#my dad always said ‘you’re very brave to have his hand on your back. he easily could have stabbed you’ you say that as if its a bad thing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gloryy-vs · 1 year

Note

i’m so glad that you’re taking requests bcause your writing is scrumptious 😮‍💨🫶 i love it! ik you’ll do this request more than justice.

if it’s alright with you, could you do some neteyam x omatikaya!reader? basically, they’ve been friends ever since they were little kids. they would always hold hands, hug each other, and would sometimes even kiss each other’s cheek and it was all innocent. but ever since neteyam successfully finished iknimaya and y/n gave him a celebratory kiss on the cheek, he starts seeing her differently. he starts to avoid her bcause he feels different about her, and he doesn’t know how to explain it. y/n thinks that the reason he ignores her is bcause he’s busy with his duties as the future olo’eyktan so she tries her best to not mind it. neteyam sees that y/n is doing ‘fine’ without his company and it drives him crazy. one day it gets too much after seeing y/n almost spend the entire day with tarsem and not even spare a glance at neteyam, so he confronts her and she hugs instinctively since it used to always calm him down, and that’s when he confesses 💗 whether you write this or not, i’m still excited to see more of your content argh, lots of love xoxo

|| AAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH. Literally wrote one drabble and y’all makin me kick my feet n shii 🤭 I GOTCHU. not proof read so please spare me!

characters: neteyam x omatikaya!reader

rating: SFW , angsty , fluff , jealous neteyam , oblivious reader

During his ceremony you couldn’t help but smile cheesily, so proud of your dearest friend for coming and training so hard for this long. Especially with how his father can be, very demanding but in a loving way. Ever since you were two were young, he was always amazing at hunting, combat and being a brave warrior. Now he’s really made it. As the ceremony wrapped up, the Na’vi circling around Neteyam chanted, welcoming their upcoming Olo’eyktan. The easier way to describe a ceremony like this was a ‘coming of age’ event. There you were, by his side with your tail swishing in joy.

He stepped down, bowing his head in respect to the people around him, making his way to you. You beat him to it, basically punching in his arms as he picked you up, his arm muscles tensing and becoming more visible.

“You did it Teyam! I’m proud of you.” You said, giving his a big kiss on the cheek as a congrats. Pulling back, you gave him a big smile, your eye creasing towards the ends from how exicted you were. At first glance you couldn’t tell who’s ceremony it was from how happy you both were.

Then there was a cold shift, Neteyam gently unwrapped his arms from around your waist and let you feet touch the ground. He looked you in the eye, before getting lost in them, and lost in the feeling washing over him. His face contorted, like he was confused. Looking at you again with those big amber eyes, he smiled curtly. “Thank you, but I expect my dad to really push me. Til I break basically.” He said, playing the end off as a joke.

Covering your mouth while you giggled, your sentence was interrupted before it even started, by Jake and Neytiri waving their son over to speak with a desperate group. Neteyam turned to you and sighed, bowing his head down in annoyance. You understood though. Or at least you thought you did as he walked away without saying anything. Your ears flattened for a brief moment before you realized it may have been due to his new upcoming responsibility.

Days turned into weeks and Neteyam hasn’t said a word to you. That was an exaggeration. Few words were exchanged but you two haven’t had a good conversation in a while. Ever since that ceremony, he’s always been around his father, or training with some of the clans strongest warriors. That’s what you thought. You sat atop a tree, lost in your confusing thoughts. Lying is easy, but lying to yourself is the hardest. You cant convince yourself that it doesn’t hurt, you definitely have strong feelings for Neteyam, and wish to support him. Being alone is taking a toll on you especially since you two grew up attached to the hip. You didn’t want to get in his way, it would be better to distract yourself.

Making your way back to the clans new home, Tarsem waved you over graciously. He was a strong hunter and warrior, a very loyal one at that. “Ay, we brought in fresh meat from a hunt today, come and eat before it is gone.” He said with a thick accent, basically pulling you over to the rationed food. You were pretty hungry, so you crouched down, finding a spot for yourself in the circle. Tarsem crouched beside you. He grabbed a thick, hearty leaf and placed sturmbeest meat atop of it along with some other delicacies. He handed it over to you with a nod.

“Eat, eat. You must eat to be strong.” He said encouragingly, gripping your shoulders innocently and grabbing a share for himself. You two began to engage in conversation, eating while doing so. What you failed to notice was a pair of eyes staring right into your soul. He was angry, but more so with himself. Neteyam knew he was avoiding you due to his feelings. How would he confess? You two grew up together, giving each other kisses yet that one kiss after the ceremony made his heart ache for you. It wasnt fair to you, and now for him to be jealous. He scowled, stuffing his face with the last of the hunted meal and tossing the leaf to the ground in front of him. Neytiri glanced down at her son, following where his eyes were trained on. She knew very well about the connection you two had, and often spoke to Jake about it. It was a connection blessed by Eywa.

Neytiri nudged her son, catching his attention before nudging him towards you nonchalantly. Neteyam sighed, rubbing his face in his hands anxiously before standing up. He cracked his knuckles, a nervous tic of his. He walked around the circle making his way behind you, seeing your shoulders shake from innocent laughter in the conversation before he gently touched your shoulder. You whipped your head around, wiping your mouth before making eye contact. “Teyam? What is it?” Tarsem turned away, not minding the interruption.

“Come with me. I…need to talk to you.” He said. You found it off that he just now wished to speak to you, was he finally pushing you away? Telling you that the friendship was over? Getting up, you followed your best friend outside and as he turned around, he wrapped his arms tightly around you. “You won’t even look at me? What was that about? We grow up together, yet you can’t-.” You stopped him, pulling your bodies close together. Neteyam stopped, his breathing slowing down again. He didn’t even realize he got so upset. Though he realized it was a bit hypocritical. “I’m sorry. It’s just, it’s not your fault. I cant even be mad. My feelings for you grew to be more than I thought they could be…”

Your tail represented how happy you really were, swaying around quickly. He wrapped his arms around you tightly and you spoke timidly, “I thought you were mad at me, or just busy with training.” He immediately let go, grabbing your shoulders but keeping you close to his face. “I could never be mad at you. Ever since that kiss at the ceremony, I just felt differently about you. You were the biggest supporter I had, more than a best friend. It all hit me at once.” He said, his eyes baring into yours.

You cupped his face. “What are you trying to say? Tell me it’s what I think it is..” You said while looking at his lips, then meeting his eyes. He repeated the action, noticing how close you two have gotten in a matter of minutes. Neteyam closed the space, pressing his soft lips against yours and refusing to break away until he needed a breath.

You slipped away first, “Tell me Teyam..” You whispered, giving him another kiss and smiling into it.

“I’m saying I love you. Oel ngati kameie..” He said, brushing the hair from your face gently. A smile spread across your face.

“I see you, Neteyam.” You uttered the words, caressing his face before you two shared another kiss.

#neteyam x reader #avatar neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam x you #avatar loak #avatar way of water #avatar #neteyam imagine

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cheegu3 · 8 months

Text

Enhypen - the glory (Part 7)

summary; after rejecting one of the most popular boys at your new school, you soon realised that you'd done the gravest mistake of your life; these weren't ordinary boys, and now they were set on making your life a living hell - heavily based on the kdrama with the same name

warnings; yandere themes, swearing, mentions of wounds, bullying, inaccurate descriptions of police work,

genre; yandere

wc; 4.7k

pairing; enha x f.m reader

note; I’ve been really busy so this isn’t my best chapter, pls keep this in mind 😭 I have the whole ending and everything planned out but it’s moving really slowly, a lot of repeating here and less plot driven?? In the future I want to try and update more often and if I can’t do that then I want to give longer chapters, but don't kill me bc it's not very exiting it will hopefully get better :c

masterlist

Your feelings of horror caused your voice to come out like a trembling whisper.

‘’ Who is watching you? ‘’

Soobin grew more erratic. His eyes almost bulged out of his head and his breathing sped up. Despite this, he tried his hardest to keep his gaze away from the one standing in the shadows. The person watching couldn’t under any circumstances, know that Soobin was about to tell you another secret he’d been keeping from you.

‘’ Ni-ki. It changes, but he’s the one they tell to follow me the most. I think it’s because of his background as a fighter, oh god- what would he do to me if…’’ Soobin rambled on to himself.

‘’ Soobin! I need you to calm down and tell me before he gets suspicious that you’re halfway out the door. ‘’

You felt like bile was rising up your throat and your hands felt clammy with anxiety. However, you knew that you had to be brave and order him around; who knows what they might do if the both of you get caught.

Soobin let out another shaky breath while raising his head to look at you. The crease on his forehead softened and he nodded promptly, realizing the urgency you were trying to convey.

‘’ There’s another secret I’ve been keeping from you. ‘’

‘’ Be quick, ‘’ you hissed.

‘’ Ever since that day when your dad saw us, they’ve been following me around and asking me to update on you and what you’re doing. ‘’

‘’ Why would you do that? ‘’

‘’ It’s fine, really, ‘’ he assured you. ‘’ I haven’t been telling them the whole truth of course, they don’t know about the revenge plans. But they followed us to the rooftop…the hospital and presumably my house too. ‘’

You sighed and the scowl returned to your face.

‘’ They didn’t just threaten to fire my dad. They also said that they would hurt you, y/n. ‘’

‘’ Don’t worry about me Soobin. You know they wouldn’t actually hurt me that bad. As long as they didn’t threaten to hurt you, it should be fine right? Don’t give them what they want. ‘’

‘’ It’s not that easy. ‘’ he tilted his head, ‘’ Why are you different? ‘’

It was easy to tell that he meant well, he just didn’t know how to word his concerns but it still felt like a personal attack.

‘’ What do you mean? ‘’ you spat back rather aggressively.

‘’ You are almost never worried anymore, you have an almost careless attitude. Have you given up? ‘’

Your angry scowl disappeared, the eyebrows sunk as well as the corners of your lips.

‘’ I feel…I don’t know- ‘’ you sighed.

‘’ Anxiety? Worry? Urgency? ‘’

‘’ All of them. ‘’

‘’ I’m here for you. You can always talk to me, and you know that. ‘’

‘’ I know. It’s just hard. I’ve never had someone like that before, I’m used to dealing with everything myself. ‘’

‘’ As long as you’re trying, it’s okay, ‘’ he smiled fondly and you returned it.

Then you both thought of Ni-ki watching you at around the same time so the smiles disappeared almost as fast as they came.

‘’ What do we do about them following you? ‘’

‘’ I will keep you updated by text. ‘’

‘’ What if they go through your phone? ‘’

He stilled.

‘’ I will try my best to never make that happen, ‘’ his words came out more as a question, showing his uncertainty. But you had no other suggestions, so you just waved him off.

‘’ See you tomorrow. ‘’

‘’ Bye. ‘’

When he closed the door and walked away, the urge to turn your head and look at Ni-ki almost won over the persistent side of you. The car was started instead and you hurried to drive home, not wanting to sit in the silence with the pair of eyes watching you.

On the way home a thought popped into your head. Many others did as well, however, one in particular stuck and you kept thinking about it for the last few minutes of the drive.

If they were watching Soobin, were they watching you too?

*******

During the morning of the next day, Soobin texted you. It was a normal text, but for some reason, you felt a bit jumpy whenever your phone pinged and lit up with the text - new message.

It could either be from them, which was undeniably worse, or Soobin, who often texted you about them so it still made your heart beat faster. Escaping them had become pretty much impossible now; they were at school, in your phone, outside of school and near your home, in Soobin’s texts and their names had even been in your parents’ mouths too. Like parasites, they infested every part of your life when you foolishly thought it would only stay at school.

The worst part was how quickly it all escalated. Knowing they had seen you with Soobin, you guessed it was because of that. Still, you wondered why they didn’t bully him into stopping hanging out with you like they had with everyone else. Why did they want to go one step further with Soobin? Did they make this whole elaborate plan to make you never upset them or talk to anyone again, was it a game that brought them satisfaction or was there something else they were trying to do?

7:36 am

You: When did Ni-ki come to the parking lot yesterday?

Another thing that popped into your mind when you got paranoid about them following you too was that Ni-ki had seen you meet with Yena. If he did, all plans to use her would go out the window. However, even if he didn’t see you two you needed to be careful next time in case they would start to follow you. You had no idea how to meet her discreetly.

Cousin: I think when I did, I saw a car following me on the way

You: What if they’re following me too?

Cousin: It’s possible if they’ve split up

You: Oh no…

You: They could all spread out between everyone in my life, I don’t want my parents to be hurt

Cousin: I’m sure they won’t. They don’t have that much time on their hands anyway. But if you’re worried, don’t meet me at school so they have no idea that you know about them following me.

Cousin: You can text Yeonjun instead of me today. I’ll delete our conversation in case they go through my phone.

You: Yeonjun? He wants nothing to do with me

Cousin: I overheard what he said when you visited and I scolded him, he got grumpy of course but agreed to help if we fucked up

He sent Yeonjun’s number in the chat and you added it to your phone, naming him ‘’ grumpy cat ‘’.

Cousin: See you at school, stranger :)

You rolled your eyes and started getting ready for school. Several times on the way down the stairs, you checked your bag to ensure you hadn’t accidentally left a post-it note in there or anything else they could grab.

The school was pretty busy when you arrived, close to when the bell would ring. Many students surrounded you on all sides which you were a bit grateful for because you couldn’t see any of your bullies.

Inside the classroom, you spotted Soobin though. A small smile played on your lips, but you quickly caught yourself and let it fade meanwhile your eyes darted to the corner where they always sat.

They were there, all hunched over their desks like usual and busy talking, which thankfully meant they hadn’t seen you. You wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible so you snuck to the back where your chair waited for you, and sat down quietly.

In your peripheral vision, Soobin was moving around a lot. You assumed he was restless and had to stop himself from talking to you in front of the guys. He was forced to stay still not long after, when the teacher entered the classroom.

The sound of her voice quickly disappeared into the background as you daydreamed about lunch. You hoped that they would just let you be today, no punishments or bothering you like the first day you and Soobin ate.

*******

When the bell rang and the much-needed lunch break after the double lessons but also dreaded time came, you almost sprinted out first out of the classroom. They didn’t have the chance to get out before you and wait outside, not that you were sure that was on their minds; they seemed a lot more disinterested in you and focused on other things, even at school.

The phone in your pocket had vibrated a long time ago and you had spent the last ten minutes of the lesson unfocused, waiting for the bell to ring so you could see who had texted you.

Soobin looked after you as you left, a sad frown on his face due to him not being able to follow you. He had to push down the curiosity that washed over him, almost taking over the logical side and making him follow you anyway.

Far down the hallway, your head whipped in all directions to see where you could hide for a moment. The classrooms that were full soon emptied out and students poured into the hall where you were, giving you some shielding from the guys if they were looking for you.

Eventually, you spotted the girls’ bathroom and went in, closing yourself inside a stall and bringing the phone out.

12:06 pm

Y: New photos attached

Your eyebrows rose in surprise. It was Yena, she already had photos? Your thumb hesitated to click them, scared that you’d see something that would be hard to pretend you didn’t know of later. But, you pressed it anyway, quite suddenly before you kept hesitating.

The display flickered in the dark bathroom as the photos loaded in. It was hard to make out what was going on in them at first. They were quite dark, grainy and blurry, probably due to Yena being far away so they wouldn’t spot her.

Then the more you stared at it, the more clarity you felt you got. One of the photos featured two figures, it looked like it was Soobin’s dad and Jay’s dad. Under it, Yena had written context - 01:18 outside CN building.

CN? You recognized the name. A quick google search told you it was a huge company that had many smaller ones they were affiliated with. They had articles containing collaborations with a police station, schools, a courthouse and sponsored politicians. You scrolled down all the way on the wikipedia page - the CEO was Jay’s dad. You weren’t sure why, but it made you feel a bit sick.

This was one of the biggest companies in the country. They controlled so many small ones that they were almost taking over the economy as a whole. The scale of which you had estimated things to be, was so far off you almost felt dizzy. With so many supporting them and backing them, it felt like a given that there was corruption involved. That would almost certainly be the case for the upcoming election when Jay’s dad was running for mayor again.

However, that wasn’t the only reason you felt sick. You had a feeling that the loopholes this ultrarich person was allowed because of his power, had a high chance of extending to his son as well, maybe even their employees and their families which could be the other guys too.

You needed to find proof of their employment, and hopefully, Yeonjun could hack into their files. But given that they were a very rich and high-profile company, hacking into their system would be pretty impossible. You had no idea what plan B could be, infiltrating them, threatening them…giving up?

So, they could get away with anything, even murder and it would likely be swept under the rug. The victims like you, never got their justice and would be advised not to take them to court. That felt terrifying.

How the hell were you supposed to take down a whole empire like that? You were just a high school student.

Your head hit the wall behind you as you sighed deeply. The feelings of hopelessness and defeat had come back yet again. This was so much bigger than you could’ve ever imagined. With the company backing them all up and cleaning up all of their messes, they pretty much had an impenetrable defense.

Despite these recurring feelings, you still quickly scanned over the other three photos. The next one had one of the guys in it, Sunghoon with his dad. As you had suspected, he was the one Sunoo talked about who often went to illegal fights and gambled with his dad.

Normally you’d be ecstatic you had found something like this, but knowing what you knew now from the first picture it felt useless. That three-year prison sentence would be reduced to probation if you were lucky. They’d get their best, dirtiest lawyers from the company, and the only thing to come out of it would be you having to watch your back from then on.

Your eyes went to the next one. It featured Jungwon and Jay leaving a police station. Under it, it read - 10 pm, at the police station. Why were they there? Especially so late, and only the two of them.

You licked your lips as you thought for a moment. It was still until you came up with the idea to ask Yeonjun. You asked him if he could hack into police files, needing to see why they were there.

Since he didn’t answer you moved on to the other ones. One was really close, showing all seven of them spread out on the couch at Jungwon’s house, just talking and hanging out. Then the last one was Ni-ki, Jake, and Heeseung leaving the hospital with a girl. You squinted and pressed the photo very close to your face; it was the girl from your school, the one you had seen them visit.

For a moment, you had forgotten about her. Now you gasped and realized you needed to find out more about her. Why was she there, why did she have those same wounds as you did and was she working with them? Also, why had your bullies never mentioned her…

A loud knock made you jump. ‘’ Are you done soon? ‘’

You relaxed, it was just some random girl who wanted to use the bathroom. You feared the worst for a second - that they had ignored all rules, because well, they didn’t really apply to them, and had just barged into the girls’ bathroom.

‘’ I’ll be out in a second, ‘’ you shouted back.

The person waiting outside had to step back when you pushed the door open. You raised your head to look at them before getting out of the way and froze mid-step.

‘’ Jiyun, right? ‘’

She also halted her movements, her fingers that were curled around the stall’s door dug into the green metal rather aggressively.

‘’ Yeah, y/n? ‘’ she answered, only turning her head a bit to the side so she could glance back at you.

It was the girl from the hospital. Her name had been at the tip of your tongue then, but it seemed you hadn’t remembered it fully until now when the stars had aligned and made you two meet just after you thought of her. Maybe she could give you some answers now.

‘’ Do you have time to talk? ‘’

‘’ Does it look like I do? ‘’

Without thinking you reached out your hand and grabbed her wrist when she tried to get into the cubicle again.

‘’ What the fuck are you doing? ‘’

She tried flinging her arms to shake you off, but you were more determined and the grip only became tighter. You yanked her back and despite her resisting and trying her best to hold onto the door, you managed to throw her back on the third try. A cry broke from her lips.

Then you released your grip, because you didn’t want her to be scared or think you had bad intentions. Instead of standing close to her or holding her, you opted for standing between the cubicle and her, angling towards the door as well in case she’d try to make a run for it.

‘’ Those guys have hurt me too, ‘’ you rolled up your sleeves, showing the wounds that had now started to heal.

She didn’t flinch like everyone else did. She just stared at it, an unreadable expression flashed across her face and her eyes flickered.

‘’ I know. ‘’

‘’ You…know? ‘’ you breathed out, ‘’ Have they told you about me? ‘’

She hesitated so you hurried to speak up before she had made her mind up, ‘’ Are they bullying you? ‘’

Her mouth opened and then closed again. You two stood in silence; you waiting for her to speak, and her hesitating and rethinking what she was going to say over and over.

‘’ It’s complicated, ‘’ she ended up mumbling after your patience was starting to run out.

‘’ How is it complicated? ‘’ you stepped closer, trying to look compassionate but also feeling like you needed to be quick.

‘’ You can talk to me, we’re in the same boat! We might be able to help each other. ‘’

Her demeanor switched. The corners of her mouth twitched upwards, in a sarcastic smile, perfectly fitting the darkness that had filled her glossy and anxious eyes she’d had just a second ago.

‘’ Help? ‘’ she let out a small high-pitched laugh, ‘’ There’s no one that can help us, y/n. Haven’t you realized that yet? ‘’

Now it was your turn to be quiet. You felt baffled at this unexpected side of her. It couldn’t have been long since they started hurting her, you couldn’t imagine the amount of pain they must’ve put her through for her to break so soon. Your heart ached for her, but there was something in her dead eyes that told you there was no saving her - she had given up a long time ago.

‘’ Why did they visit you in the hospital? ‘’

‘’ You know them as well as I do. Because they’re sadistic assholes, they came there to cherish the pain that their very own hands had caused. ‘’

You weren’t sure what to say. Letting the silence follow people’s words often lead to them revealing more information, you knew this from past experiences. It seemed you were spot on, as she continued not long after, her bitter voice echoing in the bathroom.

‘’ They were smiling from ear to ear the whole time, ‘’ she scoffed and bit her lip as she looked away, letting some vulnerability shine through now.

‘’ I’m sorry. ‘’

She didn’t answer.

‘’ Are they forcing you to do things? ‘’

‘’ Of course they are. I guess in a way, I wasn’t as lucky as you were. They’re not in love with me, I’m just their punching bag. ‘’

‘’ Lucky? ‘’ you mumbled, furrowing your eyebrows.

‘’ Yes, lucky. The others get twice as much pain as you do, many of the guys can’t stand to see their princess hurt, and you know that. They would do anything for you- even kill. If I were you I’d use that. ‘’

‘’ I don’t know how to. ‘’

‘’ Well, I hope you do soon enough. Because they’re using me to get to you, so there’s not much I can do to help you since they keep me on a leash. I have about- ‘’ she glanced down at the clock around her wrist, ‘’ Ten more minutes before they barge in here, asking why I’m taking so long. ‘’

‘’ What are they making you do? ‘’ you felt confused, and slight panic started building up inside.

‘’ You’ll see soon enough. Just know I’m sorry in advance. I didn’t have a choice. ‘’

You whipped around to ask for more questions but she was already halfway to the door. She didn’t give you a chance to speak, hurrying to exit without looking back. When the door was about to close you heard a male voice that you recognized, Heeseung had been waiting outside just like she said they would.

A few more minutes passed. You felt that it was smartest to wait in case they knew you were inside and waited for you as well. When about five minutes had passed and you heard no voices from the hallway outside, you carefully pressed down the door handle and creaked it open, as if the slightest noise would make them come running.

But they didn’t need to, they were already there. As soon as you stepped out fully and closed the door, you were grabbed from behind. A large hand came up to cover your mouth, muffling the screams of protest, but your eyes were left untouched. Wriggling in the arms of the person holding you back, you managed to turn your head.

The sight of Ni-ki, Sunghoon, Sunoo, and Jake greeted you, all smiling widely; the fact that Jungwon and Heeseung the two scariest ones, weren’t there felt a bit unnerving but you had no idea why.

Then quite suddenly you were freed; the hands around you let go, causing you to stumble forward awkwardly as you lost balance. You didn’t waste a second to turn to them, paranoid of having your back turned the wrong way again.

‘’ Why did you do that? ‘’ your voice had an edge to it that didn’t go unnoticed by the guys.

‘’ In case you’d scream, ‘’ Jay answered, he must’ve been the one holding you back.

‘’ What do you want? ‘’

‘’ You’ve got an attitude lately, haven’t you? ‘’

It was Jake’s voice, and it took everything in you not to either lunge at him or spit something aggressively back, you couldn’t let him know he had affected you.

‘’ I’m just not as scared of you as I used to be. ‘’

‘’ Really? Jungwon told us something different, ‘’ he said tauntingly, sinister glee shining through his tone.

His words stung. Humiliated, you cursed under your breath as heat rose to your cheeks. You heard some chuckles behind him but you weren’t sure from who, your eyes were darting anxiously in between things that were anywhere but him because you weren’t sure if you’d be able to keep your brave face if they did land there.

‘’ I don’t want to talk to you right now, ‘’ you finally caved in.

He cooed. ‘’ Is it because of last night? ‘’

You couldn’t take it anymore. With your heart in your throat, you started running. To the end of the hallway and down the stairs. You weren’t even sure where you were going, all you knew was that you had to get away.

The footsteps that echoed in your head were hard to know if they were your own or if they were following you behind. You kept running in case they were, and you didn’t stop until all the air inside your lungs had been used up. Having reached the cafeteria, you stopped to catch your breath, panting loudly.

A hand touched you, making you jump and yelp loudly. As a defense mechanism, you brought your arms up to protect yourself.

‘’ Y/n? It’s me. ‘’

You relaxed at the familiar voice, coming out soft and laced with concern. You looked up at Soobin and then pulled him towards you, leaning forward so you could look around the corner. They hadn’t followed you, the corridor was empty thankfully.

You released a shaky breath and rested against the wall behind. Soobin looked worried.

‘’ Are you okay? ‘’

‘’ I think so, I ran from them. Do you think that would make them mad? ‘’

‘’ Possibly. But they didn’t run after you, so I’d guess no. ‘’

‘’ Who knows what they’re thinking. They’re so unpredictable. ‘’

‘’ They’re probably doing it on purpose to throw us off. Did you ask them if they were following you too by the way? Or did they mention anything about watching me yesterday, giving any hints that they know what we’re up to? ‘’

You blinked, overwhelmed with all of his rapid questions being thrown at you. Soobin threw his hands up, smiling guiltily.

‘’ Sorry, that was a lot. ‘’

‘’ We didn’t talk for long, so no not that I can remember. ‘’

‘’ Anything else you can remember then? Did they seem off? ‘’

‘’ They have been lately. I guess the weird thing was that Jungwon and Heeseung were the only ones that weren’t there, it made me feel uneasy. ‘’

‘’ Because they have some more authority over the others?

You hummed.

‘’ What could they have been doing? ‘’

‘’ I have no idea. But are we sure we want to find out? ‘’

*******

Your hands were empty when you entered the police station after school, which maybe said a lot about how it wasn’t a fool-proof plan. After the whole run-in with Jake, you made up your mind then and there that you’d try to take him down with this. It may be a feeble attempt at getting justice. But, even if there was a high chance of it not succeeding, a part of you wanted to try something big like that so you could really see with your own two eyes if Jay’s dad had all their backs as you thought. You weren’t sure how their reactions would be, but surely they would stop you if they really were following you.

It was busy inside. The volume was very high, people were shouting over each other and the policemen had trouble controlling some. You grimaced and pushed past everyone with your elbows tucked near your sides.

At the end of the room was a bigger desk that had a woman sitting behind it. The sign on the desk told you it was the reception, although many seemed to neglect that fact as they were busy antagonizing the officers, claiming their matters were more important.

‘’ Hello, how can I help you? ‘’

‘’ I’m here to file a report, um- ‘’ you ticked your tongue, not sure how you could explain it.

It wasn’t a break-in, because your dad willingly let him come inside, and it wasn’t really a robbery either. You struggled to find the right words, pleading with your eyes to make the receptionist understand you anyway.

She smiled warmly, seemingly understanding you just had trouble expressing yourself.

‘’ Is it related to sexual harassment? ‘’

‘’ Kind of, ‘’ you titled your head.

‘’ I will assign you this gentleman, please sit down, tell him your concern, and follow his instructions. ‘’

She gestured to the man sitting closest to the desk, on her left side. He looked very young, probably only a few years older than you, so a possible rookie cop. But, you didn’t discriminate. All you hoped was that he’d take you seriously and help you in any way he could.

He smiled at you when you sat down and you returned it. ‘’ Hi, I’m here regarding a police report I want to file. ‘’

‘’ What is the subject of the report? ‘’

The politeness was replaced with pure professionalism from his side which you really appreciated, he just got right into it.

‘’ Eh, well…I think sexual harassment or sexual crime. ‘’

The typing stopped, and his head raised. You were given a questioning look.

‘’ My dad falsely let in someone that I wasn’t close to into our house, I guess you could say. And he- he stole my underwear, ‘’ you swallowed harshly, feeling small under his stern gaze.

‘’ Did you check everywhere? ‘’

‘’ I did, I’m sure it’s gone. ‘’

‘’ Do you have proof of that? ‘’

You stilled. No, you didn’t really. That realization made you lose hope and motivation, your sweaty hands rubbed against the material of your jeans.

‘’ I don’t know, ‘’ you confessed lowly.

He sighed, a polite smile appeared on his lips again and he looked tired, not irritated. He probably did believe you, but there was a procedure he had to follow for it to even go through the system.

‘’ Any CCTV of him inside, entering or exiting your house. Any witness statements, etcetera?‘’

‘’ I-, do I need to have that now or can the police help me gather those? ‘’

‘’ We can help you gather CCTV if there are any in your building, they should show him entering or exiting. However, I have to warn you. If there are no witnesses and the footage doesn’t show him holding the item, it might go nowhere. ‘’

‘’ So search his house for it, ‘’ you shrugged.

He chuckled. ‘’ Getting a warrant is very hard. ‘’

You took some time to make up your mind, sighing before finalizing it.

‘’ It’s worth a try. ‘’

‘’ Okay, let’s go. ‘’

taglist; @peaceout97blog-blog, @ayadikreino, @beoms-sugar, @keikeu, @sunghoonnsupremacy, @lilyalone, @sweet-kisses-and-bloody-screams, @eunchaesmileyface, @nunugget, @seunns, @nshmrarki, @huening-ly, @espyluvsyou, @yncel, @loserwithnofriends, @enha-stan, @binchanluvrr, @ariek-divad, @obsessed1with1straykids, @yizhoutv, @taeyongzodiactwinkiri, @w3bqrl

#enha the glory #yandere kpop #kpop yandere #yandere enha #yandere enhypen #enha x reader

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yourlastbraincell-kiwi · 3 months

Text

A/N: Had this one in the drafts for a while, so I finished it. I hope it’s good. And I hope there’s no typos and grammar mistakes. But I’ll talk soon! ❤️

(This one has no title as of right yet)

Pairing: Carl x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Imagine it being (Y/N) who got captured by the Saviors instead of Daryl, and Carl tries not to let them take her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“But first we have something- oh, my apologies. Someone that you might want to see,” Negan motions for his men to take someone from out of the truck and pushed them forward, so they were standing unbearably close to him. Before pointing Lucille in my direction. “Avert your eyes if you need to, kid. She is in baaad shape.” He chuckles, removing the bag off her head.

(Y/N)..

I turn my head and eye my Dad, begging him with my eyes to do something, anything. He doesn’t meet my eyes, and continues to stare at Negan. Turning my head to look at (Y/N), as she looked around, like she’s seeing everything for the first time again. She looks up and meets my eyes, then immediately looks down at the ground.

She probably didn’t want me to see her cry, that’s something she’d always hide from me. She had told me everything bout, how she wounded up in Alexandria, and what happened to her group.

She even answered the three questions, my Dad usually asked people that wanted to join us.

But her crying? Was never something she’d admit to anyone, that included me. She always wanted to show everyone how badass and brave she was. I told her countless times that crying is showing bravery too.

Her crying now, truly did mean that these assholes did, in fact, bring her to the edge. And I, so desperately, wanted to kill Negan and the Saviors for that.

“(Y/N), here..oh, may I call you that?” He asked me, and I just chose not to say anything, and it didn’t stop Negan, from smiling wide. “(Y/N), here has a chance to come back and join the fine folks of Alexandria, if she so wishes.”

What game are you playing at, Negan?

“All she has to do is say, ‘yes.’” He finished turning to look at her, but she still didn’t meet anyone’s eyes.

Say, ‘yes.’ Please say ‘yes.’

I hoped and prayed she would say that one word, that would let go of there hold on her, but nothing happened. Nothing was said by her. And Negan smiled wide, as if it could get any wider, draping hand around her shoulders.

“Looks like (Y/N) here, is enjoying my company and doesn’t want to leave, ain’t that a shame?” He ended, with a deep chuckle.

“Isn’t that right, (Y/N)?” Negan asked, and (Y/N) did nothing but stare at the gravel on the ground. And Negan began to get mad with (Y/N) not saying anything, so he crouched down next to her and got close to her ear.

“Isn’t. That. Right?” She didn’t say anything else, and Negan stood up straight, with a quickness, and told some of the Saviors to take her away after putting the bag back on her head.

“Don’t you touch her! You fucker!” I exclaimed, if no one else was going to help her, I will. And nothing was going to stop me.

“Would you look at that? Those are big words, for a little boy like yourself.” Negan said, as he stopped his men from moving (Y/N).

“Why don’t you stand up? And tell it to me again. Y’know face-to-face? Man-to-man.” Negan said. “You are a man, aren’t ya?”

“Carl don’t-”

“No, no, Rick. I got this, it’s alright. We’re just going to have a little discussion, that’s all.”

I stand up not listening to my dad, and stood right in front of Negan, staring at him, dead in his eyes. “Now, what was it you said? You called me a fucker?”

I said nothing to him, and just breathed heavily. I was not playing any of his games.

“Oh, so we’re playing the silent game now? Alright, I’ll bite.” I watched him as he turned around then turned back and hit me in the stomach with the other end of Lucille. I fell to the ground on my hands and knees, coughing profusely.

“I take it you’re not very good at this game.” He says and hits my back with the end of the bat, and I fell flat on my stomach. I look up to see (Y/N) wincing and turning away not wanting to see what Negan was doing.

He gets down on my level and whispers to me. “This. This right here, is a warning. You ever think you can step up to me again? I can promise you Lucille and I will not go easy on you. You will learn your place, that being the bottom of my shoe like the little piece of fucking shit that you are.”

I lift my head up and huff as I met his eyes, “Now get back in line, like obedient little boy that you are.” He said, as he spat on my face.

“Now, that’s taken care of, where were we- oh, right! Put her ass back in the truck.” Negan started. “Now Rick, I need those supplies, in 2 days time. Now, taa motherfucking taa.” Negan began to laugh as they took (Y/N) away, and I couldn’t do anything about it.

“Carl, what the hell was that about? You could’ve gotten yourself killed.” My dad exclaimed.

“And you guys didn’t do shit, to help her! Are you kidding me?”

“You got a death wish or some’m?” Daryl asked me grabbing my shoulder.

“I did it to save her life, and you guys sat there, none of you were probably thinking about saving her.”

“Now, you know that’s not true.” Michonne said.

“Oh yeah? Then maybe try and save her then maybe we’ll see where your priorities lie.” I replied and walked off away from everyone.

I was done, I was going to find a way to say her, with or without their help.

#carl grimes #carl x reader #carl grimes x reader #wattpad #x reader #fluff #twd negan

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skyfall8600 · 2 years

Text

Little Munson

Summary: you over hear Eddie telling your 7 year old boy to stand up to his bullies

Pair: Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

Writing: first person (I and my used)

Very short one shot!

________________________________

It was the late 1990s, spring was unbearably hot this year so some god awful reason. Perhaps to make my pregnancy harder.

I was cleaning up the dinner table, putting away left over of Adam’s favourite meal so he could enjoy it again tomorrow. I heard whispering once I turned the tap off, secretly expecting that my two boys were up to no good.

Leaning against Adam’s bedroom door, I saw Eddie and our son sitting on the floor with the faces staring out the window.

“You can tell me about it you know, I’ve had my fair share of it.” Eddie spoke softly, his hand moving the dark brown frizzy hair from his son’s face.

Adam shrugged, neither of them noticing that I was witnessing this moment between them.

“I don’t know Dad, I don’t get what I’m doing wrong.”

“Nothing, there’s nothing wrong with you and your haven’t done anything wrong,” Eddie said. “Most kids just don’t like different.”

“And I’m different?”

“Oh you bet you are!” He smiled and tickled the boys stomach, “you love awesome stuff that even I never heard of, and you have epic drawings skills, and you can beat anyone at any video game on the planet!”

He gradually lifted the child onto his lap, swaying slowly.

“Why do they tease me?”

Eddie sighed, “they just don’t understand you Budd. I got teased because I like playing D&D, and because of the type of music I like and the way I dressed.”

The boy turned to look at his father slightly, and my heart instantly shattered when I saw both of them were crying silent tears.

Adam may not have been exactly like Eddie, but Eddie never made that an issue. He would always become excited when he learnt something new about our little boy, after all- he took a lot after me.

“Did they- did they call you names?” He asked.

Eddie nodded, “heaps of names. And you know what? I never let it get to me, I used to names too to prove to them that it didn’t mean anything. I became Eddie “the freak” Munson for all of high school.”

Adam giggled. “They call me ‘pages’. Because I’m always reading. I don’t think it’s very clever.”

Eddie snorted, “Your mom used to get called ‘goggles’ because one time she left science class with the safety glasses still on and didn’t notice for the entire day!”

“No way!” Your son erupted in laughter, “that’s so like mom.”

I couldn’t find it to be mad at them for bonding over my trauma. I couldn’t shake off that nickname for years, hell it was even in my year book.

But hearing all of this was helping Adam. My brave, curious and friendly little boy. He never complained, never sought out trouble. He was content keeping to himself, until he would notice someone else who looked lonely. That’s how he made all of his friends; he got that from Eddie, rescuing poor little lost sheep.

The only times we have ever been told about him be violent or rude was always when he was defending someone else. Yet for himself, he would bottle it up and pretend it didn’t exist.

“Mhm, that’s why we want you to know that there’s always going to be someone bigger, and meaner, but as long as you keep being you, then your ok. It’s the second you let them get to you, that they win.”

“How did you do it?” He asked.

Eddie smiled proudly, standing to his feet and lifting the seven year old in the air. “I would be loud and make the same remarks back to them. I reminded them that no one dares try to belittle Eddie ‘the freak’ or Eddie ‘the banished’!”

“Mommy says I talk back like you do, the sparcastic thing.”

“Sarcastic Budd, sarcastic.” Eddie corrected him. “And yeah you do. Do you think you’re all better now to go to sleep, or do you want me to stay some more.”

“I’m better. I’m not upset anymore, not if you and mom were like me too.” He said. Eddie kissed his cheek.

“Night Bud, see you in the morning okay?”

“Night Dad.”

I rushed out of the doorway before either of them could see me, or so I thought.

“Bedtime go well?” I asked, fixing up the table.

Eddie smiled and draped his arms around me, “You know, when your this large because you’re carrying our daughter, it’s a little hard to miss the noises you make when you walk darling.”

I swatted his arm. “I tried to be quiet!”

He only laughed at me, kissing me softly

If only it was possible for me to fall even more in love with this man, I knew I would every time he smiled.

————————————————————

Tag list: @fentyreligion @littlelunarfox @coconutchumby @eempxth @superflannel @fluffycookies22

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x reader fluff #joseph quinn

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bobbyseyesmile · 2 years

Text

Pride and Passion | 11

Chapter 11

Warnings: Some smutty action as in fingering and Negans potty mouth (as usual) | 18+ | Minors DNI |❤️‍🔥

⤝ Previous chapter | Next chapter ⤞ ➻ Pride and Passion masterlist

Negan had told you to wait in the car when you reach Alexandria, to wait for his final permission. You really tried to listen but as soon as you saw the big gates and some of your friends standing on the watchtowers you couldn’t hold back any longer and jumped out of the rolling car. Much to Negan’s dismay.

“Y/N!” he yelled and tried to grab your arm but you were faster and already running towards the gate.

“Dad!” you yelled as loud as you could. “Carl! Judy!”

The people standing guard for Alexandria couldn’t believe their eyes: Was it really you?!

“Y/N?” Glenn whispered more to himself and then yelled: “Someone find me Rick! Quick!”

Rick was unloading some boxes with Daryl when he heard all the yelling. “Is it time already?” he sighed and flashed his best friend an annoyed look. Rick was tired- Negan’s visits were more frequent, even though, interestingly, he didn’t demand more stuff. He just came by a few times, looked around, made some stupid jokes then left.

“Dad!” Rick turned around watching his son running towards him, completely out of breath. “What happened?!” he asked, his voice filled with immediate concern. “Dad…” Carl tried to catch his breath. “It’s Y/N! She’s here with him.”

The box Rick was holding dropped on the floor and he ran towards the gate, not another thought in his mind but his daughter he hasn’t seen in months. He never knew if you were even alive. “Dad!” He heard your voice and ran faster, his long curls sticking to his sweaty forehead. When he finally saw your face, the confused look in your eyes when you turned your head looking for him, his heart almost exploded. It was really you.

“Y/N!” Your head snapped towards the voice and you saw your dad running in your direction. You did the same and a few moments later you finally reached the arms of your father- caging you in the biggest bearhug and silently sobbing in your hair. “You’re alive…”

Hot tears rolled over your cheeks, soaking his white shirt but none of you cared. For a moment all was good. Nothing else mattered.

Negan had some distance and observed the scene in front of him. He wasn’t a cold-hearted bastard, fucking course he was touched. Who wouldn’t be? A father and daughter reunited. Still, he doubted that his decision to bring you along was the best- normally everything was calculated and well thought of, he never let emotions control him. But with you? A lot of shit was different with you.

“I’ll give you some space.” You turned around, watching as Negan walked back to the vehicle, talking to his men.

“Come on. We have a lot to talk about.” Rick said and softly pushed you towards the house.

Michonne watched from the windows and opened the door, Judith in her arms. “Oh my god! I missed you so much!” you squealed and took the little girl from her. “My sweet, sweet angel.” The baby showed a small smile, presenting her tiny teeth, playfully grabbing your hair. You inhaled her scent, closing your eyes, wishing this moment would never end. This little girl meant the world to you.

A hand landed on your shoulder and you turned around, finding your younger brother. “Carl!” Tears fell again when you two hugged each other, not letting go of the other one. “God, I missed all of you so much, you can’t imagine.”

Michonne caressed your cheek, gifting you her warm and motherly smile. You always loved the fierce and brave woman- she was perfect for your father. “We are very happy to have you back.”

Your stomach turned. “I am not.” You whispered and gave Judith a small kiss on her head. “It’s just for today…”

“But-“ Carl started and you quickly shook your head. “Just today.”

“I’m sure we can talk to him, I mean-“ “No, Dad. Today was an exception, Negan made that very clear before we came here.”

“What did he do to you?” your brother asked.

“Let’s sit.” Your head pointed to the sofa. After leading the way, you sat down with the baby in your arm. Judith let out a small yawn, obviously battling to not fall asleep but after a few minutes you heard her steady breathing, her face nestled into your chest. You answered them every question they had, told them everything about the Sanctuary, Rosita, the workers and so on. There really wasn’t much to tell to begin with- After all Negan wanted you to sit still and look pretty for him.

“So, he never-?” Michonne lifted an eyebrow, secretly scared to ask the one question that kept your father awake at night.

You quickly shook your head. “He never touched me, I promise.” You saw the relieved look on their faces and gave your father a small nudge with your knee. Rick managed a small smile. “I hate to say it but it’s not bad, actually. ‘Course not great, but yeah… I mean, he’s pretty much always mad at me and I’m sure that I’m the reason for his constant migraine but other than that… I just sit around.” You shrugged your shoulders.

“But didn’t he say you’re his wife or something like that?” Rick shot his son a warning glance but Carl just shrugged his shoulders “What?”

“It’s alright.” You said and smiled at him. “Yeah, he kind of claimed me in front of his people but, uh, he has other wives as well. Don’t look at me like that, it’s not like I approve of it, okay? His other wives are responsible for his… needs.” The words kept stuck in your throat and a weird feeling spread in your stomach.

“You make it sound so unromantic and inappropriate, doll.”

You turned around when Negan stood in the middle of the living room, Lucille casually slung over his shoulder. He watched with amuse when you rolled your eyes at him.

“Negan-“ your father stood up but Negan stopped him almost immediately.

“Not right now, Rick. I’m sure anything you have to say can fucking wait. Right now, I want you to prepare a bedroom in one of those empty houses, ya listening?”

“We, uh, don’t have any empty houses right now…” Carl answered and made Negan scoff in return.

“Oh, is that so, young man? Well, how about we make some space then, are ya volunteering?”

“Negan.” You said sternly and he immediately raised is hands in defense. “Just joking around, love. But I’m sure there’s some private room in this shithole of town, right Ricky?”

“For what?” Rick asked and adjusted his posture. He always did that when he felt threatened. The only thing was: Negan simply didn’t care. “For sleeping, you dumbnut.” Negan explained slowly and then pointed Lucille towards you. “We’re staying tonight. We left way too late and it’s getting dark, ‘am not taking any risks out there.”

You opened your mouth, way too many questions lingered in your head. But you just asked the only thing you could think of: “Really?” Negan nodded. “Simon can handle things at home. Dwight and my men will stay as well, ya hear me, Rick? So don’t think about doing anything stupid like you always do. Give us our room and we’re out of your hair for today.”

“We just got her back-“ Carl stood up and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Yeah, and she’s still here tomorrow.” Negan became slowly but surely annoyed so you got up, carefully adjusting the little girl in your arms.

“It’s alright Carl.” The small smile you gave your brother made him relax a little and you turned your attention back to Negan. “I’m going to bathe, feed and bring her to bed. It won’t be long.” Rick and the others watched as you went upstairs- Negan didn’t argue and just sighed. “Fine.” He hated the spell you had over him, why was he not insisting or simply ordering you to come with him? Because he didn’t want to. And that was a problem.

Rick watched the weird interaction between his beloved daughter and this prick- the look Negan gave you was… almost caring. But it made Rick way more nervous- sure, he didn’t want you to suffer or something like that, but he also didn’t want this murderer to sleep next to you thinking about God knows what. Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do tonight so he pushed his curls back and pointed to the front door. “I’ll show you the house for your stay tonight.”

“Fucking great.”

------------------------------------------------

The room was way too bright- moonlight shone through the windows and made it impossible to sleep for you. You weren’t even sure if the half-naked man beside you was asleep or awake, his breathing was consistent.

“Can’t sleep?”

You quickly closed your eyes, even though he couldn’t see it, pretending to sleep when you felt him shifting around, his warm chest close to your back but the heat from his body was radiating towards you like a bonfire.

“Too bright.” You whispered, almost not audible. “Shit, yeah…” Negan’s breath tickled your neck and he watched your body react with goosebumps in return. As much as he hated the power you had over him, making him question everything he did, he loved the obvious attraction you had towards him.

A small shiver ran down your spine and made you almost choke on your own breath. Why was he so close? And why, for the love of everything holy, didn’t you run?

Negan licked his lips when he felt your body moving closer to his own, your back now firmly pressed against his chest. “You just have to ask, babygirl.” His low voice rumbled through the silent room; your senses heightened.

After what felt like eternity you finally said: “Please…”

“Please what?” he needed you to say the words, needed to actually hear them coming from your lips. “Please touch me…” you begged, breathless.

Negan’s finger ran over your arm, leaving a trail of fresh goosebumps, lighting your insides on fire. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt like this- or, in fact, you could remember but pushed the memories with Shane away. You would regret it tomorrow but not now.

Negan’s fingertips slowly worked its way up to your chest, the thin fabric doing absolutely nothing for you. You held your breath when he cupped your breast, his calloused thumb circling your hard nipple, teasing the sensitive flesh. “Breathe, baby, breathe.” A small whimper escaped your lips.

Negan let out a low grunt, a sound of approval when your body moved against his hands. His lips carefully sucked the soft skin by your neck. His second arm slipped under your body, pulling you against him while his hand continued to explore the rest of your heated skin.

“Negan…” you moaned when he found your earlobe, sucking and biting it. “Hm? What do you need, little one?” “More.” Was all you managed to say. His hand wandered down your stomach, reaching the hem of your panties, fidgeting with the fabric. “Touch me… please.”

Your voice sounded desperate, absolutely pathetic, like you’ve been starving for his attention, longing for his touch. And Negan loved every second of it. His index ran through your folds- his original plan was to tease you till you were a begging mess but as soon as he felt the sticky wetness pooling in your panties, he discarded all thoughts. “Fuck…” he groaned “You’re completely soaked.” You bit your lips, there wasn’t anything else you could do. Even if you wanted to speak, there were no words coming out of your throat as Negan inserted two of his long digits and started pumping at a slow but intense pace. “You like that, huh?” Your head nodded on its own, caught in a delicious dizziness. “Fuck, babe, I thought about this a million time…” “Me too.” You admitted breathless, your fingers clinging to the sheets. Eyes closed you started to move your hips along to his rhythm, his fingers reaching deeper, touching places you didn’t even knew existed. “Shit!” you cursed under your breath “I’m close…” “I can tell by the way your pussy’s gripping my fingers, fuck, darling.” His words made you almost come- there was something about his constant cussing that made your insides turn into goo. “Come on, baby, come for me… Show me how good my fingers fuck this sweet cunt.”

“Negan!” you yelled and his large hand pressed against your mouth. “Come on, ride it out, doll.” He whispered in your ear and, oh, you so did; relishing every second of your orgasm against his hand till you were a trembling mess, begging for his hand to stop. You felt his lips against your neck, covering your sweaty skin with soft kisses. “Good girl.”

Negan drew lazy circles over your clit, making you whine in return. “No more… I can’t.” you panted, making him smile. “We’ll test that theory another time.”

He then adjusted the blanket, covering both of you but when you tried to move away, he grabbed your hips, pulling you back against him. “Stay.” Was all he said before you two feel into a deep and much needed slumber.

Taglist: @toxic-ink @jaywinchestersalvatore @crosshajr @neganswoman @tone-stark @missmiauz @ellablossom @abbiesxox @fullwattpadmusictree @lover1307 @shadylilac @xsecretsirenx @sstrxnges @sanctuaryforthelost @carly-i @r3dskywaterfall

(if you want to be added, pls let me know)

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novemberevenings · 1 year

Text

what comes before night? | prologue

In the entire history of Prythian, there has only ever been three solar courts: Dawn, Day, and Night. But, on a seemingly random day, an island located closest to the Night Court suddenly makes itself known. No one knows who they are or where they come from but it cannot be any good. Especially when its power rivals that of all the courts, both seasonal and solar.

word count: 1215

a/n: hii everyone, this is the first ever fic im posting so please be kind :) This entire story came from the scenarios that I use before i sleep to entertain myself and i thought that it would actually make a pretty interesting series so here i am, sharing my bedtime scenarios to the world of tumblr. i hope you enjoy!

(This will be an Azriel and reader fic, but bear with me, it will take some time. I’m a huge fan of slow burn and angst so, obviously, that will be common themes in this series :))

----------------------------------------

You never realized how small your parents’ room was until now. Growing up, it had felt so spacious, like you could get lost between the crevices and gaps in the room. Now, you felt like the roof was closing in on you. Like the walls could suffocate you if you stayed there long enough.

The room is still large, even now. But it’s lost its air of grandness that it had when you were younger. Now, it all feels a little more familiar. The tall ceilings and billowy curtains, the windows that are so big that so much light gets in. Walls that are smooth and are a sandy-colored beige. The setting sun sets the room in orange and pink hues, a beautiful blend of colors. A sharp contrast to the current atmosphere in the room.

It's quiet here. The only sounds are that of the people bustling about miles away, the ruffling of tissue, and your mother’s quiet sobs. You don’t realize you’re crying too until tear drops fall on your clasped hands with your father.

“Y/N, look at me please,” your father rasps. It was not said as a command, though it very well could have been. You don’t think you could take it. Your younger brother is a comforting presence beside you, but centuries together could never prepare you for this moment.

Despite that lingering ache, you look up anyway. A futile act, since you can barely see with your foggy eyes but you try. For your dad, the kind, compassionate, and loving father. The brave, cunning, and powerful High Lord of the Dusk Court.

“My beautiful, brilliant daughter. How mighty you have become. You will be the best of us yet,” At this point, you don’t even bother trying to hold back the tears. However, you refuse to let out a sound, afraid you’d disrupt the moment. A comforting hand lands on your back, not knowing who it belongs to but accepting it all the same. “You must do what I never could. You must share our court with the rest of the world. Please, Y/N. It is the last thing I will ever ask of you.”

“You know you never have to ask me to do anything right? You could just command me to do it, pull rank or something,” You say with a slight shrug and a watery smile. The attempt to lighten the mood works. Just a little.

“I know. But to you, I will always be your dad. Never the High Lord. Plus, pulling rank means I would have to accept defeat. And you know I never lose.” A slight smile pulls at your father’s lips.

You chuckle at the sass, on the brink of death and still, he decides to have an attitude. Matching teary smiles can be seen in the room. But your dad drops his smile once more, his face going serious again. “Promise me.”

“I promise, dad. I will share the beauty and knowledge of our court with the world. We will never hide again while the rest go to ruin. I promise. Everyone will know of your greatness, I swear this to you” You whisper, afraid that if your voice gets any louder he would hear the cracks in it.

“I’m not doing this for praise or commendations, witchling. I want to help people. Even when I’m gone.” A cough follows the statement, your brother helps adjust the pillows again to make him feel more comfortable.

“You will. You’ve helped so many people, dad. So many.”

At this point, you could all feel it. The slow, agonizing, feeling of someone’s life drifting away. Your chest hurts, you think rubbing it would help ease the ache but it does not. You all huddle closer to the bed. Your brother goes in first, lowering his forehead to your father’s. Words are exchanged between them, likely the last ever words that will be shared between the two. When your brother lets go, his eyes are more bloodshot than before.

Your mother goes next, forehead dropping to your father’s, sobs making her shoulders shake. This, you think to yourself, has to be the worst sight you have ever seen. Fields littered with fallen soldiers, severed limbs, or bloody swords are nothing compared to this. Two mates, saying their final goodbyes. Never to be with each other again.

You look away when your father kisses your mother, the sight too painful, you can’t even imagine how your mom feels right now. You realize that you’ll never have the chance to tease them every time they kiss, your father saying he doesn’t care and kissing your mom again. Secretly, your heart bursts with joy every time he does so, knowing that you were fortunate enough to have parents who love each other and grow up surrounded by so much love.

He tells her that he loves her very much and you think you must have heard your heart literally break when you hear him say that he’ll wait for her, forever if he has to. You wonder if your mother will ever be the same again.

You get the last turn and you almost run out of the room to prevent yourself from breaking entirely. Almost. Instead, you shuffle forward a little. You wipe your eyes with the backs of your hands, then you drop your forehead to your father’s at last.

“I love you, my Y/N. You will be great. Far greater than I. You will make history. You will be the one who finally changes the ways of our court. I know it.” You shut your eyes tight in an attempt to stop your tears from flowing down your cheeks. “Keep your promise to me. Never forget what I taught you. And in your moments of doubt, know that I’m never too far away, yes?”

“Yes, dad. I promise. I won’t forget. I love you. Please stay. I love you.”

Lifting your head up, you weave your fingers through your dad’s, one last time. Your mother clasps onto his forearms and your brother squeezes his other hand. With one last smile at all of you, your father closes his eyes.

You all can sense the shift in the room. The loss of one of the greatest and most powerful High Lords ever in history. The loss of your greatest mentor, your biggest supporter, your father.

Then after the painful silence, you feel it. The power, all-consuming, raw, and magnificent, rushes into you all at once. You let out a gasp, standing up from the bed, walking to the window, then bending over again while holding on to the wall for dear life. Your eyes are shut tight and your breathing is labored. After taking a few moments to come to, to regulate your breathing and adjust to this new power, you straighten again.

Both your mother and brother hold eye contact with you for a second. Awe and reverence lines their faces. Then they both get off the bed, take a few steps towards you, then stop within a foot left from you.

Then they kneel.

You’re frozen to your spot, the sight so foreign that you don’t know what to do with yourself.

“Long live the High Lady of the Dusk Court.”

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #azriel x reader #azriel/reader #azriel imagine #azriel x you #acotar x reader #acotar/reader #rhysand #feyre #cassian #nesta

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capseycartwright · 2 years

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song request: brown eyed girl <3

Eddie recognised the song immediately - which wasn’t always a given, considering how utterly tuneless Buck’s singing tended to be. It probably said something about how soppy and in love Eddie was that he found it adorable. It was brown eyed girl, Eddie knew, the Van Morrisson song familiar as Buck squawked his way through the chorus.

“Hearts a thumping, and you, my brown eyed girl,” Buck hummed, rounding off his warbling chorus with a delightfully out of time shake of his hips. Buck was a talented man in many ways, but one thing he definitely couldn’t do was dance. Again, the fact he found it adorable said more about Eddie than it did about Buck.

He was a sap.

“Do I need to be jealous of whoever this brown eyed girl is?” Eddie teased, leaning against the kitchen door frame, drinking in the scene in front of him.

If you’d asked him a few months ago, he’d have sworn there was no chance he’d ever have this, have Buck and this scene of perfect domesticity all to himself. Eddie had just dropped Christopher off at school, lunch packed by Buck in hand, and now he’d come home to this: Buck standing at the stove, wearing a borrowed pair of sweat-shorts, an apron over it - because as sexy as it was in movies, cooking half naked was a recipe for disaster when there was a pan of hot, spluttering, oil on the go - proudly declaring him the best dad in the world, and he was singing.

Buck looked toward Eddie, that soft, gooey smile he seemed to permanently wear these days making Eddie’s heart melt right down to his socks. “Sorry, baby,” he grinned. “You’re the only brown-eyed one for me.”

“Oh, so I’m your brown eyed girl?” Eddie teased.

“Mm,” Buck stirred whatever he had going in the pan. “It felt a bit excessively heteronormative to change it to brown-eyed boy.”

Eddie laughed, the kind of genuine, freeing belly-laugh he’d gone so many years without feeling the joy of. “The community thanks you for your service,” he joked, crossing the kitchen to stand next to Buck - because he could do that whenever he wanted now, no longer needing to fear that someone might find out his big secret. There were no secrets between Buck and Eddie, or Eddie and anyone else, anymore.

Eddie was living a life he could have only dreamed of having - and all it had taken was a few near death experiences, a heap of therapy, and a coming out journey he never thought he’d be brave enough to pursue, to have it.

“They should,” Buck turned the heat in the pan down. Shakshuka, Eddie observed - his favourite. Buck was treating him, given it was a random Tuesday and shakshuka was usually reserved for Sunday brunch. “I’m out here, fighting the good fight.”

“And looking very sexy while you do it,” Eddie reassured, wrapping his arms around Buck’s middle, the bare skin of Buck’s back exposed and available for Eddie’s greedy hands to skim. He let Buck kiss him once, twice, three times before he spoke again, brushing his nose against his boyfriend’s. “I’m your brown eyed girl, huh?”

Buck rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”

“No, I don’t mind,” Eddie reassured. He’d looked at himself enough times in the mirror over his thirty-something years of life to know that he very much did have brown eyes - and if Buck’s feelings about Eddie’s eyes were anything like Eddie’s musings on the bright blue of Buck’s, then, well, he definitely understood.

Buck smiled, brushing a thumb underneath Eddie’s eyes, pressing a kiss to the corner, right where Eddie got laughter lines whenever he smiled. Buck was responsible for at least half - Christopher got the credit for the rest. “You do have beautiful eyes,” he murmured, kissing Eddie again. “Slipping and sliding, all along the waterfall with you,” he crooned, and Eddie couldn’t help but laugh, letting Buck lead him around the kitchen in some semblance of a waltz.

“I love you,” Eddie laughed, socks sliding along the tile floor as Buck spun him away, only to pull him back close, humming into Eddie’s ear as they swayed to imaginary music. This, Eddie knew, was the kind of love he’d been waiting for his whole life. “I love you too,” Buck grinned. “Ooh, my brown-eyed girl.”

#911 fox #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #911fic #gayeddie #prompt fill #thank u for allowing me to write self indulgent fluff austin

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bisexualhomelander · 2 months

Note

23, 30, and 49!

23. What’s a trope, AU, or concept you’ve never written, but would like to?

I have answered this one in a different ask, but to put it short:

Hannibal Game of Thrones crossover.

Mirrorlander workplace comedy.

I still want to finish them badly. But the Outlook is Grim, so I wouldn't hold my breath for either of the two.

30. Have you ever written something that was out of your comfort zone? If so, what was it, and how did it affect your approach to writing fic thereafter?

I have once written a rather large historical fic set in the era of the crusades for a different fandom. I am not a historian, but did a fuckton of research to get it into the zone where I don't have to be ashamed at my absolute non-knowledge.

It changed my approach to writing fic by making me very proud of the accomplishment and also letting me vow to never do that again, ha. Things I learned: I am a more talented author than I thought I am. I am also a lazy fucker.

49. What are you currently working on? Share a few lines if you’re up for it!

I have shared PWP with a different asker, so you will NOT get PWP. You will get a snippet of the depowered HL dad fic because I am apparently a jack of many trades lmao who can handle TWO WIPS instead of one. Clap, everyone. Clap.

His father was in the kitchen with his glasses in his hands, turning them this way and that, squinting at them. "How was your walk?" he asked absentmindedly, and like always, it sounded like a rehearsed phrase. At first, Ryan had been bothered by the way Homelander talked because there was always some level of artifice to it. He'd come to realise it didn't mean any of the words he said were particularly false, though.

"Good. It's really cold out today, so I came home early." He hung his rain jacket up and went to the fire.

For a few months now, his experience with temperature had been gradually undergoing change.

He remembered shivering in his snow suit as a toddler when his mom had thrown snow in his face. He had felt the cold like a bite to his skin. The heat had driven sweat on his brow. Now, he could lean as close to the fire as he liked, and while he could always feel the warmth, there was never a moment where he recoiled from it. As of now, he'd never been brave enough to put his hand directly into the flames and let them lick at his skin.

"Will it hurt if I touch the flames?" he asked into the silence because why wouldn't he just ask the man who must know the answer.

There was a beat of silence, and then he heard the footsteps of his father walk over to him. He had the glasses back on as he crouched down next to him, and the fire was mirrored in them. "It'll hurt. I can't promise it won't burn you a bit. Wait a while until you're sure it won't."

Ryan blinked at him. It was the first time his father had advised him to be cautious. Ever. Two years ago, he'd thrown him off a roof. "So my skin is invulnerable but... not?"

#ask game #thank you for the ask!!

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tommys1girl · 1 year

Text

Thanks Dad

Pairing: Tom Cruise x daughter

Summary: you’re being interviewed by Vogue for the first time, and you’re extremely nervous. They’re coming to your new house that you just moved into for their famous Vogue tour/interview. Mind you, this is your very first interview since putting yourself, Tom Cruise’s daughter, out in the spotlight. Lucky for you, your dad is the most supportive person in your journey so he’s with you every step of the way.

Requested: yes :)

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, panic attack. I think that’s it but please let me know if I missed anything!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous though, what if I say something I shouldn’t? Is there anything I shouldn’t say? Oh gosh, I shouldn’t have said yes to this, my anxiety is through the roof right now,” you mumble out as you pace around the house. Your dad is quick to follow you.

“Y/N, I promise it’s going to be great. You can say whatever you want, but maybe steer away from any embarrassing stories… those come back to haunt you,” you and your dad both giggle.

“I guess I’m just worried since I’ve done so well at staying out of the public eye, I mean, it’s been 18 years, dad!”

“I know, and I’m proud of you for making a decision like this on your own. You know that I’ve always supported you, and always will.” Tom says as you turn around and bump into him.

“Okay, hun let’s have a seat before you ram into me again,” he says holding your hand and leading you to the couch where you sit next to each other.

“Dad, I really don’t think I can do this, I don’t feel too good..” you say hunching over, burying your head between your knees.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Tom says as he puts his hand on your back and leans in towards you a little. He pushes your hair out of the way so he can see your face as you look up at him.

“My chest feels tight…. I-I’m lightheaded.. and it’s getting harder.. t-to.. to breathe…” you barely get out.

“Okay hun, sit up for me, you’re probably having a panic attack.” He’s quick to kneel in front of you and lifts your shoulders up so that your forehead is in contact with his. “It’s okay, you’re okay, I’m right here, sweetheart. You’re going to be okay.”

Your dad has on hand in your shoulder helping keep you steady, the other hand is pushing your hair behind your ear as he rubs the side of you head… something he’s always done since you were little. You lean your head into his hand and open your eyes to look at him.

“There’s my girl, let’s breathe together, okay? Breathe in.. hold it… let it out slowly…. Good job Y/N, I’m so proud of you.” He leans in and gives you a kiss on the forehead, something you’ll never be too old for.

You repeat the breathing exercises together for a couple minutes until you’ve calmed down.

“Are you feeling a little better? Do you want some water? Or a snack?” Your dad asks, making sure that you’re actually okay and not faking it so he’ll stop worrying.

“Yeah I’m okay, dad. Thank you for helping me… and I could actually go for a brownie if there are any left.. please…”

“Of course, can you sit back on your own or do you need some help?” He asks bringing his hand down to your other shoulder.

“I got it, thank you though,” you say as you push your hands off your knees to bring yourself back into the couch.

“Great job, I really am proud of you, Y/N. You’re doing such a brave thing today, and it’s okay to be anxious and nervous about it. Obviously, I don’t want you to be but I was in your shoes too, interviews can be scary.. but I’ll be here the whole time.” He says standing up, just to move beside you in the couch.

“Not to be rude or ruin the moment, but I think I asked for a brownie..” you chuckle.

“You know what, I think you did too,” your dad laughed as he stood up and walked into the kitchen. He comes back with two brownies on a plate and sits back down next to you. You each have a brownie and as soon as you’re taking your last bite, the doorbell rings.

Tom stands up, “I bet that’s them, do you want me to let them in?”

“I got it, let me put the plate away first though,” you lightly laugh, standing up and walking to the kitchen to put the plate in the dishwasher.

Your dad follows you, “if you need a break just let me know, they can always stop rolling. I can also make them leave if they say something out of line,” he laughs trying to lighten the mood.

“Thanks dad,” you turn to give him a hug. “I think I’m ready!”

“That’s my girl! Now please know this, I’ve never been more proud of anybody in my entire life than I am of you. Now go crush this interview!” He kisses you on the top of your head then pulls away to give you a high five before you turn for the door.

“Thanks Dad, you really are the best,” you look back as you walk towards your front door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ugh you guys!!!!!! I love sweet and caring dad Tom! I’m OBSESSED with him. ANYWAYS! I hope you enjoyed this short little story, I loved writing it! Please send in some more requests! :) love you all!

#tom cruise #tom cruise fanfic #tom cruise x reader

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sirowsky-stories · 12 days

Text

The Flowers Always Know

Chapter 13 - Dance with the Devil

Description: You and Marcus ended up in your first argument as a couple, when you received unexpected news concerning the mad scientist who was now in prison.

**Beware! Author chooses NOT to display warnings on the individual chapters of this story. Read at your own risk!**

Rating: Mature 18+ONLY Word Count: 5950 (3629 words added) Masterlist (this story)

“Hey kid, scram,” you said to Missy as you came into the living room. “Your dad and I need to have a grown-up talk.”

“Got it. I’ll finish watching this in my room with my headphones on,” she replied without hesitation, having already learned that you never butted into her time with her father unless it was important.

They’d been watching a movie together while you’d been having a pampering evening, with a long hot shower, facemask, footbath and some nailcare for once. You very rarely took the time to do these things, which made each time feel special and luxurious. You’d deliberately made sure you’d be extra relaxed for this conversation. Missy got up and bounced off towards her room, and while Marcus did his best to play it off, you could tell he was suddenly very nervous.

“Kid? What happened to sweetie?”

“There’s a time for sweetie, and a time for kid,” you shrugged after taking a seat on the coffee table, so you could sit directly opposite him, which only increased his concerns.

“Am I in trouble?”

“Nope. Just something we can’t really put off any longer.”

“Okay,” he nodded, still looking worried, but put somewhat at ease knowing it probably wasn’t gonna end in a fight.

“So, you know how I was a little off at lunch a couple of days ago?” you started, and you could see how he thought back, making sure he knew what you were talking about before answering.

“Yeah, you were kinda quiet, keeping to yourself. I figured you were tired.”

“No, actually… I was late,” you said, emphasizing the last word in a way you hoped he could interpret, because you couldn’t quite bring yourself to use any of the other words or phrases for it.

“Oh. That kind of late,” he correctly deduced, and since he didn’t seem terrified of the subject, you soldiered on before you lost your nerve.

“Yep. It was a false alarm, I got my period today, but considering the fact we haven’t been careful, at all, we can’t really ignore it. I mean, I know it’s a big conversation to have after just two weeks, but if we put it off, it might end up being too late.”

You were putting on a brave face, but in truth, this subject scared you for a number of reasons, which was why you’d felt the need to make sure you were as relaxed as you could be before bringing it up. Marcus, on the other hand, was a picture of calm, leaned back against the sofa with his hands resting idly in his lap and a look of curious interest on his face.

“No, you’re right, we should talk about it. Just don’t expect any flailing or panic from my side of the fence,” he started, peering at you with an insightfulness you hadn’t expected. “If you’re asking me how I’d feel about having more children, the answer is I’d love that. And if you’re asking me if I’d freak out if we got pregnant already after just two weeks, my answer would be… no. I don’t think I would. I’m sure about you, about us, and this family has plenty of room to grow.”

“Oh,” was was all you managed to push out of your mouth after hearing him declare his thoughts and feelings on the matter so clearly.

You were terribly ambivalent yourself, which made it somewhat jarring to hear his perspective. He was so prepared and comfortable with the whole idea, which made perfect sense given he’d already been through it before, but you had still expected him to have some reservation about the prospect. To want to discuss it, at the very least. And now that it was clear he didn’t much worry, either way, you didn’t know how to continue the conversation.

“What about you?” he asked after giving you a moment to process, and he still looked only curious and interested to hear your perspective, which just made your own reservations that much worse.

You’d been dreading having to share this side of yourself ever since you’d first begun to build your friendship with Marcus. Not because you didn’t want him to know about it, but because you just had so much baggage where family was concerned. And even though you were the one who’d brought this up, you honestly weren’t sure if you were ready to tell him everything about your past yet. But you owed it to him to at least try to explain where you stood on children.

“Hey, preciosa, what is it?” he suddenly asked, leaning forwards in his seat so he could put a reassuring hand on your knee, and it took you a second to understand why.

You hadn’t even noticed your eyes beginning to tear up.

“Um… It’s just… my own family… uh, it wasn’t a good place. I don’t have a lot of fond memories of growing up and I’m just… completely fucking terrified that I’m somehow gonna taint this beautiful little family with that darkness,” you admitted, and he listened silently, but he looked worried.

He scooted further out onto the edge of his seat so he could reach your hands, holding them tightly to try and steady you when your tears started to fall.

“I’ve never realistically thought about having a family. Not because I didn’t want one, but because I just never thought I’d be any good at it. Being a mom… never seemed like something I could do, or maybe even something I shouldn’t do. And then I met you, and… Missy. And the way I feel around her, the way I want to be there for her and take care of her… Fuck, I don’t know how to navigate this.”

He kept searching your eyes, and you had no idea what he was looking for, but his voice was as soft as he could make it when he finally spoke.

“I already know you’d make a great mom, sweetheart. You don’t ever need to worry about that, and if you ever do, just look at how comfortable Missy is around you. How she’s drawn to you, how she reads you and learns you so quickly because she wants to cultivate that relationship with you. I know my daughter very well, so I know she’d never do these things if she didn’t feel safe and loved by you, and that’s all a mother needs to do. The rest is the eternal learning curve of parenthood.”

You wanted to thank him for his faith in you, but there were other things deeply embedded under your skin, which screamed horrible and cruel things in your ears, refusing to let you believe him. A voice you’d heard so many times, telling you how worthless, useless and unwanted you were. And it didn’t matter that you’d freed yourself of those circumstances all those years ago, you’d never been able to scrub that voice out.

“Why wasn’t it a good place?” you heard your partner’s voice whisper gently. “What happened with your family, hermosa?”

Maybe if he knew about it, he could help drown out the past, or even smother it. Maybe his positive healing effect on your body could somehow work on your mind as well, if you just let him in. But the mere memory of that voice, the nights spent locked in your room, the lies and the seemingly endless fear of not knowing if each new day would end up being your last…

“I… I can’t,” you cried, shaking your head, trying to keep those old feelings from overpowering you.

“Please, just tell me. Whatever it is, you won’t lose me. I’m right here. Please,” he begged, wanting only to understand, having no clue how his urging became the catalyst for no fucking reason beyond him asking for something you weren’t ready to revisit.

The very worst of the memories surged up behind your eyes without warning, and you closed them as hard as you could, trying to keep it all out, trying to make the truth disappear. But it never would. So, you just cried. Painfully, forcefully.

Marcus caught you when you doubled over, feeling as though your insides were turning to acid, trying to destroy everything that you were. You didn’t see or feel him cry with you. You didn’t see how much your pain made him suffer, or how helpless he felt as you curled into a foetal position when he moved you over to his lap, and wrapped his arms around you and just rocked you. You didn’t hear him continuously repeat how sorry he was, as though he had been the reason for all this pain.

At some point, you must’ve fallen asleep with the emotional drain, and when you woke again, it was to the sound of heated voices close by. But these weren’t the voices of your past, and although they were arguing, you knew you had no reason to fear them.

“…can’t ask her to do that! No, absolutely not, it’s not happening,” Marcus vehemently determined.

“This is not your decision to make, hijo,” his mother replied, much more calmly, but still with the assertiveness and superiority of an older woman.

“And it shouldn’t be hers either,” her son argued, getting so riled up you could hear him grind his teeth through the words. “She should never even have to think about it.”

“It might be good for her. Confronting it. Has she ever even talked to you about it?”

There was a brief pause, and you heard Marcus begrudgingly sigh before answering.

“No. Not directly.”

“And you know burying such things is never healthy.”

“And meeting the man who tortured you, is?!” he fully screamed in response, and his words sent daggers of ice through you.

“What?” you breathed just as you stepped into the kitchen from the living room, staring from Anita to her son and then back again, hoping one of them would tell you that you’d misheard them.

“Sweetheart, you should get to bed, you’re exhausted,” Marcus tried to distract you, coming to your side where he put an arm around you and attempted to lead you towards the bedroom and away from his mother.

“No. Tell me,” you demanded, already dreading what you might be about to hear, but you also knew that being coddled wouldn’t help anything.

Still, your partner either refused to be the one to give you the news, or he simply couldn’t bring himself to say it, so you squirmed out of his arm and turned to Anita, since you’d overheard enough to know she wanted you to do whatever this was. And in a rare display of care, she stepped closer to you and adapted a softer frame, as if trying to ease the pain she knew she was about to inflict.

“Dr. Prince wants to meet you. He’s left instructions with his legal counsel saying that if he can talk to you for one hour, he will give the authorities the names of the three unidentified bodies they found at his facility, as well as disclose a secondary location, where he is claiming to have hidden an additional ten,” she explained, still calm but her voice was clear and to the point.

You suddenly felt completely numb. Nothing inside you seemed to know what to feel about this, so instead, it was as though you’d shut down. It seemed like a lifetime ago that a police sergeant had come to the medical ward to inform you that you’d been given the authority to watch the interrogation videos, in case it would spark some repressed memory in you which could help with the investigation, but you never seen a single frame of it. You’d never once even asked to see a picture of the man.

At some stage of your recovery, you’d made the choice to leave it all behind and focus on moving forward. You’d agreed to trauma counselling and spent two hours a week talking to a specialist, but since you couldn’t remember the events in Egypt, the focus of the talks had mostly been on your emotional state at the time, and how to manage the frustrations of rehabilitation and finding the patience to let things develop however slowly they needed to.

But without Marcus, you couldn’t have done any of it, because aside from the fact that he’d been instrumental in your physical recovery, he had also been a beacon of hope throughout the process. A light for you to aim your strength and resolve at, and which you had since continued running towards, because as long as you did, nothing chasing you would ever catch up. Which only meant you still feared something was chasing you.

For all the progress you’d made, the signs had been there all along, revealing how frail your hope was, how easily your strength would fail under pressure. Your panic attack after fainting and your reaction just now, after merely attempting to talk about your past, being the most recent and obvious ones, but there had been smaller things as well. In truth, you were never more than one wrong word, or a stray thought away from crumbling. All because of this man you couldn’t even remember.

“Okay. I’ll do it,” you said, feeling strangely disconnected from yourself.

But even so, you were certain that this was the right call, because at some point, you’d have to stop running or your new life would forever be held back. Like trying to drive with the handbrake on. Your partner, however, had clearly not expected this answer from you. He lost every shade of colour in his face, staring at you in utter disbelief, unable to find any words.

“I’ll let them know,” Anita nodded and turned to leave. “It will probably be set up for next week.”

As she left the house, you turned and walked to the bedroom, still not feeling anything, not even your own feet as they moved over the wooden floors. Taking a seat on your side of the bed with your back to the door you tried not to think about what you’d just agreed to, but of course, those were the only thoughts you could find right then.

You told yourself you wouldn’t have to speak to him. That you could just sit there and let him talk. He was crazy, so surely anything he said about you wouldn’t matter, so long as he kept up his end of the deal. But of course it would. Every fucking word would matter. How could they not?

“You don’t need to do this,” Marcus said as he rounded the bed and came to kneel in front of you. “They’ll get that information out of him some other way. It doesn’t have to be you.”

But his words only solidified your understanding of your circumstances.

“Yeah, it does. Because it was always me,” you said, not really trying to answer him, just speaking your thoughts out loud. “All this time I’ve soldiered on, pushed past the trauma because why should I worry about something I can’t even remember? But it happened. He experimented on me. Out of all the people in this world he picked me, and I can try to deny it until the day I die, but the truth is… I don’t know how to live with it, except to just put one foot in front of the other and hope that the ground holds.”

“I hear you, sweetheart. Really, I do. But I’ve met this guy,” he reminded you. “I was there when we caught him, and I know that nothing he tells you is going to make any of this feel better. If anything, all you’d be doing would be giving him another opportunity to hurt you, because I can promise you, that’s all he wants. To gloat and rub everyone’s nose in how brilliant he thinks he is.”

You believed him, but there was still something inside you that needed to see this through, even though you were scared and even though you didn’t know why it was suddenly so important.

“Have you ever lost time, Marcus?” you asked, starting to feel the numbness give way to something deep and disturbing within the essence of your being. “Do you know how it feels to have a big gaping emptiness in your head, during which time anything could’ve been done to you?”

He closed his eyes and bowed his head in recognition of your argument, but he still persisted.

“He won’t give you the answers you seek. He doesn’t think like you or me, he’s barely even human,” he whispered now, desperate for you to hear him. “Please… don’t give him what he wants. Don’t go.”

-=¤=-

The authorities were so eager to learn anything Prince might be willing to share that they set up the meeting just two days later, and you’d never worked more efficiently than you did in those forty-eight hours. Never before had you been so grateful to be swamped with work, for the first time actually managing to catch up with all the crap your predecessor had left behind, in your efforts to distract yourself.

Marcus had continued his efforts to dissuade you, getting antsier the closer it got when you still hadn’t agreed to call it off. And when you were just two hours away from the agreed upon time, he couldn’t take it anymore and tried to get his mother to put a stop to it. But all he accomplished was angering you, because he had no right to try and make this decision for you, however much he might consider it a mistake.

After Anita had also shut him down over the phone, he all but lost it, throwing the device at the kitchen wall, so hard that it got embedded within the drywall.

“You’re not coming with me,” you declared then, standing in the hallway opening since you’d been on your way to get changed when he’d decided to call his mother.

“What?” he asked, and he looked truly stunned to hear you say such a thing.

“You obviously can’t handle even the thought of going there, so I can’t imagine you’d be much help to me,” you calmly elaborated, but his anger only increased.

“I can’t hand-?” he started, cutting himself off with what sounded like sheer disbelief, before finding a new track. “Well, someone has to protect you from that asshole, since you’re obviously dead set on letting him have his way with you!” he spat, and even though you knew deep down that this was just fear talking and he hadn’t meant for it to sound so cold and cruel, you felt like he’d just stabbed you in the guts.

“If you can’t bring yourself to support me,” you started, doing your best to stay calm while fighting hard against the lump stocking itself in your throat, “to help me try and find a way to leave this shit behind, even if that means confronting the man I fear more than anything in this world, then I don’t know if this relationship has any hope of surviving.”

His reaction to that was painful. But for some reason, this particular decision of yours was one he just couldn’t reconcile with, and the anger remained the dominant emotion surging through him, despite the hurt.

“Be there for me… or don’t be there at all,” you demanded, and then left him to sit with his rage while you went to get ready, hoping he’d make a good decision in the end.

You’d never seen him so angry before. There really was something primal about him when he was that furious, and suddenly Amaire’s comments about him turning into Cujo began to make perfect sense. But when you returned to the kitchen as the time came to get going, he was nowhere to be found, and you left the house feeling a crushingly ominous sorrow, that perhaps you’d never get to walk back in to meet the loving embrace of this family.

-=¤=-

There were forms to fill out and long corridors to cross before you got to the room. It was a specialized visitation room, parted in two with a very thick and reinforced piece of plexiglass as a divider, with just one chair on each side. There were no holes in the glass, so the sound was carried over electronically, by small microphones built into the chairs, which connected to wall-mounted speakers on either side of the divider.

“From here, we can mute both sides of the room individually,” a prison guard informed you while you waited in the adjoining control room from which all of this would be supervised. “If we want to speak to you without him overhearing, we can shut his speaker down.”

“And what if I have a question for you or something? How do I signal that I need you to mute him?” you asked, although the real reason you wanted to know was so that you could spare yourself from having to hear something which might really hurt you.

Marcus’s warnings hadn’t passed you by. The guard seemed to see through your excuse, though. But he was kind enough to just help put your mind at ease.

“If you have a question, or if you just need to not hear him for a minute, all you gotta do is put your hand up and we’ll mute him, but we’ll still be able to hear you.”

“Okay. But… I’ll be locked in there with him, right?”

“That’s procedure, yeah. The door doesn’t even have a handle on that side. But again, if you get scared or claustrophobic or you just need to leave, come to the door. We can see you the whole time and we’ll get you out right away.”

“Thanks,” you said, truly grateful for his obvious understanding of your discomfort, but also not at all put at ease by anything you were hearing.

You knew in your head that there was no possibility whatsoever, for him to physically harm you during your visit, and still, every instinct was telling you not to go in there with him. Because it wasn’t bodily harm you were primarily concerned about.

Standing in the control room while they brought him in and strapped him into his chair gave you a chance to observe him without him being able to see you, since the window between the control room and the visitation room was a one-way mirror. He looked so… ordinary. You weren’t sure what you’d been expecting, but a guy who looked like he could’ve been anything from a gardener to a Wall Street banker, just didn’t fit your perception of him.

He was quiet while you walked inside, slowly letting the door fall shut and feeling a shiver course through you as you heard the electronic lock seal. It sounded so final. You kept your gaze on the chair while you took the few steps needed to reach it, but you could feel his eyes on you, studying your movements like a hawk preparing to strike. And when you finally sat down and met his intrigued expression, you really did feel like a mouse about to be snatched and eaten.

Then he started speaking, and your blood turned to ice.

“I knew it was possible,” he said, and a bright smile filled his face. But it was off. Not a smile of happiness, but perhaps some perverted sense of triumph. “I always knew, despite the data, despite the numerous failures, that it would be possible. If I could just find the right specimen. The perfect one. And I did. Wow, you turned out absolutely exquisite, my dear.”

You’d heard this light, bird-chirping sort of voice before. You might not have the images, but your body knew the sound. Your nerves and muscles remembered the pain which had accompanied this voice, reacted to it with such ferocity that you could feel the echo of the torture within the fibres and tissues he’d broken. You didn’t want to answer him. You wanted to get up and run away and never see or hear this man ever again. But something kept you there. Looking for the answer to a question you didn’t know.

“You’re delusional,” you finally croaked through a throat gone dry with fear. “Even now, you can’t admit you failed.”

“Oh, but I didn’t,” he confidently countered, still smiling as his gaze turned more and more predatory the longer he looked at you.

“I don’t have any powers,” you persisted, certain you were right about this, which made you feel stronger.

“Yes, you do. I can see it,” he persisted, and even though there was no proof to his claim, the sheer conviction in his eyes was enough to make your certainty waver. “You might not have discovered it yet, but you have it.”

“You’re wrong. You’re grasping…” you said, trying to keep your resolve intact, but even you could hear how it broke a little more with each passing second.

Not because you believed he was right, but because you were terrified that he could be.

“You were different from the start, you know,” he mused, clearly enjoying this to the fullest. “The way you responded to the enhanced cells, I knew you’d be promising. The first round was immeasurably intriguing, seeing how you dealt with the pain. Oh, you were so strong. You never stopped fighting me, even when you could no longer move. And then, as you regained your strength, you kept trying to escape.”

The way his mouth caressed the words made you feel sick. You felt like he was touching you, like his skin was pressing against yours even though he was twelve feet away. Except this man had actually touched you. And you had no idea to which extent his abuse of your body had reached.

“The second round was more delicate. Trying to figure out how much I dared to give you, to keep pushing your system without breaking it, but you were amazing. No matter how much I gave you, you kept bouncing back as soon as you got the chance. So, I knew you’d survive the final round, the one that would actually send your body over the threshold,” he proudly explained, and you swallowed hard to keep from vomiting.

“If you expect me to be flattered by your confidence in my abilities, think again,” you growled, because it was easier than speaking normally when you were battling against your own stomach. “Did you really think I was gonna be impressed by you? You tortured me for two fucking days!”

You knew that losing your cool wouldn’t do you any favours here, but every moment in the presence of this man seemed to increase the beratement on your senses tenfold.

“Oh no, my dear. I’m afraid you’ve been misled. You see, I had you at my mercy for three whole weeks,” he quietly announced, and the purity of the exultation in his eyes when he said it, told you that this was why he’d wanted you to come here.

The ice in your veins seemed to double, and your chest felt as though it was trying to collapse in on itself. Rationally, you wanted to believe what your mind was telling you, which was that it wasn’t true. But the ecstasy with which he delivered that line was unmistakable. He’d wanted to see you find that out, because it was the ultimate victory for him. Because the fact that no one knew about it meant he’d gotten away with it. And no one would ever be able to take that from him.

“I changed your digital footprint, and rearranged your mind a little, with the help of a certain skilled friend,” he playfully admitted, loving every moment of this. “You went through ten rounds of my treatment, each one slightly more potent than the last. And the final one… oh, it was mesmerising. It overwhelmed your system, letting the enhanced cells take control for a while, and in mere seconds you were healed. You were perfect.”

Unable to take his self-glorification any longer, you got up, stumbling as you tried to round the armrest of the chair, only just managing to keep from falling while you all but threw yourself towards the door.

“You are perfect, my darling. You’re a testament, living proof, my salvation and redemption!” he screamed behind you, still absolutely elated, and you couldn’t get away from him fast enough.

The guard opened the door for you the moment you reached it, and as soon as you were back in the control room, you collapsed to your knees and vomited into a trashcan. Your hands were shaking as you tried to steady yourself enough to just stay on your knees and not fall into a foetal position. But then one of the guards, you couldn’t tell who, offered you a helping hand, having to almost lift you up to get you into a chair.

He tried to say something, or maybe ask you a question, but all you heard was Prince’s voice echoing in your mind. The world around you was a blur to all your senses while your brain worked with all its might to try and recreate those memories, desperate to find answers even though you already knew you wouldn’t. But then one of the words spoken by someone in the room reached through the haze.

Moreno. A person somewhere beside you said the name, which confused you. Because why would anyone say that in those circumstances unless he was there? Which he shouldn’t be, you’d made it very clear he wasn’t welcome unless he was gonna be supportive. But when you lifted your gaze to check, sure enough he was right there in front of you, staring towards the now muted visiting room with the most pained expression you’d ever seen on his face, and his eyes were so dark you didn’t even recognize them.

He stood as far from you as the room allowed, and you could tell he was afraid to get too close because of the unfiltered rage which was emanating from him. This was exactly what you’d been afraid of. What you’d suspected would happen if he came here with anything but a desire to help you, which you’d known all along he wouldn’t be capable of focusing on. Not when he’d already made up his mind that you’d been stupid to agree to this at all.

“Marcus…” you tried, but he didn’t respond.

He was right there. The one person in this world you wanted and needed right then, more than anything, but he was completely unavailable.

“Please… I need you,” you begged, feeling your voice falter with overpowering sadness, because you already knew he wouldn’t come to you.

His eyes met yours, only for a moment, and then he swept around to the door, walking out without a word, and you felt as though you broke in half right there. A nameless emptiness filled you, stripping you of all hope that you might one day be happy again, and you wished for lightning to strike and everything to stop. Because without him, there was no light to aim for. As the wide planes of his back disappeared out the door, all your strength and will to fight left with him.

You sat in the control room, trying to remember why you were even there, since nothing seemed to matter anymore, until the same guard from before asked you if he should help you find your way out of the building. How much time passed between then and when you walked out of the prison, you didn’t know. You felt like you were on autopilot. Like nothing inside you was working right, and you had no idea how to even begin fixing it. You just knew everything hurt.

But as you stepped out to the parking lot, you were met by flashing red and blue lights against the evening darkness, and it took you a minute to figure out why. The lampposts had been destroyed so there was no regular light out there, but once your eyes adjusted, you saw the cars, the guard rails, the pipes and metal wires which had been wrung out from underneath the pavement. Every piece of metal in sight was crumpled or distorted.

Marcus had to have run out because he’d felt this coming, and been afraid of hurting you or accidentally setting prisoners loose if he broke parts of the building. And while you wanted to believe that his love for you would’ve prevented all this if he’d just dared to lean on it, you honestly couldn’t say if it would’ve worked. You knew he would never wilfully harm you, but as long as he didn’t trust himself, you also knew he would never let you near him.

As an employee of the Heroics organization, you were able to do some damage control on his behalf, speaking to the police and the prison warden to try and minimize the impact this would have once it reached the press and the public. It gave you something practical to focus on, and a chance to practice your PR skills, but it took several hours.

By the time you parked your car on the driveway of your house, the clock on the dashboard read nearly 9pm, and while you were tired and emotionally drained, you didn’t wanna go inside. You turned the engine off and unbuckled yourself, but then just sat there in the driver’s seat, staring at this home you’d spent so much time and effort making for yourself, now looking so cold and empty after the weeks spent at Casa Moreno.

You wanted to be just about anywhere but there that night. All alone and hurting. But aside from checking into a hotel, you had nowhere else to go. Taking a breath in the hopes it would somehow restore enough energy to get you onto your feet and through the door, you dragged yourself out of the car but then leaned against the side of it, turning your gaze up at the stars.

You lived in a suburb, not far from the city, so the ambient lights drowned out most of the twinkling lights up there, but looking at them always reminded you of how insignificant even the most terrible things were in the grand scheme of the cosmos. That night, they also brought your mind to the sun and how incredible it was that this planet had found itself on just the right distance from it for life to flourish here. Which then reminded you of a place where you might be welcome, after all.

It took you an hour to get there, both due to distance and because it was a difficult place to find, even though you had the correct address. You knocked on the door and waited, honestly having had no idea if you were about to get a door slammed in your face. But you didn’t have a plan B, so if that happened, you might as well sleep out there on her lawn.

She must’ve been busy, or possibly already sleep, but eventually the door opened and a sceptical looking Anita, wearing a robe and carrying her cane, scanned you from head to toe, before settling on your eyes where her gaze turned both soft and irritated with realization.

“Ay, niña,” she sighed unhappily. “I’m gonna wring his neck the next time I see him, you mark my words.”

#marcus moreno fanfiction #marcus moreno x female reader #marcus moreno x reader #we can be heroes fic #we can be heroes au #au fic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #sirowsky stories #superhero stories

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horseshoe-bay-ledger · 1 year

Text

Stasis

I was bored. I wrote this. It’s something. It’s also not the requests sitting in my ask box so sorry once again to those who have left them.

Essentially we’re in Curse Era but Ace shows up at Nancy’s door injured.

———

“Ace?”

There was panic in Nancy’s voice, the same that always came when she knew Ace was in danger or could possibly be hurt.

Except this time that possibility was very real and right in front of her. The physical proof stood in the entryway, leaning uncomfortably against a dooway and bleeding from a cut above his right eye.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” Ace promised.

He was still trying to reassure her even as he bleed onto her floor.

“Ace,” she sighed, as an admonishment almost. He was downplaying it because of course he was, it was Ace she was dealing with after all.

He seemed to take it as a critique of his presence there instead, though—like she was at all worried about him bothering her.

“I know. I’m sorry. I thought it would be maybe Carson and, um, or Ryan here.”

“No, just me,” she explained quietly.

Ace looked at her with an expression of unsureness to the point that he almost looked contrite. The wrongness of it echoed throughout her very being. She could feel herself frowning. It was the exact opposite of what they were and she could only really blame herself. It was an awful decision to be made, but in the end it was her who had made it.

He seemed to take her continued silence as an ostracisation rather than a lamentation of circumstance. That was another thing she could probably blame herself for—making him doubt how he understood her, what he saw when he looked through her eyes.

“I—I wouldn’t have come it’s just… I lost my keys at—uh, somewhere. Here was the closest. And there’s just no way I could go to my parents’, you know? Not with my dad right now. Not like this,” he waved his arm gesturing to himself. “And—”

He was more concerned about justifying his presence there than the potentially bruised ribs he was maybe carrying. She knew it was her fault he felt like this but it still pierced her heart like like a shard of glass, and the very fact it was her fault actually made that glass even sharper.

Of course he could come here, come to her, for help.

“Ace,” Nancy said one more time, decisively to cut off his unneeded apology. “Come in. You know your way round. You can stay here tonight but we need to clean you up first.”

She turned, hugging the door so he could pass. And he did—just very slowly. Not a good sign. All she wanted to do was reach out and help him. She settled for supporting his elbow a few steps.

“I’m okay,” Ace lied.

“Hmm.”

“I promise.”

“I know you, Mr. I’m Okay. I know you’re alright no matter what but that doesn’t mean you always have to be okay.”

She was telling him something about herself.

“C’mon. Kitchen stool’s probably best. I’ll run upstairs and grab the first-aid kit.”

She made her way hastily up the stairs and once she’d pulled the kit out from under the sink she took the briefest of moments to herself. She clutched the basin with her hands and let gravity take the weight of her head if just for a second. Then she drew herself up, wiped her face with her hands and took a deep breath. She made eye contact with herself in the mirror and did her best to muster some semblance of a brave face.

As she glided back down the stairs she saw that Ace had uncomfortably settled on one of the kitchen stools. Without looking at him directly she put the first-aid kit on the kitchen island with a loud thunk and opened it dramatically.

“Quite the extensive first-aid kit,” Ace commented.

Nancy hummed in agreement.

“I was a troublesome child,” she replied.

“I don’t doubt it.”

Her eyes flicked to his then. The look they shared was loaded and utterly unconnected to the words they were saying.

There was a long stretch of silence as Nancy tended to his (visible) wounds. Ace was trying to be stoic but she saw the slightest scrunch of his nose when something stung or hurt. She hated to admit she felt every single thing along with him. Awful thing to have your heart exist outside of your body.

She didn’t like she was adding to his pain either, even if it was helping him. There was some broader metaphor there but she was too emotionally exhausted to pay too much attention to it.

He was right though, it wasn’t as bad as it looked. He had that going for him at least.

“So,” Nancy said eventually, not as a beginning of a sentence but as a full sentence.

Ace only raised his eyebrows in response to her raised eyebrows so she decided to make the conversation, if you could call it that, more productive.

“You going to tell me what happened?” she prompted.

Ace just sighed, considering.

“Had a thing. Dug a bit too deep,” he said. “Some people didn’t like what I found.”

“Ah,” said Nancy. “The Nancy Drew Special.”

She granted him some time away from her probing questions, but they both knew that she wouldn’t drop it forever. He had known that when he said it but he had been asking for some time, a moment, some room to breathe—so she relented.

“You don’t have to do it on your own, you know,” she said after a beat.

“I know, I was going to call but…” he paused. Nancy knew exactly what the ‘but’ was about.

“Right,” she said, pausing. “Well, next time I’d still rather you call.”

Ace nodded.

“Noted,” he replied kindly. “Thanks.”

She gave him a tight smile and went back to work. She felt the weight of his gaze on her as she did.

Once she was done fixing his face up best she could she surveyed him. His face looked much better but he was still sitting awkwardly.

“I need to look at your side.”

“W—why?”

“Because I can tell by the way you’re leaning something’s wrong,” Nancy explained. “Can I please just have a look at least, I’ll be gentle.”

Ace gave her a discerning and somewhat disbelieving eye.

“Okay,” she conceded. “As gentle as I can be. Can I?”

She ran her fingers lightly along the hem of his shirt. His face hardened briefly before he quickly schooled his expression and nodded shortly so Nancy pulled up his shirt to see.

She poked around, but gently as she promised. She rode every wince with him, hating it all the way.

She pulled her head back after her examination. But her hands remained where they were. They feathered lightly over his side now, barely touching him and not with enough pressure to hurt. It was almost instinctive and she couldn’t help herself.

She needed to stop.

He blinked quickly and she thought she heard a stutter in his breath.

“I, uh,” Nancy tried, swallowing thickly. She hadn’t fully registered—or allowed herself to register—until just now how close he was and she was beginning to feel unsteady, a little heady.

She could not be distracted.

She would not be distracted.

Her mouth was slightly open now, she was probably going to say something but she had no idea what it would be, if it was anything at all.

Why was he looking at her like that?

She wanted him to stop but, also, she never wanted him to stop.

They both looked down at her fingers still traitorously tracing thoughtless shapes along his skin.

“I don’t think your ribs are bruised or broken,” she said more composed than she felt but barely above a whisper. It was easier now he wasn’t looking directly at her. But only marginally. “You’ll probably have a nasty bruise but there’s, um, not a lot to be done. I can grab you an ice pack or something.”

“Uh-huh,” Ace said, far off. He brought his hand up and grazed it along her wrist, cradling it in.

His fingers were barely touching her skin but she felt goosebumps in their wake. That was to say nothing of what it did to her heart. It felt like it was about to explode even with the most inane of touches.

His head was still bent, silently looking down at his right side—their hands. They were so close she could feel his hair brush gently at her forehead. She didn’t know if she had forgotten how to breath or whether she just unable to in this moment. Ace had stolen that away from her with just an index finger. She felt utterly and overwhelmingly entranced.

She should have left immediately—gone and got an ice pack freezer but instead she continued to stand in in place. Her feet, too, had turned traitors it seemed. What had happened to her will power? But she knew what happened: Ace had eroded it without even really trying.

If they just stayed like this, though, that would be alright. She could look at the nook of Ace’s elbow and want to push her thumb into it. She could think of doing the same to the crease now between his eyebrows. She could think about kissing him until neither of them could breathe, and then just a little bit more. She could do all of that and it would still be alright. No harm done. No fatal curses triggered. But then he had to go and look at her again.

And everything came undone. All her resolve, all the work she had done these past weeks to avoid him, everything. Her ears were ringing and the only sound she could make out now was that of her thundering heartbeat and Ace’s uneven breathing. Or maybe that was her uneven breathing—it was hard to tell.

They had a silent, one-second conversation that lasted a lifetime.

Then she saw the glint in his eye, and she knew the moment he decided he was going to lean forward and cross a threshold that could not be uncrossed.

Something screamed out a warning from deep within her and, suddenly, it was like someone had dumped a bucket of water over her head.

It took everything in her, but she pulled back. For him. Anything, even this. Even hurting him to help him.

She cleared her throat loudly. Ace was startled into refocusing on her abrupt re-routing of the moment. She could see him clock it, recover from it and put it away so he could dissect it later. For just a second she wished they weren’t so similar.

“I need to, uh,” she was quickly forgetting how words worked. She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Ice pack.”

When she came back with a bag of peas (it was all they had), she did her best to be as even and perfunctory as possible.

“I’ll bring a mattress down so you’re more comfortable and you don’t have to go upstairs,” Nancy said. “I can sleep on the couch.”

Ace’s throat bobbled and he looked like he was going to confront her. It was nothing but misplaced hope on her part that made her feel like there was even a possibility of avoiding that. How could she have made such a disastrous misstep? How would she parry this one?

She felt herself subtly pleading at him with her eyes. Desperately trying to reach out from behind the façade she once again had to put up.

She saw his expression change as he looked at her and his mind deviate at the last second. He knew her too well for his own good. She let out the breath she had been holding.

She knew that it was only a stay of execution. They were too much alike for him to be able to drop it entirely. She just hoped it could be delayed for as long as possible until she could figure something else out.

So he chose something else to argue with her about.

“I’m okay on the couch,” he insisted. “I’ve disrupted your night enough already.”

Nancy just shook her head and he relented. Normally he would keep insisting and end up taking the couch but he looked… tired. He probably figured out that she didn’t have the bandwidth to fight him on it either. Not after they had reached some sort of multifaceted truce on confrontation.

She went about setting them up for the night. Ace kept trying to help to the point where she literally had to slap him away at one stage.

“What’s the point of me doing this if you’re just going to hurt yourself more?” she’d said, buried under an armful of blankets and pillows.

“You wouldn’t have to carry so much,” he said simply.

He was telling her something about himself.

“Sit there and drink your tea. It’s some fancy brand Ryan bought and he’d be mad if you wasted it.”

That seemed to finally strike a chord with him and he sat back down.

In all honestly, she could’ve taken one of her dad’s beds but she wanted to be near so she could be sure Ace was okay (that was what she told herself anyway). It hadn’t passed by her notice that he could definitely have picked the locks at his own place but they’d deal with wherever Florence was tomorrow. And the fact Ace probably needed to see a doctor.

They just needed to get through the night.

“Ace,” she whispered into the dark. “If you snore I will kick you out.”

There was a moment that all her anxieties threatened to rush up and fill but then…

“Fair,” he replied sleepily.

It was quiet after that but Nancy knew it would be short lived. She found that, not for the first time, she was somewhat dreading her morning coffee.

#mediocre at best #my sweet spot #it’s a little cliche I know but here we are #probably typos galore #I’m once again putting out drafts as final versions #I’m at that stage in my life I guess #nancy drew #nancy x ace #nace #ace [redacted]#ace x nancy #nace fic #ndcw #cw nancy drew #nancy drew cw

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attzi-gearburst · 1 year

Text

Day 1 - February 19: Weakness (Iranji)

Word Count: 750 Summary: As usual, young Iranji has a hard day at home in Zandalar. Warnings: physical/emotional abuse (his dad is a bad man) @daily-writing-challenge

Iranji was in the kitchen with his mother and sister, doing the dishes from lunch. His mother was washing, then handing each dish down to him to be dried. He took his job seriously, slowly and methodically drying off each one before handing it to his much taller sister, who would then put it neatly away. His mother and sister were singing songs together as they worked, and occasionally tried to get him to join in, but he just listened.

He was a very good listener, which is why he was the first to hear the front door open. His eyes went wide, and he looked up at his mother, who immediately recognized that facial expression. She and his sister stopped singing immediately, and the work in the kitchen progressed silently.

“Once we’re done, go play outside, baby,” his mother murmured down to him.

He nodded. Outside, where his father and brothers wouldn’t be able to track him down so easily? That would be ideal, even if it was really hot out. He could go down to the docks, where there would be a sea breeze, and ships to watch.

He ducked behind his mother when he heard footsteps, but that didn’t stop his father from immediately noticing him when he strode into the kitchen. His father stood, tall and broad, in the doorway, and pointed down at him.

“Your brothers and I need help unloading the cart. We’ve got a lot of nets and ropes to repair and very little time to do it.”

His mother held out a hand to keep Iranji from walking over. “Have Nuhia do it. Iranji can help me finish here.”

His sister stepped forward, but his father shook his head. “Boy needs the exercise.”

“He just got over a fever!”

“He’s always sick,” his father said, waving a hand dismissively. “Iranji. Get over here. And hurry.”

His father glowered down at him, so he obeyed. He stepped out from behind his mother and silently followed his father out to the cart, which was stacked high with coiled, fraying ropes, tangled nets, and torn nets. Immediately, one of his older brothers tossed a rope at him, which he managed to catch without dropping.

“Workshop,” his brother ordered.

Half an hour later, Iranji was wheezing, but the cart was nearly empty. He wanted to pause and breathe, but every time he stopped moving, either his father or his two older brothers would glower down at him and raise a hand in warning. So he climbed into the cart to get one of the remaining nets in the back, gathering it up in his arms to bring it to the workshop.

He fell getting out of the cart. The net broke his fall, thankfully, but the impact got him coughing loudly. He tried again to catch his breath, but before he could, a sharp pain in his side took the rest of his breath away. He doubled over, coughing harder, as his father stood over him.

“Get up.”

Iranji tried, but he was struggling to breathe, and only made it to his knees before his father kicked at him again. He doubled over again and lay on the net, quietly wheezing.

“You’re getting too old to play in the house all day, Iranji. Just because you look like a girl doesn’t mean you get to be treated like one in my house,” he heard his father say behind his coughs. “Get up, get that net into the workshop. And if it’s not fully repaired by dinner, you’re not getting any. I’ll find some way to make you carry your weight here.”

His father reached over the side of the cart, grabbing a long coil of rope, and shouldered it effortlessly. Iranji kept an eye on him, making sure he was out of kicking range before he tried to move again.

Once the man was out of sight, his sister appeared, braving his wrath should she be caught by helping Iranji up. “Thanks,” he said as he tried to stand up straight.

A look of surprise crossed her face. It was rare for anyone to hear him speak. She glanced at the house, and then back down at him. “Come on,” she said, reaching for the rope. “I’ll help you carry this in so you can get started.”

He didn’t want her to get into trouble if she got caught, so Iranji shook his head. He gathered the net back up himself, ignoring the pain in his side, and walked for the workshop.

His sister didn’t push the issue.

Thankfully, Iranji had the net neatly repaired before it was time for dinner. He might not be physically strong, but he’d always been good with his hands.

#februarydwc2023 #februaryday12023 #attzi-gearburst.tumblr.com #Iranji

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skymaiden32 · 2 years

Text

Braving the Storm

Thundertober/Inktober 2022 Day 17: Hurricane

The hurricane was far too strong to come out anytime soon. Guess they were staying in this basement for now… Wee!Tracy’s

Continuity: TAG

Tagging: @dragonoffantasyandreality @thundergeek59 @janetm74 @katblu42 @liseylou (Please ask if you would like to be alerted when I update or write new stories)

Prompt list

------

“I’ve got you, baby. It’s okay. You’re okay…” Scott rubbed a calming hand on his little brother’s back as the wind howled outside. “Deep breaths, Allie…”

Alan had always had a fear of storms, and anything with gale force winds, like the hurricane that was currently battering their home, dialled that fear up to eleven. The logical part of his six-year-old brain told him that they were safe here, but he just curled up even further into Scott’s chest, breathing in the comforting scent of his brother’s shirt. Once he had calmed down slightly, enough to poke his head out to look at the rest of his family, Scott sighed.

“Any sign of him yet?” The eldest brother frowned in the direction of the basement door. “And please stay away from the door…”

“No. He must’ve been in town when the storm hit. He did say he might go out today.” Virgil shook his head, moving back towards the main group and sitting next to Gordon. “You know what Dad’s like though, I’m sure he’ll be fine…”

“He better be…”

A moment of silence passed between them before anyone said something else. “Why don’t we play something to pass the time?” Gordon suggested.

“Like what?” John rolled his eyes fondly. “There’s no board games down here, and I’m pretty sure eye-spy would get boring fast…”

“Oh!” Alan was bouncing up and down excitedly. “We could play Rescuers! I play it all the time with my friends at school! We even have the perfect amount of people to play.”

“That sounds fun!” Gordon grinned at his immediate younger brother. “How do you play?”

Alan smiled as he explained the game to his brothers. “Okay, so there are two rescuers who have to save two victims, and there’s also someone on mission control who guides the rescuers to the danger zone.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Scott smiled down at his brother. “Well, it’s your game, Al. So you get to decide who’s who…”

Alan thought for a moment before making up his mind. “John’s mission control because he’s smart. Scotty and Virgil, you two are the victims because you’re in trouble and need rescuing like, all the time.”

“Fair enough…”

“Which means Gordy and me are the rescuers!”

Gordon smirked. That was never a good sign. “Sweet…”

------

“Oh no!” Virgil exclaimed in faux terror, surrounded on all sides by the small pillow fort he’d just finished building. “I’m trapped! I sure hope help is coming soon, or I’ll surely perish…”

“Don’t worry!” Gordon sped toward him. “We’ll save you!”

John’s voice drifted through the chaos. “You’ll need to guide him out of there. It’s pretty dark.” The family prankster grabbed a hold of his hand, and Virgil shuffled out of the fort.

Once he was out, Virgil breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you so much for saving me.” Gordon grinned. “But my brother is missing! He went to get help, and I think he might have gotten stuck somewhere out there.”

“I think I’ve found him, Gordon.” Alan yelled from the other side of the room. “He’s stuck on that cliff!”

That was his cue. “Help!” Scott yelled from his spot on the stairs. “I’m not sure how much longer this ledge will hold. Please hurry!”

“Hang on just a little longer!” Alan yelled back. “We’re coming for you.”

This time, Virgil was in clear view of the ‘rescue’. “Be careful as you climb up there, Alan.” John advised. “That cliff seems unstable, so grab him and get out.”

“Got it.”

Once Scott was back on the ground, Virgil walked up to him. “Thank you so much for saving us.” Scott said to the two youngest brothers. “It was very brave of you both to risk your lives to save us.”

“All in a days work, kind citizen!” Gordon exclaimed.

“So long as Rescuers Alan and Gordon Tracy are on the case, you should be safe!”

Virgil smirked. “Hey, our surname is Tracy too…” He gave Alan a wink. “Maybe we’re related…”

The basement filled with laughter at Virgil’s joke. Once it had died down, Alan was the first to notice it. “Hey! There’s no storm outside anymore.” He looked up at Scott. “Can we go upstairs now?”

Scott hummed, unsure. “Let me just check it’s safe to come out first, okay sweetie?” Alan slumped, dejected. “I’ll let you know if it’s safe or not, and if it is, we can go outside, okay?”

“Okay!” Alan perked right up again as Scott ascended the stairs. A few anxious minutes went by before he came back.

“Hurricane’s passed now.” He smiled as they all came bounding up the steps. “And you’ll never guess who’s in the kitchen…”

Gordon gasped. “Is it Dad?” Scott nodded, smiling as he watched the three younger brothers rush past him into the kitchen.

“Wow. Shocker.” Virgil deadpanned. “I told you he’d be okay…”

Scott rolled his eyes as his immediate younger brother fell into step next to him. “I know. You were right. Sorry for worrying, I guess…”

“That’s the thing, Scooter.” Virgil sighed. “You worry so much I’m scared you’ll overwork yourself and die of stress by the time you’re thirty…”

“I’m choosing to ignore that.” Scott frowned as the pair walked into the kitchen, where their father was currently being run ragged by Gordon and Alan. John just waited patiently at the other end of the table. “How’d your meeting go, Dad?”

Jeff gave his eldest a reassuring grin. Scott and the boy’s grandmother were the only ones aware of his plan at this point. “He’s a wonderful inventor. And, an even greater guy! Let’s just say he approves of the plan and wants to see it through.” The patriarch sighed, pulling Alan into his lap. “Anyway, enough about your boring old man. I wanna hear all about this Rescuers game you boys were playing.” He ruffled Gordon’s hair.

“Can I tell him?” Alan asked, looking around at his brothers. Once everyone had given him an encouraging nod, he started to tell Jeff all about it…

#thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderfam #alan tracy #scott tracy #virgil tracy #gordon tracy #john tracy #jeff tracy #thundertober 2022 #sky writes stuff

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issytheamateurnerd · 1 year

Note

Hi Issy! For your Madeleine Timeline challenge:

How about when (or soon after) Grey administers the antidote for 47's memory loss?

Excellent choice, Mythy! I love me some angsty scenes! Sorry about the wait but oh well, nothing I can do about it now. I hope you like it!

youtube

Long Shot

“It’s a long shot, I know.”

-—

Diana pressed her forehead to 47's, gently stroking his arm in a comforting manner.

Madeleine weakly smiled and leaned back in her chair, glancing over at Mr. Grey. Well, technically her Uncle Grey.

He side-eyed the couple with an estranged look. Madeleine may not have been very social but she knew enough about reading expressions and social cues to know that he wasn't exactly happy about their relationship. Mainly from a clear distrust of her mother, but she thought some of it also came from a “protective big brother” behavior he had towards 47.

Despite this, Madeleine was still unsure of his feelings about her. He was respectful and decently talkative around her, asked questions and was patient with her's. But right now he seemed….indifferent.

She had certainly come as a surprise to him.

After 47 had reunited with his brother, they’d agreed to meet up with Diana and Ms. Hall in a safehouse in Berlin.

Diana and Madeleine had known about Grey, and he’d known about Diana, but not about Madeleine. Upon arriving at the safehouse, 47 had opened the door and immediately been ensnared in a hug by a teenage girl, while Grey stared in surprise, at a loss for words. The only thing he’d managed to say was “Who…what…why is there a child?!”

Had the situation been less tense, his reaction would have been hysterical.

There’d been no time to laugh, of course.

Now, she sat in a wobbly chair, her attention was divided between her parents and her uncle as he prepared the antidote for her father's memories.

Madeleine felt her shoulders tense, she had no clue what would happen, what he would see…how it might change him. None of them did, especially him.

She gripped her own arm with an intensity only connected to worry and stress. No matter what, she would not be selfish, taking the antidote was his choice. He pretended like his mysterious past didn't bother him, but she knew it did, he was in the mindset of, “Even if I don’t like what I see, not knowing is worse.” She understood that much.

Diana kissed 47 quickly and walked away to the other room, presumably to speak with Ms. Hall, but maybe the tension was getting to her as well.

47 sat quietly on the couch, before she could stop herself she paced over and sat beside him.

“How are you doing?” As soon as she asked she regretted it, she should've just kept quiet.

47 looked at her, “How are you doing?”

Madeleine was a little surprised by his question, “Dad, I’m fine, how can you worry about me right now?”

47 responded calmly, “I know this isn't only hard for me, but I want to tell you, I’ll still be me.” He smiled a smile so small, most people wouldn't have seen it at all, but Madeleine felt it in her chest and smiled back.

“Are you scared at all?”

“Scared of what?”

“Even if it doesn't change who you are, no matter what it’s going to be a lot to take in.”

47 looked forward and sighed, “We've been searching for this for a long time, and I always finish my missions.”

Madeleine huffed a small laugh, “You’re right, we can't back down now,” She leaned on his shoulder, “ we just have to be brave.”

“You don't have to be brave, but I need you to be courageous.”

Madeleine inhaled deeply and nodded, exhaling slowly to calm herself.

“I will, I promise.”

---

Madeleine and Diana watched Lucas insert the needle into 47's neck, his face remained stern as the serum was injected and Grey pulled away slowly.

He retained a blank expression but Madeleine saw his pupils dilate unnaturally fast before he shut his eyes. Madeleine almost said something but Diana placed her hand on her shoulder as a silent reminder to wait.

47's eyes opened and he stared deeply into nothing.

Lucas sat down to face his brother.

“Now, 47, do you remember anything that can help us? Anything at all?” he said, but quickly quieted when Diana gave him that “stop talking right now” look that Madeleine was all too familiar with.

47 was just as silent.

The three of them watched him intensely, waiting for something.

To their surprise, he stood up, and started walking away.

“47, are you ok?” Diana asked, quickly standing after him.

She followed him, catching him just in time as he fell against the window, his legs wobbling underneath him.

“Easy now, you’re alright.”

Madeleine had seen him injured before, but she had never seen him unsteady. She and Lucas jumped up as Diana carefully guided him to the couch and helped him sit.

“Six…?”

“I'm right here, 47,” Lucas said, “take it slow.”

47 reached over and took Madeleine hand and held it tight, she squeezed back.

He stared at the floor for a long time, no one dared say anything the entire time. Until Madeleine decided to be courageous and break him from his trance.

“Dad…what do you remember?”

47 looked up, “I remember who he is.”

#hitman #hitman fandom #hitman fanfiction #madeleine burnwood #agent 47 #diana burnwood #lucas grey #47 x diana #diana/47 #The Madeleine Timeline

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kelyon · 1 year

Text

Live Wire 2: Moving In

Bailey Gold gets dragged across state lines to live in some creepy old mansion.

Reference photos for the house

Read on AO3

Bailey Gold slumped against the window of the passenger’s side of his dad’s car. He held a potted plant on his lap and a fish tank between his feet. Some things were too fragile to let the movers take in their van.

The drive from Boston to Maine was hot and long and stupid. Most of the conversation was about the new town they were moving into, Storybrooke.

“So you’re telling me this place doesn’t have a movie theater?”

Papa kept his eyes on the road. “There’s one the next town over.”

He rolled his eyes and thwumped back into the seat. “You’d have to drive me there. Every time. You’d probably sit in the car in the parking lot and read for two hours.”

“Sounds like a treat to me. Or we could go to the movies together.”

“Yeah, but you don’t like movies.”

“I like movies,” Papa protested. “What I don’t like are feature-length theme park rides.”

Bae blew out a stream of air. In Boston, the nearest multiplex was only two bus stops away from their apartment. He could go by himself and meet his friends there. They could watch movies and eat junk food and he never had to care if it met the ‘artistic merits’ his father cared so much about.

He tried another tactic. “Are there any museums there?”

For as long as he could remember, they’d had memberships to every art, science, and history museum in town. He’d been crazy for dinosaurs when he was a kid. Even now that he was older, the museums were still interesting. At least, they were something to do. And there was no question that they met Papa’s approval.

“I’m sure there’s something about local history.”

“Local history? Papa, we’re leaving behind the entire history of the American Revolution!”

His father only snorted. “There’s more to the world than America.”

He fell back against the headrest. “Then why didn’t we move to Scotland? It’s gotta be better than Maine.”

“I don’t think your mother would appreciate me taking you out of the county.”

“Whatever. She doesn’t care.”

Papa slowed down a little. He took one hand off the steering wheel to put it on Bae’s shoulder. “Hey, listen. Your mother is a complicated woman, but she does love you. It was brave of her to admit that she can’t take care of you the way you deserve. She will want to see you again, and when she does, it will be easier if you’re close.”

Bae didn’t say anything. He looked out the window, watched the forest pass by. It didn’t make sense that Papa had more faith in his mother than he did. Wasn’t divorcing someone supposed to mean you hated that person? But Papa never seemed to hate Mom, even when she was at her worst. He was just sad for her. It was the same thing whenever Bae messed up--he said he wasn’t mad, just disappointed.

Bae was mad. Your mother is supposed to care about you. Your mother is supposed to put you first. At the very least, a kid should be in the top three on a mom’s list of priorities. From a young age, Bae had figured out that his mother’s first three concerns were always sex, drugs, and rock and roll.

He shook his head, got back to the subject of why Papa shouldn’t move him to some stupid little town in the middle of nowhere.

“Does this place even have a library?”

“That it does,” Papa grinned. “Practically right next door to where I’m going to have my shop. You can go there whenever you like.”

Bae sighed. It probably wouldn’t have any of the events and clubs the Boston Public Library did. But at least it was something. That was all he wanted: Something interesting to happen in this new place.

****

Why was it pink?

He was still in the car. At fourteen, Bae hadn’t been taught how to drive, or how to hotwire a car, but he was pretty sure he could figure out both skills on the fly. All he had to do was slide over into the driver’s seat, fiddle with some wires, and press the gas pedal--whichever one that was. He could be on the road back to Boston and Papa would never be able to run after him.

Nah, he’d get pulled over. Or he’d need to stop for gas and he didn’t have any money. There weren’t any gas stations that would accept a potted poinsettia or a tank full of female betta fish as payment, and that was all Bae had on him right now.

So he opened the car door and stepped out, holding the plant in both hands. Papa was standing in front of the yard, looking up at the house. When Bae stood beside him, he saw that he was smiling.

Seeing how happy his father was to be here made Bae feel bad for hating moving so much. He still wanted to go home, but he was ready to admit that wasn’t going to happen. One way or another, this was their home now.

“So, pink, huh?”

Papa chuckled. “They liked their colors in the Victorian era. I did check to make sure the walls weren’t papered in arsenic green.”

He walked to the porch, so happy he barely needed his cane. Bae followed.

“Arsenic? Isn’t that poison?”

“It certainly is.” Papa pulled out the key to the front door. “And also a very vibrant dye. But don’t worry, son. Everything is safe in there.”

While his father fiddled with the lock, Bae looked around the outside. He tried to think of something good to say about this new place. “We’ve never had a yard before.”

“There’s a patio in the back, too,” Papa said. “I was thinking of putting in a fire pit.”

He nodded slowly. Their apartment in the city had been great, but there weren’t a lot of options for outdoor stuff. Papa had tried to “enrich” Bae’s summers with camping trips that had always ended in one disaster or another. Maybe a yard and a fire pit was a better place to start.

With a heavy sigh, Bae followed his father into the house.

“Count yourself lucky,” Papa said. “It used to be pink on the inside too.”

Bae wrinkled his nose as he looked around the main entrance. “And now it’s gray and white.”

“Gypsum and Homburg. It took me a long time to decide on those paint colors.”

It looked… clean, Bae guessed. The movers would be coming later with the furniture and most of the boxes, so right now the whole house was empty. It felt empty. Their voices echoed as they spoke. Outside it was getting hot, but the house made Bae shiver. It was all really weird.

“I bet somebody died in here,” he said.

Papa just chuckled. “Maybe you were right about moving to Scotland. Back there, it’s when someone hasn’t died in a house that you know something’s wrong with it.”

“No, I mean… doesn’t it feel creepy to you?”

“No,” Papa said. He ran his hands over the polished wood around the door and the staircase and the fireplace inside the entryway. Bae could see how much he was trying not to smile. “This place feels exciting, son. It’s a blank canvas, it can become anything.”

Bae let out a whoosh of air and tried to see the house the way Papa saw it.

“The stained glass around the door is pretty,” he offered.

“There’s more on the stair landing, do you see that?” Papa turned Bae’s body to look. “And there’s a window in that little nook here.”

“Oh that’s cool,” he admitted. “I didn’t know we had nooks.”

“Might even be a cranny around here somewhere.” Papa looked at his watch. “The movers will be here soon. Why don’t you look around upstairs while I handle things down here? Go say hello to the house.”

Bae snorted. “What?”

“Like in that movie you used to watch. The Japanese cartoon? About the two little girls who moved into a new house.”

“My Neighbor Totoro? That’s a kid’s movie.”

“I liked it.”

Bae rolled his eyes but started to go upstairs anyway. “I’m gonna go find a sunny window for the plant,” he said. “Then a shady spot where I can put my fish tank. I do not need to say hello to a house.”

Papa just shrugged. “Well, don’t blame me if the soot spirits decide they don’t like you because you were rude to them.”

He shook his head and went to the second floor. Soot spirits! Did Papa think he was still a kid? There weren’t any spirits in this house.

****

Bae’s bedroom was on the third floor. He picked it out because he wanted a balcony. Papa had let him because the balcony was so high up there was no way he could climb down to sneak out of the house. Not that Bae would do something like that. In Storybrooke, where was there to go?

He put his poinsettia on the balcony, and his fish on a shelf in a nook by the balcony door. When he plugged in the tank, the filter gurgled to life and started working right away.

“Awesome,” he said to himself. He meant it, too. That filter didn’t always work the first time, or at least it hadn’t in Boston. He’d thought he would have to get Papa to buy him a new one, but now maybe he wouldn’t.

With his two most important possessions taken care of, Bae decided to help move in everything else. The charger for his phone was in one of the suitcases he’d packed into the car. He should find that before the battery ran out. His laptop, too, he should get that out of the heat as soon as he could.

He took the narrow back staircase that led down into the kitchen. The movers were using the main stairs, now he could stay out of their way. This would also be a great way to sneak past Papa for late-night snacks.

Maybe this house wasn’t so bad after all.

#live wire

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