#rest of em just want the excuse to hate for the sake of it and i find it really sad at this point | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rottenbrainstuff · 3 months

Text

BG3 playthrough - start of Act 3

WTFFFF you guys weren’t kidding, act 3 is so full of things, it’s overwhelming. (Spoilers below)

Geeze ok where to start. My tav just wants a little time to rest and reflect on everything that’s happened and everything that’s been revealed, but nope - no rest for him, the camp is attacked by githzerai in the middle of the goddamned night and we have the Big Emperor Reveal.

Huh. That wasn’t really exactly what I was expecting, actually, somehow. I was expecting more “this thing that was helping us (or claiming to anyways) is actually an evil mindflayer and now it can manipulate us into doing what it wants more directly” and less “this mindflayer says it’s actually a nice friendly and totally heroic mindflayer and it just wants to be adventure buddies and wants us to be as devastatingly beautiful as (it thinks) it is.” (and somehow, I trust that even less!)

There appears to be a bit of a dialogue mistake. When you ask for proof and the Emperor lists the things you’ve done, he mentioned telling me about his room at the Elfsong Tavern. Lol what room? You never said that. I’ve run into a bunch of dialogue like this unfortunately, where it’s clear maybe something was changed or edited along the way, but old bits of dialogue are still there later on. Act 2 and act 3 definitely show some rough edges, but I still don’t really care too much. I’m having so much fun playing this game and I think the team worked so hard on it.

But going back to that dialogue…….. In my game, I made the perception check back in act 1 to notice the guardian looked tired, and I gave him a nice friendly little hug. Ok? Dude you look tired, do you need a hug? Yeah a hug would be nice bro, thanks. And then he mentioned his old girlfriend. Ok? It was just bros being nice supportive bros. Ok?

And this is how the Emperor described that encounter: “that night when you held me, and I was feeling vulnerable.” EXCUSE ME that is NOT how I would describe how that went down. No. No buddy. That is the wrong language to use to describe that, no. I am a bit scandalized by his recounting. Lol.

So then I met up with my tiefling buddies sitting in camp and not knowing what to do, and the people all around them bitching about refugees. Wow topical. In looking around for info online, I’ve found a lot of discussion of how the NPC’s negative reactions to the refugees are justified, actually, and I guess this isn’t surprising at all, because people hate refugees in real life, too. But look. Ok. I understand your fears and concerns about refugees. Perhaps even for the sake of this argument, we can assume that I agree with you, just for the next five minutes. Ok. And I’m not going to say I even know what the solution is. But then I ask you - where the hell are they supposed to go then? Like. My god. These guys don’t want to be here either. They would much rather be back at the only home they’ve ever known. They’re not sitting in a crowded camp, knocking on the door of Baldur’s Gate because it’s fun. They literally can’t go back. Half of them have fucking died on the road. Ok Mr Pure Proper Baldurian, so you don’t want them here: where the hell do you want them to go, then? They don’t belong in Baldur’s Gate, ok fine, but then where should they go instead?

And of course, the answer is that no one cares. Don’t care, just don’t want ‘em here. Not our problem, they can figure that out somewhere else. But everyone says that, everywhere. No one wants refugees. They are supposed to just not exist. How rude of you to have been born in an area where something happened that caused you to not be able to live there anymore. How rude of you to leave that area when you should have just stayed and died. How dare you have the audacity to pack up your children and flee with almost nothing beyond the clothes on your back and come here asking for help. Go die on the road.

The stuff the NPCs are saying just makes me so depressed because it’s so real. “Anyone could be hiding with these refugees!” “They’re coming here and taking our livelihoods!” “We need to protect the culture of the true Baldarians!” Jesus. Man, too real, too real. How are you guys seriously going online and arguing about why these guys are correct? How are you guys not aware that you are the cartoon villains? Sigh. Siiiiiiigh.

Anyways. Moving forward. It’s somewhat bemusing that Zorru is here, talking about how angry he is at Zevlor for letting them down. Look, the tieflings’ anger at Zevlor is absolutely valid, but ZORRU IN PARTICULAR? My buddy, you ran off leaving your friend to fight githyanki all by himself, and he was killed. My buddy, you ran off and deserted the refugees the night before the siege. And there’s no shame in being afraid. Certainly if I was the one stuck in the fantasy video game, I might have run, myself. But then, I wouldn’t be so loudly critical of others who also made poor choices.

Oh well.

(Depressingly, the game is including bugged background NPC conversations about Alfira: how much they liked travelling with her on the road, and how she’s in Baldur’s Gate now and sent them a letter, as if I didn’t horribly murder her in act 1. Augh! Way to twist the knife in further!)

Hey you wanna see my tav, btw? My giant scary drow bard dark urge who is trying to be a good boy, who JUST found out he is a goddamned bhaalspawn and doesn’t know what the fuck to do now:

And here is my 8 str weenie boy team:

I know part of the height difference is that he’s standing a bit closer to the camera, but I still think it’s funny.

It’s hilarious how everyone is arguing about how tall Astarion is, as if it’s some sort of crime if he’s not over 5’9”. My tav is six foot fuck off tall, and everyone has to look up to talk to him. The only person I’ve seen so far at his eye level is Halsin. It doesn’t matter to me exactly what you guys want to argue Astarion’s height is, to my tav he is a short king and I love him for it. I dunno why you guys need him to be so tall. Let him be short goddammit. 5’9” isn’t even short.

Here he is not being much impressed with Marcus, what the heck is this little pouty “hmph!” face lmao:

And here is my dream guardian, what a beautiful bastard:

Act 3 is notoriously buggy and the quests are notoriously broken. Here’s hoping that I don’t run into any game-breaking problems, because I am SO EMOTIONALLY INVESTED in this playthrough and if I can’t get to the end I am going to cry.

#bg3 #baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 playthrough #bg3 spoilers

1 note · View note

yandere-daydreams · 3 years

Text

Title: Survival of the Fittest.

Pairing: Yandere!Bakugo/Reader/Yandere!Kirishima (BNHA).

Word Count: 3.6k.

TW: Apocalypse/No Quirks AU, Unhealthy Codependency, Non-Consensual Touching, Mentions of Death/injury, Non-Graphic Violence, Imprisonment.

You were lucky Kirishima had been the one to find you.

‘Find’ might’ve been the wrong word. It implied that he was looking, that he wanted to discover you, bleeding and battered and bruised, cowering in a grimy corner of what used to be a grocery store. It must’ve looked pathetic, but you couldn’t bring yourself to be embarrassed by your torn clothes, your matted hair, the way you’d whimpered as he first approached, all wide eyes and open arms. Survivors were few and far between, and it’d been weeks since you saw another living, breathing person. Kirishima hadn’t seemed like a god-send, not in the moment, but he was a miracle. You’d been too shocked to thank him properly, as he pulled you to your feet and practically carried you out of the city, but you should. You wanted to. You owed him that, if nothing else.

You were lucky it’d been him, rather than Bakugo. You were grateful it hadn’t been Bakugo.

You’d probably still be rotting in that corner, if it had been.

He didn’t seem to like you very much, even if he had begrudgingly moved aside when Kirishima asked if he could bring you inside. It was a bunker, judging by the sparse furniture littered around the common area, plain cement walls only adorned with the occasional hunting knife or bat left to lean against them. The bench Kirishima had left you on was wooden, too stiff to ever be comfortable, but it was a practical choice. Fabric was a luxury to be stowed away and treasured, saved for things more important than a stranger’s comfort. You’d do the same thing, if you’d been in his shoes.

That didn’t stop Bakugo from glaring, though, perching himself on the edge of a nearby crate and refusing to take his eyes off of you, as if you’d already earned and lost his trust. “There’s no fucking advantage,” He started, but he wasn’t talking to you. You weren't worth his time, just yet, not while you were still just a stray Kirishima was too much of a saint to turn away. “We’re not a damn food bank. It’s not out responsibility to babysit every dumbass on the verge of death.”

“Don’t listen to him.” At least Kirishima was kind enough to address you as he slipped back into the common room, taking his place at your side and handing you something – a mug, cremated and unchipped and filled to the brim with something watery, steam still rising off the top. Your first sip was hesitant, but you couldn’t stop yourself from draining the cup once you recognized the taste. Coffee. Cheap, bitter, heavenly coffee, the kind you didn’t have enough clean water to risk trying to make. You could’ve kissed him. You might’ve, if the calm levity in his voice hadn’t snapped you out of it. “Katsuki’s just a little defensive, when it comes to guests. We’ve got plenty of supplies to go ‘round, and…” He trailed off, glancing over you. To the bruises circling your wrist, the stained bandages peaking out from underneath your shirt. To the spot where your ankle twisted just a little too far to the left for the angle to be natural, the evidence of a fall you tried and failed to break with something besides your own body. “I don’t think we can kick someone out in good faith with those kinda injuries. Not with all the crawler activity, lately.”

You flinched at the name alone. Crawler, creatures, the things that used to be people and weren’t, not now, not anymore. You used to think of them as zombies, but that wasn’t right. Calling them zombies would be an injustice, even if they did tend to rot if left to their own devices. Zombies weren’t that fast. Zombies weren’t that distorted. You’d encountered three or four, but you tried to avoid attracting them, when you could. It was easier, when you were on your own.

Bakugo groaned, bringing you out of your thoughts. You tried to stop your hands from shaking, as he spoke. “You’ve got a group to run back to, right? Nobody survives that long without one.”

You tried not to sound as small as you felt. Judging from the way Kirishima glanced away, it was a futile effort. “Nobody survives that long with one, either.”

Kirishima’s hand came to rest on your shoulder, and Bakugo crossed his arms, a sign that must’ve meant submission, judging by Kirishima’s optimistic response. “Just until your ankle’s healed up,” He promised, a compromise you hadn’t asked him to make. “You’ll stay until then, right? ‘d be a shame if we had to lose another person because of Katsuki’s bad attitude.”

There was a sharp ‘hey’, a barely stifled laugh, and slowly, you forced yourself to nod, immediately receiving a bright grin from Kirishima by way of reward. It was a practical choice, honestly – they had food, they had shelter, they didn’t seem to be grasping at threads just to get by. Even if Kirishima was a little too friendly and Bakugo wasn’t nearly friendly enough, you could life with that, you could get by. Once you’d worn out your welcome, you’d leave. As soon as you were fixed up.

You didn’t want to wait for things to go bad, this time.

Despite his reluctance, Bakugo didn’t take long to warm up to you.

Kirishima was still the approachable one, obviously. He was who you went to when you needed to find something, when you had a question about their ration system or weaponry or the parts of the bunker you weren’t allowed to go in, rooms with steel doors and deadbolts on the handle and a raw, metallic smell emanating from the other side, but Bakugo always seemed to be lingering just behind him, ready to scoff and roll his eyes before he took you by the wrist and explained that, if you expected to reap the benefits of their hospitality, you had to at least try to pull your weight. He was helpful, like that, his help less patronizing than Kirishima’s, albeit twice as easily frustrated. Still, he didn’t hate you. If anything, he seemed to—

“If you slow down one more time, I’ll feed ya to the damn bears myself.”

You sped up, reflexively. He didn’t hate you, but it wasn’t too late for him to start.

It’d been Kirishima’s idea for you to go hunting. You were still in a splint, the majority of your calf an abstract blend of medical tape and cloth padding, but you bit back the pain as you followed Katsuki down the rough, unpaved trail, gritting your teeth past the ache forming under your skin. It wasn’t a raid. If anything, you were only getting further from the city, working your way up the mountain their bunker was carved into the base of. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been concerned about the crossbow in Katsuki’s hands, the weapon already loaded and poised, but the hunting knife strapped to your thigh eased your nerves, as did his disinterest in doing anything but trudging forward. If he didn’t take the time to call back to you every few minutes, you might’ve thought he’d forgotten you were there entirely.

But, silence never suited you never well. Not with a near-stranger, at least. “You’re not afraid of crawlers?”

“This far out? Fuck no.” It was an immediate answer, quick and shameless. Like an amputation, if an amputation left you nursing a bruised ego rather than bleeding out. “There’s enough fresh meat in the city to keep ‘em occupied. Only the runts ever bother coming out here to look for scraps.”

“I would’ve been that meat,” You mumbled, absent-mindedly. It was an idle thought, more of an admission than an accusation, but judging by the way his posture slackened, how quickly his attention shifted to the foliage, he wouldn’t have cared either way. “If Kirishima hadn’t found me, I mean. God knows I look like an easy target.”

“You are an easy target. Just be glad he’s got a weak spot for charity cases.”

You opened your mouth, ready to ask what he meant, you lost your footing before you got the chance, slipping on the damp leaf litter as a spike of something agonizing ran from your heel to your knee. Bakugo didn’t flinch, letting you catch yourself on his shoulder as he raised his crossbow, barely taking a moment to aim before firing. You could feel the kick-back, a jolting reverberation that only seemed to make the wet thunk that followed a little worse, the sound of an arrow piercing skin and flesh.

You expected that. You were ready for it. But, you hadn’t been prepared for the deafening scream that came afterwards, heart-piercing and human. You moved to rush toward its source, but Bakugo only caught your arm, shaking his head. Like he’d missed, like he’d only killed a deer. Like there wasn’t a person thrashing in the underbrush, still crying out as he spoke over them. “Looters,” He explained, like that was an excuse. “We’ve been dealin’ with them for a while, now. ’s just a scout, but he would’ve been back with reinforcements if we let him run off untouched.”

Bile rose in the back of your throat. For your own sake, you chose to believe him. “So? We can’t just—”

“Yes, we can.” It wasn’t a question. He didn’t need your permission, and he didn’t want your compliance. He didn’t even bother to justify himself before he turned away, starting back on the trail as you stood, still too shocked to move. “C’mon, we’ve already lost enough sunlight, and I’m not wasting arrows on scum. The fucker can drag himself back to his hideout, for all I care.”

You could’ve argued. Bakugo didn’t seem to think the blow was fatal, but you could’ve checked, made sure, offer what might’ve been a dying man a few last seconds of company before he bit the bullet. You could’ve, part of you wanted to, but…

But then, Bakugo tossed a glare over his shoulder, and your attention was brought back to the crossbow in his hands, to the machete strapped to his belt, to how pitifully small your knife was, in comparison. You didn’t want to lose the trust you hadn’t really gained, just yet. You didn’t want to take that kind of chance, not when Kirishima wasn’t around to give you the benefit of the doubt.

So, you shut your eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to ignore the quiet sobbing in the background as you followed in his tracks.

Surprisingly, Kirishima was the first one to slip into your bed.

You told yourself it was a mistake, when he let himself into your room in the middle of the night, closer to sunrise than it was to sunset. None of the doors locked, thin plywood serving as more of a source of comfort than an actual barrier, and beyond your small collection of personal possessions and the bedside table you’d commandeered from storage, your room was identical to any of the eerily unoccupied barracks on the lower layers of the bunker. Still, you expected him to turn around, to see your sleeping form curled up in a corner of your cot and realize he had the wrong room. It was late, and he made a mistake. It didn’t have to be anything more.

But it wasn’t that late, and Kirishima never really made mistakes. He was too careful for anything like that.

At least he was being careful now, too, as far as you could tell with your eyes clenched shut, your breathing restricted to slow, shallow inhales that left your lungs feeling just a little too tight. He was gentle, if nothing else, wrapping a strong arm around your waist, pulling you against his chest and burying his face in the nape of your neck. You didn’t squirm, you didn’t push yourself away, but you must’ve been too stiff, too still, too rigid. He didn’t seem to buy the act, however desperate it was.

“’suki’s real proud of you.” His voice was tired, weighted down by exhaustion. Clearly, he wouldn’t be leaving. “He told me about yesterday. Says you were good, cooperative and all. He likes that kind of thing.”

You didn’t respond, digging your nails into the sterile, medical sheets. Your ankle throbbed, and you tried to focus on that, to justify it. To remember why you could still convince yourself to stay.

“He’s a big softie, though. We both are, but I don’t try to hide it.” There was a light squeeze to your side, the ghost of his lips over the crook of your neck. His breath was warm, compared to the bucker’s constant chill, and you tried to think of his smothering body heat as a small silver lining. “I think it’s sweet. Gets lonely ‘round here, y’know? You’re a good fit.” There was a pause, a chuckle. For a moment, you thought he might push a little further, hold you a tighter, but Kirishima only shook his head, going on with that same careless, tired lilt. “I knew you would be, when I first saw you. A fragile little thing like you could never survive out here, not all alone.”

He was half-asleep. He didn’t know what he was saying. He’d probably apologize tomorrow, if he even remembered. “I’m not going to stay for much longer. I’ll be on my own again, in another month.”

“We’ll see.” The cot’s barred frame creaked as he shifted, his weight coming to rest against your back – a constant, oppressive reminder of his presence. A memory flickered to life in the back of your mind, a familiar intimacy that’d been earned and asked for, but you pushed it away quickly. You didn’t want to think about things like that, not here, not when this was so one-sided, in comparison. “Get some rest. You haven’t been getting enough sleep, lately.”

You’d leave when it was safe to. When you healed. When you’d worn out your welcome and become more of a burden than a benefit.

You wouldn’t stick around long enough for things to get suffocating, this time.

It was a mutual decision, when Bakugo and Kirishima stopped you from leaving the bunker.

They didn’t ask. That was the part that stung, really, the thorn that started working itself under your skin the moment you caught them standing in the threshold, an empty duffle bag slung over Kirishima’s shoulder and a baseball bat tucked under his arm. Bakugo had his crossbow, a pistol you’d never seen before holstered at his hip, but that bothered you less than the way they were muttering, keeping their voices purposefully low. Like they knew how you’d feel, if you saw them. Like they wanted to avoid the tension.

You’d never been very good at picking up hints, though. Much less those you were desperately trying to ignore.

“You’re going out?” You called, approaching them before you could stop yourself, suppressing a yawn as you made a show of rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. It was early, and you didn’t want Kirishima to know you’d already been up for hours. If he thought you were tired, he’d assume you were losing sleep, and if he thought you were losing sleep, he’d take it as an excuse to visit you at night, again. You… you didn’t like it, when he did. “Let me grab my stuff, it’ll only take a minute. If I knew you two were planning a raid today, I would’ve—”

Bakugo was the first to shut you down. “Sit this one out, alright?” It was a question, this time, but barely, his usual bluntness wrapped in a layer of kindness so thin, you could practically see through it. “’s just a quick supply run. We’ll be out and back before you notice we’re gone.”

“We’ve done this a thousand times,” Kirishima added, offering a small smile. At least he was trying to be nice about it, in his own, patronizing way. “It’s starting to get boring, honestly. It‘d be a shame to ruin all the progress you’ve made for something so minor.”

Right, your ankle. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d complained about it, the last time you’d been in enough pain to limp, even if Bakugo still insisted on tending to your ‘injury’ once a day, at least. The truth was glaringly obvious, even if they still made a half-hearted attempt to hide it, to let you avert your eyes and pretend you believed them.

You didn’t bother trying to hide your disappointment, your expression dropping as your nails bit into the meat of your palm. “You don’t think I can keep myself safe.”

In their defense, neither tried to deny it. Bakugo only looked away, and Kirishima smiled apologetically, his hand already pushing against the bunker’s metallic door. “We don’t want to risk it,” He explained, like you were a liability. Like you hadn’t survived out there for months without their help, injured or uninjured. “If something happened to you, if someone got to you, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. We both care about you, even if Katsuki doesn’t want to admit it.”

“It’s practical.” Bakugo didn’t look at you. It was a small mercy, really. At least he was self-aware enough to be ashamed. “You need more time. You fucked yourself up bad before Eijiro found you – all that doesn’t go away overnight.”

Expect, it hadn’t been a night. It hadn’t been a day, or a week, and you were starting to question if it’d even been only two months. It was hard to keep track of time, but the weather was already turning, every scrape and bruise Bakugo could’ve concerned himself with was already healed, and you’d already let yourself get comfortable. You’d stayed too long. You’d let them get attached, and you’d failed to make it clear that you weren’t.

You had to get out. Now.

Or, you could try to get out, at least.

You’d waited too long for Bakugo and Kirishima to just sit back and let you walk away.

They were stronger than you’d assumed. It was easy to forget what the human body was capable of, when you were so used to be exhausted and half-starved, but it wasn’t difficult to remember, not with Bakugo’s hands wrapped around your wrists, one of Kirishima’s arms splayed over your knees, stopping you from thrashing as they shoved you against a bed, a real bed, the frame wooden and the mattress more than just sponge and stuffing. It was one of theirs obviously, and if you’d stumbled onto it at any other time, you might’ve felt insulted, left out.

Right now, the only thing you could feel was terrified.

“Fucking bitch.” It was a grunt, a growl, followed by something close to a snarl as your elbow connected with his check. He was the one who’s caught you gathering up what little you had to take with you, a canteen already filled and strung across your back. It was on the floor, now, the metal dented and the contents spilling out, but if either of them minded wasting clean water, you couldn’t tell. They were busy, now, too busy dealing with you to worry about something so minor. Too angry to care, leaving you as the center of their rage. “We tried to be nice. We tried to give you a choice. You just couldn’t take the fucking hint, could you?”

“Let me go.” You couldn’t bring yourself to raise your voice, but you tried to come across as frantic, desperate, as betrayed and as disgusted as you really felt. “You’re both fucking crazy. I don’t want to—”

Kirishima didn’t let you finish, he’d never really bothered to. He was already shifting, leaning on one of your calves while grabbing at the other, calloused fingertips pressing into your newly-healed ankle, the remaining bruises still raw and tender. You cried out, more out of instinct than agony, but Kirishima only grit his teeth, rubbing circles into your skin, like that would be enough to soothe you. “We’re just taking care of you, alright? We’re just doing what’s best.” It was pointless to say, but the didn’t stop him from going on, rambling like he was going to convince anyone, including himself. “It’s dangerous, out there. You just need a little more time to realize that. You just need to see that ‘suki and I are your best option.”

They weren’t. They weren’t your best anything, but you didn’t have a chance to retort before Bakugo cursed under his breath, gathering your wrists up with one hand and forcing the other over your mouth, cutting you off before you could protest further. “Just do it,” He spat, all-but ignoring you as he spoke to Kirishima. “There’s no point in trying to explain this to someone so irrational. Let’s just get it over with before we have to do something worse.”

For a moment, you went still, a series of worst-case scenarios flashing before your eyes before you could rationalize them, before you could tell yourself to stay calm. For a moment, there was panic – pure, unadulterated, brutal panic.

And then, something cracked under Kirishima’s hand, and you forgot how to think of anything at all.

You let out a stilted, faltering sob, something akin to liquid fire running from your thigh to your calf to the point where everything stopped – everything below your ankle numb, disconnected, dead meat that still managed to hurt. The rest of your body went limp, your survival instincts gone and replaced with the unbearable desire to curl into yourself and cry, but Bakugo was still holding you, his arms strung around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest as Kirishima slotted himself against your back, cooing soft nothings as you fought not to break down completely. They were talking again, both of them, but you couldn’t seem to listen. It didn’t matter.

Your ankle was broken. Not sprained, this time, not bruised, but broken. Shattered. Dislocated. Forced into a position that meant you’d be forced to stay, voluntarily or otherwise. Whether or not you could still stomach looking at Bakugo and Kirishima, let alone living with them.

You couldn’t leave, and you were beginning to think they were never going to let you.

1K notes · View notes

volleychumps · 4 years

Note

omg omg omg ive been waiting for open requests!! okay so, is it okay if i ask for a stuck in the locker scenario with iwa, tsuki, kuroo, and akaashi?? thank you sooo much! ur blog is one of the only ones i check daily cuz the content is just 💓💓💓💓

Getting Stuck in the Locker Room w/ Iwaizumi, Tsukishima, Kuroo, and Akaashi (slight tsundere! reader)

ahah for the sake of it let’s make them enemies who come out as friends (maybe more?)

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

Iwaizumi

“Oi. Lemme have a go at it.”

“Oh, my apologies! Allow me to make way for the manly man to come and magically unlock the door with his brute strength.” You quip sarcastically, Iwaizumi rolling his eyes as he takes your place in front of the door to tug at the handle, frowning when it doesn’t budge. He tilts his head, towel around his neck tilting with it.

“It won’t open.”

“Thank you, no really- you’re too helpful.”

You sigh, doing what you originally came here for as you slip Kindaichi’s knee pads into his locker, your cousin accidentally leaving them in his classroom before pleading with you to bring them. Your original plan of getting in and out had obviously been severely tarnished, leaving you with the one guy you-

“Ah. So that’s why you’re in here.”

You flinch at the sound of Iwaizumi’s deep voice sounding behind you, much closer than you expected before you turn, not being able to mask the scarlet that tinges your cheeks at Iwa’s exposed broad chest.

“Would it kill you to wear a shirt, perv?”

“Says the girl in the boy’s locker room.” Iwa takes another step towards you casually, a hand slipping into the sweats he had just changed to as you swallow tightly, looking away as your back touches the lockers. Iwaizumi’s face remains stoic, save for the slight arch of his eyebrow that signals his amusement.

“Who’s the real perv here?”

“Just put on a shirt and stop teasing me...please.” You mumble, embarassed as a small smirk overtakes Iwa’s lips as he opens up the door two lockers down from Kindaichi’s, pulling a white short-sleeve over his head that highlighted his arms quite nicely-

You shake your head of such thoughts before running a hand through your hair, sitting down on one of the nearby benches as an awkward silence fills the room.

“Can’t you call Oikawa or someone to come un-jam the door?”

“Nope. That shithead’s in practice with the rest of ‘em, and I left my bag in the gym.” Iwa replies shortly, taking a seat on the opposite end of the bench before opening his water bottle. “I was supposed to be excused today, but I ended up stuck here with my favorite person.”

“My luck is immense right now.” You retort with a sarcastic chuckle, eyes widening when Iwa scoots down the bench so his muscular thigh is just touching yours.

“Well, on the bright side: I have you cornered to ask why you don’t like me and avoid me like I’m some kind of sickness.” Iwa shrugs, offering you his water bottle before lowering it at your deadpan stare. You hesitate before sighing, allowing him an inch of the truth.

“I don’t not like you. You’re just mean- do you know how many times Kindaichi comes to me with tears in his eyes?”

“Hm.”

You huff, wanting to go hit on the door to catch someone’s attention before Iwa moves to crouch in front of you, causing your breath to hitch at the proximity and a involuntary heart beat to sound in your ears.

“I can be a lot meaner.”

“Stop joking around.”

“Am I joking?” You bite your lip when Iwa’s face nears even closer, his head tilting as you panic, grabbing the towel he had been drying his hair with and throwing it over his head. He frowns, wondering if he had actually made you uncomfortable with his little prank, before deciding to back off-

Iwaizumi scoffs, lifting the white material only for onyx eyes to widen at the sight of your flushed cheeks and furrowed brows, expression one of-

“Y/N-! oh. Oh crap-am I interrupting?”

The sound of Kindaichi’s voice had you pushing off the bench to race past your cousin and out the door, Iwaizumi still blinking at the spot where you had sat before he rises to his feet, lips twitching into a hint of an amused half-grin.

He ignores Kindaichi’s inquiries of what happened as he throws the towel over his shoulder, the sight of your flushed cheeks filling his mind as he huffs through his nose in disbelief at what he had discovered.

“Oi Kindaichi.”

“Y-Yes, senpai?”

“Give me your cousin’s number, will ya?”

Kuroo

“This is not happening-”

“Y/N-”

“Out of all people! It had to be you-”

“First of all, rude-”

“God, why couldn’t it have been Kenma? I’m going to kill Lev for making me come in here to get his shitty shoes-”

“Kitten-”

“Don’t kitten me!” You stop pulling on the door to turn on an amused Kuroo, who whistles lowly as he adjusts the towel around his waist. He runs a hand through his slightly damp hair as he opens one of the locker doors, turning his head to offer you a lazy grin as he does so, arm resting on top of the door.

“Relax. We’re not stuck in here, someone’s bound to come eventually.” He takes out a shirt and his school pants, glancing at you with a glint in his feral eyes. “And I’m gonna get dressed, so stop acting like the world is ending, sweetheart. You can watch if you-”

“Pass.” You turn to face the wall with heat in your cheeks, Kuroo’s chuckle annoying in your ears as you resist the urge to groan. You touch the wall with your forehead as a steady beat sounds in your chest, wondering why it had to be him.

“That wall isn’t the cleanest, babe.”

You flinch at the whisper that tickles your ear, Kuroo stepping back on instinct when you turn on him with that same smug look that you-

“Why do you hate me again? Just because Lev tells you I’m a little mean-”

“An absolute monster.” You correct, glaring at him as you put an arm out to distance yourself.

Kuroo’s grin only widens, hand reaching out to rest on the wall-space next to your head as he leans a little closer.

“Oh? And why does this pretty kitty believe him?”

“I...” You stand your ground, not breaking eye-contact as you pray he can’t see the heat tickling your cheeks and ears as your arm wavers. “I don’t. Stop flirting with me like all the others-”

“You think I pay attention to the other girls?” Kuroo’s eyebrows rise in amusement at your words as you blink in surprise, lips beginning to tremble.

“T-Then you’re trying to tell me I’m the only girl you pay attention to?”

“Would it be that big of a surprise?” Kuroo leans a little closer until his lips are by your ear, causing you to involuntarily shudder as your body betrays you. “It’s hard not to, you know?”

“Shut up.” You find strength in your legs and voice again as you shove him lightly, Kuroo merely catching one of your wrists as he grins at the fact that you seemed to be responding to his advances well. The blush on your cheeks only making him continue as his hazel eyes brim with seriousness.

“Kitten, do I have to spell it out for you?” Kuroo’s grip on your wrist tightens ever so slightly as the clean scent of him fills your nose, hazel eyes glinting as he takes in your now embarrassed expression from mere inches away.

“You’re always the prettiest one in the room.”

Your arm falls to your side completely as Kuroo takes the opportunity to rest a hand on your waist, his other hand going to cup your jaw as his breath ghosts over your lips-

“Y/N I CAME TO RESCUE YOU-!”

Lev stumbles through the jammed door dramatically, and you shove Kuroo away as you glare at the captain heatedly, gritting your teeth at the fact that you almost fell for it.

“Please don’t mess with my head, Tetsurou.”

Kuroo’s calls for you to come back fall on deaf ears as Lev looks between his captain and your retreating figure in wonderment, wondering what the hell was going on before a sinister-sounding chuckle fills the damp locker room.

“S-stop bullying my little cousin-!”

“Lev.” Kuroo turns his head as a shiver runs down his junior’s spine, Kuroo running a hand through his hair in an agitated manner as all teasing tendencies from before washed away. “Go. Make sure she gets home okay.”

The captain sighs as his own forehead touches the wall where yours had, a soft disbelieving scoff slipping his lips as the sound of Lev’s steps fade down the hall.

“I wasn’t messing with your pretty little head, Y/N.”

Tsukishima

“I feel like you did this on purpose.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” You bite back as Tsukishima scoffs from behind you, and you turn slightly to cast a slight glare to the laid back blonde as Tsukishima scratches the back of his neck boredly. “Would it kill you to help me?”

“It’s locked. What can we do? You’re wasting strength.”

“Right, we have to use my upper body strength because I forgot you don’t have any.” You smile sweetly before breaking into a yawn, Tsukishima narrowing his eyes at you before pushing you slightly to the side.

“Move. I’ll be the one to open this damn door.”

“For someone who seems really calm you get riled up really easily.” You grin through slightly teary eyes from your yawn as Tsukishima makes the smallest effort at tugging the handle before turning to you.

“We’re stuck.”

“Oh are we?”

Tsukishima rolls his eyes as you take a comfortable seat against the lockers, sitting on the floor before groaning. “I can’t believe neither of us have our phones.”

“You’re a teenage girl, why are you without it?”

“Very good observation, Tsukki!”

“Don’t call me-”

“Anyways, Tsukki.” You cut him off, mock-cheeriness filling your voice as you bring your knees to your chest. “I came here to drop off Kageyama’s books for his homework tonight, so I left my phone in my classroom.”

“Funny way of saying you wanted to see me shower. That floor’s disgusting, by the way.”

“Bite me.” You yawn again, causing the blonde to lean against the jammed door while glancing at you, rubbing his fogged eyeglasses with the bottom of his practice shirt.

“Why do you look like you’re about to pass out?”

“Stop pretending to act like you’re interested.” You mumble, leaning your head on your crossed arms that rested on your knees. “But if you must know, I had exams today and ran soley on caffeine to get through them. I think the crash is hitting me.”

“Don’t die on our locker room floor, that’d be a pain to clean up.”

“Awe, your concern for me is the sweetest.” You quip, fighting the urge to close your eyes. “Just wake me when someone comes, will you?”

Tsukishima says nothing as he sees you beginning to nod off, cursing when you almost fall too far forward, his legs jutting out to cover your forehead and keep you steady when you’re fast asleep.

“Troublesome woman.” The blonde’s eyes narrow as he takes a seat next to you, carefully setting your head down on his shoulder as he rolls his eyes at the obvious heartbeat in his ears.

“Why did it have be you, anyways?” He whispers, brushing some hair out of your face before leaning his head back against the locker. Had it been anybody else, he would have been on the other side of the locker room, maybe even waiting it out in the showers-

so why did it have to be you?

“Tsukki.” You shift in your sleep, still halfway out of it as he merely hums in response, still acting disinterested until you cuddle your cheek into his shoulder, causing the blonde to tense up at the contact.

“You’re not a total bastard.”

Tsukishima can’t help the small smirk that overtakes his lips as he finds himself forgetting that every day seemed to be a challenge of who would confess first, praying that your even breaths signalled you were asleep again as he allows a ghost of a smile to grace his lips.

His hand slips into his sweats pocket as he wonders if he should feel guilty, taking his phone out as the screen lights up.

“And I suppose you’re not the worst choice of girl to like.”

Akaashi

“You’ve been at it for fifteen minutes.”

“Okay first of all- you’re creepy for keeping track.” You respond to the setter as Akaashi continues to absent-mindedly dry his hair with a towel, watching evenly as you finally give up before leaning your back against the jammed door.

“I’m sorry you’re stuck in here with someone you don’t like.” Akaashi mentions as he sets the damp towel down, frowning as he keeps a safe distance away from you. You bite your lip, guilt flooding your system as you mentally curse at how things turned out: Akaashi Keiji assuming you hated him and you having to go along with it to save face.

“I-It’s not just that.” You mumble, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I don’t do well in confined spaces.”

“Is...is there anything I can do?”

“As if you could help.” You laugh a little sarcastically, chest panging when Akaashi backs down quietly, and you mentally wish that you hadn’t taken Konoha’s request of coming into the boy’s locker room to grab his forgotten gym bag.

“I don’t hate you.” The words rush out before you can stop them, and you curse that you weren’t able to handle Akaashi’s dejected expression.

But you feared if he knew the real reason-

“Then...why do you always leave the room when I enter it?” Akaashi stands, and you gulp when he begins to approach you. “I respect your space, but how come you told Bokuto that you can’t stand being around me?”

“Why do you care?” You manage to laugh. “I’m a nobody to you, Akaashi.”

Before the setter could respond, you begin to have trouble controlling your breathing, Akaashi just managing to catch you before you could collapse as blue-green eyes widen when you stumble to regain your balance.

“I-I’m fine-!”

“You’re not.” Akaashi scolds, carefully setting you down on the floor gently as you take deep breaths in through the nose and exhaling through the mouth. “What can I do-?”

“Stop! Just quit being so damn nice all the time!” The words burst out before you can realize them, putting some distance between the two of you as the confinement of the locker room makes you laugh a little hysterically.

“You make me have all these damn feelings for you when you’re just nice to everyone. That’s just who you are.” Your eyes brim with unshed tears. “That’s why I can’t be your friend, Akaashi! Not when I’m in-”

“Sh.” Akaashi tugs on your wrist as your eyes widen when he pulls you into his chest. The dark-haired boy digs his face into your neck, holding you tightly as the confinement of the room suddenly begins to fade away, the tightness in your chest relieving to allow a new emotion to take place.

“You were never a nobody to me, Y/N. When you stopped being my friend I wondered for days why you would just suddenly hate me...”

His hold tightened as a few tears slip your widened eyes, his voice falling to a hush in your neck.

“I’m sorry I never noticed. I’m sorry, so just be with me from now on, okay?”

“I-I already told you-”

“Not as my friend.” Akaashi cuts you off, thumb wiping at your eyes kindly as he pulls back gently to brush your nose with his. “Be with me as someone more than that.”

Akaashi smiles softly as your breathing evens out, tugging you into his chest even more as you smile as a new kind of tear runs down your cheek.

“I missed you, Keiji.”

Unbeknowst to the two of you, Konoha and Bokuto touch knuckles from just outside the door, Konoha trying to be silent as possible as he twists the key to unlock the lock.

“I told you we should meddle!”

“Akaashi would absolutely kill us if he found out, Bokuto-”

The two stiffen as said setter flings the door open with your giggling form behind his back, darkness cascading the setter’s face as Bokuto chukcles nervously, Konoha whistling as he looks off to the side while throwing the key a good distance away.

“Funny seeing you here, Akaashi!”

“Whaaaat Y/N, what are you doing in there-”

“I hate both of you.”

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

General works: @takemetovalhalla @kasandrafaye @dreebbles @savemesteeb @yams046

4K notes · View notes

ventji · 3 years

Text

pov: random girl hitting on ur mans so u needa teel em to back off <3

tw: kn1fe, cussing (?), neck snapping (?)

ft: kaeya, diluc, zhongli, & venti :)

kaeya

kaeya can't really control something,, and it's how freaking hot he is.

however, as much as you enjoyed the hooker boy, all of monstadts women (married or not) would hit on him.

it pisses you off, a fucking lot. even though he would turn them down because he was already dating you,, they would not,, i mean NOT,, leave the cavalry captain alone.

and everyday,, at some point,, some random monstadt woman would walk up to you and ask if kaeya was with you.

and man, you have never,, and i mean NEVER,, have wanted to slap a bitch to barbatos.

kaeya would feel bad about it, he'd apologize profusely (as if it would do anything),, but you'd end it almost immedietly with a 'it's fine'

but there was this one woman,, who always came up to kaeya with this big, fat, unattractive uwu voice. that was also the exact same day that you finally had enough of their bs.

"excuse me" you poked her shoulder as she unattractivally flirted with your boyfriend.

"what do- oh, it's you." she'd say, giving a disgusted glare at you as kaeya just stared from behind.

"yeah, hi, it's me." you replied sarcastically. "mind backing off of my boyfriend? i'd really appreciate it!" you stated, knowing it wouldn't work.

"and why sh-"

"or i'll shove this knife into your throat!~" you stated, pulling your pocket knife out.

she ran away as kaeya chuckled giving you a big hug

diluc

even though the two step-brothers look nothing alike,, apparently the name 'kaeya' is so much more easier to remember.

people would go up to aether/lumine and just ask "where's the long haired red bartender from the tavern?" as if he doesn't have a name.

to be honest, you've had the urge to scream "his name is diluc for fucks sake" in front on monstadt, but you sadly,, never got the chance.

why?

because diluc always readsured you it was fine.

but you knew, he hated it.

just from the look on his face when people called him the "red-haired bartender",, he was really hurt.

even though monstadt is a pretty small place, people still didn't know his name, and it angered you.

what pissed you off the most was people hitting on him while you were standing right beside him while holding his hand.

"oh diluc you're so tall and handsome!!" this random girl stated, clinging onto him.

'for once someone remembered his name...' you thought.

"mm." he replied, displaying that he's uninterested since you were holding his hand.

"oh! and who are you?"

'please end me-'

"they're my-"

"oh, a friend!" the girl interuppted.

'tHIS BI-'

"i swear to fUCKING BARBATOS-" diluc stared at you with wide eyes, already enjoying the drama unraveling.

"IF YOUR HILICHURL LOOKING ASS WON'T STOP FLIRTING WITH MY BOYFRIEND I WON'T HAVE A PROBLEM WITH GETTING ALBEDO TO MAKE A POTION THAT WILL DESTROY, AND I MEAN FUCKING DESTROY,, YOUR VOCAL C- oh she's gone?"

diluc was really proud <3

zhongli

okok this homeless bitch forgets mora is a thing,, especially when you're with him.

he'll make you buy something but oh boy,, when his fans are there it feels great to not spend your mora on him.

but the girls that swoon over him are a WHOLE different story.

their flirty looks, dress to impress, high pitched voice, and their too polite.

you can't count how many times a girl has told you to back off even though your his s/o.

but it was fun seeing zhongli suffer,, because you knew you were his <3

but oH bOy,, there was this girl who just made you want to murder her.

"a knife." you mumbled as zhongli chuckled at you.

"[name] don't touch it." he warned, giving you an aggressive look.

"why do you need to tell them what to do and what not to do?? oh that's right,, they're a dog!" the girl laughed, zhongli was absolutely pissed and you were ready to snap her neck.

"suddenly [name] you can take that knife."

"i'VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE!" you shouted as you grabbed the knife from it's holder.

you grabbed her buy the neck and placed the knife on her throat as she quivered in her spot.

"one, two, th-"

"[name]."

"but babe.. i wasn't going to hurt her.."

"yet.." zhongli stared at you,, sugesting you put the knife down.

"fine, fine. but you owe me." and with that he nodded as the girl ran away.

venti

the sneaky fuckass was well known with his words,, and it's not okay.

venti could either slide in small sarcastic teasing flirts or on demand drunk flirtting 24/7.

and he always, and i mean ALWAYS flirts with other girls, but the two of you know it's a joke because barbatos himself knows he'll drag you into an alleyway for a lil' makeout shesh and shower you with some lovely words.

his love songs also described you,, a little too much. but i mean, it was really freaking cute.

as much as his fans loved him, he spent about 30 minutes after hos preformance with him, and if it felt like forever for you,, then you'd end up stealing him from you. but there was this one time this girl would not let go of him.

"venti!!~" you whined as you ran up to him, engulfing the bard in a hug.

"hi [name]!" venti grinned back along with serving a hug.

"aether told me to come and get you since he needed something, if that's alright that is."

"oh it-"

"i'm seriously tired of this bullshit already, who are you and why do you take him away every so often?! seriously, the world doesn't revolve around you!" a blonde girl shouted as an irk mark appeared on you and venti.

"oh, is it my fault the honorary knight of monstadt need the bard? i'm sorry for aether needing him." you replied sarcastically, the girl getting more fed up.

"yes, in fact it is your fault! you take him away because of your fucking jealousy that we get to spend more time with him than you do! i've seen you sitting from a far watching all of us talk to him! bitch." she answered, walking up to you as she then slapped you.

"hey, cut it out! seriously what the heck!" venti glared at her, as he turned to face you. "[name] are you okay???" he questioned, grabbing the cheek the random girl slapped gently.

"rest assured that i'm fine, it's best you get aether and paimon incase things begin to escalate." you smiled as he nodded in response, making his way to the knights headquarters.

"pfft, you can't even fight can you? well i sure can! so test me!" she grinned preparing to throw punches.

"mhm, ok yeah sure." you laughed, letting her take the first hit, as she stood there absolutely confused.

"what are you waiting for?! hit m-"

"no."

"i'm sorry what?"

"i said no, are you fucking deaf?"

the girl fumed as she began to swing, that was her first mistake. reluctantly, you doged her punch. pulling out your weapon, you stared at her.

"should i, or should i not stab you right here?"

"[name] are you alright?!" venti and aether shouted as they bith dashed towards you.

"ah, i'm fine!" you replied, grabbing venti's hat as you pht it onto yours.

"i suggest you leave before i snap your neck." you told the blonde as she stumbled in shock, running away from your dark aura.

"you're amazing." venti laughed.

#genshin imagines #genshin hcs #genshin headcanons #genshin impact #genshin diluc #genshin kaeya #genshin aether #genshin paimon #genshin x reader #genshin zhongli #genshin venti #venti x reader #kaeya x reader #diluc x reader #zhongli x reader #venti headcanons #genshin pov

363 notes · View notes

pascalpanic · 3 years

Text

Just One Mission (Agent Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x Champagne’s Daughter!Reader)

Inspo: I Like It, I Love It by Tim McGraw

Summary: Your father, Champ, runs Statesman, and you’re his best- and only- female agent. Your normal partner, Tequila, is out, leaving you with another agent. Normally this would be fine, but it’s with Whiskey, who practically ignores you, despite the fact that you’re crushing hard on him. You’re sent to the county fair to track an undercover bad guy under the guise of being a couple for your latest mission, and it starts to feel more and more like something is happening, not just between your fictional couple.

WC: 5.1k

Warnings: language, obvious mentions of alcohol (this is Statesman after all)

A/N: Can I get a yeehaw for our favorite cowboy? Biggest of thank yous to @remmysbounty for helping me name this!

“You can’t be serious. Why can’t anything ever be straightforward around here? Why do I always have to go play make-believe?” You asked, pushing your glasses back up your nose to clarify his hologram. You move from where you stand, against the window showing the New York skyline, to walk towards the meeting table.

Champ gives a chuckle, as if he knows everything. Of course he does. He’s your boss and he never fails to make that known. “You came into this job knowing you’d be doing undercover work, Amaretto,” Champ says with a pointed look. You bite down on your lip to avoid cussing and look down to avoid his eyes. “Plus, you’re our best. And our only lady.”

“Whose fault is that?” you grumble, crossing your arms. Normally it doesn’t bother you much, but today you wished more women worked in the field. “Why can’t I go with Tequila? Him and I work well together, you know that,” you ask, hating your voice and your tone. You sound like a whiny teen complaining to her dad. Honestly, it was close enough, and maybe even worse: you were a fully grown woman complaining to her dad.

Your father, Champ, sighs and removes his hat. “For God’s sake, ‘Retto. Tequila’s mission has been extended. I’m sorry to tell you that Agent Whiskey will be your partner for just one mission, for one night.”

“Dad, I-”

“That’s Champ when you’re in here, Amaretto,” he chides, which makes you groan and plop down on an office chair, kicking your legs up onto the table and crossing them. “It’s a small mission. You can handle it. Whiskey’ll treat you right.”

As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you knew you could handle it. You would be more than fine pretending to be Whiskey’s sweetheart for the evening. It was what came after that you didn’t want. You had known Jack for a while now, and had been hiding a crush ever since the man first entered your life.

You had been a Statesman ever since your father revealed to you that he wasn’t just the head of the Kentucky distillery- he was the head of a spy organization under the same name. Your career here hadn’t been long, but you were already proving that the skills must run in the family. You were the first female field agent, had a perfect mission record, and no unnecessary kills or injuries. That impressed Jack as much as the rest of the facility, maybe even more. You were a stunning and sharp woman with brains to match.

As much as Whiskey wanted to flirt with you, to tell you just what he thought of you, he held back. Your father held his job by a string. In order to hold back everything he thought, he kept a distance. You were the only woman in the company Whiskey didn’t flirt with. “He hates me,” you say sharply to your father, telling him what you really thought Whiskey’s opinion of you was. He complimented every woman around him, but he actively avoided you. When you had talked in the past, it was brief and he had always found an excuse to leave. How else could you take that?

“Prob’ly just jitters around the boss’s girl,” your father drawls, and you want to scream and shout and throw a temper tantrum. “Besides, you both have roles. Neither of you have to be yourself.”

Stopping you before you can launch into a rant, a knock comes at the meeting room door. You look and- speak of the devil- Whiskey peeks his head in, finding you alone in the meeting room. “Sorry. Heard ya talking, you in a meeting?”

Your father laughs as he hears the man’s voice. “Tell him to put on the glasses,” he tells you, only audible through your earpiece. You relay the message to him and once Jack’s glasses are on, he straightens a little, addressing your father. “Good to see you, Whiskey. Just telling Amaretto about the mission,” Champ tells him, and you roll your eyes.

“Right, that mission. Next week?” He asks, clarifying, eyes darting to you briefly before finding your father again.

“You got it.” A knock comes at the meeting room in Kentucky, and your father turns for a moment, then back to the two of you. “Ginger’s callin’. Talk to you later, darlin’, and you too, Whiskey.” He takes off his glasses and the image of him disappears.

You remove your legs from the table, swiveling your chair and removing your glasses. “How exciting, huh?” You ask dryly, eyes finding Whiskey’s. “The hottest week of the summer and he’s sending us to Alabama to spend a night outside.”

Jack chuckles a little, your sarcasm penetrating through the shield he has up specifically to deflect you. “At the county fair, no less. Couldn’t these idiots set up shop in a refrigerated warehouse?” He sighs, adjusting his hat.

Tearing your eyes from him, you look out of the impressive window instead. “Sure to be a fun time,” you shake your head. He looks so handsome, and it makes you want to punch something. “Why my father loves to put me in these situations, I’ll never know. He’d never do this to Julep,” you lament. “I must be the expendable kid.”

“Julep is 17,” Whiskey reminds you, raising a brow. “You’re the only one of age, and you’re probably the only competent one too. He showed me a video of Rosé at the gun range and good Lord, how the hell did a man like that birth something so clumsy?”

“Why do you know so much about my sisters?” You ask him, tilting your head.

“Your father never shuts up about ‘em. He shows them off constantly,” he shrugs. “Shows us videos, pictures. Even knew plenty about you before you came.” You raise an eyebrow at that, and he shakes his head quickly. “Barely anything personal. Hell, I don’t know your real name. He’s never called you or your sisters anything but your nicknames.”

You stand, gathering the folder you brought into the room with you. “Well, that’s a comfort. I’m not Champ’s daughter, I’m Agent Amaretto, and that’s the way I’d like to keep it,” you say, your voice slipping away from sharp and into flirtation. Whiskey’s deadpan slips into a smile and you press the folder into his chest as you walk past him, and out of the room. The smile grows wider as he turns to follow you.

Whiskey was right. It’s the hottest week of the summer, the August heat making you feel sticky and swollen, and you’re in Alabama. Disgusting. You look in the mirror and groan as you look at yourself. You were told that you and Jack need to blend into the atmosphere of the county fair, and you sighed.

The past week, the two of you had prepped for your mission, slowly melting the thick layer of ice that subdued both your crush and his flirtation. He had slowly slipped into his regular self around you, which you didn’t notice. You didn’t know the real him. You had become more of yourself too; less sharp, more smiles, even a few laughs at his terrible southern euphemisms and adages. He finally called you darlin’ and sugar and sweet thing, and you felt your face warm more than it should. You let your walls down by the time you got on the plane, joking around with him and making actual conversation. During the flight, the two of you had enjoyed picking cover names, deciding on Beau and Jolene Pruitt, a newly married couple. Both were native Alabamians with thick drawls, not that it would be out of character for Jack.

Getting to wear casual clothing around that man excited you far more than it should, and you had spent a stupid amount of time picking out something that would fit in but also look nice. The wardrobe women had packed you plenty of options to mix and match from, and you settled on something that seemed to be a mix between your cover and yourself. You wore short denim cutoffs, ripped and distressed, with cowboy boots to match. You also wore a white tank top and a red, white, and blue flannel, either to be worn open or tied around your waist. A large gold cross pendant rested on your cleavage, as many women around here similarly had. It was imperative that neither you nor Whiskey could be recognized, and you had been given a wig of thick hair the opposite of your natural color, plaited into two French braids that were long and ended around your waist. No mission was complete without your gold, wire-rimmed Statesman glasses.

You have to admit, you enjoy this look, minus the gaudy jewelry. You get to show off a little bit more than you normally would, and you secretly hope Whiskey may up his flirtation with you. You’re recognizable to someone who would know you, but the change of hair color and the glasses are a solid cover-up. You snap a picture in the mirror, sending it off to the ladies in the wardrobe department. you ladies spoil me- I love getting to look cute for a change!

The women reply a moment later with a picture of all of them. You’re always cute, sugar! Show that man what he’s missing!

So, maybe you had confided to the wardrobe ladies that you found Jack attractive. Who didn’t? They agreed, but all showered you with attention and insisted you should make a move on this mission. You had said no, but they had hounded you over and over until you told them yes. It was a lie, but they didn’t need to know that.

A knock comes at your hotel door, and you smile before you can stop yourself. You force yourself to drop it, tossing one of the braided tails over your shoulder, and open the door. “Well there, Beau,” you drawl as you see Whiskey, but you stop and laugh a little as you scan his body.

His reaction is the exact same, after a brief scan of your outfit. You both break into laughter. Jack is wearing cowboy boots, jeans, a white t-shirt, and a flannel with a different pattern but the same colors- red, white, and blue. “Stealing my thunder with the outfit, I see. Are you going to put your costume on or what?” You ask teasingly, and he shakes his head.

“Believe it or not, Jolene, this is my costume. Seems the only different thing about being Beau is my name.” He grins wide at you, adjusting his similarly gold-rimmed aviators that rest beneath his classic Stetson.

You shake your head but smile. “Why am I not surprised?” You tease, turning and grabbing your phone and the large bulletproof purse you’d be carrying tonight. “The ladies in the wardrobe department are going to love this,” you chuckle, and then freeze for a second.

They did this on purpose.

Whiskey has the same thought as you. He had confided in the ladies in the wardrobe department that he found you absolutely stunning but unattainable, due to the fact that your father was the control of his… everything. They had chattered excitedly, telling him that he should make his move on the mission too. He had done the exact same as you- said yes, but as an appeasement. “Well, they sure are. We’ll have to get someone to take a picture of us while we’re there.”

You nod, your heart skipping a beat at the fact that he wants a photo of this. It’s just for the mission, of course, you tell yourself and brush it off. “Oh, and that’ll be perfect cover. Of course these two would want a photo taken of them. We can do it right in front of the marks- better yet, we can ask them to take the picture,” you chuckle happily and sling the heavy purse over your body.

“Or we can take a picture now,” he chuckles, nodding to the mirror you just took a picture in a moment ago.

“Sure,” you nod and lead him over to it. “Uh… smile?” You laugh and hold out your flannel for the photo. Jack makes finger guns and gives the camera a seductive face in the mirror, making you laugh. “Jesus, I thought you were the smooth agent.”

“Smoother than you. You’re smooth like a gravel road in a dry spell, look at that pose,” he says and zooms in on the picture. “Pose like you have some confidence in that pretty little head, honey,” he teases. “Copy me.” He makes the same pose, and you mimic it, taking a picture before bursting out laughing. “Much better,” he nods as he looks at the image. “Better send me that,” he nudges your side before walking to the door. “Well, Jo, let’s get this show on the road.” Smiling at the picture, you send the image to the wardrobe ladies. very subtle, Charlotte! You fire off before pocketing your phone and following him along. “Aw, Jo and Beau,” you coo, your personas snapping into place as soon as you leave the hotel room, clutching his arm.

The two of you meander down through the hotel, finding your way to the parking lot. You break away from him to sit in the Bronco (of course he brought it) but you find yourself missing the contact of your arms intertwined. It’s probably for the best though, you think to yourself. If you have to keep touching him all night, it’s quite possible the Alabama heat may melt whatever’s left of the iceberg you’ve built to hold back your crush on him.

A man bumps into you, and Whiskey is at your defense before you can defend yourself. “Watch it, cowboy,” Jack fires back, his hand resting on the small of your back. You smile up at him, practically making heart eyes. It looks in character, and you’re glad for that, but it’s entirely you.

“My hero,” you giggle and place your hand on his chest.

“Just for you, sugar,” he says sweetly and you beam up at him. He looks around, as you do, but the two of you rest there. It’s hot, unbearably, but yet you enjoy the contact your body makes with his. Both of you wear your flannels around your waist, allowing your grip on his arm to hold his strong muscles directly. It’s definitely enjoyable. “You hungry, honey?” He asks.

You have to admit, you haven’t eaten much today, mainly out of nerves for the mission. But everything is going just swimmingly: you have eyes on the target, have a plan to infiltrate them later, and are now just biding time to seem normal. “I… yeah, I am,” you nod and look up at him. “How ‘bout some cotton candy?”

“Now, darlin’, if you’re hungry, that ain’t gonna do the trick,” he says and raises an eyebrow, removing his aviators and hooking them on his collar. “This is the county fair, for cryin’ out loud. Let’s get you something deep fried.” You nod in agreement and the two of you wander over to a stand selling various deep-fried atrocities. You smile and chuckle, letting him order for the two of you. The vendor hands you each a ridiculously large corn dog, and you laugh.

The smell of the food makes your stomach growl. “Oh god, I didn’t realize just how hungry I was,” you moan as you bite into the food, your thick accent dropping. “Good choice, babe,” you tell him, smiling at how easily it comes.

“I know you, sugar,” he teases, leading you to a picnic table where he sits across from you, munching on his own. No one else is around here, allowing you to speak freely. “Really, I do. I found out your real name the other day,” he says with a smile, and you nearly choke on the breading, halfway down your throat. He finally says your name aloud, drawing it out, making it sound like it’s coated in honey and dripping with flirtation.

You look down at your food, biting your lip. “Who told you that?” you ask, still staring down.

Jack chuckles at that, ignoring the question. “Beautiful name for a beautiful lady,” he teases, and you chuckle, shaking your head. The flirtation is much better than the stone-cold silence before a week ago, but it doesn’t do anything for the growing crush you have on the man. “Champ must’ve known you’d be a stunner.”

“Have you heard of nominative determinism?” you ask as you look up, tilting your head and twirling one of the long braids of your wig around your finger. The words sound funny with the thick accent you’re putting on. Whiskey shakes his head. “It’s this theory that your name shapes who you become. So, if you said that my name was chosen for beauty, I would grow to become my name, so I’d be beautiful.” He nods a little at that. “Do you believe in that kind of thing?” you ask him genuinely, tilting your head and taking another bite of the corn dog.

“Clearly,” he chuckles through a mouthful of food before swallowing it. “Your name is pretty, you’re pretty. Someone has a name with a bad reputation, they become it.”

“Your mama named you Jack Daniels, you become Agent Whiskey,” you tease with a growing smile, accentuating that drawl that you’ve perfectly picked up from your father and the mustached man in front of you. “I’ve thought about that a lot with you. Did they assign you that name because of your name? My dad never talked about work with us before I became an agent.”

Whiskey shakes his head at you but does give a laugh. “Prob’ly, just thought it’d be funny, I ‘spose. They needed a new Agent Whiskey anyway, I believe. Last one died or retired, they never told me. Filling the vacancy while making a pun out of it. Your father has a sense of humor, doesn’t he? ‘S sure great at givin’ nicknames.”

You shake your head at that. “Don’t I know it. He’s been calling me Amaretto since I could give him sass back. Told me I was a little bitter, just like the word means in Italian. Julep’s too sweet, Rosé is a mix of gentle and bold. No one calls us by our real names unless we’re in trouble,” you chuckle. “You should hear my mama shout when Julep gets in trouble. She nearly shakes the house, and Julep likes to avoid it by pretending she can’t hear her. She’ll hide in her room, and my mama just shouts and shouts until the neighbors come over to make sure the family’s all still alive. It’s in a loving way, of course, nothing bad.” You shake your head, clearing the topic from yourself. “But it’s like your mama knew you’d get into something with alcohol. That’s odd.”

Jack chuckles and takes the last bite of his food. He doesn’t respond, just cleans up his little area and waits for you to be done, watching you with his chin resting in his palm. You smile as you notice that, looking away, and he does too. The two of you stand and walk along again. He offers his hand, to hold it, and you take it. You’re not entirely sure that he did that as Beau, and you’re certain you didn’t take his hand as Jolene.

Walking through the midway, you catch your mark out of the corner of your eye. “Go time,” you murmur to the man, dropping his hand. “Sir,” you ask and pat the man’s shoulder as he walks past. He stops and you shoot him a cheesy, massive grin. “Hi there, would you mind takin’ a picture for my husband and I?”

The man nods. “Sure, ma’am. Where do you-”

“Oh wonderful. Here,” you say and position the man, handing him your phone, then move back to stand by Jack. “Beau, honey, here,” you say as you position the two of you for the camera. You wrap his arm around your waist and place your hand on his chest, grinning ear to ear. He’s doing the same.

“How ‘bout this?” he asks, swooping you up and holding you bridal style.

You squeal into his ear, laughing. You almost call him by his real name but stop yourself. “Beau, quit!” You giggle and smack his chest teasingly, playing along with it and smiling for the photo. He lets you down only to pick you up again, hoisting you onto his back, piggyback style. Finding no other choice, you wrap your arms and legs around him, and he rests his hands on your thighs to hold you up. “Beau Pruitt!” You exclaim, emphasizing the words, hoping that the man taking your photos registers the name, knowing it’s not someone threatening. He’d probably take your phone and run if he heard you call the man holding you up by his real name.

He finally lets you down and you thank the man, taking the phone back and continuing to walk along, naturally lacing your fingers through Jack’s. “What was that?” you ask lowly, smiling despite the pretend annoyance in your voice.

“Playin’ the part, sugar,” he shrugs and smiles at you. As you wander through the midway, Jack’s eye catches on a brightly colored, massive teddy bear hanging from the rafters. When Jack gets a plan, he goes all in. “You know what, honey, if this is to be a proper date, I am gonna win you a teddy bear,” he chuckles, grabbing his wallet.

You quickly push the hand holding his wallet down. “Don’t be ridiculous, babe. I don’t need a teddy bear,” you laugh.

“I am takin’ you on a date to the county fair. It’s only fitting that I win you a teddy bear!” He argues back, laughing. He hands a bill to the attendant, earning him quite a few balls to toss at the stacked milk jugs. “Here we go. This is for the big, tie-dye one up there,” he declares before hurling a ball.

It hits the top jug and Jack winces. “Ah fuck. Bad shoulder,” he chuckles, picking up another.

“Then why the hell are you doing this, Beau?” you ask, catching yourself before you can call him Jack and holding down his arm. “I don’t need the teddy bear!”

“I already paid the attendant,” he chuckles and leans in to your face, taunting you. He uses your distraction to slip his arm from your grasp, throwing it and hitting the second row of bottles. “Hell yeah!” Jack crows excitedly, arms in the air. You laugh at his excitement and decide to let it happen. He throws three more balls before he knocks down the whole final row, whooping excitedly. “That one, if you please,” he tells the attendant and points to the large bear hanging from the ceiling of the booth. The attendant takes it down and hands it to him, and he promptly hands it to you, beaming. “For you, my dear,” he says, pride radiating from him.

“I love it,” you laugh and hug the massive bear to your chest, kissing its forehead. “I think I’ll name him… Whiskey.” He grins at that and takes your hand again, leading you through the crowd.

The rest of the night passes more like a date would than a mission. You and Jack converse happily, simply avoiding real names but talking like you would between friends. His hand rests in yours the whole night, and you enjoy it. The sun begins to go down and the humidity lessens, as does the stifling heat. It’s almost cool now; the both of you wear your flannels properly now, unbuttoned in the front. You munch contently on some cotton candy you finally convinced Jack to buy, even feeding him some to further your ruse. Sighing, you look around and take in the absolute perfection that is this tiny county fair. The sunset is beautiful and the lights of the carnival section are starting to come on. You start to speak until you hear a too-familiar voice through your earpiece.

“Amaretto, Whiskey. They set up shop in the pig barn, but they’re at their most vulnerable. Time to move.” You both groan as you hear your father’s voice. You look down at your interlocked hands between the two of you, then up quickly, remembering. Your father can see what you see with these glasses on. His voice comes in through your earpiece alone now. “See, I told ya it wouldn’t be so bad to spend a little time with Whiskey. I’ve noticed you’re not hating it.”

You shake your head and pull out your earpiece, tucking it in your pocket and murmuring a curse to your father. Jack notices and you simply shrug. “Wasn’t working right. You’re gonna have to relay the messages for me.”

He nods then pauses, listening. He chuckles and turns to you. “He says to put it back in, he knows you can hear him just fine.” You groan and put it back in with a frown. “Next time you want to have family dinner, count on one less plate,” you hiss through the piece, making both Jack and your father laugh. “Whatever, get us to the pig barn then.” Your father guides the two of you through your mission. They’re indeed at their weakest, just four men loading their van with their backs to you. Luckily, they’re the four that Statesman wants. You and Whiskey each easily take out two, leaving them tranquilized on the ground. “Pops, they’re good. Send in the recon van.” A few moments later, the van rushes in through the utility door, and two recon members load the men into the van. You and Whiskey give them a nod, smiling at them and thanking them before leaving the barn.

The voice comes through on just your earpiece again. “Take the rest of the night off. I know you want to.”

He’s right, you do want to, and so for once, you listen to your damn father. “The rest of the night is up to us,” you say as you turn to Whiskey, removing your earpiece and your glasses and putting them in your bag. You reach for his earpiece, taking it out too, both of you almost shivering at the contact of your wrist to his cheek as you take it out. Jack catches your palm and plants a kiss to it and you grin. “Would you like to stick around, maybe go on some rides?” you ask and put away his earpiece before sliding your hand into his. “As Whiskey and Amaretto?”

Jack grins at you. “I thought you’d never ask.”

The rest of the evening is spent on rides and eating ice cream, getting squished into Jack’s side on the Scrambler and flipped around on the Slingshot. You both laugh practically all night, overjoyed. You check your watch and look up excitedly, eyes lighting. “The fireworks are gonna go off in ten minutes.” You look at the wait for the ferris wheel- it’s about as long. “Let’s go on the ferris wheel to watch it.”

Jack nods. “Whatever you say, sugar,” he nods, lagging for a moment as you start to run to the next ride, then catching up and pulling you into his chest, kissing your head. You laugh at the feeling of being trapped in his arms and wrap your arms around him too, allowing the bear hug to last a moment longer than it should.

The both of you wait in line for a few minutes, continuing the conversation you’d been having before.

The line eventually shortens enough for the two of you to get on, and you sit, hands on the lap bar. Whiskey sits next to you, draping his arm across your shoulders. You look up at him and smile, scooting into his side. You give a little whoop of excitement as the ride starts moving, and you jump at a loud bang.

You timed it perfectly.

The sky lights with different colors, a variety of fireworks lighting off and illuminating the dark night sky. The stars are clear all the way out here, in the middle of Alabama, and you beam at the image. You pull out your phone to snap some pictures but Jack holds your hand down. “The pictures never do it justice, darlin’. Just look up at those and remember ‘em real hard.” Laughing softly, you rest your head on Jack’s shoulder as you watch. It’s stunning, absolutely gorgeous, and you look at Jack for a moment to find he’s not watching the sky, but has his eyes trained on your face, watching your reaction.

The moment is perfect. He can handle the rejection, he decides, if he has to, but he has to move now. “Can I kiss you, Amaretto?” He murmurs quietly, his face already moving close to yours. You give an answer in the form of a gesture: taking his face in your hands and closing the gap. The kiss is perfect, his soft lips tasting of the cotton candy you finally persuaded him to buy a few hours ago.

He sighs softly, his hand finding the side of your face as well. He breaks away for a moment and looks at your lovely face, grinning at the way your eyes reflect only his face, the dark night sky, and the colorful fireworks. “I think your pops named you wrong. Furthest thing from bitter. You’re the sweetest, most perfect thing I ever did taste,” he drawls before closing the space again, pressing his lips to yours. Your heart pounds in time with the bursts in the sky, erratic and loud, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. You’re finally kissing the man you’ve been crushing on since the moment your father introduced you to the Statesman.

A particularly loud firework startles you and you jump, breaking your kiss and grinning at him, the adrenaline from both the scare and the kiss pounding its way through your body. You look at him and want to say something but can’t find the words. You simply giggle and look into his eyes, making him laugh too. You sit there for a moment, laughing, while the ferris wheel stays stationary. As it moves, you cling to his chest again, looking up and beaming at him. “Kiss me again, cowboy,” you demand, and he chuckles.

“Any time, sugar,” he says with a smile as he takes your chin in his hand and kisses you again.

#agent whiskey x reader #jack daniels x reader #agent jack daniels x reader #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal x reader #agent jack whiskey daniels x reader #agent jack whiskey daniels #kingsman: the golden circle #agent jack daniels #pedro pascal fanfiction #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #i am a simp #agent whiskey

279 notes · View notes

blueposthings · 3 years

Text

Little Informant (pt. 2)

Warnings: Violence, blood, language

Words: 2.1k+

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

You had taken your time in getting back home, the fifteen minute walk turned to two hours when you decided to take a stroll around town. It was late, too late for a frail girl like you to be roaming the streets of New York all by yourself. But you had to clear your mind. Besides, with your self-defense skills along with the trusty butterfly knife you always had with you at all times, you were pretty confident.

However, when you finally arrived back at your apartment, you had noticed several things out of place; the dust on the right side of the door frame, two feet above the floor, had a gap, you were sure you hadn’t touched it; the nail of one of the panels on the creaky floorboard was slanted, someone had tripped on it.

There was an intruder in your house.

You slowly grabbed your knife from your jacket pocket before reaching for your keys, intentionally shaking it in your fingers. You turned your keys and opened the door with your left hand, the knife on your right, ready to fight. When no one ambushed you, you crouched down like you were going to untie your shoes when in fact you reached for the gun you had stored below the shoe cabinet.

You replaced the knife in your hold with the handgun, holding it firmly with both of your hands before peeking out from the corner of your doorway. Sure enough, stood a man about six feet tall dressed in all black in your poor excuse of a kitchen, you noticed he was holding a pistol of his own in one hand and a framed picture of you and your father in the other.

“You do look like him, you know?” He said, acknowledging your presence.

“Who are you?” You had your gun trained on him. Your gaze unwavering, despite your heart trying to beat out of your ribcage.

“You can consider me an old family friend.” The man placed the frame back to the countertop as he turned to you.

“Why are you here?” You stood your ground at the front doorway as he approached you slowly, his gun in hand.

“When you opened that laptop, it sent a signal to us. We thought Rumlow had come back from the dead so I offered to go.” He said, ever so casually. “Then I found these photos and, I gotta say, I’m quite surprised. I never took your father as- well, a father.”

He was only a few feet in front of you now, your gun pointed straight to his chest. “I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.”

“If you’re anything like Brock, you could be a great asset to us, Y/N-”

“How do you know my name?”

“Perhaps, you might want to consider joining us? Your father would be proud.”

“I’m not an asset,” you gritted out. “And I’m nothing like him.”

This perked your intruder’s attention, his head tilted slightly to the side. “Oh?”

You realized then that you might have spilled something you shouldn’t have. You felt your heart drop to your stomach, your hands struggling to keep your weapon steady.

“Do tell me, Y/N. What did you do with the information from that laptop?” His tone was now much sharper, accusing.

You searched your brain to try and find a believable lie, something that wouldn’t put your life in danger. In your moment of silence, the man in front of you grew impatient and furious.

“Where were you just now?”

“None of your business.” You finally said, your voice giving you away with a crack.

“What a shame.” The man sighed, bowing his head to the floor for a second. “I hope Brock’s gonna forgive me for this one.” Then he raised his gun at you, with anger in his eyes.

Time seemed to slow down when you pulled your trigger. However, the man managed to avoid it at the last second, the bullet only hitting his shoulder. The force pushed him back and he let go of his gun, his good hand holding his wound.

“Little shit.” He cursed before charging at you.

You re-aimed your gun, but due to the close distance between the two of you, he successfully pushed it away. He used his whole body weight to knock you back to the wall, resulting in you losing your grip of the pistol in your hand. You grabbed your knife from your pocket, forcing the butt to his head, making him groan as he stumbled ever so slightly. You pushed him back by the injured shoulder, your thumb digging in to the bullet wound. You then kneed him in the stomach, your dominant hand twirling open the knife and stabbing him in the back. You pushed his body off of you with all your might and tried to make a run for it.

You only managed to get a couple of steps away when he grabbed your foot. You tripped and fell face first to the floor. You groaned, your head was spinning and you could feel blood oozing from your nose. The intruder dragged himself up with his good arm while you tried to collect yourself. You still had the knife in your hand so you tried to land another stab to his leg, but he blocked it, grabbing your hand and twisting it so you’d drop the weapon. But what you lack in size and power, you made up with agility -when he yanked your arm up, you used the momentum to help you jump up and straddle his neck with your two legs, your arms holding him in a choke hold. He tried to get you off but between the bullet and the stab wound, he was already losing a lot of blood. He stumbled around, crashing through your coffee table and one of your bookshelves. At one point he went close enough to the TV stand where you had an old glass vase on top. You grabbed the vase and swung it to his face, it broke and he fell unconscious with you below him. You were sure you must have heard a crack, but with the adrenaline numbing your pain you couldn't tell if it was his bone or yours.

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

When you noticed he wasn’t moving, you took a second to collect your breath. Eventually, you pushed him off and got up, grabbing your knife and both guns before running off.

“And we believe the kid?” Clint crossed his arms. He stared at the back of his teammate’s head, almost seeing the cogs in his skull turning.

“Yes, I know she was telling the truth.” Steve said, his voice an octave lower than it usually is. “I could feel it.”

“No offense, Cap. But when it comes to the sake of the planet’s security, I would rather not go on gut feeling.”

“Have you considered maybe this is just your guilt speaking?” Natasha chimed into the conversation from the other side of the table.

Steve was silent for a moment. “It’s not,” he finally said, although it seemed like he was trying to convince himself more than anything.

“As much as I hate to say this, but I think the oldman’s right,” Tony sat back down on the closest chair to the front of the room. “I don’t think she was lying, at least not about this.”

“I say, it is better to be safe than sorry.” Vision spoke up, his gaze not leaving the files displayed on the holograms.

“He’s got a point. We have this information- the location of everything. Why don’t we go see for ourselves.” Rhodes added.

When no one interjected, the room took it as an agreement. Tony was about to tell FRIDAY to display the closest base that they could locate when the A.I. had another idea.

“Tony, there has been a 911 call from the address you told me to look out for.”

This got the man on his feet. “When?”

“Just a few seconds ago. The neighbors reported hearing gunshots and loud crashes. The police are on their way, they should arrive in eight to ten minutes.”

“We can get there in two.”

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

They got to your apartment in exactly eighty four seconds. Tony, along with Steve, Clint, Sam and Natasha rushed past some of your curious neighbors and arrived in front of your door. Your keys were still in the door knob when Natasha pushed the door open. Obviously the first thing they noticed was the situation of your living room. And the unconscious man on the floor.

Clint approached the bleeding man, checking for a pulse. “He’s alive, barely.”

Natasha tossed him a pair of handcuffs and the archer gathered the unknown man’s hands before securing him. She then entered a nearby closet in an unsuccessful attempt of finding the apartment’s owner.

The rest of them looked around the ransacked apartment trying to get an idea of what happened or who this man was. Steve picked up one of the photographs that was shattered on the floor, the one your intruder was looking at earlier. There was a pit forming in his stomach as he processed what he was seeing. You’d taken the photograph at your middle school father-daughter dance. He was always at work, but that day he had taken a day off to attend the event for you, even took you shopping to get a nice pastel pink dress and a tie for him to match. You grinned in that photo, unintentionally showing off your braces; your father had his hand around your frame, a gentle yet charismatic smile adorning his lips.

Sam went further to the apartment, ending up in your room. He took in the decorations -or rather lack thereof. Your walls contrasted those of the living room, aside from one old poster of a band Sam didn’t recognize, there was only a bed in the centre of the room. He stepped out of the room and entered another. There was more personality, more life, in this room. Ironic really, seeing as it was your late father’s. There were pictures of him and you on his bedside table, among other things. His bed was unmade but dusty. He spotted a glimmer beyond the papers strewn across the floor. Curiosity led him to picking it up; it was a dog tag. He pocketed it before appearing back to the rest, shaking his head.

“Hey kid!” Tony hollered. “It’s Tony! With The Avengers?”

Silence.

Suddenly the front door re-opened with a force. The five heroes immediately got to a fighting stance.

“NYPD! Put your hands where I can see ‘em!”

The team sighed, half in relief and half disappointment. Upon realizing that the Avengers themselves were in front of them, the police officers lowered their weapon with faces full of questions.

“With all due respect,” one of them spoke nervously, “what are you guys doing here?”

“Our jurisdiction.” Tony snarked with sarcasm before going back to looking around the room.

“That man needs medical help.” Natasha stepped up to the officer, pointing at the body on the ground. “We don’t know who he is yet but we assume he’s bad so keep an eye on him.”

Steve rested his shield on his arm before picking up one of the framed pictures that looked the most recent before giving it to a different officer. “Look for this girl, she might be in danger. And injured.” It was one your father had taken of you only a few months before you last saw him, you had grown a little since then but Steve thought it should do.

“There might be no need for that,” Tony called. “One of the security cams across the street spotted a girl running away from this building, must be her.”

Steve nodded. “Let’s go.” And with that they were off, leaving the police to take care of the crime scene and culprit while they search for you with the guidance of FRIDAY.

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

You finally decided you couldn’t run any further; your chest was heaving, your head was spinning, your back was killing you, and you’re pretty sure the man had sprained your arm. You stopped at an empty alley, a good block away from your building. You let your body slide down the wall to the concrete below you in exhaustion. You lifted your shirt up to see a purple bruise starting to form on your upper stomach. You raised your hand to wipe off the blood staining your face but only ended up spreading the red liquid everywhere before you limped, your muscles giving out. You sighed, turning your brain trying to find out how you were going to get out of this one.

Then you felt a presence to your left. Your instincts kicked in, grabbing the gun you had carried and aiming it to the figure.

“Wow, hey. Put that down.” The figure said, three more people emerging behind him. “It’s me.”

God damn the Avengers. You thought, lowering the gun in your hand. You let your head lull back to the wall behind you.

You heard a metal clink from your other side. “You’ll manage, huh?”

You couldn’t find the energy in you to return the attitude.

Tag list: @iamthescarlettwitch @sincerely-kizzy @ineedmorefanfics @moonyinthestars

I know this is very much long overdue, i hope you'll still enjoy it regardless xx

#avengers x teen!reader #avengers fluff #avengers sister!reader #avenger!reader #avengers x y/n #avengers imagine

83 notes · View notes

satanwithboobs · 3 years

Text

self-care | GN!MC x OM brothers

tw: mentions of reckless behavior, the brothers are demons so they essentially roofie MC but.. for their own good...? it’s not okay and I’m pretty sure Beel is the only one who feels like they did something wrong.

a/n: okay so this is really long (nearly 2,400 words), and it just sort of happened. mainly inspired by my history of reckless behavior when it comes to my health and my resolve not to let the stress of my upcoming week make me resort to bad habits. and before anyone wonders... the anecdote in the story? yeah that really happened. I gave myself stomach ulcers because I kept taking ibuprofen (it was for a horrible tooth ache) and I didn’t eat anything but saltines for days while I finished up a final project. word to the wise: don’t be like me. I’m dumb.

self care is important, everyone! I know a lot of people are starting school again, so please!!! take!! care!! of!!! yourselves!!

—

Lucifer was the first to notice something was up with MC, though initially he paid it no heed.

Naturally, he had always prided himself (of course) on his superior attention to detail, and

He had noticed them drinking cups of coffee and energy drinks a whole lot more often than usual, but given that finals were coming up, he figured they were simply trying to keep more awake for the sake of their studies.

None of this was healthy, of course, but he’d wait to scold them if it truly became worth his while to do so.

And so, he went on with his business, offering them advice as he had on many occasions before. He had even been kind enough to tutor them without the aid of his whip or his fire, something he would never do with any of his brothers. At one point he even let a snide comment under their breath go with just a stern warning.

He truly had gone soft, but he supposed it was best if he didn’t traumatize the human he and his brothers had formed such a strong bond with just for the sake of grades.

And while he had been the first to notice their new habits - all of his brothers had eventually caught on to what was going on.

It was the Saturday before finals that they all finally acknowledged that something needed to be done.

—

“They’re looking truly frightening!” Asmo exclaimed, and while typically his statements were brushed off by the rest as pure hyperbole, they all had to agree with this one. “They’ll get wrinkles in no time if they keep this up...”

“Yeah, somethin’ needs to be done,” Mammon commented, earning nods from his brothers — a truly rare occurrence in the House of Lamentation.

“Maybe I can plan a spa day!” Asmo interjected, an excited expression on his face.

“I don’t think havin’ ya feel ‘em up all day would help anythin,” Mammon grumbled, earning a scowl from the fifth-born in return.

“Perhaps...” Satan started.

“No,” Lucifer retorted, earning a look from the wrathful fourth-born.

He simply continued as if daggers weren’t being glared in his direction, “I don’t care how many times you try and paint it as a benefit for us all, you will not get a cat.”

Satan muttered something that sounded a lot like, “dammit,” under his breath, along with a couple of choice words that Lucifer ignored for the sake of pushing the conversation forward.

“I know! There’s this new TSL ultra-special extended-cut series box set that we can marathon! It has never-before-heard director commentary, along with a limited edition SIGNED replica of the—”

“That’s just gonna wind ‘em up even more!” The second-born responded, getting fed up with this already.

In truth, he was mainly irritated at himself for failing to notice that MC had gotten so bad. He was their first guy, he should’ve known!

“For once, I have to agree with Mammon,” the Avatar of Pride earned six dumbfounded looks with that, with Belphegor actually opening his eyes and Beelzebub nearly choking on the bite of food in his mouth.

“MC needs sleep, not distractions,” he went on without missing a beat, “I very much doubt they’ve had more than four hours of sleep in the last five days, so that must be our first priority.”

“How do you suggest we do that? It isn’t like MC will concede easy, we all know how stubborn they are,” Satan asked.

“Simple,” Lucifer proclaimed, as his gaze fell upon the youngest brother, who had already fallen into a deep slumber once again. “We use force.”

Upon feeling the eyes of all his brothers fall on him, Belphegor stirred, a single violet eye opening. He grumbled, not bothering to sit up properly as he regarded the eldest with a tired expression.

“What?”

—

Lucifer had explained the very simple two-step ‘plan’ to Belphegor (step no. 1, corner the human so they can’t slip away - step no. 2, Belphie makes them sleep), and they were about to begin discussing when to put their plan into motion when footsteps echoed outside the common room.

MC walked in, looking a bit more than a little worse for wear (while their clothes and hair looked fine given the circumstances, the bags under their eyes had become so prominent that they were basically their own entity at this point).

“Oh, that’s where you guys were. I was wondering why the place was so quiet,” they tried to joke, but it came out in such a monotone way that it just sounded more like a simple statement.

Their brow furrowed a bit when they got no response from the seven demons, but they shrugged it off and put their bag down on the table, beginning to take out the many books they were going to need. They’d been barricaded in their room for quite some time, but they had needed a change of scenery. Not to mention, their bed had been way too tempting...

The silence in the room was deafening - even in their bleary state they could tell something was off - so eventually they turned around to see six pairs of eyes scrutinizing their every move (Belphegor was asleep, which didn’t surprise them.

“You guys are starting to freak me out,” they stifled a yawn and moved to grab their coffee, in desperate need of another pick-me-up.

If they had any hope of grasping the concepts in Devildom Law, they’d need it—

They were confused when they didn’t find it where they had left it - on the table, two seconds earlier - but not so when they noticed that Lucifer had suddenly appeared right next to them, their coffee in hand.

“Uhh, Luci? Kinda need that,” they let out a laugh and outstretched their hand, silently asking for it back.

“No, you’re cut off,” he declared, earning a sigh from MC. It wasn’t like they had been caught dancing on the tables after a few too many shots of Demonus. It was just coffee.

“You guys are worried, aren’t you? Well, don’t be. It’s not like I haven’t done this sort of thing dozens of times before, I’ll be fine,” they tried to reassure, though in truth they had never been forced to study nearly as hard as they had for the classes at RAD.

“No, what yer gonna do is let us take care of ya’. Don’t ya trust us?” Mammon said gruffly, earning a look from the human.

“Yeah... you’re really fragile, being a human, and..” Beelzebub started, before trailing off with a frown, remembering they didn’t particularly like being told that. Even if it was objectively true.

“Seriously? I’m being lectured by a bunch of demons on healthy lifestyle choices?” They said, exasperated. “I already said, I’ve done so much worse before. Not sure if I ever mentioned it, but this one time I was up for three nights straight in college.. Gave myself stomach ulcers during finals week because all I had to eat was a sleeve of saltines and some ibuprofen—” they laughed a bit before realizing - upon seeing everyone’s concern only increase - maybe that particular story wasn’t the best one to tell right at that very moment.

MC turned back to Lucifer, shooting him a pleading look. “I need to do well on these finals, Lucifer. I’m not going to make you guys look bad by completely bombing them all.”

The look in his eyes softened for a moment, before he sent someone behind them a terse nod.

Of course, they figured out just a little too late that this was far more than simply a discussion about their unhealthy sleeping habits.

They didn’t even need to look behind them to feel the overwhelming presence of the youngest brother weighing down on them.

While Belphie had done this sort of thing to them once or twice on accident while taking a nap nearby, it had never felt this.. overpowering.

They shot Lucifer a look, and he responded with a somewhat sympathetic look of his own.

“You can’t be serious about...” they trailed off, trying and failing to stifle a yawn. “About.. this....”

MC soon fell into the waiting arms of the eldest, out like a light.

Lucifer let out a soft chuckle as he scooped them up bridal-style, giving a quick nod to Beelzebub who had picked up his twin the same way.

It was a side-effect of the youngest’s ability; he could make someone of his choosing fall into a deep sleep if he wanted, but he’d always do the same.

It was kind of annoying, but it wasn’t like he didn’t spend most of the time sleeping anyway. At least he had full control over how long the other person slept and would always wake at the same time they did.

Now that he thought about it, he’d have to find an excuse to do this again sometime. Naps were way less fun when the person you’re napping with insists on getting up before you wanted them to.

“Pretty sure that’s a record for Belphie,” Satan mused, “I’ve never seen someone pass out like that in less than 10 seconds.”

—

Beelzebub happily chomped down on the many food items he had been supplied with as he waited for his twin and MC to awaken.

The rest of his brothers would have hated having to wait so long, but as long as he had food and his two favorite people in front of him....

Beel looked up from his snack when he heard the pair stir.

An annoyed expression settled on MC’s face as they opened their eyes, completely erasing the peaceful look they held moments before.

Beel frowned, knowing they had a reason to be annoyed, but also knowing that this was all for their own good.

Their face softened ever-so-slightly when they noticed Beelzebub, the one brother they could never stay mad at.

They were about to sit up when they realized there was an arm loosely caged around their waist. Behind them, they could feel the soft and slow breathing of the youngest demon brother, as if he wasn’t already awake.

They attempted to move away, but the loose grip quickly tightened, pushing them flush against Belphegor’s chest.

A satisfied hum escaped their ‘captor’ when MC gave up and sighed.

“You’re welcome,” Belphegor said tiredly, nuzzling his face in their neck, much to their chagrin.

“I can’t believe you guys...” they finally said, their voice still rough from sleep. “How long?”

Beelzebub frowned again, knowing they wouldn’t like the answer. “18 hours,” he finally said, bracing for the response.

“Wait, 18 hours?!” MC rolled their eyes when the demon behind them groaned at the exclamation. “I’m going to miss—”

“I arranged for your deadlines to be extended, don’t worry,” MC stiffened when they heard the eldest’s voice, knowing their inevitable lecture was likely to come sooner rather than later.

They moved to sit up again, though this time their living restraint let it happen, turning over to hopefully get just 5 more minutes of sleep...

The human winced upon seeing the stern gaze Lucifer was giving them, though his eyes were notably softer than usual.

“While I appreciate the unwavering dedication to your studies,” he started, moving to sit on the edge of the bed near the two former sleeping beauties, “you do need to take care of yourself.”

“Achievement means nothing if you end up comatose before you reach the finish line.”

MC looked down, guilt settling on their face. Fair point from the Avatar of Pride.

“I—” they tried to start, but a gloved finger pressed against their lips before they could get anywhere.

“No arguments.”

MC sighed, tossing a defeated look to the eldest. All they got in response was a chuckle and his signature smug look.

Silence permeated the room for a moment before Lucifer spoke up again.

“You will report to my study promptly after dinner every night without exception until you are finished with everything,” he said, the edge in his voice coming back in full force. “Understand?”

MC nodded in response. Figures he’d implement something like this.

“Good. I will help you study a portion of the time, while Satan will help with the rest.”

The human resisted the urge to groan at this. Great, two drill sergeants for the price of one. Literally.

They felt their cheeks flare with heat when they felt Lucifer’s gloved hand cup their cheek as he leaned in to place a soft kiss on their forehead.

“Your well-being is important to all of us,” he said, pulling back. “Never forget that.”

“Lucifer is—” Beel interjected mid-bite before he quickly swallowed. “—right.”

“Won’t hear me arguin’ on that!” Mammon piped up as he filed into the room with the four brothers who weren’t already in there to begin with.

“Lucifer said I could plan a spa day when you finish up! Just you and me... sounds heavenly, doesn’t it?” Asmodeus announced, tossing a wink toward MC.

“Oi! If you think I’m gonna let that happen, you got another thing comin’, Asmo!” Mammon growled, earning an eye roll from the Avatar of Lust.

“You have nothing to worry about, as long as I’m your tutor,” Satan interjected before a true fight could break out.

“You better finish up quickly, because there’s this new game is coming out—!” Leviathan practically vibrated with excitement before letting out a terrified sound.

“Don’t put too much stress on them,” Lucifer’s aura flared.

“Oh, uh...” Levi corrected, looking a bit like a wounded puppy. “T-take all the time you n-need...”

MC couldn’t help but crack a smile at the brothers’ antics, their previous annoyance at the unexpected 18-hour nap all but gone (though they would have to speak to Lucifer about boundaries.. while they agreed that their health was important, essentially supernaturally drugging someone still wasn’t okay).

“You guys are too much,” they said, their cheeks flaring. “Just how did I end up stuck with all of you?”

Silence fell upon the room for a very brief moment at the question, before chaos (naturally) resumed its regularly scheduled programming.

#obey me shall we date #obey me x mc #obey me x reader #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me mammon x reader #obey me leviathan x reader #obey me satan x reader #obey me asmo x reader #obey me beel x reader #obey me belphegor x reader #oh my god so many tags

201 notes · View notes

whumpmatsus · 3 years

Note

Heyo! 👋 hope you're doing well! If you are taking requests right now, maybe some Ichi hurt/comfort? Like maybe he's having a depressive episode one day (me? Projecting? It's more likely than you think 😂) unlike any he's ever had before, and he just doesn't have the strength to do anything, even make snippy remarks at any of his brothers. One (or all, you can pick!) of them notices this odd behavior, and makes it their mission to help him feel a little more like his old self, even if that just means "riding out the storm" with him.

Oof this was really long, lol sorry 😂 but thanks for taking the time to read, I love your writing style! Take care! 👋

eyyy don't be sorry! God I REALLY enjoyed writing this... I love how it turned out

sometimes these guys can be jerks, for sure, even when one of their own is in pain

but... when it's serious... THIS BEAUTIFUL SHIT HAPPENS

please enjoy Ichi being spoiled and surrounded by love from all his brothers because HE DESERVES IT and I love how this turned out <3

Ichimatsu’s first (and maybe only) mistake is that he assumes his brothers don’t pay that much attention to him one way or the other unless he speaks up.

Or, maybe it’s that he often hopes they don’t.

Because he knows they care; there are little things they all do that remind him that no matter what, they love him. But they all have their own things to do, and most of the time he finds that best. They should be able to do whatever they like instead of wasting their lives making him feel better. He has a bad day or hates himself so much of the time, if they paid him attention whenever he wasn’t doing well, they’d never get to enjoy themselves with other things.

He cares about them, too. So usually he’d rather they occupy themselves with their own interests whenever he’s not feeling well. He can bury things deep inside and pretend those shitty feelings don’t exist and act almost normal. As normal as someone like him can act, anyway. For their sake. They don’t deserve to worry about him.

Today, he’s too tired for whatever reason. His scathing barbs and negative attitude on most days aren’t really fake… on the bad days, though, he can force his typical demeanor so nobody suspects he’s not fine. All they see is sour-faced, ill-tempered fourth brother Ichimatsu.

He can’t even do that much right now. It’s as if the weight of existence and his own mind is pulling him down, further and further, until he’s drowning in his thoughts. Horrible thoughts. Things telling him he’s worthless, a failure, a burden, good for nothing, should probably be dead… too many things to keep track of.

If he were trying not to get his brothers’ attention by being quiet and listless, it isn’t working. In fact, his current behavior has actually done the opposite.

While he’s lying in the corner of the room, curled around himself and wishing he could fall asleep to avoid dealing with these thoughts and feelings, the others are around their table muttering among themselves.

“You guys noticed he barely touched breakfast, right?” Osomatsu is the first to speak up, and he’s doing his best not to look at Ichimatsu too much, simply because he doesn’t want his younger brother to feel everyone’s eyes on him. He’s pretty sure that would just make matters worse.

Choromatsu hums in agreement. “Yeah, no, he just kind of stared into his tea… he might have taken a sip or two, but that’s about it. I don’t think he even ate any rice.”

“Did he even brush his teeth this morning?” Totty speaks up. “Or his hair? It looks messier than usual, and I was the last one in the bathroom before breakfast, and it didn’t look like his toothbrush had been used.”

“Also,” Karamatsu chimes in, “I believe that is the same outfit he wore yesterday. He didn’t sleep in it, but he put it back on when he got up even though it hasn’t been washed.”

Choromatsu frowns and steals a quick glance at the fourth eldest. “Like he… didn’t wanna think about picking something different out, huh? And… it’s kind of worrying that he didn’t brush his teeth or hair. I mean, that’s basic hygiene. It’s like he’s depressed or… some… thing…”

Suddenly a light bulb goes off, and the rest of the brothers exchange a concerned look with each other.

“Oh,” is all Osomatsu says for a moment. Then, “Fuck.”

Before anyone else can breathe a word, Jyushimatsu leans back away from the table and collapses with his head in Ichimatsu’s lap. “Aaaah, Ichimatsu-nii-chan! Baseball practice today? We can do it at the beach!”

Ichimatsu hardly flinches at the abrupt contact, but really it’s because he doesn’t even have the strength to be startled. He doesn’t move to push Jyushimatsu off or bounce his leg to dissuade the him from staying or anything. It’s a moment until he actually says anything, like a delayed reaction from a computer. “Uh. Not today, Jyushi. I’m probably gonna take a nap.”

“Hmmmmmmm… oh, I know! I’ll nap with you! Maybe we’ll dream about baseball!”

All the others watch closely, waiting to see if he gives an average Ichimatsu reaction. Instead, he doesn’t even shrug. “Yeah, if you want.”

Obviously, that’s not what they would be expecting from any other day. They all look at each other again, minus Jyushimatsu who just curls up against his big brother’s side.

Ichimatsu, on the other hand, is so out of it in his own head that he doesn’t realize that he’s done anything to worry his brothers. They should all be paying attention to their own shit, right?

He just feels so exhausted despite that he knows he slept okay last night. All he did this morning was wake up and get out of bed and already he’s… drained.

You’re so lazy. You can’t even put together the energy it takes to read a fucking magazine or something? To do nothing like you usually do? What kind of loser doesn’t have enough energy to do something like watch TV?

What the hell is wrong with you?

He cringes at the sound of his own inner voice berating him, and ducks his head down between his knees. Shit. Everything hurts. Isn’t that right, though? He’s useless. It doesn’t take any effort to just sit somewhere watching TV or reading and yet he’s not even willing to do something like that.

Even though he expects that Jyushimatsu might want to hang out with him, because the two of them are close, he doesn’t anticipate it when Osomatsu comes over and sits himself down across from Ichimatsu. At least, he thinks it’s Osomatsu. He doesn’t really feel like lifting his head fully; it looks like a red hoodie, though.

“Uh, hey, Ichimacchan.” Osomatsu feels a little awkward at first, mainly due to the fact that he’s never sure what to do when Ichimatsu is in one of ‘these’ moods. What works on one day might not work the next time. Previous experience is all he has to draw on, though.

“I noticed you didn’t eat too much at breakfast… you in the mood for something sweet?” Tempting him with one of their favorite treats might put him in better spirits, at least for a minute. “There’s a box of imagawayaki on the counter… there’s three in there, so we can split ‘em. Mom said these ones have chocolate cream in them.”

Everyone else lets out a blissful sigh as they all think about how delicious that’s going to be. Bean paste or custard or even regular cream is always good, but chocolate cream? If they had to fight over those, someone might end up dead.

Ichimatsu offers a shrug in his brother’s direction. “Sure, if you guys want. I’m just not that hungry.”

Osomatsu frowns, and looks over toward Choromatsu who’s thankfully recovered from the imagawayaki imagine spot. None of the brothers would ever turn that down. Even if they weren’t necessarily hungry, they’d make room for something that good. Moreover, given that Ichimatsu didn’t eat anything at breakfast, he should be starving,especially for sweets.

Choromatsu makes his way over, setting a careful hand on Ichimatsu’s shoulder. He doesn’t have any more of a clue what to do than their eldest, so he’s flying by the seat of his pants just as much. Something has to be done… they can’t just let poor Ichimatsu suffer. “Ichimacchan? It’s pretty cold today. How about I turn on the kotatsu, and if you’re gonna nap, you can sleep with your legs under it? That might feel nice.”

Well. That does sound nice, Ichimatsu thinks, because curling up under the heat of the kotatsu is always nice in the winter. But… he’s pretty sure he doesn’t have the energy to even move from this spot. “Oh, yeah… I’ll probably just nap here, though. Don’t really feel like moving.”

“Aaah, but you are cold, aren’t you? I can hear your teeth chattering from all the way over here!” Karamatsu is up in an instant, tugging his leather jacket off his shoulders. Although it leaves him in nothing but a tank top ― and a horribly plain grey one, at that ― it’s a necessary sacrifice for his little brother’s comfort.

He hurries over to where everyone else is gathering and gently drapes the jacket over Ichimatsu’s shoulders. “Hmph… Karamatsu to the rescue as usual! You’re looking cozier already.”

Man,Ichimatsu’s mind comes up with, I try on Shittymatsu’s dumbass jacket one time and suddenly he’s coming up with any excuse to put the stupid thing over me. Do I really want him freezing instead of me? Why don’t I just move my ass over to the kotatsu? He’s gonna catch a cold and it’ll be all my fault because my stubborn ass didn’t move and he took pity on me.

God, I wanna die. They’re all falling all over themselves to do shit to cheer me up when they should be focusing on themselves. I’m fucking trash, making my brothers waste all their damn time on me. Why couldn’t I just do stuff and not make them worry?

“… Ichimatsu-nii-san?” Totty has plopped himself down in front of Ichimatsu, staring in concern at his big brother. Fuck. He’s using that eye voodoo of his, and if he says anything, if he asks Ichimatsu a question, he’s gonna get an honest answer despite the fact that Ichimatsu doesn’t want to admit anything.

He can’t help it, though. Totty’s hand is soft as he reaches up toward Ichimatsu’s face, thumbing away tears that Ichimatsu didn’t even realize he’d started to cry. But his youngest brother is delicate in the way he brushes them, so caring and tender that any little bit of strength Ichimatsu had to keep things hidden away crumbles quickly.

“Hehe,” Totty chuckles, though there isn’t a genuine mirth behind it, “you’re not having a good day, Ichimatsu-nii-san… are you?”

He blinks, and more tears start to drip down his cheeks. This time Totty doesn’t make a move to wipe them away, instead staring at his brother with those big, sad doe eyes, glittering with sympathy.

Ichimatsu lets his head drop again, eyes pressing against his arm and tears soaking into his sleeve. “N-no,” he manages to say in a quiet, insecure, small voice. He hates it. He hates making this stupid confession, because he should be able to take care of himself. His brothers don’t need to be huddled around him, pissing their days down the drain. “I’m… I’m having a bad day.”

With that, it’s like all five of them attach themselves to him all at once. There’s a brief cacophony of worry and reassurances, and a hug Ichimatsu almost loses himself inside of.

“Alright, you hear that, guys?” Osomatsu announces, maybe a bit louder than he really needs to. “Ichimatsu’s having a bad day! Woohoo!”

Choromatsu scoffs. “Ah, ‘woohoo’?? Osomatsu, you idiot! This isn’t a good thing!”

Osomatsu pulls away to rub a finger under his nose with a grin. “Hey, sure it is! He said it, didn’t he? Good for you, Ichimacchan! You’re having a bad day and you said so! Remember what happened when Totty kept junk from us? We need to know this shit! I’m glad you said something!”

Karamatsu’s hand tousles Ichimatsu’s hair as he pulls his brother into a hug. “Yes, Osomatsu is right. You’re having a bad day, Ichimatsu, and that’s just fine. It takes a lot of bravery to admit it, so we’re proud of you.”

“Plus, we’re gonna make this the best bad day ever!” Totty hums. He’s whipped his phone out before anyone can so much as blink, typing away on it. “It’s just about lunch time, so I’m gonna order some takeout! Ichimatsu-nii-san, what sounds good? Curry? Sushi? Ooh… maybe fried chicken? We don’t do that too often… might be a nice treat! Oh, it’s your call, though.”

Osomatsu gives Ichimatsu a tiny bump on the shoulder with his fist. “You and Totty figure that out while I go cut that imagawayaki for us. Be right back, guys.”

… Am I in the fucking Twilight Zone or something? What the hell???

Ichimatsu lifts his head just a little, looking at all his brothers. Totty’s on his phone looking at delivery options, Osomatsu is headed to the kitchen, Jyushimatsu is nuzzled against his side…

None of them are leaving him by himself. They all still want to be here even when his mood sucks ass. Even when he can’t really do anything for himself. Even when he’s being a huge fucking pain and a thorn in their sides and doing literally nothing to contribute to the day.

What the hell are they all doing? Why are they all fine with wasting their day taking care of him?

When Karamatsu presses a couple of tissues into his hand, Ichimatsu somehow finds the energy to use them to wipe his face. Fuck, he hates crying, and he hates people seeing him cry. “Don’t do this,” he mumbles. “You’re fucking morons. You have better shit to do than…”

“No way!” Jyushimatsu aggressively snuggles against the side of Ichimatsu’s stomach, circling his arms around his brother’s waist. “What better shit could weeeee have to do? We’re shitty NEETs!”

Choromatsu chuckles. “Besides, there’s literally nothing more important than taking care of each other, especially when one of us is down and out. Ichimatsu, you… know none of us are shy when it comes to being honest. So, just… try to believe us when we say there’s nothing we’d rather be doing than being with you right now.”

He straightens up, then gingerly taps Jyushimatsu with his foot. “Hey, Jyushi, how about you scoot yourself and Ichimatsu over to the kotatsu? And Totty, are you really gonna make a delivery driver come out in this weather? It’s almost below freezing! Why don’t you go get it yourself?”

“Excuse you, but if they haven’t shut down the delivery option, why shouldn’t I take advantage of it? I don’t wanna leave Ichimatsu-nii-san!”

“Okay, okay… I guess that’s fair. What are you ordering, again?”

“Aaaah, I dunno! I was waiting for Ichimatsu-nii-san to say what he feels like.”

Meanwhile, Jyushimatsu has somehow gotten himself and Ichimatsu over to the kotatsu, and is currently shoving his big brother’s legs under it while Choromatsu moves to plug it in. “Home run, YEAH! Your tootsies will be toasty in no time, Ichimatsu-nii-san!”

“O-oh… thanks, Jyushi…” That’s about all he can say, really. He’s slumped over the table in a matter of seconds, and although there’s no way it can support the weight of everything he feels like he’s being crushed under, feels a little more relaxing than holding himself in a tight ball in the corner.

He’s going to cry again. He’s pretty sure he’s going to cry again. His brothers, his selfish, douche-a-holic, demon brothers… would rather be taking care of him on a bad day than out doing their own things, not touching him or his shitty mood with a ten-foot pole.

Jyushimatsu is cuddled up on one side, and he can feel Karamatsu settling in on the other with an arm around Ichimatsu’s shoulders. That’s it. He’s surrounded by brothers and their warm, selfless-for-once-in-their-lives affection. He has to surrender. He doesn’t stand a chance.

His mind drifts back to the others. “Oh… Totty…”

“Oh! Yeah, mhm?”

“Um… curry sounds good, I guess.”

The impossibly huge smile on his youngest brother’s face comes through even when he speaks. “Oh, great! Curry it is! Okaaaay, I’m gonna get it from that nice place in town. You want it with rice or udon? Or do you want curry bread?”

“Uhh… just with rice.”

“Rice, okay, sounds good! Beef, chicken, or pork?”

“Huh… you mentioned fried chicken, now that sounds good. Does that place do curry rice with tonkatsu on top?”

“Oooh… that does sound good. Yeah, I think there’s an option for that. Chicken tonkatsu with curry rice, then?”

“Yeah.”

“Gotcha. Is that what everybody wants?”

“Yeah, Totty,” Choromatsu injects, “just order the same thing for everybody. We’ll all eat that.”

“Okay, what about sides? Does anyone want fukujinzuke or rakkyō?”

“Geez, just… just get half of each and we can divide it up if anyone wants any.”

“Okaaay! I’m not ordering drinks from there, though… too expensive. We have tea here. Oh, I’ll get a few orders of pork curry bread, too, in case we want a snack later.”

“Well, make sure you get either three or six.”

“Yeahhhh, Cherrymatsu, I’m not stupid! I’ll just get three; I’m fine buying some, but I’m not trying to go broke! Does that sound okay, Ichimatsu-nii-san? The curry bread for later?”

It takes a moment, but finally Ichimatsu lets out a breathy, almost tearful laugh as he leans against Karamatsu’s shoulder. “Totty… you’re trying to fatten me up… you witch… you’re gonna cook me and eat me… that’s your plan, huh?…”

The whole room erupts into a small fit of laughter, even Totty who’s blushing at being teased. Ichimatsu feels Karamatsu press a kiss to his head, and he sighs. Usually he wouldn’t be able to take all of this… the attention, and Totty blabbering away, and Choromatsu trying to be responsible, and… everything.

At the moment, it feels right. Like things are supposed to be this way. Like he’s supposed to be having a bad day so his brothers can all gather around him and remind him that regardless of anything else, when one of them needs their brothers, everyone is going to be there.

Maybe he needed that reminder.

Maybe they all did.

#depression tw #suicidal thoughts tw #Osomatsu san #whump #Ichimatsu #Osomatsu #Karamatsu #Choromatsu #Jyushimatsu #Totty #hurt/comfort #emotional whump #depression #caretaking #LOOK AT MY BOYS!!!! BEING GOOD BOYS #TAKING CARE OF THEIR BROTHER!!!!#y'all PLEASE SCREAM WITH ME #I love this fam so much ;-;

27 notes · View notes

stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale · 3 years

Text

Top 5 Most Hated Characters

As y’all can see, this week’s T5F is a request sent in by anon. I picked it because I guess at the time I thought it would be fun to explore some of TWDG’s least popular, and most hated, characters while also taking into account characters that I can’t stand.

These are characters that the vast majority of us don’t like or downright despise for many different reasons. None of us are going out of our ways to defend most of these bastards, and anyone who is I get the impression they’re doing so for the sake of being Different™... though while looking around for info about these characters and what people were saying about them, I did find myself in some odd places.... come across, eh... odd fanart.

But I guess this is the part where I say this is all in good fun and if you happen to be a legit stan of any of these people, that’s cool. Maybe you can answer some of my questions as to why??

5. Nate

Okay, when I said that I found myself in odd places, it turns out that Nate actually has a bit of a fanbase. It’s not big or anything, from what I can tell, but big enough for me to question why because I was under the impression that we all agreed that this dude sucks.

Seriously, I would’ve put him higher on this list if I hadn’t discovered this handful of people making fanart for him and claiming him as a comfort character. While I find that an odd choice, you do whatever makes you feel comforted, y’know? Just would like to understand why.

As for the rest of us, he’s terrible. Every time I go back to 400 days, he’s someone I never look forward to seeing. I’ve even tried not getting in the truck with him while playing Russell’s story, but in true Telltale fashion, you’re forced to drive along with this creep.

Red flags start going off when Russell’s sharing his story about his previous group, something you can tell left some trauma with him, and Nate is just weirdly fixated on the girl Russell liked. Like yeah okay dude, I get it, it’s the apocalypse and you haven’t had any action for a while but oh my god.

Then the whole walker thing that almost gets Russell chomped is annoying. Oh, and how could I forget about how it’s implied that he attacked the old couple before and was there to finish them off, which he does no matter what and it’s not great.

Hell, he even uses the line Russell gave him but it’s worse because crazy eyes. And if you don’t say anything, Nate murders them right there without a thought and then continues to be a real creep. Fuck this guy.

As the wise Eddie once said, “I don’t what that guy in my life, man!”

4. The Stranger

Hey, have I ever mentioned how much this dude sucks?

I don’t even have to tell you why he’s on this list. We all know the obvious reasons-- manipulated and kidnapped Clementine, which caused Lee to get bit by a walker and fucking die. No one here is white-knighting for this dipshit.

Sure, it sucks what the Stranger went through. He lost his family and that would be enough to drive anyone up the wall. I mean, just look at Kenny. But this dude, okay. Look. Listen. I can only feel so bad for you when you lost your son on a hunting trip that your wife told you not to go on, then when you went looking for him, you literally left the car unlocked and running for anyone to come across. Then you come back and gasp. So your wife leaves you for being a moron... then when you find her dead, you cut off her head and keep it like a damn bowling ball because...??

At least that’s what I get from it. The writers probably should’ve done a better job with explaining what the hell happened but y’know.

That’s not the only reason no one likes this guy. Oh no, you also add to the pile that the Stranger himself is dull. As a character, the dude is just.... boring. And I get that’s probably what they were going for with the whole “I’m just a guy, but you ruined my life and made me this way.”

However, when you set him up the way you did with the talks over the walkie and the stalking, I was expecting a bit more personality outta this loaf of soggy bread. But no... boring yet crazy. Interesting combo and I’m afraid it doesn’t work.

3. Larry

Larry?? On a list of most hated characters?? Nooo...

Yeah, surprise. Larry also sucks. Stop the presses.

Larry is a pain in the ass to deal with for two episodes, constantly belittling the people around him and treating his daughter like shit. Oh, and don’t forget how he behaves towards Lee even if you try to be as nice as possible. Nope, he doesn’t care, he still thinks Lee is garbage and will continue threatening to reveal Lee’s secret to the group. Who cares if that could fuck up the dynamic and endanger the group? Larry sure doesn’t.

Until the very end, this dude is just a splinter in the foot. By the time you get to the meat locker and he has a heart attack, you’re not gonna save him because you think he’ll be better if he survives. No, you’re attempting to save him for Lilly and Clementine’s sake, and if you don’t even care about that, you siding with Mr. Family Man to smash his head in.

Not only is he a soiled diaper, he also don’t have much personality outside of asshole. He has maybe two moments where he’s shown to be just a bit chill? I mean, Lilly tells us that he has a lot of pain and that’s why he’s like this.... but that doesn’t excuse his behavior.

Oh, and can’t forget that apparently he was obsessed with Lilly leaving the lights on so he let the power get cut, so Lilly couldn’t eat ice cream and had to let her hair air dry like a heathen. Unforgivable.

So yeah, fuck Larry.

2. Troy

Ugh, Troy. Fuck this guy.

No really, out of all TWDG characters, this dude and my #1 pick are my most hated. Can’t stand Troy and the only reason I didn’t do a tie for #1 is because for a split second, Troy does show a tiny bit of humanity when Carver is beating down Carver, but blink and you’ll miss it.

Which had me a little concerned to find a handful of posts about having crushes on Troy and drawing fanart but.... again, I guess you do you? And if you can, please explain why because I honestly don’t understand.

Just looking at the screenshot of him annoys him. He’s got one of those punchable faces, y’know?

Anyway, when playing as Clementine, I’m always worried that he’s gonna pop up outta no where and grab her by the neck like he does later in ep3, even though I’ve played s2 a bunch to know that he’s not going to.

But hell, he doesn’t need any excuse to smack anyone around, and there are a handful of times he can really hurt Clem depending on her choices.

Not great, dude.

Can’t say I’m too sorry that Jane shot your dick off.

1. Badger

Yeah, you guys remember Badger. Y’know.... the man who murdered Mariana then laughed about it, claiming that he enjoyed watching her head explode and would do it again and again if he could?

That’s what puts him at #1. He may not have the most screen time like Larry or Troy, but when he is around, he’s fucking awful.

He gets joy from killing Mariana, like it’s some sort of sick thrill for him to go around murdering children and other innocent people.

Remember Francine? Caught her and used her as bait to try and get Javi to come down, and even went as far as to have some fingers cut off. Like, he gets off on destroying people, entire communities.

Shit, he seems to even get off to his own beat down.

He’s fucking gross and outta everyone on this list, I haven’t found a single person being like “Yeah, he’s garbage but I like him kinda?” like no, you’re such garbage that even the Different™ crowd don’t want you.

Fuck Badger.

By the way, if you’ve never had Conrad kill him in your game, I suggest looking it up. It’s pretty good. Gives Conrad a little bit of closure after what happened to Francine, as well as give Javi some closure for Mari’s murder.

Not a single soul wept for you, Badger.

---

Dishonorable Mentions

-Joan. She’s boring, forgettable, and no one is out here gushing over her because most of the time, we can’t even remember her name. -Danny from Vince’s story in 400 Days. Y’know, the dude going to prison because he was convicted of SA. I’ll never understand why people go with him over Justin. Justin sucks, too, but not the same level Danny does. -Lilly in S4. Ugh. That’s a whole other topic for another day. -Arvo, though I guess he has a bit of a following, too

---

Well there ya go. Do you agree or disagree with any of my choices for this list? Or have anything to add? I’m always down to chat.

Have any suggestions for future T5F’s? Feel free to send ‘em in! :D

---

Next week’s T5F Top 5 BROTPs

#twdg t5f #twdg clementine #twdg lee #twdg kenny #twdg lilly #twdg larry #twdg jane #twdg troy #twdg russell #twdg nate #twdg aj #twdg #twdg joan #twdg danny #twdg arvo #twdg conrad #twdg javi #twdg mariana #twdg badger

30 notes · View notes

collecting-stories · 4 years

Text

The Beach Day - ep. 02 - JJ Maybank

Summary: It’s the second day of s’week and your group decides to hit up the beach. Issues before and after put a damper on the vacation but the events of the day might just bring you and JJ closer together.

The S’week Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist

///

“Beach day bitches!” JJ shouted, footsteps thudding down the steps as he entered the kitchen. Sarah was slumped over the island, scrolling mindlessly through her instagram feed while you sat across from her on your computer. 

“How’re you not hung over?” Sarah asked, turning just enough to glare at her boyfriend’s best friend. 

“Cause I didn’t drink my body weight in four locos?” JJ shrugged.

“You say as you down a natty for breakfast,” you mentioned, watching him stand in the doorway of the refrigerator as he drank. 

Sarah and John B had joined you on the beach the night before where Sarah had gotten absolutely cooked because she ‘couldn’t deal with JJ’ while she was sober. While the three of you split a case of Pabst, Sarah had accumulated as many blue four locos as she could find and proceeded to drink until John B had to carry her back to your house. 

“I need a shower and like three more hours of sleep before I even think about the beach.” Sarah mentioned, coming back around to JJ’s original idea. 

“Is the point of s’week not to go to the beach?” 

“And I will JJ, when I’m not practically dead. I came down here for some ginger ale, sorry I’m not standing at the door ready to go.” Sarah snapped, sitting up enough to glare at JJ. 

“You guys are super fun to vacation with clearly,” you cut in, closing your laptop, “I have to go to the market before we hit the beach so...do you wanna come JJ?” 

You figured the best plan of action you could possibly have for this vacation, especially after yesterday, was to keep JJ and Sarah away from each other. If they could survive five days without murdering each other in the house it would only be because they didn’t spend any time together sober. Which seemed fine with both of them. 

Sarah got off the island stool, taking her phone and leaving the half empty can of ginger ale as she went back upstairs to find her boyfriend. Possibly to take the shower she claimed she needed but probably just to wake up John B and complain about JJ’s attitude all over again. 

“Morning,” Pope passed Sarah on the stairs, coming into the kitchen and grabbing a water bottle, “what’s with her?”

“Hang over,” you replied, “If you and Kie want to wait to go to the beach, I’m just running to the market with JJ and then we can all go?” 

“Yeah sure,” Pope nodded in agreement as you excused yourself to get changed. When you were out of the kitchen Pope turned his attention to JJ, who was rummaging through cabinets for something to eat. “I thought you ‘didn’t want to spend senior week with a bunch of fucking kooks’?” 

JJ paused in his search, looking back over his shoulder at Pope, schooling his expression into one of indifference. “Keep your enemies close Pope.” He replied, “and if they wanna buy you some free food then fucking let ‘em.” 

“You know, she does seem nice.” Pope reasoned. He knew his friend well enough to pick up on tells. JJ could pretend like he wasn’t as easily swayed by a cute girl but truth of the matter was that he was looking for the same thing John B and Pope had seemed to obtain. Someone in their lives a little closer than a friend. 

“Don’t try to make it something it’s not.” JJ replied, grabbing a bag of Frozen themed graham crackers and shutting the cabinet. 

You came down the stairs at the same moment, changed into different clothes to go out. “Okay, I’m ready.” 

JJ sat with his feet up on the dash, black scuffed boots leaving dirty prints on the glove compartment of your ‘88 land cruiser. He fiddled with his phone the whole time, switching between playlists as you drove. You’d given him the aux cord willingly, knowing that Kiara has good taste in music from the years at the academy with her and assuming her friends were the same way. 

“This car isn’t very kook of you,” JJ mentioned as he plugged his phone in, noting the old tape deck adapter that the cord plugged into. 

“I think you’re obsessed with that word.” You replied. 

“What? Kook?” 

“Yeah...is it possible for you to not say it for the next four and a half days?” You asked, looking over at him briefly as you stopped at a red light. 

“Of course it is.” 

“Okay, it’s a bet then.” 

“What do I get if I win?” He asked switching to another song when one he didn’t care for came on. 

“You can decide when you win.” You replied, “also, to ease your concern for my car, my dad’s not really into all that ‘kook’ shit. My grandparents are, hence the keys house but my dad tries not to flash his money.” 

“I’ve never met a k-never met anybody on the Eight that doesn’t.” JJ replied. 

“Well I think it was established yesterday that we should get to know each other more.” 

The Winn-Dixie you took him to was a little further away than necessary but it was your favorite, a little less updated, it reminded you of coming down in the summers as a kid. 

JJ was out of the car the second you pulled into a spot, grinning as he looked toward the entrance. There in the front of the store, between the set of sliding glass doors, was a mechanical horse that looked straight out of the 80’s. “I’m getting on that before we leave.” 

“I think you’ll break it.”

“I think you’ll break it.” He snarked back and you couldn’t help but laugh as you followed him inside. 

“Hey!” 

You turned in the frozen food aisle when you heard someone call your name. Kelce waved as he walked over, pushing a half-cart of food. 

“Hey, Kelce.” You greeted, shouldering the door to the Ben and Jerry’s display. “How’s the rental?”

“Pretty sweet. Heard you got Sarah and her friends at your place?” He replied, gaze shifting passed you as he spotted JJ at the top of the aisle. “Scarlett saw you two at the party last night. She told Rafe.”

You looked back as the blond approached, smiling at him before turning back to Kelce, “Scarlett can tell Rafe whatever the fuck she wants. I don’t really care. My life is none of his business.”

JJ came up beside you, missing the entirety of the conversation, putting an arm over your shoulder for the sake of Kelce, while he dropped some orange juice in the cart. Kelce looked both of you over, an expression of annoyance and contempt marring his features. He wasn’t a big fan of Rafe but he would defend a fellow kook, especially a friend of Topper’s, over you any day. You flew under the radar when you hung out with them, and they tolerated you because your family had more money than most, but you were far from the typical kook.

“I better get going.” Kelce finally said, shifting his cart to walk passed you, “make sure you check all your silverware before they leave.”

Before he could pass you completely JJ’s hand grabbed the end of his cart and he stepped in front of Kelce. “What’d you say?”

“I swear to god, if you two make a scene right now-” You groaned, annoyed as it was that Kelce had brought up your ex-boyfriend or the fact that they were in creeping distance of your house. And now he was being an asshole to JJ.

“Hey, I’m just stating a fact.” Kelce said, grinning, “you got sticky fingers just like your old man-”

JJ shoved Kelce’s cart back, pushing it into him stepping closer. You grabbed JJ’s arm to stop him from doing any more damage. You didn’t honestly know anything about his family life or him other than what you were learning as you went along but what Kelce said had clearly struck a cord. JJ looked back at you, jaw tense but eyes softer than they had been when he was looking at Kelce.

“It isn’t worth it, don’t let Kelce being a douche ruin the day.” You said, glancing over at the kook in the aisle. “Let’s just go.”

“Fine. Lets go.” JJ grabbed the handles of your cart and twisted it around, heading back the way he had first come down.

“Hey, in the future try to keep your dog leashed.” Kelce commented.

“What the fuck did you just say?” JJ shouted, leaving the cart and coming back down the aisle. You darted in front of him, putting your hands on his chest to stop him from completely plowing passed you and pounding on Kelce in the middle of the Winn Dixie.

“You heard me, fucking pogue.”

“I swear to god, say one more thing and I’ll fucking rip your throat out!” JJ threatened though he kept his anger in check enough that he didn’t push you.

“Hey, no!” You snapped before turning back to where Kelce was still standing, looking smug, “Kelce, fucking leave.”

“See you guys around.”

“Like hell!” JJ shouted after him. Once Kelce was far enough away JJ backed away from you and ran his hands through his hair, trying to calm himself down. “I fucking hate those guys, I swear to god, they’re all fucking douches!”

“I’m not arguing with you JJ, I’m just saying it’s not worth it to push them, especially not in the middle of a fucking grocery store.” You sighed. “Lets just go okay...we can head back and go to the beach.”

“I gotta cool down...” JJ said, trailing off. He still felt like he wanted to punch something and Kelce was well gone by now.

You stepped over to the refrigerator door closest to him and opened it, jokingly swishing it back and forth like you were fanning him. “Does this help?”

“I hate you.”

The rest of the grocery trip went without a hitch, JJ falling back into a more easy-going persona as he walked the length of the Winn-Dixie with you. Without quarters neither of you got the opportunity to ride the mechanical horse though you promised to come back later in the week with him. When you got back from the store Sarah was already on the back patio, beach bag ready to go.

“They almost left without us.” Kiara mentioned as she helped you unload the car.

“Why am I not surprised?” You loved Sarah but she was single minded and currently, for the last few years, the object of her attention had been John B. It was fine when he wasn’t around but now her main focus was him and spending senior week with him and sunbathing.

Able to wait long enough for you to come home from the grocery store but not long enough for you to actually unload the groceries, Sarah and John B headed down to the beach while you were still getting changed into your bathing suit. With them gone it just left you, JJ, Kiara, and Pope to head down the beach together though you didn’t mind.

Even though it was senior week the beach wasn’t too crowded, the four of you setting up a little closer to the water. Pope helped Kiara with the umbrella while you set up the blankets, watching JJ pull his shirt off and kick off his sandals.

“Do you have sunscreen on?”

“JJ never wears sunscreen.” Pope said, looking over at his best friend.

“You should be down here. The sun is more intense down here.”

“That’s the stupidest thing I've ever heard.” JJ replied, putting his sunglasses back on.

“Are you kidding me?” You asked, looking up at him like he was crazy. You knew from passed experience that the sun in Florida was a nightmare and could only imagine his pale skin burning in the summer sun.

“You should put sunscreen on Jay, seriously.” Kiara said, offering him hers.

“Nope.” He shook his head and you rolled your eyes at him.

“Don’t come crying to me when you burn.”

You and Kiara headed down to the water almost as soon as everything was set up. As you neared the edge of the water JJ ran up behind you, grabbing you around the waist and lifting you into the air. You screamed in surprise, Kiara and Pope laughing as JJ carried you into the ocean and threw you into the water. When you surfaced, you jumped him, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist and sending him falling back into the current.

“Guys!” Kiara shouted when JJ accidentally backed into her trying to grab you again when you ran away from him.

“Sorry!” You laughed, running behind Pope and holding him in front of you.

“No! I’m not getting in this!” Pope said though he was laughing as he tried to move away from you.

“Get over here!” JJ reached for you, just missing and falling into the water. While he was under, he grabbed your ankle, dragging you under as he surfaced. You screamed again as you fell into the water, coming up and sputtering saltwater as you tried to catch your breath.

“JJ!” Kiara smacked his arm as she swam over to you, rubbing your back as you shook your head.

“I’m okay, I’m okay.” You swore, voice hoarse. When you looked up from the water your eyes met JJ’s and you smiled, splashing water toward him.

You stayed close to JJ throughout the afternoon, offering him sunscreen a few more times though he continued to claim that he ‘didn’t burn’ and that he was perfectly fine in the sun. When he and Pope went further out to jump waves you headed back up the beach with Kiara to sunbathe.

“I don’t think you should go,” you said, standing in the door of the bathroom as JJ stood in front of the mirror, inspecting the harsh red burn that covered the entirety of his back and shoulders and part of his arms. You had been right about the sun in Florida and he had learned that the hard way.

“I’ll be fine.” JJ replied though he sounded a little apprehensive. “All I need is some aloe and I’m good as new.”

“Okay,” you bit your lip, knowing that it was a bad idea to let him go to the party but also knowing that there was no way he was going to listen to you. He hadn’t listened to you in the market and he definitely hadn’t listened to you about putting on sunscreen so there was no reason for him to listen now.

The party was down the street from your grandparents' house and you cut through the beach to get there, carrying your shoes as you walked beside JJ. You knew his back was bothering him by the way he kept twitching but you said nothing. The party the night before had been nothing compared to this one which was clear as you walked into the house.

“Finally, a good fucking party.” JJ announced, scoping out the place.

“He says on the second night of the entire week.” Pope commented, rolling his eyes.

Kiara pulled him off to dance while John B and JJ went to find refreshments. Sarah stayed by you, hovering a little too close, and you frowned as you began to catch on to her motive. “I don’t even know if they’re here.”

“If my brother and Topper heard that there was a party anywhere near their place and didn’t decide that they definitely had to come? Yeah, I’m sure they’re having a quiet night in playing scrabble.”

“I didn’t mean they wouldn’t be here I just meant I’m perfectly capable of dealing with your brother Sarah.”

“Except every time you see him you’re so cringe it’s unbearable.”

“I am not!”

“How many times have you gotten back together with him? Because the second he even looks your way you totally turn to jello and do whatever he wants.” Sarah pointed out.

You crossed your arms over your chest, looking around the party and suddenly feeling like you wanted nothing more than to leave. “Look, it’s over. For real this time. I don’t want anything to do with him and I’m not just saying that.”

“Good, I hope not. JJ and I don’t always get along but he’s John B’s best friend and I don’t wanna see him get hurt or anything.” Sarah commented.

“What are you even talking about Sarah? JJ and I are barely friends. Just because we hung out today doesn’t mean we won’t go back to our usual kook v pogue shit when we get back to North Carolina.” You replied, “I’m getting a drink.”

You pushed through the crowd to the kitchen, grabbing a seltzer and heading down the hall for somewhere quiet. Sarah had sucked the party right out of you and honestly all you wanted to do was walk home and forget the whole night had even begun. You knew she was right, you had fallen back into Rafe’s charm more times than you could count but this time you swore things were going to be different. They had to be. You couldn’t keep putting yourself in that situation. And speak of the devil, you had just grabbed the doorknob on the bathroom when you heard the familiar voice call your name.

You turned around to see Rafe standing there in the hallway, beer in hand and grin on his face. “Topper and Kelce said you were down here...I was starting to think they were seeing things.”

“Did it occur to you that I didn’t want to see you?” You asked, turning your face away from him and looking back down the hall.

“Oh come on, you’re not still mad about your grad party are you?” He asked, stepping closer to you.

“Am I still mad that you showed up to my graduation party high off your ass and embarrassed me in front of my entire family. And then on top of that I had to catch you with my cousin?” You said, holding your ground. You hadn’t been lying to Sarah when you said that the last time was the last time you were doing this.

“Babe-”

“Don’t babe me Rafe, I made it perfectly clear I wanted nothing to do with any of you. Why are you even here? Aren’t you a little old to be hanging out on senior week.”

You watched the tic of his jaw as it tensed, “I came to see you and convince you to give me another shot babe. What happened was a mistake.”

“You sound like Topper, desperate and pathetic.”

Before you could get away Rafe grabbed your wrist pulling you closer to him. “I won’t give up.” He said, leaning forward and kissing you while you were trapped between him and the wall. He reeked of alcohol and you pushed at him, trying to shove him away from you. He wouldn’t let up, hands holding your wrists and pushing you harder against the wall.

“Rafe!” Someone shouted and his concentration broke long enough for you to push him away and duck into the bathroom. You shut the door behind you and locked it, leaning your head against the wood and taking a deep breath. Trying to steady your heart beat as the sound of the bass from the music thumped gently in rhythm with the pounding.

You heard the familiar gag of someone about to throw up and turned just in time to see JJ throw his head almost into the toilet bowl as he vomited. His whole body seemed to convulse and as he fell back against the tub you realized he was sweating.

“JJ!”

He groaned but said nothing to you, leaning forward into his lap. You came over, kneeling onto the ground beside him and carefully reaching for the hem of his shirt. “Can I take this off?” You asked, “I want to get some aloe on your back to cool you down.”

“I’m not even drunk, what the fuck.” He groaned, letting you take the cut-off shirt off of him. You got up and grabbed some aloe from the cabinet before coming back and sitting between him and the bathtub. He leaned closer to the toilet, waiting to throw up again.

“I think you have sun poisoning Jay,” you said, watching him shiver as the first of the aloe hit his shoulders and neck. “I’m sorry.”

“Tally this as another fucking terrible part of the trip.”

“When you’re feeling up to it, can we try walking back to mine? You might be more comfortable there, where there isn’t a massive party happening.” You reasoned.

He nodded. There was a long pause as you worked aloe into his back, cooling him down significantly, before he finally spoke up again, “are you okay? Why’d you come in the bathroom?”

“Saw someone I didn’t wanna see.”

“Kelce?” He joked. A second later he was kneeling up on his knees so that he could throw up into the toilet and you were holding his hips to steady him as he leaned over the toilet.

“It’s okay.” You comforted when you realized the quiet noises, he was making were whimpers from the feeling the vomiting was causing. “You’re gonna be okay.” When he fell back onto his butt again you rubbed his back carefully, adding a little more aloe. “We need to get you some water too, sun poisoning can dehydrate you.”

As you took care of JJ any thoughts of Rafe where pushed to the back of your mind. You knew it was only the second night and you had the rest of the week to survive, and he was was nothing if not persistent, but you couldn’t worry about what he wanted or what he would do when JJ was taking up all your attention. Not for the same reason he had on the beach today but still, you didn’t mind focusing on him for a while.

taglist: @pixelated-pogues @booksandshish @lopineapples @ponyboys-sunsets @maplelattes22 @poguesrforlife @freckled-and-daydreaming @chasefreakinstokes @millie-753 @fangirlwithme @alex12948 @howdyherron @katherine097 @tangledinsparkles @tragicmisfits @carbonated-beverage @mariofgreengables @damonsalvawhore27 @dopedoodes @dolanfivsosxox @belledutchess @poguelifeeee @jjsthumbring @faded-blue @parkerpetertingle @thebookwormlife @summer-clouds-and-long-days @jellyfishbeansontoast @minigranger @louisolos @hoewkeye @love-someone-special @finecelle @vitaminekabc @tiredfeels @g4bster @strangerthanfanfiction713 @the-only-nana @tomzfrog @mozz-are-lla @vindictive-hearts @poguestyleskye @ssprayberrythings @pensysto @jenahbell @beautyandthebleh @lavenderxraindrops @gothackedalready @teenwaywardasgardian @thelonewolfdies @hvitost @haha-fuck-you-thot @stillbelieve398-5 @rewindlr @queenniccimicci @kissessforharryyy @thedarkqueenofavalon @alytavzla @bqmblebee @linniep @nerdypartytrashpsychic @xxchxrryxx @spencer-reid-is-a-cutie @mirjanak @kwjune @danielladreaming @obx-saltlife @youngestxhearts @spnobsessedmemes @wowitswondergurl @siwiecola @regev1408 @celestialmaybank @mybnkjj @averagxfangirl @mysterious-adventurer @justawilddreamerchild @rhyetaylor62 @calm-rejects @99sxuxii @oh-annaa @katiaw2 @aiifandomsunite @marteenuhh08 @x-lulu @kitkat0609 @ceruleanjj @yoxsh06 @wicked-laugh @obxwriterfan @justkeepdreamingswift @allie-mcginn @jjmaybankswife @literarycharleton @khiaraaa-in-spacee @crushe-s @teamnick @daydreamlilys @poguesnobx @collectiveuniverses @activist-af @mdgrdians @buckys-sunflower @jolomez @timotaychalabae @babycakes00

331 notes · View notes

weasleymalfoypotter · 3 years

Text

strangers

fred weasly x fem! reader

summary: based on strangers by wingtip (lovely song you should listen to it)

word count: 1.2k

warnings: pure angst, cussing, self hate, mentions of depression, a little fluff at the end

A/N: i based this off of a song i love, i really encourage you to listen to it for this fic. i really enjoyed writing this and i hope you enjoy it!

maybe lately it’s not what you wanted

we’re fading if we’re being honest

impatient you’re waiting to call it

we’ve been together for two years and i don’t know if he’s gonna be around much longer. i love him, so much. but i get the feeling that he doesn’t love me anymore. scratch that. i think he loves me, he’s just not in love with me anymore. he’s distant, cold, angry. he never wants to spend time with me anymore, he never want to hold my hand, he never wants to kiss me, he doesn’t even want to go to the library to do work with me. of course he won’t say all of this to my face. he’s tired of me and i know it. the constant excuses of why we can’t hang out, the pulling away from my touch, the not listening when i tell him about my day. it’s all too much for me, but apparently i’m too much for him. i don’t know where i went wrong. the worst part is i think he has feelings for someone else. if i’m being painfully honest i think that’s what started all of this. i think he’s found happiness and warmth in someone else and i’m just fading away from him altogether.

it’s tuesday morning and i made my way to the great hall for breakfast. he stopped waiting for me in the common room a few months ago. i made my way to the gryffindor table to sit next to him and my best friends, alicia and angelina. we said good mornings, fred’s being rather unenthusiastic. i looked at fred’s hand on the table when i settled and he moved it, intertwining it with the other, pulling his elbows up onto the table to rest his chin on. i sighed quietly to myself and jumped into the conversation with the others pretending that every time fred did this i didn’t want to cry. i knew he was just holding on for my sake, but it was making it worse.

and the voices got louder inside both our heads

i tried kicking em out but they came back with their friends

endless conversations over and over again

at night i couldn’t hold it together. a silencing charm and the curtains around my bed pulled together made for free break down space. i couldn’t stop blaming myself for his lack of care. i would tell myself i should’ve been better. i should’ve been worth it.

“he doesn’t love you because you’re useless”

“he’s tired of you”

“you aren’t pretty enough, that’s why he can’t stand you anymore”

“you aren’t worth his attention”

“maybe if you could do something right he would care”

my own thoughts are always against me nowadays. my head is constantly attacking me. i’m always subconsciously resenting myself for how things are going with fred. right now, currently, in this moment, i’m done. i’m over this i can’t do it anymore.

let’s go back and pretend we’re strangers

i’ll walk up and ask what your name is

and you’ll forget what all our mistakes were

we can try changing, pretending we’re strangers

it was late but i decided to take my chances and go to the common room to see if he was there. i’m high on determination and i know if i sleep on it, i’ll be too scared to confront him tomorrow. and to my luck, the tall red head was sitting on a couch just sitting there doing nothing. he turned his head when he heard someone else’s footsteps announcing their presence. he saw you and a fake half smile crept onto his face

“hey what are you doing up so late?” he asked rather unenthusiastically, like it was a chore, a responsibility, to ask.

“i was actually looking for you” i said while fiddling with my hands

“what’s up?” he questioned i looked at him and tears started to prick my eyes. i sighed and paused before i spoke and when i did my voice broke

“what did i do wrong?” he was standing now, across the room from me, but i could still see the expression on his face. confusion mixed with something else i didn’t recognize.

“what are you talking about?” i looked away and then met his eyes

“you know exactly what i’m talking about. i want to know what i did to make you fall out of love, what i did to make you hate the idea of touching me, what i did to make you loathe spending time with me. i want to know why i’m not good enough for you” i could barely get the last part out. i was full on crying now and i spoke while looking him directly in his eyes. i wanted him to see how much i was hurting. he looked everywhere but me.

“you never did anything wrong” he said after a pause

“THEN WHY?” i yelled. i was at my breaking point. no more nice y/n.

“you want me to be honest with you? even if it doesn’t make sense? even if it hurts?” he said. i scoffed

“i’m already hurt fred” my words were laced with poison. i wanted him to know that he’d been slowly breaking me. tears were forming in his eyes and he looked away before speaking

“it’s the only way i can feel anything” he looked at me. a tear had fallen

“what is that supposed to mean?” i pleaded. i needed answers

“it means that i’m empty y/n. it means that i have been numb these past few months and i can’t stop it. i cant feel anything. i cant cry when i need to, i cant smile a real smile, i cant yell and mean it, i cant be stressed because i cant care. the only way i have been able to feel anything, even things that hurt, is by missing you. by pushing you away so that i miss you. i don’t know what’s wrong with me but i can’t feel anything, there’s no reason, everything is just...gone. i’m not me” his voice was bitter, full of pain and loathing. he was staring into my eyes as he spoke, tears falling down his face. i don’t understand. i paused, looking around the room for a response

“fred, wha- how do i- what can i do?” my voice was quiet. processing the fact that he was hurting and i didn’t notice. processing that he never hated me, he didn’t not love me. i don’t know how to help. i don’t know if i’m mad. he’s depressed. he’s hurting. of course i’m not mad. i’m disappointed in myself because he felt like he couldn’t talk to me.

“i don’t know! that’s the fucking problem! i have no idea what to do but i can’t go on like this y/n. not just because of what i’m feeling but because i’m hurting you” his voice broke. “i’m just so... ugh.. i’m so..” i grabbed his hands and put my right hand up to his cheek to turn his face down to look at me

“i know fred, i know” i pulled him down, his face resting in the crook of my neck, his arms wrapped around me as he sobbed.

“i love you so much” he croaked out

“i love you too” i kept holding him, stroking his hair until i pulled away still holding his face in my hands “how’s this, we start over. we start from the beginning. i make it my life’s mission to make you happy. to help you smile, how’s that?”

“starting over?”

“we’re strangers now” i said with a smile “hi i’m y/n l/n, it’s lovely to meet you” he smiled

“fred weasly” he said with a bittersweet smile, tears still streaming down his face, before he pulled me into a kiss. i love this boy with everything in me, and i will try my hardest to help him through this.

“it’ll get better, i promise”

#harry potter fanfiction #harry potter blog #harry potter #fred weasly x reader #fred weasley #fred and george #weasleys #weasleys wizard wheezes #weasley twins #writing #fred weasley fanfiction #hp fanfiction #hp fandom #hp fanfic #hp aesthetic #x reader #fred x y/n

45 notes · View notes

lokislittlesigyn · 3 years

Text

A Day’s Work - Pt.3

Part 1

Part 2

Pairing: Loki / Sigyn (basically an oc based off the marvel/myth namesake)

Warnings: Some slight/implied language. Violence.

Summary: The Guardians of The Galaxy have been, well, guarding the galaxy on their own time. But when a handsome reward for the safe return of an Asgardian princess is released, they may get more adventure than they bargained for.

No Loki yet! Don’t worry. He’ll show up soon enough. ;)

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

Sigyn pressed the other panels’ blue buttons as quickly as she could, making her way to the end of the hall. One by one, the cell doors opened, previous inmates flooding out.

The alarms blared.

"Time to go!" Rocket shot off, the other Guardians in tow.

Sigyn followed them - but noticed the panel of their cell. Stopped.

Sigyn Lokiwife of Asgard, it said. That was her name. Lokiwife.

She was married?

"Hey, princess! C'mon!" Quill yelled, ready to come back for her. She turned, snapping out of her trance-like focus on the panel. Caught up with the Guardians and stayed close to them as they ran through the ship.

"Any ideas where the armory might be?"

"How about we just ask them for directions?" Rocket snapped as a group of the bounty hunters sprung from behind a corner. Drax tackled one, Gamora running in to attack another. Rocket and Groot took another. Sigyn jumped, staying back as Peter reluctantly took the last one, socking him in the jaw. The Guardians made quick work of the bounty hunters, taking their blasters. Peter panted after the fight, holding his newly-borrowed blaster close. "About that armory..." Somehow, among the ruckus and chaos, the Guardians found the armory - more of a messy storage room, in truth - and grabbed their belongings. Sigyn stayed to the side, still mulling over the panel's words.

Wife.. Someone's wife... Did her husband miss her?

Did he love her?

Did she love him?

"You okay there, princess?" Peter glanced at her, clicking a small device to his hip. She met his gaze.

"Fine. Just ready to be out of here." She smiled weakly. “Can I help..?”

"Uhh..” He looked down at their weapons, then at Gamora, who gave him a look. Back to her. “Just stay close.”

Sigyn’s shoulder drooped.

“All right, let's haul out." He nodded to the group, grabbing his blaster. They left the armory - and were immediately met with a dozen or more bounty hunters, all guns trained on their position. Groot, seated on Rocket’s shoulder, reached over and pressed the device on Peter’s hip.

Click.

((if you want to follow along with music for the full experience, queue Take A Chance On Me - ABBA right about now ;) ))

Music began blaring from the device.

“If you change your mind, I’m the first in line!”

"You know the drill, Guardians!" Peter triggered a helmet to cover his face.

“Honey, I’m still free. Take a chance on me!”

"Hey, Drax?" Rocket grinned, "Bet'cha I can take out more of ‘em than you can!"

"Is that a challenge?" Drax pulled out dual knives. Sigyn's eyes widened and she moved closer to Quill, staying just behind him.

The Guardians charged.

They ran to the beat of the music, practically plowing through the droves of bounty hunters - Peter leading the way. Rocket grabbed pebble-sized bits of metal from his belt, tossing them out onto enemies. With a grin, he clicked a remote - triggering colorful pink and orange explosions all around them. Several bounty hunters gagged on the colored gas. He then jumped on Drax’s shoulders, then onto more enemies, weaving among them. Groot, still clinging to his shoulder, released a fierce little battle cry.

They shot past Gamora, who impaled a hunter on her sword. He spat out blood before she tossed him away, meeting her next foe with a lethal slice across the chest. She turned, bashing the blaster of another hunter up just as he fired - hitting a wire that supported beams above, causing the heavy beam to swing down in front of them.

“Stop!” Peter slid to a halt as the beam groaned, colliding with a handful of the bounty hunters...

“Now!” he called, the Guardians hopping past the beam just before it swung back over their path.

They rounded a corner. Down the hall, another crowd of bounty hunters was advancing on them. Past their shoulders, a large, open hangar housed countless ships. In the distance, the Milano.

The door behind the hunters slammed closed.

“How many you got, Drax?” Rocket grinned, already poised to throw another round of grenades.

“Thirteen.” The giant man rolled his shoulder, brandishing his knives.

“Awh, that’s cute. Got fifteen myself-”

“I am Groot!”

“Well, we’ve got fifteen. But who’s counting?” Rocket tossed the grenades, downing a handful of hunters.

“We are!” Drax charged into the fray.

“Aren’t there more pressing matters at hand than games?” Gamora shouted, stabbing one of the hunters in the leg, then the chest.

The group made their way down the hallway, Sigyn staying close behind Peter - and dodging blaster shots from the enemies, silently lamenting her lack of a weapon. Peter shot one enemy in the neck, then grabbing his arm, swung him around and, using him as a sort of shield, shot two others. He dropped the limp body, then triggered his mask to disappear, revealing his face. He caught Gamora’s eye, giving her a cheeky wink. She rolled her eyes, but not without a small smile.

They reached the blast door.

“All right, let’s pry this sucker open.” Rocket walked over to the controls.

Immediately, Drax grabbed the door and with a roar, pried it open. The others stared at him.

“What? He said pry it open.”

Sigyn giggled slightly. “Well... He’s not wrong.”

((music ends here!))

~~~~ They made a beeline for the Milano.

"Okay, guys, let's get out of here ASAP," Peter sat in the cockpit, having just finished releasing the Milano from the various tethers that held it in place. "No telling who might show u- Awh sh-" Another large group of bounty hunters rushed into the hangar. Alarms blared louder as the Milano took off.

"They must have sensors up!" Rocket snarled when the Milano shook from the impact of a blast, "Punch it, Quill!"

Before them, the main doors to the garage were starting to close as another ship was brought in.

"Hold onto something, this is gonna be rough!" Peter slammed the shift forward. Sigyn clung to a seat, yelling along with the others and the Milano lurched, then jumped into a high-speed escape. Other, slightly smaller ships around them rose, chasing them, grappling hook-like guns loaded and ready, already shooting at the Milano.

"C'mon- C'mon! We can make it!"

“Peter, we can’t!” Gamora screamed. The ship rocked as hooks made impact, mercifully sliding off without taking hold.

“We can!”

The opening before them was getting smaller... Smaller...

Ting!

They sped through the door just in the nick of time. Behind them, explosions sounded as the enemy ships crashed into their own mothership's door - and each other.

"Ha!" Peter let out an almost maniacal burst of laughter, the rest of the Guardians cheering loudly. Even Sigyn cheered, whooping once. The Milano, still at a considerable speed, shot out into space.

"Oh, thank goodness.." Sigyn breathed, "That was- that was incredible! Is this normal for you? Escaping captors? Close calls?"

"Well, now that you ask-" Rocket started.

"Don't even, Rocket, don't even." Peter cut him off.

"What? I was just answering the lady's question." He grinned.

"No, you were definitely about to rat me out."

"Was not."

"Yes you were." Once they were out of range of the enemy ship, Peter slowed the Milano, flipping a few switches. "What's the quickest way to Asgard?"

“Ehh, there’s a few ways. You could always let me drive...”

Sigyn glanced at Peter.

Sigyn Lokiwife of Asgard. Asgard, whatever it was, must be home.

She excused herself and stepped back into the main room of the Milano, staring down at the table, arms crossed.

Would the people there hate her, if she didn't remember them, or would they understand?

Did they care for her in the first place?

She closed her eyes, letting her mind wander. Surely, there was some memory she still held, even something faint...

Asgard. What was Asgard?

She furrowed her brow. Gold. Asgard has gold. Sun. Warmth. Smile. Her heart fluttered. Something about Asgard made her feel lighter... Excited?

"Feeling overwhelmed?" Gamora walked in.

Sigyn gasped and turned to her, eyes open. She swallowed, and managed a tiny smile. "A little."

The alien walked closer, stood across from her. "I don’t blame you. Not everyone’s used to such.. Intense fights. We'll return you home safe."

Sigyn nodded, pursing her lips.. "About that, are... Look, I know you think I was given some sort of - something - to make me forget. But I can hardly remember anything about this Asgard place. I.. I’m not so sure I belong there."

"You're the princess. You belong there. And I doubt your husband would take kindly to you being away from him much longer."

"He's protective?"

"Notoriously. There’s several million units being offered for your safe return; no doubt, he had a hand in that."

So he does care about me.. Unless he's just an over-protective, overbearing jerk...

I guess we’ll see.

"You're all returning me for the sake of a reward, then?"

"Yes."

Sigyn nodded. "Well, I'd probably do the same.." Would she? "...I think."

Gamora pursed her lips slightly. "You should start remembering soon.. Even the most powerful amnesiac gases only last a few days, maybe a week at best."

"How long will it take to reach Asgard?"

"Depends on if we have to stop for fuel, or hit another detour... I'll let you know."

Gamora left, walking back to the cockpit. Sigyn took a seat and, sighing quietly, mulled over what little she could remember of her apparent home.

#lokixsigyn #loki fanfic #logyn #aaaaaaa?#guardiansofthegalaxy #gotg fanfiction #assortedau

18 notes · View notes

rainbowpacifiers · 3 years

Text

Twin Kingdoms (A3! Event story) - Chapter 9

Haruto returns to practice. Rehearsals run smoothly and before we know it, their first show is here. (Sorry for potential mistakes!)

Chapter 8 | Index | Chapter 10

Haruto: ...... Haruto: It's Haruto. Reni: Enter. Haruto: --Excuse me. Haruto: Please accept my apologies! Haruto: I sincerely regret that I missed rehearsals for two days and was absent without notice yesterday, in spite of having the lead role. Reni: Do you feel better? Haruto: Yes. Reni: If you're not recovered, say so right now. Before anything else, resting your body is most important. Reni: That you couldn't attend practice and were absent without notice couldn't be helped. Reni: Rather, I am the one that is sorry for not noticing your condition and only making demands on you. Haruto: Eh... Reni: You might be thinking that I'm unreasonable and only strict on the GOD Troupe members... Reni: But Shift and you are members of the GOD Troupe, and I think of you as something akin to family that I will continue to be involved with in the future as well. Reni: That's why I direct by thinking about the next performance, and the next, and the future, and what kind of actors I will raise you to. Reni: In that respect, Tasuku will only be treated as a guest performer of the collaboration. Reni: I will communicate the intention behind the directing with regards to the play, but it is not my role to get involved beyond that. Reni: In that sense, I think it is undeniable that there is a gap. Haruto: --. Reni: Also, I believe you have noticed, but... My directing policy should have changed a lot from before. Reni: My directing so far has been one-sided, killing the individuality of the actors and dyeing with the ideals I pursue. Reni: I believed that to be the very best in order to express the ideals of GOD Troupe. Reni: But you, Shift and Madoka threw all of my guidance to the winds at the recent act-off, and I was deeply moved by the performance you rehearsed overnight. Reni: It is also fact that we were defeated by the performance of MANKAI Company, where the thoughts and feelings of the actors are respected. Reni: I was keenly aware that I myself wouldn't be able to reach the ideals that the GOD Troupe is truly aiming for. Reni: My ideals towards plays, and the world view the GOD Troupe is aiming for haven't changed. But I felt that I had to try to change the approach. Reni: You may be confused by the change in what I demand from the actors. Sorry for the lack of explanation. Haruto: --No! You have nothing to apologise for! Haruto: I know that despite your guidance having changed, the direction the GOD Troupe is aiming for has not. Haruto: Thanks to my meeting with the GOD Troupe and being discovered by you, I was able to change my life. Haruto: And because of your strict guidance, I was able to become an inhabitant of a beautiful world of dreams, just like I wanted to become. Haruto: I feel nothing but gratitude towards you, Reni-san. Haruto: Even if the course has changed, my feelings of wanting to grant your ideals with all I've got are unchanged. Haruto: I will never forget your appearance as a former actor, nor your words to have spirit as an actor. Haruto: I plan to hold that in my mind and push forward as an actor of the GOD Troupe. Reni: Haruto... Thank you. Reni: Once this play's run is over, let's have a talk. About GOD Troupe's future. Haruto: --Yes! Haruto: (That's right... Just like Reni-san, the future I am aiming for has not changed. What I am aiming for is the ideal final stage that Reni-san and the GOD Troupe are aiming for. ) Haruto: (Whether I'm the "real deal" or a "fake", I will not be shaken. That is the sole truth within me.) Haruto: (I will continue to do my utmost to respond to the feeling of having Reni-san nurture me with an eye on my future.) Haruto: (I will devote my body and soul to repay Reni-san and the GOD Troupe for having changed my fate. That is what I must do in my life.)

Tasuku: "The 'Dragon's followers' [1] who worship the ancient dragon?" Haruto: "I've never heard of them." Shift: "Same here." Haruto: "Isn't the fact that magic tools were used proof that it's someone from South Agis?" Tasuku: "That may not necessarily be the case. In the underworld, they are traded by North Aria, too." Azami: "In all likelihood, they aren't just random rogues." Izumi: (I was worried about Haruto-kun, but he's made a complete comeback. He seems healthy too - I'm glad!)

Reni: After a 10-minute break, we will continue onto the second half. Haruto: Excuse me, but can I say something before that? Haruto: Once again, I'm sorry for missing rehearsals. Haruto: The whole time, I had my hands full with myself, and I feel like I wasn't very reliable, neither as lead actor nor as leader. Haruto: In order to let this play succeed, I intend to do my utmost as leader for the remaining rehearsal time. Haruto: For the purpose of adorning the dawn of a new GOD Troupe, I'm counting on all of you. Shift: Of course! Tasuku: We're counting on you too. Azami: Sure. Reni: I leave it to you, Haruto. Haruto: Thank you. Izumi: (Haruto-kun's expression says that he's ready to move on. He seems somewhat dependable.) Haruto: --Tasuku. Tasuku: ? Haruto: I got your message from Shift. Though it kind of felt like you just were pitying me--. Tasuku: That wasn't my intent... Haruto: For a long while, I was jealous of you. Haruto: Even though you joined after me, you easily climbed all the way to the top, and excecssively stood out with your blessed physique. Haruto: You were the thorn in my side who was constantly complimented by Reni-san. For the longest time, I hated you. Tasuku: ..... Haruto: Whenever we were together, I simply felt annoyed,　and when we co-starred together for the first time in a while, I remembered that feeling. Haruto: But I will put all of that into my performance as Cain and act it out. That is my Cain. Haruto: In order to draw closer to the ideals that Reni-san's new GOD Troupe is pursuing, I will make use of any emotions and do anything. Haruto: There is no doubt that I am acting for Reni-san's, for GOD Troupe's sake. That is something that you can never do again; a pride only permitted to me. Tasuku: ....You're right. That's just like Yamada Genta. Haruto: Hah? Don't ya get cocky! Tasuku: Pfft. Haruto: Geez, as always, you're annoying.

Haruto: Izumida, it would be better if you could put more anger into that. Haruto: Tasuku, it will be easier if you come out sooner. Azami: Got it. Tasuku: I'll give it a try. Haruto: And Shimohira-san, about this sound--. Izumi: (He doesn't just provide advice for acting, he also has extensive knowledge about the production. As you'd expect...) Izumi: Haruto-kun has become quite reliable, hasn't he? Reni: That's because he has the most stage experience and sees the whole picture. Izumi: (His aesthetic sense is similar to Kamikizaka-san's as well. It feels like Kamikizaka-san is at ease and leaving it to him.) Izumi: (Also... After his breakthrough, he's become able to make himself look beautiful and express Cain's deep emotions.) Izumi: (I'm excited for the first day of performance!)

Azami: Face down a bit. Shift: This is weird. Azami: That's my line. Shift: Having you stare so hard at my face in such close proximity is a first, isn't it? It kind of makes me want to laugh. Azami: That should be my line too--you can face forward now. Shift: ....You know, I really want to make this play with Haruto-san in the lead role a success. This is making me psyched up in a different way from that time when I was the lead. Shift: So far, I was fine with performing as long as I myself could stand on stage, but now I think this way. Azami: I thought the same when Taichi-san played the lead. Let's knock 'em dead starting with the first day. Shift: Yeah.

Staff: Five minutes left. Haruto: ...... Shift: Alright, now a word from the leader! Haruto: Don't handle it so carelessly. Haruto: I don't know about MANKAI Theatre, but here at GOD Theatre, we are only allowed to show a complete 100% from the first day. Haruto: ....But, here, we have 3 people with experience as the GOD Troupe's top. 3 people who have been acknowledged by that Reni-san. Haruto: The remaining person only has 1 year of experience on stage, but he's a big newcomer with the attitude to manage such a big stage. Haruto: With these 4 people gathered here, there is no way that we can't do it. Shift: That's right! Tasuku: Naturally. Azami: Yeah. Haruto: Tasuku, even if you've left the GOD Troupe once, only for now, I will have you show the most beautiful play in this GOD Theatre. Haruto: Right now, you are one of the actors who embody the GOD Troupe's beautiful world of dreams. Tasuku: I got it. Haruto: Must be fabulous!

_______________

[1] The word used can also mean kin, clan or dependent.

Chapter 8 | Index | Chapter 10

#A3!#A3! event story #A3! translation #A3 event story #Act! Addict! Actors!#Twin Kingdoms #A3! Twin Kingdoms #GOD Troupe #MANKAI Company #Asuka Haruto #Arakawa Shift #Arakawa Shifuto #Kamikizaka Reni #Takato Tasuku #Izumida Azami #Godza #my translations #chapter summaries

19 notes · View notes

ahkaahshi · 4 years

Note

congrats on the milestone!! scenario with atsumu and osamu under ☁︎ 1? thank you for writing! your blog is so wonderful!

prompt: ☁︎ #1 -> things you argue about + how you argue

roomies: the miya twins

genre: angst but I rlly suck at writing angst so there’s more humor in this than actual angst I'm sorry 😭 but there will be crying I promise

warning(s): swearing, semi-failed angst

my note to you: tysm you’re so kind 🥺💓 idk why but just you thanking me for writing is really making my heart go on x games mode ❤️🚴‍♀️🏂🤸🏻‍♀️

roomie arguments with the miya twins [scenario]

the things you argue about vary, but usually center around cleaning and sharing snacks

you appreciate that osamu likes to cook and will make food for everyone, but you hate how atsumu will never help you clean up after him in return

also, neither of them are very good at keeping the house itself tidy, and you feel like you’re always stepping on crumbs or tripping over charging cords/shoes they’ve left out in the living room

they also have a tendency to demolish your snack stash from time to time and will leave just a tiny bit behind so they don’t actually have to throw it away 😒

like, it’s seriously annoying to open your tub of ice cream after a long day and find one spoonful left in it, or find like three cheetos and a shit ton of crumbs left at the bottom of a bag you bought yesterday

the way you argue is usually civil, but when the three of you have had a long day/are in a mood, things get a little savage and you’ll raise your voices at each other

words will be said that you regret when tensions start running high, unfortunately

but, just know that they will always apologize and try to be better, even if that apology takes days to arrive

Upon returning home from a long day of school and work, there’s nothing more you want to do than head to the fridge, grab that container of ice cream that you got specially for yourself yesterday, and drown your sorrows its sweetness. However, on your way to the fridge, you end up tripping over a laptop charger strewn along the floor from where it’s plugged into the wall. After taking a long moment to glare at the white cord that’s wronged you, your journey to the fridge continues.

And when you open the door to the freezer up top, you come to the horrific, gut-wrenching realization that your ice cream is nowhere to be found. Frantically, you sift through all the bags frozen peas for Atsumu’s volleyball-related injuries, and various, floating pieces of frozen food that Osamu never remembered to thaw like he said he would--but your search comes up empty. Slowly, you shut the freezer door with dismay and trudge over to the recycling bin.

There, you find the empty ice cream container with your name written on the side of it.

Grabbing it, you storm down the hallway and knock on the doors belonging to both your roommates before waiting patiently outside. As soon as they’re both standing in their respective doorways, watching you with nearly identical, curious gazes, you hold up the evidence.

“Who ate this?” you ask, (e/c) eyes narrowed as your gaze flickers between the two of them.

Without saying a word, Atsumu and Osamu point at one another, and then proceed to give each other disgusted looks at the fact. “Yer always eatin’ stuff that ain’t yers!” Osamu growls at his brother.

“But ya’ve got that tendency to dig into our snack stashes when yer feelin’ peckish!” Atsumu retorts.

Before the two of them can get into what you’re sure will turn into another shouting match, you walk into the living room, grab the laptop charger, and bring it back to them as another piece of evidence, hoping that one of them will come forward for each crime. “Who left this out? I swear I’ve tripped over it six times today,” you wonder.

Osamu reaches towards you to retrieve the charger and admits, “’Kay, that one’s on me. My bad. I forgot to take it back into my room ‘fore I went ta the restaurant.”

When your gaze returns to Atsumu’s face, he’s biting his lower lip while his eyebrows are furrowed in what appears to be an expression of guilt. “Listen,” he says, voice somewhat strained, “I jus’ really wanted somethin’ ta eat while I watched Netflix.”

Normally, his dumb excuses don’t strike much of a nerve, since you’re expecting them and, therefore, are able to shrug them off. Tonight, however, him eating your ice cream without so much as telling you happens to be the straw that breaks the camel’s back.

“I'm so fucking sick and tired of your attitude, ‘Tsumu!” you growl, balling your hands up into fists, “You have everything you want. You’re playing volleyball professionally, you’re a public heartthrob, and you enjoy what you do. I hate my fucking job, my coworkers, and my classmates; and the only thing that was keeping me going today was knowing that I had that ice cream to eat later, but you went ahead and took that too because you always get what you want!”

Before you know it, hot tears are streaming down your face, and you’re having to use the sleeve of your sweater to wipe them away. “Hey, that ain’t fair! I’ve worked my ass off for everythin’ I have!” he argues, voice sharp enough to cut through you like a knife.

“Well, damn it, why don’t you do any work around the house? I'm always the one stuck doing your chores and cleaning up after you, but you don’t care! You just put your feet up while I vacuum right beneath ‘em every single time and eat my food!”

Atsumu wants to defend himself, but he finds he can’t when he realizes that this dispute is about more than just ice cream. Osamu’s watching him with a knowing gaze, as if silently agreeing with you and insisting that he puts his pettiness aside for the sake of your friendship and the household’s tranquility. Following a tense moment of listening to you sob quietly into your hands, Atsumu wanders over towards you and pulls you into a tight embrace, resting his chin atop your head when you bury it in his chest.

“I’m sorry, (f/n),” he apologizes, “I’ll get off my ass ‘nd help ya more often.”

“I’m sorry for getting upset, ‘Tsumu.” Your whimper is muffled by the fabric of his hoodie, but it still reaches his ears.

With a small smile, he pulls away from you and suggests, “Put on somethin’ comfy, and we can go to the store so I can buy ya a whole new tub of ice cream, ‘kay?”

⭐︎ fran’s 600 milestone event! (reqs closed, interactions welcome!)

#fran writes hq!!#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #miya atsumu #miya osamu #x reader #reader insert #haikyuu #hq!!#anime #manga #fran's 600 milestone event!!#fran writes requests!!#haikyuu scenarios

46 notes · View notes