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thefanficmonster · 3 years

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Sweet Tooth

Corpse Husband x Asian Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Tooth-rotting (😉) Fluff, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Corpse isn’t one to have a big preference or craving for sweet, sugary treats. In fact, he’d even go as far as to say he’s not at all a fan of candy. Well, much to his yet to be known delight, his partner Y/N takes that as a personal challenge.

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your lovely request! So sorry it’s taken me so long to write and post it but here it finally is and I hope you come across it and read it despite the long time that’s passed. If you do, I hope you enjoy it! Love, Vy ❤

“Hey guys! Welcome back to my channel!“ Y/N gives the camera a wave and blows it a quick kiss with their lips stretched in a delighted grin. They clap their hands together, turning to look at their guest who’s sitting in a chair on their right, his face covered with a sticker in the final cut of the video that their viewers have the opportunity of watching. “Ok, before we address the elephant in the room, I’m gonna ask the elephant himself not to move his head too much cause this is already gonna take a long time to edit, the last thing I need is to animate that sticker over your face to follow your movement.“

“Got it, babe.“ A deep voice replies obediently, earning an approving hum in response. However, just as Y/N’s about to turn to face the camera again, the mysterious - ok, not THAT mysterious - guest leans down and plants a kiss on their cheek.

“Brat!“ They squeal as they turn to glare at the person with narrowed eyes. He doesn’t appear bothered at all, chuckling as he wraps his arms around them in an attempt to soften them up. Sadly, his tries fall through as they proceed to ignore his affection instead of reciprocating it for the sake of being petty, “Everyone, this is my boyfriend Corpse.“

“Hello, I am hand.“ Corpse says, slowly waving his hand at the camera, “I shall be your entertainment tonight.“

“Oh this is no entertainment, I have a point to prove here.“ Y/N argues, breaking free from his arms before they bend down to pick up one of the two boxes that are resting by their feet. “You see, Corpse and I got in a bit of a scrap last night...“ they trail off, distracted by the contents of the box that’s now resting on their lap.

“I didn’t think me admitting to not liking sweet stuff would provoke such a dramatic reaction from Y/N but here we are.“ He interferes, lifting a finger in the air as though that will help him be heard better or would protect him in case his partner decided to go off at him.

Y/N just ignores his input yet again, continuing to address the camera, aka their audience, “So as you guys may or may not know, my mom’s Korean and my dad’s Japanese. Since they live in their respective countries for work purposes, that means I’m always one phone call - and a little bit of a wait - away from Korean and Japanese snacks at all times. I’m a person who constantly has a snack by their side so you can bet I make that phone call often. However, about a week ago, I made that call specifically for candy, the brands I was obsessed with as a kid. I don’t know what came over me but I think it was my fortuneteller sense kicking in because this mister over here decided to CASUALLY bring up the fact that he doesn’t like candy.” They turn to glare at him before continuing, “Anyways, so luckily, the package arrived only recently so I haven’t had the time to tear open all the candy and eat it all by myself as I was planning to. That being said, today I’ll be in introducing Corpse to the world of Japanese and Korean candy - a tighter circle of it, to be specific: the candy I grew up with.” They finally turn to Corpse again, the look on their face significantly different and a lot more pleasant compared to the one they gave him a bit ago. “So, how are you feeling, babe? Are you excited?”

Although the man’s face is blocked to the viewers, Y/N can still see him and they are pretty damn close to bursting out in a fit of laughter. “I don’t know how to feel, actually. I know you have peculiar taste so it’s either gonna be a fun experience or I’m gonna very displeased with what you’ll have me try.“

Y/N rolls their eyes, “Trust me, you won’t be.” They put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, only half humoring his nervousness, “You’ll only be trying six on camera, but my parents sent a ton more which you’ll be able to try later, ok? It was really hard for me to pick only six favorites by I don’t need this video crossing the twenty minute mark.”

With a heavy-hearted sigh, Corpse finally brings himself to rip the band-aid off and get this adventure started. “Ok cool, but don’t surprise me with anything, please. Show me what you had in mind to have me try so I can, you know, prepare myself.”

Y/N, who was busy taking out packets of candy just a moment ago suddenly stops in their movements to give him a look of disbelief, “You know none of these are poisonous, right? Like, I’m not trying to kill you or anything. There’s no cyanide, no rat poison...”

His laughter cuts them off, wrapping his arm around them and pulling them closer again, “I’m messing with you, babe. What you got for me?” He says, placing a quick kiss to their temple while sneaking a peek at the packaging of the candies they’re holding right now.

Wiggling a little looser in his grip, they first show him the three items before turning them to the camera, “These are from my mom, she sent them from Korea and they are triggering a massive wave of nostalgia right now, not gonna lie.” They giggle, adjusting the brightness a little so the products can be seen properly, “Ok so first we have the long biscuit sticks that come in many flavors but I asked for my favorite - green tea flavored, that is. Then we have Pumpkin Monaca which are probably one of my most favorite sweet treats of all time. I think you’re gonna really like them. And lastly from Korea we have these butter waffles which I used to eat for breakfast when I was running late for school - which happened often.”

Corpse snorts, “That doesn’t surprise me.”

His remark is overlooked as Y/N continues, now taking out three packets from the other package, “Now we’re moving on to my dad’s box. He didn’t disappoint either: we have soda-flavored jelly beans; Black Thunder chocolate bars which you’re only gonna steal one of because the rest are MINE; and last but definitely not least we have some classic milk candies.” Setting those down as well, they turn to Corpse yet again, this time giving his a mischievous smile that’s promising him trouble, “So, Mr. Corpse Husband, after this introduction, are you prepared to have your entire opinion o sweet food changed? And more importantly, are you prepared to develop an addiction to these treats?”

Corpse nods confidently, “Oh, I’m very prepared, thank you. Let’s just get on with it.”

Needless to say: boy, was he not as prepared as he thought he was.

It goes without saying Y/N proved their point and took the win today.

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galactic-magick · 3 years

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As Long As I’m With You: Agnes/Agatha Harkness x Reader

Request: Hi, can you please do where Agnes (a villain) saves fem reader's life because she has feelings for her? In the end they end up together // also took some ideas from this request

Summary: You’re accused of witchcraft in your village, and a mysterious beautiful witch comes to your aid.

Words: 2200+

Warnings: fem reader, Agatha is low key evil so she hurts some people, a swear word, reader has an angsty past

Author’s Notes: This can be read as either a standalone fic or as a prequel to my other fic “Spell Practice.” I took quite a lot of creative liberty with this, hopefully that’s alright. Also disclaimer I am in no way a history expert so even though this is set in like the 1500s-1600s it’s probably very inaccurate, but it’s fanfic so anything goes right?

Taglist: @nyx-aira @midnight-lestrange @thestrangeundoing @thegayances @sleep-deprived-athlete @dr-robotnik-said-hella @fallingfor-fics @p-nymph @thelanawinterrs @sunproud (if your tag didn’t work it might be bc your blog isn’t searchable so make sure that’s on so you’re notified of future fics!)

You had no idea how much your life would change when you left your house that day.

It started out with a simple run to the market and the garden to get what you needed for supper that night, a job that almost always falls to you. You don’t necessarily mind getting away from your family and talking to some people in town, but it’s clear that your family doesn’t want you in the house as much as possible either.

It’s gotten to the point where they’re just looking for a reason to get rid of you. You’re a disappointment, after all. You refuse to marry in order to help your family’s status, even though you’ve gotten a couple offers. You counter your parent’s rules and ideas every chance you get, no matter how much they tell you you’re crazy. They belittle you constantly, saying your dreams are worth nothing and you’ll have to be dependent on them forever if you never submit to the role in society you’re supposed to.

Obviously bullying you out of their lives wasn’t working, so they’ve moved on to spreading rumors about you and setting you up for crimes. None have worked yet, of course, but every day you fear they’ll get too close.

Until you get burned at the stake, though, they’ve given you basically every responsibility of the house. You do all the shopping, cooking, and farming, as well as taking care of your younger siblings. You wonder what they’d do without you, despite how much they seem to want you gone.

As you’re buying a few crops and eggs from your neighbors, you swear you see something move. You turn around and see a little boy floating in the air, screaming.

You drop everything in your arms and reach up to him, trying to grab him and help him down, but he keeps flailing, and his screams start to feel directed at you.

“Hey! It’s okay! Let me help you!” you hold your hand up, speaking as calmly as you can. “I’m not going to hurt you,”

“WITCH!” a man yells as he sees you. “SHE’S A WITCH!”

Everyone around turns and watches you.

“No! No! I’m not the one doing this! I’m trying to help!”

“Let him down and maybe we’ll wait to kill you til tomorrow!” someone else demands.

A couple people march towards you to grab you, and all you can think to do is start running.

You race out of the center of town into the trees, and about five men chase after you. You keep going until it feels like your legs are going to give out and you can barely breathe, but they keep coming.

“Please! Please stop! It wasn’t me I swear!” you cry. “I don’t know what was happening!”

“Shut up, girl,” one grunts. “Your father always said there was something wrong with you, makes sense that you’re a witch!”

“What’s so wrong about witches?” a female voice calls.

You and the men spin around, trying to figure out where it came from.

Before you can blink there’s purple smoke surrounding you, and the men are thrown against the trees. They’re knocked unconscious instantly, but you remain standing and untouched.

“Who are you?” you ask, your voice quivering.

“Don’t be afraid, my dear,” the smoke starts to fade and you can make out her silhouette, then eventually her face. “I’m here to help you,”

She’s beautiful. You’ve never seen someone that immediately feels so friendly, so different in all the best ways.

“It’s alright to stare, I know I’m quite a sight,” she laughs. “I’m Agatha,”

“I’m Y/N,”

“Ah, yes, I’m pretty sure I’ve heard of you,” she smiles. “Everyone in the village can barely stand you,”

“Thanks…?” you’re not sure how to respond, especially after all that just happened. “Wait, if you live in my village, why have I never seen you? And how come you’ve never gotten caught using magic?”

“Memory spells, of course,” she shrugs. “Now, let’s get you somewhere safe, alright?”

You nod, and she wraps an arm around you. She takes you deep into the forest until you reach a small house, the glimmer of the fire peering through the windows.

You settle down on a chair while she makes some tea and food. She offers you a blanket and hands you the cup and plate, sitting down across from you.

“So how long have you been practicing magic?” she asks.

“Oh…I…well actually I don’t know how to use any magic,”

“Really? Why were the witch hunters after you then?”

“I was set up, I think,” you say. “There was a little boy floating in the air, and since I was near him they thought it was me. But I wasn’t doing anything,”

“Well,” Agatha sips her tea. “Sometimes magic can manifest itself subconsciously. Maybe you were doing it but didn’t realize it. It’s quite common,”

“But…how would I have magical powers? I’ve never learned it from anywhere,”

“Some people are just born with the gift,” she grins.

You exhale, thinking over what she said. Could it be true? You’ve been a witch all your life without even knowing it?

That night, Agatha conjures another bed for you to sleep in. But even though she made it as comfortable as she possibly could, you can’t get a wink of sleep.

You lift off the blanket and wrap it tightly around you, getting up slowly and quietly. You walk outside and sit against a tree, looking up at the stars.

You’re sure your family has heard the news by now. Their disappointment of a daughter is finally gone, accused of witchcraft. It seems that the foreseeable future will be spent with Agatha, the only safe person you have.

You wonder just how much she already knows about you. She mentioned she’s heard people gossiping about you all the time in town, yet she still saved you after hearing all those negative things.

Why is that?

“Can’t sleep?”

You jump at her voice, and she chuckles a bit at your reaction.

“Sorry,” you sigh. “I just have a lot to think about from today, I guess,”

“No worries,” she sits down beside you. “So do I,”

“Agatha,” you say. “Why did you save me?”

“Us witches have to stick together. I saw you were in trouble, so I saved you,”

“But you knew, didn’t you? You’ve known I was a witch long before this, didn’t you?”

“I had my suspicions,” she agrees. “Whenever I heard people talk about you, I figured you weren’t like everyone else. But I didn’t know for sure until today,”

“I wish you had taken me before,” you huff, a few tears falling down your cheeks. “It’s been so bad, Agatha, feeling worthless just because you’re different, everyone hates you…”

She pulls you into her shoulder, letting you cry into it, “I know, dear, I know,”

It takes you a while to come to terms with your potential powers, but as soon as you’re ready Agatha begins to teach you how to use them. You spend your days studying her spell books and practicing simple spells, most of which you fail at.

She encourages you as much as possible, explaining to you that magic is not something you can learn overnight, sometimes not even over years. She tells you that she’s actually thousands of years old (a surprise to you due to her stunning looks) and she’s been practicing for much of that time, and there’s still some spells she hasn’t mastered.

Your impatience still gets the better of you most days, though. You can’t imagine waiting several centuries to get something to work, if you get it to work at all.

One day you’re sitting at the table, trying out a simple transfiguration spell. You wave your hand repeatedly at a potato, hoping to turn it into an apple. It doesn’t even wobble, not even a single spark, but you’ve been sitting here for hours and don’t want to give up just yet.

You nearly fall asleep from exhaustion when all of a sudden it happens. It works.

There’s an apple in front of you. Not a potato, an apple.

“Holy shit!” you scream. “Agatha! I did it!”

You run over to her and point at your small accomplishment.

“Look at you go, darling!” she smiles, hugging you. “At this rate you’ll be changing rocks into cats before you’re 200!”

You laugh, “Oh come on, this is literally just one of the beginner spells,”

“So what? That’s where everybody starts,”

You break out in giddy excitement again, jumping up and down a bit and looking back and forth just to make sure your creation is still there.

Without thinking, you kiss Agatha quickly on the lips.

She stares at you, mouth open.

Before you can apologize, she grabs your face and kisses you hard. She’s everything you’d imagined and more, soft and warm but with a spark you can’t ignore.

When you finally break apart, her hands linger, brushing across your features and in your hair, “I’ve been waiting to do that,”

Things change after that, but in only the best ways.

Agatha isn’t just your mentor anymore, the only friend who came to your aid.

She’s your everything now, a soulmate, your home.

You tell her all about your life, and she tells you all about hers. As she has significantly more stories to tell, you’ll fall asleep many nights to her whispering all the legends she lived through that no one else knows are true.

She makes you laugh every day, and makes sure you always know how much she cares about you. There’s only so much you can do in your hidden home in the woods, but with magic the possibilities are endless and she’s never short of romantic ideas.

Tonight you find yourself lying your head in her lap while she plays with your hair, close to the fire so you can watch the little shows she creates with the flames.

“What about love?” you ask.

“What about it?”

“Out of all the stories you’ve told me, you’ve never mentioned being in love before,”

“Well,” she sighs. “That’s because I haven’t been,”

“Why not?”

“It’s just never appealed to me,” she says. “Until I met you,”

“Oh,” you grin, looking up at her.

She leans down to kiss you, but you’re broken apart by a loud noise outside.

You shoot up, looking at Agatha in pure panic. Your heart races as the noise gets louder and louder, eventually leading to shouting and knocks at the door.

“WE FOUND YOU!” a booming voice yells.

“Aggie?” you whisper. Everything crumbles around you. Your perfect, happy life, now about to be stolen from you. You have no idea how they found you, if you are about to be dead, if you’ll be able to defend yourself at all.

She kisses you and stands up, “Stay here. I’ll take care of it,”

With a fling of her fingers the door flies open, and the torches the townspeople are holding are burnt out. She smirks, purple smoke covering the area as she goes through them one by one, some just throwing to the side and others suffering a painful death.

She turns their own weapons against them, their own people against them, and makes them regret everything they’ve ever done.

When she returns to you, you’re still in so much shock and panic you couldn’t tell exactly what she was doing.

“Did you…kill all of them?”

“They got what they deserved for threatening us,” she says nonchalantly. “But we’re not safe here anymore. It’s time to find somewhere new,”

“Okay,” you nod as she pulls you against her. “As long as I’m with you,”

“I’ll always protect you, even when you learn enough to protect yourself,” she kisses your forehead. “Always and forever,”

APPROXIMATELY FOUR CENTURIES LATER

“I’m back, darling!” Agatha calls, shutting the door behind her.

“How’d it go?” you run to her, grabbing her hands.

“Splendid, that poor Wanda already loves her new neighbor!”

“Wow,” you giggle. “You know I must say, this whole living in a sitcom thing isn’t that bad, you look gorgeous in that 50s dress,”

“Oh darling, somehow after all this time you still flatter me,” she pretends to fan herself. “I have to go back over real quick, alright? Gotta give her this spicy magazine,” she holds her hand up in the air and magically forms one in her grasp.

“Ah! Be sure to get some ideas to use on me when you get back,” she laugh.

“Oh I will honey,” she winks, kissing you before going out the door.

You settle on the couch, looking around at your home. Out of all the places you’ve moved to together, this was by far the weirdest. There’s no color, and everyone besides you and Agatha and Wanda are under some kind of mind control.

You never imagined that day all those years ago would bring you here, spending your life with a beautiful witch and being her partner in all things, even sinister ones. But you wouldn’t have it any other way, and you know this strange town will only bring you more opportunities to practice your magic and help Agatha with her plans.

#agatha harkness #wandavision #agatha harkness x reader #agnes x reader #wandavision spoilers #wandavision x reader

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thrillridesz · 4 years

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kissing booth ▫ jacob

➳ pairing: jacob x fem!reader ➳ genre: fluff ➳ word count: 1.5k ➳ requested?: yes

a/n: this is inspired by Netflix’s The Kissing Booth ^^ and I know it’s short, I’m sorry ><

“I can’t do this. Please, Chanhee? Don’t make me go, I promise I’ll do your homework for a month!”

Your whines fell on deaf ears as he slid the blindfold over your forehead. There was a pleading look on his face when he slapped his hands together in a praying gesture.

“C’mon y/n, do this for me?” He said, motioning to the growing line at the kissing booth. “I have no one to take the shift right now since Miyeon can’t be contacted.”

The two of you turned to look at the snaking queue and internally, you cringed as you watched a guy in line bite at his nails. Your fists were clenched at your sides and you bit out each word, “No. Way. Never in a million years. Not even if you go down on your knees and beg.”

“Why not?” He asked exasperatedly, throwing his hands in the air in frustration.

“Because firstly, it’s unhygienic. Secondly, it’s stupid. Thirdly, I have never kiss anyone in my life.” You held up three fingers and glared him down. “Three very valid and very reasonable reasons.”

“It’s for charity!”

“You couldn’t find a better way to do charity than a kissing booth?” You asked incredulously.

“Is there anyone running this booth or what?!” Someone in the crowd shouted and others began to murmur amongst themselves in agreement. Chanhee looked at you desperately and whispered, “I’m so sorry. You can murder me later if you want.”

Before you could even react, he slipped the blindfold over your eyes and shoved you out into the booth. With a yelp, you stumbled straight into a wooden counter and you mentally cursed at him. There’s no way he’s going to get away with whatever he just did. A murder is pretty much guaranteed at this point.

You could only mindlessly feel around your surroundings and you almost jumped back when you came into contact with someone’s face.

“Ah!”

“Hey, relax. Don’t freak out.” The voice was smooth and angelic, actually almost velvety like warm chocolate. You felt a shiver run down your spine but you quickly maintained a firm stance.

“Easy for you to say when you’re not the one kissing random strangers.” You retorted and there were several ‘oohs’ that followed. Is it just you or is it a lot quieter? The chatter of the crowd had died down significantly and your stomach rolled uneasily. You had a bad feeling about this.

“Just wait till I get my hands on Chanhee,” you thought angrily to yourself, already relishing the thought of closing your fingers around his neck.

The figure chuckled, his laugh soft yet resounding. Why did that laugh sound so familiar?

“Fair enough. I guess I understand that.”

You rolled your eyes which you weren’t sure why you did since whoever this guy was, he couldn’t see it and you replied, “So why are you even here at a kissing booth?”

There was a short pause as he replied, “Just because.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms.

“Just because? What kind of an answer is that?”

“An answer in response to your question, that’s what it is.” You could hear the smile in his voice and internally, you fumed. Whoever this is, he’s getting on your nerves.

“You’re just some sort of creep, I bet. Kissing random girls and taking advantage of them while they’re blindfolded.” You shot back venomously and there were several gasps from the crowd. You briefly heard someone whisper out loud, “Did she really just say that to...”

You couldn’t hear the last part no matter how hard you strained but you felt your heart sink as fear crept in. Who is this person in front of you right now and how does he have such an effect over everyone else? You gripped on tightly to the counter, your heart beginning to pound. What if this guy is some big, burly figure nobody wants to mess with? You probably just inadvertently signed your own death certificate.

You tried to keep your voice steady as you asked, “Who are you?”

“Does that matter? You have the blindfold on for a reason.” The reply annoyed you but at the same time, it scared you as well. Showing any signs of fear at this point would just work against your case.

“Woman up, y/n.” You thought.

“Ok, you know what? Quit wasting my time, I’m done. Chanhee!” Reaching up to take off your blindfold, you turned to leave but before you could even touch them, you felt a strong hand grip around your wrist and pull you forward. It was a split second before you felt soft lips against yours, kissing you ever so softly.

The kiss sent shivers through your body and you felt a slight tingle. Your heart soared as you subconsciously let yourself revel in the kiss. The mysterious figure’s lips moved expertly over yours and you couldn’t help but slip out a soft moan in response. The grip on your wrist tightened at that and his tongue slipped in as you moaned. To say the kiss was intense would be an understatement. It was mind blowing on a lot of different levels and if passion can be defined by something physical, this would be it. Instinctively, the hand around your wrist loosened and went up to cup your face. His hands were warm and you leaned into it despite yourself, hating the fact that you loved the way he held your face but unable to tear yourself away from the kiss.

Instinctively, your hands flew up and your fingers tangled themselves in his hair. You could smell his subtle cologne, a sharp minty scent that was both refreshing and soothing. There were whistles and hoots of encouragement from the crowd as the two of you remained locked in the kiss. It felt like ages before the two of you separated, gasping for air.

This wasn’t how you envisioned you would lose your first kiss but you would be a liar if you said this wasn’t good. In fact, it was excellent. You had grown up watching romantic movies and whenever the kiss scenes did come up, you always dismissed them as being fake or exaggerated but now you understood that they weren’t. A kiss could be just as passionate and just as intense as they portray in the movies. You made a mental note to rewatch all the movies you had stashed away.

As you tried to catch your breath, you felt a certain sort of disappointment in you and you stiffened. Oh, no. You felt yourself craving his lips again and even though you had no idea who this was, you found that you didn't care. You just wanted to kiss him again.

“That was... Something.” He whispered in a breathy voice that you would have normally found weird on other people but on him, it sounded sensual.

“Y-yeah, it w-was.” You stuttered, speechless and unsure of what to say. You have to know who this person is. Gingerly, you reached up to remove your blindfolds and this time, he didn't stop you.

It took a moment for your eyes to adjust to the bright lights around you but when they did, you almost fell back in shock.

Standing right before you was Jacob Bae. Jacob. Fucking. Bae. Your crush.

So that was why people were whispering. You had just had your first kiss with the school’s most popular boy, the golden boy if you will. One of the most talented people, known widely for his angelic voice that you couldn’t believe you had not noticed. You had seen him around in school but never had the guts to approach him. He was practically unapproachable after all, not because of his personality but rather because there were so many people around him all the time. He knew a lot of people and therefore, he was never without friends. You on the other hand, had only your best friend Chanhee. You longed to be able to talk to Jacob and as you stood gaping in front of him, you felt your face heat up rapidly.

You just kissed your crush, Jacob.

Jacob stood awkwardly before you, scratching the back of his neck as he peered up shyly.

“I hope you like what you see?”

Is he for real?

“Wait, is this real?” You asked dazedly, still unable to believe what just happened.

He looked at you in confusion before replying hesitantly, “Yes?”

“Oh my god.” You covered your mouth shakily and you actually had to grip on to his arm to keep from collapsing. Great. Right after you kiss your crush, you’re now going to faint. What a lovely impression you will make.

“Hey, are you ok?” His expression was one of concern as he leaped over the counter easily. How did he do that so effortlessly?

“Yeah...Actually, no. I’m... I’m not fine. I just kissed Jacob Bae, the school’s golden boy. How can I be fine?” The words came out in a rush before you could think them through and you covered your mouth, embarrassment washing over you.

His eyes widened in surprise but then quickly softened as a bright smile tugged playfully on his lips.

“That should have been my line.” He said.

Turning to him in shock, you almost shrieked, “What?”

There was a pause before he replied bashfully, “I just kissed y/n. The girl I’ve had a crush on since forever ago and I have no idea how I’m still standing.”

583 notes · View notes

violetwolfraven · 3 years

Text

Modern!Wormsies Headcanons because I’m terrified wormsies is going to die before 2021 gets here

Tw for mild horror. I don’t think this is that bad but read at your own risk. I don’t l know why I created it I just felt compelled to but don’t read it unless you’re as insane as I am and are fully prepared to read the most cursed thing I have ever created. Seriously. This is by far the most cursed thing I have ever written. Good luck. 💜

So anyway they’re not selling to survive obviously since it’s modern au.

In my modern au they’re all theatre nerds cause why not.

So they’re backstage one day and Race finds this blue thing behind an old set that has probably been there for several years.

Lo and behold, it is a worm on a string.

And Race is kinda weirded out and wondering who left it there but he’s like aight guess I’m keeping this thing.

He ties it to a strap on his backpack and forgets about it for the rest of rehearsal.

Then Romeo (one of Race’s 3 adoptive brothers, the others being Jack and Crutchie) notices it and f l i p s o u t.

Romeo drags over Specs and Jack and Crutchie to show them the worm Race found and they’re all like omg this is the best thing we’ve ever seen.

Race is still kinda confused but like hey whatever this might as well happen and he just figures if his brothers and his little brother’s boyfriend are gonna obsess over worms, why not join in?

They all get worms somehow. Romeo gets a green one, Specs gets a purple one, Jack gets a dark blue one, and Crutchie gets a yellow one.

When they all show up to rehearsal a few days later with worms, a few others pick up on it and are like lmao let’s join in on the insanity.

So anyway Albert gets a red one, Smalls gets a green one, Mike gets a purple one, Ike gets a yellow one cause it’s the opposite of purple, and Elmer gets a green one.

All the others are all kinda just whatever do what you want don’t involve us in your insanity.

BUT THEN

Over the course of the next couple weeks, only a couple more people join in on getting worms.

Sniper gets a purple one and Finch gets an orange one.

But what’s strange is that everybody starts noticing...

The kids with worms pick up choreography...

Faster and Better...

Than the kids without worms...

They’re stretchier and more agile...

...almost like..?

Almost like...

They...

don’t...

have...

spines..?

They wiggle just like their worms wiggle wiggle wiggle.

And Specs is the most logical of the ones with worms but even he fully believes his worm gives him special powers.

They spend their snack breaks talking about this and a few more people decide to get in on it.

Jojo gets a yellow one, Mush gets a dark blue one, and Blink gets a light blue one.

Davey, Spot, and Katherine still refuse to believe in this.

Sarah got a pink worm and they were all terribly disappointed in her.

But anyway they hold out their lack of belief despite how the kids with worms continue to perform better in dance numbers than the few left without.

Kenny caves and gets a dark blue one somewhere in here.

There are now a lot more kids with worms than kids without and the holidays are rolling around.

Ike gets Hotshot a red worm and Hotshot in turn gets red worms for all his crowd on the stage crew (Bart, Rafaela, Joey, Hildy, York, and Vince).

Hell, even the crew kids perform better with worms, it turns out.

Cause they can run fast to get places they need to be and squeeze through spaces they shouldn’t be able to squeeze through.

But anyway Katherine and Davey and Spot are starting to get a little creeped out.

Cause their friends and partners are starting to act more and more like they’re in a cult, even more than the cult that they’re already in (the drama club).

They pretend their worms have fucking personalities and make tiny hats for them and stuff.

And the ones left without worms are dropping like flies and getting assimilated to the other side.

Buttons gets a light blue one, Tommy Boy gets a pink one, Henry gets an orange one, and

And Sarah gets Les a green worm.

That’s kinda the last straw for Davey.

He fucking waits until his siblings are asleep and he throws their worms in the trash.

But mysteriously

They both have their worms back in time for rehearsal.

And Davey gets home that night and there’s a light blue worm waiting on his pillow.

He throws it away but it’s tied to his backpack strap the next day.

He flushes it down the toilet and it shows up in his favorite hoodie pocket.

He tells Katherine and Spot, super freaked out, but they don’t really believe him cause there’s no such thing as magic worms... right?

Then Katherine finds a purple worm on the seat she usually sits in during breaks.

She’s moderately creeped out so she leaves it there and goes to a different seat but the next break the worm is on that seat.

She can’t remember seeing anyone move it.

Meanwhile Spot is making out with Race behind a curtain (obviously) and Race

Race fucking pulls a red worm out of his sleeve like a scarf trick and gives it to him.

Spot is super weirded out by this and wants to just throw the dumb thing away the minute he and Race are done making out, but he just...

He can’t.

He can’t get rid of the worm, so he ties it to his backpack.

Katherine and Davey are mildly horrified that Spot has given in and won’t give up his worm even though you’re encouraging their cult-like behavior, Spot, come on.

Spot insists that he could throw away his worm if he wanted to, he just... doesn’t want to. And besides, he can keep up with the others on theatre stuff now, so why would he?

So Kath and Davey are

The

Last

Ones

Left

Without worms.

Davey’s worm is still following him around but he refuses to give in and he always gets rid of it as soon as he finds it but it always pops up again.

Katherine’s shows up less frequently, but it starts getting more and more frequent and she starts getting more and more freaked out as one night, she goes into her room and that fucking purple worm is on her pillow.

None of her friends have been to her house in the last 24 hours so this development is fucking terrifying.

She calls Davey and flips out on the phone to him about it and he’s trying to calm her down but Sarah ends up stealing his phone after a few minutes because she’s my girlfriend, Davey, not yours.

When Davey gets the phone back, Katherine is significantly calmer. He asks her if she threw the worm away.

She

Didn’t

Throw the worm away.

She claims it’s fine, that they might as well give in, Davey, we’re the last ones left without worms, just out of stubbornness. And anyway our friends with worms are doing fine; look at your siblings if you need proof.

Sarah and Les are having a tea party with their worms and Davey is getting pretty scared at this point.

He’s the last one left without a worm, though that blue one still always seems to show up wherever he is.

Until

Opening night

Their

Show

Afterwards everybody’s pumped up and ready to go to Applebee’s to celebrate and Davey is relieved because no one has mentioned worms in the last 24 hours or even really looked at the ones still tied to their backpacks.

He thinks maybe the others got bored with it and this thing is finally dying, especially since that damn light blue worm hasn’t showed up today either.

But then Davey is just sharing a nice coffee alone with Jack backstage (which he hasn’t done since the worm thing started because honestly his boyfriend was creeping him out).

Jack suddenly starts crying, and Davey’s all like hey what is it? Babe look at me what’s wrong?

And Jack just goes I’m sorry love I know it hurts now but it’s better in the long run trust me.

That’s when Elmer, Specs, Sarah, and Mush burst in behind them and grab Davey, shoving a bag over his head and dragging him somewhere.

When the bag is taken off of Davey’s head, he’s tied to a chair in the middle of a choir room that all his friends have somehow squeezed into.

They’re all holding their worms.

And Davey is like guys if this is an elaborate prank it wasn’t even that funny to begin with but now it is very very much not funny.

But Sarah just goes in a sad tone it’s not a prank Davey.

Les not looking like he’s trying not to laugh is what makes Davey believe it’s not a prank.

And Davey is legitimately terrified at this point because even Spot and Katherine are looking at him with a solemn kind of pity and when he asks them for help they just shake their heads and tell him everything will be okay.

He turns to Jack and is still clinging to that last little bit of hope that one of the people he loves might not have gone off the deep end.

That last little bit of hope that the boy he loves is still the boy I fell for. I know you’re still in there so please just untie me Jackie.

Jack looks like he’s trying not to cry but he doesn’t move.

Instead he says I love you Davey. It’ll all be over soon.

Do it, Race.

Race steps forward and Davey just about has a heart attack because

He’s

Holding

That

Goddamn

Light blue

Worm

And he takes some rainbow duct tape out of his pocket and tapes it to Davey’s shirt.

And the others all start chanting one of us one of us one of us as Davey can practically feel the spine leave his body and travel to another dimension where there’s a man who collects them.

It turns out the others were right that he should just give in.

Now it’s time for them to get the rest of the school.

Edit: here is my attempt to justify myself for this. 💜

126 notes · View notes

five-rivers · 3 years

Text

Long Night in the Valley Chapter 13

The car didn’t seem more crowded, but it was. Spinner had the dubious honor and privilege of being in one of Mr. Compress’s marbles, along with the doctor. Midoriya Inko sat in his recently vacated seat.

She was, without a single doubt, the most dangerous person in the vehicle. Mostly because she was completely insane. She had spent the first few minutes of driving detailing how she could blow up the car with her quirk and making sure that they knew she’d do it if she thought she had to.

What would make her think she ‘had to’ was a mystery Tomura didn’t particularly want solved.

He could totally see what Sensei saw in her, and he didn’t like it. He wished he could go back to ignorance. This questline was insane. The whole game was going to wind up broken. Had he killed an essential NPC at some point?

Eyeballs were small objects. So were most organs.

Midoriya Inko was someone Tomura could respect.

Would Midoriya Izuku be like this, if Tomura had an actual conversation with him? Their conversation at the mall hadn’t exactly been… normal. Tomura could admit he’d been using his intimidation skill to move the conversation along. Of course, Midoriya had struck him as a two-dimensional All Might fanboy at that point. Limited dialogue options. Killed in the next encounter. A hidden miniboss, yes, but just a miniboss. Not terribly important to the main campaign. Forgotten by disc two.

Clearly, he’d been wrong.

Which he shouldn’t have had mixed feelings about, but definitely did.

“Dear,” said Midoriya Inko, making everyone in the car stiffen, “do you have eczema?”

“The what?” asked Tomura, his tone too subdued to be considered snapping, because he wasn’t about to snap at someone who had convincingly demonstrated her ability to crush his organs against the inside of his abdominal cavity.

“Oh!” said Toga. “I know this one, Mom! It’s a skin condition.”

Tomura pulled his hand away from where it had been scratching at his neck. “I don’t have a skin condition. It just itches sometimes.”

Midoriya Inko nodded. “Yes, that sounds like eczema, I—” She stopped, blinking. “Did you just call me ‘Mom?’”

“Yeah, is that okay? Izu-kun and I are dating, after all!”

“No, she isn’t!” shouted Twice, the car swerving a little. “She is not! Only in her dreams!”

“Ah,” said Midoriya Inko. “I see. Well, I don’t mind you calling me that, but I think you really need to ask Izuku before you say that you’re dating. Make sure you’re on the same page, dear.”

Toga pouted.

“Now, where was I? Eczema. Izuku used to have eczema, but he grew out of it, mostly. I still carry some cream with me. Do you want some?”

Would refusing be dangerous?

Was the cream secretly poison?

Was this a complex scheme to get under his skin?

“Oh, Izuku mutters like that, too,” said Midoriya Inko, happily. “You remind me quite a bit of when he was going through his antisocial phase, actually. It would be funny if it turned out that you were related, wouldn’t it? Quite a coincidence, hm? One I’ll have to talk to my husband about.” The last sentence was as hard as diamonds and as poisonous as cyanide.

Tomura once again decided that he regretted everything.

“This is terrible,” whispered Tsuyu for the fifth or sixth time.

“Tres mal,” agreed Aoyama.

“Is it bad that I can completely believe All Might wrote this?” asked Satou.

“Why would it be bad?” asked Shouji.

“Because it’s so… bad.”

“And yet,” said Yaoyorozu, “oddly compelling.”

“Why does he use so much English?” grumbled Mineta.

“What a mad banquet of darkness,” said Fumikage, who was, nevertheless, also reading the fanfic on his phone.

“But, like, it makes it pretty obvious that All Might thinks the world of Midoriya,” said Kaminari. “Do you think he knew that other people could read this?”

“I mean,” said Jiro. “He had to, right? It wasn’t like he was born in the nineteen hundreds.”

“I don’t know, sometimes you’ve got to wonder. Like… sometimes it’s as if he was grown in a lab to be the perfect hero, you know?”

“Kaminari, stop trying to be Todoroki, please,” said Fumikage. “You do not need to dip yourself into the darkness.”

“I’m just saying,” said Kaminari. “And it isn’t as if we don’t know that there are a bunch of mad scientist types that would do just that, plus the Hero Commission is psychotic—”

“That’s unkind to psychotic people,” said Fumikage, glowering. “You know, most psychotic people never hurt anyone. The incidence of villainy among people who experience psychosis isn’t significantly higher than among the general population.”

“Sorry, man, just a figure of speech.”

The bus slowly came to a stop outside UA’s gates.

“My switch isn’t working,” said Green Light as he repeatedly pressed a button on his dash. “I guess they’re still on lockdown. We’ll have to wait for Nezu to come let us in.”

“Still?” asked Midnight. “Midoriya isn’t even in the city anymore, as far as we know.”

“Not that he was ever a threat to the school,” mumbled Present Mic, his quirk making him loud enough to be heard regardless.

Fumikage, having finished the fanfic some time ago, looked out the window and spotted two people in suits loitering near the gate. “Yamada-sensei, Kayama-sensei, who are those people?”

Everyone rushed over to Fumikage’s side of the bus to look out the window, rocking the vehicle.

“Ohh,” said Present Mic. “Yeah. That makes sense. Those guys are with the commission. Yep. Good ol’ Nezu, keeping them out.”

“Wait,” said Jiro, “does this mean we’re stuck out here, too?”

“No, no,” said Present Mic. “He’ll have to let us in… But then they’ll come in, too.”

“Midoriya’s room,” said Fumikage. “They’ll want to search it.”

“Can we do something?” asked Kouda, timidly.

“Should we do anything?” asked Tsuyu, bluntly. “We don’t want to incriminate Midoriya even more by making it look like he’s hiding things.”

Fumikage turned to Kaminari. “Anything new from Principal Nezu?”

“Why are you looking at me?”

“You’re the one he emailed last time.”

“Hey, Fumikage,” said Jiro, “do you think you can fly over the wall? Maybe you can get a head start on… well, whatever, I guess.”

“I don’t think we should do anything suspicious while they’re watching,” reiterated Tsuyu.

“Yeah, plus we really revamped campus security. And this is Nezu we’re talking about.”

“The Rat God,” someone whispered, reverently.

(Was that Shouji?)

“Exactly, exactly,” said Present Mic. “So, everyone, just, please, calm down. Just sit back down, and we’ll ride the bus to the dorms. Like normal.”

“Yamada-sensei, nothing about this is normal,” said Tsuyu, flatly.

“Well,” said Present Mic, “yeaaaah, okay, you got me there, listeners.”

“Nezu’s coming up,” said Green Light. “Aw, he has Eri with him. They’re so short together.”

“Green Light,” crackled the radio in Nezu’s voice. “Did you forget that I have cameras and microphones installed on all our buses?”

“That’s how he knew I was the one putting together the compilation!” said Kaminari.

Fumikage peered out the window and furtively opened it, so they could hear what was going on. Eri was definitely there. She was also sporting the deepest, most dismal, aura of darkness Fumikage had ever laid eyes on. Luckily, it seemed to be aimed at the commission lackeys in the form of a smile and dead, dead eyes.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen!” said Nezu, cheerily. “I apologize for the long wait! As Lunch Rush indubitably told you, we had a small emergency.”

“We’ve been out here for hours. What kind of emergency could have kept you for hours under these circumstances?”

Eri’s smile grew both broader and deader. “Me,” she said. “I’m the emergenny.”

“Emergency,” corrected Nezu, gently.

“Emergency,” repeated Eri.

“I’m sorry?” said the shorter of the two investigators.

“I’m the emergency. I hada—” she paused, and her face pinched slightly in concentration. “I had an emergency, because, because, you’re being mean to Deku.”

“We—”

“You’re mean,” insisted Eri. “You’re bad guys. Deku is the good guy, because he saved me. Only bad guys are mean to good guys.”

“Excuse me, is this Chisaki Eri?”

Eri hissed.

“Perhaps I could ask you to refrain from using that family name. We’ve been trying to get past what her form did to her, you understand. Teach her morality.”

“I’ll bite you,” said Eri, malevolently.

“Self-defense, as well,” continued Nezu. “It’s very important for children to be able to feel safe and confident in themselves, don’t you think? And the recent news dealt a serious blow to that. You understand, then why I felt that it was more important to take care of my ward and other students than to greet you here. Especially given that you wished to interview Eri-chan as well.”

“I’ll bite you,” repeated Eri. “A lot.”

“We’ll… need a look at Midoriya’s room, first.”

“Way to go, Eri,” whispered Shinsou.

“Very well! You’ll have to come around to the front office to fill out some paperwork. We’ll need a physical copy of your badges, as well as a copy of your warrant, for our records…”

The gate opened, distracting Fumikage from whatever else Nezu had said. Green Light quickly drove through, making straight to the dorms. Fumikage snapped the window shut.

“So, uh,” said Kaminari. “What’re we going to do about Midoriya’s All Might shrine of a room?”

“Should we even do anything?” asked Jiro. “If stuff is disturbed, that’s going to be suspicious. I don’t want to get him into more trouble.”

“It’s a teenage boy’s bedroom,” said Mineta. “The stuff in there is already disturbed.”

“Mineta, I don’t know how to tell you this,” said Kaminari, “but your experiences are not universal.”

“None of you are disturbing Midoriya’s room at all,” said Midnight, standing. “You didn’t forget that we were here, did you? If you say yes, we’ll have to take some time to work on your situational awareness~”

Nemuri hadn’t quite known what to expect from the words ‘All Might shrine.’ In her experiences, the word ‘shrine’ could, especially when applied to a person’s hobby or area of interest, could cover a vast array of displays of varying intensity.

But Midoriya really went Plus Ultra on everything, didn’t he?

“Okay, kiddos,” said Midnight, “what would you say was the most incriminating thing in this room?”

She and Present Mic were the only ones actually in the room, but the students were gathered right outside the door.

“Notebooks.”

Midnight nodded. They’d get those first, then search for other places Midoriya may have put evidence of less-than-entirely-morally-upright behavior. Not that Midnight really expected to find any.

“Where does he keep them?” she asked.

“He has a shelf above his desk he usually keeps them on, kero.”

Midnight looked at the shelf above Midoriya’s desk.

It looked back at her.

This was because it was a void. As in, void of any notebooks. An abyss of sorts. Empty.

There were no notebooks in evidence.

“This will be a problem.”

“G-Gigantomachia?” asked Izuku, turning up the sweetness in his tone despite his nerves. And pain. Yep, there was a whole lot of pain, everywhere. Now that he was no longer actively running for his life, it felt like he’d pulled every muscle in his body.

“Yes, Little Lord?” asked Gigantomachia, happily.

He was like a giant dog. Izuku almost felt bad tricking him like this, but he reminded himself that Gigantomachia was a giant, evil dog. So.

“Will you do something for me?”

“Of course, Little Lord!”

“Well,” said Izuku, “you remember how I said that Shigaraki Tomura and I don’t get along?”

“Yes, Little Lord! My memory is very good!”

Izuku blinked. “Is that a—” He cut himself off with a shake of his head. Not the time. “Well, I think that it might be a good idea if, ah, we established that he can’t attack me anymore.”

Gigantomachia stood up, shaking the earth and almost sending Izuku tumbling down. “HE ATTACKED YOU?”

Maybe this would be easier than he thought. “Yeah. A couple times. I’m okay, though!” He waved his hands. “I just think that it might be a good idea if we established a, uh, a pecking order. Sort of.”

“I’M GOING TO PECK HIM TO DEATH.”

“Please do not actually kill him.”

“I’M GOING TO PECK HIM MOSTLY TO DEATH.”

“That’s the spirit,” said Izuku.

“I’LL SHOW HIM YOU’RE IN CHARGE. YOU’RE MUCH BETTER THAN HE IS. MUCH MORE LIKE LORD.”

Wow. That was… certainly a statement. That Izuku was going to try his best to forget forever.

“Right. So. If you see him, do that,” said Izuku, nodding.

“OF COURSE, LITTLE LORD.”

“And, this is just a reminder, but don’t go into towns.”

“I WILL REMEMBER!”

“Great,” said Izuku. “I’m going to go back in and, uh…” He couldn’t say ‘plot my escape with Toshinori.’ “Rest,” he settled on.

“Oh!” Gigantomachia crouched down, his voice suddenly whisper-soft. Assuming rocks could be described as whispering. “Sleep well, Little Lord!”

“Thanks,” said Izuku, beating a hasty retreat.

“Stop the car!”

“But you said-!”

“Just stop the car, Twice.”

There was a not-at-all hidden ‘or else’ in those words. Twice, once again, stopped the car.

“Oh, my,” said Midoriya Inko, leaning forward. “That man up there looks remarkably like the sitter Hisashi hired for Izuku.”

“Oh, god,” said Tomura, dragging his hands down the sides of his face in lieu of looking out the window. “We aren’t prepared for this level.”

Midoriya Inko suddenly disappeared. Tomura made a noise in the back of his throat that wasn’t at all a scream.

Mr. Compress raised his hands defensively. “I thought it best to marble her while she was distracted. We wouldn’t want her to get injured in ”

“Wow! Way to go, Mr. Compress!” said Toga, giving the other villain a hug. “Good thinking!”

“Yeah!” agreed Twice. “Now she can’t hurt us—But she sure can when you let her out!”

“Which is why I propose we bring her to Giran at the first feasible opportunity. Between him and the doctor, I’m sure they can make arrangements for her that we need not be involved in. And I will make sure we are all far, far away when I let her out.”

There was a series of sighs of relief.

“Good idea,” croaked Tomura. “But what are we going to do about—” He swore vehemently. “He’s seen us, he’s seen us we’ve got aggro! Reverse!”

“Is that Vlad-sensei’s car?”

“Unfortunately,” said Toshinori, “I think it is. Oh, dear, the man’s one to hold a grudge. I think I’ll have a new nemesis by the end of this.”

Today had been a very annoying day in general for Vlad King, but for some reason, his sense of annoyance suddenly doubled. This made his hands clench and thereby tear the piece of paper he was holding.

Scratch that. His sense of annoyance had tripled.

“Yagi,” he muttered, “I am going to sue you so much.”

“What was that?” asked Hound Dog, looking away from the video feed displaying Eri-chan scarring Hero Commission agents for life in her undeniably cute way.

“Nothing,” muttered Vlad.

All for One paused in his assault of the vault door. He couldn’t help but feel like someone somewhere had said something unusually aggravating.

Ah, well. He had other things to worry about.

“Ah,” said Toshinori as one of Gigantomachia’s fists tore off the bumper of the rapidly reversing car. “Hm,” he continued as Shigaraki climbed out on the hood, grinning. “I think we should go, now.”

Izuku nodded. They could only hope to get far away enough away for Gigantomachia to be unable to hunt them down.

If they ran into any other problems…

Dabi paused as he heard quite a lot of noise from up ahead and rolled his eyes, ignoring how the movement pulled at his staples. The idiots had already started fighting Gigantomachia. Well. He didn’t want any part of that.

He changed directions. Hanging out in the woods it was, then.

Eh. It was good for him. Fresh (cold) air. Sunshine (sort of). Readily available reminders of why he hated his father.

Nature was great. If only he could burn it all down without blowing cover.

“Oh, no,” said a hapless technician.

“What?” asked the commission supervisor who’d brough the sample to the lab. “What is it? Is he related to the Scourge of Kamino?”

“Well,” squeaked the woman, her mousy ears twitching. “Yes. But I ran him through a few other databases as well, and…” she trailed off. “Well… The number of cross references in the hero database is staggering, but, of course, if he’s related to them, and to the other, well…”

The commission supervisor grabbed the edge of her monitor and twisted it around to face him. She watched the blood drain from his face and refrained from calling him out on his rudeness.

“Why,” he asked, “didn’t they run the Scourge of Kamino’s DNA through these databases?”

“I guess they didn’t think it was necessary?”

“Excuse me,” he said, “I have to make a few calls.”

“You want us to attack the League of Villains now?” asked Hawks, frowning. “You’ve had me following them around for weeks, and you want us to go in now, with next to no preparation? We don’t even know if the rest of the League is with Dabi.”

What had they found out from Midoriya’s blood sample? Had it turned out the way Dabi had expected.

Was Midoriya Izuku the son of All for One?

“Alright, alright,” he said in response to his handler. He sighed deeply, leaning back to better look at the sky. “But even I’m going to need a couple hours to get everything together and start coordinating with other heroes. I’m—Sir, I really don’t think I’m going to be able to take them all on just with myself and my sidekicks. Midoriya probably isn’t with them to begin with—I’m not questioning you, sir. I just don’t understand our objective in attacking them now. Why are we rushing? It seems counterpro—Yes, sir.” The line beeped loudly as it disconnected.

Well. All this had been a monumental waste of time.

It also boded ill for Midoriya. It sounded as if he’d become an even greater target than before, and considering that the commission had been labeling him a villain even before testing his DNA… Something bigger than being related to All for One must have come out. Something that had scared the commission. Something they would scrap their stealth- and intelligence-based plan for dealing with the League for. Something they wanted gone. Locked away with Midoriya.

Hawks couldn’t imagine what that could be. Maybe he was related to All Might? Or Endeavor? All Might wouldn’t be bad, he was never publicly in a relationship, but then he’d always been private about his personal life. But Endeavor… that’d be a scandal and a half.

But, if either of those were the case, why were they so sure he’d be with the League of Villains? It didn’t make sense. Unless… Unless Midoriya wasn’t the only one related to All for One.

At least they weren’t asking him to kill the kid. The mission was capture.

Which meant that Hawks had to come up with some way of letting an injured and probably exhausted teenager and a severely disabled old man escape without looking like he was letting them escape. Or looking like an incompetent idiot. Again. Because he wasn’t about to bring Midoriya in under circumstances this shady. Maybe before, when he thought it was just trumped-up kidnapping charges, but with this uncertainty…

Commission lackey or not, Hawks was still a hero. Sometimes that meant he put aside personal feelings for the good of society, and sometimes it meant that he ignored orders so a minor wouldn’t be indefinitely imprisoned at a commission black site.

Fun times.

He sighed and gathered in his feathers, angling down into a dive. Time to get to work.

Ochako kept seeing things out of the corners of her eye. Shadow in the shape of people, in the shape of children. Stains on the walls.

The hallways were scrupulously clean. Spotless. Empty. Brightly lit.

Todoroki had mentioned smelling smoke a few times and had started gagging for no reason once or twice. Iida kept twitching as if he had heard something. Aizawa appeared unaffected, but Ochako could see the way he gripped his capture weapon and the rigidness of his spine.

Izuku looked resigned.

“Did they really—” started Iida.

“Yes,” said Izuku. “Almost certainly.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Todoroki.

“You’re only getting fragments of Three’s memories, since she’s suppressing this,” said Izuku. “But…” He twitched, slightly. “It’s going to get worse the farther we go. The places she was in…” His voice was soft, sing-song, not quite entirely there.

“Izuku?”

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I’m focusing on something else outside.”

“Please tell me you aren’t fighting pro heroes again,” said Aizawa.

“No, I’m escaping from the League of Villains right now.”

“How?”

“Mm. Great question. I’ll tell you how it goes later, if it works.”

“That’s not what I—”

An ear-splitting, bone-chilling scream filled the air, making everyone flinch and clench. Something crackled overhead.

“Incident response team to hallway C. Code Blue.”

More screaming. This time, Ochako had a better idea of where it was coming from, and it seemed like everyone else, did, too.

They ran past classrooms that were alternately empty and full of shadow people, past soulless dormitory rooms stuffed with bunk beds, past cells and rooms Ochako didn’t even want to think about.

A pair of dark-skinned girls stood in the hallway, one holding a bloody hand to her throat, the other baring her teeth. The lights flickered. Dimmed.

The girls were gone by the time the lights came back on.

The hallway they were in was full of operating theaters, complete with lights over the door. Ochako felt sick.

But she was used to dealing with nausea. She took a deep breath and swallowed.

“What now?” she asked. The quaver in her voice was barely audible.

“Now…” Aizawa turned slowly in place. “We’re trying to find where they met Ryuji.”

“Two,” said Izuku, nodding.

“So, the most likely place for that…” He trailed off. “The most likely place for that is in the… residential areas.” He sounded disgusted with himself for referring to a prison with such bland terms.

“We passed something like that,” said Todoroki, quietly.

“Right,” said Aizawa. “Let’s go.”

The way back was much more… crowded. The memories were more tangible. Ochako quickly taught herself not to look in any of the rooms. Not that it helped much with what they saw in the halls themselves.

Izuku’s distraction only grew worse as they went further. He kept trying to follow, or sometimes fight, the memory ghosts.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “Focusing on something else.”

“Just don’t die on us, problem child.”

“We’re doing okay,” said Izuku.

This was, of course, when the facility’s alarm went off.

“Intruder alert. Intruder alert. Intruder alert.”

Izuku couldn’t hear the sound of the fight between the League and Machia anymore. This meant that either the fighting had stopped, or they had moved out of earshot.

Despite the League having a car (Vlad-sensei’s car) Izuku doubted that the fight had gotten all that far away.

Next to him, Toshinori winced. Izuku looked at him with concern, but Toshinori waved it off.

Izuku took a shaky breath.

They just had to keep going.

Twice had, perhaps predictably, backed the car up into a ditch, where, despite the amount of pressure he put on the accelerator, it stayed. Stuck. Perhaps forever.

All members of the League of Villains that were not crazy enough to crawl onto the outside of a moving car to fight a homicidal giant climbed out. All members, meaning a single member. A single member, ironically, being Twice.

At least he hadn’t been going very fast when he ran into the ditch.

“Everyone okay? –Of course, they’re not! You were in a car crash, idiots!”

“Come help us fight!” ordered Shigaraki. “We were in the middle of something, you know, stupid level boss! Keep having to save scum I hate you aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!”

Well, that wasn’t a good sign.

“Where’s Himiko?” he shouted.

“Over here, silly!” said the second Shigaraki, because, yeah. Twice had forgotten he hadn’t duplicated Shigaraki.

Man, he was dumb sometimes. It was great he had friends to help him with that!

He dove into the fight which, ever so slightly, ever so slowly, began to move away from the car.

Izuku’s head throbbed sharply, and he stumbled, Toshinori just managing to catch him before he faceplanted. Four and the other past users hissed at him from the back of his mind.

Someone’s coming. Hide.

They were in no condition for another fight.

Toshinori nodded sharply, and pulled Izuku aside, into some bushes. Izuku tried to breathe quietly but was painfully aware that both he and Toshinori were out of breath and raspy. Ragged. They’d been aiming for speed, not stealth, counting on the sounds of combat to cover them.

But if someone was out here—

Izuku smelled smoke. A branch snapped. He held his breath, despite the way his lungs longed for more oxygen. Had Dabi been in the car? Izuku hadn’t seen him. He hadn’t seen any blue fire. It wasn’t like Dabi to hold back.

A pair of black booted feet came into view.

“Well, well, what do we have here?”

They found Two standing in a hallway, surrounded by the bodies of soldiers. A small horde of shadow children clung to his legs.

When he laid eyes on Izuku, he sighed.

“Does the world ever give you a break?” he asked.

“Not that I’ve noticed,” said Izuku.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #fic #fanfic #long night in the valley

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blackjack-15 · 3 years

Text

The Weight of Living — Thoughts on: The Deadly Device (DED)

Previous Metas: SCK/SCK2, STFD, MHM, TRT, FIN, SSH, DOG, CAR, DDI, SHA, CUR, CLK, TRN, DAN, CRE, ICE, CRY, VEN, HAU, RAN, WAC, TOT, SAW, CAP, ASH, TMB

Hello and welcome to a Nancy Drew meta series! 30 metas, 30 Nancy Drew Games that I’m comfortable with doing meta about. Hot takes, cold takes, and just Takes will abound, but one thing’s for sure: they’ll all be longer than I mean them to be.

Each meta will have different distinct sections: an Introduction, an exploration of the Title, an explanation of the Mystery, a run-through of the Suspects. Then, I’ll tackle some of my favorite and least favorite things about the game, and finish it off with ideas on how to improve it. For this meta, like TMB, there will be an extra section entitled “The Theme” between The Mystery and The Suspects.

If any game requires an extra section or two, they’ll be listed in the paragraph above, along with my list of previous metas.

These metas are not spoiler free, though I’ll list any games/media that they might spoil here: DED, TMB; brief mentions of FIN, SSH, and ICE; brief mention of Iron Man (2008).

The Intro:

First off, this meta was supposed to be uploaded well over a week ago, and I apologize; life and health kind of got in the way, but it should be more constant for these last 3 metas.

I hope.

Like I mentioned with the last meta, this will be kind of a companion/two-piece meta with TMB. Where TMB focused on the effects of the dead on the living, DED instead focuses on the living’s effects on the dead — the dead in this case being Niko Jovic, of course. Let’s dive into that, shall we?

Just like how everything in TMB was dead, everything (other than Niko, rest in peace) in the lab is alive. The lab is full of people, of research — “living knowledge” in other words — of live wires and electricity, and is constantly growing and changing, just like a living organism does. With all this life present, the game is mostly concerned with how the living affect Niko.

What’s left of Niko after his death is his legacy — his work, his personality, his relationships (or lack thereof) with others, and it’s fascinating to see how our characters deal with and affect that. Grey is dedicating to curating Niko’s legacy (at Niko’s request, it should be noted), Ryan lives in awe of it, and Mason and Ellie are more pragmatic, wanting to use his legacy and work to improve their own lives. Victor, on the other hand, wants Niko’s legacy all to himself — to effectively erase it, in other words, which is another marker of him being our out-and-out villain.

Niko was divisive in life, and is even more so in death — no one can quite say exactly who he was. A jerk, a total scientist, someone who needed caring for, naïve, a useful tool — all of these were how people thought of him, and all of these were a part of who he was. In the end, it’s the efforts of the living that kill Niko — Ryan’s engineering, Ellie and Mason’s lack of concern, Grey’s reticence to get involved, and Victor’s machinations – along with his own secrecy and feeling of being apart from the world — or dead to it, more appropriately.

Stepping back from our characters and the weight of the living for a bit, let’s talk about the other thing that really makes DED stand out not only as a game but specifically as a Nancy Drew game — that is, its design in being a game that subverts the Nancy Drew formula at every turn.

There are a few obvious ones, like a phone character turning to a real-life suspect (rather than the other way around, like in TMB and ICE, or in any other game, where phone characters are Above Suspicion), the person hiring Nancy actually being the baddie, and Nancy having her safe places removed throughout the game, rather than crossing off locations where Bad Things can happen, but the more interesting ones are a little more subtle.

Our suspects provide a few more subversions — for example, our ‘meanest’ characters (Mason and Gray) are neither our explicit Good Guys or our definite Bad Guys, as often tends to be the case in Nancy Drew games. We also have suspects who hate each other openly revealed to be working together towards a common goal, which is a nice twist on the Warring Suspects trope that we see in quite a few games (ICE, FIN, SSH, etc.).

Finally, the structure of the mystery gives us our last two subversions. Instead of our normal Nancy Drew status quo where the characters are simple but their motivations end up being surprising/hidden/secret, we here have a straightforward motive — remove Niko to get his stuff — and our characters are the part that’s not straightforward, with each of them having warring traits within themselves that contribute to the fog surrounding the mystery.

Our villain also fails in this game through the cover-up, not through the crime. Normally, there’s a mistake that the culprit makes during the committing of a crime that Nancy finds evidence of later — a dropped business card, etc. — but in this case, it’s really only the cover up that implicates Victor at all, and he would have gotten away with it if it weren’t for, well, himself.

These subversions wouldn’t have been possible 10 or 15 games ago, and it’s a mark of how far the games have come that a game can be dedicated to subverting the usual formula and do it with such panache — and make a great game out of it, besides.

The Title:

As a title, The Deadly Device is pretty solid, if lacking a bit of flash. It gives us our method of murder and the academic ‘scope’ (i.e., science/engineering) that we’re playing in for this game, and tells us our crime — can’t be a deadly device without someone ending up, you know, dead — but doesn’t do a lot outside of that and hinting that the dead as a thematic element will have some role to play.

The reason the title is solid, however, rather than lacking, is that there’s not much else to call it that’s quite as well-fit to the game. It pulls (in a matter of speaking) from two Nancy Drew stories, The Crime Lab Case — which, as a title, yawn — and In and Out of Love, a story from the Nancy-at-college era that tried to be Hotter and Sexier than the previous books, but just ended up being a bit ridiculous. Neither one of those titles would have been any better — they would have been significantly worse, honestly, so The Deadly Device will stand as a good, solid effort for a great game.

The Mystery:

Disaster has struck at Technology of Tomorrow Today, a research lab in snowy Colorado: the lead scientist, a man named Niko Jovic, has been discovered dead in the Tesla Coil lab of electrocution. Months later, the case has gone cold, so owner Victor Losset decides to take matters into his own hands and hires Nancy to find his employee’s killer — not that there’s any doubt in his mind that Ryan Kilpatrick, the engineer who built the coil that killed Niko, is responsible.

When Nancy arrives on-scene and undercover, however, things aren’t quite as cut and dry as Victor would have her believe. It seems that everyone at the lab has means, motive, and opportunity — and whoever killed Niko doesn’t have any qualms about killing a nosy detective to cover up their crime…

Like with TMB, DED isn’t that interested in obscuring its bad guy to a “gotcha!” moment at the very end of the game. Instead, it’s largely concerned with putting disparate personalities under a huge amount of pressure and seeing what results. No one at the lab is super fond of anyone else who works there, nor of their superiors or employer(s), and all have the equipment and the intelligence to make use of the equipment to deadly ends.

Also like TMB, the crime has already been committed or begun, and it’s not Nancy’s job to prevent it — nothing is going to bring Niko back, after all — but to put together the post-mortem pieces and discover what really happened in the past, and the effect that the living have on the dead. It’s a thematic sort of conflict, and it really helps to elevate the game past “fun science mystery”. And speaking of thematic resonance in this game…

The Theme:

As we discussed last time, TMB was a game about fear — fear of death, of responsibility, of ignominy, of failure, etc. Being its sister game, DED is focused on the opposite of fear: acceptance. Instead of failure, responsibility, and other ever-present fears, DED is about the acceptance of the good, the bad, of yourself, and what others will do with your work and legacy once you’re gone.

In other words, DED is a game most concerned, thematically speaking, with certainty and resolve, rather than fear.

One of the biggest thematic elements in the game that proves this point is the presence of Niko’s recorded diaries. Not only does this feature some excellent voice acting by Josh Crandall, but it also gives a dead character the chance to discuss his motivations, his considerations, and — importantly — his sense of his impending death.

At no point does Niko dissolve into hysterics or even palpable fear; he simply accepts that there are consequences for both his and others’ actions, and that there are people in the world who believe the opposite of what he believes in — and are willing to kill for it.

Niko was a man who personified resolve and acceptance to a fault — had he informed others that his life was in danger, Victor would have had a much harder time killing him — but was also jealous of those who didn’t have to or have the capacity to have that kind of acceptance:

“I see why Tesla liked his pigeons. They fly only where they’re directed, and never question the effect the beating of their wings will have on the skies and the world below.”

The lack of acceptance in our villain is actually what leads to his downfall. The case has gone cold, and Victor is, legally speaking, off the hook — but he can’t accept that he’s gotten away with it, and instead decides to push it one step too far by hiring a detective. Had he not hired anyone, he would have been free and clear for the rest of his life — if the police weren’t able to find anything, the chances of them reopening the cold case are extremely slim — but instead Victor couldn’t accept it, and so hired the instrument of his own demise.

Every suspect has their own resolve in this game, and it’s that facet of their personalities that gives Nancy such a hard time at first, because none of that resolve includes answering the questions of a pesky investigator.

The Suspects:

First off is Obadiah Stane Victor Lossett, Nancy’s boss, owner of Technology of Tomorrow Today, and super evil killer of scientists who piss him off and prevent him from making oodles of money.

Like I mentioned above in “The Mystery”, the game isn’t so much concerned with obscuring Victor’s role as the bad guy. It’s a lovely moment when he shows up, changing from phone to real-life character (and suspect) — it’s in fact one of my favorite moments in the series, and I’ve spoken about it before in my list of the top 5 twists/surprising moments in the series — but it’s not a surprise that he’s involved in Niko’s death.

Victor fulfills the subversion of the formula that DED plays with a while also telling the correct story and theme for the game: he’s a man who took advantage of others for his own personal gain, and so everything he has is taken from him — including his notoriety — because of his lack of acceptance of the world.

“The world fondly remembers those who always give, and soon forgets those who only take.”

Next on the list is Ryan Kilpatrick, Victor’s favored patsy suspect and technical engineer at TTT. Energetic and quirky to (in my opinion) a fault, Ryan warned Niko several times that the Tesla coil would kill him, and then did exactly what he wanted her to do anyway.

To be fair to the girl, she was definitely in love with him, albeit a love more based on pity than on straight-out affection. “He had no one else in the world looking after him”, anyone?

Ryan only makes sense in a world where Niko was killed in the way that it appears first: by a simple malfunction in the Tesla Coil. Because Ryan built it, she would be legally responsible for his death, even though he was her boss when he told her to build it that way. It would be a simple, easy answer, and one that would have been totally thematically opposite of the story the game was telling, which makes her the perfect “preferred” suspect for Victor’s ruse.

Our two research assistants are next for consideration, so let’s start with Ellie York, our night-shift assistant who switched in order to avoid her coworker. A Good Southern Girl, Ellie is not above talking smack with a pretense of politeness and has a rather sinister motive up her sleeve.

Despite the fact that all research done at a lab is property of the lab, she (and Mason) decides that Isn’t Fair and tries to shop around their research to the highest bidder in an attempt to make enough money to pay off her debts.

The fact that she’s selling research that isn’t wholly done by her or Mason when she’s mad that her research is being (contractually and legally) used by someone else does rather put a damper on her ‘righteous anger’, doesn’t it.

As a villain, Ellie would have had to be a pair with Mason, which would have been interesting and a parallel to TMB, but just wouldn’t have told the story that DED wanted to tell. It would have been a story about backbiting and jealousy within a workplace, and thus would have lost its resonance with the historical backstory and with who Niko was as a person. As the victim makes the murder, Ellie (or Mason, or and Mason) would have been a poor choice.

Mason Quinto works the day shift and is far more neurotic than his night-shift companion, though just as guilty of attempting to sell research. He prefers his space neat and orderly, and gets quite steamed when Ellie messes it up to piss him off.

Yeah, there’s no way those two don’t end up in bed when they’re drunk. Honestly.

While the more ‘scientist’-like and nerdy of the two assistants, Mason is, in a refreshing change from normal tropes, also the more maverick of the two, running away with Niko’s work after the murder is solved and is only found at an expo by Gray a bit later, where a fight erupts until Mason comes back to work with Gray and Ellie.

He can also turn into a supervillain in a second chance, which is awesome.

Like I said above with Ellie, the only way Mason makes sense as the villain is to be a pair with Ellie, but it just isn’t the right story, thematically speaking. Mason (and Ellie) are a great example of how everyone in DED is guilty of something, whether they think they’re justified or not, and how putting these kind of people in a pressure cooker and turning it on only leads to disaster, sooner or later.

The last still-living member of our cast is Gray Cortright, security guard and ex-theoretical physicist, along with being probably Niko’s only friend — for a certain value of ‘friend’, it should be noted. Gray used to be the “smart one” until he went through what is basically a nervous breakdown due to his knowledge of theoretical physics and never quite recovered.

I’ll note that Gray would have been a more obvious choice for the early Nancy Drew games; a friendship gone wrong, a slightly “crazy” villain — the pieces are there. But because DED subverts the Classic Formula, Gray is instead probably the only person fully on Niko’s side — no tricks, no ulterior motives, no nothing. He’s exactly what he presents himself to be: gruff, grumpy, unkind, and not even close to a murderer (except, perhaps, where Mason is involved).

Let’s finish off our roll call with Niko Jovic, our murder victim and one of two foils for Nancy in this game. Niko was “100% a scientist”, interested most in the free use and free sharing of technological and scientific advancement, and less interested in developing technology to harm others.

This didn’t make him very popular with those who wanted to harm others, funnily enough.

It’s important that our victim in this case foils Nancy, because this is a game about (as we’ve discussed) acceptance and consequences. The consequence of Niko not paying attention to the fact that other people in the world are not like him was that there was an opening for a bad man to kill him. It’s not Niko’s fault that he was killed, but neither was he unaware that it was coming. He’s described as a ‘dead brilliant jerk madman’, and there’s a lot of truth in that; those who ultimately do good things and work hard are not always good or kind or nice themselves.

And yes, this is how he relates to Nancy. Nancy, like Niko, is a person who rather thinks what most of us would call “people skills” or “kindness” get in the way of the most important thing: solving puzzles and figuring things out. Both of them make the world better through their work, but honestly speaking, that’s not their ultimate aim. They’re not working directly to improve the world, they’re working for knowledge and to solve the puzzle.

In other words, they’re investigators, not philanthropists. And often (ultimately, for Niko), that’s what puts them in danger.

Over on Team Nancy, we have some familiar faces, beginning with our most unfamiliar familiar face, Nancy herself.

Hired as a professional detective undercover, Nancy Drew arrives at the lab to ferret out the murderer — and the truth behind Niko’s death — before anyone figures out that she’s not actually there on behalf of a new owner.

We learn a lot about Nancy in this game, not the least of which because she’s in what we can cheerfully call the opposite of her element (contrasting with TMB). Closely observed, surrounded by a subject that’s not quite in her normal wheelhouse, and where everyone around her is hell-bent on hiding everything they can from her — it’s a recipe for a frustrated detective, and that’s part of the reason that we see the return of not one but two (three? technically) detective (or detective-adjacent) phone friends, rather than Bess/George/Ned.

(Side Note: George, for all her specialty with science and technology, wouldn’t have been a good phone friend for this game, as she would have focused on the science, which isn’t really the point of Nancy’s investigation, and not enough on the case. Just putting that out there.)

This game features Nancy as a sort of patsy, rather than an unexpected observer or the target of revenge, and it should be no surprise that she outgrows that role fairly quickly. Her reluctance to search for evidence against someone, rather than evidence for the crime, clears the hurdle of Ryan’s Suspected Involvement pretty quickly while being the opposite of what Victor wanted out of her assistance.

On display here is Nancy’s fairness and her ability to ignore what others say about a case if it doesn’t suit her. Sure, she’s been told to watch Ryan and find her guilty, but Nancy’s pretty uninterested in that, instead centering her search around Niko rather than Ryan. Ellie makes a comment about Mason being about 60% scientist (and Niko being 100%), and it’s fair to say that Nancy’s about 60% a detective; she has other interests and motivations, but when she’s ‘at work’, she’s focused on doing her job to the greatest extent that she can — which is what makes her such a problem for Victor in the long run. And speaking of problems for Victor…

Returning from her role as the gloriously catty mean girl in ASH is Deirdre Shannon, criminology student and absolute sass master. Busted for hiring someone to write an essay for her in college, Deirdre’s clever enough to suggest making up the credit by assisting in a real-life murder investigation — albeit with a heavy dose of sarcasm for her frenemy.

Besides having the best lines in the game (her “did you forget that I don’t like you?” and voicemail message are incredible, along with her assertion that Nancy should get her head checked out due to her repeated hits on the head), Deirdre is there to help Nancy see things from a different perspective and to clue her in on information that she has no way to get — backing up alibis, old publications, and the like. She’s less concerned with the background of the case — the Hardy Boys (!!) have that covered — and is more here to figure out exactly who can be taken off of Nancy’s suspect list and why.

She also, in a rather glorious twist of fate, is the reason that Nancy is hired, having told Victor that Nancy suffers from “chronic wrongness”, among other things. I can just imagine how pissed Victor must have been in jail with her — more than with Nancy, certainly — and can easily see a future where, upon his release/escape, Victor goes after Deirdre — it was after all Deirdre, not Nancy, who cleared Ryan.

But enough about games that would have been better than MID. That’s a nigh-unquenchable topic.

Deirdre’s there as the more prominent foil to Nancy within the game — and the game isn’t shy about foiling the two women. Both are bright, both come from River Heights, both are interested in/involved with the same boy, both are involved in crimes/criminology to some extent…the list goes on.

The thing that Deirdre-as-foil shows us about Nancy is that Nancy isn’t unique in what she does. Sure, the way she got into the mystery business and her credentials are unusual, but she’s far from the only girl in her late teens that’s interested in crime and mysteries, and far from the only one who can solve these types of mysteries.

Deirdre is often referred to as “the girl who could have been Nancy Drew” had things worked out differently for her — different parents, different friends, different connections, etc. — and we see that play out here. She’s not lacking for smarts, intuitive thinking, or creative problem solving — just in opportunity.

The Hardy Boys are here for their only appearance in the Nancy Games, and boy do they do The Most.

When last we saw him, Frank Hardy was helping Nancy out with a ‘relationship talk’, but here he’s interested in two things: talking to Nancy and researching to help Nancy. He’s quite proud of Nancy and her reputation, and is more than willing to help her on the case — though his first priority is her safety, as demonstrated by the voicemail.

That really should be capitalized, huh. “The Voicemail”.

I first wanna say kudos to DED for actually making progress in Frank’s character arc and relationship with Nancy, and giving context to his sulking in the next game. So often in games like the Nancy Drew games — and indeed, in the earlier games in this series — there’s an addiction to the status quo that doesn’t really allow for anyone to learn anything permanent, much less something that changes their behavior, so I’m pretty thrilled with this development even outside of shipping.

Second, I love that this is a topic that both boys are interested in, albeit for different reasons. Too often we have either Frank or Joe being enthusiastic about the context of Nancy’s investigation, and it’s nice here to see that the boys can agree on something — even if their answers are different as to why.

Speaking of different reasons for interest, Joe Hardy is back (we haven’t seen him for quite a few games!) and is better than ever. I’ve said it before (and I’ll say it again), but really Rob Jones does a phenomenal job with Joe, especially as the games progress, and DED is a perfect example. Joe’s dialogue is pitch-perfect and his excitement about Tesla is adorable.

I’m also going to point out that Joe’s identity as a very proficient tactician is in play in this game, as he is the one to point out how very strange it is that a man of means and importance would hire Nancy — not that, as Frank points out, Nancy doesn’t have a great reputation, but just that Victor should be able to hire a world-class detective rather than a girl in her late teens to investigate this murder.

The thing that the Hardy Boys are here to represent is Nancy’s fledgling footing into the professional world. Sure, she’s been a detective for hire for a while now, and TOT sort of ushered her into that world for good, but the Boys have been doing this for much, much longer, and have the sort of resources that make a huge difference when investigating crimes like murder versus circumstances like “my daughter is unhappy go help her”.

For all of Nancy’s natural inclinations, talents, and drive that make her a good detective, the Hardy Boys (along with Deirdre) show the downside of being an autodidact: the breadth of your resources isn’t anywhere near what others’ might be. The things she needs to solve this mystery are privy to those with better resources — colleges and agencies — and she has to rely on them to get the job done.

The Favorite:

DED is a game that I didn’t expect to like, but ended up really loving, so there’s quite a few things in this section that stand out.

The first thing I want to mention is I love Ellie and Mason’s interactions. In a lot of Nancy Drew games, we get the characters interacting with Nancy, but not so much interacting with each other, so it’s always a pleasure for me when it happens.

Deirdre holds her title as one of my favorite characters in this series, so of course she’s going to get a mention here. The “TDPD” segment has me rolling on the floor, her comment about Nancy volunteering for a neurological study sounds exactly like what a lot of fans joke about, and her voice acting (major props to Meaghan Halverson) is equal parts snide and earnest, all without ever losing her edge or likability.

As anyone who’s been in the vicinity of these metas knows, I’m a huge fan of the Hardy Boys, and I love their inclusion here. The geeking out over Tesla, the brotherly camaraderie, the hints at Frank’s feelings, Joe teasing Frank about said feelings — it’s all here, and it’s all wonderful.

My favorite puzzle would probably have to be the whole fingerprint-melting-gummy-bear puzzle, just because — I mean, at the end of the day, that’s just cool. I did a forensic-science-style unit in my elementary years where we printed fingerprints and distinguished between whorls and such and this made me exactly as excited as I had been all those years ago. It’s fun, fitting with the story, and involves gummy candies — what’s not to like?

My favorite moment — and I’ve mentioned this once already in this meta, and in a different meta — is the moment that Victor shows up. Savvy players of this series would know that there’s no way HER would include a model of Victor just for a video call, so it’s not exactly a surprise, but it’s such a wonderfully scary moment without being a jump scare or a startle.

Victor’s appearance closes down Nancy’s snooping spots, removes a safe place for her, turns the last bit of the game into a sort of mix of detective and stealth game, and is a huge subversion of the usual “phone-client” formula, and I absolutely love it.

My last favorite thing about this game is when you realize that Victor hired Nancy due to her supposed incompetence, rather than her being, in Frank’s words, one of the best that there is. It chills you down to the bone and makes the whole game feel more antagonistic as a result, and is just a really nice writing moment.

The Un-Favorite:

There are, however, a few things that maybe aren’t so grand in this game, even with all its good points.

My least favorite puzzle is probably the chemical puzzle — with the beakers and the exploding water and such — just because it’s quite finicky, and it takes up time that I’d rather be doing other things with. I thought about the printing puzzle, but honestly even though it takes time within the game to do it, there’s plenty of other things to do with Nancy’s time that makes the time spent there not so big a deal.

My least favorite moment in the game is, quite frankly, the time spent talking to Ryan. I find all the characters interesting as characters, but Ryan is exactly the kind of Quirk that I don’t handle well, in real life and in video games.

Honestly, her remark of “I less-than-three them!” was enough to get me to stand up and walk away from the game for a minute the first time I played through it.

Had this game come out a few decades earlier, she would have referred to Niko as “totally tubular” and stuff like that, and it’s…it’s just a lot to handle for me personally.

The Fix:

So how would I fix The Deadly Device?

Honestly speaking, this is a game where there’s not a lot to do. I’d probably tweak Ryan to be a little less annoying and smooth out the chemicals puzzle, but those are more personal grievances than they are actual issues with the plot and writing.

Probably the only substantial thing I’d do is tie in the robotic cat plotline a little more. As it is, it’s easy to ignore and doesn’t have a lot of plot or thematic resonance, so I’d make it a little more important and noteworthy. And less scary looking.

DED is a game that sets out to tell a good story while subverting the usual Nancy Drew formula in big and small ways, and honestly it succeeds at both of those things with flying colors. It really feels like a setting where life went on before and will go on after Nancy leaves it, which is Valuable to me all by itself, and features some of the more colorful moments in the series — all while solving an actual murder for the first time since a Florida high school in the 90s.

#nancy drew #nancy drew games #the deadly device #clue crew #nancy drew meta #DED #video games #my meta

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o-w-quinlan · 3 years

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Digimon Adventure: (2020) Final Thoughts

Considering I stopped reviewing this series episode by episode months ago, they’re more positive thoughts than you’d expect, though still not all that positive.

To summarize, this is an entertaining series with plenty of individual good aspects and great episodes that nevertheless leaves me cold as a whole. Much as I enjoyed following it week to week, I can’t say I recommend this series to anyone but hardcore Digimon fans, or hardcore fans of the wider “monster” genre.

Action

It felt appropriate to start with this, considering a focus on action was what the initial interviews promised, and they delivered in spades. It wasn’t perfect or too consistent, there were several times when the Digimon not evolving when they could just broke any tension the fights had, but this series had some of the best fights in any Digimon anime. Anything in the first 3 episodes, Greymon/MetalGreymon vs MetalTyranomon, SkullKnightmon vs Greymon and Garurumon, Mugendramon vs DoneDevimon, Mugendramon vs WarGreymon, Millenniumon vs the dragons, Omegamon vs Abbadomon Core… all of them among the best things the franchise has to offer in terms of action scenes, which after so many series where fights were solved by having a protagonist Digimon evolve and one-shotting the enemy, comes as a breath of fresh air (to be fair, this series also had a lot of that, but it had actual great fights to compensate).

Worldbuilding

Another thing promised in interviews was the use of Digimon from all over the franchise, and not only did they deliver, but they also included plenty of references to the “null canon” to enrich the experience for the most hardcore fans. The series made sure to constantly emphasize the savage nature of the Digital World, bringing back the Tamers worldbuilding of Digimon consuming weaker Digimon in hopes of achieving evolution. Along the way we saw a lot of allies fighting back against this status-quo, from things as overt as Leomon organizing a resistance or Petaldramon protecting weaker Digimon from the all-consuming Entmon, to less dramatic stuff like weak Digimon settling down to live together, or the mere presence of a restaurant where everyone can rest for a while of the hardships of their world.

The biggest flaw here was in how the series handled its antagonists. With very few exceptions, every single enemy Digimon in the series lacked dialog, whereas nearly every single ally Digimon could speak normally, and this disparity cheapened the whole thing, because instead of coming across as “this mentality is normal for this world”, it came across as just your normal “everyone lived together in harmony until the villains attacked”, which is very much not what the series was telling us.

Characterization

That brings us to the next point: the lack of personality for most villains. I joked elsewhere that Minotaurmon from episode 19 was the most compelling villain of the series, and that’s not completely a joke. Almost every single villain of the week was flat, plenty of the “main” villains were lacking in dialog (Algomon in the first few episodes, Nidhoggmon, Millenniumon) or turned mindless halfway through (Devimon, DarkKnightmon). Negamon/Abbadomon in the final episodes managed to benefit from this by being the embodiment of an “instinct”, but in general this meant a mook-of-the-week like Minotaurmon managed to be a highlight among the villains simply by having dialog and non-trivial desires.

But what of the protagonists? The popular opinion is that everyone is far blander than they were in the original series, and I agree. But rather than comparing it with the first series, let’s look at what it had to offer to us. Where in other Digimon series, the backstories and issues of the protagonists and their reactions to what’s going on around them make for most of the drama, in this series the drama comes from the villains trying to destroy everything, and for the most part that means the protagonists only need to be distinct and charming on their own, no necessity to create conflict between them. There is an overall character arc for all of them, though: accepting and interiorizing their new duties towards the world they had ended up stranded on, getting to know and love the Digital World. Was this well done? Not really.

Taichi and Takeru, for example, were so much the embodiment of the stock shonen hero that accepting their place in this new world didn’t really reveal anything about them we hadn’t already seen from their first few appearances.

Jou got stuck as an unfunny punchline 90% of the time, to the point of damaging his few “serious” moments in some of his focus episodes. His development of becoming assertive was compelling in theory, but it got muddled with so many unfunny and uncomfortable hotsprings jokes that the impact was lost.

Hikari started as an even more blatant plot-device “mysterious character” than she was in the original series, before unconvincingly changing to cheerful little girl afterwards (the whiplash between her in episode 33 and her in episode 34 was something else), and only really managing to settle into a compelling character in her last focus episode (58, defending the Digitamas from the Bakemon and SkullBaluchimon, which to be fair is a great episode and probably the best showcase for Hikari as a character in any product or continuity).

Koushiro was mostly fine, although we all remember the several times the series seemed to promise it might do something with him (his uneasiness when his family was mentioned, or that line about having to “face the darkness of his past” in the HerakleKabuterimon episode) that ended up being nothing.

Mimi is the fan-favorite, being charming in nearly all her appearances and having some of the best focus episodes, and it’s mostly deserved. If there’s anything I criticize from her, it’s that her focus episodes don’t really add up to anything.

Yamato was fine, started out as a stock shonen rival before becoming the single most chill “lone wolf” in any Digimon series, probably because of what I said before of the conflict between the protagonists no longer being the source of drama. He gets a slow development of caring only for his brother to starting to care for other Digimon for the sake of Sora and Gabumon to caring about the Digital World just as much as everyone else.

Sora was made fun of by a certain section of the fandom for having the worst focus episodes early on, and I agreed, but having finished the series I can’t get rid of the impression that her focus episodes, while perhaps not that good on their own, when taken as a whole explore her character the best of any other. Yeah, this mostly means exploring her compassion (these are not very multi-dimensional characters), but they deepen and deepen both her impact on the Digimon she saves and how she is impacted in turn by them, moving her away from saving others through her combat prowess to saving others by empathizing with the grief of another caring soul, and by the end I honestly ended up considering her my favorite character (despite none of her episodes making it to my list of favorites).

As for the Digimon… it’s following in the footsteps of other Digimon Adventure products by not really having much of interest for the Digimon themselves except for Tailmon.

Overall, for the most part the main characters were decent, but besides Mimi and ultimately also Sora, I don’t think they’re very memorable. All of them start out promising, but never really improved from that promising start (again, except for Sora).

Pacing

And now we get to the biggest problem of the series: Pacing. I’ve seen it stated elsewhere that this series was more episodic than most (any?) other Digimon series before it, and part of the backlash it got was from not being as serialized as fans expected it to be. This isn’t exactly true. From episode 16 (Eyesmon) to episode 24 (DoneDevimon), this series was as serialized as any other Digimon series has ever been, with nonstop escalation that demanded you keep watching it week after week. Then, from 25 to 35 (Angewomon) or 36 (BlitzGreymon), it pulled slightly back from that never-ending escalation, but was still pretty serialized. It was only afterwards that it became heavily episodic, and by that point it wasn’t expectations set up by previous series that hurt it in the eyes of the fandom, it was expectations set by this series itself in its first half.

Not that the episodes themselves were bad. Honestly, I found myself significantly more entertained by the episodic later half of the series than the serialized first half. Maybe it was because they didn’t feel the need to convince me they were the most exciting, tense thing I had ever seen when they were clearly not (hello, Mamemon episode), or maybe it was that there were more than just endless fights to them, but I normally ended up those episodes entertained and satisfied, whereas with a lot of episodes from Eyesmon to BlitzGreymon, I mostly just felt frustrated after watching them. I agree with the criticism that, when seen as a whole, breaking momentum so hard for so long after months of never-ending escalation wasn’t the right choice, but when seen week after week, I can’t see this change of approach as that bad of a thing.

Conclusion

I think that sums up the series for me. On a weekly basis, it’s pretty entertaining. It’s when seen as a whole that the problems really become clear. There’s been some speculation in the past few weeks of how much the current situation in the world might have impacted the series, but ultimately, I have to judge what actually happened, and I can’t help the impression that this series ultimately left me with nothing of substance after it was all said and done. Like, I enjoyed this more than, say, Appli Monsters, but Appli Monsters have things that stick with you after it’s over. Not so much here, unless you’re a hardcore fan that loves the Omegamon lore this added (which I am, btw; love that Omegamon lore). I don’t think I can recommend this series to anyone who isn’t a hardcore Digimon fan, or at least a hardcore fan of the wider “monster” genre.

One thing I’m grateful to this series for, though, it’s the commercial boost it has given the rest of the franchise. I’m not going to credit it for all the successes it currently has, after all the Card Game would have fell off by now if it wasn’t genuinely well-done and the Vital Bracelet happened because of years of the virtual pet division progressively building up its audience after it had nearly died off, but it’s undeniable they wouldn’t have sold as well without this anime advertising the franchise week after week. Next week, we’ll have the first episode of Digimon Ghost Game, the first time since 2001 that we have a Digimon series being immediately succeeded by another. If that isn’t a sign of how well the franchise is doing right now, I don’t know what is.

Favorite Episodes: 1 (Tokyo Digital Crisis), 6 (The Targeted Kingdom), 12 (Lilimon Blooms), 20 (The Seventh One Awakens), 32 (Soaring Hope), 42 (King of Inventors, Gerbemon), 49 (The God of Evil Descends, Millenniummon), 56 (The Gold Wolf of the Crescent Moon), 58 (Hikari, New Life)

#digimon #Digimon Adventure:#Digimon Adventure 2020

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captainjanegay · 3 years

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Summary: Bucky is a single dad coming back from a work trip with a very bored, very whiney 7-year-old girl. A mysterious stranger with a kind heart and a notebook full of doodles comes to the rescue.

A/N: It's been... so long since I've updated this fic. I'm sorry but life got in the way and I couldn't bring myself to write anything. Here I come with apologies and hopes that you haven't forgotten about the adventures of Bucky, Alex and Steve. I'm gonna treat you with the longest chapter I've ever written (it's like 5.3k). I hope you'll like it, I got a bit carried away and my space-nerdiness is showing every now and then.

The chapters will probably come very irregularly from now on but I'll try my best not to have too long gaps between each update. I love you all and — as always — thank you so, so much for your continuous support. I cherish every single reader, every single like and every single comment you leave here :')

Chapter 7

(5.2k)

When Monday rolls around, Bucky faces New York’s chilly morning as he makes his way to work. It’s been only a few days since he got sick, but he feels significantly better now. His nose might still be stuffed and his throat might feel a bit scratchy, but he is mostly fine. No more coughing fits, no more fever. And it’s not like he could say no when his boss called him to check how he was doing and ask if he’d be able to come by before Christmas to do some required maintenance work.

But it’s fine, since the work at the Institute has slowed down, many people have already taken their days off for the Christmas break. It’s calmer than usual and Bucky can do whatever he’s supposed to do in peace.

It's a bit past noon and Bucky's mindlessly staring at the progress bar on his screen and enjoys his coffee. The peace and quiet — excluding his Christmas playlist playing in the background — is disturbed by the ringing of his phone. Slightly startled, Bucky looks around, searching for the device. After a quick glance at the screen, he answers the call.

"Hi, Buck!" Steve says, his voice soft and warm. "I hope I didn't wake you up or anything. Just wanted to check up on you, see how you're feeling."

"That's very sweet of you," Bucky says, his lips spreading in a smile. "And I'm fine, thank you. Currently waiting for the data backup to finish so you've disrupted my staring contest with the progress bar."

Steve doesn't appreciate the joke. Instead, he asks, "You're at work?" After receiving an affirmative hum, he lets out a slightly annoyed huff. "Why? You should still be in bed! Three days ago you've been barely able to get up for longer than 10 minutes. You should still rest, Buck."

"It's been six days ago, thank you very much," Bucky answers. "And I'm fine, Steve. I promise. I wouldn't come if I was still feeling sick, but the fever's been gone for a few days," two but Steve doesn't have to know that, "and I'm not coughing anymore. I'm as fit as a fiddle."

"I can hear you sniffle."

"It's the allergies," Bucky lies and that makes Steve laugh, although a bit exasperated.

"You're horrible," he says. "Bet you haven't even eaten breakfast or drink enough water or like... didn’t even wear a hat even though you’re sick."

"I did have a toast while I ran to catch the train. And now I'm having coffee for lunch. And it’s not even that cold."

An honest-to-God gasp escapes Steve's mouth after he hears that. Of course he's a Mr. Healthy Lifestyle, Bucky shouldn't even be surprised.

"How are you even functioning? You gotta take care of yourself, Buck."

Bucky's heart skips a bit. It's nice to have someone worry about him. Even if he's being dragged in the meantime. And it was nice when Steve took care of him and Alex back when Bucky was too sick to do this. Of course, he has people who do that. Clint, Tasha, Scott -- he can always count on them. But somehow it feels different with Steve. Steve hasn't been around for years like the others, he's known Bucky for just a few months and he still decided to offer his kindness and care. This thought made Bucky's heart do somersaults in his chest.

So did the fact that Steve had a nickname to Bucky's nickname. And he's been using it a lot. Bucky really likes it.

"I'm functioning very well, thank you. And so is Alex, because I'm not as hopeless in taking care of her, luckily," Bucky chuckles. Before Steve can't say anything, Bucky adds, "Besides, I've been able to survive 28 years like this so don't be overdramatic. No need to go all mother hen on me."

"Oh, you think this is overdramatic?" Steve asks, amused. "You clearly don't know what me being overdramatic is, pal. This is just some simple, friendly check-in."

"Okay, now I'm kinda curious," Bucky says. His cheeks hurt from smiling so much. "Hypothetically, what would one have to do to see what is Steve Rogers's definition of overdramatic?"

It makes Steve let out another laugh. "Careful what you wish for, Buck." It sounds like Steve wants to say something else but there's some noise in the background and his voice becomes distant and inaudible for a moment. When he comes back, he says with a sigh, "Sorry 'bout that. I need to go back to work. I'm glad you're feeling better but eat a proper meal or I'll hunt you down."

"Oh, so no mother hen anymore, were going straight to threats, okay." Bucky nods to himself and Steve huffs out a laugh. "Thanks for the call, Steve. It's very sweet of you. Have a nice day."

"You, too. Say hi to Alex from me."

"I will. Bye, Steve."

A small smile is still present on Bucky's face when a few hours later he's picking Alex up from school. It grows bigger when she runs towards him down the stairs, her haphazardly wrapped scarf fluttering behind her. He takes a moment to tuck it properly and then takes Alex's backpack from her.

“How was school today?” Bucky asks as they head home.

“Fine. We played soccer and I scored once!” Alex answers proudly. “Even Adrian didn’t and he’s very good. Maya didn’t want to play ‘cause she says girls shouldn’t play soccer.”

“Jokes on her, because we have a women’s national soccer team and they’re the best. They’re the world champions.”

A gasps escapes Alex’s mouth. “Really? That’s so cool! I want to be a soccer player when I grow up!”

“Not a ballerina, anymore?” Bucky asks, with a small smile.

“No, I’m gonna be a ballerina but I’m gonna play soccer sometimes, too. But that’s after I’ll fly to the moon!”

Bucky only nods and grins at her. He wouldn’t be surprised in the least if she actually pulled that off in the future. There weren’t many things that could stop her since she decided upon something.

“How’s space?” Alex asks, swinging their hands back and forth.

Bucky chuckles. It’s a bit of a tradition at this point. He doesn’t really remember how it started but now she never asks him “how’s work” but it’s always “how’s space?”. Personally, Bucky loves it. It makes him feel like he’s doing much cooler things that he really does.

“Pretty boring, sadly,” he admits. “Didn’t have much to do today and many people are on their breaks so no fun space facts to share today. I chatted on the phone with Steve and he wanted me to say hi to you.”

“Oh, is he coming over today?”

Slightly confused with the question, Bucky shakes his head. “No, he’s not. We just talked on the phone. Why?”

“I don’t know, I thought you liked Steve.”

“Well, I do. I like uncle Scott too but we don’t hang out with him every day, either. Steve has his own life and stuff to do, so we shouldn’t bother him all the time.”

Alex makes a small hum and Bucky’s not sure if it’s a dismissive or an agreeing one. After a moment, she adds, “I bet he wouldn’t mind though. He told me he really likes you.”

“What? When?” The revelation almost makes Bucky stop in the middle of the pavement. The biggest surprise is not that Steve likes him, Bucky has figured out this much after all those times they’ve hung out together. What really takes him aback is that apparently his daughter and Steve are having conversations about him when he’s not there.

“When you were sick and Steve went to ballet class with me. I told him he’s cool and I’m happy you have him so you’re not so lonely. And he said he thinks we’re really cool too and that he likes us a lot.”

This time Bucky slows down and eventually stops. There’s a furrow between his brows when he looks at Alex.

“Why would you think I’m lonely, munchkin? I’m not, I have you and mama, uncle Clint and Scott. And now Steve. I’m more than fine.”

“Well… Okay, maybe I didn’t mean lonely. But sometimes when you have a lot to do and you worry and mama or uncle Clint are busy you do this—” Alex furrows her brows and pouts, apparently imitating a worried Bucky “and you’re quiet and worried. And now you smile even more than you did. You smile all the time when you text Steve.”

For a moment, Bucky only gapes at her, not sure how to react. That’s a lot of information coming at once from his 7-year-old daughter.

“I’m— Well, I’m okay, even if I worry sometimes. And I couldn’t be lonely, having such a sweet little munchkin by my side,” he smiles, bopping her on the nose and getting a smile in return. “But thank you for caring about me, sweetheart. I love you to the moon and back.”

“And I love you to Jupiter!” she answers.

“But not back?” Bucky raises an eyebrow.

“Nah, it’s already so far away, it’s enough.”

The conversation with Alex stays in Bucky’s head for the rest of the day. It’s gnawing at him enough that before he goes to bed, he takes out his phone and calls Natasha.

“How’s my favourite co-parent doing?” she greets.

“Do you have any more co-parents?” Bucky asks instead of answering.

“Nope. That’s what makes you my favourite.” Bucky only sighs so she continues. “Did something happen? You’re usually in the mood for late night conversation when something’s on your mind.”

There’s no point in denying it since Natasha would see right through him. “It’s nothing bad. Apparently Alex thinks I’m lonely.”

“Well, she’s not wrong.”

“What? Tasha, no. I’m not lonely, where did you two get that idea?”

“James, it’s not my fault that you’re an idiot. I know that you have people who love you around. You know that, too. But I know and you also should know — but here’s the ‘idiot’ part — that it might not be enough sometimes. And I’m pretty sure we’ve had a similar conversation like a month ago, so I don’t know why you act all surprised now.”

“Remind me, why did I even call you?”

“Because I am incredible and you value my opinion like no one else’s and also you love me deeply,” Natasha explains dutifully.

Bucky huffs out a laugh as he sits heavily on the side of his bed. His eyes land on the comic from Steve, still laying on Bucky’s bedside table, propped against the lamp. “Sounds fake, but okay.”

“Did our daughter have any more revelations for you?” Natasha asks.

“Well…,” Bucky hesitates for a moment. “She and Steve gossip about me when I’m not around. And apparently I’ve been smiling more lately. But that’s about it.”

Natasha hums but even through the phone Bucky can hear that she’s rather amused.

"What?" Bucky asks.

"I didn't say anything!"

"I can hear you laughing, just say whatever mean thing you're going to say and let's get this over with."

"I'm not gonna say anything mean! I was just wondering when we'd mention Steve in this conversation," she chuckles. "But really. Even your daughter can see that a relationship would be good for you. And that you like Steve a lot. Why not kill two birds with one Steve?"

Bucky sighs. "Because one Steve is also enough to kill this friendship we have."

"Why do you always just automatically assume that things will get fucked? It doesn't have to be the case. I'm serious, you'd better take a grip on yourself and ask him out or I'm back in three days and I'll do this for you. And I'll be as obnoxious and embarrassing for you as I can."

That's actually a pretty horrible threat. She would do that. And it would be both mortifying and horrible to experience for all the involved parties — maybe except Natasha. Bucky laughs, trying to imagine it, but the laugh is short-lived.

"Come on, Nat," Bucky starts after a moment, getting serious. "Steve is great and it's great having him around. But what if I make a move and he's not interested? I don't want to freak him out. Or remember that message I accidentally saw on his computer? He might be seeing someone already or be interested in someone else," Bucky pinches the bridge of his nose. "Plus, I know from experience that no matter how much he might seem to like me, a guy with a kid can turn out to be a bit much for people. I don't want to get hurt. I don't want Alex to get hurt. She adores Steve and I don't know if I can risk it."

"But I'm telling you, nobody's getting hurt anytime soon," Natasha chimes in. "You're overthinking, Yasha. Those are all valid concerns but you know what the counterargument is?" She takes a small break but she's not expecting Bucky to respond. "Steve's a good guy. He likes you. He likes Alex. He came to a primary school dance recital after knowing you for like a week just because you and Alex asked him to. Even if he doesn't want a relationship, it doesn’t mean that your friendship has to end. From all you've told me, he doesn't seem like the kind to trample on your hearts like this. Give yourself some time, but promise me you're gonna think about it, okay? And call me if you work yourself up into an anxious mess again, okay?”

“I will try not to be an anxious mess, but I’ll let you know. And I’ll think about it. Thanks, Tasha.” Bucky says.

“I love you no matter what, you dumbfuck. Bye.”

Bucky barely manages to say it back before she hangs up. He shakes his head with a small smile and retrieves his charger cable from behind the bedside table. As he plugs his phone, he accidentally knocks down the drawing from Steve. He picks it up, staring at the soft lines for who-knows-which time. His thumb gently traces the “Get well soon, Buck! x” scribbled at the bottom.

Looking at it, Bucky imagines the moment when Steve was writing it down. In his mind, he sees both Steve and Alexandra at the kitchen table, both leaning over their respective pieces of paper, focused on whatever they’re drawing. They are smiling, chatting about whatever common interest they’ve currently discovered. It’s a very nice picture. Enough to make Bucky’s heart ache.

Because Natasha is right. This is exactly what Bucky craves and what he’s been ignoring for years. That domesticity, that warm feeling one gets when looking at someone they care about. That happiness. He can almost imagine himself joining the picture he’s created in his head, walking over to that table and dropping a kiss first on Alex’s head and then on Steve’s, before he starts preparing the dinner. It feels right.

Maybe it’s not usual to imagine this calm, family life with someone he’s not even in a relationship with. Most people probably think of tons of other things, things that are not so… settled. Not as serious. Sometimes they never reach this part. But Bucky has figured a while ago that it doesn’t really work for him. He already has a family. And this family means everything and more to him. If he ever was to date, he has to make sure that the person would fit into his and Alexandra’s life. He has to skip ahead to make sure it’s worth going through the dates and the passion and all the work a relationship requires, without it all ending in a heartbreak. But Steve…

Steve fits so well into this picture, it scares Bucky a bit. Because this would be even harder to let go, if things didn't work out.

It's pretty clear, now that he allows himself to think about it, that he has some feelings for Steve. Besides the friendliness and sympathy, that is. They're the romantic kind and they're still fresh and shy but they're here. And Bucky has absolutely no clue how to deal with them. It's not even that surprising, he realises. Because how could he not catch feelings for Steve? For the kindest, most thoughtful and most selfless person in the world? For someone with his heart made of gold, who always knows how to make Bucky laugh? Someone who gets so passionate about the things he loves and just as much about the ones he despises? Who cares deeply, laughs with his whole body and who next to all this softness and kindness, is also a stubborn little asshole? Who — and this is the most important of all — adores Alex and whom she adores just as much?

Bucky's heart was a lost cause from the start.

Steve has a lot of qualities that Bucky would fall for if he looked for a partner. And that he accidentally might have fallen for anyway. And that's all without even mentioning that Steve is so ridiculously attractive that it might've skewed Bucky's view on beauty forever.

The point is — Natasha is right. That this could be a good thing. They could be a good thing. But what they have now is already good and Bucky really values this friendship. He isn't sure if pursuing a hypothetical picture in his head is worth putting it at risk. Because he still can't be sure if Steve's interested. For what Bucky knows, he's kind and caring towards all of his friends. It doesn't mean that Bucky and Alex are special.

He can almost hear Natasha's voice in his head, calling him an idiot and yelling that he won't know until he tries. Which is right, since Natasha always is. It doesn't help him stop the — partially excited but mostly terrified — somersaults his insides make. With a small sigh, he puts the drawing on its place by the lamp, flicks off the lights and burrows himself under the covers. He doesn't have to have everything figured out straight away. Letting himself even consider it is a big enough step for now, he decides as he drifts off to sleep.

The next day is Bucky's last day at work before the Christmas break. He doesn't really have much to do, just finishing some last updates and dealing with whatever paperwork he was putting off earlier. Most of the time, he chats with Scott, who has been wandering aimlessly around the institute for the lack of work and eventually landed in Bucky's tiny office. They've been chatting about their Christmas plans — nothing too elaborate for both of them, just simple time at home with their families — and now they started discussing where they should go to grab some lunch. Just as Bucky almost convinced Scott that they should go to this sushi place down the block instead of the Italian place, there's a knock on the door.

Bucky sends his friend a confused look.

"It wasn't me," Scott raises his hands in defence.

"Come in," Bucky calls after another second passes. It's probably someone having a last-minute computer problem or one of his co-workers wanting to drop by with Christmas wishes.

Except, when the door cracks open, Steve's head pokes in. Its hair is messy, its cheeks reddened from the cold and its lips spread in a smile.

"Hi, Buck. And hi Scott, it's nice to see you again," he says. "I'm not interrupting?"

And because Bucky's brain is still processing the fact that for some reason Steve's come to visit him at work, Scott's the one who says, "Not at all, come in."

Steve hesitates for another second. Bucky's brain finally kicks in and he smiles which is apparently the invitation Steve needed, because he finally fully walks into the office.

"Hi, Steve. I didn't expect you here," Bucky says, his smile growing bigger.

"Well, you should. Because after our talk yesterday, I decided to bring you lunch," Steve says, proudly showing a big paper bag in his hand. "I told you you haven't seen shit, and especially not overdramatic me."

This makes Bucky laugh out loud as he shakes his head in disbelief. How is Steve even real?

Scott is watching them with a slightly confused but endeared smile on his face. Before anyone can say anything, he gets up from the chair, slapping his thighs as he does.

"Okay then, I'll leave you to it," he says, walking towards the door.

"There's plenty to share, if you want to join us," Steve offers, because of course he does. His gold-heartedness wouldn't have it any other way.

But Scott only shakes his head at that. "Nah, I'm in the mood for some sushi today. Thanks, though."

"Asshole," Bucky narrows his eyes at Scott. "I hope you'd choke on it."

His friend only laughs at that, "Enjoy your lunch date! It's been great to see you, Steve. Merry Christmas."

"You too, Scott. Say hi to Hope and Cassie from me."

With one last grin aimed at Bucky — and a very pointed look behind Steve's back — Scott leaves them alone. Bucky tries not to dwell on the fact that Steve didn't even bat an eye when Scott called it a lunch date.

"Why should he choke?" Steve asks with a chuckle.

"I've been trying to talk him into going to that sushi place for almost twenty minutes before you came," Bucky sighs and then notices that Steve is still hovering by the door. "Come on, take your coat off and sit down. I can't believe you've brought me lunch."

Steve shrugs off his coat and leaves it on the hanger by the door, next to Bucky's. Today he's wearing a maroon sweater that really suits him and a pair of dark jeans. He pushes his sleeves up before he digs into the bag and Bucky tries not to stare too obviously.

"Someone's got to make sure you eat, since after yesterday I've gotten an idea you're not good at it yourself," Steve says. "Guess it wasn't necessary. Sadly, I don't have sushi but maybe you're in the mood for Thai?"

"Depends on whether you've brought me the dumplings or not," Bucky answers.

Steve laughs in response and takes out one of the boxes and hands it to Bucky. "I did. I also have green curry for you? I hope I remembered correctly that you like it? If not, I'm sorry, we can switch—"

"Steve." Bucky says solemnly, placing his hand on Steve's forearm, to stop him from fumbling with the food. "You not only brought me food but you remembered my favourite after I mentioned it one time. You are an angel. You should hide it better, because you make us mortals look bad."

He's only half joking. Steve does seem like a higher being of some sorts and it's unfair that Bucky's poor heart is supposed to handle it. It doesn't do a great job. Especially not when Steve laughs, his eyes crinkle so much they turn into thin slits.

"And I am the overdramatic one?" Steve asks, unpacking the last things and finally sitting on the chair across from Bucky. He's still smiling but there's a blush colouring his cheeks and creeping down his neck.

Bucky bites the inside of his cheek to contain a grin but the truth is, he's immensely proud of himself for pulling this reaction out of Steve. To stop himself from saying something stupid, he digs into his food.

"By the way, how did you find me here?" Bucky asks, his tongue sticking out a bit in concentration as he fishes for a dumpling with his chopsticks.

"Clara let me know where your office is, she was very helpful."

Bucky furrows his brows. The surprise makes him drop his dumpling back into the container. "Clara, as in Clara Oswald, our receptionist? How do you know her?"

"I don't. We've chatted for a few minutes and I explained why I'm here and she told me how to get to you."

"Ah, of course it took you about five minutes to charm her and get into a government building just like that," Bucky chuckles.

"I didn't charm anyone! I just politely asked and she helped!"

If it wasn't Steve, Bucky would take it as fake modesty. But the truth is that Steve really seems to be completely oblivious to the effect he has on people. It’s endearing to see him do this.

"So here's when you do your cool space stuff?" Steve asks, changing the subject.

"Here's when the real scientists come searching for help when there's some IT-related issue," Bucky corrects him. "I don't do anything cool. I make sure all the data is where it's supposed to be and that whatever equipment they need is ready and working properly. Or part of it, Scott's an engineer and he takes care of the rest. I do get to read some space facts first hand, though."

"That's still cool space stuff for me," Steve shrugs with a small smile. "What kinds of things are you researching here? Like some particular aspects of outer space, or—?"

Normally Bucky would just give the shortest answer possible. People usually get bored quickly when he starts talking about it. But something in the genuine interest on Steve's face, the way he is looking around the office — which is nothing special, the only nice things are the sky maps and some spaced themed art — makes Bucky think that maybe Steve wouldn't mind getting the longer answer.

"Well, we mostly study the weather. Both the Earth's and the one in the solar system, like the solar winds and magnetic storms, stuff like that. We study exoplanets and try to discover or guess as much as we can about them," Bucky says. "I helped to create simulations that predicted how they could look like and develop, to see if there's a possibility to inhabit them. We did it by basically dumping all the data we have into an elaborate computer programme and waiting to see what comes out." Bucky laughs and Steve does too, but he has the look of utter fascination on his face as he listens. "And all this helps with some more down-to-earth stuff — pun not intended. Like, we've done tons of studies in climate change."

"That's—," Steve starts when he makes sure that Bucky's done. "All of this sounds incredible. And you're a part of all those amazing things, how great is that?"

Bucky feels that his cheeks start to burn. There's another reason he usually sticks with the short answer. As much as he's proud to be working here and as much as he loves it, the impostor in him always makes sure that he understands the difference between his work and the actual research, analysis and all the heavy lifting that the astronomers do. He helps, of course he does. He does a great job at it, but there's still a difference. And such praise usually makes him squirm uncomfortably.

"And don't even try to get all modest with me again," Steve warns as if he's been reading Bucky's mind. "You've said that you don't do cool space stuff and then admitted that you've helped to create a program to imagine how exoplanets can look and change. So I know you're full of bullshit."

Steve raises an eyebrow in what's supposed to be an unimpressed look but it's not even close. The smile and the curious, bright eyes that are stating right at Bucky are destroying the effect. The blush on Bucky's cheeks only deepens, especially as Steve adds. "I've been impressed before but— Wow. Really, you guys are doing such incredible things here, I can’t wrap my head around it."

"We really do," Bucky agrees, eventually.

The beaming smile Steve sends him feels like a reward Bucky didn't know he deserves.

"So you've always liked space? Or was it an accident that brought you here?" Steve asks.

"No, I've always loved it. It's just so fascinating and there's always so much more to learn about it," Bucky doesn't even try to hide his excitement. "I've never fully understood all the science behind it but I loved staring at the sky, trying to find all those constellations and planets and galaxies. I've figured a way to somehow connect it to what I was good at and make it my job. Which is amazing. But now I mostly stare at the computer screen instead of the stars. "

He doesn't want to sound ungrateful but he must admit that it does kill some of the fun. But not even the astronomers simply state up at the sky to admire the view.

Steve only nods in response. "Alex mentioned that you guys went on a trip out of town to watch the stars. It must've been great."

"We did! It was like… almost 2 years ago, I think? I borrowed one of those fancy telescopes they have here. I needed to pick Alex up every time, cause she was too small to reach it," Bucky laughs as he brings out the memories. "It was fun, we should do that again, sometime. But I don't have much time now, so it’ll have to wait."

"It does sound great," Steve smiles that soft smile again. "I hope you'd find some time as it gets warm enough for such trips. I bet Alex would be delighted."

"Yeah. I'll let you know if that happens, in case you'd like to join," Bucky says before he can think better of it.

There's more of the childlike excitement on Steve's face as Bucky mentions it so maybe it wasn't that bad of an idea.

An actual bad idea comes out of Bucky's mouth a bit later, just as Steve is getting ready to head out. Bucky's lunch break is long gone and forgotten, because it's been two hours that Steve spent here. He apologises for staying so long and the assurances that Bucky didn't have any more work to do doesn't help.

"I'm sorry for taking your mind away from your responsibilities, but it was great spending time with you," Steve says.

So of course, because Bucky's heart doesn't get any chance to regroup, he doesn't have time to think before he blurts out. "We should have dinner together."

It's certainly not something Steve was expecting to hear. He just stares at Bucky. Before he has a chance to say anything, Bucky continues, "I mean. You should come for dinner. Clint and Nat are always around for a dinner, sometime between Christmas and New Year's. If you don't have any plans, it would be great if you came. But it's okay if you can't or don't want to."

Another moment passes and Bucky tries not to squirm under Steve's gaze. Luckily, Steve finally blinks and smiles as he says, "No, Buck, of course I'd love to come! I don't have any particular plans, will probably hang out with Sam for most of the break but I'll have plenty of time."

"You could take Sam with you," Bucky adds. He desperately tries to regain the control of his own mouth. "It'd be great to finally meet him."

"I'll let him know, I bet he’d be happy to come, too. Thanks again for the invite," Steve smiles as he cracks open the door. With a little wave, he walks out of the office. "Bye, Buck. Have a nice day."

"You too, Steve," Bucky says to the already closing door.

When Steve's gone, Bucky exhales heavily through his mouth as he leans back in his chair. Both of his hands go up to thread through his hair, tugging at it lightly.

Apparently, he has a dinner to prepare.

taglist: @steverrogers @till-the-end-of-the-line-punk @buckyshappyending

#where i'm meant to be #stucky #stevebucky #stucky fic #stevebucky fic #stevebucky fanfiction #stucky fanfitction #chapter 7 #my wrtiting #wimtb #sorry it took me so long!#i really hope you'll like it :')

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bettydice · 4 years

Text

I didn’t expect you to be lonely (too)

Xicheng, Modern AU, JC&WWX reconciliation, E-Rated

Chapter 1

When Jiang Cheng opens the window in the morning, crisp, cold air hits his face. The leaves on the tree in the courtyard of the apartment complex are turning colours.

When did that happen? When did summer end?

It’s a new semester, a new season, and Wei Wuxian still hasn’t returned. Hasn’t called, hasn’t messaged. Jiang Cheng had thought… had hoped…

He should’ve known better.

The wind picks up and raises goosebumps on his skin. A leaf, dark red, is torn from a branch and flutters through the air.

He used to like autumn.

Jiang Yanli was spring, Wei Wuxian was summer, Jiang Cheng was autumn. Winter was them together, because it was cold and they had to stick close.

Jiang Cheng scoffs and closes the window. There’s no use in remembering or hoping. He has work to do anyway.

He makes himself an unsatisfying breakfast that consists of instant coffee and - oh, there isn’t really anything else. Of course the fridge is fucking empty.

He goes jogging, but he’s hungry and it’s cold and he hates jogging.

He takes a shower, but the water is either too hot or too cold.

When he sits down at his desk and opens his writing program, it doesn’t fucking work. Because of course not.

Error #234871FUCKYOUJIANGCHENG

“I don’t even know what that means, I’m not a fucking COMPUTER SCIENTIST!”

Like some people. Some people, who betrayed and abandoned him and moved in with some random-ass people to look after a random-ass child for no good reason and left him all alone. Now he has no one to share his meals with, so there’s no point in making sure his fridge is full, and no one who also hates jogging, so they can suffer together, and no one to fucking help him with fucking computer issues and this is all fucking bullshit.

Jiang Cheng slams his laptop shut.

Fuck you, Wei Wuxian. This is all your fault.

Another headache creeps up his temples. He’s already completely done with this day. At 9:37 AM. Fuck. He has a fucking essay to write about some bullshit topic he doesn’t care about, but how is he supposed to do that when his laptop hates him as much as everyone else does and his head feels as though it’s splitting apart?

His phone rings, and the sound feels like someone is applying a power drill to his brain. And of course it’s not on his desk but far away on the counter. Because nothing in his life can ever be easy or convenient, oh no. He stretches his arm and then his whole upper body to try to grab it from the counter without having to get up from his desk and then there’s a TWINGE and oh no, that’s not good. His shoulder feels as though it’s on fire and… yep, he can’t fucking move his head.

FUCK. FUCKING FUCK SHIT BALLS CRAP FUCK SHIT. FUUUUUUUUCK.

And his phone keeps ringing.

Everyone ignores him for DAYS but NOW when he’s literally DYING and can’t reach his phone, they want to talk to him.

He gets up, ignores the pain shooting down his right arm, carefully shuffles towards the counter, and answers the phone with his left hand.

“WHAT?”

“A-Cheng?”

It’s his sister. Jiang Cheng’s stress levels automatically lower by about 13% as soon as he hears her voice.

“Jiejie, hey. Sorry, I just…” He switches his phone to the other hand and then gets a painful reminder that this side is fucked. “Fuck, ow.”

“A-Cheng? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing! I just... pulled a muscle or something.” He sits down again and bites his lip to suppress a wail of agony. “Why did you call, Jiejie?”

He can basically hear Jiang Yanli’s gentle, slightly concerned, smile through the phone. “Ah, then I’m calling just at the right time. You’ve been struggling with tension for a while now and as you know, your birthday is coming up and -”

“Don’t remind me. That’s still over a month away. And I’m not struggling!”

“- and I have the perfect gift for you. You don’t have to wait until November to do it either. And I think it would be so good for you, A-Cheng, especially now with your pulled muscle.”

“And what exactly is ‘it’?”

“Do you remember Lan Xichen? He’s a friend of Nie Mingjue, and his uncle is Lan Qiren. I think we met him a few times during one of those large business-people dinners we used to get invited to, when father…”

Was still alive.

“I don’t remember anyone I met there, because I was bored out of my mind.” Because Wei Wuxian wasn’t invited to those. And because they were fucking boring. “What does this have to do with my mysterious birthday present anyway?”

“Ah, well, it turns out he works as a physical therapist and I guess you could call him a sort of life coach. Massages, yoga, meditation, physical therapy. He has his own little studio in his apartment, so it’s very private and intimate, and he spends a lot of time with every client, it’s not just a twenty minute massage and then you’re done.”

His sister speaks with rare urgency and Jiang Cheng feels a little bewildered by having this just thrown at him. “So, you want me to-”

“I met him recently, such a lovely man, and asked him whether he had time to take on another client, and he does! So I booked you ten sessions and the first one is Thursday, 5 p.m. We were going to meet that afternoon, so I know you have time, and we can just reschedule our meeting!”

“Jiejie! Ten sessions… I don’t… I’m not a massage person! I don’t want some stranger touching me!” This is all really very sudden, so of course his first instinct is to say no.

His sister, of course, is used to that, and expected it. So she laughs softly and continues convincing him. “Ah, but he’s not a stranger, he’s Nie Mingjue’s best friend and as I said, I met him recently - he’s very kind and sweet and he doesn’t just do massages. I’m sure he’ll be willing to listen to what you’re comfortable with and figure out what’s best for you. A-Cheng, why don’t you just go to the first meeting and see what happens, hm? It’s my present for you.”

As if he could ever actually say no to his sister. Nobody can.

“Alright, alright. But if it’s not my thing, you’ll use the rest of the sessions, okay? I could watch A-Ling while you go get pampered a little.” His sister deserves this much more than he does anyway. Not that she would agree with that.

“Just go and meet with Lan Xichen first, before deciding that it’s not for you.” She’s using her stern voice, oh no.

“I will! I’m just saying!”

“Alright. Let me know how it goes then.”

“I will.”

“Did you have breakfast?”

“Ah, yes, of course.”

“Good. Remember to drink tea or water, too, not just coffee.”

“Yes, Jiejie.”

“And-”

“I’ll call you after I’ve met with Lan Xichen,” Jiang Cheng interrupts, before she can shower him with even more care. “And thank you. I… could probably use some… relaxation.”

“Great! I’ll text you the address in a bit.”

They chat a bit more about A-Ling and what shenanigans he gets up to now that he can walk, and when Jiang Cheng ends the call a while later, his mood has significantly improved.

His phone makes a noise again. He looks at the screen, expecting a text from his sister with Lan Xichen’s address, but... Fuck. He unlocks the screen and stares at his daily Wei Wuxian selfie. Today he’s wearing a bathrobe so fluffy, it seems to swallow him, and he’s making… duck lips. Jiang Cheng’s mood plummets to the ground.

Why can’t he delete this stupid alarm or app or whatever his brother has infested his phone with? Why doesn’t he just change his fucking number, get a new phone? Why does Wei Wuxian keep up this nonsense, even though he’s obviously not interested in being in contact with Jiang Cheng anymore? Why torment him with these little glimpses into a life that he lives without his brother? The selfies don’t arrive at a set time every day and it’s a new one every time, so it’s pretty safe to say, Wei Wuxian takes them and sends them himself every day. They used to arrive between 11 a.m. and 1 p.m., but recently he sometimes gets them as early as 9 a.m. On one shocking occasion it was 6:45 a.m., though Wei Wuxian did look very sleepy. Since when does Wei Wuxian get up that early?

He also seems to be spending a lot of time at a place that is not the flat he moved into with the Wens. Not that Jiang Cheng spends a lot of time analyzing the background of the pictures. Because he does not care what Wei Wuxian gets up to. Wei Wuxian does not care about him anymore either, beyond annoying him like this.

Jiang Cheng shakes his head to make his brain stop thinking about useless things. Immediately, pain shoots down his arm, burns in his neck.

Fuck.

Maybe he should just go back to bed. Clearly getting up was a mistake.

Thursday

Lan Xichen lives on the outskirts of the city. Not quite the suburbs, but in one of those areas where rich people enjoy having a garden, or at least a balcony, and less busy streets, while the city centre is still only a few subway stops away. The kind of area where his own family once lived.

Jiang Cheng checks the house number again and rushes towards the building, wrapping his jacket closer around him. It is colder now, he’s known this and yet didn’t take that into account when getting dressed.

He enters the building, takes the elevator to the 2nd floor, finds the right door and rings the doorbell.

He doesn’t have to wait long until Lan Xichen opens him.

Oh.

“A-Sang… who… who is that next to your brother?”

“Huh? Aaah, that’s Lan Xichen. Da-ge’s best friend. Why do you ask?”

“No reason!”

“Oooooh, I see.”

“Shut up!”

“Well, now I finally know your type, Cheng-Cheng. You’re into impossibly beautiful people who you’re too scared to talk to.”

“I said shut up! I just asked who it was!”

“First Wen Qing, now Xichen-ge… But don’t worry, he’s super nice. Now, his brother on the other hand… So hot, but-“

“I’m leaving!”

Fuck.

“Hello! You must be Jiang Wanyin.”

Lan Xichen smiles at him and yep, yep, Huaisang was right, impossibly beautiful. Fuck.

Oh shit, he still hasn’t said anything.

“Ah yes, that’s me. Hello. Nice to meet you.” Jiang Cheng couldn’t be more awkward if he tried. Except he can, because then he bows, way too low.

Lan Xichen seems to be too polite to laugh at him, but his eyes sparkle as though he wants to, while he invites Jiang Cheng inside.

The apartment is large and bright and… full of plants. Lan Xichen leads him into the living room, where a pot of tea and two mugs are waiting for them on the coffee table. Jiang Cheng sits down on a very comfortable chair, next to a large houseplant with beautiful green and red leaves. All in all, the surroundings help him feel way more relaxed than what would be appropriate for the situation. The situation being: Sitting across from the man Jiang Cheng has seen maybe three times, back when he was 17, from afar, and whom he used to spend quite some time thinking about what it would be like to kiss him. More than three times. The same man who is supposed to give him a massage.

“Is tea alright? Would you prefer something else?”

“Tea is lovely, thank you.” Jiang Cheng hurries to take a sip and hopefully smiles instead of grimacing.

Lan Xichen picks up a notebook and a pen, rests it on his legs, then takes a deep breath. Despite his gentle smile, and the soothing smell of jasmine tea, and the literal urban jungle he’s sitting in, Jiang Cheng thinks he can pick up a hint of nervousness from Lan Xichen. But no, he must be imagining it.

Lan Xichen opens his notebook and looks at Jiang Cheng. “So, your sister already told me that you’ve been dealing with a little tension and stress. If you’re comfortable with it, I would like to ask you a few questions and make myself an overview of where you hold your tension and how it affects you, so we can think about how to best help you.”

Jiang Cheng only smiles and nods.

“This is only a preliminary meeting, so I already know how to best proceed, once we start our sessions.”

Lan Xichen asks him a few questions about his daily schedule (repetitive), whether he does any exercise (yes, well, sort of, sometimes), is he sleeping well (eeh), does he often have headaches (yes), and so on. Jiang Cheng answers as best as he can, and even though Lan Xichen shows no judgment at all, it is mortifying for him. His life is a mess and clearly he’s responsible for all of it. Why doesn’t he do more exercise? If he has headaches all the time, he should be doing something about that!

“Mhm, have you ever tried Yoga before?”

“No.”

“Can you touch your toes?”

“I don’t know? Why would I need to touch my toes?!” Jiang Cheng regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth but Lan Xichen only looks amused.

“Excellent question.” Lan Xichen puts the notepad he’s been using back down on the table and stands up. “Would it be okay if I touch your neck and shoulders to have a closer look at your tension?”

“Yes, yes. That’s alright. Sure.” Jiang Cheng puts down the mug and rests his hands on his knees, trying to project that he’s totally casual and relaxed and that he never spent even a minute wondering how those hands might feel on his skin. Why do these things happen to him? Why can’t he even nurse a schoolboy crush for a few months and then forget about it without suffering consequences???

Lan Xichen’s hands are warm, but not too warm. Perfect temperature for being touched, really. His fingers are long and smooth and it feels really good, the way they’re digging into his muscles and-

“Fuck!”

“Sorry. Looks like I found a sore spot.” Lan Xichen strokes his fingers in a soothing apology over the spot and that’s almost worse, because it feels really good.

“I, uhm, apologise for the… rude language.”

“Oh, haha, I’ve heard worse from clients. No need to hold back, I’m of the opinion that it can be beneficial to find release.”

“Right.” This is like one of Jiang Cheng’s dreams that starts out beautiful and turns into a horrible nightmare halfway through. Will he make it through this without horribly embarrassing himself even further and/or offending Lan Xichen in the process?

“You’re really... “ Lan Xichen runs his hands up Jiang Cheng’s neck and slightly presses his thumbs into a spot between his ear and his jaw. Jiang Cheng groans. “You’re very tense. In a lot of places. Do you grind your teeth at night? Or clench them?”

“Maybe?”

Lan Xichen rests his hands on Jiang Cheng’s shoulders for a second, then sits down opposite of him again. Jiang Cheng immediately misses the warmth of his hands, which is ridiculous and he needs to get a grip.

“Alright, well, I think for the beginning we will be focusing on relaxing and loosening your muscles. So, massage, thermotherapy, some gentle stretches. I’ll also help you find things you can do at home to destress and relieve tension. Does that sound good?”

“Uhm, yes. It does.” Jiang Cheng kind of tuned out after Lan Xichen said ‘massage’, because… He has this dreadful feeling his schoolboy crush never went away and instead just laid dormant until right now. Which is so fucking inconvenient, of course it’s happening to Jiang Cheng. “Thank you, Lan-ge… uhm… Lan Xichen.”

How should he address him? Apparently, he’s sort of a family friend (Where and why did Jiejie even meet him? Why didn’t he ask?) but now he’s also taking care of Jiang Cheng in a professional, sort of medical sense...

Lan Xichen is, of course, not oblivious to his discomfort, but smiles and pours him some more tea. “Whatever you feel comfortable with. Laoshi is fine, too.”

Lan Xichen then goes through a few formalities with him. He informs him he’s being paid per session, not by the hour, so they’ll never have to hurry. They exchange phone numbers, in case someone needs to reschedule or Lan Xichen wants to send him some exercises or something. Jiang Cheng only smiles and nods and agrees. When Lan Xichen proposes they have the first session tomorrow afternoon, Jiang Cheng smiles and nods, too.

After, Lan Xichen escorts him to the door, wishes him a lovely evening, says he’s looking forward to their sessions and Jiang Cheng should remember to wear something comfortable. When he smiles again, Jiang Cheng almost walks into the door.

As soon as Jiang Cheng arrives home, he calls his sister.

“A-Cheng! How was it?”

“Uhm, fine, but that’s not why-”

“He’s very handsome, isn’t he?”

“I… what? Why… why would you bring that up?” Jiang Cheng gives his phone a side-eye, even though his sister can’t see it.

“Well, it’s impossible to not notice. And he has such a lovely personality, too.” Jiang Yanli says this as casually as though she’s talking about the weather.

“Yes… I guess.” While both of those things are true, it’s unlike his sister to bring it up. Or at least, to bring it up so quickly and directly. “Jiejie, how do you know Lan Xichen again? Where did you meet?”

“Oh… he came over for tea recently.”

“And why did he do that?”

“Because I invited him.”

Well, his sister clearly is keeping something from him, something connected to his old-new crush and physical therapist and Jiang Cheng hates not being in the know when other people are clearly keeping secrets from him.

“How did you meet him? Why did you invite him? Why do you not want to tell me?”

“A-Cheng…”

Oh, of course. “Wei Wuxian.”

Jiang Yanli sighs audibly, probably frowning in the way she always does when they skirt around the topic of him and Wei Wuxian not talking. “Yes. Lan Xichen is-”

“I don’t want to know!” Of course this has something to do with Wei Wuxian. Because he can’t have anything in his life without Wei Wuxian. Are they… they’re not dating or anything, right? That would just be… actually that would be fucking typical.

“Jiang Cheng!”

“I didn’t do anything!” Is his sister… getting cross with him???

“I just… he misses you.”

“Yeah? I don’t see any evidence of that!” His headache is back with a vengeance.

“Because you’re not looking. Because you’ve convinced yourself he doesn’t!” It’s rare for Jiang Yanli to raise her voice, and compared to Jiang Cheng, she still sounds gentle. But he can hear her frustration, hear how tiring this is for her, and… He sometimes forgets he and Wei Wuxian aren’t the only people who are involved in this. Who suffer.

“Then why doesn’t he call me? He obviously still has my number!”

“Why don’t you call him?”

Because he doesn’t want to call someone who doesn’t want him. Because he doesn’t want Wei Wuxian to come back because he feels pity or obligation. Because he’s scared Wei Wuxian would still not come back.

“He’s the one who left.”

“It’s been over a year. Can’t you… I’m so tired of holding louder than normal conversations with my husband in the kitchen while one of you is in the living room, so you know the other is okay without actually asking for it.”

“A-jie, I’m sorry. I didn’t know… I… It’s just… “ Great, now Jiang Cheng feels mad at Wei Wuxian, guilty for upsetting his sister, who should never be upset, and sad… because he misses his stupid brother, doesn’t he.

“I can’t force either of you to make the first step, but… you’re both suffering. A-Cheng, I just want you both to be happy.” Now she just sounds resigned. Fuck.

“I know. I’m sorry. I’ll… I’ll think about it. I promise.” If only because his sister deserves better than this - being stuck in the middle between them.

“Thank you. I love you, A-Cheng.”

“… Love you, too.”

“Now, tell me about your meeting today. Did you already get a massage?”

Right. Lan Xichen. “Jiejie… is Wei Wuxian dating Lan Xichen?”

Jiang Yanli laughs. “No. No, no. He’s dating his brother. Don’t worry.”

“I wasn’t worrying! Just… wanted to know how you met.”

“He’s very handsome, isn’t he?”

“Stop asking that! That’s not why I… you know what, I have to go. I have… university… stuff. Talk to you later!”

“Bye!”

He can hear his sister still laughing when he ends the call. Mortifying. Why did he have to ask?

Wei Wuxian is dating Lan Xichen’s brother… That’s… Why is the world so fucking tiny? He couldn’t have picked anyone else?

Not that it matters. It’s not like Jiang Cheng was ever gonna do anything about… Lan Xichen is attractive and nice and lovely, which is simply a fact. Like his sister said, it’s impossible to not notice. Doesn’t have to mean anything. Jiang Cheng will only concentrate on… being less tense and maybe having fewer headaches.

And maybe… thinking… about… contacting Wei Wuxian…

“He misses you.”

Jiang Cheng is not convinced.

But…

#Xicheng #mdzs #cql #the untamed #Jiang Cheng #Lan Xichen #Jiang Cheng/Lan Xichen #background Wangxian #Modern AU #angst but not too angsty #they're also very soft #betty drabbles #To Meet You verse

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black-streak · 4 years

Text

Waiting for the Worms - Outside the Wall

Part 19

Hey guys, very short, laid back chapter. I finished up writing my timari spitefest work and then immediately had a 6 month old puppy brought into my life. She likes sleeping on my hand. If you guys want, I'll post a picture of her, but the point is that writing may slow down significantly due to training and cuddles. Sorry this is almost more of a filler.

Wonderfully patient CLOSED taglist: @northernbluetongue @thethirdwheelfriend @shizukiryuu @theatreandcomicfreak @michellemagic @karategirl119 @moonlightstar64 @my-name-is-michell @mystery-5-5 @zalladane @queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm @miraculousdisapointment @dorkus-minimus @jardimazul @allthebooksandcrannies @g-arya @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @persephonescat @mycupisbroken @luciferge @18-fandoms-unite-08 @dawnwave16 @alwaysreblogneverpost @kris-pines04 @emjrabbitwolf @mysteriouslyswimmingfan-blo-blog @weird-pale-blonde-person @you-will-never-know-how-i-think @kokotaru @naclychilli @slytherinhquinn @clumsy-owl-4178 @ladybug-182 @darkthunder1589 @evil-elf16 @dast218 @lysslovsanime @emilytopaz @naoryllis @iloontjeboontje @thepeacetea @danielslilangel @finallyaniguana @i-like-fairytail-and-stuff @vixen-uchiha @yuulxd @bleeding-heart-romantic @magic-inthe-stars @st0rmy-w1th1n

~---~

Walking through the portal, Jason took in the sight of his team dropping their transformations one at a time, taking no mind to the kid who walked in behind him. Guess it didn't really matter. What are the chances he would recognize them in any manner that mattered? Plus, they wanted the kid to feel comfortable here. That he could trust them.

Marinette walked over to him, barely glancing at the awkward Robin standing out of place.

"Alright, reprieve is over. You'll never adjust to your body this way," she said with an apologetic smile, lacing their fingers together and both loosening their crushing grip on their bond they'd been holding for the last two hours. As they both relaxed their minds, they slipped back into their own bodies, souls settling happily into their rightful place.

Placed properly, Jason turned towards the Robin in the room, offering a lopsided smirk, "Welcome to the shitshow."

He shuffled his feet, "I don't plan…"

"On staying. Yes, we know Timothy. It's okay," Marinette helped him out, smile soft.

His shoulders tensed and narrowed eyes stared them down, staying quiet.

"Look, replacement, we're not trying to intimidate you or anything. We know Bruce's identity. Comes with being one of his charity cases, you know? It's not difficult to figure out which kid ended up in his care next," he intoned, trying to help Timothy see their lack of intentions towards revealing his identity.

"We only thought it fair you should be made aware of what exactly we know. I imagine it would be quite unsettling to think you had the upper hand on us only to find out later that we knew the whole time," Marinette chimed in next.

They watched as his face screwed up with an off put expression only to nod his assent, "That would bother me more, yeah."

"My name is Marinette," she put her hand out towards him, waiting patiently.

"Tim," he carefully shook her hand, staying almost formal despite the informal correction, "So the part about you getting stuck in the former Robin's body during his death. That's why you share the madness you mentioned before?"

"Lazarus Pit insanity. So fun. Definitely recommend," Jason decided to butt in, noticing the way Tim focused on Marinette the moment they switched bodies, "we were both dipped in a way, though she got the short end of the stick. My body, her soul."

"So some of it transferred due to it contaminating her soul then?" Tim asked, finally looking at him.

"Pretty much. Splitting it up this way makes it easier to handle," Marinette answered.

Tim seemed to consider this for a moment, "why are you answering me so willingly?"

"What purpose would hiding it serve?" He countered, receiving a surprised silence in response.

"I'm sorry you had to witness that out there. I'm sure that couldn't have been pleasant," Marinette slowly brought her hand to his shoulder, leaving plenty of time to move if the kid decided the contact was unwanted. When Tim allowed it, eyes still almost glaring, she smiled up at Jason and led the boy further into the room while he followed behind.

Zeroing in on where Marc stood on the phone, he gave a curious look only for Marc to end the call and curiously glance at the screen before turning back to the room at large, "That was Alfred. He can't make it here for a few days due to the giant man baby that's currently throwing a fit, but apparently someone else will be coming by tomorrow to speak to you two," This was partially directed towards Tim, but mostly to himself, "Said one would know her as a bat, the other as the eye in the sky."

"Barbara's coming? Oh great! It's been entirely too long since we've seen her!" Mari perked up, "did he say when to expect her?"

"Around eleven," they easily replied, picking their way over towards the trio, "sorry about holding you down by the way. Couldn't let you get caught up in that mess. My name is Marc," was directed at Robin.

"So… you were the mice?"

"They were the mice, yes. I'm Juleka. I was the one who brought you to the portal."

"The fox then, and you were likely the cat?" Tim directed towards Kagami.

"Kagami. In the next room over is Chloe."

"The one who opened the portal."

Jason felt a strange sense of appreciation for how quickly Tim placed the identities together. As well as a sense of dread. This kid was too bright, too sharp, based on what Mari told him, to be so easily fooled by Bruce. To not see how toxic that environment was. What happened to his replacement to make him so willing to overlook it all?

At this point a small hand slipped into his as Chloe introduced herself to the boy, having entered the room a moment before. Looking down, he took note of Damian huddling closer to him, watching the scene unfold.

"Another one?" The kid grumbled, tightening the grip on his hand and looking none too pleased, "I know you said I'd have to adjust to new people, but isn't this a bit much?"

"I don't know, kid, you seem pretty accepting of me," Jason tilted his head, watching the kid stiffen slightly, a blush overcoming his face.

"I hadn't realized you changed back yet," Damian replied, though he remained gripping his hand as they watched Tim interact with the others, "Will they all leave already?" The kid added, drawing his eyes back down to the uncomfortable shifting. Glancing at the clock, he figured he might as well indulge Damian every now and then.

"Chloe, lead the herd, would you?" He asked, maintaining eye contact to get his point across.

"Alright you lot, time to head out. Surely Robin won't be too comfortable around all of us for very long."

There was a touch of an argument over this, but eventually the team picked themselves up around the apartment and headed out, saying they might stay away for a few days. Jason caught the grateful smile on Marinette's face and took his small victory in how Damian pulled him back a little when he moved, as though afraid he might leave as well.

When the apartment quieted down and everything went still, he took a deep breath and led the kid over towards the kitchen, feeling Marinette move behind him to follow. He set a pot onto the stove and filled it with milk to heat up, turning to look through the cabinets while it heated up, "Have you ever had Hot Chocolate, kid?"

"You mean melted? Once. I was given a piece to hide, but it melted a bit," Damian answered, sounding disappointed, though at only having it once or having to admit letting it melt, he wasn't sure, "Why?"

"Not quite what I meant. But I'll take it as a no. We're gonna have some tonight then," Jason responded, pulling down a bag of milk chocolate chips. They'd have to do. He pulled his hand up to ruffle the kid's hair, chuckling as he yanked back with a sneer, shuffling over to duck into Marinette's side, who'd been holding easy conversation with Tim all the while, carefully not commenting on the way the Robin pulled off his mask carefully and was beginning to calm down now that there weren't as many people. Jason chose this moment to eavesdrop, now that he no longer had to occupy Damian.

"Why's the new one still here?"

"Damian, this is Tim. He needed a place to stay."

"Why does it have to be here?"

"The same one who wronged Jason and I has wronged him as well. I imagine being around people who understand his position and won't judge him helps."

Jason chose to speak up now, "Marinette took you in when you had no one. When the two of you understood each other and felt connected for it. That's how you came to be family. He and I have a similar understanding."

"So he is family to you?"

"Nah, think more like when you first met her."

"You are… Wanting to protect him despite not personally knowing him. Instinct."

"Now you got it," he responded, pouring four mugs of the beverage, ignoring the calculating gaze between his shoulder blades. Then went about handing them out despite Tim's reassurance that he was fine, "drink it or don't, won't bother me either way, but I'm not going to leave you out."

Damian remained silent up until this point, observing the young teen curiously before passing his final judgement, "okay, as long as he sticks with you," the unspoken threat to keep away from Marinette did not go unheard.

"No one will take your place in my heart, little one. That place was created for you. If I become close to anyone else, they'll have to find their own place. Yours is occupied," she assured, as they both pretended not to hear his unbelieving grumbles. That lesson would be learned with time.

Through it all, Tim kept to himself, sipping slowly and watching their interactions. Jason couldn't know what the boy thought, but if he had to wager a guess, he probably felt suspicious over how open and honest they were. Confused by their relation to Damian, but unsure if it was safe to ask. Likely, the teen just wasn't sure what to make of it all and wouldn't for quite a while.

It'll take time and reassurance, probably even multiple visits from Alfred and Barbara to convince Tim that this was a safe place for him, but they had time to spend.

#maribat #jasonette #ml x dc #WFTW #part 19 #Alfred and Barbara will be in part 20

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thebluestbluewords · 3 years

Text

I haven't watched D2 in almost a year please forgive me

This is 1800 words of NONSENSE about PIRATES except there's actually no named pirates appearing in this section yet.

He’d been taking a walk.

The isle isn’t safe, obviously. It’s a prison colony, full of the worst of the worst, shaken up and left to stew in their own anger and his family’s incompetence for twenty years. Of course it’s not going to be a safe place for little Auradon boys to linger.

He’d gone less than a block. Hadn’t been planning on going any further. It’s an emotional whiplash, going from being upset because his girlfriend is secretly using magic to cope with Auradon life instead of just talking to him about it, to breaking up because she’s decided she can’t cope with life outside of the place she grew up.

It’s oversimplifying. There’s a lot more to it than just not being able to cope, but it’s hard to see that through the sheer hurt that’s stuck in Ben’s chest. They’d been doing well, until all of sudden they weren’t, and there was no time in between to try and fix things. Always jumping to the most extreme solution, that’s Mal. And it’s something he likes about her, usually! She’s got wild solutions for things, and she’s able to come up with the most outrageous ideas and play them off like they’re absolutely nothing, and she--

Doesn’t want to live in the same country as him anymore.

Yeah.

So that sucks.

Bringing Mal back home is more important than whatever concerns he’s got about their romantic future together.. No matter what’s going on emotionally, it’s still not right to leave her alone back on the island that they just brought her over from. There’s garbage burning in the streets here! The food stalls all have signs about limited supplies and taking what you can get, and the amount of knives and weapons on the average person walking down the street here isn’t exactly unexpected, but it’s just… it’s a lot. It’s not like he’s completely unaware of his surroundings! On the isle of villains, it’s important to stay alert. He gets that. It’s just that emotional turmoil, combined with the little fact that he’s all of sixteen and he’s pretty sure his heart is breaking, might be distracting him. Just a little bit.

Nobody ever expects to be grabbed by a giant guy and yanked into an alley, okay?

“Urg?” Ben manages to say, around the hand that’s being clamped over his mouth. “Eahhh?”

“Don't talk,” the mystery voice behind him directs. It’s not the person who’s holding him, so that’s bad. Being outnumbered is bad. “We’re taking you to see our captain, and if you run we have instructions to make that...significantly more difficult for you.”

Ben nods. There’s something tapping threateningly at his kneecaps, and he’s pretty sure he knows what the voice means by making it harder to run. He’s broken a bone once, when he was a kid and tried to climb the tree in his mom’s favorite glade, and fell out. If riding back to the castle with a broken arm had hurt, he doesn’t even want to imagine what being dragged along by a villain with a broken leg might feel like.

“Good,” the voice says, like it’s funny. Oh. They don’t use that word here, so it’s a joke about him. “We’d like to bring you back in one piece, your highness, so just keep cooperating and maybe this won’t go so bad for you after all.”

“Mmh” Ben agrees. He’s sort of afraid to nod, in case the arm around his throat tries to squeeze any harder, but it feels like a good move to go along with whatever this pair wants. Oh god. Hopefully it’s just the two of them, and then whatever captain they’re bringing him to.

There’s definitely more than just the two of them.

Oh no.

The big guy, or maybe a girl, actually, it’s sort of impossible to tell with the way he’s just being held against some very large and solid person, starts to tie his hands behind his back.

Okay, there’s the panic now.

Ben wants out, he wants his hands, he wants to breathe, he’s-- okay, hyperventilating doesn’t help anything. He’s been taught how to break out of hand ties, but it’s not going to help if there’s another person right there, and they’ve already said to cooperate, so--

Breathe.

“Should we just drug him?” someone is saying. “Might be faster than all of this tying and blindfolding business.”

“I dunno if I can carry this much deadweight, bro.” another voice says. Still not the person holding him still. So there’s at least three of them, great. “He’s pretty big for a prince charming.”

“I can carry ‘im” says a new voice, and oh, this is the person holding him, finally. There might be just the three of them. Not that it makes much of a difference, but it’s some sort of knowledge that Ben can cling to here. “Get his hands and feet, and I can do it.”

“‘on’t enfg.” Ben manages, around the hand that’s still clamped over his mouth. “omise.”

“Gil, just let him talk,” the first voice says again. “He’s obviously not going to stop trying, so just, give him a little air.”

“‘Kay,” the holding-person (Gil, the big one is Gil) says agreeably. “Hey, I wasn’t holding you too tight, was I? You can still breathe, and stuff?”

“I can breathe,” Ben says, once he’s gotten in a good lungful of air that doesn’t taste like stale sweat. “I won’t try anything, I swear.”

“Ooh, he swore,” says the bro voice, clearly delighted with this turn of events. “I think we might need a little insurance for that, little prince.”

There’s some sort of motion, and then a noise that sounds an awful lot like a knife being sharpened, and then a bright, sharp pain in Ben’s side.

“Hey!” the first voice says, clearly annoyed at this turn of events. “You didn’t have to stab him! Uma wanted him brought back in one piece!”

“He won’t be able to run this way,” the bro says, sounding annoyed. “It’s not gonna hurt him, just make it harder to run. It’s barely a scratch.”

“He’s bleeding. You’re gonna leave evidence.” the first one, who seems to be the brains of the operation, says. “Hey, no, don’t make that noise. Shut up. Look when you did!”

Ben doesn’t want to be making this noise either. He’s just as unhappy as the ringleader is about this, really. He didn’t want to get stabbed.

“Oh my evil, just pick him up, Gil.” the first person says. “Hey, prince charming. We’ll get you stitched up once you’re down at the ship, okay? Just like, shut up about it. You’ll be in worse shape if we drop you here for someone else to find, and they won’t be so nice about keeping you alive either.”

It hurts. Jesus fucking christ, it hurts. “You stabbed me?” Ben somehow warbles, between the fucking agonized breathing he’s doing to try and get the involuntary pain noises under control. “You fucking- stabbed me?”

He’s being lifted off his feet now, and cradled up like a baby against somebody’s broad chest.

“Just a little bit.” the bro-voice says as they start moving. “Insurance, bro. Can’t have you getting away from us now, ya know?”

“I just said I wouldn’t run.” Ben points out, gritting his teeth against another jolt as the person carrying him picks up speed. “I wouldn’t’ve lied about that if I knew you were going to stab me.”

“Get over it.” the brains of the kidnapping says. “Drop him in the cart Gil, we can just wheel him down the rest of the way.”

They tie him to the mast.

“Can I take my phone out of my pocket first?” Ben asks, as they’re pinning him down to tie him up again, more efficiently this time. “It’s going to leave a bruise if I keep it there, and I don’t care if you want to break it or sell it or anything.”

The pirates find this absolutely hysterical.

They do let him take his phone out of his pocket first, so that’s something.

Being kidnapped is sort of boring, when it comes down to it. The pirates are clealty waiting for something, but it’s not entirely clear what. True to their word from earlier, they do let someone (a girl with messy black hair and a bright red bandanna, who doesn’t seem especially fazed by the situation as a whole) slap a bandage on him. It’s not quite as good as not being stabbed in the first place would have been, but the girl had poked around for a while and announced that he didn’t need stitches, and then done what seems on the whole to be a very tidy job of cleaning and wrapping the cut.

It still hurts, because some lunatic with a knife did in fact stab him, but after the morning Ben’s had so far, things are honestly looking up.

One of the pirates sits down next to him.

“Want some water?” they ask, holding out a battered plastic cup.

Huh. “Um, sure?” Ben says.

The pirate tips it up to his mouth, and lets him get in a good three or four swallows before pulling the cup back and throwing the rest over his head.

“Uma’s still out.” they inform him. “But we’ve sent a runner down to the chip shop, so she should be coming up any minute now.”

“Uh. Okay.” Ben says. “Is that your captain?”

The pirate looks at him. “Yeah,” they say. “She is.”

There’s some sort of challenge there, but Ben is so far out of his depth right now that he can’t even make out what the shape of it might be. “Does she have demands, or something?” he asks. “I can’t guarantee that they’ll be met, but if you send a message out to my father he’ll probably give you something in exchange.”

The pirates stares up at him, shaking their head slowly. “Unbelievable,” the pirate says, “Fuckin’ Auradon kids. Do they really keep you stupid on purpose over there?”

“No?” Ben tries. “I can try to bargain for whatever you want. There’s some privateering work off the southern isles right now, and I don’t know that they’ll take kids on their own, but we’ve been working towards isle reform policies and there’s a pretty good chance they’ll go through in a few years and--” Shut up, the lunatics who kidnapped (kingnapped?) you don’t care about legitimate privateering work and the slow, torturous process that’s been trying to push isle reforms through the council while still only controlling about 40% of the vote. “Um, that is, we can meet your demands.” Ben finishes. “If you have them.”

The kid shakes their head again. “Unbelievable.” they say again, and leave.

Okay, then.

#my fic #descendants fanfiction #descendants fandom #I set out this morning to try and write some confusingly sexy kidnapping fic and I don't think this is quite what I was aiming for

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smile-hotch · 4 years

Text

Vibe - Aaron Hotchner

hello and welcome to this kind of different blurb for Aaron. it is inspired by 123456 by Fitz and the Tantrums.

warnings: age gap between reader and Aaron

word count: 1,944

After a long case, the team was penned up in Los Angeles for another full day due to the weather and jet not being able to take off. It was thundering and raining outside, something that made you want to curl up in the hotel and watch a few movies for the night, but a few members of the group had convinced the rest to go out clubbing in the weather.

There was a young-crowd club across the street from the hotel that everyone had agreed upon, solely on location, and you thought it would be a good chance to get a few drinks and unwind.

You wore a sleeveless, silky, red top you normally would wear under a suit jacket. It was cut rather low, and was almost inappropriate for work, but it was one of your favorites. It made you feel sexy. You wore a pair of black tight jeans with it, a pair you always packed with your go-bag for cases like this, and you shrugged on your rain jacket over yourself quickly, hiding yourself.

You met the team in the lobby, and as you waited for Emily and Spencer, you ordered a drink at the hotel bar. Derek, Dave, Aaron, and JJ watched you with an amused look on their face. You looked up as you sipped it, realizing they were watching you. “What,” you laughed into your drink, “I am pre-gaming.”

JJ laughed then, leaning against the bar. “What a good idea,” she told you. She was about to order a drink, but Derek spoke then.

“Better finish that quick, (Y/N), here comes Emily and Spencer, and I am not waiting any more for you all. There are ladies waiting on me,” he said smugly and stood straight. His hands were in his pockets, and in all honest, he looked rather attractive tonight, but you never felt that way about Derek.

Again, you laughed, and tilted the brown drink back quickly, finish it at one shot. You made a face but smiled after. “Ready,” you commented and quickly dug in the pocket of your raincoat, paying the bartender and leaving a tip.

“Are you already drinking?” Emily asked with a laugh. She wore a long sleeve top, one that was tight to her skin, and jeans much like your own.

“Pre-gaming,” Dave answered for you, causing the group to laugh at your expense. It didn’t really bother you. You were proud of who you were, and it took a lot for you to get embarrassed.

You giggled, feeling heat in your chest from the alcohol already consumed as the team began walking to the door. You were such a lightweight. You fell into pace with Aaron, observing the plain black button down he wore and black slacks. “You look nice,” you told him quietly, so only he would hear. It was true, he did look nice, but to you, it was absolutely alluring. This was dressed down for him, and you were sure it was the most casual thing he had in his bag, other than pajamas, but it was perfect.

He raised an eyebrow to you, but smiled. “Thank you,” he said and glanced at your outfit. He remained quiet then, obviously curious as to what you were wearing under your raincoat.

You and Aaron always had an odd relationship. It wasn’t quite what you would classify as flirty, but it was as close as you could get with flirty with your boss. You always found him to be oddly attractive, with his mysterious-like personality and lingering eyes on you. There was something there, you knew it, and you just had to figure out how to get it out of him.

As you got to know him more and more, the two of you became extremely close. In fact, you met Jack on a couple of occasions, and you typically went to Aaron when you were frustrated or had any issues whatsoever. He was always there for you, and you were always there for him.

The group rushed across the street, only getting a little wet, other than you, with your raincoat. When you entered the club, a bouncer at the door took your coat as you shrugged it off, revealing your low-cut shirt. You felt eyes on you, from members of your team and others at the bar.

“Damn, (Y/N),” Emily commented as you threw your hair over your shoulder, laughing. She eyed you up and down dramatically, causing a chorus of laughs to sound around you. You spun showing yourself off, adding to the laughs.

Derek threw an arm over you, scanning the bar. “We are going to have to fight the men off you tonight, aren’t we?” He teased as he released you then, moving into the crowd.

You giggled, scrunching up your nose slightly. The group began dispersing, and you leaned towards your boss, shouting over the music. “Want to get a drink?” He nodded, the ghost of a smile on his lips, and he followed closely behind you as you weaved through the crowd of young bodies. They were all you and Spencer’s age, making Aaron one of the older members of the crowd. Not as old as Dave, though.

Once you made it to the bar, you ordered two drinks that Aaron couldn’t hear the name of, and you leaned your back to the counter as you surveyed the room. Derek was already dancing with a group of ladies, making you giggle. You leaned close to Aaron, your arms brushing, and spoke. “It looks like Derek is not going back to the hotel alone tonight,” you explained and pointed, causing Aaron to laugh as well. You looked at him then, as the bartender handed you two drinks then. You handed one to Aaron and spoke at the same time. “What do you think? Are you going home with someone tonight?” You asked as you raised your eyebrows. You sipped your drink inconspicuously and watched him closely. Unconsciously, your eyes raked up and down his body.

Aaron laughed then, a little harder than before, and shook his head. “I highly doubt that,” he laughed as he, too, took a sip of his drink.

You gave him a wicked look as you took another long drink from the drink. “You never know,” you told him in a blatantly flirtatious matter.

He raised an eyebrow, his mind racing with thoughts of what you could possibly mean. The simply thought of taking you back to his hotel room made his heartbeat quicken. You were significantly younger than him, and his subordinate. It would be completely inappropriate, but he wanted more than anything at that moment. He opened his mouth to say something, but the club roared then as a new song started. “Oh, Aaron, I love this song! Dance with me!” You shouted excitedly.

Before he could protest, you took his hand in yours and began pulling him through the crowd. He took a sip of his drink then, realizing how strong it was, and downed it then. He needed to loosen up. He set his glass on a table you passed, and once you got to the center of the dance floor, you began dancing close to Aaron.

I’m sick of feeling the lows, I want to roll with the highs

Your hips moved perfectly with the music he was unfamiliar with. Your arms were up, holding your glass in one hand, and your eyes were fluttering shut as you danced. His mouth ran dry as he watched you, and a hunger for you developed that he didn’t know he was capable of.

Hyped up, ready to go, I got my eyes on the prize

He realized he wasn’t dancing then, and slowly started moving, not to the beat of the music. You laughed at this as he took your drink and finished it as well. “I’m too old for this,” he laughed gently and set the glass on a nearby table.

“Good thing I like older men, then,” you said with wild eyes and placed your hands on his shoulders, making him move with you.

Shout it out, shout it out, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, Do you feel the vibe yet?

Your body got closer and closer, your hands remained on his shoulders, until your bodies were brushing against each other. “If you aren’t okay with this, I understand. Just say the word,” you told him in a serious voice as you leaned in close to his ear, so he could hear.

Aaron swallowed hard. “I am too okay with this,” he admitted huskily. Song after song changed, and about an hour later, you and Aaron were both sweating but smiling.

Finally, as the song was changing, you took his hand and led him back towards the bar. Still shouting over the music, you turned to him. “Do you want to get out of here?” You asked with an odd look in your eyes that he didn’t quite recognize.

Aaron nodded and allowed you lead him to the door, stopping to get your coat from the bouncer, and then stepped out into the chilly rain. The music still bumped in the background, but was mostly muffled. “It was so hot in there,” you half-panted as you and Aaron waited for cars to stop and let you cross the road.

Again, he nodded, but smirked lightly. “You seem to go to clubs often,” he commented. The two of you crossed the road as you laughed.

“I used to,” you answered as you shook your wet hair out and entered the lobby of the hotel. “Not so much anymore. That was the first time I’ve been in a while. I actually wanted to stay in tonight and watch a few movies,” you added as you walked towards the elevators. Neither of you spoke about where you were going, but still walked in sync.

He hummed. “I didn’t realize you could move like that.”

You blushed as you stepped onto the elevator. You had calmed down from when you were in the club, and your cheeks felt hot at the thought of how close you were with Aaron, your superior. “I’m sorry, I was just vibing. I got pretty carried away,” you apologized as you looked down at the coat you had in your hands.

Aaron smiled gently as the elevator doors opened. You both paused just outside of them and stared at each other. Aaron checked his watch. “It’s not too late to start watching movies, like you wanted to. If you still want to,” he observed and put his hands in his pockets.

You, too, glanced at the dainty watch on your wrist. “I suppose not,” you agreed and began walking towards your door. He was obviously dismissing you.

“I must have been unclear,” Aaron started as he followed close on your heels, causing you to turn in confusion. “Do you want to come in?” He asked and nodded to his own door. “And watch a movie?” He asked sheepishly and refused to break eye contact with you. You had never seen Aaron like this. So unsure of himself, and worried about what you would say.

Your cheeks felt warmer than ever, and you fought a smile from breaking out too wide on your face. “That sounds great, actually,” you admitted and held your hand out. You let him lead you this time, into his hotel room.

Do you feel the vibe yet?

#aaron #aaron hotchner #Aaron Hotch Hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds fic #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds preference #aaron hotchner fluff

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winryofresembool · 4 years

Text

Things We Lost in the Fire, ch 2

Aka Caleo uni AU

Fic summary: Calypso starts studying at a new university, but to her annoyance her new flatmate is a loud mouthed mechanic who also likes to sneak his dog in whenever. But as she learns to know him better, she realizes they might have more in common than what she first thought. Eventually, even the darkest secrets come out...

Chapter summary: Leo visits his new family.

A/N: This chapter was a lot of fun to write because of Leo's pov! For those who may not have read The Dark Prophecy, Jo and Emmie basically adopt Leo and Calypso and Leo even says Jo reminds him of his mom at one point so I wanted to include that to this story! Also, to be clear about this, Leo still lives in the same town with them but wanted some independence once he started uni so he moved into a flat a year before the events of this story.

Thanks to Cris again for helping me out when I needed it the most! Now, please enjoy this chapter and remember that feedback would really be loved because otherwise it's hard to motivate myself to continue this story!

Words: 1400+

Genre: gen (this ch), romance & hurt/comfort in the future

Warnings: none

previous chapter / next chapter / AO3

...

Festus barked happily as he and his owner drove to the familiar yard of Waystation. For 4 years, Leo had had the honor of calling this place his home, and even now that he was already 19, he was still as happy to go there as in the first time after finding out that the two wonderful ladies living there would be adopting him. For the first time in 7 years he had felt he belonged somewhere. He had never met his biological father, and after his mother’s death (about which he still did not want to talk) he had been going from foster home to foster home, occasionally running away and living in the streets because the families did /not/ understand him. Not even his own relatives had accepted him.

Finally, his road had brought him to Indianapolis where he had sort of by accident met a family of two elderly women, Josephine and Hemethea (or as Leo knew them, Jo and Emmie), and their adopted daughter Georgina. It had been the happiest accident of his life; somehow the women knew exactly how to handle a troubled and traumatized 15-year-old. As an added bonus, Josephine was just as interested in mechanics as he was, and she had taught him a lot. The now 10-year-old Georgina called Leo her brother and when he was home, she followed him everywhere. Festus, whom Leo had gotten as an 18th birthday present, liked Waystation too: it offered him way more space to run around than the student flat in New York.

The brown haired girl was already waiting for Leo by the door when he got there, and even though she was almost as tall as Leo was (Leo claimed he had gotten his short genes from his nonexistent father), he scooped her into his arms and swung her around a few times. The girl giggled excitedly until she wanted to get back on the ground to pet Festus. Leo complied and soon he was surrounded by his adoptive mothers, both gray haired and strong built for their age. They were worried about whether Leo remembered to eat now that he was living on his own because he was so skinny (“I’m an excellent cook, Jo! Stop worrying!”), but secretly he was happy about the attention he got.

Eventually the family settled down and started asking Leo questions about how things were going in his uni town. He told them everything from his most recent mechanic job to his upcoming courses in the mechanical engineering program, but conveniently he avoided mentioning his new flatmate. Of course his mothers noticed that and looked at each other significantly before asking:

“So, it’s been a while since Jason moved away. Any word on a new flatmate yet?”

Leo did not know what force made him blush (he liked to think he did not blush often), but he did. The thought of his infuriating, annoying, rude… beautiful (he quickly pushed that thought away) flatmate seemed to cause that kind of reaction a little too often for his liking. They had known each other only for a few days and already she was driving him nuts in more than one way. She was arrogant. She seemed to think she was better than him (which, mind you, Leo was not disagreeing with because his self loathing still occasionally got the better of him despite the therapy and his mothers’ attempts to talk to him). She managed to make an argument about the smallest of things and good gods, that girl was still angry about the desk even though he had offered to fix it. What could he do in a situation like that?

But the years as a runaway had also taught Leo to interpret people pretty well, and he sensed that there was something much more under that hard cover that Calypso was holding up. Something fragile and soft that he simply couldn’t reach yet. When she thought Leo didn’t notice, there was a hint of sadness in her eyes that felt very familiar to him even though he couldn’t put a name on it. And damn it if she wasn’t the prettiest girl he had seen at the university campus with that caramel colored hair and dark mysterious eyes. Not that he’d admit that to her. Ever.

He was so distracted by his thoughts he only realized he still hadn’t answered to the question until he felt the burning gazes directed at him.

“Uh… yeah! I do have a new flatmate now,” he finally admitted. The blush seemed to persistently stay on his cheeks.

Instead of asking directly who that mysterious person was, Emmie decided to take a different approach. “Oh… That’s nice, isn’t it? To have someone to remind you to actually go to your lectures and not work 24/7?” There was a hint of warning in her tone; she did know that Leo was still processing a lot in his head, and when things got particularly overwhelming, he tended to drown his feelings into his work and forget to rest. Which, Emmie supposed, was still better than the experiments he had done as a 15-year-old before they finally managed to help him, but at this rate he might burn out some day. There was a lot of fire inside him, she knew, but if he didn’t remember to turn it off, he wouldn’t last long.

Leo didn’t agree with her. “It’s… she’s not that kind of person. She doesn’t really talk to me a lot anyway.”

“She?” Jo asked curiously. Among other things, she was aware of Leo’s soft spot for pretty girls. That would certainly explain why he was blushing and acting grumpy when asked questions about her.

“Focus on the relevant things, Josephine.” Leo usually called Josephine and Hemethea with their nicknames instead of ‘mother’ or ‘mom’ because he wanted to save that word for his dead mother. But when he wanted to let his adoptive mothers know he was unhappy with them, he sometimes used the full name. “I was gonna say that when she does talk to me she usually likes to argue, and it’s super frustrating.”

“Alright, spit it out,” Jo said in her direct manner. “What did you do to the poor girl to madden her so?”

“Hey!” Leo protested, offended that she would think it was all his fault. “Who said I did anything? I didn’t! Well…” he finally gave in, “Festus did… but it wasn’t his fault, the desk was flimsy!”

“Flimsy desk? Please elaborate.”

“We carried Calypso’s desk,” Leo swallowed, realizing he said her name aloud for the first time, and it tasted weirdly good in his mouth. Even though he was mad at her. Which he definitely was. “… into our flat but I left my door unlocked for a moment so Festus got out of my room and… he may have jumped on it,” he finished sheepishly.

“Oh,” Emmie said understandingly. “But you’re a handy young man; did you not offer to fix it?”

“I did!” Leo grunted. “But she didn’t accept my offer!”

Emmie looked at him thoughtfully. “I don’t know her but maybe she was simply too proud to accept your help. She doesn’t know you yet so she doesn’t know how good you are at fixing and tuning things. But trust me; I’m sure she’ll be more than happy when she sees what Leo Valdez is capable of.”

Leo had to admit that the older woman had pulled from exactly the right strings. That was how you encouraged him to do something.

“Fine,” he nodded finally. “I’ll see what I can do when I go back.”

“Anyway,” Jo smirked slyly. “Tell us more about this Calypso! What does she study? What does she look like?”

“She’s a history nerd and she smells like some spice you often put into your bakings… hold on… cinnamon! But…”

Leo saw his mothers’ expressions and immediately stopped when he realized he had said too much. “That’s it, tía Jo, I know what you’re thinking and I’m saying no. Georgie, Festus, let’s go to play or something. These two seem to have gotten some weird ideas…” He shook his head as he gestured the two to follow him.

When the trio had left the room, the elderly couple burst into laughter. It would definitely be interesting to see what Leo’s story with his new flatmate would develop into, they concluded.

#caleo #leo valdez #calypso #heroes of olympus #percy jackson and the olympians #trials of apollo #my fics #caleo uni au

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roaminginspiration · 4 years

Text

Before The Last Grain

My first true AU ever! No Avengers at all. I hope you’ll enjoy!

Chapter 1

Time is a strange concept. It's impalpable yet heavily perceptible. It can make a moment linger forever or go by fleetly. It stretches or shrinks. It is mysterious and unfathomable.

Or so, it was.

It all changed fifteen years ago when scientists finally deciphered its secret code. At a time when divorces were skyrocketing in the world, a company came up with an algorithm capable of determining when you were to meet your significant other and encapsulated it in the modest form of a watch.

LOVE IS ONLY A TICK AWAY the slogan read on every TV commercial and banner in the streets and online.

Skepticism gave way to curiosity and hope. And as hard as it was to admit— and still is for some — the Watch had startling results. Every encounter predicted led to a successful relationship. Love blossomed everywhere and never perished. The divorce rate fell significantly across the world and the efficiency of the Watch became indisputable.

The principle is astoundingly simple. The Watch activates around the wrist of the wearer the first time it is worn and sets automatically. When the countdown reaches 0, which means you are standing in front of your soulmate, it beeps (along with theirs) then turns off completely.

Of course, a small, trivial object with such power stirs strong opinions. People began to argue over it — some asked to make it illegal and have it banned. The initiative was strongly supported by the main Churches, but not only. Over time, — after the heated debate wore off—, you could pretty much find three categories of people. The overwhelming majority — who wore the Watch and waited expectantly waited for the last tick; the minority — those who'd refused to buy or activate it altogether; and those who knew, but vehemently tried to fight against fate...at their own scale.

Now, whether people live by or abhor it, the Watch has become a trivial object omnipresent in your everyday life. Like a phone or tablet.

The many people currently bustling in the small Manhattan coffee shop are walking past, waiting in line for their orders with a Watch around their wrist. Or not. It's something you don't dwell on.

Natasha Romanoff is sipping coffee at her usual table by the window, right next to the tall plant. She looks up from the book she's reading and notices a man is staring at her from the sugar counter across the room. She dismisses it and goes on to take another sip before resuming her reading. Her cup is nearly empty when a tall, broad figure comes to stand above her.

"Excuse me," a male voice calls. She takes her eyes off of the page and looks up. It is the same man from earlier. He's holding his cup and has a notebook clutched under his arm.

His blue eyes stare into hers with an unexpected combination of boldness and bashfulness.

"I couldn't help admiring you from across the room and, as I was about to leave, I thought I had to take a chance and come and speak to you."

She raises her eyebrow. His advances certainly are flattering. And she'll admit, he is strikingly handsome. His sharp, square jaw, his full lips, and the golden hair, without mentioning his incredible athletic figure — the man has it all.

"May I?" he asks, pointing at the chair across from her.

She nods. He smiles and sits down. He puts down on the table what she realizes is a leather sketchbook, creased in the middle for often being folded with the corners worn out. He attentively watches her.

“You come here a lot?” he asks.

“Probably more than I should,” she says with a smirk. “You?”

“First time, actually. And I’m glad I did.”

The smirk tugging at his lips is compelling. Almost irresistible.

“Yeah. Their lattes sure are the best,” she chimes in. Her humor makes him smile.

They chat, mostly banter in the most natural and familiar way until he finally asks:

“Can I give you my number? See how things could develop…”

She eyes him without a word.

“They wouldn’t develop much unless you are…,” she trails off as she pulls up her sleeve, “3 months, 5 days and 37 minutes early.”

He brushes his thumb over his bottom lip with a slightly stern expression. He takes a breath in and leans back on the chair. His eyes dive into hers, unwavering.

“You didn’t come off as the type to wear the Watch,” he says. He doesn’t sound disappointed or judging. Maybe the contrary intrigued and willing to tackle that unexpected challenge.

“I like to keep people on their toes.”

“3 months, huh? That’s quite close,” he comments.

She smiles unabashedly. He nods to himself.

“I’ll admit I didn’t see this hold-up coming but I’m a good judge of character.”

“And?” she cocks an eyebrow.

He extends his forearms on the table and leans over, creating an unsettling kind of intimacy.

“You’re not the type to let an algorithm take control of your life.”

His bold statement and the quiet confidence he displays draw her in. She smiles and glances away quietly.

“Or maybe I believe in destiny.” A short, contemplative silence follows.

He quickly looks at the clock on the wall across.

“Time seems to be against us today. But I’m pretty stubborn. What’s your name?” he asks, casually.

“Natasha.”

It makes him smile. “Let’s make a deal, Natasha,” he purrs her name like hot and sweet liquor. “If we meet again, you’ll owe me a date. It’ll be my honor to ask you out again.”

“Why would I make such a deal?” she questions daringly.

“Because if we meet again we can definitely agree it was meant to be, right?”

The corner of his mouth curls up. He takes his sketchbook, folds it under his arm then gets up. As he walks away, she calls out.

“If I choose to honor this deal, I should at least know your name.”

His large shoulders spin around. He smiles triumphantly.

“Steve Rogers.”

That evening Natasha Romanoff comes home from work and smiles as she finds herself almost wishing to meet that stranger in the coffee shop again.

_____________________________

2 MONTHS, 30 DAYS, 18 HOURS, 12 MINUTES AND 33 SECONDS

And indeed, they do. It happens very randomly about a week later. Natasha is chatting alongside her colleague and friend Maria Hill at a fancy but relaxed banquet party they have been invited to when she sees him, watching her from across the room. He is standing with a group of people who are laughing loudly, totally oblivious of the scene that seems to unfold in slow motion.

He is wearing an elegant black shirt with sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms with a pair of black trousers. It strikingly contrasts with his light hair and turquoise blue eyes. He is a guest, too, but he has the attention of half the females in the audience without even trying. But he doesn’t seem to notice. His eyes are fixed on her with a satisfying smirk playing on his lips.

He lets the moment linger as a way to savor his victory. And oddly perhaps, she is too. Maybe she likes the thrill of this adventurous curve in the straight and steady path lying ahead of her.

She whispers a couple of words into Maria’s ear, apologizes to her company and goes out on the large terrace looking over Manhattan and its skyline. It only takes a few seconds before she hears him approach.

“Quite a lovely evening, isn’t it?” he says after standing by the guardrail.

“And full of surprises,” she finishes with a smile.

She turns to face him. “Ok, what’s your secret? How’d you know you’d find me here?”

He leans an elbow on the rail and turns towards her, too.

“I didn’t. I’m pleasantly surprised too, to be honest.”

She snorts and shakes her head, then gazes at the floodlit landscape in front of them.

“So how come you were invited? Who are you friends with?”

He points at the exuberant man giving a grandiloquent speech to his assembly.

“I’m Tony Stark’s lawyer.”

She nods to herself. “I guess that explains the whole ‘good judge of character’ talk.”

“Becoming his lawyer may not have been my brightest moment,” he jokes. “And you?”

“I’m a pianist. Stark has been funding many of my concerts across the city.”

“You must be very good at it, then. Tony doesn’t choose to be someone’s patron lightly.”

She smiles silently. She can feel his expectant gaze upon her.

“So…Natasha, will you have dinner with me? And who knows? I might even surprise you.”

His boyish smile forces a giggle out of her. She reaches over to take the flute of champagne in his hand and takes a sip.

“Maybe you already have,” she murmurs.

_______________________________

The date was agreed on for the following Friday in a busy street in Brooklyn. She finds him standing on the sidewalk, hands in his pockets. He is wearing a dark brown leather jacket. She has put on a pair of blue high-waist jeans with a silky maroon cropped top with a jacket. Her hair is up in a bun.

He flashes a wide when he sees her coming up.

“You look stupendous,” he says. For a pair of jeans and a jacket?

“That’s…quite an enthusiastic response.”

He chuckles. “You’ll understand later.”

“So where are we going?” she asks.

“I know a local Italian around the corner. It’s been open for as far as I can remember.”

They make their way there. The interior is as modest as the outside façade. It surprises her — not a common choice for a Wall Street lawyer. He’s not trying to dazzle her and she likes it.

“Steve!” a man calls loudly in a thick Italian accent. He warmly shakes his hand and taps his shoulder then turns to greet Natasha with the same friendly enthusiasm. “Welcome to Giovanni’s, darling. I have kept the best table for you.”

They go and sit and Giovanni lights up the half-used candle.

“They serve the best lasagna. I know, I’ve tried at other places.”

Giovanni casts him the glare. Steve gulps. “Not that many.”

The wine is exquisite in an authentic type of way. There is nothing glittery or arrogant at Giovanni’s but it’s charming all the same. She can see why he’s chosen this place for their first date.

"Of course we could only meet again, and in these circumstances. This is Tony Stark's world and we all live in it," she remarks and they both laugh.

The conversation eventually shifts to the Watch.

“What’s your story? Why aren’t you wearing one?”

“Why should I?” he laughs. “Half my family is obsessed with it and I’m not sure they are any happier.”

“So your family doesn’t share your views?”

“The day my parents got theirs it struck the end of their marriage. My father was never truly involved anyways; it simply gave him an excuse to leave us. My mom’s Watch beeped eventually and she re-married. He’s a nice guy; his wife had passed many years before. They’re doing well. His son — my step-brother — who’s about my age, has patiently been waiting for his Watch to beep.”

“And what’s so wrong about it?” she asks.

He shakes his head. “Call me old-fashioned or stubborn, but I like the idea that I have chosen the person I want to spend the rest of my life with.”

“Some people need a little help, sometimes. It is scary to fall in love.”

“It’s always been. I’m not scared to have my heart broken so long as I allowed it to work.”

She eyes him from behind her glass of red wine.

“You think people don’t fall in love nowadays?”

He stares into her emerald eyes. “I think they forget to be spontaneous.”

They’re words she hasn’t heard in years and that bring back fond nostalgia.

“Spontaneous?” she trails off as she plays with the spoon of her dessert. “Show me.”

He cracks a smile.

He lays bills on the table and gets up, flaunts his leather jacket over his shoulder then stretches a hand out to her. “I was hoping you would ask.”

She looks up at him with inquisitive but beguiled eyes then glances down at his hand. She gently slips her fingers onto his palm.

A couple of minutes later, they are walking along the street. He halts and looks at her.

“Why are we stopping?” she asks.

He smiles. “Our ride is here.”

She stares in disbelief at the big motorcycle parked behind him. She chuckles.

“You’re the first lawyer I meet who rides one of these!”

“I guess I like to keep people on their toes,” he echoes her words, earning a smirk from her, then leans over to get the helmet. He steps in front of her and gently lays it on her head. He then fastens the clip.

He teasingly pokes the tip of her nose with his finger. “It looks cute on you.”

He puts his helmet on and straddles the motorcycle. She watches with an agape mouth — what a sight!

“When you’re ready,” he says kindly.

Her heartbeat quickens. The exhilaration is slowly surging up her body. It feels like old times again. She smiles and gives an encouraging nod to herself before getting on. Her hands gently slip around his waist.

The engine roars fiercely. It sends shivers down her spine. Steve pulls back slowly then engages on the road. As they enter the freeway, his hand swiftly pulls around the handle, launching the bike forward. Her fingers grasp the fabric of his shirt. They soon get away from the bustling city and the light turns dim as they dive into the night. Steve drives fast along the deserted roads lined with trees. She slowly looks up and catches sight of the thousand stars glowing in the sky. It seems like ages since she last saw them.

The mild air sweeps across her face and she breathes in the scent of humid grass and leaves. She loosens her grip and bends backward, taking in the view, enjoying the moment. She lets out a joyful and carefree squeal whose echo dies down in the distance. He smiles from where he is sitting.

Thirty minutes, he pulls over on the side of a quiet rural road. They are both leaning on the bike, gazing at the splendorous untouched nature in front of them.

She taps her finger on the screen of her Watch.

“My father bought it for me when it came out. I’d just turned 18. He had great hopes for me which involved being in a happy marriage and having children. But I wasn’t ready for any of it. I was…,” she smiles blankly, “rebellious. Hardly contented with anything. I took his gift as a leash so I protested. Commitment meant little to me. I’d date around for the sake of proving I could. Then I met this guy, a singer, he offered me my ticket out. I went with him on a tour around Europe. It was fun, and I felt free. Alive.” She pauses and takes a deep breath in. “My father had a heart attack. He died alone and it took days before someone even realized and found him. It took even longer before I came back and claimed his body. After that, I saw why family was important. And I put the Watch on.”

She turns to look at him with watery eyes and shrugs slightly as she sniffs and forces a smile. “Never took it off once ever since.”

Steve is watching her quietly. She notices his eyes are slightly gleaming too under the moonlight. “I’m sorry,” he says.

She shakes her head. “It’s ok. It was years ago. Anyways, when I came back I settled down and resumed my studies. I started a new life and it hasn’t been an unhappy one so far.”

The corner of his mouth goes up slightly. “Has it been a happy, fulfilling one, though?”

She runs her fingers through her hair. “I don’t know. It’s been so long. But it feels safe.”

“I get it. I really do.”

They look at each other without a word. She bites her bottom lip and shuts her eyelids. Her mind runs through a thousand thoughts, once of which is far more obsessive than the others and she can no longer pretend to ignore. Looking back at him staring at her with such candor and yearning, she feels the pull to lean in.

She makes a resolute nod and stands on her feet. She turns to face him.

“If we’re doing this,” she begins, “we can’t get attached. We’re just being spontaneous and going along with it…for the time it lasts.”

Still sitting on the bike, he looks at her with meek, but lustful, eyes. He looks down and shakes his head, snorting.

“Natasha. I like you,” he admits. “I like you. I think part of me will always want more but I can’t risk losing it all for being too greedy. We’ll go with your terms.”

She smiles. “Great,” she says and holds her hand up to make it an official shake.

He laughs softly. He swiftly puts a hand to her waist and pulls her to him, crushing his lips against hers, sealing the deal with a kiss.

2 MONTHS, 28 DAYS, 14 HOURS, 41 MINUTES AND 7 SECONDS

#romanogers #Steve Rogers #Natasha Romanoff #stevenat #fanfic #writing #Before The last Grain #inneedofinspiration #capwidow #captasha #AU

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howtowhumpyourhiccup · 4 years

Text

The Stories Scars Can Tell

Summary: A 'Hiccup left Berk' whump fic. When Hiccup left Berk for Toothless' safety five years ago, he hadn't thought about how hard life as a solo Dragon Rider would be. He hadn't realized it either, until a year after his reunion with Berk and the new Dragon Riders want to learn more about his scars.

Rating: Teen and up

Words: 6 452

Author’s Notes: This was supposed to be a 'Hiccup left Berk' whump fic one-shot, but it got way out of hand. This part alone is already 6k words long and I have other parts in the works, all of which are about Hiccup's misfortunes.

Constructive criticism is appreciated.

Enjoy!

Ao3

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"Is-is that from an arrow?"

Hiccup's honest question caused Astrid to take a pause. She'd been undressing herself, but she didn't get past her pauldrons before Hiccup asked her. They were left on the ground next to the hot spring they were planning on diving in.

Snotlout, Fishlegs, Ruffnut, and Tuffnut were all here as well and in several different stages of undress. Three of them pretty much threw their clothes off before jumping straight in. There were some surprised yelps of the water being too hot followed by Fishlegs chastising them for not taking their time to get used to the spring beforehand.

Usually, they'd be wearing nothing at all. Viking bathhouses were communal and these five young adults were familiar with each other as well. But having previously been somewhat hesitant to join them, this was the first time Hiccup was here with them, at one of the many bodies of water this island provided.

In the months since they came to live here with Hiccup, Toothless, and all the other dragons that called this place home, they had been trying to gain his trust. Hiccup's presence at the hot spring with them and without his very protective Night Fury was a sign that they were successful. As to not immediately scare him away again, the Thorston twins may or may not have compared Hiccup to a very skittish dragon more than once, they had decided to keep at least one layer of clothing on them.

It took Ruffnut a lot of convincing to go through with their plan.

It seemed to be working. At the very least, Hiccup wasn't wearing his armor, made out of Gronckle iron and dragon scales. His tunic and leather pants he did still wear. Much like his usual outer layer, they were dark in color. He had once explained it was because Toothless, a Night Fury, was a stealthy dragon. Hiccup just didn't wish to stand out on his back by wearing green or bright red.

That this was the first time was also the reason why he hadn't seen Astrid's scar before. It was located on her left shoulder, a very light pinkish line on her front. A similar one seemed to be present on the back parallel to the first one.

When Hiccup asked her about it, she glanced down at it.

"Oh yeah! In through the front and out through the back! Got it from some Dragon Hunter Viggo sent before the mysterious Dragon Master showed up to save Berk from his clutches." Astrid wasn't at all bothered as she talked about what was probably originally a very painful wound, sending Hiccup a smile when she mentioned this mystery figure. She even flexed her left arm and showed her scar with pride.

Hiccup smiled back at her, lightly shaking his head. Of course, Astrid would see her scars as achievements. That would be so like her.

The Dragon Master's war with the Dragon Hunters and Viggo uncovering his identity is what had lead him to Berk. The Grimborn brothers launching raids on the Viking village, capturing fishing boats, and cutting off their trading routes is what had then resulted in Hiccup returning to Hairy Hooligans for the first time since he had left it and his true self to be revealed.

Some hearts were broken, some were mended, there were some loud shouting matches, it had been a difficult few weeks for everybody, but in the end, Berk had been saved and Hiccup gained five new friends. Human friends.

The real reason behind the dragon raids and why they had suddenly stopped was known by now too and, needless to say, the Hooligans loved watching him come for a visit a lot more than they liked watching him leave.

"Must've been painful, though." Hiccup made a statement and cringed at the thought.

"Oh, it was! And... to be fair, I can't quite lift my left arm past my shoulder, but the kids on Berk haven't noticed. That is what matters." Nobody would ever think Astrid Hofferson, of all people, to be good with children, but the tiny Hairy Hooligans seemed to love her. A flash of regret did pass by on her face, but it was gone before Hiccup could speak of it and so he chose not too.

So that was somewhat of a sore spot to her, that she lost some of the range she used to have. She hoped her little fans would never find out their favorite warrior couldn't lift one of her arms all the way.

Astrid continued to work on the rest of her clothes. An extra pair of eyes did not make her waiver at all. She wasn't ashamed in friendly company she was close with.

An old crush and a want to still respect her decency got Hiccup to look away, even though she wasn't entirely in the nude.

This made Hiccup the only one still fully dressed. Something he was quite okay with, although he had agreed to join them at the springs this time.

Snotlout, soaked from head to toe, came stomping out of the water. Attempting to pretend like he wasn't freezing as he left the heat of both the hot spring and the steam, he took on a confident pose. Hiccup and Astrid's brief exchange had sparked inside of him the want to gloat.

"Pff! That puny thing? Let me show you a real scar!" He invited himself into the conversation. Propping a foot up on a nearby rock, he smugly pointed towards a jagged line on his inner thigh.

"Do you see that here? Got this one when I took a harpoon to the leg." Snotlout's ego simply oozed out of every spoken word. He was gloating and it looked like he had been waiting to do so for much too long.

"You did not!" Always ready to knock the Jorgenson right off the pedestal he liked to put himself on, the Thorston twins exited the spring as well. It was Ruffnut who spoke.

"Yeah, you got that scar when you accidentally destroyed that armory and that harpoon, that was just lying there, fell on you." Tuffnut followed swiftly.

"I did not! I-... Shut up, Tuffnut!" His pride hurt, Snotlout crossed his arms and looked away.

The twins grinned mischievously.

"Now check this out!" Both Ruff and Tuff pointed towards a particularly ugly-looking scar on the brother's side that didn't appear to be all that old. They were particularly happy with this one.

Walking closer, Hiccup couldn't help but notice something.

"Is that from... a Fireworm?" He asked, slightly worried.

"Uh-huh. Found some, tried to roll with them. You know how it is, being the feral dragon person that you are. Turns out they-"

"Have skin hot enough that it can melt flesh, yes, I'm aware." Tuffnut's exciting recount of the event did not help settle Hiccup's concern at all. If anything, he made a mental note to tell them which dragons to touch and which ones they should stay away from as far as humanly possible.

Or he should make that list in reverse. Knowing those two, Ruffnut and Tuffnut would absolutely seek out the ones they shouldn't ever come in contact with.

"And oh, Hiccup!" Ruffnut pulled on his sleeve excitedly before pointing towards her leg.

"And then there's this one I got on my leg from a fishing hook, that weird looking thing right here that I got when Tuff and I went Gronckle tipping-"

"That was you?!" Fishlegs' outrage was heard in an instance as Ruffnut decided to list each one of her own scars. Her body was quite littered with them.

"Yes, it was, Fishlegs! Pay attention!"

Hiccup didn't get to hear the end of their conversation as Astrid grabbed his shoulder to turn his attention towards her. She had taken note of Hiccup's stress levels rising significantly with each little anecdote Ruffnut shared and decided to save him before he bolted back towards his den where he could think of a way to "twin-proof" the island. She could see the want to do so on his face.

"You know, I had my suspicions, but they really haven't changed at all, have they?" Hiccup asked her, thankful for the save, and Astrid nodded.

"Unfortunately, they haven't. But don't worry about them, Fishlegs and I are keeping an eye out for them. And now you are too. They couldn't possibly be in any safer hands." Even after all of these months getting to know them after their reunion last year, Hiccup still wondered where this supportive side of Astrid had come from and why. He also wondered if she knew how much he appreciated it.

It made him remember that sometimes having other humans around could feel good.

There were the Defenders and the Wingmaidens, but Astrid, Fishlegs, Snotlout, Ruffnut, and Tuffnut came from a tribe that weren't originally on good terms with dragons. Dragon people were far and wide in between, at least in the far North, and sometimes a little reminder that the majority of humans weren't bad was a welcome perspective.

"I'll, uh, do my best to help." Hiccup gave her an awkward smile.

They had come here to live with him, after all. After some talking with their parents and Berk's Chief, they were here to help Hiccup and Toothless protect the dragons under their care and save the ones held captive by those that would do them wrong. They were living his life with the sole purpose of understanding it.

Although, Hiccup was well aware that there were some other, more hidden, intentions behind their actions. Hiccup knew for a fact, for example, that Stoick hoped his estranged son would reach out to him again. He wanted to reconnect, but so far he was respecting Hiccup’s need for space and time, which Hiccup was quite certain Gobber had something to do with.

"No! That one is so embarrassing!" Fishlegs yelped as he physically removed himself from Ruffnut and Tuffnut Thorston.

After the twin had run out of nicks and blemishes on their person, they decided to point out the Ingerman's. Ruffnut had taken this opportunity to say how "disappointingly untouched" he was.

It sent shivers down the spines of everyone present and Fishlegs already decided that he would spending that night with Meatlug in her nest.

"What about you?"

"Huh?"

Snotlout's question surprised Hiccup and he drew his gaze away from the three Riders.

"Do you have any scars?" Snotlout clarified his inquiry, he wasn't too happy that he needed to do so.

Hiccup was once again the center of attention, like he had been many times since the new Dragon Riders had come to live with him on what they called the "Better-than-Berk Berk".

Awkwardly, he gestured towards his prosthetic leg.

"Ugh, besides that! We know the story behind that one!" Jorgensons were often known for their temper and Snotlout was already annoyed.

Hiccup tugged on his tunic in discomfort, straightened it out as if possible crinkles mattered to him. They were all waiting on him and gazing at him expectantly. It had been a long while since he'd last felt this uncomfortable with his own body and yet the wave of embarrassment was a familiar one.

Dragons didn't care about his body. At least, the ones here didn't. He knew Toothless didn't. The Night Fury was never bothered by how weak and scrawny his partner looked, not even back when they first met. As a result, Hiccup never needed to care either.

But humans... Humans cared. A lot, from what he could remember.

"I don't..." Not even his hands quite knew what they were trying to say.

"You don't have to show us anything." Astrid decided to speak up as she took a step forward. Her hand was on his shoulder again.

"Oh, come on!"

"Is this about being scrawny? You're not that scrawny anymore! Honest!"

"And you're tall, H! Tall, handsome, and... Broad's not the word I'm looking for." The protest was instant. The only one who wasn't opposed to Hiccup listening to his boundaries was Fishlegs.

"Hiccup doesn't have to show us if he doesn't want to." Astrid hissed, unconsciously grasping for an axe that wasn't there with the way her fist clenched. She scolded the three of them. The other Riders muttered and two of them crossed their arms in disappointment. One even pouted.

Next to Astrid, however, Hiccup sighed and silently nodded to himself. He came to a decision and grabbed the back of his tunic to remove it.

"Hiccup?"

"You've shown me yours, I show you mine, right? It's only fair. And I'm doing this of my own free will. So don't worry about it." Though Hiccup tried to reassure her, Astrid's slight unease did not immediately fade away.

She felt compelled to look away at the slightest show of skin. It was unlike her, but as the tunic came off and all that remained was the leather pants, she didn't think there was any other choice.

"Damn, Haddock! Dragon riding did you good!" Ruffnut instantly piped up and Fishlegs even nodded in agreement. Snotlout was speechless, which was a feat in and of itself, and Tuffnut said something along the lines of having found someone even hotter than the skin-melting hides of Fireworms.

"Ah, thank you?" Hiccup hadn't expected any positive reactions, he'd expected neutral ones at best, but he would take it. It did his self-esteem some good. At least, for the time being.

Daring herself to look, Astrid finally willed her gaze to fall back on Hiccup and she saw what they all saw.

There were the tons and tons of freckles they already knew he had, but what was new was his figure as it was no longer scrawny as it was more toned instead. His muscles definitely weren't defined, but they were still unmistakenly there. Deceptively powerful in a lean and sleek design, that is what Astrid's keen eyes saw.

And something else that they knew weren't there before were the many, many scars on his body. For the amount alone, he had them all beat. Even Ruffnut!

As that sunk in, Astrid grew quiet while the others were delighted. Ruff, Tuff, and Snotlout in particular. As a warrior, she had numerous imperfections of her own, but she could at least say that none of them originated from a brutal whipping.

The marks on his upper back, she'd seen them before on other people and she'd heard their stories.

How vicious had it been that it created wounds that scarred? Like that especially? And more importantly, how old was he when he got them? The mostly straight lines were white, meaning they have probably been there a while already.

"So, huh, which- which one should I talk about first?" The overwhelming attention made Hiccup flush, hands not knowing what they wanted to do. And it was, for once, not in an entirely bad way. If anything, it encouraged him to open up to them even more.

Astrid pushed her new realizations to the back of her mind for the time being. She would approach the Dragon Master about them later. In privacy. The others didn't need to know that particular story in case Hiccup didn't want them to know. And if he didn't want her to know either, then so be it. She was willing to accept that.

Another reason was that Astrid didn't want this fragile trust he had in them now to break simply because they were asking questions for answers Hiccup may not want to give.

So she came to stand in front of Hiccup and scanned his body from head to toe, searching for a tale he may want to share.

Meanwhile, Hiccup needed to tell himself to breathe as she looked him over. Once upon a time, he had made himself believe he'd gotten over his crush on Astrid after leaving Berk, but her stay here certainly disproved that.

"Let's start with... These! On your hands!" Astrid suggested and took Hiccup's hands into her own. He splayed them open, palm up. They were certainly calloused from years of blacksmithing, a skill he had continued to sharpen as he did have his very own forge here on the island. But besides the callouses, the surface showed small burn scars as well.

"Oh, these!" Seeing them, Hiccup's awkwardness melted away and the biggest grin appeared on his face. It was the brightest expression they'd seen him wear thus far. Astrid and Fishlegs smiled in response.

"I've told you guys about the hatchlings Toothless and I sometimes take in, right?" They all nodded simultaneously. If there was something Hiccup liked to boast about it were his hatchlings. Some of which were still here on the island with them and others which occasionally dropped by for a visit.

"There was this one abandoned little Nightmare that we hatched and raised. She was late, so I think her parents had given up on her. This one day she discovered she could light herself up on command and... Well, I was holding her at the time." Hiccup chuckled at the memory. That same Nightmare was one of those that had taken up residence on this island.

"It scared her so bad because she thought I was fireproof this whole time and Toothless scolded her for so long! Ah, the burns were terrible, but I couldn't stay mad at her, you know? I named her Fiery because of what happened." He was going to end it there. If he didn't, he would still be talking about her hours later. He loved her so much, just like every single other dragon juvenile he'd ever taken care of and raised by hand.

But just because he wouldn't talk about Fiery, didn't mean he wouldn't talk about a different dragon of his.

"And this one," He pointed towards a bite mark on his right arm. It wasn't particularly big, but it looked like it must've once hurt, but the smile on his face didn't vanish. This one was another good memory.

"I got this one from Trouble, a Zippleback. They loved playing growing up, but then one of the heads got a little too playful during a play-fight and bit me instead of just nipping me. It was an accident, but they kept bringing me fish for an entire week as an apology." A joyous laugh escaped him.

"You could say he got a little... bitey." Snotlout was very proud of himself, but his pun was not a welcome one. Nobody laughed, they just stared.

"Shut up, Fishlegs."

"I didn't even say anything!"

"Still, shut up!"

Astrid rolled her eyes and Hiccup shook his head, but more so out of amusement. Meanwhile, the twins needed to be stopped before they started a contest of puns just to show the dishonorable Jorgenson who the real pun masters were. There was no room on this island for more than two masters in the art of wordplay.

"Ooh, what is this one?" Fishlegs was the next one to speak up. He only had eyes for the strange scarring on Hiccup's right. They looked like veins, or like red lightning etched into his skin. Like a tattoo. It started on his shoulder and went down his chest.

"Oh, that one! Yeah, I, uh, I got hit by lightning this one time when Toothless and I got caught in a thunderstorm in the middle of the ocean. Yeah, so... that- that happened." He was slightly more awkward about that one and Snotlout was wholly disappointed a mark as cool as that didn't come with an equally awesome story.

He muttered a silent "geez". That was how much he felt let down. A corrective punch by Astrid followed swiftly.

The twins were slightly more excited to have heard about that one incident that had turned their fellow Rider into a human lightning rod.

"Oh yeah, I imagine the two of you need to be careful. You both carry a lot of metal with you as you fly." Fishlegs added helpfully. Hiccup had told them of how metal was naturally attracting to lightning. It was something he had found out the hard way and more than once, apparently.

"So what about the scar here?" Tuffnut asked, pointing to the rather ugly one on the other's chin. Hiccup didn't know when the Thorston had pulled his pant leg up.

Or where his boot had gone for that matter.

Either way, Tuffnut figured Ugly marks were bound to have a nice and gruesome backstory.

Hiccup’s smile, that first appeared as genuine and then became more awkward, made way for a cringe. Just the thought of what had caused this particular blemish on his person made him wince. His slightly hunched posture told of his nervousness.

It was still very pink in coloration, indicating that it couldn't have been that old yet.

"Um, we, uh... We crashed. Some strong winds caught Toothless' wings. I broke my leg. The bone was out. Needed to set it myself, but couldn't. So Hookfang did it for me. It was very painful." There were no details, his sentences were short and to the point, and still, the faces of everyone present pulled into a grimace.

"That... could not have been a fun time," Ruffnut stated and the others agreed. Even she got goosebumps just imagining what that must've been like.

"Couldn't walk for so long. I actually just got back up on my feet when you guys sent me that T-mail asking me if you could come live here with us." Just thinking back to the time spent in bed simply because the dragons forbid him from getting up made Hiccup feel restless. Like he needed to strap the saddle to Toothless and go for a flight with him right this instance.

This, however, explained some things to the Riders. When they had first moved to the "Better Than Berk" Berk, Hiccup did seem to fatigue easily at the beginning of their stay and there had been no news of any recent rescue missions that had taken place before their arrival.

Usually, they heard about all sorts of rumors from seafaring merchants and such. That Hiccup needed some time to recover would be one reason why it had been strangely quiet on the grapevine concerning the Dragon Master.

"Is it...?" Astrid pointed to his leg.

"Oh, don't worry about it! It's good now! I'm good now! It just hurts when I run for too long."

"Define how much "for too long" is."

"Anyway, anything else you guys want to know?" Instead of answering Fishlegs' query, Hiccup gazed at three of the other Riders, who had been surprisingly silent.

Hiccup took a seat on a nearby rock. It most definitely didn't have anything to do with what they had just discussed.

Attempting to shrug away the tension that hung in the atmosphere, Snotlout and the twins circled him and looked him over. It was slightly uncomfortable for Hiccup, but if there was something they wanted to know, he was willing to share.

Fishlegs and Astrid had heard enough for the time being, though they did not leave.

"These!" Snotlout picked next.

Hiccup looked over his left shoulder to look at the scars Snotlout was referring too. He could barely see them, but he knew which ones the other was talking about.

"Got those from a dragon. Which I'm sure is quite obvious. This one time Trouble had wandered into a different dragon's territory and they weren't too happy about it. It was a Monstrous Nightmare and a very territorial one at that. She was about to nest and she didn't want any competition." Hiccup rubbed his shoulder. That Nightmare had found a good den and thought Trouble and Hiccup had come to steal it.

Many dragons Hiccup had met in life were good and kind beings, but there were some rotten apples he was unfortunate enough to come across. Most dragons did not hurt young juveniles.

So Hiccup remembered that incident with some unease, but Snotlout, meanwhile, looked back at those scars and was stunned.

They were claw marks that ran from his upper back all the way down to his hips. Had the claws responsible been just a tad bit more to the right, they would've taken Hiccup's spine.

Just like Astrid and Fishlegs, he was starting to have enough.

Hiccup seemed to notice. Snotlout didn't have any comments, he was now uncharacteristically quiet. But Hiccup had promised he would tell, so...

"What's this one?!" Ruffnut asked. Not having lost her curiosity just yet, she wanted to continue this interrogation as she poked at what once must've been a large gash on his right side, where his ribs were.

"That one I got from an axe, believe it or not! Got in over my head with some Dragon Hunters back when this one guy called Krogan was still alive. He was... a very cruel man. Said that, if I wanted to live like a dragon, I needed to be put down like a dragon. But I survived! So that's good!" Hiccup was slightly hesitant as he answered. His apprehension grew when he watched true horror appear on the faces of even the twins.

Suddenly, listening to Hiccup talk about several different incidents that each lead to horrific injury after horrific injury wasn't as appealing anymore.

Hiccup thought to himself that it was a good thing he wasn't naked, or they would've seen some other disfigurements he was still hiding.

Tuffnut raised his finger, as if he wanted to speak, but then lowered it again. It seemed like even he had enough by now. Hiccup wasn't kidding when he promised he was ready to tell them everything they wanted to know. And there were still quite a few scars they hadn't asked about.

Such as that thin vertical line on the right side of his abdomen. It wasn't all that short either. There were those odd spots on his lower back that looked like burns, but who knew what could cause a pattern such as that.

The Riders looked at one another, a look of new understanding on each of their faces.

Thinking of this lost Berkian as some crazy feral vigilante dragon-man had always been fun. After the years away, having fully devoted himself to dragons, he had adopted many draconic mannerisms. It was kooky, but amusing. As for the power he showed in battle, he and Toothless were like their own two-man army, you'd be an absolute fool to stand in their way. When he had first returned to Berk, they had been blown away by how much he had grown.

But now the Riders understood the kind of toll achieving such a strength and loyalty had on Hiccup, the pain he must've endured in his solo career as the Dragon Rider.

He had his dragons and they used their claws and fiery breath to keep him safe, but he didn't have any humans around. Each new injury Hiccup had to tend to himself, no matter how life-threatening.

He had human allies, such as the Defenders and the Wingmaidens, but they were never around. They didn't travel as much or as far as Hiccup did. In this manner, Hiccup was almost like their scout, their eyes in places they could not see. In return, they were a safe haven Hiccup was always welcome in, but couldn't always reach.

So Astrid figured the question she was about to ask was a fair one. Considering all their friend had gone through already in his short life, she didn't feel like she could rest easy without knowing that he was okay.

She came to stand before him while everyone else had moved away, her hand ghosting over a considerably large gash on his front that could only be caused by another dragon. It was another horrible tale, another stain on what they thought for so long had been a happy-go-lucky life without any care, stress, or worry. It would remain untold until the day the Riders got the heart to learn more.

Hiccup pushed himself back up on his feet, brows furrowed in concern.

"Hiccup... Are you sure you won't come back to Berk with us? Come back home? For good?" It was quiet at the hot spring. By now, they had all forgotten why they had come here in the first place. Something about going swimming and reconnecting with someone from their childhood.

Hiccup didn't know what to say as this question was asked. His gaze traveled to look at the others and he could see that they shared this sentiment with her. They wanted him to move back to Berk with them, permanently, and leave the home he had built here.

Some of these injuries were received after Hiccup had first returned to Berk. He could've been out there fighting with them, injured, and they would have no idea. He could've been suffering from fevers and infections while they had been in their cozy homes, enjoying the company of friends and family, of people with opposable thumbs who could help should trouble ever arise.

Tonight had been a revealing one for them.

But Hiccup already knew his answer.

"I... can't."

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Later that evening, with the moon high in the sky, Hiccup sat on the ledge of the entrance to the den he shared with Toothless, a knee pulled up to his chest.

It was a considerably sized cave in the side of a mountain that they found when they had first come to this island. There were very clear signs of both a dragon and a human living here. While it stayed mostly untouched, there was a large stone slab covered with piles of fur, there was a wall covered in paper with sketches and blueprints, there was a desk filled with parts and tools, and so much more.

It was quite high up from the base and the way there was steep too. Without a flying reptile for a best bud, it was hard to reach. That is what made it so perfect.

Fully clothed again, Hiccup had retreated here after a very tense dip in one of the hot springs with his human friends. Not feeling like sleeping yet, at night he was usually awake after having grown accustomed to Toothless' way of life, he was instead staring up to the sky and the stars.

He contemplated the events of the day, the things he'd said, and the Riders' reaction to them.

He thought he was doing the right thing by telling them all they wanted to know. He kept his life the past five years mostly hidden even when the others had come, he thought finally coming clean would strengthen their bond as the Dragon Riders. Instead, he got them to worry for him.

Honestly, he had never realized just how hard life had been on him. Even with all physical reminders blemishing his skin.

Toothless dropping his head heavily on Hiccup's lap pulled him out of his thoughts. It had been done on purpose. He crooned in question and looked up to his Rider.

When he only smiled and then proceeded to stroke the top of the dragon’s head, Toothless figured a more direct approach was needed to get Hiccup to talk.

So he picked his Rider up and all but threw him off the ledge and into their shared den. Hiccup landed with a grunt. Dragons weren't known for their gentle nature. Especially when they happened to have a close of a bond as Hiccup and Toothless had and regularly played rough with each other.

“Toothless!” Hiccup rubbed his backside.

The Night Fury gazed at him and roared in protest. It was his way of asking him what was up.

Hiccup let out a sigh as he crossed his legs. Toothless moved closer to sit down in front of him. He was quite a bit bigger than the human. Hiccup looked like he was contemplating something and Toothless wasn't pushing him. He knew his Rider would tell him when he was ready. There was hardly anything the two kept from each other, even during times when what they wanted to say to the other could not be said.

Hiccup looked up to his best friend.

"I think I did something bad, Bud. It's- it's nothing serious. I was... I was just thinking."

Toothless gave him a look and seemed to be saying "when you think it's always serious." It was an expression Hiccup often saw.

"Okay, fair point. I guess." Hiccup shrugged.

“I-I... You knew they wanted me to join them at the hot springs, right? They asked me about my scars and- and it made them really worried for my safety and..." He grew silent again and swallowed a lump in his throat.

"Do you, um... Do you think we should go back to Berk, Bud?” Hiccup finally spoke what was on his mind. Toothless cocked his head to one side.

“I-I mean, we only went back because of Viggo. And then we kept coming back whenever they needed us and-and then whenever there was a celebration or a holiday and they asked us to come... And then the Riders decided to come live here and see things from my perspective… And...” He let out a deep sigh and looked back up to his dragon, who gazed back at him with a look of understanding. He was allowing him to let it all out first.

"We have it good here, Bud. We worked so hard on this place. We can't just leave it behind."

Toothless gave him a look and a purr. With his nose, he dove underneath Hiccup's tunic to nudge the long scar on his abdomen and Hiccup's sighed deeply. Another one he hadn't told the Riders about and it didn't have such a lovely tale either. It was the one Astrid had not dared to touch.

It was caused by a Skrill they once had a scuffle with. She had been exceptionally cruel, like a dragon version of Krogan, and had come to their island in search of trouble. She had come specifically to challenge Hiccup and Toothless, this pack's alphas.

The Night Fury and the Rider won, but it had been a terrifying battle. She had been big, strong, and relentless. The fight had not ended well for her, much to Hiccup's regret. Though, he knew she left them no choice.

Hiccup was beginning to realize nearly every scar's story was a scary one. Toothless was right, the Dragon Riders did have a reason to worry for him. Hiccup knew he would've if any of them got hurt as often as he did.

He pulled a knee up to his chest and wrapped an arm around it. He looked off to the side.

He shook his head.

"No, we can't leave. This is my home, Toothless. It's our home. I-I can't leave." Toothless was comfortable with that answer and he wasn't about to argue with Hiccup. Whether on Berk or here, he wanted to be wherever Hiccup wanted to be.

That was wherever he was the most comfortable and it was clear he wasn't ready yet to return to the human settlement he was born and raised in.

Hiccup's history with fellow humans was not a good one. Toothless knew this.

He brushed with his cheek against Hiccup's as an approving gesture. Hiccup smiled. He could count on Toothless for anything.

"I'm gonna go to bed, Bud. I'm beat." As if on cue, Hiccup let out a loud yawn. After getting used to Toothless' sleeping schedule, trying to stay up during most of the day for his Riders and then the night for his dragon was proving to be a difficult feat. He was tired, exhausted. For once, he longed for his bed.

Toothless seemed to agree. As Hiccup got up to his feet, the dragon pushed him forward with the flat of his head. The former chuckled as he made his way over to the furs and promptly dropped down on top of them on his back.

Lifting his leg, Hiccup undid his prosthetic before moving further up on the pile to curl up and Toothless, who had been staying up together with him, wrapped himself around the other. He was tired as well.

Hiccup smiled up to the Night Fury and received a lick on the entire right side of his face. He groaned, but it didn't wipe his grin away as he wiped the slobber off. Grabbing Toothless' chin, Hiccup briefly touched Toothless' forehead with his own and the latter closed his eyes and purred. It was their good night and their good morning.

Rolling back onto his other side, Hiccup rested his head on his arm.

He tried to close his eyes so he could sleep, but found that something was keeping him awake. Smile replaced by a frown, he couldn't stop thinking about his evening with the Riders.

He wanted to stay, he really did. This island was his home, a place for both him and his dragons where they would all be safe. It was high up, a place only those with wings could reach.

And yet, something was nagging at him. Something was bothering him and he wasn't quite sure what.

It wasn't necessarily moving back to Berk that troubled him. He wasn't so keen on doing so, but it wasn't his main concern.

Was it the realization that his life, so far, had been difficult?

He feared water because of the sheer amount of times he had nearly drowned so far. He still avoided many human settlements and even contact for all his bad experiences with them. Berk, at some point, included. His friends even compared him to a "very skittish dragon" when they thought he wasn't around to hear it. It was true that, for as much as Hiccup trusted the Riders, he was still often cautious around them.

Rolling onto his other side to face Toothless, Hiccup scooted up to him. Without a single word spoken, the Night Fury wrapped himself tighter around him. He was already half asleep, but Hiccup coming closer wasn't lost on him.

Once comfortable, Hiccup figured he should follow his lead, and yet he still found sleep to be much too far away, in spite of his exhaustion.

He didn't want to go back to Berk, he really didn't. But this wasn't his first sleepless night, even with Toothless there to keep him safe.

He had to admit, far too many stories had been engraved into both his body and mind.

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atzdrabblesarchive · 5 years

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YOUNG GOD

when kim hongjoong spotted the pastor's daughter, all pretty in pink, he knew he wanted one thing. he wanted her to repent his sins of drugs, sex and alcohol. he also knew he wanted to hear his name from her mouth as he fucked her in the back of his chevy impala.

“if you wanna go to heaven, you should fuck me tonight.”

warnings | drug use mention, drinking mention, religious themes, female reader (not a warning just a mention), smut !!! unprotected sex, oral (female receiving), car sex

word count | 2.6k

authors note | over 1k words of this is backstory yeet. not proof read, so there’s probably some mistakes. enjoy x

he sees you as his mother has a grip on his arm, pulling him into the holy grounds of a church. he hated church. he hated everything about it. how they would stare at him, judge him for his decisions. it was his life, why should they question what he does? hongjoong mumbles profanities under his breath as he looks around, eyes landing on you. a pretty pink dress landing just below your knees, a matching cardigan across your shoulders, and a cross necklace against your throat.

he’d been with girls, a lot of girls, some hot, some only mildly hot after the alcohol had worn off the morning after but you were something else. your skin was glowly under the lights, a smile as bright as the stars spread across your mouth. if there was one thing he wanted, he wanted you.

your father ran the church, a place you’d been going to since you were younger; no freedom in your entire life. you were told how to act, who your friends were, what to do. you wanted to feel something, feel alive. it isn’t until the service started when you spot the boy dressed in leather; you can’t help it. curiosity killed the cat, as they say.

he notices your occasional stares, and tries to get them in time with his own glances. he finally gets one, near the end of the service, sending a wink your way. your heart beat speeds up, hands gripping the cross on your neck. you later find out his name is hongjoong, his parents new to the neighbourhood, as you eavesdrop on your parents talking to his.

“i saw you checking me out back there,” his voice sends a cold shiver down your back, a hand placing itself on your hip, before he turns your body around, pressing you into the wall. his face is inches apart from yours, warm breath tickling your face.

“i wasn’t - “ you go to protest, being drawn in by his eyes, you could feel yourself getting almost lost in the idea of them, the idea of him. “it’s just, boys like you don’t typically come into my threshold.”

he has one hand on the wall next to your head, the other finding its way to your necklace, holding the gold cross in his fingers. “pretty necklace,” he mumbles, “a pretty necklace for a pretty girl.”

for the next two weeks you find yourself swapping looks with the mysterious boy across rows of watchful eyes, cursing at the sinful attire of the boy. however, it isn’t until a wednesday night when you next see him, on the way to a grocery store to grab some eggs.

he’s sitting on the hood of his car, with a couple of friends on the roof, smoking, when he sees you exit your own car. maybe it was because he was stoned, or maybe the way you were dressed in a pair of dark denim jeans, a black shirt and a teddy-bear coat, that makes him wanted to pull you into his arms and make you sin.

you didn’t notice him, but as you walk past the car he quickly stands up, rushing over to you; “hey pretty girl.” he grins, the joint still in his hand.

“oh, hi. hongjoong isn’t it?” you try not to pay attention to the smell of marijuana on him as you speak, if you could put it past him maybe he is a good person. maybe he just needs someone to show him how to be a good person.

he nods his head, “it’s getting dark, and you’re out here all alone, what’s with that?”

“my mom wanted some eggs,” you explain shrugging your shoulders.

there’s a silence that fills the air for a moment, before he grabs your hand out of the blue, thumb tracing the rings that cover your fingers. “babe, can you do me a favour?” he asks, smirking softly at the way your face heats up with the name babe.

you don’t know why you agreed to his request but you do, and he grins, pressing his lips to the back of your hand. “the guys in the store over there hate us,” he says, passing you a crumbled up twenty from his pocket, “and mingi over there wants beer.”

you took the money hesitant about walking into the store to buy beer. the guy in the store doesn’t question it, letting you purchase the alcohol and the eggs you originally headed to the store to purchase.

when you walk back out, hongjoong is back sitting on his car, hands free of a blunt. he sees you and grins, reaching his hand out to grab the six pack of beer, and then he passes it to his friend who throws it in backseat of the car. his friend gets into the car, with a second friend as they wait for hongjoong to accompany them.

his hand grips onto yours, “you wanna come with us?”

you almost roll your eyes, “and do what?” you question him, feeling the warmth of his hand on yours is almost comforting, a sense of safety radiating off him.

he smirks, pulling you towards him, hands placed against your waist, “well, we’re going to smoke, drink and listen to san’s bullshit whining for the next two hours. but i’d much rather you be with me.”

from the position you’re in, you seem to be significantly taller than hongjoong, being able to look down at him, you take in his features; especially his large, brown eyes you had previously looked into. “i can’t -”

he cuts you off, fingers rubbing your skin as best they can through the fabric of your clothing, “come on babe, live a little.”

so you do. you’re escorted to a house with hongjoong, and his two friends mingi and yunho, it isn’t a party, more a “social gathering” as he says, but he keeps his hands firmly on you at all times.

within a few hours, you’d already gotten acquainted with the few people in the house including a girl named sunny, who seems to be giving you side eyes the entire night. hongjoong’s hands never leaving your waist, or shoulder, keeping you tightly pressed into his side. eventually, he passes you a red solo cup, “you’ve never drank have you?” he asks, raising his eyebrow.

you take the cup, after shaking your head, sniffing the liquid, “i’ve had a sip of something at christmases but never anything else.” the liquid is clear, and smells like your nail polish remover. hongjoong’s fingers lift the cup to your mouth, assisting it into your throat. it burns after the first sip when you swallow, but it isn’t too bad.

you don’t finish the drink, only half, occasionally sipping on it while members of the group fight over video games. your eyes glance at the clock, screaming eleven pm, and you check your phone. fifteen missed calls from your parents. “i have to call my parents,” you mutter, standing up and dusting off your jeans.

hongjoong reluctantly let’s go of your waist, eyes watching as you walk out of the house to call your parents.

a five minute conversation leaves you a sobbing mess on the front steps, mascara smeared down your face, and hands shaking. your mother called you a lying bitch, and told you to come home straight away.

“pretty girl don’t cry,” a voice says, arm placed over your shoulder, and pulling you into his side. it’s hongjoong, a boy covered in tattoos and piercings, a boy who cares about you even after only knowing you a few weeks.

it’s a sweeter conversation, him telling you your parents are trash, and saying you should move out, but you can’t. you don’t know how you’d live on your own. he just laughs, finger under your chin, lips inches from your own. “i’d help you. you’re a good person, you have a good heart, your parents have taken advantage of that.”

the air isn’t as thick as it should be, no tension rising, his eyes flicker between your lips and your own eyes, a hand pressed into your hair now, running through it like he knows the way your body works. “you can tell me to stop,” he whispers, finally pressing his lips to your own.

it’s your first real kiss. the only other was when you were twelve and your parents thought it would be cute if you and a boy you used to know would end up married. the kiss is honey, sweet and smooth, it’s heaven and hell; sin and purity. you melt against his touch, it’s like he was made for you. your lips together match in perfect harmony, his hands find their way on your body, resting against your hips and waist.

the kiss lasts for a minute, lips twisting and turning against each other, before he pulls away, leaning his head against yours. “you want me to drive you home?” he asks.

you shake your head, not wanting your parents to know who you were with. but he drives you back to the place where you saw each other, your car still parked but your body missing his kiss.

six months of hidden dates, six months of holding his hand in private. stolen kisses in church pews, trying not to be discovered by prying eyes. and six months of your parents disliking the fact you were often out with friends they didn’t know.

now you were gone, in the arms of hongjoong, his fingers pressing into your stomach as the movie played in front of you, your suitcase by the front door of his apartment. he saw you cry too many times and begged you to leave your home, to stay with him for as long as you needed to. he moved out himself just weeks prior, in an escape from his own mother.

“people say things about you,” you whisper, turning your body to face his, hands finding their place behind his neck, while he looks at you.

“what do they say?”

“that you’re no good. you’re a bad person...” you don’t want to say everything you’ve heard to him, too scared to hurt his feelings. but he knows what they say, they he’ll ruin you. he doesn’t want to ruin you.

“i’d never hurt you,” he admits, fingers now against the skin of your cheeks, a comforting feel. “i think i love you.”

the word love burns into your heart, you wouldn’t think a boy like him could love anyone, yet here he was. telling you he loved you. a few months ago, maybe he wouldn’t have said it. when he first saw you all he wanted to do was make you sin, now after waiting and getting to know you -- he thinks your his perfect match.

it isn’t for another week that your first fight happens. he’s driving you both to the house of san, another one of his bullshit parties, another event that’ll leave you lonely as your boyfriend drinks alcohol you can’t stand and smokes pot that’ll leave him with a foul odour. “i don’t wanna go.” you say, half way through the ride.

while still driving, hongjoong places a hand on your thigh to comfort you, clearly you were distressed if you didn’t want to go -- you always went, even if you just sat around and watched the scene unfold of young adults ruin their lives. “we’re half way there, you’ll be fine.”

“pull over.” your words are louder than what he’s used to, and you move his hand off your thigh, pulling your legs up to your chest. “or i’ll leave the car while you’re still driving.”

he does that. he pulls over as soon as he can, turning to you, a look of confusion is over his face. “what’s wrong with you?” you expect him to raise his voice but he doesn’t. he never gets mad at you, he couldn’t.

“i’m sick of these parties,” you admit, leaning your head forehead down on your knees. “why can’t you take me out on a normal date?”

your first fight consists of stupid moments, him even questioning your loyalty to the cross on your neck while dating him. he even let’s slip how he didn’t even mean to fall in love with you. and eventually you break down, for the first time in months.

“don’t cry pretty girl.” he mumbles, pulling you from your seat to his lap. while he holds you, you feel guilty. you don’t know why. but you hate the feeling, hands trembling you finally look up at him.

hongjoong is hesitant but he kisses you, with passion and lust and you love it. the kiss is long, hot and his hands are all over you, finally stopping at your ass. when you pull away, he looks at you like you’re the only person he’s ever seen, and the only person he will ever see.

he speaks up, his words are risky but he still says them anyway, “if you wanna go to heaven you should fuck me tonight.”

the next thing you know, you’re in the backseat of his car, half naked with your jeans around your ankles. he leaves kisses over your hips and thighs, marking you as his; “you’re sure about this?” he asks before pulling you into a kiss.

“i’ve never wanted anything more.”

it’s a new feeling, when his tongue finds a path from your stomach down to your heat, lips wrapping around your clit, giving you a sensation you’ve only read about when you sneaked a look inside cosmo at the grocery store. a finger rubs against you, pushing inside your folds, while lips leave a hickey against your left hip. “let me know if i hurt you.” he pushes himself up to face you while fingers work inside. your first orgasm doesn’t take long for you to reach, foreign touches send you overboard.

he’s gentle, and this isn’t what your mother tells you sex is. she tells you it’s only to be shared for creating children, but now you don’t believe her. especially when hongjoong pulls his own pants and boxers down to his ankles, and positions himself in your heat.

it hurts, you’ll admit, but you expected it to. he moves when you assure him you’re okay, and with every movement of his hips he mumbles, “i love you.” he holds your left hand, his right hand slamming against the car window helping keep him steady.

the wait is worth it, in his eyes, feeling you around him -- it’s pure bliss. with your shirt long gone, he’s leaving marks across your chest, not caring if anybody knew. you don’t care either. you don’t care if your mother calls you a whore because you’re in heaven.

you reach a second orgasm as his fingers press against your clit, guiding you through it, which almost sends him into his own avalanche. he wonders if he needs to pull out but when your legs wrap around him, he groans.

“i’m on the pill, don’t worry,” you whisper, pulling him closer to you.

he’ll question you when you’re both cleaned up and heading home.

with his own high reached he just waits, breathing heavy. kissing you again, but this time it’s full of love like he normally does. you think that maybe you were given hongjoong for a reason, maybe he is your soulmate.

as you’re driving back, leaning against the window, he asks you, “when did you go on the pill?”

“the moment we became “official”.” you shrug in response, winking at him.

#atzwriters #ateez scenarios #ateez smut #ateez au #hongjoong scenarios #hongjoong smut #this took a turn

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