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masterwords · 2 years

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the silence drowns (part twelve)

Summary: Morgan interrupted Foyet in Hotch’s apartment and saw everything. Now Hotch is staying with Jessica, Morgan is trying to figure out how to save the day and Foyet is on the road.

Warnings: Actually, for this chapter, really nothing. You get a short reprieve...it's just Derek dealing with the fallout from the last two chapters so we're all caught up and on the same page finally as we enter the final stretch.

Pairings: Hotch/Morgan

Words: 1.8k

Notes: It's coming along. We're getting there. Things are falling into place. The final showdown will be a blaze of violent glory. None of these people go down without a fight.

Chapter List

Read on AO3: The Silence Drowns

It all happened at once.

Or at least that's what it felt like. A week of quiet reflection on a shitty situation, existing in a weird stasis inside of Hotch's apartment while he was far enough away that Derek could only hope he had some semblance of peace. Every text, every call between he and Jessica they assumed would be monitored, they kept it to a minimum. Passing messages through her parents, outside channels that Foyet couldn't track, he knew so little. Sometimes, late at night, he wondered if they weren't giving Foyet too much credit...would he really be watching everything? Was he really that smart, or had he just been lucky? The further into the abyss Derek went, the less he knew.

He couldn't say he'd had any peace over the last few days...weeks now?...the calendar meant nothing to him anymore. The place was quiet, just he and Clooney talking to the ghosts in the walls. He'd removed every trace of blood he could find, borrowed sensitive equipment from the guys down in forensics just to make sure...clean slate, that's all he was hoping for. They both needed it. He wasn't sure everything could be mended, humans couldn't be put together with spackle and masking tape and he was coming to the sad realization that Hotch's wounds might heal on the outside but he'd carry them forever anyway. His canvas couldn't be painted over.

Staring at the gaping wall, the small square of drywall ready to be placed and taped in, he lost himself in thought. The bullet had long since been pulled, but it still smelled like a smoking gun somehow...maybe only his imagination. Probably. He'd shoved the crime scene tape inside already. Memories or something. There was a builder's tradition, placing something like a time capsule, a memento from the person doing the work to the next person to open her up. His fingers twitched at his side, thumb rubbing at the pad of his middle finger. He could put anything here. Anything. Hotch would never open it again. Probably no one would, not until the place was demolished...you don't treat apartments like you do houses. You don't renovate, you don't restore, you just destroy and start over. Nothing worth keeping in the walls. But he wanted something more than the tape, twisted and balled up after an angry night of feeling hopeless, powerless, alone. He would like to fish the tape out now but it felt right in there anyway, a reminder. It needed something else now, something better. A good luck charm maybe. Even if he was the only one who ever knew it was there.

Except the apartment spoke to him and it spoke loud, and it had other plans. He heard a gun, a low voice, felt the carpet on his chin and the blood on his hands. The apartment let out a scream, it echoed through his head and then all at once went silent. Left listening to the hush and stillness, searching out the fear he'd been trying to so hard to mask, he realized what he needed to put there. Not a good luck charm, an insurance policy. Just like old times. The taping, the mud, the sanding, that all came easy once he made the decision.

As if given permission by some cosmic force, his phone started ringing. First his mother, even if she hadn't been the first contacted she was the first to call.

“Bear-bear,” she began, hardly waiting for more than his first syllables. He wondered how long it had been since she'd called him by that name. “A man who claimed to be from the Tribune called me asking about you and Aaron,” she said softly. “I don't believe that's who he was at all. I hung up and called the Tribune right away and they weren't able to find anyone who called me, no one writing a story about you. Derek, something is going on...is Aaron alright?” She knew he wasn't, not really, she knew the story. But something about that phone call made her veins run ice cold.

“Mama,” he glanced around, like the walls might betray him. Clooney wouldn't but he couldn't trust the rest. “I don't know. He's alive.” That was all he had to offer. She made a noise of disgust and he could almost predict what would come next.

“Derek Morgan.” No more Bear-bear, he thought sourly. “Please do not tell me that you aren't with him now. Of all the silly, stupid, arrogant...”

“It isn't safe.”

“Oh PAH...who cares? If I could have been with your father in those last moments, I'd give it all up to be there. You wise up, young man.” She didn't stop there, but he couldn't hear her anymore, her voice was static. He thought back to that night in the hospital, pacing the ICU, waiting to be allowed inside only to get that fucking call from Strauss...had he really not even SEEN Hotch in that long? Not even once? His mom was right. Fuck.

“Okay. Okay mom. Listen, don't take any more calls you hear me? I don't know who that was but if I had to guess...”

“It was him, Bear. It was him, I know it was. I knew it from the moment he answered. You go find Aaron and take care of him, do you hear me?” Fran Morgan was not a woman to challenge, he'd learned that from an early age. He could credit her with an awful lot of his own hard-headed traits.

He smiled in spite of himself. “What about me, mama?” He was mostly joking, trying to inject some amount of levity into a situation that made him feel utterly out of his depths.

“Aaron will do the same for you. That's why you two work.” She paused, waited for him to come up with some arrogant reply, something that sounded just like him and when he didn't, she continued. “Call him. You put eyes on him and you don't stop putting eyes on him until that monster is in custody, do you hear me child?”

The walls closed in, or at least he thought they did. What an odd feeling. This place was really getting to him.

“Yes,” he started and she clicked her teeth at him. He had flashbacks to being a teenager.

“Yes what?” He could hear the smile in her voice, but it didn't scare him any less. His veins ran with ice.

“Yes, ma'am.”

He tried to change the subject, like he had time...he missed his mom. And the thought that Foyet called her, he didn't want to think about what that implied. He'd either looked her up, or worse...he'd been in Chicago, and if he was in Chicago...if he knew where she lived...he knew now exactly how badly they'd all underestimated Foyet's capabilities. It wasn't done because he wasn't done.

When he said it all happened at once, what he meant was this: as soon as the call from his mother ended, Jessica was calling him.

“Sean says a man came to see him at the bar a few days ago,” she started, sounding out of breath. “He knew about what happened to you and Aaron. He knew about Foyet. What are the odds, Derek? Not good right? Right?” She sounded panicked, and Derek wondered where she was. Was she with Aaron? Was she away from him so he didn't know about Sean?

“Right,” he assured her as calmly as possible, “Not good at all. It was probably Foyet.” They went over the stories together, matching them up. Derek didn't want to call Penelope, but he had no choice, had to drag her in. It didn't take long before the whole team was involved, trying to track Foyet to no avail. He wasn't using any of his known aliases and none of them were quite foolish enough to believe those were all he had on hand.

A call from Hotch was the nail in the coffin. “Derek?” His voice had the consistency of a sick September wind, that last dying gasp of summer over early crisped leaves. Derek almost didn't realize it was him, not at first. He chalked it up to a number he didn't recognize but it was more than that.

“Aaron?” His heart stopped. No, he thought, it didn't just stop...it felt like it vanished. His chest became an empty cavity as the silent seconds ticked by. He checked his phone, made sure the call hadn't disconnected.

“He was in my mother's home.” His voice cracked on the word home, like he didn't mean it in the way it should have sounded. Like he had no idea what words to use. Every part of that sentence was strained through fear. That wasn't a home, not for him, but there was still something there...some awful tie and Hotch sounded like he might be sick. That probably wasn't as surprising as it felt. Derek fell into the couch and pressed one hand to his face. It all happened at once.

“Are you sure it was him?”

“He claimed to be Roy Colson, the reporter from Boston who wrote the books about the Reaper years ago. I called Roy,” he paused, sucking in a breath that Derek knew sounded like pain. Like he'd twisted wrong, said too many words in one go, he couldn't be sure because he had no fucking clue what Hotch even looked like right now. Was he healing? Was he worse? “Roy never spoke to my mother, and I believe him. He would have asked my permission first. I trust him, Derek. So that leaves us with...”

“Foyet.” Derek couldn't really focus on the words, he knew they were important but the voice...hearing Hotch's voice...he hadn't realized how badly he'd needed that one simple thing. “Come home,” he blurted out and was met with silence. “You and Jessica, come here. I can't protect you if you're not here.”

“Derek,” Hotch started, his voice hardly more than a whisper. “It isn't that simple.”

Derek had no idea what that meant, but he hated it. Made him want to scream. He didn't, though, he didn't scream. He just said “Okay” and stayed on the line as long as Hotch would hang on, hoping for nothing more than hearing him breathing.

(x)

“Have you seen Hotch?” Penelope asked, when she had Derek to herself after a long conference call with everyone. Always awkward, everyone tried to speak over one another, a steady stream of jumbled voices loud enough to make Derek's head pound. Now it was just the two of them, though. . He paced the apartment, staring at the newly mudded wall waiting for him to sand and paint. Little insurance policy tucked neatly inside for a rainy day, safe and sound.

“Not yet.”

“What are you waiting for?”

Derek closed his eyes, shoulders slumping. “Him.”

#aaron hotchner #derek morgan #criminal minds #hotchgan #mortch #penelope garcia #fran morgan #jessica brooks

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brandnewhuman · 2 years

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HI HOW ARE U DOING?

omg i haven't been in tumblr for a while D": i mean i wasn't that inactive, i logged in when i felt like it but i was not that active and interactive

so how have you been? :D have you been drinking enough water? have you been eating properly?

From my part i haven't been really well, i feel like everything is going bad instead of good, like i am not getting better but just getting worse and acting like i'm aren't. BUT luckily everything will get better :D i try to keep that mindset when i can ;;

BUT I'M NOT HERE TO COMPLAIN, MAN I AM SO MAD AT HALLOWEEN END, IT'S LIKE, I DON'T KNOW HOW MANY MINUTES PASSED AND WE DIDN'T GOT A CHANCE TO SEE MICHAEL MYERS. IN HIS OWN FUCKING MOVIE, i mean yeah corey was kinda hot but 😔 like man i wanted so bad to be horney for michael and in the end we didn't got as many scene moments to see him, AND IN THE FINAL MOMENTS HE GOT INSTANTLY KILLED, AND WHEN WE HAD THE CHANCE TO HAVE SOME SCENES HE WAS JUST GETTING BULLIED BY COREY, I JUST- i don't know dude i got so excited for the movie and i just ended up dissapointed 😭 but well, at least it entertained me :D

ALSO, I WANT TO DRAW SOMETHING BUT I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DRAW AND I WANT IT TO BE SLASHER THEMED SO PLEASE GIVE ME IDEAS. IF I GET TO DRAW SOMETHING I WILL SHOW IT TO U ( >▽< )

(Also- i got another of those weird dreams with slashers 😭 i was really short but it was about billy lenz. I remember that in the dream i woke up in my room and billy was there in a corner and i obviously started screaming (i don't know if from fear or from enthusiasm) but then he tried to kill me, and all of suddendly i grabbed an fork from under my pillow (i don't know why) and started to threaten him HAJSJJA and for some reason he also had a fork and well we started having an fork fight. Then i woke up 💀 my dreams are really fucking weird but they are so funny i just can't get enough of them-)

WELL BYE SORRY IF THIS IS LONG BUT I LOVE INTERACTING WITH THIS ACCOUNT ;;-;;

OH MY GOD BRO HIIIII. I WAS GETTING KINDA WORRIED

You did the right thing in taking a break if you needed it. Don't force yourself into interacting or doing stuff that drains your already very low energy. Take good care okay? Eat, take your meds, drink water, try to go for a walk if you can and do something that makes you feel happy and relaxed. I DON'T WANT ONE OF MY FAV GREMLINS TO GET SICK OR ANYTHING OKAY?

But no for real bro, I may not know exactly what you're going through but I know the feeling of not getting anywhere good with your life and its really hard when you feel like that. Not gonna tell you yOu hAVe tO bE poSiTivE or yOu dOnT hAVe to WoRRy abOuT it. If you need to feel sad or you need to say rant ecc then do it bro. You have every right to feel bad or sad and to complain about it.

You're very right about the fact that things can't stay forever like this. One day it would be less hard to go on and other days won't, you just have to find some reasons to keep going until the good days come back. SO YEAH TAKE CARE AND DON'T LISTEN TO ANYONE GIVING YOU SHIT OR SAYING HOW OR HOW TO NOT FEEL.

Now speaking of halloween ends THAT SHIT WAS ASS. THEY BULLIED MY BELOVED PEEPAW, THEY TURN HIM INTO A USELESS OLD FART USING A SEWER AS A RETIREMENT HOUSE. THEY LET A DERANGED TWINK BEAT HIM UP AND STEAL HIS MASK AND CALL HIM AN OLD MAN.

Like for real WHO THE FUCK THOUGHT THAT MOVIE WAS SOMETHING RIGHT TO DO

Like I was so happy too about it cause I have been feeling like shit and I was so hyped to see some peepaw content JUST FOR THEM TO PULL THAT FUCKING SHIT.

Yes corey was hot, yes he was a good character BUT THEY RUINED HIM TOO SO WTF WAS THE POINT OF PUTTING HIM IN THE MOVIE.

ANYWAYS BRO YOU SAID YOU NEEDED SOME IDEAS FOR SLASHER DRAWINGS? I've been trying to draw slashers but like as cute ghost and doing Halloween things I KNOW ITS BASIC BUT YOU COULD TRY. YOU'RE CERTAINLY WILL DO BETTER THAN ME

Bro your dreams should be subject of study CAUSE AT THIS POINT NOT EVEN I CAN KEEP UP WITH THEM. WHERE DOES YOUR BRAIN FIND SO MUCH IMAGINATION

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abbynx · 2 years

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A friend's friend

Adrian Chase, Reader and Chris Smith being besties.

Genre: Platonic, maybe a little angsty

Warning: Mentions of Chris past, cursing

A/N: @bvcksmurdock along with other friends proposed this fic idea and I just can't resist.

The main concept is the end of the scene of Episode four, where Adrian gets a little vulnerable.

So yes... Please enjoy.

"You good there, Y/N?" Chris asks out of concern, glancing from the passenger seat to see you have draped yourself across the backsea, face first and had heard your muffled groaning for an extensive period of time.

You only hold up a thumb up, lifting your head ever so slightly to give them man an awkward smile, before face planting on the seat again. "It's insulting that I'm the first man down and I am an Argus agent and I've been doing this gig since forever. Mother fucker gave me a concussion. That fight last night was rigged, you guys surely paid the guy to knock me out first."

"That doesn't even make sense! He's the enemy, why would we—"

God, do I need to clarify that I was being sarcastic?

"Hey Adrian?"

"Hmm?"

"Shut up."

You can never understand why and how can Chris tolerate this shithead. But your guess a friend's friend is now your friend as well. As much as Adrian is proud of his title of "Peacemaker's best friend", you were the first friend Chris has, ever since you were young. You've fought with him on the fighting ring, attended school with him (until you were expelled and pulled out due to behavioural issues). You find yourself working under Amanda Waller with an extensive range of arsenal and fighting style and reunited with your childhood best friend through this little escapade.

Adrian is admittedly, a tad bit jealous of your friendship, but you never had a threesome with Chris, so there's that! Who is the Chris' Ultimate bestie now?

Much to his detriment, his bestie points aren't high enough to convince Chris not to allow you a ride at the backseat, with Adrian's Vigilante mask off. Great, now you know who he is. You couldn't care less about his identity, you figured he was the busboy back at Fennel Fields staring at Chris. You recognised his body language immediately. Though you're a cool person, Adrian is still a little bitter about you. He internally promised to himself that if you spilled about his identity, you will be dead. At least there, he would have Chris all to himself.

After a round of bickering in the car in front of the Smith lawn about dad's, you can only stay silent and scoff at the fact that Chris' old bastard has an upside down flag on his lawn. Chris left the car, leaving you and Vigilante within it.

Peaceful and silence at last, but you can't help but to feel wary to hear the man who never shuts up, shutting up. Peaking from one eye, you realise he is taking his clothes off in favour of a civilian outfit.

"What are you doing?"

"Changing." He answers in a as a matter of factly-tone.

You roll your eyes with a sigh, "I know dumbass, but why?"

"To blend in. I can't be seen walking in full uniform in broad daylight." He says, shrugging on a red jacket and zipping it halfway to show his blue shirt underneath.

"Yesterday you were just hiding behind a trash can spying on us, in broad daylight." And you can recall how fucking ridiculous was his exchange with Harcourt was.

"That wasn't me, that must've been my clone."

"Don't tell me you're going in after Chris." You swerve the conversation away before it can get convoluted. Not even a day of knowing him, he already strikes you as someone who can get ridiculously out of hand. He sat in silence, void of the intention to respond. You tip your head forward in anticipation. "Well?"

"Well you said I shouldn't tell you." He was mildly annoyed when he said that.

"Whatever. You're an adult, I'm not stopping you."

"I won't listen to you anyways," he speaks in an obnoxious, high pitched voice, before slamming the car door.

You can only roll your eyes at him, before turning yourself to your side to get comfortable at the backseat. At least he didn't shut the air-conditioning off. The battle from last night was humiliating, and you have a raging headache to prove it. The painkillers has yet to take effect and it was driving you off the wall. It was as if your mild concussion wasn't enough after your ego was bruised in that fight.

You stir yourself upwards and looked outside when you heard a commotion. You wouldn't really bother, it's typical for Chris to get into a screaming match, but something reeled you in to eavesdrop.

"You're gonna end up like your father soon enough."

Your stomach dropped at the mention of it. You knew the debacle regarding Economos placing August Smith to replace the fingerprints in some woman's murder and Murn had begged you not to tell Chris. At least not yet.

Next thing you knew, Adriam is behind the steering wheel again whilst Chris was livid.

"Chris please, calm down—"

"You knew! You knew and you didn't tell me?!"

You slink away, giving him the space he needs. "I was going to tell you but Murn's orders—"

"Fucking Murn! Fuck this team! I thought I could trust you!" Chris fumes, digging through his pocket to fish for his phone before he calls the leader of this operation. "What the fuck Murn! The only way to get the cops off our tail is to frame my dad for what I did? It's my dad, man! Jesus, you ever have a fucking dad?! No, no, my dad's in jail and I'm going to see him. Well fuck you, man! You people only care about yourselves anyways!"

You shrink from the backseat, hiding your arms to your chest. You really did intend to tell him if it weren't for Murn holding you back, if you could, you would defy him. But with the microchip in the base of your skull, you can't.

You remain silent and unresponsive to your environment, as if shutting down. To be told that he thought he could trust you was a massive blow to your remaining humanity. He's the remnant of one of the most bearabke stage of your life and reuniting with him years later was the best fucking feeling you ever felt... But now it's gone.

The car arrives at the Evergreen police station. Ahhh, Evergreen Police. It was about time that old fart got arrested, but under false charges, it didn't feel right. You just wished he served more prison time when he was White Dragon. The ruinous bastard who calls himself the White Dragon, and yet everything he touches turns to black, decay. Your father had interacted with him, and he transformed into a stranger, a monster. You just wished Chris just cut the bastard off.

You were hesitant to walk alongside them, but you did anyways, Adrian turned the air-conditioning off. You keep your pace behind them, hands in your pocket and head down in shame. The more you see Chris nearer and nearer by the steps of the station, you couldn't take it anymore.

"Chris—"

"Fuck off, L/N. You were supposed to be my friend." He doesn't turn to face you, he quicken his pace.

Clicking your tongue, you jogged over to block his path. "Please just listen to me for a second. We messed up, it was an impulsive decision and we had to think fast, please don't do this— this will destroy what we've been working for."

Thankfully, he halts in his tracks to lend an ear for you. "Was it Murn?"

"It was Economos." Snitching wasn't your style, but knowing Murn, he might issue another meeting regarding this, so telling Chris will not change a thing.

"Motherfucker! How'd he do it?"

"He change the car registration from your name to your dad's, along with your fingerprints to his. Double checking isn't exactly a protocol." His face softens at the slightest at your honesty, but he assumes back to his task.

"I can't just abandon him. I gotta talk to him—" before he can take another step, you block him again.

"Chris, your father is not worth visiting. He's an ungrateful wretch who ruined your life—"

"YOUR FATHER SOLD YOU OFF FOR BOOZE MONEY!"

You scoff, "Really? You're swerving the topic away from you to utelise my past trauma on me? That's the lengths you'll go through to defend your father?"

"At least I don't psychoanalyze other people to make myself feel better!"

"Look, my point is this is a perfect opportunity to finally cut him off! What's the best he's done for you? Sure, he provided you you gadgets and weapons and shit, but what good has he contributed to your life? Nothing good." His silence made you continue. "He is a white supremacist who dresses up as a 'superhero' called the White Dragon. He is the opposite of what you fight for."

"He's not as bad as he seems!"

"He thinks people with coloured skins are second class citizens! He thinks men showing emotions are pansies! He objectifies women, he placed you—" you stopped. Spilling further will not be doing you better, but the most important thing is that you got your point across. You resume after a deep breath, "I know that we look up to our parents and believe that they are inherently good, that they have a soft spot. But your dad? Chris, I don't think he's ever told you he is proud of you. He is not a good man. Not ever."

Every word has embedded deep within his brain, that he grows lax. For a moment you thought he wasn't going to continue visiting his father in prison, but he remains stubborn.

"He's still family." And with that, he walks off.

You've done your part and you failed. You can only watch with detriment as he enters the establishment. You closed your eyes and leaned your head back, heaving a breath to lift the heavy feeling off your chest. "Goddamn it, Chris."

"He's got to do what he's got to do, I guess..." Adrian muses beside you, placing both of his hands in his hips.

"Whatever, I need to sit down..."

If you continue any further to stand there, the reservoir in your eyes might just burst. Adrian follows you, seating himself a good one feet away from you. The awkward silence lingers between the two of you.

Admittedly, Adrian felt a little triumphant when Chris told you off in the car. Hmm, that means he is now the Ultimate best friend! But then the confrontation awhile ago made his heart sink in guilt. Maybe you are Chris' Ultimate bestie for a reason, you've known him since childhood and distance and years of not seeing each other, the two of you maintained a sturdy bond. Adrian saw how deep you got into Chris' past and knew which words to use to convince him. He was convinced Chris would listen to you, but alas.

"You think they'll arrest Peacemaker in there?" He spoke to fill in the silence.

"No. We got his father arrested in his stead. Unless Chris tells his father about the switcheroo we made then maybe they might." Adrian sighs in disappointment. Well, isn't that uplifting of you. "Chris and I... We were friends. He was a little shithead, I was a littleshithead and we bonded a lot as kids. I remember the two of us playing pretend that we were a popular rock band, he said he was the main vocal playing drums while I do the main melody of a guitar, and we would just make instrument cut outs made of cardboard and just— rock away."

Adrian spots a small, get sad smile on your dazed face as you recall the past, he couldn't help but to smile as well.

"And in rainy days, we would just be listening to music, blare the speakers off and jump around the room. His favourite colour is red, and I'm happy that it still is. When we were little we planned to sneak in concerts when we hit middle school and try to get in the VIP seats but then my dad had me taken away before we can do that." The smile fades from your features. "His dad told my dad that the best way to gain instant cash was to sell me off the black market... And he did. So in hindsight, his dad ruined my life too.

"I just don't get why Chris remains connected to his old man, it's simply unhealthy. Chris is somewhat of a good guy, like you. I'm glad he met you to provide him some sort of company. He would have felt so alone but thankfully you're there... Even if you're annoying." Adrian does not know whether to be flattered or offended, all he can do was to stare at you. "I'm sorry if it seems like I'm taking him away from you, I'm not. He's my friend too and I wish him the best there is. But if he keeps clinging to his old man, Chris is going to continue to be unhappy with life.

"I hope the old man would just drop dead. Then and there. So that Chris' won't be worrying about him anymore and that our operation won't be fucked up." There was a wishful look in your eyes, only to be then dampened with pessimism. "As much as I constantly shit on Chris' old man, the guy is tough. Weapon or no weapon. Other than that, he has followers everywhere. That's how strong of a man he is."

Adrian stares at you, your gaze distant as if you ran with the memories in your head, before he stood from his seat. You break from your reverie to glance up at him. "Where are you going?"

"I gotta do something..."

"Um... Okay..." You stare at his form as he walks away, before you took another breath. Recalling those memories had you tearing up. Why can't you just return to your old life? However, before you can allow yourself to fully shed tears, you see Chris approaching, causing you to scurry and vigorously wipe the cuff of your sleeves under your eyes.

"Where's Vigilante?"

"He went somewhere, I don't know where." You huffed, attempting to maintain a nonchalant composure. Maybe the guy went home after seeing you spill your guts out about how much of a bestie you were with Chris. "How did it go?"

"He said he'll rat us out." Of course he would.

You just nodded slowly, staring off into space again. "Let's just go home. I'm tired." You took hold of his wrist and began to walk him to the car.

"Hey, what do about—"

"Murn will work it out. Let's just go home."

"Murn said we gotta keep eyes on Vigilante—"

"He cannot walk without limping and whine as if he is dying, do you think he'll go far?"

Chris sighs, you always make a good point. You take Vigilante's place in the driver's seat and started the vehicle with a makeshift key in your pocket.

"You're going to be fine, Chris." You uttered to fill the silence with substance, whilst you keep your eyes fixed on the road.

He scoffs, "My dad hates my guts. Everybody hates my guts. I'm a choad... Not a good kind."

"I don't hate your guts and I think you're a good choad." Whatever does choad even means, anyways?

Chris smiles at your direction. "Thanks."

"Wanna stop by a seven eleven to buy noodles? We can make noodle chips and maybe a pack of—" your phone in your pocket began to vibrate, much to your dismay. Sighing, you shimmy your phone out of your pocket, answering it without catching a glimpse of the contact info. "Hello?"

"Oh my god! We are so incredibly fucked! Like, next level fucked! Okay, I checked restraints they were right and I don't know how they got lose!"

"Judomaster?" Your blood ran cold. Oh god, the green thing that gave a mild concussion escaped? Before you can get any response, a commotion on the other side of the line disrupted you train of thoughts. Without a second thought, you did a 180 and sped back to the HQ. "Sorry Chris, we gotta go back. Judomaster escaped."

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Somehow, Murn had gotten a word that Vigilante has got himself arrested.

"Every time I turn around one of you is doing something fucked up! I thought Waller gave me soldiers! Instead I got an Apple dumpling gang!"

You disregard their following banter and held your head in your hands. You weren being serious, why did he do it? You should have known better than to ramble off like that.

"You told Vigilante to kill Peacemaker's father?" Murn finally turns his attention to you after he told John a crisp 'Fuck you'.

"I didn't tell him to kill Auggy, I was just going off hypothetically! I didn't specify that he should kill him! How am I supposed to know he's going to take it seriously?" You look up from your hands.

"Seeing as we already losing his trust, how would he feel that we manipulated his best friend to kill his father?!"

Everyone's attention shifts to John again. It almost felt like he was the one under scrutiny over you. When they were done with John, Murn turns to you once again.

"He'll know what you did, not only that, his father is the goddamned White Dragon, is a trained killer! He could kill Vigilante, were taking in the butterflies, one man down!"

"I'm so sorry, Murn..." You sighed. It was not your intention to fuck it up, you were simply recalling the good time and wishing the guy would just die. Though you meant it, you knew it wouldn't be brought to reality. You underestimated Vigilante's thinking and Chris would think of you as a traitor. Vigilante might just be fucked in the prison you knew you couldn't stand against the White Dragon let alone Adrian.

"Can you get Vigilante out of the system before he screws us worse than we're already screwed?" Murn refers to John.

"I don't even know his name." John stood from his seat and headed behind his desk, on his computer.

"5'11, green eyes, brown hair, white guy... The busboy at Fennel Fields..." You describe, watching Economos' fingers danced across the keyboard.

"Got him. Adrian Chase."

Harcourt turns to you with furrowed brows. "I'm sorry, that guy?"

You nodded, "Yup."

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

You caught Harcourt on her way out of the bar and timidly approached her, hands deep in your pocket. "Hey Harcourt umm... Can I accompany you picking up Adrian?"

"Sure." Thankfully she didn't mind you. Unlike the rest of the team, she tolerated you the most. She's known you for as long as she can remember in Argus and you've always been a good agent... She was confused how you fucked it all up like that.

You boarded the passenger seat and strapped yourself in her car, before it started to head to the Evergreen police station. Your clammy hands remained clenched in your pocket wanting to transfer the pressure in your chest elsewhere. You didn't even know if you could look Adrian in the eye, whatever happened to him there?

The inevitable arrived, Adrian just walked off the doors and stopped when he saw you and Harcourt.

"We're taking you home, get in." You were shocked at Harcourt's uncharacteristically soft voice, it was warm and welcoming. You expected her to chastise the fuck out of Adrian and readied yourself to stop her.

He enters the backseat quietly. You glance at him from the rearview mirror. Not an injury was visible, contrary to your worries. You might just not forgive yourself to accidentally using your voice to manipulate someone into making your wishes come true. And those wishes are not particularly easy to make into fruition without being scathed.

"He's still alive... I-I'm Adrian by the way..."

"I'm Y/N. Nice to meet you Adrian." You turn your head at him at the backseat with a small smile.

"I think I might've made things worse..."

The small quiver in his voice made your heart clench. You glance at Harcourt to be granted a silent permission. She gives you a small smile, nodding at you. You unclasp the seatbelt off, before squeezing yourself between the passenger and driver seat to get to Adrian. You took his hand in yours and gave it a small squeeze.

"It's okay... We'll get through this..." You reassure him, before engulfing him in your arms.

He freezes, before he allows himself to melt in your embrace.

Huh... No wonder you're Chris' Ultimate bestie, you have the most warmest hugs. Maybe he can be your bestie too... A friend's friend is a friend after all.

#x reader #adrian chase x reader #chris smith x reader #platonic #peacemaker hbo max #peacemaker fanfic #peacemaker x reader #vigilante x reader #friendship #angst

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soyouthinkucanwrite · 3 years

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What did he say? - Daniel Ricciardo one shot

Update: I just realized it's Carlos' birthday TODAY! I'm so so sorry hahaha I feel like a jerk, but it's just play pretend ok?

Guys, this is based on a dream I had but listen, it’s so weird cause I KNOW this is not like Carlos AT ALL. He’s kind of the vilan in this one... Please don’t be mad if you’re a Carlos fan, it’s just for fun, I swear. I’ll even try to write something with him later to make it up to you guys! Also, I clearly don't know how vacuum works in racing, so again, just humor me and pretend I got it right, ok?

As always, please take the time to let me know what you think, means a lot to me (even if it’s constructive criticism)! And thank you so much to everyone that always does! 💕 Your lovely messages always motivate me to keep writing!

Warnings: angst, jealous Daniel, kind of a dick Carlos (again, sorry! I know he’d never)

I was in the “side stage” at the press room for the Austin GP, the first I ever went and of course, the first with Daniel, as his girlfriend. He was answering questions along with Pierre Gasly on stage. There were a few people besides me, including some of the drivers, waiting for their turn to face the press.

"Coco, ¿quién es?" I heard Carlos Sainz whispering to his cousin, nodding his head in my direction.

"No conozco. ¿Creo que es periodista?" his cousin answered looking at me. I just acted like I wasn't listening, or understanding, not sure why though.

"No, si fuera periodista estaría allá fuera, haciendo preguntas" Carlos continued.

"Sí, pero no me parece estar perdida" his cousin commented, they kept whispering but I could hear them very clearly.

"Qué pena, no me importaría darte direcciones" Carlos said with a smirk and I felt really uncomfortable at that, which only made me stay even more frozen in place and wish Daniel came back sooner.

"Si no te conociera, diría que acabas de romper una relación. Ni siquiera puedes ver a una chica alrededor" his cousin said hitting him playfully in the head.

"¿Y te parece esta una chica cualquier? Siempre debes andar con supermodelos, ¿no?" Carlos joked back.

"Vale, tienes razón" his cousin answered him and I was counting the seconds for Daniel to come back now.

"Pero sin duda es nueva aquí. Me recordaría de algo como eso. Tampoco pienso ser americana, ellas no tienen esta-" Just then someone called him.

"Sainz, you're up next" Daniel walked out, coming by my side. "Hey" he said to me and I smiled. "They just asked to wait 5 minutes, something about changing the batteries of the mics" he said looking back at Carlos, his cousin, and Kimi, who was going to be pairing with Carlos in the press conference and was just hanging in the corner by himself this whole time.

"Alright, thanks mate" Carlos answered.

"Hey, have you guys met (y/n)? Carlos, Carlos, (y/n)... (y/n), Carlos, Carlos" Daniel made the introductions grinning like a teenager, probably finding it super funny that they had the same first name.

"¡Hola! Mucho gusto en conocerlos, soy (y/n). ¿Como están?" I extended my hand to greet them, feeling much more confident now that I had a 5' 9" Australian by my side. They looked startled at me and then at each other.

“¿Hablas español?” Carlos asked me.

“Sí, y compreendo muy bien también” I told him and my tone made it clear I knew exactly what they were talking about earlier and didn’t like it a bit.

"Carlos, Kimi, they're ready for you" an assistant called.

"Good one kid" Kimi said to me when he walked past us, winking at Daniel. Carlos followed him to the stage and since I didn't want to just stand there in the remains of the awkward situation with Dan and Carlos’ cousin, I just walked in the opposite direction, outside the press room. Not too long after, Daniel walked after me.

"Hey, what was that about?" he asked, still smiling. Boy, he wouldn't be smiling for too long after I told him what that was about.

"What?" I asked, trying not to make a big deal. He reached for my hand, taking it in his.

"You know what. Come on, what happened back there? Did you guys know each other?"

"No!" I have to tell him now, or he'll think I have something to hide. I took a deep breath. "They were talking between themselves before you come out, in Spanish. And I don't think they thought I could understand" he looked at me confused but then it hit him and his expression changed from confusion to rage.

"What did they said?"

"Nothing, it's not a big deal ok? I just wanted to let them know I could understand, so I just said 'hello' in Spanish, that's all" I said, walking away from the place where we were standing and pulling his hand. God knows I didn't want to be there when Carlos walked out, or better, for Daniel to be there.

"I figured that much. But what did he said? Just tell me" Daniel looked at me.

"Let's just go? Please? It's not worth it. What are you going to do? Sucker punch him?"

"Do I need to sucker punch him? Is it that bad?"

"No! Dan, please, let's just go. This is not going to lead us anywhere"

"(y/n)"

"I'll tell you. Promise. Back at the trailer, okay?" I tried to negotiate.

"Fine"

When we stepped back inside his driver's room, Daniel closed the door and looked at me.

"Alright. Spill it"

"Promise me you won't do anything to him"

"Absolutely not. The longer you stall me, the more pissed off I get"

"Okay” I knew I had no choice and honestly, why should I protect him really? I’m just worried about how this might make Daniel feel. “They were wondering who I was, his cousin was teasing him saying he was only interested because he just ended a relationship"

"That's not all" he said and I didn't answer, just looked away, shaking my head. "Alright. I'm sorry you had to hear that. But you can tell me these things ok? I want to protect you baby" He said stepping closer to me and hugging me.

"I don't want you to cause trouble for something stupid"

"Hey!" he said pulling away a bit to look at me. "This is not stupid. Nothing about you is stupid. It's a big deal baby, that’s plain disrespectful. I want you here with me, always. And I want you to feel comfortable here, okay?"

"I feel comfortable now" I said hugging him closer. He smiled and kissed the top of my head.

"Fuckers" he whispered to himself.

"Promise me you won't confront him. He'll deny, or start a fight. Or both. And besides, it’s not so much what he said, it’s more like how they were eyeing me. And I don't want you to get involved in a scandal" I said pulling away and sitting down in a chair. Daniel leaned against the table, looking at me.

"A scandal?" he laughed.

"You do know gossip is the major product of motorsports, right?" I smirked at him.

"Fair enough" he agreed. "Fuck baby, the things I have to deal with for having a goddess as a girlfriend" he was joking now, so the mood seemed lighter, but knowing Daniel, I knew he hadn't completely let that go yet. I just rolled my eyes at him. Hopefully, the events of the weekend would be enough to get his mind out of it.

Friday and Saturday kept us busy enough so that we didn’t touch the subject anymore, but I could still catch Daniel staring at Carlos here and there. And I could definitely see Carlos staring at me too, which I tried to avoid at all costs, staying out of his visual field. If Daniel saw that, I don’t know if I’d be able to hold him back again.

On Sunday I’d be watching from the garage with Michael and Blake, which was super exciting, to see all the action from the front row. But I didn’t want to disturb Daniel’s routine, so I tried to stay back a little. Yet, he kept coming to steal kisses and joke around. He seemed really relaxed and confident. He was P5 and I took the care to see that Carlos was P8, so I knew they might race each other eventually but I also knew that Dan would be much more preoccupied doing what he does best and overtaking the 4 in front of him to even think about whoever was behind. Everything was going to be fine, no harm done.

“Alright. Time to go” he announced to me. “Kiss for good luck?”

“Good luck. Just go and do what you do best, okay? And try to come back in one piece” I smiled through the kiss and then watched him take his helmet from the table, wink at me, and turn to walk towards his Mclaren. My chest was tight but I could only pray and hope now.

The cars were already outside the garage for some reason, so Dan was walking out when Carlos passed in front of the orange crew. He stopped to greet some of them and that would be fine, except he was not paying any attention to the people he was talking to. He was looking inside the garage like he was looking for something, or rather someone, cause when he saw me he nodded like he was greeting me and checked me out, head to toes. Dan saw it and looked back inside just in time to see me step aside, behind Michael, clearly uncomfortable with the whole thing.

“Hey... man” Carlos greeted Daniel. And his tone made me sure that it wasn’t even about me anymore. Carlos knew how much it must be bothering Daniel and was clearly using it to try and get him pissed off and unfocused. The thing is, very few things were capable of getting Daniel out of his “all good all ways” vibe, but when they did, you definitely don’t want to be on his way. I’m actually a bit worried about the other drivers now, Carlos included, because Dan just turned back to his machine, like he knew exactly what he was going to do and nothing would stop him, getting inside the car a mere formality. He didn’t even bother to take a second look at Carlos.

“Oh boy” I commented.

“Yeah, I saw it” Michael said to me. “What was that about anyway? I thought they got along fine”. I don’t say anything else, and from that moment on my eyes are glued to the screen in front of us, following any micro movement Daniel makes.

They go for the warm-up lap, which feels like it takes forever, and then, finally, Grid formation. That sign must be broken cause the lights also took hours to change.

3, 2, 1... there they go. Thank god we’re wearing masks, otherwise, my nails and fingertips would be long gone.

The first turn is a sharp one and Daniel had an opening to overtake Perez, the first driver in front of him, we could see it clearly from the drone view, but he didn’t take it. What is he doing?

“What is he doing?” Somebody in the garage voiced my thoughts.

“You had an opening Daniel” the engineer said on the radio.

“All under control. I know what I’m doing. How far are the others behind me?” Daniel answered.

I hoped he wasn’t doing what I thought he was doing but I already knew he was. Being the risk-it-all-idiot he was, Dan was waiting for Carlos to catch up to him. Knowing him, I knew he wanted to race and beat him personally, which was crazy stupid, but wouldn’t take long since Carlos had already overtaken Gasly and Alonso, and was now only a few nanoseconds behind Daniel.

“Come on Dan” I said to myself.

“Come on Daniel” Blake practically yelled at the screen.

I feel like throwing up. He’s gonna get hurt and jeopardize all the work the team put into the weekend just to... to what? I don’t even know. If he gets out of this race alive, I’ll personally kill him.

The race’s still going, no major changes after the first turn. Then suddenly Daniel seems to remember he had a gas pedal, finally getting speed in the big straight and leaving Perez behind. Carlos followed him, seeming to use the vacuum in his favor. Everybody in the garage celebrates, but I’m too focused to cheer along. He’s so close to the podium now. Just keep it up, baby. Carlos is still on his tail.

“Good job mate” the engineer says on the radio. “Watch for Sainz on your right. Bottas’ next”

“Keep me posted on Sainz’s time” it’s all Daniel says.

A couple more laps go and he’s really trying to overtake Bottas, not playing games anymore. Carlos doesn’t seem to try to overtake him even once though, he’s too far behind still.

More laps go by and I can’t standstill. When they’re in the 19th lap, with Max and Hamilton battling each other and taking turns in the lead, Daniel’s voice comes on the radio.

“Let’s be the first to box” I’m not sure what he’s playing at, as it’s still too soon to box, but the team seems to agree.

“Copy that. I’ll let you know when. Let’s get a couple more laps in. Keep this up for now” his engineer answers.

“Understood” Daniel’s voice come through the radio. “How’s Sainz time?”

“At least 1.5 seconds behind you” the engineer informs him.

“Understood” Daniel says.

He’s planning something. Not sure what, and I don’t know if I even could, not knowing much about racing strategies, but it definitely has something to do with Carlos and what happened earlier.

“Ouch!” I hear Michael say and nod towards the screen, making me focus on the race again, and not only on Daniel. Max and Hamilton had touched tires. “They're really going at it, definitely using way more tires than necessary"

"If Dan box before them..." I begin to ask.

"He needs a fast box, gaining speed later and for their box to be slower, but yeah, that's his best shot at them" Michael explains to me.

"Come on baby" I whisper to myself.

Daniel seems to finally get close enough to Bottas, but the Finnish guy won't make it easy for him. Turn 11 on sector 2 will be his best shot now and it's getting closer.

The garage and the radio go silent. Feels like the whole world is holding their breaths while Daniel smoothly overtakes Bottas from his left. And then I almost go deaf with all the cheering around me, it's a podium for Daniel, for now.

Unfortunately, that doesn't seem to last too long, cause once he comes to the box all the other drivers will pass him. It's just so frustrating.

"Good job mate. Spectacular time. Box now" the engineer informs on the radio.

"Box confirmed. We need to ace this, boys" Daniels says.

Not even a full minute later, I hear his car and see it on the screen. I look outside to see the orange machine with the big 3 in front of it, but I don't even have time to try and take a look at him, cause 2.3 seconds later (or at least that's what the TV tells me) there he goes again. The good news is, only Bottas passed him. The bad news is he almost crashes into Carlos when he comes out of the Pit Lane.

Some of the crew were still celebrating the fast pit stop when they realized what happened. I let out a gasp. They touched tires but Carlos seemed to have managed to get away from Daniel, quickly returning to his side a moment later but struggling to keep it up. Dan, on the other side, seems unbothered. He keeps gaining speed, even though the pit exit is right on the first turn.

"Take it easy now mate, even if Sainz passes you, his time is not enough to stay in front" the engineer informs Daniel, clearly worried that the risk doesn't justify the ends.

"Understood" Daniel responds.

We're on lap 30 now and just as the engineer said, Carlos is a full 2 seconds behind Daniel. Bottas still in front of him (which is frustrating for me because he had just overtaken him before the pit stop), then Hamilton, and finally Max.

"Daniel" the engineer calls him. "How're the tires?"

"All good"

"Good. Ready to race, mate? Hamilton's going to box now"

"Before Bottas?"

"Yes, that's confirmed"

"Understood"

I listen to the conversation between Daniel and the engineer closely, but I can't say I know exactly what the implications are.

"Bottas' going to second, Daniel to third again. Let's hope for a slow pitstop for Hamilton, so when he comes out, he comes in third and races Daniel. That's the best-case scenario, so he needs to gain speed now" Blake explains to me.

"Got it" I confirm to him. "What about Bottas? He should box on the next lap right?"

"Yeah. If Daniel overtakes him still on this lap, the difference will be too big for him to recover after his pit stop. Hopefully" He tells me.

There's a lot of 'hopefullys' and 'best-case scenarios' in this conversation, but I'll take it. I start to silently pray right away, eyes glued to the screen to see exactly what Blake predicted unfold: Hamilton pit stops, Bottas and Daniel are the firsts to go up on the positions, then Carlos, Alonso, and Gasly. The first turn comes again and Dan seises the opportunity to overtake Bottas, who, to his credit, is fighting real hard, but Dan isn't letting him take back his position.

Dan is P2 now. Max is almost 3 seconds in front of him. Hamilton comes out of the pit lane behind Gasly, it should take him long to again his positions.

"Bottas to box on this lap mate" the engineer announces.

"Not worried about Bottas. What about Max?" Daniel answers. A few moments of silence follow.

"Box confirmed for Max on this lap as well. Just get closer to him" the engineer instructs.

"Understood" Daniel answers.

"Come on, baby" I cheer silently again.

"Fuck! He's gonna make it" Michael yells. "Come on Daniel!"

Bottas is 2 seconds behind Daniel, and on the big straight Daniel manages to shorten his time difference to Max to 1.8 seconds. The next thing I know, Max is coming down the pit lane, quickly followed by Bottas. Daniel is P1. I can't believe this. Carlos is P2, but he hasn't boxed yet. Surprisingly enough, Alonso is P3 and, not so surprisingly, Hamilton is already P4 and gaining speed.

"Alonso hasn't boxed yet" Blake comments. That's bad news if we were hoping for him to defend his position against Hamilton. I take a look on the TV and they're showing the conditions of his tires, which to me doesn't mean anything.

"Will he be able to hold him?" I ask Blake.

"Not sure, he's tough though and doesn't want Hamilton to win, that's for sure" Blake answers me.

Then we hear Max passing outside, had almost forgotten about him.

"That took him longer than normal" Michael comments and we look at the screen, his pit stop was 3.6 seconds long. An eternity for the Redbull team. But awesome news for us. Bottas had already left the pit lane, his pit stop was 2.4 seconds long.

The grid is now Daniel, Carlos, Alonso, Hamilton, Bottas, and then Max. Alonso is still holding Hamilton back. Normally, I'd guess Carlos would box soon and maybe even Alonso, but since I know Carlos has some personal motivation against Daniel, I feel like he's going to hold on the longer he can and the same goes for Alonso regarding Hamilton.

We're at the final 10 laps now and nothing has changed, except Carlos is dangerously closer to Daniel now. Alonso still hasn't let Hamilton go by him, repeating the Hungaroring events. I hear the signal of the radio, indicating we're about to hear some communication between Daniel and his engineer, and my chest tightens. It's Daniel's voice that comes on then.

"Something wrong. I'm losing power" Fuck. No.

"Sainz is at your tail. Can you hold on?" the engineer asks.

"I don't know. Fuck. It's just not working. How much's the difference?"

"Less than 1 second"

"Fuck. Why hasn't he boxed yet?"

"His tires are in real bad condition. But I don't think he's going to do it now"

"I'll put some pressure on him"

"Negative. Negative. Stay away"

"Not going to touch him. Pinky promise" Bastard. I can hear the smirk in his voice, even though this is extremely dangerous and insane pressure, Daniel's still having the time of his life.

9 laps to go.

8 laps to go.

Carlos almost overtakes Daniel.

"Engine's not good. Can you do something?" Daniel asks.

"Negative. 7 laps to go mate, just hold it"

"Understood"

On the big straight of the 51st lap, Carlos overtakes Daniel, but then on the next turn, Daniel takes back his position. The sequel of turns that follows is the most nerve-wracking thing I've ever seen in my life, they're so close to each other, and at such a high speed that if they simply touch tires they would fly off the track and everything would be lost to both of them, maybe even their lives.

"Hamilton passed Alonso, mate. Watch out" the engineer informs him, and I look at the screen. Fuck.

"Fuuuuck" Daniel says on the radio.

It's the 52nd lap now, only 4 more to go and Carlos doesn't even signal a pit stop. He's going to try to make the whole race without it.

"Ferrari is not happy with him" Michael laughs a dark laugh. I knew he had a history of being stubborn but this is too much.

"His tires are at less than 10% integrity. How is he still going?" I ask.

There's the big straight again and Carlos falls a bit behind Daniel, but I've watched enough to know that that doesn't necessarily mean a good thing. Just as I predicted, he tries to use Daniel's vacuum to gain more speed and overtake him, Daniel doesn't let him through and get in front of him, making him almost go off track. That would be a "normal" movement, except Hamilton was using Carlos' vacuum in his favor and, when Carlos is forced to change directions, Hamilton hits his back left tire, which makes it blows off and it's a mess from then on.

Daniel is far from the whole ordeal by now, safe and sound, thankfully. But Carlos spins in the track, taking Hamilton with him. They both go off track and Max flies by, followed by Bottas, Charles (where did he come from?), and then Alonso.

"Are they alright?" It's the first thing that comes up to me to ask.

"Fuck! That was crazy. Is everyone ok?" Daniel asks on the radio.

"Positive. Everyone's ok. Keep going, mate. 3 more laps to go" the engineer informs him.

"Who's behind me now? Bottas?" Daniel asks.

"Max. But he's at least 2 seconds behind, we should be fine" I hear the engineer say and it's like I can almost breathe again. Daniel's going to win this thing. He's so close now.

"It wasn't Daniel's fault, was it? Can they punish him in some way for the accident?" I ask Michael.

"Don't know. He was defending his position, but he's been closing in Carlos ever since the begging of the race. Depends on how Ferrari and Mercedes spin this, they'll try anything that favors them" Michael explains to me in a worried tone.

They're in the final lap and Daniel's been clearly losing speed. Something's wrong with the engine. But it's the final lap, just a few more moments, come on baby, you can do it. Max is so close to him though, I wouldn't be surprised if the winner was declared based on the replay of the finishing line. The big straight comes up and Dan has to stay out of Max's front, so as to not give him any advantages.

I can barely see it, but at the same time, I can't take my eyes off the screen.

"Full force now mate, final sector. You can win this" the engineer says on the radio but Daniel doesn't respond. Max is right by his side, he's going to pass him.

There's smoke coming out of his car, the whole thing is going to blow off any second now. Oh my god, please just a few more seconds.

5 turns to go.

4 turns to go.

3 turns to go. Max overtakes him. Shit.

2 turns to go. Daniel wins his place on the podium back.

Final turn. Daniel's in the front, barely. They cross the finish line and the whole garage explores with cheering. There are people running outside to wave at him. I can only smile and hold my own head like it would fall off otherwise. He did it. He fucking did it.

"Woo-hoo! Yes! Yes! Fuck yes!" I can hear Daniel on the radio, screaming his lungs out.

"Good job mate. Spectacular work. First-class, really! Well done!" the engineer cheers on.

The next thing I know, Michael is hugging me and lifting me from the ground just to puck me back down and Blake lift me up again. I can only laugh at their excitement. I'm so happy for Daniel I can barely grasp it!

"Let's go!" Blake puts me down and runs outside the garage. I follow him out, to the place where Daniel is stopping the car, a bunch of smoke coming out and some people with fire extinguishers around it.

He's got his fists up, celebrating. But is still inside the car. Then he takes off the steering wheel and handles it to one of the mechanics waiting outside. He gets out of the car and stands on top of it, smokes still coming out from behind. It's a nice picture. I just hoped he got away from that thing before it explodes, but it's a nice picture, can't deny it.

Then he jumps down and run towards the crew, jumping over them, helmet still on. Everybody is celebrating and cheering, I can only laugh and clap at the scene before me. So much joy and happiness going on, the energy is amazing! Then I can see Daniel looking around, but since his helmet is still on, I have no idea what he's doing. Somebody seems to understand though and they wave at me, calling me to come closer. I approach, but I'm still unsure, don't want to get in the middle of the team's celebration. But Daniel grabs me, pulling me closer and hugging me. I just laugh, can't barely see him with the suit and helmet still on. He's saying something, but I can't understand a thing.

"What?" I laugh at his attempts to communicating with me. He opens his helmet visor and repeats.

"I fucking won baby!" He yells laughing.

"I know! I know! You won Dan! I'm so proud! You're the best baby!"

"I need to get this thing off" he says struggling to get the helmet and the balaclava off, when he finally manages to do it, he jumps over the fence that was separating us and hugs me again, lifting me in the air and kissing me deeply, making everyone around us cheer even louder and I smile against his lips. I wrap my legs around him and he keeps kissing me, only after a few seconds do I pull away to breathe and he touches our foreheads. I laugh again, just enjoying the feeling of pure happiness for him.

"I'm so proud of you. You were so good. This is crazy" I whisper to him.

"Get used to it, cause there's more where it came from" he answers kissing me again.

#daniel ricciardo #Daniel ricciardo fic #daniel ricciardo one shot #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 one shot #daniel ricciardo fluff #daniel ricciardo x reader

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maplecornia · 3 years

Text

chapter 11

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 2.89K

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: You watched them from the sidelines ever since you were a young teenage girl. Now you’re grown up, they’ve returned after 2 long years and everything has changed. What happens when you pull back the mask and find the darkness within? What happens when you see that they’re broken?

𝔞/𝔫: i super DUPER love this chapter, it's a BIG climax for the story

tags: @kookaine |@fangirl125reader |@kookiebbyxx |@taradevonne

Taehyung didn't mean to fall asleep.

When RM mentioned he was working on a new demo during practice today, he just had to listen to it. Namjoon, however, being the perfectionist he is, told Tae he couldn't listen in just yet. There was a certain point in the sound that he wasn't confident and still had to fix. Taehyung dropped it (after multiple moments of begging and pleading) and tried to forget about it for the rest of the day.

However, what with you showing up at the studio and his incessant curiosity, he just had to hear Namjoons song. It was like dangling a piece of bacon in front of a dog's nose, he just had to have a taste.

He planned to sneak in, sneak out, and have nobody know the wiser. Of course, like so many things, this did not go according to plan.

Unbeknownst to him, he entered the studio a few moments after you and RM hurried out of there, from the opposite side.

He listened to the song, before trying to find what RM could have possibly thought was bad about it.

Soon enough, the beautiful track had lulled him into a peaceful slumber.

Now, his head rests on his shoulder, as he slumps in the chair.

His face is slack, peaceful, his eyes fluttering as he dreams sweet dreams. His long eyelashes cast dark shadows over his cheeks, his hair fluttering with each breath. Thick and soft despite the natural curl that occurred after dancing for so long. He still has the slick shine that sweat leaves behind, turning his pure skin smooth and glowing.

He looks so beautiful, almost as perfect as the strokes an artist may create in a portrait.

When you enter the studio, having just finished cleaning Mon Studio, he is in the same state.

He utters a soft snore, but not one you'd be able to hear from behind glass. This time, you entered on the recording side.

You look around, awestruck once more by the beauty the room provides to your curious and hungry eyes.

Letting the door close in a small crack behind you, you set down your satchel, quickly cleaning up whatever trash you can find in the room. As you scan the instruments, you find that they are all fairly new, not even requiring a shiny new polish. Nevertheless, you grab a cloth sitting on a stool near the door and begin to carefully clean every instrument.

As you touch each one, the movement is a soft, caressing one. One that reminds you of the way your mother would use to run her hand through your hair as she brushed it each night.

You smile at the memory, realizing just how much you miss her, just how much her presence filled the holes in your heart.

Suddenly realizing how silent it is in the room, you set down the rag for a moment before turning and pulling out your phone. Pulling up your playlist, you press play, filling the world with music. As it turns it brighter, dancing with vibrant colors, you lean your head back and smile. After a moment, you turn back to your work, humming softly to yourself without even realizing it.

Your hums find their way into Taehyung's mind, his dreams. His lips curve into a grin at the sound, one of peace and tranquility as he falls deeper and deeper into his subconsciousness.

It takes you only a few minutes to clean the room.

You sigh, satisfied, as you set down the last instrument in its place, turning around to survey the room. You smile at your work, enjoying the good job you have done, having given this room the order and beauty it deserves.

After all, it provides the world with so much beauty on its own.

As you scan the room, your eyes fall on something behind you, the one thing you haven't touched yet.

The microphone.

It waits there, hovering in the air just waiting for someone to use it, someone to create beautiful music with it.

You walk towards it, slowly, trying to make sure it's not just a dream, that this is real.

As you look on, your eyes catch sight of your reflection in the mirror behind the microphone. It stands right in front of you, waiting, almost beckoning for you to use it. For you to give in to your desire.

For you to sing.

Setting down the rag, almost decidedly, you rush to the door on the far left of the room. There's a large rectangular window located to the right of the door and instead of going through the trouble of opening the door, you peer through it instead. There’s no one there, just a dark hallway stretching on forever.

Satisfied, and your heart beginning to pound with excitement, you rush to the right door, the one which you entered through. You find the door left open at a crack, but as there’s no one coming or going in this hallway either, you recklessly shut it. It bounces softly, the latch not catching and creaking slowly to a small crack once more.

Adrenaline coursing through your veins, you grab the stool you were once using to polish the instruments with and set it expertly in front of the microphone.

Glancing up from positioning it, your eyes meet a darker reflection, reminding you that there is a studio behind the recording area.

The same one where you and Namjoon were working not too long ago.

Swallowing hard, you walk over to the one-sided glass until you rest your hand securely on it, the glass cool underneath your fingertips, only a few inches away. Leaning forward, you peer into the other half of the studio, cupping your hands around your eyes so that you can see any figures in the room, if not their faces.

What you don't know, however, is that Taehyung, who sleeps on the other side, has slumped so far down in the black chair that you wouldn't be able to see him anyway.

When you find no trace of anyone there, you knock on the glass, trying to see if anyone hiding will react, before scanning the other half of the room.

At the knock, Taehyung lets out a small cry. Losing his precarious balance, he falls out of his chair crashing to the floor in surprise.

In your peripherals, you see a slight movement that causes your eyes to flashover. You're too late though, he’s already fallen on the ground, and you can only see the vacant chair which he was in a mere second ago. Satisfied, you pull away, grinning excitedly at your expression in the one-sided glass.

Just as Taehyung rises to his feet, groaning and rubbing the back of his head, he sees you. Eyes widening, he takes a startled step backward. As he does, he slips on the chair and falls, the chair spinning off him in a great tour of the room.

“What the….” he begins, as he pulls himself up once more.

He watches as you let out a cute squeal, jumping a bit at the thought of being able to sing in a recording studio. He lets out a soft laugh, shaking his head.

“What is she doing?”

Bouncing back to the seat, you settle in the stool, clearing your throat. Tapping the microphone softly, you smile at the satisfying echoing sound it makes. Before you do anything you pull out your phone, searching for a song to sing.

As one particular song catches your eye, you freeze, your smile fading a bit.

It’s the same song that you used to listen to…

...with him by your side.

It was your song, the song which labeled you as lovers, the song which was the summary of your relationship.

Now, it is just the song that reminds you of your pain.

It is the lie of what you once thought was true.

Almost out of spite, you play it.

Taehyung can see it as your expression falls, changing into something dark. He steps forward, but the soundboard prevents him from going much further. Blinking in slight surprise, he snaps out of his reverie, clearing his throat as he looks up at you once more.

The expression passes, however, and you take the headphones lying on the microphone securing them around your ears. You clear your throat, leaning forward, your eyes downcast. Once the intro ends, and at the sound of your cue, you open your mouth and begin to sing.

It's been so long.

So long since you've even trusted yourself to experience the joys which come with music. The feeling it inspires in your heart, the emotions you experience deep in your soul, the way it clears and heals your mind.

You close your eyes pouring your heart into the song.

Every bottled-up emotion.

Every little drop of pain.

As the song moves onward, you find yourself shaking, the emotions becoming too much for you to bear. Your very voice drips with them; with pain, sorrow, and loneliness. Every demon which has plagued you for as long as you can remember seems to be reborn as you sing, the melody awakening emotions that you thought were locked safely away.

It takes all you have not to break down.

You have to be strong.

You have to fight back.

You have to be okay.

Taehyung witnesses this all as it happens before him.

He finds himself conflicted just listening to you.

He wants to walk in, comfort you, somehow make that expression on your face disappear. At the same time, he knows that nothing he can do will help, it will only make things worse.

So he stands, frozen, unsure of what to do, unsure of how to respond, entranced by you and your voice. The way it rises and falls, the harmonies it creates, the way it makes the lyrics sound as though they are some other form of an angelic language.

At this moment, he can feel what you feel.

He can see what you see.

The two of you are connected through the world that you have created with your voice.

And he doesn't want to look away.

Unbeknownst to you, however, is that someone else is about to intrude on your connection.

Jungkook hums to himself as he walks down the empty hallway.

He’s just returning from a vocal lesson, and absentmindedly looks through the BigHit Instagram.

He smiles at ARMY comments and fanbases, always happy to see how the fans are doing.

However, as he turns a corner, he can hear a familiar sound.

The sound of someone manipulating their voice to fit the notes and keys on a score sheet. The sound of music being born through the vocal cords of one's voice. As soon as he hears the sound, he stops in his tracks, entranced by the sweet voice.

It's unlike any he's ever heard.

Soft yet loud, high yet low, holding vibrato, but not always there.

He quickly pockets his phone, turning the corner and finding one of the recording studio doors open. Trying his hardest not to make a sound, he rushes forward on light feet, stopping when he reaches the cracked door. Sure enough, this is the source of the voice, the sound of it clear and distinct.

He leans against the wall beside the crack and rests his head back, closing his eyes as he soaks in the sound of the voice.

What he doesn't know, however, is that the voice belongs to you.

In the back of his mind, as he listens to your voice for a longer period, he finds himself longing to know who it belongs to.

Half of him wants to burst into the room, catch you in the act, and confront you. However, another part of him, the much more sensible part, tells him that he has no right to do that.

Like Taehyung, he’s trapped in the sweet melody of your voice. He's fallen into the net and has become connected to it, to you.

The three of you stand there, unbeknownst of the other's presence, each one of you connected by a voice, and the sweet cacophony of music.

However, all things must end, and so does your song.

As your voice lilts to the closing notes of the song, the silence that follows is almost serene.

The three of you are frozen.

You recovering and on the verge of broken tears.

Jungkook left hanging on the resounding note.

Taehyung transfixed by the mere presence of you.

At the same time, they murmur three different words.

“Who are you?”

You take a deep breath after you finish, trying to gain your composure as you raise your shaky hands to your ears and remove the headphones.

You had no idea singing again would be so difficult.

You clear your throat as you stand, moving the stool to the side once more and gathering your belongings, a new song beginning to play.

You take out your earbuds and secure them in your ears before texting RM, notifying him that you have finished and are heading home.

As you turn to exit out of the door, Taehyung notices that you're about to leave and panics. He scrambles to gather his stuff, trying to catch you before you walk out once more, but the computer screen catches his eye.

There’s a new track there.

Crinkling his brow in confusion, he inserts the earbuds he was using to listen to Namjoon's new track back in his eardrums and plays the recording. There are about 10 minutes of dead silence so he skips ahead to where the sound picks up. His eyes widen as he recognizes the voice, and why wouldn't he?

He had heard it only a few moments ago.

After Taehyung closed out of Namjoon's track, he accidentally started a new recording, turning the microphone on before he fell asleep. So while you were singing, it kept the sample and saved it permanently.

Looking up, Tae watches you as you leave.

Groaning, he tears his eyes away from you, desperately tearing through the drawers for a flash drive. Finding one in the drawer beneath the soundboard, he inserts it into the computer, uploading the song to the USB. As it slowly begins to export, he bites his lip worriedly, watching you through the window as you absentmindedly wander down the hallway towards the exit.

“Come on…..come on!” he curses under his breath, watching the little green line fill the rectangular box.

On the other side of the glass, Jungkook bites his lip, trying to gain the courage to walk into the studio and try to meet you. Taking a deep breath, he bursts into the studio...

And is greeted with an empty studio.

As he looks around in confusion, he finds that the other door to the recording area is open. Putting two and two together, he can't help but feel disappointed, unable to see the one whose voice was able to penetrate his heart. He walks to the door almost forlornly, peering out into the empty hallway.

You're long gone, already on an elevator ride back down to the lobby.

As Jungkook peers down the left end of the hallway, Taehyung bursts out of the second entrance to the studio and darts down the right end. Startled by the commotion, Jungkook immediately turns around, just barely seeing the figure of Kim Taehyung rounding the corner before he’s gone.

“Taehyung…?” Jungkook murmurs under his breath, wondering what Tae possibly could have been doing in the studio.

Did he hear the voice?

Jungkook wants to follow him, find out what he knows.

But a greater part encourages him to step inside of the studio Tae had just exited from.

Taehyung left it in disarray, chasing after you. Drawers left open, the chairs scattered across the room, and the computer left on.

Jungkook rolls his eyes at Tae’s mess, moving to turn off the computer, but the track catches his eye.

Brain working fast, he realizes that this must be your song. Biting his bottom lip, he gives in to his desire and moves to the beginning of the track before playing it. Your voice invades his heart and mind, chasing every dark thought away. He smiles at the sound of it, somehow making him feel as though he’s not alone.

Not anymore.

Spying the flash drive drawer, he takes one. Almost on a whim, he inserts it and watches as it begins the uploading process. Pulling out his phone, he texts a quick message to BangPD, before pocketing it once more and receiving his prize. Pulling away from the computer, he hides your voice safely in a hidden file on the computer in case he loses his copy, before shutting it down. Turning away, he peers at the flash drive held between his fingers.

“I’m going to find you.” He murmurs, smiling a bit to himself with foreshadowed excitement.

“One day, I’ll hear you sing again.”

With that promise, he pockets the flash drive and hurries out of the studio, receiving a call from BangPD.

“Yes, sir.” He replies, his voice growing fainter and fainter as he walks further away from the studio.

“There’s something you need to hear.”

𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢: the tension is hiiiiiiiiiiigh

chapter 12 here

check the Infinite Stars masterlist for more chapters

check my BTS masterlist for other BTS content

check out my masterlist for other kpop fanfics

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rose-colored-amy · 3 years

Text

So, this is a continuation to my extremely short one-shot Last Moments, Last Regrets, but it can be read as a stand-alone. Regardless, I'll leave the link of that one in here:

Also, thanks to @coeurhh for suggesting I write a second part. You're a sweetheart 🥰

She made a lovely fanart/gif, which I'm also sharing, of course:

Prompt: AU. Sakura's death goes unnoticed to everyone but the squad she protected with her life and Tsunade. Team Kakashi doesn't find out until the very end, when Naruto and Sasuke have already had their fight, and there's nothing to do about it but mourn the absence.

Warning: Mild Sasusaku and lots of angst. Team 7 sort-of-fluff (?)

—Blue Bird, Let Go—

"Hey, bastard... I know they really let us down, the village, I mean."

"Aa... "

"But I really think it's not all that bad. When we were I team, I knew you understood. It felt like having a brother, believe it."

They were watching their lives go by, shadows of unknown faces passing by them, not noticing their pain, or not caring whatsoever. Their backs were touching, but it was all cold and bleak; a bad memory. A clan slaughtered, a demon sealed. Two lonely boys wallowing in their own sadness.

"Well, even if I don't make it, I'm glad it was you, bastard—"

"Shut up, idiot." His voice sounded strained, even for his standards, but Sasuke was so tired he couldn't even bring himself to care.

"We're really dying, ah? Wanna say something? I do have things to say, 'cause there's no way I'm dying—"

"In silence?" Sasuke interrupted, but Naruto payed him no mind.

"Without telling you how much of an asshole you've been! I couldn't even keep my promise to Sakura-chan! She's gonna be so damn mad when she finds out, I'm sure she'll drag me back to life just to cave my face in—" He was rambling at that point, but it was just so comforting and normal to Sasuke that he didn't even acknowledge it anymore.

"Hn. Sakura... She..."

"She still loves you, asshole. I don't have any idea how it can be possible but—"

"I'm sorry..." It sounded rushed, but Naruto heard it perfectly, and in the darkness of their shared consciousness, Sasuke heard a resigned sigh.

"Well, it's not that bad. I cannot imagine dying beside anyone but you, bastard."

"Idiot..." He made a pause. "Me neither."

"You're both a pair of idiots!"

Suddenly, the unreadable mass of unrecognizable faces around them cleared, and one figure stood in front of them, pink eyebrows frowned in annoyance. Though this version of Sakura looked familiar, it was one none of the boys had seen in a long time. Genin, long-haired, Sakura was glaring at them, arms crossed.

"Sakura-chan! What are you doing in here?!"

Her eyes softened. "What, so I'm supposed to let you two die, after everything? No way in hell!"

"Sakura..."

"You!" She pointed at Sasuke, who flinched slightly at her rudeness. "I don't know what the hell happened, but I don't care. Lighten up and start being your moody self. We love you just like that! Don't act so repented and shit! If you're sorry stop looking like a lost puppy and start doing something about it, you asshole!" Her voice was raising with madness and it was slightly off putting to see what used to be a stuttering lovestruck preteen talking to him like that.

Naruto snorted at that, obviously delighted for not being at the receiving end of her wrath for once. It was short-lived, however.

"And you!" She pointed at the blonde; then crossed her arms. He jumped back in fright. "What is this? How dare you even consider dying after you promised to be the best goddamned Hokage in history?! Here I am, rooting for you, while you lay around like a lazy pig with your edgy bro there. You should be ashamed of yourself!" She scoffed.

Naruto's mouth was so wide open he could have caught a fly. "Lazy pig? Are you kidding?!"

Sasuke raised an eyebrow, half amused, half annoyed. "Edgy?"

Suddenly, the edges of their vision began to blurr, like a genjutsu being unravelled. "Ah, someone came to help you at last." Sakura seemed relieved. Strangely so.

"Hey, Sakura-chan! You know what? You're right. I'll be the best damn Hokage ever, believe it! Just you watch!" He threw a punch to the air.

Seemingly placated and pleased with his answer, she nodded. "I know so." Then, she turned to her other teammate, who was concentrating solely on her face, mismatched eyes softened as they'll ever be. "And you'll make sure he doesn't mess up, right?"

They shared a long silence. There was something strange about Sakura aside her appearance. He could tell. "Hn. I will..."

"Hey! I don't need him watching over—"

"Sure you don't." He countered sarcastically.

"Also..." They turned to her again. "I'm sorry."

"Wha—" Naruto stuttered. "What the hell would you be sorry for, Sakura-chan?! If anything, it's the bastard here who should be apologizing to you!"

"Sakura..." Sasuke seemed to be searching for the right words, but she couldn't let them go without them listening to her. To what she needed them to know. There wasn't much time left after all.

"I'm sorry, because I wasn't what you needed..." She closed her eyes, her pretty minty orbs. Her appearance suddenly shifted, before then now standing her true self, still dressed in the standard shinobi uniform of the alliance. Her forehead protector lost to whoever knows where. "And thank you. You both made me stronger. You made me appreciate what I had. And I'll always, always love you. Our moments together like team seven... I'll treasure them for all eternity."

"Sakura-chan..."

"I know Konoha wasn't the best to you both, but don't forget the good... The wholesome moments. It's all that matters in the end... Our bonds, the bonds you managed to forge with sweat and blood... The world we live in, the world that gave me the chance to meet you. To me, that's to be cherished. Forever."

The white light started overwhelming the rest. Even Sakura's features started dissapearing.

"Live. Just live." For that, she specifically stared at Sasuke, a soft smile playing on her lips. "And thank you."

Sasuke started racing towards her, hand stretched, a forebonding understanding shaking his bones. "Sakura!"

And then, they both lost consciousness.

When they woke up, aside from feeling like shit, the first thing that crossed their minds what the finality of Sakura's words. Tsunade was beside them, patching them up, with Kakashi beside her, silently watching over them.

"About time, brats! What were you think—"

"Baa-san." Naruto interrupted her, his voice the most serious she had heard him until then.

"Where's Sakura?" Sasuke finished for him, his eyes icy and detached, trying to keep his worry at bay.

But she didn't need to answer. Her chakra flow hesitated, spiking with sorrow. Her eyes glistening with unbearable loss. Kakashi, at her side, stared, eyes widened in comprehension.

She was gone by a long shot.

And they were just finding out.

...

Everybody had different ways of dealing with loss. Naruto helped rebuild the village along with everyone else, but he skipped his usual meals, his ramen left forgotten in his kitchen counter. His movements when sparring were sloppy at best, not just because of the new prosthetic limb, but also because his mind was clearly somewhere else. Usually, Shikamaru would drag him out his makeship house, like he had done when Jiraija was gone for good. Sometimes, he would bring Ino with him, who was suspiciously skinny and messier than normal. No makeup covering the dark circles under her eyes.

Kakashi spent more than usual at the memorial stone every day, tracing the newly marked name of the girl who once remained him of Rin but that had come to claim a place for herself in his heart. Also, he took more missions than it was allowed in a month, going so far as to pick up his ANBU mask again, which caused an altercation with Tsunade, who hadn't been sober in a long time and had been hoping to hand the Hokage seat to him.

Sai avoided the color pink for a long time.

Sasuke... Well, he dealed with loss the same as everyone else... Longing for the missing person to be there, itching to have the opportunity to say what he couldn't at the time. Wanting to be alone whenever they would reach for him... And he built a tomb for her in hopes to find some closure. Not that official, because there wasn't a body to bury, and it had no name, but it was enough for him. He would bring with him camellias every day, buying them at the Yamanaka's, where Ino would always glance at him in silent understanding.

One morning, on his way to her tomb, he spotted a young shinobi leaving a white lilly for her. When he came by, the child spoke without a care, like they were acquaintances. "This is Sakura-san's, right?"

"Hn." It wasn't really an answer, but the child seemed to understand anyway.

"You know? Mama and big sister are also buried in these grounds... I always talk to them and tell them about my day and stuff I want them to know!" He turned to the Uchiha, a smirk on his cherubic face. "I'm sure she would appreciate it as well." And just like that, he left without another word.

Sasuke sat on the ground, just in front of the stone, mismatched eyes half lidded. Sensing no one in the vicinity, he exaled a shaky breath, and his dam opened up, the words longing to be said broke the silence he had been wrapping around himself since he knew of her death:

"I miss you... I've been missing you since I first left."

#naruto #sasusaku #team 7 #naruto uzumaki #kakashi hatake #sakura haruno #sasuke uchiha #tsunade senju #post war #fanfiction #sai #ino yamanaka #angst

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blysse-and-blunder · 3 years

Text

in lieu of a commonplace book

10:30 pm, sunday, nov 14, 2021

what's up gamers, it's been approx. two thousand years (actually a month) but i am alive, i am consuming media, and i am going to tell you about it under the cut. this is a long one!

reading please believe me when i say i had written out an extremely good and thoughtful take on mxtx's novel tiān guān cì fú (heaven official's blessing), specifically for you, @viciousmerlin, and that because i am somehow still very bad at this, i managed to delete the whole thing. very frustrating! anyway, loved it, took forever to finish it, the last quarter or so draaaagged which i do blame in part on the fact that it was being released serially at that part (and also that the slow burn had...slow burnt up to such a pitch by the cave of 1000 gods that any flashback or sideplot at that point was torturous); i know there was a whole secondary arc with some new characters and shit introduced but i have absolutely no memory of it apart from ruoye's incredibly sad backstory; still, we stan a plot that manages to introduce a rigid and completely impenetrable heavenly hierarchy and then deconstructs it, and there is at least one unwritten essay in me about face covering in this (masks! bandages! facial expressions that are or are not sincere! kisses?) and also probably ascent / descent/ leaping /falling/ flying/ leaps of faith and or love? we love to invert a rigid value system, xie lian actually is as worldly-wise and damaged as you think and it only made him kind but then, also, i did contract serious hua cheng brain rot after the whole 'teach him to roll dice properly' thing and it has yet to let up. the way xl just! starts trusting him with literally no reason and is never proven wrong! is very good to me, personally!

in my earlier draft of this post i listed a bunch of the things i was reading around the margins of trying to finish tgcf, and i will recreate it at a later date, but consider: i am tired.

watching finally gave the anya taylor joy emma a fair trial, having more or less forgiven it for not being the romola garai + johnny lee miller mini series. i will give atj this, she does a better job than i feared from all the promo material (wherein she only had a single facial expression-- in the film she has several!), but the best part of this film was a) the soundtrack b) bill fucking nighy c) miranda? the older i get, the more i feel for miss bates. i fucking loved elton and mrs. elton, they were absurd, i loved it. i knew i liked johnny flynn as a folk singer already, and thought he actually did a passable job as knightley, but they did him a disservice with the hair/sideburns combo, it covered most of his face and left his pouty lips as a weird focal point, which was distracting. there's an unwritten essay in me about the decision to associate certain scenes/classes with italianate / classical music, and others with trad music / raucous folk harmonies, without then having any real time spent around the classes who are implicated in those harmonies, but consider: i am tired.

also started watching succession and this Sure is a Show, but four episodes into s1 and i can usually pull the correct name for the correct roy- male and just want to watch sarah snook work. tom and greg are Way Too Much already but they are, individually and together, the kind of traffic accident you can't look away from. actually, i could apply that to roman too. the recny ball just happened, to give everyone context.

listening i've had the newest album by autoheart on infinite loop almost since it dropped a few weeks ago-- initially it wasn't doing a lot for me, not being punch (2013), but as i have listened more to the album as a whole, stuff has clicked. there are more bleeps and bloops, synths and bass lines, it almost hits an abba-esque place every once in a while, which of course means it slaps, and the lyricism and unexpected melodiousness (?) is all still there. the single i know that he loves me captures this pretty well:

youtube

(the religious trauma/gay devotion is certainly a big part of the video but also, if the 'he' in the lyrics is a certain ghost king who is there and gone but unquestioningly devoted, this becomes a hualian anthem and on this hill i will plant my flag) and that led me to consider the album more carefully. other stand-out tracks right now are:

into the woods (slow and easy tempo, shimmering sort of up-beat texture, the lyrics are Good but also Very Real, there's a repetition of 'i feel fine, i feel fine' which is a useful mantra lately)

perestroika (instrumental! incredible! cinematic! makes me feel like i'm standing on top of a mountain in a sunrise!)

time machine (the chorus is a good-sad that i don't necessarily relate to but don't not relate to, I forgive, you forget me, that's just how it has to be)

already gone (melodic! melancholy! i love the focus on little things about someone, the way the music itself builds. either a wangxian anthem or a hualian anthem depending on the hour, ugh the devotion is very much)

playing nothing really-- dnd resumes tomorrow!

making i need to...mend things and also put the garden/yard to bed for the winter and neither of those things is happening. i got halfway into the prep for a cooking project yesterday and just...put it on hold...when will my hands-on-project ability return from war...

working on spent much of the last month stressing about, and the majority of the last week actually drafting, the diss proposal which will ideally govern what i spend the next 2-5 years (please god more on the 2 side) of my life working on. so that's...a thing... i have also got a shitload of grading to still finalize, i did a first pass of my thoughts and then got so demoralized i had to fart around reading ridiculous fanfic for like 36-48 hours to recover. my eyeballs feel a bit scalded now but what can you do, just write in the comments section of an essay 'this is poorly written and it made me sad to read'?

#in lieu of a commonplace book #ilcb #wow i missed this it actually took very little time to write once i sat down and did it

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gyucore · 4 years

Text

in the orb

pairing: trapped soul! beomgyu x reader

tags: fluff, angst if you squint, reincarnation au, supernatural au

word count: 1.8k+

warnings: implications of death, light swearing

— you were cleaning your grandmother's attic when you stumble upon an old glass orb that just happened to talk on its own

A cloud of dust scatters around the room after you drop the glass orb on a particularly dusty couch. You've lost it. You've definitely lost it. You're quick to cover your face with your sleeve, fighting back the urge to sneeze. The orb sits still on the couch as it should, a sheet of gray still masking its surface.

This was supposed to be an average weekend. Your grandmother had invited you to her house for some quality time together during your break, and you thought you'd offer to help her clean her mess of an attic, to which she was more than happy to accept. And right now, the sweet old lady was tending to her garden downstairs while you were up here, freaking out.

It's said that people often imagined hearing strange noises when frightened and alone. And you were in a dark and creepy attic at an old person's house. This could just be another case of the common I'm-so-lonely-I'm-starting-to-hear-voices scenario. It's simply wasn't possible for a dusty old orb to start talking when you pick it up. It's just not.

“Hello?” You call out, immediately finding yourself silly for even attempting to communicate with an inanimate object.

The dust in the room eventually settles, and yet still no response. “See, Y/N? You were just hearing things.” That conclusion seemed convincing enough. You felt the need to give yourself a good pat on the shoulder for going along with the sane route.

With that dilemma out of the way, your attention couldn't help but wander back to the large piles of junk occupying nearly every space in the vicinity. One could only hope for your grandmother to clean regularly. “Right, now back to work.”

“What work?”

“Oh, you know. Cleaning.” You answer its question from earlier.

You freeze, eyes wide, a chill running down your spine. There it was again. You weren't sure if you heard it right this time or was just hallucinating, but there was one way to find out.

Silence. You almost called it a day after considering that you were probably just tired and needed some rest.

Half a step outside the door and the voice spoke once more. “Are you still there?”

You pause, brows raised, and back still turned. Somehow, you didn't know if it was safe to face the big ball of dust just yet. “What do you mean? Of course I'm still here. This is my Grandma's house.”

Thank the heavens for modern technology and the invention of smartphones. Speaking of which, you fish for yours in the depths of your pants’ pockets. The voice recorder app should come in handy during times like this. You know, to confirm you're not crazy. With the app on, all you needed to do was have the orb talk again.

“Grandma? Oh! Then you're her grandchild?!”

“Uh, yeah?” The orb apparently knew your grandmother. Strangely enough, that was the least odd tidbit of information you obtained today.

“Her grandchild.. Wow, to think I'm finally meeting you! Or at least your voice?” The orb lets out a giggle and the more you heard it talk, the more human it sounded.

“Sorry, can you excuse me for a minute?”

Never in your life had you thought the day would come where you'd be excusing yourself from a conversation with some sort of decorative object but life has its ways. You were never a stranger to off days anyway.

“Oh, sure, uh, go ahead? I can wait.” The orb swiftly replies. For a second, you could swear something was moving from inside the orb after the light outside the window had hit a clear spot in the crystal.

Heavy footsteps echoed in the room as you dash downstairs, taking your phone out and bringing it closer to your ear, replaying the recording. Sure enough, the voice was caught in the audio loud and clear.

“Holy shit. I'm not crazy.” An exasperated sigh leaves you as you slump back on the wall in disbelief. For a moment, you considered running away and warning your grandma about the cursed object, but part of you was curious enough to disregard the warning signs, and possibly risk your life by going back up there and approaching the thing. You decided to go with the latter.

“Are you back?” The orb asks once you've gotten close enough for it to hear your footsteps.

“Yeah. Just had to do something real quick.”

“I see.”

You wait for the orb to continue but it doesn't. It continues to lie on the couch lifelessly as if it hadn't been speaking to you in the past few minutes.

“Um..” You clear your throat, hoping to get another response

“Oh!" The voice from the orb seemed startled after hearing you talk. “How are you're still there?”

You frown. “Why wouldn't I be?”

“Well for starters, a talking glass orb isn't quite the public friendly concept you'd think it'd be.” It answers. Only now have you noticed that the orb had a particularly low masculine voice. “People don't usually stick around long enough to find out why I can talk in the first place.”

You blink. “Fair point. Though, I don't see the need for you to ask over and over again when I already said I was back.”

The orb chuckles. “You'd be surprised how many times people have reassured me of their presence only to leave halfway. Plus, I can't really see you right now to actually know you're there.”

“You can't see me?”

“The dust.”

“OH.” Not knowing what came over you, you immediately lunged forward and started wiping the orb with one of the dust rags you had lying around. It didn't take long for the thing to clear up and look like its old glorious self again. “How about now?” You ask, inspecting the orb as you hold it up.

“Better.”

It takes everything in you to resist dropping the orb on the floor when a glowing face of a man appears from the inside, smiling brightly at you. “I think I'm gonna pass out.”

The man visibly panics, pressing his face closer to the glass. “Wait no! If you pass out now, I won't have anyone to talk to! I haven't spoken to a single person in decades!”

“But you mentioned my grandma earlier, I thought you—”

“She could never hear me, but I could see and hear her.” The man explains, his voice a little quieter than before.

You bring the orb down, still cupping it in your hands. “How is this possible? Are you a ghost or something? How did you get in there?”

“Wouldn't you like to find out?” He winks, resting his head on his hand. “Take a seat and place me down somewhere soft.”

This seemed ridiculous by all means, but you oblige. The couch should be soft enough, and so you place him down gently while you take a seat on the floor, making yourself comfortable. “You were saying?”

“I—” The man accidentally bumps his head onto the glass as he leans forward, chuckling as he rubs his head gently. “Ow. Sorry. I'm just so happy to finally have someone to talk to. You can't imagine how long it's been. How the world survived without a single soul hearing my heavenly voice for all those years is beyond me.” He cracks a joke and you couldn't help but laugh.

“It's okay.” You say, shifting in your spot. “Go ahead.”

The man nods, the smile slowly fading from his face. “My name is Choi Beomgyu. You can call me whatever you like. I had a friend once, and she was a witch. Oh— not the kind that you hear from stories, no. She was really nice and cared a lot about nature, her friends, and her family. That type of person, you know?”

You nod along, assuring him that you were listening, and he smiles again.

There's just something about his smile that just seemed so happy and endearing. Perhaps it had truly been so long.

“She was this ball of sunshine. And back then I was a pretty different guy. Our personalities might've clashed and we butted heads a few times but somehow we ended up becoming close friends.” A faint smile graces his lips before disappearing as quickly as it came. “But then I got involved with the wrong crowd.”

The statement piques your interest and you draw closer. Beomgyu notices this and tries to talk louder.

“Remember how I said she was a witch unlike the ones in the fairy tales? Well, there were also people who were exactly like those witches. The ones that used their knowledge and abilities for their own nefarious purposes.” Beomgyu continues, his hair slightly covering his face as he looked down. “Let's just say that I got myself in a situation where they ended up hunting me down for my soul.”

“What?”

He frowns. “My friend saw me being chased down the streets one night and helped. We both knew that even when together, we were too weak to go against all of them. They had us cornered in her home, and that's when we knew it was the end for us.”

Beomgyu's voice started to waver as he spoke and you were about to ask him if he was alright, and tell him that it was okay if he didn't continue but the look on his face when your eyes met was enough to tell you that he needed to do this. He must've wanted to talk about this matter for so long, you think.

“She.. pushed me towards her workroom, telling me that she'll keep me safe no matter what. I didn't know what she meant until she cast a spell on me and I passed out. The last thing I heard were her screams. I never found out what happened to her after that, and I can only assume the worst.” He shakes his head, trying to getting himself together in front of his new friend. “Next thing I knew, I was inside her old glass orb. I've been trapped in this thing for years with no escape. No one to talk to— forever regretting how I didn't stop her that time, and regretting getting in the way of those witches in the first place.”

His story nearly brings you to tears, and before you knew it, your hands were reaching out for the orb. “Beomgyu, I..”

“It's alright.” Beomgyu smiles. “In the end, the orb ended up in her younger sister's possessions.”

Your eyes widen. “You mean.. Grandma?”

“That's right.” Beomgyu chuckles. “Though she had never able to see or hear me, unlike you.”

“Oh. That's uh, too bad.” You smile awkwardly, releasing the orb. The two of you sit in silence for a while, both needing a little mental break after that.

Shortly, your attention was brought forth back onto the orb when you hear Beomgyu laugh. You find yourself chuckling along. “Entertained are we, Gyu?”

The laughter stops and his eyes shoot up at you. You hear him mumbling something incoherent before hesitating to speak. “No, no.” Beomgyu shakes his head. “It's just.. It's kinda funny. I'm trapped here repenting for my whole life because of what I've done to her, or thinking about what I could've done.. but you know what? To be completely honest, I was starting to forget what she even looked like. But looking at you now, and hearing your voice..”

The idea popped up in your head and you weren't sure if it was even possible to begin with. But then again, you were talking to a soul inside an orb.

“You were easily granted access to the true nature of the orb, and are the first person to have ever done that without running away.” He kids. “Could it be?”

“I wouldn't count on it.” You tell it to him straight, getting up from your spot on the floor and dusting off your jeans. You knew what he was implying and there was no way that you were even considering yourself to be your great aunt's reincarnation no matter how ridiculous the situation already was. “I'll get back to cleaning. Feel free to talk while I do that.” You tell him before rushing to the other side of the attic, avoiding his gaze as much as possible. You'll figure out what to do with him later.

Beomgyu watches you fondly. You had told him to not even count on the thought of you being the one he's been hoping for all these years but it was too late for that now.

“Entertained are we, Gyu?” Her voice rings in his mind, and he shakes it off.

“How do you always manage to do such amazing things? I'd appreciate it if you'd stop stirring my heart.” Beomgyu's gaze rests upon your busy silhouette, and he smiles in content.

“It's nice meeting you again, Y/N.”

#txt #txt fic #txt imagines #txt x reader #txt fics #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu imagine #beomgyu fic #beomgyu scenarios #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu fluff #beomgyu angst #txt au #txt reincarnation au

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parkerpeter24 · 4 years

Text

best friends or more (part-3)

Pairing ➳ peter parker x reader

Warnings ➳ angst, fluff, feelings..?

Word count ➳ 2088 (I know, I know.)

Italics ➳ flashback

So, this is for @angelinathebook’s writing challenge and I hope you guys enjoy it even thought it’s crap. ❤

Series masterlist | Main masterlist

Peter couldn’t feel his legs anymore. For the past fifteen minutes, he had been chasing these smugglers who were selling illegal, alien weapons to the some robbers and thieves. He didn’t know much about it, but he knew that it was wrong and that he had to stop them because it was his responsibility.

He hadn’t picked up his phone in the middle of all the running and chasing making you and Ned all worried for him. After the third time, your call went to his voicemail, you sighed and slammed your phone into the kitchen counter.

“(Y/n), don’t worry, he’ll be okay,” Ned whispered in reassurance. You nodded your head, not sure if you believed him or not.

Peter had been careless, reckless and sometimes even stupid when it came to the lives of the people of his city, but he was never careless enough to leave like this without telling you, or anyone else.

You already disapproved of this “Spider-man plan” of the two boys. It was bad enough as it is that you were at this party and now that Peter had left, you found interest in MJ’s political views and her comments about some of her favourite books.

You spent some time with Liz and Betty, not really paying attention to whatever they were talking about. Almost an hour later when Peter still hadn’t returned, Flash started to make fun of him in front of all the people.

“Don’t forget to call me if he calls you.” Ned was leaving the party because the plan had gone downhill and now most of your class thought of you three as a loser, which they probably did before as well, so, whatever.

“That’s the first thing I’ll do.” You smiled thankfully as he walked back towards the streets that led to his house. It was way too early for you to want to go back home, plus you were enjoying the conversation with MJ so you went back inside.

Peter, on the other hand, wanted to prove that he could be trusted with new missions and dangerous situations when it came to the safety of the little guys. He sighed, tracing the path through which he chased the bad men. Suddenly his foot bumped with something, it wasn’t a rock. It was smoother, and it was glowing.

Peter picked it up and examined it, he had never seen anything like this. It was a purple coloured gem-like material and he could almost hear a soft buzz coming from it.

He tried to listen carefully, bringing his ear closer to the thing but before he could hear anything, a sharp tune, his ringtone, went off.

He looked at his phone to find out that Ned was calling him, “Hey, Ned. I’m on my way back to the party.”

“Where the hell have you been?” You crossed your arms over your chest staring into the eyes of none other than the masked hero of Queens.

“I was a little busy stopping a grand theft--”

“Of what, a bicycle?” You interrupted him with a question, raising an eyebrow at him as he landed fully on the fire escape.

“Whatever” Rolling his eyes, he stood beside you and wrapped an arm around your waist. You felt a little tingly where his arm rested but dare you to remove it, “I was looking forward to this.”

“You sure you won’t drop me on the way?” You hesitated for a moment, looking down at the distance between you and ground and what impact a fall from this high could cause.

“Well, it is my first time taking a person along on a swing purposefully.”

“What?!” Your eyes grew wide and you looked at his mask, scoffing, “I’m not going with you now!”

He laughed a little, making his grip a little firmer around your waist, “Come on! You gotta trust me.”

You shrugged, “How does It feel? Swinging around from building to building.”

“It’s kinda like Tarzan, only without the trees” He laughed.

Peter had heard much from Ned about what happened at that stupid party and his first instinct was to see if you were okay. But instead of calling you, he swung towards Liz’s house as fast as he possibly could.

You had left the house, politely denying MJ’s offer to drop you home but now that you were walking all alone in the streets of Queens, let me rephrase that, the dark, lonely and chilly streets of Queens you wished you had accepted that offer.

Hands clenched around your coat, you walked in the deadly silence. It was like the people had suddenly disappeared. Maybe you were exaggerating, but being there, at that moment, it scared you to your very soul.

There was something about Queens, something so eerily adaptive that made you rooted in the town. Peter too was one of the main reasons. He made you happy and you would stay forever if he wanted you to.

While you were lost in your thoughts someone tapped your shoulder making you flinch and turn around.

Peter gave you that cheeky smile, “Hello! I just saw you from afar and,” he pointed a thumb behind him and said before you could put words to your questioning thoughts, “You look stunning!” You laughed, looking away to hide the fact that you were blushing, “Care if I join you?”

“Please do.” You nodded, walking further. He walked beside you as silence settled between the two of you before you decided to ask, “What happened to you? You never showed up to the party as Spider-man…”

He casually shrugged it off like it was no big deal and gave you a tight-lipped smile before saying, “I-I just couldn’t do it.” You smiled at your friend giving him a pat on the back.

“Well, I’m proud of you for trying.”

The weekend passed in a blink and it was time to face school again. You made your way towards your lockers first thing, but you couldn't find Peter waiting for you like he usually did if he came in early. You didn’t mind it though, moving for your first class of the day.

The first time you saw Peter that day was in Mr Turner’s class. He was hitting something kept on the table and soon Ned joined him. That day he hadn’t even acknowledged you standing in the far right corner near the window.

There were no signs of Peter and Ned at lunch as well but you were glad to be accompanied by MJ. But what you were not glad to know of was that Peter wasn’t going to DC this year for Decathlon.

You knew exactly why he did that, but it would’ve been nice if he just told you about it.

You left the school canteen earlier than usual because you weren’t feeling that hungry today and made your way towards the library but you were stopped in the way, seeing Peter and Ned hiding behind the lockers.

You were so confused as to what was going on. Peter left Ned alone as you watched him disappear behind the corner that led to the storage room. He ran back to Ned after some time and they started whispering something to each other. What kind of conspiracy was going on without you?!

Finally, you got the chance to confront him after school as he stood beside the gates, “I heard you’ve left Decathlon?”

He turned around with wide eyes, “Oh, uh- I just, it’s because of the--”

“I know why! But why didn’t you tell me earlier? I had to find out from MJ!” You complained. Peter squinted his eyes on you.

“W-why are you acting like that?”

“Acting like what? I just want to know what is up with you!” Usually, you wouldn’t raise your voice at him but it seemed like he was distracted. He wasn’t even looking at you, just staring in any random direction.

“Look, (Y/n), I-I gotta go. We can talk about this later?” He uttered, not even waiting for your reply, and ran off.

You huffed. Was there something still left to talk about?

---

Peter was really happy to see you at his doorstep. He was looking for a chance to apologize to you anyway and now that you were here he invited you in gently rubbing the back of his neck.

It was 12 a.m. but it wasn't unusual for both of you to see each other at such a late hour. You always kept your window open for him and he was always ready to answer the door and welcome you with open arms.

but the expression on your face, that he caught as soon as the lights turned on, said that you were not happy or even sad. It seemed as if you were still mad. And you were! The question started nagging you and you needed answers.

Why didn't he tell you that he liked Liz, or about that glowy thing, or even about quitting decathlon? He was hiding something from you and you didn't like it. You felt like he couldn't trust you with his secrets anymore.

There was never any place for secrets between the two of you. There never had been. You told him everything but now was different. He was definitely hiding something from you.

You made your way inside his apartment, “What is it that you’re not telling me?”

“What?” He asked, genuinely confused.

Peter was just trying to protect you from the crazy things going on in his life, but he never considered that he would hurt you in doing so.

“You are hiding something from me! What is it?” You demanded, crossing your arms over your chest. Peter shrugged, going to sit at the edge of the couch.

“I’m not hiding anything from you.” You scoffed loudly hearing that response from him.

“Oh, really?” It made you so mad that Peter, not only your crush but your best friend, didn’t trust you enough. You just felt left out, “Pete, I feel like we’re not even friends anymore! You’ve been acting so different since that party.” You cried, throwing your hands in the air, “I saw you in the hallway today, hiding behind the lockers with Ned. Seriously, what are you hiding?!”

Peter stared at you with frowned eyebrows, “But (Y/n), I told you already that I’m not hiding anything.”

“Then tell me what happened on the night of Liz’s party. Why didn’t you show up?”

He sighed, accepting the fact that it was impossible to hide something from you. He made you sit on the couch as he explained what went down that night and that he was hiding behind the lockers from the bad guys. He told you how he found the glowy thing and that he was trying to find out what exactly it was.

You were shocked, to say the least, and angry. How could he be so careless, “Oh god, Peter you’re so stupid!” You said as tears pooled in your eyes, “You could’ve been killed!”

“I know that!” He huffed out somewhat frustrated, “I just wanted to prove that I’m worth more than what Mr Stark thinks. He just keeps treating me like some kid who has no idea what he’s up to, but (Y/n), I know what I’m doing okay? I have it all planned out!” His voice quivered as he let out the last sentence. You felt your heart clench at the sight of him. You loved Peter, maybe a little too much, and you wanted to tell him that he didn’t need to prove his worth to anyone. And that’s exactly what you did.

You walked over to where he was standing with his arms crossed over his chest and placed your hands on either side of his face. You looked deep into his brown, familiar eyes, “Hey, you’re worth everything, okay?” You smiled through the tears, “And you don’t need to prove it to anyone”

He looked at you and whispered with a soft smile, “Thank you.”

“Don’t get used to it though.” You chuckled softly, wiping the tears from his cheek. “It was stupid what you did back on Friday night.”

“I know. Totally stupid.”

You both laughed awkwardly looking into each other’s eyes when you realised that your hands were still firm on his cheek and the proximity between you has increased at an alarming rate.

And the next thing you know, his lips were on yours.

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owlsbride · 3 years

Text

Icha Icha and Prejudice: The Book Club

Chapter V: A Suitable Marriage

"So…" Sakura answered, arriving at an obvious conclusion observing her cup of sake "now you have to go all way to Suna to solve Naruto's mess."

"Yes," Kakashi nodded, looking at the empty space behind her "I'm not exactly thrilled about it, but it's my job after all." He concluded finally directing his gaze to Sakura to look at her big furious green eyes. He suppressed an inner smile.

"But why? Why don't you send Naruto back again? He was the one that asked the Kazekage an extra train program to be a better Hokage" Sakura started annoyed "And Gaara accepted. What was he thinking? Besides, they both made this mess together."

It was infuriating. Gaara, the most collect man she has ever known, all so stoic, silently analyzing everything around him with his sharp mind. Separated from the world, absorbed in his thoughts with his celestial eyes always directed to the horizon, protecting his village. She couldn't understand it.

"Maa, Sa Ku Ra, calm down" Kakashi spoke with his soft tone, guessing what was going on inside her mind "Gaara may be the Kazekage, and a great one, by the way, a fine young man, but inside he's still a child. I think he's still trying to figure out what human relationships are all about, and when being too friendly or solicitous is too much. I guess he couldn't say no to a friend." There was so much tenderness in his words that Sakura sighed leaning back in her chair a little less angry.

"God, he's worst than Sai." Sakura agreed finally most to herself than to Kakashi thinking about the problems that the young man with black hair suffered and caused due to his lack of social empathy.

"Trust me Sakura, if I were to choose between them both..." Kakashi left the phrase hanging. He was not mad at the Kazekage nor Naruto, he was just tired and resigned with the last one. Naruto would never really change.

"Still..." Sakura began again "I don't know why you can not solve this problem from here. Was it that bad?

"You couldn't just start to imagine."

"But this weather..." She was less angry but pushier now.

"If I didn't know you better, I would think you don't want to let me go, Sakura" he spoke in such a suggestive way that Sakura trembled under his gaze "but I'm sure is not the case, right?"

"Of course not Hokage Sama" she was blushing, a lot "I'm just worried about the security of our leader." Sakura finally answered, wrinkling her nose. Kakashi laughed at her face.

"Relax Sakura, I'm not just an old useless politician".

"I guess you are right... you are not a politician" Sakura said, sticking out her tone.

"Careful Sa Ku Ra, the cat may eat your tongue someday" Kakashi answered her with a deep dark tone licking his own lips, or at least that's what she believed. Again the warm feeling forming in her low stomach, now she was sure, it was not her chakra.

"Yeah... anyway..." she tried to hide her excitement and shame at once adopting a much more professional stance, "I think I should go with you." She finished crossing her arms on the table.

"And that could be because...?" Kakashi leaned back on his chair taking distance from Sakura, eyeing her suspiciously, he had seen this coming. He knew that Sakura was going to ask her to go with him.

"I think it's pretty obvious Sensei." He hated the honorifics, but he just stopped fighting it a long ago with Sakura. It was just a mannerism, a way of speaking, not particularly a sign of respect or distance. It was merely their ways, and it was ok, strange and alluring at times, but ok.

"Go on..."

"I believe that the company of a nin doctor in this weird mission of yours, trying to recover Suna from the Tsunami named Naruto, could be of much help." She finished matter of factly.

"For what? a heatstroke?" Kakashi wasn't going to fall in her charms.

"Stop mocking me, Sensei" Sakura pouted. Now she was feeling hurt.

"I'm not mocking you." He smiled. She was cute sometimes. "I'm just saying that there are no risks in my short journey to Suna. It's a safe trip. Only three days and I'll be back; besides, you forget something."

"What?" Sakura asked in confusion

"You are on vacations."

"Yes, a vacation I didn't request for." It was evident that she still felt horrible about that decision.

"And yet, here we are. Having dinner in your second night of" Kakashi said raising his cup, even if he was not going to drink it with Sakura watching straight to his face.

"I guess..." Sakura did drink her sake and started again with all the Suna issue "So, you are going alone? Who is going to be encharged during these days?"

"I asked an old friend to help me here. Luckily she said yes. Having you not accepting the recess and Naruto trying to put his last training in practice is too much of a danger to leave the village alone. And no, I'm not travelling by myself" Kakashi gave her a wink.

"Hey! I'm not that bad. I'm not going to break the rules Hokage Sama". Sakura was starting to feel offended. She was not a girl anymore. He had to stop seeing her like one "I'm not a gir..."

"A girl. You are not a girl anymore." Kakashi finished for her "I'm well aware of that". Eyes darker.

"So, Who is this friend of yours and with who are you travelling with?" Sakura asked incredulously. She didn't know Kakashi had friends except for Guy Sensei and Genma, (who were definitely not suitable for cover him in these three days) less a woman. Why was she a bit jealous, and why was Kakashi noticing it? He laughed a true-hearted laugh.

"Easy Sakura, Lady Tsunade is going to take my place these days, I think she is more than capable, don't you agree? He was genuinely asking her opinion.

"Wow!" Sakura said in surprise "She must really love you like to say yes."

"Doesn't everyone love me? He was such a Drama Queen. "And about the travelling arrangements, I'm going with Shikamaru."

"Well..." Sakura pondered "Shikamaru is really capable, and he is your advisor. I think he is the most suitable for the job." Sakura concluded.

"Yes," Kakashi stated. "though, I think he has his personal agenda on this journey."

"Oh... You mean..." Sakura didn't want to talk more words than necessary. She didn't know how much information Kakashi had about Temari and Shikamaru's relationship.

"Of course Sakura," Kakashi spoke as it was the most obvious thing in the world "The princess."

"So you know..." It was not a question.

"Sakura, I'm not the Hokage for nothing, you know?" There was fun in his voice. "I've seen how they look at each other, I've listened when they talk at the phone. I've been there when they fight together side by side at the Fourth War. It was just a matter of time." He finished almost with longing.

"Like us" Sakura whispered to herself not expecting Kakashi to listen.

"Like us, what? His eyes were gleaming. Sakura felt nervous.

"Just..." she had to think quickly. "Just like the rest of us, you noted the romance coming back then too." That was closed. Kakashi shifted his mouth uncomfortably under his mask, wrinkling his nose. He wasn't buying it.

"Yes." Disappointment in his words. "Anyway... I think a wedding is coming soon and it will become most profitable for both villages. Suna and Konoha united forever. Shikamaru and princess Temari, we couldn't ask for more." Kakashi spoked low.

A cold chill ran down Sakura's spine upon hearing Kakashi's words. It was the Hokage who spoke: cold, distant, calculating. She wasn't sure if she liked this version of Kakashi. Yes, she has witnessed terrible decisions that he had to make as the village leader, she had seen the horrors of the war and what makes people do. But why this bothered her so much? Was it because she had lost sight of the fact that he was the Hokage after all and not just his partner, friend, and secret fantasy? Was she so in love that, now, only one sentence about the convenience of marriage was enough to make all the bandages fall off?

Kakashi hadn't actually said anything about fixing a marriage, but that's what it sounded like, and inside her, it seemed painful.

"What's wrong, Sakura?" Kakashi asked full of worry. He had just realized after his lazy conversation that something had bothered Sakura.

"Is that how you see us?" Sakura began without looking at him "only as exchange goods, potential political deals or war unions thanks to a good marriage and the lineage that can come out of it?"

"I'm sorry, Sakura, but I can't see the problem there" Kakashi answered in all honesty.

"Sure..." Sakura said dryly in a mocking tone "then maybe I can go for the Kazekage. What do you think? I'm sure that is highly beneficial".

Kakashi was confused, but he was not going to recoil.

"Well, Sakura, good luck with that, cause I don't think Gaara is into girls..." He started doubting "Actually, I think he is into nothing at all, but that's your choice." Why was he getting angry? "Now, if instead, you would like to set your eyes on the brother, Kankuro, that could be something entirely different."

"You can start making the arrangements then, and as Hokage, you can walk me down the aisle." Sakura suppressed a tear.

"That would be your father´s job. I may be old, but that´s not my place" Kakashi retorted angrily, but without racing his voice.

"My parents lost faith in me long ago, I don´t think they are interested in my wedding, they think I´m already too old for that" She was sad, resigned. They have stopped talking to her when she refused to marry Sasuke, another suitable arrangement.

"What the hell are you talking about? I'm not one of those characters of that stupid book of yours, Lizzie."

Sakura looked down, suddenly she was feeling a bit ashamed. She avoided his eyes at all cost, and she was safe by the waitress announcing that the restaurant was closing. Kakashi paid the bill without saying anything, and they both started walking home, strangely taking the same path.

Sakura was the first in breaking the silence.

"You are reading the book, eh?"

"Hmmm" Kakashi hummed as the only answer.

"Already bored?" She was watching at the stars.

"Actually no" Kakashi began "Even if I don't know yet what to think about it, debating my self between if it is a good manner manual or a statement of the women position in the society, I have to recognize it's quite interesting."

"You haven't read enough yet" Sakura was acting childish. How was it possible that he still didn't realize that the book was actually an ode to true love.

"I supposed." He closed the conversation.

They continue walking a few more blocks before arriving at Sakura's door. Finally, they face each other.

"Sakura, listen" Kakashi needed to clear some things before parting to Suna "What I meant earlier" he swallowed hard "I would never jeopardize the happiness of any of you for the good of the village. You are my priority. The marriage between Shikamaru and Temari is indeed a benefit to Konoha, but that does not mean that I'm directing your lives from a desk. All of you already risk enough every day out there. I would not take love out of your hands."

Sakura nodded with her mouth dry, she needed a drink, a strong one. She finally locked eyes with him and smile much more relaxed.

"Are you going to send me a text as soon as you arrived Suna?" Sakura asked in a happy tone.

"Of course" he simply answered, hands in his pocket.

"And are you going to send my regards to the Kazekage and his brother?" Now she was teasing.

"If that's what you wish..." Kakashi left the phrase got lost in the air. The storm menacing again once more the Konoha's sky.

Sakura laughed heartedly.

"Good night Kakashi Sensei, have a good trip." Sakura said, turning her back to him.

She suddenly stood frozen with her keys trembling in her hands.

Warm breath sifted through the mask ran down her neck and the lobe of her ear. Kakashi hadn't gotten to touch a single hair of her, but all of it rose on her body. Her breath stopped for an instant that seemed like hours, his words tickling as he spoke.

"Have a good night you too, Lizzie." And just like that Kakashi disappeared.

Inner Sakura was going to be happy.

Notes:

So many things to say

1- It´s getting really really late here but I wanted to post it anyway

2- A little bit of tension is not that bad

3- Next chapter we may know, or not, what Naruto has done at Suna. Also, I´m pretty sure that the virtual chat is coming back.

4-Kakashi is making his homework after all.

5- I like the idea that Gaara may be a bit of asexual, though the story shows us different.

6- You Know what to do.

7- If there is anything else you would like to know, please write to me

8- Can somebody be so lovely and helpful and explain me how to link the chapters for making it easy to read? I'm almost as stupid as Kakashi with tech

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hollycreadisserda · 3 years

Text

cozy days

happy valentines day!

i drew my babies holly and acke:)

speedpaint: https://youtu.be/Ue1DgRwpJ0w

also i wrote a story based on this drawing!

if you want to read it, click read more or read it on wattpad here: https://www.wattpad.com/story/258769207-cozy-days ♥

Since we started living together in our small house, Acke always made sure that I wake up in good humor every day. He promised me that he would help me beat all my demons. Whenever I had a worse day, he was there to comfort me. He always made sure I felt better. This morning I didn't feel well. I was staring at the ceiling all night, couldn't close my eyes. I was scared. I didn't even know why. Sometimes you are scared without a solid reason, and surreal thoughts are covering your mind. When Acke asked me, what's wrong, I wasn't even able to speak. After a moment, he just shook his head and kissed my forehead. "Rest today, give yourself a day-off, my sweet blueberry pie." I nodded. Acke gave me a warm smile and gave me a few more smooches on my cheek. He always made sure that every minute I spent with him made me feel loved. And he was always succeeding. Either it was by kissing my neck when we were making out or just telling me that he is proud of me because I cleaned up the bathroom all by myself. I felt love and happiness in my life thanks to him. I've never realized how much I needed this in my life. He hugged me tightly and told me to try to take a nap. I took a deep breath and put my face on his chest. His heartbeat made me feel calmer. I didn't even know when I fell asleep. Though, when I woke up, he was already out. I wished he could stay, but people at our office were gossiping a lot whenever we both stayed at home. After all, I was still his boss and shouldn't give him days-off just because I am madly in love with him. Well, they were right, but sometimes I couldn't help my heart. I was usually forcing Acke to stay in bed with me, but he never really seemed to complain. It wasn't happening a lot anyway, just whenever it was really important. It was hard for me to get out of bed. During days like these, I wished to do nothing at all. I wanted to lay in my cozy bed as long as Acke would be at work. On the other hand, I didn't want to waste my entire day. I knew it would also make Acke worry a lot. Apparently, not having the energy to go out of the bed wasn't normal. I was still new to the whole "self-care" thing and never really felt like doing things for myself, so for now, doing things for him was good enough for me. I texted him that I got up. He almost immediately replied that he is proud and that he loves me. I was thankful for him. I took my notebook. I wanted to plan this day and spend it productive so he can be proud of me again. I smiled. I could imagine how he smiles when he hears that I planned the whole day by myself. I was feeling butterflies in my stomach again. I took a warm shower, used the best shower creams, used conditioner on my hair, and put a lot of moisture on my skin. I even used some products for my face. I didn't have significant problems with my skin, but it just felt nice to wear all these masks. I felt like in a spa. I looked at the mirror. I still didn't like what I see. My lips were shaking whenever I tried to smile to myself. It felt so hard. I remembered what Acke was telling me. "You need to look beautiful for yourself, not for me. I already know you are the prettiest woman that ever existed. It's time for you to acknowledge that." Yet, I couldn't believe it. It felt like someone was telling me that the color black is white. It just felt surreal. I opened my mouth to say that I love myself, that I love every part of my body, every scar, each finger, and a strand of hair. I bit my lip and closed my eyes. Not today. I wasn't ready yet. But I will be one day.

I got dressed in my casual but still comfortable clothes. Sometimes I didn't have the energy to even wore anything besides my pajamas but, I wanted to fight this urge every day. And I was getting better. Things that felt like a challenge months ago were easier now. I was slowly taking steps in my healing. Every time I did it, I was proud of myself. Then I was writing it to my sisters and Acke so they can also be proud. I was so happy they were by my side. I finally didn't feel alone. I didn't know that sometimes you simply need to tell people how you feel. It felt so abstract to me. I was scared that they wouldn't understand my words and feelings and that I am just a psycho. But they understood every word I said. They helped me find peace in myself. It's still hard for me to believe in myself, but at least I have people who do. *** I loved cooking for Acke. Acke couldn't prepare food at all. He often forgot about either adding important ingredients or about turning off the oven. Once, he wanted to do a surprise date for me. He was preparing one of the Anyposian traditional dishes, which are not that easy to cook. It ended up cleaning up the whole kitchen and ordering food from the restaurant. Though, thanks to that, he always enjoyed my food. He never complained, even if I added a little too much salt. If I wasn't proud of my food, he told me that he would probably burn it already. Whatever I did was tasty for him anyway. I wanted to bake a cake. I rarely baked anything. We were usually just buying sweets whenever we wanted to eat something sweet. But today, I had an opportunity to surprise him. I never really was in love before I started dating Acke. I didn't know how it is. I couldn't understand why people love loving. It wasn't logical at all. Why would you do something that might not reward you? But love is not reserved for the brain but the heart. I acknowledge that the little sparkle in the eye of your loved ones is the reward. That little smirk after hearing your stupid joke is what you get. That was the best thing I could get. Him being happy. After I prepared the dinner, I started making a cake. I wanted to make it in time, so when Acke would finish eating dinner, I would put a plate of warm cake in front of him. However, he came back earlier. I looked at him. He seemed to be a little tired. "Hey, do you feel any better?" he said while unbuttoning his shirt. I nodded. It was weird for Acke to come back so soon. "I... I think I feel a little better." "What were you doing?" I described to him my whole day. I told him what book I read and what did I watch on TV. He always seemed to be interested. I was lucky to have such a good listener. "Well, if this book is that good, I need to read it too." He said and gave me a warm smile. I smiled back while mixing the dough. He held my cheeks and gave a kiss on my forehead. "So, why are you so early?" He looked at me and opened his mouths a little. It felt like he couldn't find words. I raised my eyebrow and put the bowl aside. We were staring at each other for a while. We were doing it pretty often. Either it was just for the sake of us admiring each other or us wanting to give another person space to think. He was stroking my cheeks with his thumbs. His fingers were a little shaky. "You know you are beautiful, right?" I didn't know how to reply. I know I am beautiful for you. I know I might be for everyone else. But not for me. I couldn't reply. I didn't want to lie. "I wanted to bake a cake as a surprise, but I guess it's not a surprise anymore..." It was a pain for me to avoid some topics. I hated playing stupid. It felt as if I didn't know what he was talking about. He took a deep breath and looked at the window. The last rays of sunshine were coming to our kitchen. Our neighbor's cat was observing kids who were playing. I sighed and put the dinner on the table.

"Holly...just..."

I looked at him. He came to me and hugged me tightly. I glared at him, a little confused, and hugged him back.

"So...why did you come back early?"

Acke put his face on my chest.

"I was scared that you will leave me."

His breath was shaky. Mine got a little, too.

"How could you even think that way, honey? I love you with all my mind, body, soul, and heart. I would hate myself for eternity if I left you."

He didn't reply. He just held me as if I were going to disappear. I put my hand on his head. I was stroking his dark, soft hair. I could feel his heart beating fast as if he just ran a marathon.

"I know I worry too much. But I can't lose you, too."

Losing people I loved was the worst thing I have ever experienced.

When I was a child, I thought losing is about someone disappearing from your life suddenly and forever. That death is the only way I can lose people I love.

Acke lost his whole family.

When he became a soul, his parents, brother, and sister forgot about his existence. He watched his siblings die, yet the worst pain he felt was that he couldn't talk to his parents again like a son would.

Acke wanted to tell them that he is in a relationship with me, that he is working, that he is doing good. But he couldn't. His parents forgot about his existence.

He would prefer to know that he can't meet them anymore. But he could.

I tried to encourage Acke to meet his parents, but he didn't even want to hear about it. I didn't want to argue with him about it, so I don't talk about this.

At least not that often. Because I still believe Acke's parents would understand. They were some of the loveliest people I ever encountered. They would welcome him with open arms. They would be as proud of him as he is of me.

"You need to understand that you need to think about yourself too."

He sighed.

During my 27-year-old life, I learned a lot. When we think about others too much, we might forget about our problems. I didn't care about what I truly feel for definitely too long. I was thinking only about revenge on Eysha. I fell into the trap of constantly thinking about other people instead of focusing on my problems. When I was forgetting about taking care of myself, Acke was here to remind me that it's time to think about what I feel and what I need instead of blindly seeking revenge the whole time

Acke was the most supportive person I could ever meet. However, he was also the first one to forget about himself.

I wasn't the greatest friend, most of the time, but now I wanted to change it. I wanted not only to learn how to take care of myself. I wanted to know how to take care of other people.

"I want to stay quiet with you today."

I didn't bake the cake after all.

For the rest of the day, we sat on the couch and listened to his favorite music. We didn't talk. Acke just needed me, not my words.

He cried.

I was thankful that I have Acke. That he wasn't scared to show me who he truly is.

I loved spending with him all those cozy days.

thank you for reading what i wrote:) its my first time actually posting my writing so im kinda nervous haha

tell me if you liked it ♥ have a good day

#art #story #writing #romance #artists on tumblr #writers on tumblr #shipp #digital art #love story #valentines #love #soft #cozy #uwu #warm and cozy #couple

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sarcasm-loathing-blog · 5 years

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⋅⊱♊∂σทτ τrυsτ нєr ƒαcα∂є♊⊰⋅

⋅⊱♊qυєsτiσทiทg i∂єทτiτiєs♊⊰⋅

She stumbled in as another strong gust of wind pushed her into the building, the left double door caving in and flinging open, banging against the wall. The sudden slam echoed into the living room and empty space, causing her to grimace and scramble to close the door. So much for stealthy.

The chilling sounds of an oh so familiar cartoon reached her ears. She averted her gaze to a nearby wall as she shut and locked the door behind her, feeling the harsh breeze rattling the doorknob as she did so. She could hear the show, but at the same time she could somehow still see the up and down jerky mouth movements of the ship on the screen, that horrible horrible laugh. She had a bad rep with the show, having watched one episode as a kid, that kind of cut cable from her family forever. It was just a fucking show, but dear god it was sickening, especially the character, the skin taker. His mouth movements weren't particularly pleasing, he grinded his teeth left to right instead of the normal way a puppet should, up and down.

After her silent and short lived panic cooled down, she brushed herself off like something had stuck to her whilst she had made her way to the mansion, that wasn't the case, every hair was in place, not a single thing had ruined her appearance, because she was perfect. She strived to be the embodiment of perfection.

Ever so casually, she heaved the heavy backpack off of her shoulders before slinging it onto one of the rings of the sturdy coat rack, testing the stability before letting go and turning her head towards the three or so figures hanging on the couch, watching-that show. It should be static to her by now, right? Right?

She narrowed her eyes at the characters, trying to identify them with what little light shed onto their figures from the soft luminescent glow of the screen, then-it clicked. Sideburns, Ashy, and Goggles McGhee. Three of whom she didn't exactly interact with-well, what do you expect, with the higharchy of this damned mansion, you would be a fool to even glance at the musketeers with what authority they had. She began to back away, her clammy hands folding together as a possible comfort technique.

They all seemed fixated on the small retro TV, she often wondered how the hell they got cable and electricity all the way out here, she's made a theory that there was some sort of electrical system only for pastas or something, but its an extremely weak theory. She rolled her eyes and silently scoffed, uninterested in the activity. Its safe to say she hasn't watched TV in a while, 5 years at best, considering her RV just barely has electricity, she doesn't need a TV-well, she wish she had one, sort of.

Sideburns, or Masky, to others, sat with him. It would be foolish to address a proxy as an equal, she had a silent respect for them both, strong powerful beings whom don't have to slave away with a broom every day. They're living the life-well, not exactly. She was one who was allowed to remember her past life, give or take she had succumbed to the fact she had no hope of returning to it in the future.

Suddenly, as quick as a crack of lightening, Ashy turned his head away from the screen, the black endless orbs of the mask peering into the darkness, she heard a deep inhale. What was it doing? She deemed him it for just a moment, his movements so animalistic you could actually feel the wild like aura he held. Oh god, his gaze had directed om her. He made a movement with his hand, seeming to slap Sideburns on the shoulder with the back of his hand, causing Sideburns to startle a bit before glancing back over his shoulder. Well, this is-she didn't know what to call it. Disturbing? Unnerving? She didn't like the position she was in, then-Ashy began to rise from the couch, he began to speak-there was a raspy undertone in his voice, like he doesn't use it a lot, something seemed to creep from his words, something slimy and black with a bunch of tiny legs.

"Who are you."

It seemed more like a demand then a question, she flinched on instinct as she felt eyes almost immediately peer towards her in the darkness.

"Your dad, im back with cigs"

Ashy seemed to be narrowing his eyes-or lack of, definitely lack of, on her. She swollowed the hard forming lump in her throat as she tried to turtle into her clothes, seemingly phased by the cold glare that the being was somehow directing at her.

She froze in place, only then realizing that she was backing away, the heels of her boots scuffing the peeling yellowed hideously wallpapered wall behind her as she drew her arms to her chest, her head lowering to cover her neck in case the figure went for a punch to her throat. How does someone answer that?

"Hey, my name is Trinity, im the fucking maid who washes the skid marks from your undies, good luck holding a proper conversation with me because the only thing I want to talk about is how fucking horrible my job is, I hadn't had proper social interaction in, like 5 years!"

Yea, that would totally work, her hand slid into her coat, fingering the Browning high power 9 mm pistol that bounced at her hip. It gave her a raw sense of empowerment, like she was a ring leader, and Eyeless jack was a lion.

"My name is Trinity. I clean up around here, I usually do it at night, but I had something to do last night and never had to opportunity."

She was mildly impressed by the steady dull flat tone she used and how she was able to speak over a mumble. She didn't get to cocky yet, how would they believe her? Did she have to whip out her bottle of Windex and cleaning rags?

"That's a nice name."

Masky was a little unamused by the female. Sure, he may not of seen her before, but no, she doesn't faze him. He blinked slowly, then looked over at Jack. Look, it'll be pretty sad seeing this gremlin of a woman try and fail to fight this hulking figure, so he decided to give her a hand and take her word for it. Most creatures couldn't pass through the mushroom circle anyways.

His voice sounded deep, as though he hasn't slept for a couple of centuries, with a bit of a smokers cough. He didn't introduce himself, who cares for casualties? His gaze darted towards Goggles McGhee , instead of soaking the drama in, the male was leaning forward, fixated on the static covered screen as if it was the most engrossing morning cartoon he's ever watched. Sideburns rolled his eyes underneath the black opaque fabric covering the eyeholes of his mask before glancing back at the gorl.

She pursed her lips together, her eyebrows knitting in confusion as the words had rolled around in her mind, slowly peacing together into a sentence, a little lightbulb finally flicked on inside her mind as she nodded slowly. "Thank you-?" It seemed more like a question, its been a while since she actually-got a compliment, you know? Because she was the embodiment of loneliness.

Ashy, on the other hand, would need a bit more convincing. If he could, he would have already tackled her to the ground and ripped out her spine from her still squirming soon to be corpse, but something was nagging him in the back of his mind, something was telling him that maybe she was telling the truth. He ignored that tiny thought, his hand sliding into the grey worn and bleach stained hoodie he adorned before fingering the warm smooth metal of the blade. It felt alive, due to how his body tempature was keeping it warm.

"I smell bullcrap."

"It's probably your upper lip."

Her gaze adverted back to Ashy, a frown tugging on her lips as she cocked her head. "Well, im sorry to hear that, would you like me to elaborate?" She held a snarky comment on the back of her tongue, it pressed against her teeth, struggling to push out before she heard the soft thump of a stuffed toy hitting a step and the pats of tiny feet hitting the smooth floorboards of the second story hall. There was a flash of a dirty salmon color in the corner of her eye before it dissapeared, She couldn't keep one eye on jack and the other on the toy, so she kept her eyes on jack, but did address the toys presence for future reference.

Jack turned his head, listening in-a giggle erupted from the hallway, high pitched and playful. Sally. Ashy couldn't see Sally, also known as button eyes-but he could smell her. She always smelt of letting meat and sugar cookies. His defensive attitude kicked in as he gripped his scalpel in a vice-like grip, bristling like an angry cat at this point “I don’t know who you are, but you don’t belong here, if you worked here over night then I'd at least would have picked up your scent.” he growled, his heart rate picking up.

His chest hurt, the goop kept streaming from his sockets, he felt his headache lightly at the back of his skull as he rolled his shoulders.

"Well, if you were able to smell me, then you'd possibly be able to smell yourself and take a bath for once, news flash-you reek of death."

The words left her mouth before she could comprehend what was happening, she mentally struggled to shovel them back down her gaping maw before it was too late, a flash of regret misted her eyes, but it was true, even from here, she could smell the rotting flesh interlaced between with teeth and underneath his nails. This seemed to silently enrage him. "Look-you, do I need to prove it? This place would be a fucking dump without me." She jabbed her thumb into her chest, her eyes narrowed into an ice spiked glare, she was going all out with this.

She felt angry, frustrated, scared, etc.... Why the hell was she even having this argument in the first place? It was clear that this person was insignificant and unimportant-no, that's not true, that's definitely not true, they were important, they were strong, they could kill her.

Sideburns looked back and forth to who was talking. The conversation was going nowhere, the two only threw threats at one another whilst also trying to gain the upper ground, it was aggravating. He blinked hard, almost shed a tear, but he's extremely dehydrated. His tiredness was getting the best of him, which is a bad thing in this situation.

"Look, how about we let her go, besides, she cleans. I mean, it's like arguing with a janitor, you're not going anywhere if they speak Spanish."

She was tempted to gasp melodramatically, how dare he compare her to a janitor-but she didn't, she kept silent, ever so slowly closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose to suppress the oncoming headache. Dear lord, save her soul, she didn't ask for this, she didn't ask for this job, it just came to her. In all honesty, she wanted to crawl into a ball and dissapear into a black endless void, she was edgy like that-no, she actually wanted to be home. She wanted to be back at home before she had moved away from college, back with her mom and three brothers, as they danced in the bare widely spaced living room to music. Those were the good times, before she changed her hair and begun to wear eyeliner and smoke pot. Before she met all her horrible wreckless teenage friends, back when she was as free as a bird.

Ashy then, at the last moment, reconsidered before forcing himself to put his weaponry away back into the hoodie pocket it had previously resided in, such a shame he couldn’t use it today.

“If you make one wrong move or even lay a finger on Sally you won’t be so lucky...” he said with a snarl.

Jack turned his back to the woman with one final glance before turning back and giving his sleeve a sniff, even through his mask he could smell how horrid the stench emitting from his body was, his nose wrinkling in disgust. She was somewhat right, he hasn't bathed in a while.

"I'm sorry, who?"

She didn't know who this "Sally" was, perhaps it was the figure that had raced away, leaving the stuffed toy behind. She felt a bit more relaxed, give or take she no longer was an antelope dangled by the bind legs above a pit full of tigers, the corner of her mouth twitched upward, almost forming a small smile before dropping.

Thank the Lord, someone changed the channel, that droning static of candle cove was enough to make her want to rip her eyes and ears out as she envied the death. She felt a bit more clumsy now, with both her actions and her words, she needed to stay sharp, at any moment, Ashy could lunge at her and plunge that tiny little weapon of his into her gut, she wasn't a fan of dying.

"Hey, I was watching that!"

Goggles McGhee flung his hands upwards a bit before shaking his head and cussing underneath his breath. Sideburns had begun to flip through channels to see what else was on besides that creepy cartoon, he eventually landed on some sort of modeling show, the clothes they wore were hideous and it seemed that 20 gallons of hair spray held each models hair in place.

After getting little to no response, she rolled her eyes and grimaced, disgusted in her own behavior, but she couldn't help but let a sense of satisfaction and entitlement seep into her as she crossed her arms. Now then, what shall she do first? She supposed cleaning the fridge out should be what she should start off with, if she survives that, the rest of her chores would seem to be mildly easy. She turned on her heel, heading towards the kitchen with the black snakey like tail dragging behind her, whipping or flicking slightly.

Once she entered the kitchen, she noticed how dark in the room it was, considering the grime on the outside windows and the blackout curtains on the inside, her hand reached up, patting along the wall for a switch as she tried to peer through the darkness. "We're back in harmony." She muttered to herself. It was a small quote from one of her favorite books she had as a young teen, a thick novel of sorts. Finally, she found the switch before flicking it upwards with one hand, almost immedietely the bright shockingly white glare of the light above caused her to hiss and squint in distain, her hands flying to her eyes to cover them as the shock of the sudden light gradually released.

Ever so slowly, she removed her hands from her eyes, dropping them to her sides and taking a moment to review the previous events and peace together what happened. Should she apologise, should she say sorry for even being there? No, she had every right to be there, you shouldn't accuse someone of being an enemy just because you don't see them on a day to day basis. She felt slightly hurt, like she was uninvited in the only work space she had.

She shook her head quickly frim side to side, her glossy dark locks bobbing around before she shuddered. "No, im not going to do that. Risky, risky-" she didn't finish her sentences per usual, how could she? Besides, it wouldn't matter if she apologised or not, in about 4 hours or so she could head back to her RV. In 4 hours, this would be nothing, she would go back to working at night, she would go back to the silence and solitude and peace. This was a mere ripple in her pond of routine.

It was time to get to work.

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19agbrown · 6 years

Text

Returned Part 1

Series: Returned

Supernatural fan-fic

Chapter: 1

Pairing(s): Dean x Cas(eventually)

Warnings: language, violence, mention of child abuse, sibling murder, some deancas fluff and angst, hinted deancas smut(nothing too bad, but I thought I should mention it anyway), dean nightmare, and let me know if there is something I should've put but didn't.

Note: This is my way of celebrating my blog hitting 200 FOLLOWERS. I'm very excited about this, and I've had this idea for a while, so I figured that I'd write it for my 200 celebration, but I'm delighted to say that that came far sooner than I expected. I just wanted to say thank you SO much for following me! And please let me know in the comments how you feel about chapter 1 of "Returned". If you want tagged for further chapters, let me know, and I'll see if I can figure out how to work the tags. If you have any suggestions for further chapters, let me know, and ill see what I can do to put it in! Once again, thank you all so much for following me! Chapter 2 will be posted soon!

(Dream in italics)

At 11:32pm, a black 1967 Chevy Impala pulled into the garage of an old Men of Letters bunker, carrying 5 weary passengers. The driver, a tall man with startling green eyes, sighed upon entering. "Home sweet home." This man, was Dean Winchester. And the other 4 passengers, of course, were; Sam and Mary Winchester, Castiel the Angel, and Jack Kline the Nephilim. The very odd family had just returned from a fairly tough Werewolf hunt.

Bruised, bleeding, and just plain exhausted, the family exited the car, and entered the seemingly endless hallway that would deliver them to the Bunker proper. "Who wants pancakes?" Mary asked with a falsely cheerful smile. "I do!" Jack replied almost at once. Mary gave Jack a tired chuckle and a fond smile. Sam said as he dropped the dark blue duffle bag onto the war room table, "I'm sure Dean does too." Dean shook his head, and said through a yawn, "No, I'm good." Sam frowned at Dean, and laughed when Castiel put a hand to Dean's forehead. Blushing a deep shade of pink, Dean spluttered, "C-Cas, what exactly are you doing?" Castiel squinted at Dean, and tilted his head to the side as he replied, "I am checking your temperature."

Ignoring Sam's extremely loud laughter, Dean asked, "And why are you doing that?" Dropping his hand, Castiel replied, "You turned down food, so I thought you might be sick." At this, Sam laughed so hard that Dean was surprised that he wasn't running for a bathroom. Dean's blush deepened from pink to red, as he said, "No Cas, I'm not sick, I'm just tired. I just need to sleep a little. Get my 4 hours in, ya know?" Castiel frowned, and said, "No, I do not. But I will take your word for it." Dean cleared his throat, and said, "Alright then. I'm going to bed. Unless... you would like to come with me?"

Dean said this with a slight hopefulness that did not escape the attention of Mary and Sam, but Castiel noticed nothing. In his typical confused fashion, Castiel took Dean's offer to be a joke. "So, this is sarcasm." He thought. Not knowing how to respond to what he took to be just Dean's sense of humor, Castiel treated it as a serious request. "No thank you, Dean. I will just go and read some lore in the library."

With sadness that was obvious to everyone in the room, Dean nodded, and turned on his heel. Thinking hopefully that Dean had not been just joking, Castiel reached his hand out to stop him from leaving. But Dean was already slipping moodily through the doorway, and into the winding hallway that lead to Dean's room.

Dean sped quickly to his room, cursing his own stupidity the entire way. Slamming the door behind him, Dean went in. Not bothering to even undress, Dean dropped down to his bed, and sprawled himself out on top of the covers. Dean thought that, as usual, he would be kept up by thoughts of Cas, but much to his surprise, his eye lids began to droop as soon as his head touched the pillow.

The few feet between them might as well have been miles. Dean started as his sweeping gaze caught bright blue eyes, blinking slowly in the dim light. "Hello Dean." The gravelly voice behind the eyes that he so loved spoke. "C-Cas?" Dean's voice echoed in the small space. Suddenly Cas was under him, and smiling a shy, but perfect smile.

Dean couldn't believe that this was happening. Cas was here, and Cas was his. He HAD to be dreaming. It was with a pang that he realized he really was dreaming. If this were real, Cas would never be here, or be his.

But, Dean decided to make the most of the most beautiful person he had ever seen, laying completely naked beneath him. Even if it WAS only a dream.

Cas gave of a cute little gasp as Dean's mouth crashed against his. Dean shuddered as Cas' long fingers dug into his back. "C-Cas?" Dean said shyly. Castiel ran his fingers through Dean's hair as he replied softly. "Yes Dean?" Dean gulped before saying the one thing that he had wanted to tell the real Cas for years.

"I love you." Cas offered Dean a shy smile and Dean studied his face as a hint of pink lit it up. "I love you too Dean." Dean sighed in relief. Dean's sigh turned into a growl as Cas ran his hand down Dean's back, going lower and lower. Dean gasped in shock as Cas' hand found it's destination.

Cas laughed a gravelly laugh that Dean could listen to forever, before pulling the blanket up over their heads.

When they finally reemerged from under the blanket, Dean's face was a mask of joy, and Cas' face was lit up with bliss. "That was..." Dean began before he trailed off. "I know." Cas said quietly. But just as Dean's arms wrapped around Cas' glowing frame, everything changed.

A whirlwind the color of blood spiraled across Dean's perfect dream, and Cas was ripped away from him. "Cas!" Dean shouted desperately. But Cas was unable to answer as he was carried away on the wind. Dean screamed as the whirlwind swept him up, and he was tossed all around the red vertex.

When the whirlwind finally dropped Dean, he was standing right smack in the middle of an old nightmare that he hadn't seen in years. This nightmare was something that Dean used to dread, but over the years, the event that lead to it had become so faint that Dean could almost pretend that it had happened the way he and John had told Sam it had.

Dean's tear filled green eyes were locked onto her blood shot brown ones. She was no older than he was, in fact she was 12 minuets younger, but she looked like she was years older. Dean knew her to be a very cheerful person, but the dark circles under her eyes told him that her story lately had not been so bright. Dean tried his best to keep his eyes averted from the scarlet blood that had been forcefully smeared across her mouth, but to no avail.

Dean started as his father's cold words bit into his brain like knives. "Do it Dean." He had said. The tears which Dean was struggling to hold back threatened to spill over as she begged him, "Dean... don't do it. Please don't do it." She wasn't crying, and Dean was not surprised. She was made of tougher stuff than that. His hands were slick with sweat on the leather covered handle of John's revolver. "Dean. Now." John Commanded.

Dean couldn't breathe. Her calm eyes bore into his, as she said in a reasonable tone, the same tone she had used when coaxing Sammy to finish his dinner, "Dean, you don't have to do this, you're better than this." His hands began shaking. He didn't want to do it, but what other choice did he have? "Dean! Do as I say!" John shouted angry at being disobeyed. Dean flinched, expecting the rough hit that would usually accompany his disobedience. But the hit never came, making Dean realize that John didn't want this either. Not really. But he had asked it to be done, so it had to be done. Slowly as he could, Dean reluctantly slid his index finger to the cold, steel trigger.

"Dean, you don't have to do what Dad says, you can walk away from this." Her soft and gentle tone did nothing to soften the implication of her words. Did she think he couldn't do it? Did she really think that he was that weak? He wasn't weak, and he meant to tell her that, but what came out instead would tell her just exactly what he had decided to do. "Shut up Alley! Just shut up! I'm not like you! I'm not a weak, insufferable coward! I don't abandon my family when they need me! I didn't take Sammy and run, leaving behind the only other 2 people who cared about me! No, Alley. I can't walk away. I won't walk away. I'm so sorry Sissy, and I hope that you'll forgive me in Heaven, if we make it there. If not, then see you in Hell."

Her brown eyes widened, betraying the first sign of terror. Her voice was pitched overly high as she said, "Dean..." BANG! Dean gasped as the tiny revolver recoiled in his sweaty hands. Dean screamed in anguish as he saw the perfectly round bullet-hole in her forehead. "You had to do it son." John said grimly, ignoring Dean's cries. Dean walked stiffly over to where she layed, rigid as a board. Dean fell to his knees next to her, and let his tears fall freely. Dean, gently as he could manage, cradled her head in his lap.

Dean then began rocking numbly back and forth. "I'm so sorry Sissy, I had to do it. I'm so sorry." Dean repeatedly whispered to her deaf ears. Dean's whispers slowly got louder as she just layed there, unknowing and uncaring that his very soul felt like it was shattering. John reached a shaking hand over Dean's shoulder and closed the glassy, sightless eyes of his only daughter. "Bye Princess." John whispered faintly.

Dean's whispers rose to screams of "Sissy wake up! I'm sorry Sissy! Please wake up!" Then he began repeating at the same volume, "Sissy no! Sissy no! Sissy no!" A deep rumbling voice that had never been there before yelled, "Dean wake up!" Dean heard the slightly familiar voice as if from the other end of a long, long tunnel. Dean watched in shock as Alley did something she had never done before. She woke up. "Dean." She said angrily. Dean's screams didn't stop, but his heart nearly did as she stood. The bullet-hole was miraculously gone, and she looked at him with none of the love he remembered seeing in those eyes, even when they were blank and glassy.

"Dean wake up!" the voice cut in again, sounding closer this time. "Dean," She said to him, some of the old love seeping back into her voice and eyes. "Beany, you've got to wake up. And you can't dream about me anymore okay?" Still screaming, Dean nodded. "There's my good -"

But her good what, he would never know, for at this moment, Castiel finally succeeded at waking him up. Dean sat up, still screaming her name. Castiel's arms enveloped him instantly. And mere seconds later, Sam's hand clamped onto his shoulder. Tears poured down Dean's face in streams. Great, wracking sobs ripped through Dean's body. "It's okay Dean. Shhhh... You're okay. You're safe, I promise." Castiel's voice soothingly rumbled. Dean shook his head, and burried his face into Castiel's shoulder.

Mary's voice sounded from somewhere to Dean's right, and she sounded worried. "What's wrong with Dean?" She asked. Dean dug his fingers into Castiel's back as he thought that she wouldn't care if she knew what he had done. Nobody answered Mary.

Castiel tilted his head a bit to the side and asked Sam, "Who is Sissy?" Cas and Sam immediately felt Dean tense. Sam took a moment to gather his thoughts, and then answered slowly, "Sissy is the nickname that Dean had for our sister." Mary nodded and said, "Like how he calls you Sammy." Sam shrugged, "Not exactly. He always called her that because she wasn't a sissy. She was tougher than Dean or I, and we all knew it. I think that calling her Sissy just made him feel better about it, and she never minded much, so he just kept doing it."

Castiel squinted at Sam. "You have a sister?" Sam nodded. "Yes. Well... had a sister..." Castiel tilted his head even further to the side. "Had?" Sam cleared his throat and said, "She died when I was 13. Vamp got her. Dad and Dean saw the whole thing, but couldn't stop it. She was Dean's twin." Castiel's arms tightened even more around Dean as Sam finished.

Miles away, the ground beneath a 23-year-old oak tree began heaving and moving. In a matter of minutes, a girl was crawling out of it. All 6 feet of her stood on the edge of the patch of churned earth, staring up at the light purple sky, just visible through the tree branches. It had been so long since she'd last seen the sky, but just how long, she had no clue.

"Dean," She whispered to the heavens with an edge in her voice. "I'm coming for you brother."

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