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from-a-reckless-writer · 3 years

Note

RE: the tags about being tempted to post a half finished fic and guess the ending, well you are a reckless writer for a reason

this is long overdue, so here have a fic.

It has come to the point that nothing fazes her anymore.

A kidnapping? Been there, done that. It means calling Sam Arias to intimidate the board of members into temporary submission.

An explosion at the office? Just a typical Tuesday. It means relocating to the 23rd floor and sharing the desk with two other interns for 2 months tops.

An assassination attempt? It means bracing herself for at least 3 deliveries of donuts and coffee for the two following weeks that Kara Danvers would be protectively hovering over L-Corp, until her boss snaps and shoos her away back to CatCo.

She’s seen it all, endured it all and she sure as hell is prepared for it all. She’s got three different ironclad statements ready to publish for whatever PR disaster will most likely turn up that week. She’s got contacts from the FBI, DEO, CatCo, Daily Planet, Gotham Gazette-- hell she even has Lillian’s personal cell (just in case the Luthor matriarch ever tries anything y’know? ) and yes, even the number of that 'Mexican place at 5th and Spring, you know the one Kara likes, Jess?'

She’s got two pairs of heels, a raincoat and four sets of outfits neatly folded in a duffel bag, at the back of the office, reserved for any emergency that requires a change of clothes.

The point is, she is an independent Asian-American woman who has worked her ass off for the better part of the decade and has long learned to take no shit from anybody.

Not even stupid superpowered Kryptonians.

See, it takes a lot to be her. It takes unlimited patience to put up with a woman like Lena Luthor, not because she’s a terrible person. Oh no, no, the complete opposite, actually. She is so overwhelmingly kind to a fault, and she doesn’t want nor let anybody see it. It’s infuriating to see sometimes. Okay, fine, she sides with the Krytonian on that one matter. But oh, ho, ho, not today. Today, she’s mad.

She’s livid, actually and it’s all Supergirl’s fault. (and Lena Luthor's too.)

Jess has had her fair share of ‘I-Should-Not-Have-Been-Here’ moments, like that one time she forgot to knock and stumbled unto Lex mid-yell with Lena whose eyes were shimmering but was still keeping a rigid posture.

Or that one time when she thought her boss had long left the office, only to be greeted with quiet sobs and an empty bottle of scotch rolling on the floor. Or that time she happened upon Lena, skirt and sleeves on fire with fumes rising from a green solution.

Apparently, her staff from the lab refused to let her in after three days of their CEO holding herself in isolation with the experiment. Lena had gotten the great idea of smuggling the chemicals to her office instead. Luthors are nothing but determined. Jess still remembers the adrenaline rush of holding a fire extinguisher—as if she were the chosen 5th grader for a school fire drill—and shoving her boss out of the way.

Like she said, nothing fazes her anymore she’s seen it all, except maybe, this one. Yep, definitely this one. This one just made a hot ball of fury unfurl at her very core. This one might just take the cake.

Jess was just going about her day, returned from a hearty lunch and feeling reinvigorated from that dose of sunlight and fresh air. It was a quiet day today, she noticed, which should’ve been a foretelling.

Nothing really is ever quiet. Well, when it comes to L-Corp, at least.

She’s been sitting on her desk for about a good fifteen minutes and finished with screening a few papers from their new contractors, when it occurs to her that the latest blueprints from R&D are still on her desk instead of already being reviewed by her boss.

She grabs the drawing tube and quickly makes for her boss’s private office. They’ve spent enough time with each other that Jess could just come and go as she pleases, instead of having to knock each time. Saves both of their time, that way.

Although, usually, she buzzes through the intercom first to double check, but it was 1:20 P.M and she knows Lena doesn’t have anything scheduled after lunch. So, she pushes the door, confidently strolls in and promptly stops in her tracks.

Jess stops breathing for a moment, blinks once, twice, stares at the scene before her.

Lena Luthor sat atop her work desk; blouse open, eyes closed, cheeks flushed, neck currently being ravaged by Supergirl with legs wrapped around the waist.

She probably should’ve just turned and left while they haven’t seen her yet. That would’ve been the smart decision, right? Yes. Yes, it was so very clearly The Right Decision.

Of course, she doubts she could look Lena in the eye for the next few weeks after that, but at least she wouldn’t know that Jess walked in on them during an er- make-out session? Office tryst? Oh God, she shudders internally. It sounds even worse.

Incident? Yep. Yeah. She’s sticking with incident. Indecent incident sounds more apt really.

She should’ve left. Would have left, if her eyes didn’t just land on the desk—well, more like Miss Luthor’s as- backside—and felt the stirrings of rage make itself known. Because there, underneath Lena’s ass (Backside!! Jess, that’s your boss!) is the squished—probably crumpled—pages of a contract.

A contract they’ve spent 5 months securing!!

Jess decides to do what everyone else would have done in a situation such as this; she clears her throat. Loudly.

Classic move.

Supergirl’s head immediately shoots up and Lena’s eyes snap open.

“Jess!” Supergirl squeaks and she sees the exact moment the realization hits Lena. Her eyes widening at her girlfriend’s exclamation, whips her head to the side, spots Jess, hands scrambling to a panic to close all the buttons of her blouse.

She hears Lena hiss, “Fuck, shit. Oh my God. Shit. How did she even- You have superhearing!!!” as she pushes Supergirl—who lets herself be pushed, stunned by the intrusion, face redder than a tomato.

Lena gets off the desk, fixes herself all the while to futile results. Her hair is tugged down from her usual ponytail, her neck and chest is marked, her lips swollen.

Supergirl's hands twitch at the sides and Jess sees her gulp as blue eyes frantically dart to Lena and her, and then Lena, and then back to her.

Lena finally turns around after those few awkward beats.

"Jess," she begins, clearly trying hard to put on her business bitch persona, but come on, there's a hickey under her jaw for fuck's sake.

"It's not what you-"

Jess doesn’t let her finish, she stomps her way across the office and forcefully puts the drawing tube on the desk. It makes a hollow thump.

“Jess I-”

“Supergirl, do you know how long it takes to finalize a business proposal, pitch it to the board, persuade the board and finally have a contract drawn?”

Supergirl gulps again. Lena’s eyes are wild next to her, she doesn’t like not knowing what the next best move is, Jess knows this all too well.

“Uhhh- no?”

Jesus Christ, you’d think after years of shadowing Cat Grant, she'd had at least learned a thing or two. Then again, if somebody is full on glaring at her after getting caught red-handed, Jess doubts she could answer coherently too.

“That’s right,” Jess says, “You don’t.”

“Jess,” Lena repeats pointedly. She knows that tone. It’s a warning.

“Ms. Luthor.”

A period not a question mark. It’s a challenge.

"I've spent all my evenings working late on that, do you know how many dates I've had to cancel? Just so I can secure a meeting with Qatar and simultaneously sync it with Beijing's time? My boyfriend hasn't seen me in two weeks!” Jess bursts out.

“Two weeks, Supergirl!” She gets close enough to jab a finger to the Girl of Steel’s chest. A feat she will gladly tell all her coworkers later when she’s calmed down enough.

“Not to mention, the 10 other people who worked their ass off trying to make sure that Miss Luthor's presentation is airtight, bulletproof and waterproof!” Lena has the decency to look a little guilty at this point, nothing big though, just a slight tug at her lips, but it was enough for Jess.

“IT TOOK ME 3 FUCKING MINUTES TO PRINT THAT GODDAMN CONTRACT WHICH MIGHT NOT SOUND LONG—” Jess raises a finger in emphasis, “BUT BELIEVE ME WORKING IN L-CORP? A 3 MINUTE DIFFERENCE CAN MEAN AN ASSASSINATION ATTEMPT OR PSYCHOPATH PRESS!”

Supegirl of all people should already know this! For fuck’s sake!

Jess’s chest is heaving. She takes a deep breath, kneads her knuckles to her eyelids, “So, please if you're gonna have sex in the office, please, pleaseeeee clear the desk first. And at least, lock the door.”

She stares them both down, till Lena gives her a solemn nod; cheeks and ears still red. Supergirl squeaks out an, “U-understood, Ma’am.”

“Good. Glad we’ve come to an agreement.” Jess gives them one final nod before finally fulfilling what she came in here to do, “Miss Luthor,” She turns to Lena, “here are the R&D blueprints. Good day, to you Supergirl. I'll be going now. "

When she finally goes home, tells her boyfriend, and wonders aloud if she’ll still have a job the next morning, he tells her she’s such a badass.

And well, Jess can’t disagree with that.

*****

"Did I just- Did I just get yelled at by your secretary?? D-did she just chew us out?"

"She did, and she deserves a raise."

#i call this fic how many commas can i use in one sentence?#i think this is by far the most crack thing ive written #poor jess #in this house we worship and praise jess the secretary and her thrity second cameo in that ONE scene #if u see a typo no u didnt #the reckless writer writes #a supercorp ficlet of sorts

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chiliiscereal · 3 years

Note

Here’s your GIF for the writing challenge!

Prompt: “It’s not safe to be out here by yourself.”

Good luck and thanks for participating!💛

Thanks for letting me do this challenge again @crossbowking !

Pairing: father figure Daryl x reader AGAIN cause I’m a sucker for that lol

Setting: season 2

Type: fluff and angst I guess?

Summary: when looking for Sophia, Daryl finds reader holed up in a cabin. Reader doesn’t speak, doesn’t listen, and doesn’t trust them at all. No one can figure out why but reader sticks with them anyway. One day, Daryl follows reader when they sneak out of camp, hoping to find out what could possibly have happened to make them like that

——————-

Silent world

Sophia’s tracks had begun to fade like the afternoon sunlight. They had gotten faint but Daryl didn’t want to tell Carol the truth. Eventually they disappeared and he was only left with a direction.

He found a set of footsteps the size of Sophia’s about thirty minutes later. It had to be her. Judging by how they weren’t set in one specific direction, whoever it was must be lost.

He followed the footsteps to an old cabin. She had to be in there.

You, however, hadn’t realized you were followed until the door was opened. You felt the thumping of cautious footsteps on the floorboards and immediately jumped into action. You pulled yourself from the floor quickly and hid yourself beneath the dusty bed in the corner, dragging the blankets down to obscure you from their vision. If there was one thing you’d learned in this new world it was that you couldn’t trust people. Strangers, family, doesn’t matter.

“Sophia?” Daryl called out as he peered around the corner cautiously. He glanced about the room, taking in the living conditions.

Old food wrappers...

Empty water bottles...

A few blood stains...

An old backpack that CLEARLY wasn’t Sophia’s...

Whoever had been there it wasn’t Sophia. They’d been there longer than the girl had been lost.

He tightened his grip on his crossbow. “Whoever’s in here better come out now.” He ordered.

The only response was a slight shuffling noise from under the bed. If it had been Shane or Rick they wouldn’t have heard it. But Daryl had been hunting out in the woods since he was a child, trained in hearing the sounds of hiding creatures.

Whoever they were they were alive.

“Gonna hide forever?” He growled, raising the crossbow so it pointing at the bed.

Nothing.

He was absolutely tired of this person acting like their cover hadn’t been blown.

“Get out before I drag ya out myself.” He ordered, stepping closer.

Still nothing.

Finally, he had enough of it. He reached over and pulled the blanket away from the floor. He waited... thinking they’d come out.

No movement at all.

He grabbed the bed by its headboard and shoved it away from the wall, causing a small gasp to come from underneath it.

You were no longer in darkness.

You opened your wide eyes and backed up against the wall, chest heaving with panic.

This man looked dangerous to say the least.

Mean expression.

Weapon out and pointed at her face.

Knife hanging at his belt.

Suspicious blood stains on his shirt.

“You gotta be shittin’ me.” He groaned. “I go out lookin’ fer one kid and then I find a different one?”

You didn’t respond. You just watched him with wide eyes.

“Ya seen another girl ‘round here, kid?” He asked, trying to calm down.

Still nothing. You just pulled your legs closer and tried to press closer into the wall.

“Got a family?” He interrogated with a firmer tone. “A group? Parents? Hell, even a weapon?”

You watched him carefully. Almost too carefully in Daryl’s opinion. Once he’d finished you shook your head, eyes drifting back to the crossbow in his hand.

He hadn’t even realized it was still pointing at her. He lowered it but still kept the weapon in his grip. “The hell am I ‘sposed to do now?” He asked himself out loud. “Don’t need another mouth to feed.”

You didn’t offer any suggestions. All you did was stare.

After a moment he groaned, his morals speaking louder than the selfishness of a survivor. “Damn it. C’mon. Get up.” He waved you to follow after him.

You shook your head, backing away. You didn’t know this man! He could hurt you! Do bad things! No way in hell would you willingly go with him.

He frowned. “Can’t ya talk?”

Nothing.

Just wide eyes.

“Listen, I’m ‘bout to leave yer ass alone in the woods if ya don’t give me a good enough reason why ya can’t.” His temper began to flare. “Got a group, got food, got water, an’ other kids. Seems like a pretty good deal ta me.”

You seemed to react to the word ‘kids’. You sat up a bit and seemed to watch him with interest.

“Yeah. We got another kid at our camp.” He nodded. “It’s safe.” He swore he was about to leave right then when you said nothing.

You looked down at the floor, thinking. Was this a good idea? He could easily be lying. Very easily. He seemed to know exactly what to say. That was dangerous. Very dangerous.

But other kids... safety... and water... that was something you hadn’t seen in a good long while. Might as well give it a try, right? You could always run if things went south. You were good at that.

Needless to say, Daryl was surprised when you pulled yourself off the ground and picked up your bag. You gave him a wary look but followed him anyway.

“So, ya ever talk?” He asked as the two of you walked through the woods.

You didn’t answer. You just surveyed the woods carefully. He could have men out there waiting to jump you and do bad things. Or there could be walkers. You didn’t know.

Your racing thoughts were interrupted by a tap on your shoulder, flinching you out of your state of mind.

“Gonna answer me or what?” Daryl asked, getting more and more frustrated.

You just frowned at him, unsure of what he was saying. He was talking too fast for you to follow along with it.

“I asked if ya ever talk.” He shouldered his crossbow, no hope whatsoever in you answering.

All he got in return was a shrug.

“I’ll take that as a no.” He sighed. Whatever. At least he’d be able to walk to the farm in silence.

—————-

When they arrived everyone was confused on who you were or where you came from.

The people living in the farm house asked you many questions and you could only catch a few words here and there.

Where

Who

Name

Girl

Sophia

Seen

Group

Woods

You just stared at the floor, unsure of how to respond.

“Is there something wrong with her?” Maggie asked quietly. “She’s not answering anything.”

“Been like that since I found ‘er.” Daryl shrugged. “Ain’t sure ‘a her name, family, or if she even got anybody.”

“Where’d you find her?” Lori frowned. “Surely she has parents somewhere out there.”

Daryl wanted nothing more to leave and return to his tent. But he answered anyway. “Was in a cabin. By the looks ‘a it it’s just her.”

“Sweetie, can you tell us your name?” Lori bent down so she could see your face. “Or where your parents are?”

Your eyes didn’t leave the floor.

Lori sighed. “It’s almost as if she can’t hear me.”

“Or don’t want to.” Shane snorted, leaning against the wall. “Kid doesn’t seem too happy to be here. Probably just thinks ignorin’ us is gonna make us mad or some shit.”

“Damn right it’s makin’ me mad.” The hunter watched the kid in front of him. “Can’t tell if it’s on purpose.”

“I’ve heard ‘bout kids shutting down an’ not speak in’ when they’ve been through somethin’ traumatic.” Hershel informed the group. “It could be like what happened to Beth earlier, an’ it’ll just take some time for her to come around.”

That was the answer everyone seemed to settle on.

They gave you time as well as plenty of opportunities to talk to them. They tried asking questions or telling you things but you didn’t respond no matter how hard anyone tried.

Daryl began to suspect what the real case could be when you didn’t even respond when Shane yelled at you.

He’d been trying to hurry up the process by forcing you to talk. When he got no response he finally snapped.

You’d been reading a book Maggie let you borrow, unaware that anyone had been talking. But you caught on quickly when the book had been slapped from your hands.

You gasped and stumbled away, face to face with an angry Shane.

You weren’t close to anyone in the group so you ran to the person who had brought you there, hiding behind Daryl.

Daryl had been surprised. He didn’t think you liked anybody there at all. After all, you never talked to anybody. Never answered any questions. Being there for five days hadn’t changed anything.

“The hell’s yer problem man.” Daryl growled. “Ya always go ‘round tryin’ to scare kids or what?”

“It’s not my damn fault she won’t talk.” Shane yelled. “She’s gonna learn some respect if she wants to stay here.”

“Yellin’ at her won’t get ya any damn respect.” Daryl bit back. “Hershel said it’d take time, didn’t he?” He glanced down at you as you hid your face from the fight.

“It’s takin’ too much in my opinion.” Shane rolled his eyes and turned to walk away.

From that day on you steered clear of Shane and stayed by Daryl’s side. He wasn’t too sure why you’d chosen him out of everyone else and neither were you. But it seemed to be the right choice. The man never forced you to talk. He never yelled at you when you didn’t react.

It seemed like he simply enjoyed peace and quiet.

You helped around the farm house by washing dishes and feeding chickens. You helped Maggie and Lori make dinner and always helped them clean up after.

You picked flowers for Lori.

You showed Carl how to climb a tree.

You played cards with Glenn.

If Daryl didn’t know better he’d say that you were enjoying your stay at the farm.

But you still weren’t talking.

You interacted with everyone, yeah, but you still never spoke.

Not even when the farm fell.

—————

You and everyone had spent almost a month out in the woods once the farm was gone. You bounced from house to house and never stayed in one spot longer than needed.

One house you stayed at, you found a pair of small batteries. Even wire and tweezers. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to give you hope.

So that night you snuck out to the back yard once you were sure everyone was asleep.

But everyone wasn’t.

Daryl wasn’t.

He’d noticed the moment you disappeared.

He’d gotten up and walked outside, crossbow in hand. Maybe you’d ran away. Or got taken. Maybe you went outside and gotten lost.

But he found you leaning against a tree instead.

“It’s not safe to be out here by yourself.” Daryl stated, even though he knew you wouldn’t respond.

You did however react to feeling his footsteps vibrating the ground. Quickly, you stuffed whatever had been in your hands into your pockets and looked at him with wide eyes.

“Damn, kid, I ain’t gonna bite.” He held up his hands in surrender. “The hell ya doin out here?”

As always, you didn’t say anything. You looked back at the forest floor almost guiltily.

“Somethin’ wrong?” He frowned.

You knew you should tell him. He’d proven himself trustworthy after all. You just... you were scared you were wrong. That he’d be just like every other adult I. Your life.

“What’d ya have in yer hand before?” He tried, gesturing to whatever you’d stuffed in your pocket.

You tore your gaze away from him and reached down to pull out an object wrapped in cloth.

Daryl sat down beside you. “Can I see it?”

You held it a bit closer, brain still thinking in circles.

“I ain’t gonna break it or nothin’ if that’s what yer worried about.” He rolled his eyes.

Finally your mind was made. You set it down in his hands and waiting for his reaction.

Carefully, aware that you were watching his every movement, he unwrapped whatever it was.

He didn’t know what it was at first. It was almost as long as his smallest finger and was colored silver and tan. He realized what it was when he finally turned it over.

“Hearin’ aids?” He asked, turning to you.

You took a deep breath and nodded. “D-deaf.” You spoke, nerves at how he’d react making you stutter.

He jerked back a bit in surprise. “Ya been deaf this entire time?”

Another nervous nod.

“Damn, that’s impressive.” He gave you a sort of half grin. “How’d no one catch on? An’ why didn’t ya tell nobody?”

You reached into your pocket and pulled out a notebook, scribbling on a couple sentences. You showed him once you were done.

‘Lip reading. And I didn’t trust you.’

“But why didn’t ya talk like ya did now?” He frowned. “I wouldn’t ‘a known the difference.”

You wrote down more, hesitantly.

‘I’ve been told I sound stupid when I talk. So I don’t.’

You fiddled with your shoelace as he read.

“Who the hell told ya that?” He practically growled. “And why don’t ya know any ‘a that sign language?”

You took the notebook back and wrote down a few more sentences.

“And why don’t ya use the hearin’ aids?” He added.

You turned the book back to face him, only one word written.

‘Dad’

You felt ashamed to be admitting this. This wasn’t anything he needed to know. He would probably react the same way your dad reacted when he was given the opportunity.

“Hell no yer gonna explain more than that.” Daryl pushed the book back into your arms. “Can’t just half ass an answer.”

You sighed and began again.

‘He thought being deaf was a weakness. No sign language, no hearing aids, and no talking the moment my mom turned. He broke them when I broke the rules.’

You swallowed the emotions rising back up in the back of your throat.

He was a horrible man.

It was sickening, but you were almost glad that he was gone.

Daryl’s expression darkened when he read those words. “Sounds like an ass to me.” He handed the notebook back to you again. “So you tryin’ ya fix ‘em?”

You nodded and pulled out the batteries and wire, shrugging.

Daryl sighed. “Sorry, but that won’t be enough to fix these.” He examined the hearing aids once more. The wires were pulled apart and some of the plastic had snapped.

“... I know.” You managed to speak again, summoning your bravery. “Just wanted to try.”

Daryl’s expression didn’t change when you spoke. Maybe your dad was wrong. Maybe you didn’t sound as stupid as he told you you did.

Daryl handed the hearing aids back to you gently. “M’sorry kid.”

You shrugged again, placing them back in your pocket carefully.

Suddenly, Daryl had an idea. I’d require a run for sure but it’d be worth it. For now, he’d keep quiet about it. He didn’t even know if it’d work. But he might as well try.

——-

For the next few weeks on the road Daryl was on every run. You were curious about why but you dismissed it as him trying to make sure everyone would survive the coming winter.

By now, everyone knew you were deaf. They all reacted as Daryl had and treated you the same as they always did.

It was relieving to be honest. And a bit of a surprise. But the bigger surprise came later when Daryl told you he wanted to show everyone something in the woods.

You’d followed along, assuming he’d found more supplies.

Instead of revealing more supplies, he knelt down so he was at your level.

“I know it’s been hard without yer hearin’...” he started, reaching into his back pocket, “an’ I hope ya don’t mind I did this without askin’...” he pulled out an object wrapped in a familiar cloth.

You realized what was happening the moment you saw it.

“I gave it my best shot.” He pulled away the fabric and revealed the newly repaired hearing aids. “Found a book an’ some supplies on the last run.”

You hadn’t even realized tears were running down your face until they dropped onto your shirt.

Daryl reaches over and placed the hearing aids in your hands. “Give ‘em a try?”

You glanced at the faces of your new group. They must have known. Not a single one of them looked surprised. Just expectant and...happy. Happy for you.

Slowly, you tucked your hair out of your way. You set the small machine in place. You placed your hand over the on button tentatively.

The Hunter you’d grown attached to gave you a nod.

Finally, you pressed the button.

You waited and held your breath.

It was as if everything came crashing in at once.

The wind that rushed through the trees was giving out hollow rattling noises.

The birds above were chirping shrilly, each whistle harmoniously fitting together like a puzzle.

And you... you could hear yourself gasping in surprise as you spun in circles. You could hear the leaves crunching beneath your feet. Did that always happen?

“I’ll take it that it works?” Your thought were interrupted by a raspy southern accent.

You spun around, facing Daryl once more.

He stood back up, tip of his mouth tipped up in a half smile.

You couldn’t speak.

You couldn’t even thank him with your words.

So you thanked him the only way you knew how: with actions.

You wasted no time in running in his direction, more tearing spilling down your face as you wrapped your arms around the surprised man.

He returned the gesture after a moment of hesitation. “Wasn’t no problem.”

You buried you face in his shoulder, overcome with emotion. “Thank you thank you thank you thank you!”

He rubbed your back comfortingly. “Was nothin’.”

You shook you head and hugged him harder. “No, it was everything.”

#crossbowkingwritingchallenge #for you #bookish #wattpad #fanfic #twd daryl #twd fanfiction #twd incorrect quotes #the walking dead #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon x reader

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miraculouscontent · 3 years

Photo

All the thoughts:

First off, the plan.

I don’t get Shadow Moth’s plan or Optigami in general. Like, it was already weird that we had the phone that picked up on a kwami’s voice (I’ll hold my tongue on that one until we have all the episodes that take place before this, though my hopes aren’t high), but both Optigami and the phone happening in the same episode when it’s been resaid in this season that kwami can’t be seen/heard by technology is just silly. I get that Optigami is a sentimonster so it’s “magic technology,” but I dunno, something feels weird about it.

The reason I bring it up is because what’s shown contradicts what happens later in the episode. The footage shown by Optigami shows Carapace de-transforming and Wayzz popping out of the miraculous right afterwards, but when Senti!Carapace and Rena Rouge detransform at the end of the episode, the kwami don’t pop out. The former is also consistent with most detransformations; the kwami usually pops out (for the easiest reference, the beginning of “Miraculer” does this with both Alya and Nino, and Alya detransforming in “Gang of Secrets” also does this).

I presume this was done to force Ladybug to use her Lucky Charm in order to figure out that Senti!Nino was Shadow Moth’s sentimonster, because otherwise I just imagine Wayzz popping out to complain that there’s something in his miraculous and how it isn’t even paying rent.

Gabriel also non-subtly invites “everyone” to the event, yet “everyone” apparently only means conveniently the people who Shadow Moth knows as heroes, plus Marinette for no explained reason whatsoever. Chat Noir could’ve even noted after the fact that everyone invited were past heroes (because he knows Multimouse and probably wouldn’t think “wait, that doesn’t make sense--”), or the characters themselves could’ve noticed it, but that would’ve meant the show pointing out the blatant plothole that Marinette is lobbed in there. This could’ve also been a chance for the characters to all establish, “hey, we were heroes!” and have a cool camaraderie between them (presuming they know that they were outed), but instead they serve no purpose beyond being essentially background characters for Style Queen to tick off like a checklist. They had the perfect moment to do something to give everyone more character and they wasted it to do an unneeded scene of Alya trying to shove Marinette towards Adrien (I’ll get there).

It also puzzles me that Gabriel’s plan was to cause an akuma that would force Ladybug to bring another miraculous when...

Style Queen didn’t cause her to do that?? Now, if one isn’t really thinking (like it seems the writers didn’t) and/or only vaguely remembers the episode (i.e: that Chloe got a miraculous and Queen Bee/Wasp is the immediate follow-up), then they’ll recall that Ladybug did indeed go to Master Fu’s to get a miraculous, but only did she not need it in the end, the reason the Lucky Charm sent her there in the first place was to get Plagg, i.e: the cat.

And yes, Shadow Moth does have Style Queen glitter the building so that no one can get in, which ends up blocking Chat Noir off, but that only works if he knows that Ladybug is in the building but not Chat.

Speaking of Ladybug, and this one is more of a nitpick, but she delays using Miraculous Ladybug and I feel like it could’ve been done better, like if she went to use it but stopped herself because something didn’t feel right, but instead she points out the weirdness of not using her Lucky Charm while not thinking further on it until she sees the handshake. Regardless of the comments she makes towards the Lucky Charm, the episode leaves a weird feeling of, “Why haven’t you used Miraculous Ladybug yet? The akuma is gone.” Marinette even saw the sentimonster, which clearly isn’t Style Queen, yet the episode forgets about it because--oh wait, it was just there to build up to an attempted identity reveal that went nowhere.

So, yeah--the elevator...

Say it with me: it’s stupid, it’s pointless, it makes no sense, it serves no meaning to the plot, its only roles in the episode is for love square fuel and to embarrass Marinette.

And on that last note, I know I said I’d keep quiet on the phone, but I swear, if it’s not explained in any form why the kwami can communicate with her, then it was literally just invented so that it could startle/embarrass her.

Also, to the surprise of no one, the kwami who live with her still don’t understand how to deal with her. :|

Not only does the scene draaaaag and the chances of Adrien and Marinette not only thinking of the same hiding place (an elevator, something that both makes no sense because Style Queen can easily pop up if she hears the elevator, but also that they rarely ever choose as a transforming spot; in fact, I can’t think of a time they’ve chosen an elevator??), but also happening to pick the same elevator.

As for it making no sense, the identity reveal was completely unnecessary. Either of them telling the other their identity would’ve done nothing, and even if they planned to tell the other to block the eyes watching them so they could transform, it wouldn’t matter, because that just makes it obvious what they’re doing. Plus, if the concern was needing to tell the other so they could get out of the elevator somehow, then there would’ve been no reason not to tell them after the eyes were gone. Marinette could’ve texted Alya at any time when they were being quiet.

And as if the setup wasn’t already contrived enough, Nathalie takes far too long to leave Adrien and Marinette alone. Optigami goes into the elevator on Nathalie’s orders (which is the whole thing that makes the two go quiet and consider doing a reveal in the first place), and it takes fourty seconds before Nathalie finally notes that it’s just Adrien and Marinette. Like, unless she got up to make a sandwich before she analyzed the footage, I just--???

Anyway, the last thing to really talk about is Alya and oh my gosh, the sheer amount of double standards here...

Like, just starting with the scene where Alya physically shoves Marinette towards the elevator, despite Marinette’s protests, it just makes me shake my head all the more, especially after “Mr. Pigeon 72.” I already knew the show wasn’t going to follow up on the whole “when you’re ready” stuff in “Gang of Secrets,” and “Mr. Pigeon 72″ just forwarded that with Alya immediately pressing for Adrien, but I didn’t expect Alya to try and force things this hard.

Just gonna add as well that both Luka and Kagami saw Alya do this, which would’ve been a great opportunity for it to trigger alarm bells for both of them (Luka going, “oh, it’s no wonder Marinette struggles with Adrien when--” and Kagami like, “hey this is familiar, almost like Marinette thought it was okay because it happens to her all the time and maybe I should step in to say something”; by the way, for those who want another fix-it, yeah, that’d what it’d be), because Marinette was literally totally fine until Alya tried to force the matter.

But again, blatant show of “fine if it’s for the love square, not fine if it’s not.”

And after “Mr. Pigeon 72″ and now this, do the writers really think that I wasn’t going to notice the fact that Marinette is only getting the “damsel in distress” role now that the kwami and Alya are conveniently there to save her? It’s like they knew the backlash that would happen from Marinette telling Alya her identity (the rightfully deserved backlash, not even because of the identity thing - I understand narratively that Marinette was at her breaking point, though the timing is awful - but because Alya was like--one of the worst choices), so they decided to justify it by having Marinette be put into peril multiple times this season to the degree where Alya would have to swoop in and save her. Essentially, they’re nerfing their protagonist and forcing her into these situations to lift Alya up and make Alya look like a better/more intelligent friend.

Marinette didn’t need a confidant because she was constantly one step away from danger, she needed one emotionally, yet now the show has been continuously letting Alya figure out important guardian matters and saving Marinette’s backside because apparently, “Marinette is more emotionally stable now that she has someone who knows her secret,” wasn’t enough. Handing Alya the win on Lila and either ignoring or excusing all of her past actions to make her look good wasn’t enough.

Trying to make everything about Adrien instead of Marinette wasn’t enough. Now they’re throwing in Alya and giving her stuff to do while Marinette sits idly and just waits to be saved. Yes, Marinette ultimately does the most in the end and Alya screws up, but what happens?

Alya gets rewarded for it. She gets to have the fox miraculous given to her permanently, which the narrative lowkey chided Marinette for not doing (with Trixx’s snippy comments and Alya pulling a “Gang of Secrets” where she’s suddenly 100% “on Marinette’s side” so that it makes it feel like she deserves whatever she’s going to be given). The show is both setting Marinette up to fail so they can continue having their drama (regardless of how well permanent Rena Rouge goes, they wanted to leave the episode on a cliffhanger) and getting on her case for breathing while rewarding other characters after they’ve failed.

Which, spoiler alert for the next episode, ends up working out, thus making it the “”“right”““ decision. Apparently Marinette is meant to suffer and be given all these consequences/embarrassment when she screws up, but people like Adrien Alya get rewarded and given a free pass to do whatever they want with no consequences (Marinette doesn’t even remotely get on Alya’s case or be upset that Alya made decisions without her; even Fu gave Marinette, Tikki, and Plagg a look in “Sandboy” and made them explain/apologize; but of course, that’s because Marinette was involved, I guess).

And... look, it’d be one thing for Marinette to want an understudy, or to want someone to have a permanent miraculous as a form of protection in case she needs it, but Alya wasn’t even suspicious when Senti!Nino didn’t give her their usual high-five. Alya claims to be this great reporter and tries to imply in “Gang of Secrets” that she suddenly knows all things about Marinette, yet doesn’t change her expression at all when the person she thinks is her boyfriend gives her a regular high-five instead of the one they made up? I guess the show wanted to give Ladybug something more after Alya and Kaalki did a chunk of the work, but if they wanted to present Alya as a worthy guardian, then that should’ve set off red flags, especially after the whole Ladybug reveal and Alya realizing that Lila’s full of it (which I know still hasn’t been shown but if she’s gonna be Ladybug’s confidant then she has to step up her suspicion game).

Like, I don’t know if they’re just trying to have Alya work off any bad things that the fandom might have on her, but with this episode and the next episode, it just feels like they want Alya to stay in the role that she had with Marinette: the “Alya knows best, is presented as a supportive friend, and has a leg up on Marinette in terms of mental/power dynamic.”

Because, despite knowing that she’s Ladybug now, Alya’s relationship with Marinette really hasn’t changed. She’s still forcing Marinette into situations with Adrien, she’s still got the doubtful eyebrow raise whenever Marinette does “Marinette things,” and Alya still has the, “I got you, girl!” attitude about everything, even if she really doesn’t have Marinette’s back in the right way. Heck, even the kwami (or at least Trixx) seems to go to Alya over Marinette, the kwami themselves just whining and behaving like children around Marinette herself.

At this point, why not just hand Alya the ladybug earrings and call it a day? If Alya’s not only an understudy for being guardian but is also apparently going to keep saving Marinette, she’s clearly “better,” and that moment with Senti!Nino ended up getting her rewarded, why not just let Marinette hand over the metaphorical mantle and be officially stress-free? Then Paris would have a “““non-clumsy, less emotional, less anxious”““ Ladybug.

Well, because that would mean lessening Marinette’s suffering and the show would be over without that. *sigh*

I don’t know, it’s just upsetting. It’s the "Malediktator”/”Gang of Secrets” thing where Marinette tries to follow something she’s been taught by other characters (who are presented as wiser than her) and it ends up blowing up in her face. “No permanent miraculouses” wasn’t her rule - it was Fu’s - and then the show immediately chides her for it.

Basically, Marinette tries to make her own decisions and it blows up in her face. Marinette tries to follow her own rules and it blows up in her face. It’s the love square all over again: she can’t confess to Adrien, but she can’t move on either.

That’s why “Optigami” is so insulting. It puts its double standards on display for the world to see and sets things up to go exactly the way it wants with no regard to making sense or working to an interesting story.

#category: salt #episode: Optigami #other: ask and answer #((Wanted to wait for ''Sentibubbler'' because ohhhh boy.))#((*sigh*))

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ajbwasntwriting · 3 years

Text

Daughter!Reader X Negan, Reader x Daryl: Chapter 8. Civil Unrest

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For all intents and purposes this is filler so the next chapter will be up in the next few minutes

I’ll only post more chapters if previous chapters get a good reaction so if you enjoy this please heart it, reblog it, and/or reply to it. Interaction inspires.

if you wish to be added to the tag list please dm me. All chapters can be found under the tag AJ’s Negan’s Daughter AU

In a few days you were up on your feet, your need to survive driving your fast recovery. As soon as you could sit up without nearly fainting and you could bend your fingers without much pain you started taking patients. Mainly burns and cuts. You kept your head down while working, adding to your intimidating reputation. They didn’t realise you were just trying to conceal yourself while looking for familiar faces. You rarely left the medical bay, even when it was icy cold.

Carol checked on you regularly, seemingly incredibly concerned for you. It almost pained you to suspect her to be out to get you. Luckily she seemed convinced that because you had been alone for so long that you’d take a long time getting used to the walls. Maybe she figured out that you were just biding time for leaving again.

“Are you okay?” Laura pulled you from your thoughts. You looked up suddenly, nodded, and went back to your reading. All these patient profiles from the previous physician were thorough. “Why would Emmett be this detailed with extremely basic medical care” you tought, then again he was a captive here just as much as you were. He probably had nothing better to do. “Are you sure? You look so serious.” She continued. You looked up to her. She was lying on one of the beds chewing on a piece of hard plastic. Having to keep a watch on ‘The New Doc’ would’ve been extremely boring.

“Just a lot of reading” you sat up and stretched your arms, not realising how long you had sat hunched over the hand-written pages. “Doctors have horrible handwriting and this guy sure likes to drag his point out”

“How bad is it?” She asked. You lifted the profile of another patient and followed along with your finger.

“The left Thenar has suffered tremendous infliction resulting in the loss of elasticity and possible avulsion of the tissue” You read aloud in a dramatic voice

“What?” Laura said, taking the plastic out of her mouth for a moment

“He pulled the muscle in his thumb, possibly tearing it” you flopped the paper down, rubbing your forehead.

“And all those pages are full of that shit” Laura pressed. You sighed with a nod.

“I never thought I’d be grateful to have done AP english.” you sighed

“Okay smart ass no need to show off” Laura chuckled, chewing on the plastic again.

“Please,” you sat back in the chair “My old man made me do it. ‘You already speak english so it should be a breeze’ he said”

“Those kind of parents?”

“You’re familiar?”

“Yep” Laura sat up, hunching over her now crossed legs. “My dad was a lawyer. Mom was an accountant. They kept pushing me to over achieve”

“Bet they weren’t happy with that” you spoke, pointing to your neck to reference Laura’s tattoo. Her hand went over it instinctively.

“I had already skipped town with my boyfriend before I got this.” She laughed. The smile melted away as she slowly stroked her neck. “Hadn’t seen them since. Probably dead.”

The room got a lot more quiet. It was crazy to think you both were so close in age but had gone through so much hell in the same world. But Laura was a saviour. You were Negan’s kid. If you were to be friends it would have to be at an arm’s reach.

The momentum changed when Carol arrived in, holding a small tray with cookies on them. The smell told you they were fresh. Your heart wanted to tell her to get out, but those cookies smelled too damn good.

“How’s the hard work going ladies.” she spoke with a cheery voice, setting the tray down in front of you. You were on it instantly. You took a cookie with you as you limped over to lock the door to the medical bay. “Any news?” Carol whispered

Carol had asked you and Laura to investigate the uprising of Negan supporters in the Sanctuary. Well, mainly Laura since she would know more people in Carol’s eyes. The payment, cookies. Though Laura would probably do it for free. She enjoyed the new peace that came with being aligned with the other settlements.

“Just the usual hot-heads” Laura sighed. You limped back to your chair.

“They like to complain to me.” you gently sat down. You’d only been back walking without the full splint for a couple days now but the clunky half splint on your lower leg wasn’t exactly walker friendly. “‘You should’ve seen how great we were when Negan was running the place’ and other shit”

“What do you think of it?” Carol asks you seriously. You suck the sugar off your fingers happily.

“He mustn’t have been that good if he’s not in charge anymore.”

They had their little meeting then as Carol was leaving you piped up,

“How’s the bridge team?”

“No.” Carol retorted quickly as if speaking to a child. “You are not going out there how many times do I have to tell you.”

“I could help-”

“You’re needed here Y/N” she spoke firmly.

“Yes, mom.” you groaned from your chair, earning a laugh from Laura. Carol left quickly.

“Why do you wanna join the bridge team so badly?” Laura asked through a mouthful of cookie.

“I miss the fresh air, I guess” and there’s more chances to get away from you all.

That evening you were restless. Normally it was the pain that kept you up late but it also exhausted you. You got out of the medical bed you’d claimed as your own, one of three that outfitted the med bay. You limped your way out of the medbay, not bothered if you woke Laura. The bathroom was down the hall so she would just assume you had to pee, especially since you had taken the torch dedicated to midnight bathroom visits. Being the medic gave you the luxury of a torch instead of matches and a candle.

It hurt to climb up so many stairs, with both your wounds and the cold seeping into your skin, but you’d be tired by the time you came back down anyway. You walked onto what used to be Negan’s floor. Your ‘family’s’ floor. You’d wanted to see it for a while now, out of curiosity more than anything else.

You first went to your father’s room. Pushing the door open you felt a burst of cold air whip around you viciously. The room has been stripped of its furnishings, right down to the carpets. Taken away to be burned most likely. The windows were shattered, the bullet holes in the ceiling giving away the method. It was so completely devoid of any sign of human life one would say it always had been. You closed the door and continued onto the parlour where the wives would spend their day. This room didn’t have windows but the room was still completely void of any of the glamour that once adorned it. The only remnants was the wall paper which was peeling off due to the damp.

The image of the forgotten rooms didn’t stir emotion in the way you thought they would. You imagined getting overwhelmed with emotion, but you felt nothing. No that wasn’t right, you felt a loss. Not a loss of the grandeur you had gotten to enjoy in captivity, not a loss of the fake smiles from your many ‘mothers’. You felt a loss of your father. You mourned the man you had called your father, and the idea that all that was left of the memory of him were these halls where cowards bowed to him. You felt an overwhelming realisation that the man you called ‘Pops’ had died long before ‘Negan’ formed.

Your final destination was your room. You figured it would also be empty but your room was a bit away, down the end of a hall few knew how to get too. You’d had more roaches as visitors than people. Your father had chosen it for you so the ‘common nobodies’ wouldn’t see you easily, another measure to keep you safe.

It also worked the other way as you round the corner and see a light coming from what used to be your room. The hall was lined with offices and storage rooms you knew you could dive into if someone appeared so you turned off your light and walked down the hall gingerly on your feet. You were now only a couple feet away from the door when you heard voices coming from the end of the hall, from what used to be your room.

“I still can’t believe they put this bitch here to keep an eye on us. That fucking redneck was an ass but atleast he didn’t pretend to be all fucking nice”

“It’s probably a play to get us to relax. They’ve got us locked in this factory and don’t give us nearly enough food, and they won’t let us go to the other settlements”

“We’re prisoners. They said they only wanted to lock up Negan but now we’re all starving.”

“Enough of your bitching.”

They went on to talk about how many people were on their side and their efforts to get weapons. They clearly had no idea you were listening. After all, what kind of idiot is gonna climb up over ten floors for no reason. Other than sentiment perhaps. It sounded like there were about four people in the room, but they spoke like they had a few under their influence. They were looking for weapons and a means to get back at ‘Rick and his posse’.

“We’ll bring them that bitch Carol’s head on a spike for them.”

“What about the bridge? We got people working there for food.”

“And then what? They’re just gonna keep extorting us for slave labour or let us starve.”

You were so drawn in by their words that the door opening startled you. You charged from your spot into an open room, a storage closet of a sort. You knew it was too risky to close the door so you stood against the wall next to the door. They walked along the hall bantering loudly. You sidestepped deeper into the room, knocking something with your foot making a loud metal sound. The voices stopped and you instantly froze, holding your breath like your life depended on it. A light shun into the closet, then the other way.

“Probably just a rat” one of the voices spoke. “We can set some traps and stew it for dinner”.

They continued down the hall, their steps growing faint a minute or so later. The adrenaline began to subside and the pain from the recent strain on your leg made itself very apparent. You stepped out of the closet and walked down the hall to your old room. Maybe they left some evidence you could use to barter for your freedom.

You opened the door to your room, only illuminated by the moonlight coming from the window. Unlike the other rooms, your room hadn’t been completely ransacked. The mattress had been taken off the frame but the metal skeleton remained as well as the rug under your bed. Other than that it appeared empty. You turned on your torch to get a better view.

On your bed frame lay what had to be near a hundred dead wild flowers. Your breath caught in your throat at the site. You moved and sat on the bed frame, the metal sending a chill up your body. You placed a hand on the dry stems and something hit the ground with a thump. You moved to look under the bed as quick as you could, reaching under the bed you cut yourself on something sharp. You moved your torch on it and grabbed it again, this time from a less dangerous end.

Under the bed you pulled out the knife that had your name engraved on it. The metal shun bright in the light as if lovingly polished until it’s inevitable abandonment. You hadn’t realized you had begun to cry until a tear fell onto the blade and began to fill the engraving.

~Tag List~

@bodeckersbitch @lauren-novak @aestthete

#AJ's Negan's Daughter AU #twd negan #negan fic #negan twd #negan the walking dead #the walking dead negan #negan x daughter reader #daughter reader #daughter x negan #daughter reader x negan #twd daryl #daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x reader #twd carol #carol peletier #the walking dead carol #twd laura

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snarkwrites · 3 years

Text

firstdate | greg sanders ; csi vegas [mature.]

Notes:

So.. this is kind of an AU take on my current CSI Vegas fic, trouble. You do not have to be reading that to read this though. Tis merely filth I wanted to write, from the standpoint that instead of them being thrown together and having to deal with a crazy ass ex... Sara arranges a blind date for them after they’ve met a time or two and she suspects they’re into each other. It’s kind of set around the earlier seasons too.

Ya’ll.. If anyone would rather read THIS VERSION... I’m highkey tempted to maybe write it at some point. Like... Minus all the crazy shit that’s going on in Trouble. It’d just be their run ins and stuff and then them getting together.. anyway.. I had to have this, so ya’ll must now suffer with.

Prompts:

None. Blind date / sex on a kitchen table could be considered, I suppose.

Warnings:

This content is not meant for minors. If you’re under 18+ this is not for your eyes. I warned you very clearly, right here. If you don’t like smut, you’re not going to want to keep reading.

As far as things you need to be aware of if you’re sticking around: unprotected sex ( why is it always my horny ass muses that never remember protection?) body fluids, dry humping in a movie theater...Pretty much it.

Other Stuff:

[ faq - tag list ]

Tagging:

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@twistnet

BLIND DATE.

“Okay. I’m here.” I took a deep breath, reaching for the handle on the doors that led into the movie theater. Taking a second or two to check myself over in the reflection of the glass as I continued to mutter to myself, “I’m here.. Now to see if this mystery guy shows up.”

Just as I went to step into the lobby and out of the rain, I felt a tap to my shoulder from behind. It was around this same time that my eyes locked on Greg Sanders, standing behind me. Flashing me a grin even though he looked just as nervous as I was.

I felt my cheeks start to burn under his intent gaze.

We’d only spoken a few times, mostly when I popped in to bring my sister food during her shift and on my break from dancing at the club. And those few times had been… Intense. To say the least.

There was definitely underlying tension between us. A heavy pull to him.

I’d never actually told my sister this, of course.

Which was interesting considering Sara was the one who set up this whole blind date for the night.

“Belle, hi.”

“Greg, hey.” my teeth caught on my lip and I turned to face him. He seemed to remember the single red rose in his hand and chuckling quietly, he held it out. I took it, smiling as I passed it under my nose.

He reached around me, his arm brushing right against my side as he pulled the door to the lobby open, letting me step inside. Stepping inside behind me.

,, I owe my sister for this. More importantly, how did she know? Does this mean he’s hinted about being interested in me, I wonder?” my mind was working overtime. My mouth wasn’t quite keeping up with it, because I wanted to ask just to clarify that I’d somehow managed to luck into Greg being my blind date tonight, but the words were stuck in my throat. I mean, logically it had to be him, he’d given me the deep blood red rose I held in my hand.

“So…” I finally managed a word. A weak one, but still a word. Greg chuckled. His eyes roamed over me slowly. Subtly. But not subtle enough that I didn’t know he’d just checked me out. He stepped closer as a crowd of noisy teenagers all decked out as characters from the horror movie I intended to see rushed past. His hands settled on my arms to hold me steady. I stepped closer to him. Flashed a teasing grin.

“Are you sure you’re up for this? I mean it’s a horror marathon.” I asked. Greg smirked, shrugging. The movement called attention to broad shoulders and I stared at him entirely too hard for a few seconds.

Like an absolute moron.

“ I’ll be fine. Are you sure you’re going to be okay though. Sara told me that you like horror movies in theory, not so much in reality.” Greg flashed a teasing smirk of his own. One of us stepped closer. Our bodies brushed right against each other and the end result was this electric jolt shooting through my entire body at lightning speed.

I pretended to pout. Walking my fingers up the front of his faded gray t-shirt. “I guess it’s a good thing I’m not alone tonight then, hm?” I practically purred. “For the record, I’m not that bad.” I gave a soft smirk, nodding to the line that was growing rapidly across the lobby for the movie we’d chosen as I grabbed his hand and started to make my way over to the end of the line.

I smirked a little as my eyes settled on our reflection in the plexiglass surrounding the ticket window and I could see the way he towered over me just slightly from behind. And yeah, maybe I couldn’t resist stepping back into him just a little. Enough so that our bodies kept contact. My smirk only grew as I saw him swallow hard. His hands settled on my hips.

And to anyone around us, we probably looked more like a couple out on a date than two people who barely knew each other on a blind date.

We’d gotten our tickets. Playfully arguing back and forth over the fact that I paid my own way as we drifted into the concessions area and got into line for snacks. I found myself drawn to the guy like a magnet, pressing myself back into him as we stood in line.

Snacks in hand, we started to make our way to the theater showing our movies. My hand found his, my fingers lacing through.

“I don’t really do the blind date thing often.. My sister didn’t like… guilt you into this, did she?” I had to ask just before we stepped into the room cloaked in darkness. Greg chuckled, raising a hand. Dragging it through spiky hair as he smirked down at me. “I was about to ask you if she guilted you into agreeing…”

We shared a laugh and my back hit the wall next to the door softly. Greg’s hand rested palm down against the wall, just beside my head as he gazed down at me. Intently. Like he wanted to say something, but he wasn’t sure how to go about saying it.

And then, finally… he did.

“I would’ve asked you myself, you know.” Greg chuckled quietly. This news had my mouth opening and closing as my brain tried to catch up to what he was essentially saying. I found myself pressing against him a little more. “You would, hm?” escaping my mouth as a quiet purr as he stared down at me and bit his lip, swallowing hard again and nodding.

“Mhm. I was actually going to. The next time you came into the station.”

I licked my lips, tilting my head slightly as I looked up at him. Toying with the front of his shirt as I continued to try and process what he was getting at. Stunned, because I’d never really thought that he felt the magnetism I felt. I’d actually had myself convinced that it was purely one sided. Or that he’d never actually be interested in me.

“I would have said yes.”

This time, he was pressing into me. Harder. I took a shaky breath, my eyes settling on his mouth. And then the flash of something in his eyes. The goofy smirk as his other hand squeezed my hip.

“I didn’t think you liked me.” Greg licked his lips, eyes drifting down to mine, settling on them. The end result was me, taking a few more shaky breaths.

If the lingering tension between us was thick before, it was downright smothering now.

But so was the excitement. And the sense of right. Calm. Like tonight at least, I was exactly where I needed to be.

“Honestly, same.” I answered, both of us sharing a laugh again.

My sister had managed to play both of us. The thought sank in. I made a mental note to really, really, really… Thank her for it later.

A throat clearing behind us had us laughing and disappearing into the darkened theater. We chose a seat in the back row and settled in. His arm slipped around the back of my seat and I leaned against him a little, our eyes meeting.

The theater went even darker and the opening scene of the movie began to play. Almost instantly, as the grainy black and white opening shot of Dr. Wolfenstein’s opening speech began, I dove my head down after a quiet shriek.

As quiet as one gets.

“What the fuck have I gotten myself into?” I wondered in a whisper against his neck, making him laugh. But pull away and look at me. “If you wanna leave, we can…”

“Oh no. No, I’m determined to prove my sister wrong. I can handle this.” I took a deep breath. Greg leaned in, whispering against the shell of my ear, “If it’s too scary..”

The look in his eyes as mine met them gave away clearly what he didn’t say. I nodded, filing away the suggestion. Then the body count started to rise. And what he’d told me came rushing to the front of my mind.

“Fuck fuck fuck. Fuck.”

“Hey Belle.” Greg muttered, making me look up at him. When I did, he gently gripped my jawline, guiding my mouth against his, the taste of soda and m&m’s and popcorn mingling as his tongue trailed over mine, tangling with it and taking total control of the kiss, catching me by surprise just a little bit because honestly, if I’d imagined kissing him, I was usually more of the aggressor.. I wound up turning to the side in my chair slightly, deepening the kiss. Slipping my legs into his lap as his arm settled over them.

That huge group of teenagers had pretty much abandoned ship twenty minutes in just when the movie was starting to get a little too gory because the girl dressed as Baby was full on sobbing and begging to leave.

We basically had the theater to ourselves at this point.

And that heavy tension?

Only getting hotter. Heavier with each second that passed.

It wasn’t long until my legs across his lap wasn’t easy or convenient for either of us. Greg chuckled as a particularly deep and intense kiss broke and we pulled away to breathe a little.

The movie was all but ignored by now.

Merely background noise at this point.

I spotted the weak beam of an usher’s flashlight and devolved into a fit of giggles, muttering against Greg’s neck quietly, “We’ve got an usher. Let me just face the front really quick.. They usually make a round and they’re done. Unless… you like the thrill of almost getting caught in compromising positions...” I flashed a teasing grin, a soft giggle leaving my lips as soon as I saw him turn just a shade red beneath the dim lighting.

I straightened myself in my seat and took a few long and shaky deep breaths to attempt even beginning to calm myself down.

That damage was done already. I was… beyond wet. A dripping mess at this point. Everything just felt so much more intense. Intimate. The way his hands felt all over me. The way it felt to kiss him to the point where we were both dizzy and needed to breathe but also, didn’t want the kiss to end.

“Do I want to know what that meant?” Greg chuckled. A teasing grin as we found ourselves staring at each other again. Still trying to catch our breath from the deep and heavy kiss ended abruptly just seconds before.

I raised a brow. “What? Like you never purposely chose a boring movie and the back row of the theater in high school? Half the fun is in only just barely managing not to get caught...” I trailed off and gaped at Greg in disbelief when I could tell by the look on his face that he had no idea what I was talking about.

And there I went, falling just a little more.

“I,uh.. It wasn’t ever really a big issue, no.” Greg laughed quietly, shaking his head. “ To be fair, I wasn’t ever Mr. Popular, either.”

I giggled, raising my hand to my mouth to stop the sound. “No. Noooo.” but the whole admission was so sweet the attraction I had to him before grew even more.

“You’re not serious.” I asked in a whisper as the usher finally made their way past us and out of the theater again.

He leaned down in his chair a little, leaning into me. Muttering against the shell of my ear, “I am, actually.” as he gave me almost a sheepish look.

“Jesus. Were girls at your school fucking blind or…?” I questioned, locking eyes with him all over again. The way his cheeks turned just a shade red beneath the dim overhead lighting only turned me on more than it should have. I glanced around the theater and then at the door behind us.

Spotting absolutely no one, I smirked. Greg eyed me, a brow raised as I slipped out of my chair and into his lap, facing him. Leaning down, catching hold of his jaw, tilting his face upward as I leaned mine in closer. Muttering against his mouth, “We have to change that. Like.. that’s an epic wrong that has to be righted, sir.”

Greg shifted in his seat and his legs spread slightly to give himself a little more room and to catch me if I started to slip off his lap, I guess. When he did this, I could feel him starting to strain against his jeans and I rocked myself right over it, burying my mouth in his even deeper to stop myself from moaning too loudly.

“Okay, so how does this work exactly?” he mumbled in a hushed and husky whisper against my mouth as his tongue swept past my lips, finding mine all over again. Gazing up at me. One of his hands going to my ass, squeezing. His other hand skimming up and down my side. I nearly whimpered again when he used the grip on my hip to rock me over the way he strained at his jeans harder. Pressing me down into him, sending a dull throb through my dripping sex.

My teeth latched onto his bottom lip, sucking. I rocked myself against him, baring down against his lap harder but it wasn’t enough. “It would’ve worked better if I’d worn a dress but trust me.. You know exactly what you’re doing.” I muttered as the soft smacks of our mouths meeting over and over again shattered the silence around us.

“Not really. Not when it comes to this...” he insisted. His fingers dug into my ass and his other hand tangled in my hair. He bucked himself against me when he shifted around in the seat a little. I gasped, my fingers digging into his shoulder, rocking against him just a little more. Hoping to ease the dull throb I was really starting to feel.

We pulled away to breathe again and I leaned against him, muttering against his ear, “For a guy who says he hasn’t made out in the back row of a theater before, you definitely know how to make a girl wet.” as I tried to collect myself. Tried and failed.

My words seemed to make him snap. He was shifting me around in his lap so that I pressed against the bulge strained hard against his jeans. The hand in my hair drifted down, disappearing between us. Settling flat against my throbbing cunt. Massaging clumsily because we had limited space to work with.

Our mouths met all over again with a ferocity that had me blown away. In awe. I’d always kind of considered that Greg was handsome. Quiet. Sweet.

I’d never really… Imagined he possessed the side he was showing me right now. Somehow, I got the feeling I was one of very few people -possibly the only one but i didn’t dare hope, who might have ever even seen this side of him and that thought turned me on even more.

“How wet, exactly?” Greg questioned, his gaze meeting mine. By now, any thoughts I’d previously entertained about actually watching the movies I’d paid to see was… A fleeting and distant memory.

I wanted him.

Hands and mouth all over me. Tearing my clothes off. Buried inside me.

“Fuck.” I writhed around in his lap. Desperate for more friction. Anything to ease the steady throb. The divine torment that was his hands all over my body. I reached down, grabbing hold of his hand. Guiding it back against my aching sex. He took a ragged breath when he felt the way I was just starting to soak through skin tight black jeans. Our faces bumped at one point, making us pull away to laugh. Getting lost in each other’s eyes all over again.

“Ya know, we’re not really watching this…” I mused, trailing my tongue gently over the outline of his mouth. Smirking when I felt him shiver and heard him mutter a barely audible “Fuck” under his breath as he gripped me harder and took a few shaky breaths.

“We’re not.” Greg agreed, a distracted hum as his hands roamed all over me. One disappeared beneath my shirt and I barely managed to bury my mouth against his fast enough to stifle the moan that got swallowed by the kiss when I felt his hand cup my breast, squeezing.

“We could leave.” I muttered as my lips ghosted down the side of his neck and I rocked and rubbed against the way he strained at his jeans all over again. Urgently.

The suggestion had him standing. Not bothering to untangle me from his body. My legs circled his waist, squeezing as he carried me out the door and then out a side exit of the theater since it was well past closing hours by this point.

The entire trip across the parking lot had us kissing, the kiss only breaking once we’d reached my car and I had to dig around in my pockets for my keys. Finding them in my jacket pocket, I slipped them into his hand after unlocking the car. Greg opened the passenger door, setting me down in the passenger seat. I pulled him down, his mouth meeting mine all over again. His hand settling between my thighs. Growling into the kiss as he rubbed my aching core.

“Greg, get me out of here.” I moaned against his neck as I rocked against the palm of his hand. He shivered slightly as my mouth dragged over the area, latching on lazily. Breaking the kiss to pull away and lock eyes with me.

“Your apartment or mine?”

“Honestly, whichever one is closer?” I pleaded, beyond desperate to be alone with him. He nodded, stepping away, shutting the passenger door to my car. I buckled my seatbelt, letting out a whimper to myself in the silence of my car as I watched him sprint around the front of it to get into the driver seat.

Once he was inside I was doing my best to lean across the console, our mouths meeting in another frenzied and deep kiss. My mouth strayed, roaming down the side of his neck, leaving another small mark behind. He groaned, tilting my chin. Making me look up at him. Giving me a teasing smirk as he asked in awe, “What am I gonna do with you, hm?”

“Whatever you want.” I answered, licking my lips as I held his gaze. His smirk only grew as he muttered thoughtfully, “Whatever I want is a pretty broad answer.”

“I meant it too.” I whispered softly as my mouth danced down the side of his neck all over again, making him shiver once more.

“I didn’t even know my neck was a hot spot.” he chuckled as he started to pull out of the parking lot.

By the time we were parking outside of my apartment, I couldn’t take another second. He killed the engine and I unbuckled my seatbelt, slipping over the console and into his lap. Reaching down beside the seat to let it back a little bit further.

He grabbed hold of my hips, rocking me against him as he pulled me closer. Bucking up into me from below as the tips of his fingers dug into my lower back and my ass. His mouth capturing mine in a frenzied kiss that he took complete control of, surprising me all over again. He leaned into me, putting my back right against the wheel of my car, making us both laugh when I accidentally pressed right against the horn and the noise shattered the softer sounds of our kissing and we wound up jumping apart.

Taking deep breaths. Trying to get ourselves under control even though we both knew it was a little too late for that.

His hand caressed my cheek as we leaned against each other heavily. My hand trailed over his chest, settling palm down against it. Fingers curling in the fabric of his button up. Itching to grasp and tug and send buttons scattering as I tore his clothes off.

Everything was so very intense. Vivid.

And yet, soft. Gentle. Intimate.

“Okay, if we don’t move this inside, my nosy neighbor is going to get an eye full.” I half muttered, ghosting my lips against Greg’s mouth. Making him grip me tighter. Nodding. He got out of the driver seat, sprinting around the front of the car. Throwing open the door on my side and leaning in, scooping me up as if I were light as a feather.

Oh, I had no doubt he was stronger than he made himself seem, but something about the way he did it and the little chuckle and smirk on his face as he did so had me soaked through in seconds.

My back met my front door with a soft smack and Greg was pressing into me heavily as he tried to be smooth and put the key in the lock without breaking our kissing and touching. Drawing a needy whine and a pout from me when he had to stop. Unlock the door.

He stepped inside my apartment, taking a minute to close and lock the front door behind him. Stepping over to the kitchen table, sitting me on top of it. My hands settled on his shirt and I tugged it apart, sending buttons to spray and settle on the flooring. He gripped the bottom of my shirt, pulling it up over my head, tossing it out into the room behind him.

With a quiet rip, my bra settled on the floor near my shirt and his shirt. My hand slipped down between us, fumbling with the button and then the zipper of his jeans as he started to work my jeans and panties down my legs. I let my heels settle on the floor with a quiet thud and kicked my jeans and panties free at the ankle and Greg grumbled about having to break the deepening frenzy of kisses to step away and pull off his shoes. He kicked his jeans and boxers free and stepped back into me.

My legs circled his waist, squeezing against. My arms wrapped around his neck and I gasped softly as our bodies molded together. The contrast, the way he felt pressed against me. Skin against skin. It was enough to take my breath away. His hands skimmed my sides, settling on my thighs. Squeezing as he slipped me forward on the table even more. Burying his mouth in mine all over again with a quiet growl.

Teeth scraping against my bruised and swollen lips as his tongue separated them. Sinking his cock into me carefully. Slowly. Going still to let me adjust. His mouth latching onto my neck as he left the first of quite a few sizable marks behind on my skin. His grip on my hips tightening as he pumped in and out of me, a little faster. Slowing down when he felt me starting to shake a little and melt into him.

Tilting my chin as he mumbled softly, “This is not how I saw tonight going.”

“Me either.” I gasped, gripping his jaw, pulling his mouth against mine as my legs clenched his sides and my heels dug into his ass, driving his cock into me even deeper, making him strike directly against my spot. Sending a shiver racing through me that had him smirking against my mouth. Slamming into me all over again as he questioned, “You liked that, hm?”

“Yes.” I moaned out, my head falling back as my eyes fluttered open and shut and I tried to fight off a fast approaching orgasm.

Greg slowed to a stop, his hands and mouth all over me. Touching and kissing every patch of skin he could get his hands and mouth on. Locking eyes with me as he mumbled quietly, “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

“Have you seen a mirror, sir?” I purred as my mouth crashed against his and I tried to rock my hips to meet his deep drives, eager to get off. His hands squeezed my hips, bringing my movements to a halt as the kiss broke and we pulled away to breathe. He leaned down, his forehead settling against mine as he caressed my face. “Not yet.”

I pouted, pleading. “Please?” I gasped out as he started to fuck into me all over again. Slower. More deliberately.

His grip on my body almost bruising and yet still somehow gentle. Careful.

“I’m not made of glass baby. Harder. Please?” I begged breathlessly. He slammed into me harder. Deeper. Groaning against my skin, “You feel so good. So good.”

“Greg!” my cry pierced the air as he muttered against my mouth, “Fuck… Belle. Baby, let go.” and he didn’t have to tell me a second time because as his hips snapped against me frantically and he buried even deeper inside, I went smashing over the edge, my orgasm ripping through me, making me cling to him and try to come down from the high, clenching his cock, flooding it. Which sent him straight into his own orgasm, throbbing and filling me up. Pulling away to stare at me before burying his mouth in mine until the kiss was so deep we were both dizzy.

“You don’t have to leave tonight…” I asked hopefully. He chuckled and shook his head. “No. Do you want me to stay, Belle?”

“Very much so.” I melted against him, giving a sleepy smile as I went in for another kiss....

#greg sanders fanfiction #greg sanders one shot #greg sanders imagine #greg sanders fanfic #greg sanders oneshot #greg sanders imagines #my writing ; greg sanders #my fanfics ; greg sanders #my one shots ; greg sanders #my fics ; greg sanders #my fanfiction ; greg sanders #// absolutely no one under 18+. this is not for minors #// tw unprotected s*x #// tw body fluids #// tw dry humping

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liddolwhynot2000 · 3 years

Note

Hey! So, I was wondering if I could get a levi x reader where the reader runs the tea shop levi goes to to get his tea and they slowly become friends before realizing they’ve fallen in love with eachother?

Aiii one of my first fic supporters ⭐ I'm so sorry for answering this so late. But I got you.

Here we goo. I hope it lives up to your expectations! @dove-music

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Apricity

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Summary:

After all, Levi had gotten into a relationship.

With a woman who baked cookies and drew his face on them for fun.

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Pairings: Levi/Reader

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Genre: fluff, romance, Levi-does-not-know-romance, kinda funny

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If Levi had to pick any place in the world that gave made him feel something akin to contentment, it would be the little tea shop that was a 10 minute walk from the Survey Corps.

It wasn't some big, fancy cafe, overcrowded with civilians and soldiers, like other establishments were. A small, cosy little shop in the corner of the street. The shop made good business, he could tell, with its modest furnishing and quality to tea.

He had stumbled upon it in a dire time of need- right after losing his beloved friends to titans. He had accepted that he would stay in the survey corps but he hadn't been willing to make friends at the time. He didn't want to get drunk with his fellow soldiers, or visit brothels. He had just wanted some quiet.

Levi had been walking along the street by himself, in the dark, when he had stumbled upon that cafe. It had been on a whim that he had decided to go inside and actually order something.

He would try to convince himself that it was a one time thing, that he was simply trying some of the luxuries the surface had to offer. But one time turned into two, two turned into ten and so on.

He was rewarding himself with good tea, Levi told himself, that was why he kept coming back. He fought titans for humanity, the least he could do was use his paycheck to buy himself a nice beverage every once in a while. It was treat to himself.

The sweet owner of the cafe had nothing to do with this. Nothing at all.

Yeah sure Levi nobody believes you

Shut up four eyes or else-

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'Sir, here you go.'

'.. I didn't order this.'

Levi looked at the plate set infront of him with indifference, although a part of him wondered if it would taste as good as it looked. It was a chocolate cake slice, with some sort of white cream on it.

'It's on the house sir.'

He looked at you, feeling bewildered at the sight of your smiling face. Was this sort of shit normal in the surface? Just giving each other food? There had to be some sort of catch right?

'.. What do you want?'

You blinked at him in confusion.

'Er- nothing sir. We sometimes give free meals to customers. You're the lucky customer this week.'

Levi felt compelled to ask one more time.

'So I owe you nothing for this?'

'Absolutely nothing.'

'Right... Thanks.'

There was no more clarification he could ask for, not when you had used that firm tone. You excused yourself and walked away, leaving Levi to his treat.

Huh. The people here weren't so bad after all.

Maybe he would come back to try some more dishes later.

It's not to see you again hell no stop it Hange- it's NOT-

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He later finds out that you're the owner of the cafe. You could just hire help and let others manage the cafe, but you prefer handling it yourself. Levi can't help liking that- so many people would just sit on their asses, but you're actually working hard.

He doesn't get around to going to the cafe again until a month later. It's after a grueling expedition and he's beyond irritated with everyone. For some reason, they've started calling him 'humanity's strongest' and frankly, Levi finds it to be a dumb title.

Becuase even with all his strength, he hadn't been able to save everyone.

Wanting to get away from overeager comrades and a sugar high Hange (somebody give moblit a raise poor boi), Levi decides to head to the cafe.

Yet again, you're the one who welcomes him. He silently thanks you when you seat him in the corner of the shop, an area where hardly anyone would see him and he wouldn't have to see anyone else. You had perhaps understood from his uniform and exhausted face that he wasn't in the mood to deal with anyone, so you had hand him the menu and quietly tell him you'll be back in five minutes.

Once you get him his chosen tea, you also quietly leave a plate of another desert with it. This time, Levi doesn't bother asking questions. He nods at you gratefully before allowing himself to indulge in the delicacy infront of him.

He can't help but want to ask your name.

Aww Levi you drew a heart on that paper with her name on it-

No what the fuck YOU drew that four eyes-

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He frequents the cafe at least twice a month for the next five years. It's become a tradition of sorts, going there after a tiresome mission, enjoying a meal made by you. You don't always let him have food for free of course, but it's often at a discounted rate. And as someone who has never enjoyed any privelege whatsoever in his entire life, he guards the special consideration you show him close to his heart.

The two of you don't interact much at the start, but Levi notices you. The way you give your workers decent time off, how you don't hesitate in offering monetary help or letting someone take the day off, even if it means you're overworked. He hasn't talked to you much, but he has a good opinion of you. He finds you fascinating, the first speck of kindness he's seen in his life, since Isabel and her desire to free a bird. Levi doesn't bother approaching you directly, because he doesn't even know what to say.

The two of you have a full interaction six months into his routine, the day Levi accidentally stays till its closing time. It had been good luck on your part--that when the drunk garrison soldiers had stumbled into your cafe will less then innocent intentions, Levi had been there to deal with them. As far as the garrisons were concerned, it had been the worst night of their lives. No amount of alcohol would ever be enough to make them forget what had happened.

Look at you, so protective of your woman even then-Levi where did you get that knife from--wait no - Erwin HELP-

He strikes a tentative friendship with you after that. You had been beyond thankful for his intervention, knowing you might not have made it out with your life if he hadn't been there. You made him cookies the next day, coming all the way to headquarters to give them to him.

Much to his despair, you meet his self proclaimed friend--Hange, and the two of you become friends too. He tries not to mind it, however, the day Hange flashes a cookie with what is clearly his frowning face drawn on it, he has to be held back by five soldiers from throwing Hange out the window. He marches to cafe, intending on letting out his ire at your insolence. But somehow, he doesn't tell you off like he had planned. Instead he finds himself asking you about your baking and art skills-even he would admit that the drawing of him had been spot on.

He does ban from making them again. You honoured it, until the two of you became good friends. Suddenly, every holiday involves at least one tray of grumpy Levi cookies. Even Erwin had enjoyed them, much to his exasperation. It had lead to his vow of never trying one.

They tasted amazing, I really think you should have tried them- OUCH that hurt shorty-

It doesn't take long till he finds himself purposefully visiting at closing time, knowing you'll just make yourself make a meal too, sit nearby and read a book. You engage him in conversation at times, telling him about the books you read. The two of you bond over food and fictional stories. He let's his walls down for you, little by little. You end up becoming the first person he let's in, his first friend, since the death of Isabel and Farlan.

Levi likes to think they would have liked you.

It's nice, spending time with you. You don't look at him like he's some God with all the solutions, like his comrades do. You aren't in some high risk career where he'd have to worry about you dying. You're stable and peaceful, exactly where you are.

Everytime he sets out for an expedition, he mentally prepares himself for not making it back without at least half his cormades. When it comes to you, his friend, he has no worries. You're safely tucked away in your cafe, out of reach from the titans grasp.

'friend' sure Levi, you write love letters for your friends.

Four eyes where the fuck did you get those from, give them back-

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It's a peaceful day, as evidenced by the birds chirping and general pleasant atmosphere. One could say the weather is perfect. Just the right amount of sunshine shining in the streets, children enjoying themselves, chasing each other.

Even Levi is in a good mood. Of course, his good mood is amplified by his current location. His favorite cafe.

He's sitting inside, but the windows are open, letting in fresh air. He has a nice cup of tea on the table, with a plate full of sandwiches. You were seated in front of him, drinking some tea so sweet he could smell it.

You're telling him about a book, how you've analysed its villainous characters. He enjoys listening to you, often finding your ability to guage complex characters with relative ease to be startling. It makes him trust you more, knowing that no matter how fucked up something occurs, you wouldn't take it at face value.

You wouldn't judge him like that.

The two of you are interrupted as the bell chimes and someone enters the cafe. It's a young man, maybe in his 20s. He's dressed well, a white shirt with a brown vest on top. You put down the book down and smile as you go to greet him.

Suddenly, Levi doesn't feel as peaceful as before. He keep his eyes to his tea but his ears are perked up as he listens to you chatter with the man.

'Hello. Its been a while eh?'

'It has. I've been in Wall Sina getting some work done. Finally finished it, those damn nobles ask us for way too much-'

The man places an order for a bag of biscuits, ones you had already made. You give him a discount, which Levi smugly notes isn't even half of what he gets, and he tells you he has to leave soon. Levi's relieved really, he doesn't know what he's feeling, but he knows he doesn't like him.

'.. Maybe next time, I could take you out on a date...'

Even though you gently reject the man, who takes it well, Levi can't stop frowning. Once you take your place in infront of him again and continue your explaination, he turns his attention back to you and tries to brush off that feeling in his gut.

But it doesn't work.

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When Levi had been taken in under Kenny's (questionable) care, he had learned a lot of things from the man. How to hold a knife, how to break bones, make deals, the sex talk that Levi would like to never remember etc. Kenny had taught him plenty of life skills.

However, his methods had been crazy to say the least. More often then not, Levi found himself on the recieving end of sparring sessions where he was sent flying into trash cans and expected to get up and attack again. Kenny had been ruthless, but it had been for his own good. He wouldn't have survived that hell hole otherwise.

Levi recalled a specific moment in his early days of being with Kenny all too clearly. He hadn't fully understood why Kenny was making him train like this, and frankly, he had been exhausted being treated like a punching bag. In his anger, he had yelled at Kenny, half crying, about how his mother would never let him get hurt like this and how much he missed her.

Kenny had stared at him blankly for a minute once he had finished, and with the speed of lightning, the man had punched him in the stomach.

It had been extremely painful, taking his breath away. Kenny had then proceeded to beat him senseless--telling him what would happen if he wasn't strong enough with each blow.

He would always remember that pain for the rest of his life. Nothing had ever come close to it, or at least that's what he had thought.

But right now, sitting at his desk late at night, Levi feels like Kenny had punched him in the gut again. He was, yet again, experiencing a feeling he would never forget. It wasn't pain, but it's intensity was just the same.

Love.

..sittin in a tree, K I S S I N- AHHH

Section Commander, are you okay!? How did you fall down the stairs??

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Levi and the rest of the soldiers had the night off, and while usually he was more inclined to simply stay away from their parties, he allowed his squad to drag him. It had, as expected, turned out to be a mistake. Everyone had been too drunk. Especially his squad.

When Olou began singing, Levi listened with mild amusement. His voice actually hadn't been too bad.

When Gunther and Eld began drunkenly trying to dance together to his singing, he might have actually smiled while drinking his beer.

When a very drunk Moblit collapsed next to him, muttering about that crazy four eyes, Levi decided to put his foot down and end the party. With Petra's help, he had carried Moblit to his room. The poor man had muttered the entire way there, mostly about Hange and Titans and needing therapy.

The punch in the gut, figuratively, had taken place on his way back to his room. Courtesy of Petra.

He hadn't noticed it, which had been stupid of him in hindsight. His ginger haired comrade had been harbouring feelings for him- feelings he knew he didn't return in the slightest. He had turned her down as gently as possible, not expecting her to loop her arms around his neck and beg him for one night together.

'... Please captain, just one night. If you still feel the same in the morning, I'll never bring this up again.'

Maybe in another universe, he would have said yes. After all, despite the age gap between them, Petra was rather beautiful. And any man would want to enjoy a night with her.

Alas, the moment she had looped her arms around him, his breath had suddenly left him, as though Kenny had punched him in the gut again.

He wasn't seeing his ginger haired cormade leaning into him, confessing her love to him. He was seeing you, your hair in that messy bun, that sweet smile, saying all those words. Practically begging him to make you his.

The moment Petra repeated her statement again, however, the vision fell apart and he pushed her away. After a firm rejection and some tears, he wandered back to his office, feeling dazed.

Sitting down in his chair, he had stared mindlessly, thinking about you.

You and your sweet words. Your obsession with reading. Those special discounts for him. That gentle smile. Even those absurd grumpy Levi cookies you baked.

Levi was a Capricorn--and capricorns were practical people. Rational. And in the interest of being practical, Levi decided to admit his feelings to himself. It would only drive him crazy if he didn't.

He was in love with you.

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In his thirty something years of living, Levi had never been in an relationship. He had been too busy navigating the dark realms of the underground, trying to find enough food to eat. He hadn't cared for sex either, too traumatized by Kenny and his (shudder) talk. By the time he had gotten older and more stable, he had been so disgusted by the flithiness of the act, that he didn't even bother seeking out partners.

Which was why, here was, in love with a woman who probably deserved better then him, unable to do figure out what to do. Should he tell you? Or just keep it to himself? He wasn't sure if you felt the same, but the part of him that was in love with you knew he'd die happy if he held even the smallest part of your heart.

He was at a loss really. Maybe he could find a book about this crap.

Kenny's voice rung in his head for a few seconds, before Levi shut it off. He would rather die single then get a girl using Kenny's advice. He could do better then this. Maybe Erwin would have a book, there had to be somewhere the blonde bastard learned his charm from.

... You gotta be upfront kid. If you want her to be yours..

Levi wouldn't listen to Kenny. No. There was no way...

.. Don't beat around the bush brat, just tell her...

...he would do as Kenny had advised him to.

... Kill her if she doesn't like you back okay..

Okay that wasn't happening. Even if some of it sounded like it made sense, he still wouldn't do it like Kenny would.

No.

Freaking.

Way.

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The next day, Levi silently wondered if his mentor was still alive. If he was, Levi resolved to stab him in a heartbeat. Because he just knew, that if Kenny could see him now, he would laugh his ass off.

After all, Levi had gotten into a relationship.

With a woman who baked cookies and drew his face on them for fun.

And it was all because he followed Kenny's advice.

Goddamit.

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A/N: This ended up being longer then planned whew. My fingers were numb at some points, bc I wrote this in 3 straight hours. I hope y'all liked this! Am I the only who thinks grumpy Levi cookies would be amazing? I had to give Kenny a role in this, it was too tempting not to. Overall, I liked this one alot. I actually have a plan in mind involving this Levi and reader, which I'll hopefully write soon. Till then, take care everyone!

#AOT #Snk #Levi x reader #Levi ackerman #Levi AOT #Romance #Levi does not know romance

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howtowhumpyourhiccup · 3 years

Text

Winter Whumperland Day 6: Mistakes

Summary: Written for Winter Whumperland Day 6. Set in a Modern AU, follows up on Day 5 'Animals'. As they arrive at their destination for the trip, Hiccup manages to slip away long enough to tell someone where he is.

Rating: Mature

Characters: Hiccup, Eret, Viggo, Ryker

Pairing: Vigcup, past-Hiccstrid

Words: 7 768

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Prompt: “Branding”

Whumpee: Hiccup

Author’s Notes: Please read the tags.

I think this is the darkest fic I've written to date, which Day 6 probably taking the cake. (Unless a future Day tops that and I may now which one, but that is just my opinion) I think this counts a dark fic, doesn't it? I've surprised even myself! I've had a dark fic in mind that I've been working on, never thought I would write this one before I finish that one!

Constructive criticism is appreciated! Including on the tags! I tried to tag everything under the sun, but I might've missed some.

Enjoy!

I almost want to tag this as a coffee shop AU.

@amonthofwhump

Ao3

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Hiccup is ashamed to admit that he's quiet the rest of the way. As they sail towards their vacation destination, he thinks of his friends, his parents, Gobber, Toothless, and White Spot, too.

Will he ever see them again? He won't if he doesn't get away from these two madmen, because submitting to Viggo simply isn't an option.

He certainly tries to persuade him. He can see that Hiccup is quieter then usual and he wants to make use of the emotional turmoil he must be going through after being told how this little trip can possibly end. He's even quiet compared to his time spent in the basement and his ribs were broken back then, not allowing for much breathing space.

There's an empty look in his eyes as Viggo tries that he quite likes. It's quite promising, he finds, and so he's been persuading him with promises of letting him leave the house once in a while. They have a big yard, they can let him sit outside for a few minutes. So long as he does it quietly, of course. Cars still pass their home on occasion, so they can't let him make too much noise.

And maybe, when he's really good, they can even let him call his family or that blonde girl that clung to him.

They can spin a little story, make it seem like Hiccup's been found by them, the Grimborns, after having been missing for years. But only after it's been years. Surely by then, they'll have conditioned Hiccup enough to not leave them and not betray them. They can even give their tale the exciting twist that Hiccup now forever clings to "his rescuers". So that when Hiccup is given the generous opportunity to see his loved ones again, they won't be too suspicious when he inevitably chooses to stay with the man who rescued him rather than the people who lost him.

It's a horrible, horrible thing, truly disgusting. The worst part is, Hiccup is actually tempted by the sweet, sweet promises. He doesn't look forward to the years more of pain and misery, but he does so long to see his friends and family again. But the fact that more suffering seems more tempting than fighting that suffering is just one more reason why he can't submit.

The whole reason for them being here is to get him to do just that and if he submits, he's lost.

The steady decline of trying to physically oppose his abusers followed by the decline in opposing them verbally until all that remains is secret rulebreaking that was never secret to begin with, actively using Viggo's desire for him to save himself from hurt or the threat of returning to the basement, not correcting those men at the party when they told Viggo how lucky he was to have Hiccup... These past months have been a gradual descent to a broken spirit.

Hiccup can feel the cracks desperately trying to glue themselves back together again. He wasn't aware of it until now, after this kick while he's down, but they might've been trying to ever since he got to see the light again. The cracks were already there, they've always been there, and they can't put themselves back together. Every time they try, more of them appear, and all the more impossible it becomes to lose the pieces.

Something else that makes it difficult to keep this fight up is that Viggo can actually be called nice for once.

Of course, Hiccup is smart enough to figure out that this is just another ploy to manipulate him. Viggo knows he's close, he just needs to reel him in.

Besides the empty promises replacing the very true threats, he hugs him when he feels lost. It's nothing like the forced cuddles after sex and Viggo isn't an affectionate man either, which makes this one feel almost sweet.

How easily he sinks into the hug frightens him. How he lies his head on his shoulder and feels the tears burning in his eyes frightens him.

Though he never wants to be touched by either man, especially not the younger brother, this is the first time he realizes how deprived of affection he's been throughout it all. The sex was empty to him, when it was consensual, and besides that, there were only bruises, broken bones, and burns. His blistered hand itches terribly underneath its bandage.

In that moment, he begs for his father then. He wants him to show up out of nowhere and pull him out of this nightmare. Or maybe his mother can come down with a dragon and whisk him away back to the sanctuary. Either way, he wants them to come for him before he's lost forever.

In the final minutes of their trip, Viggo holds him, and then they land on the docks of a snow-covered fishing Town by the name of Port.

It's small and Viggo has probably chosen it because of how small and remote it is. Maybe he hopes the news of a missing 19-year-old hasn't reached this place yet or maybe he hopes the sudden appearance of a clearly very rich man scares them out of being nosy about the oddly dressed person with them.

Because just before they dock, Viggo releases him and a pair of sunglasses are shoved onto the bridge of his nose and the hood of his hoodie, and then his coat are pulled over his head. It's to keep people from recognizing him and the Grimborn's presence is supposed to scare them off. One brother rich, the other clearly trouble.

Hiccup says nothing as they dress him up in this little disguise before they land and leave the boat after anchoring.

The docks are busy. It makes sense, their biggest income comes from fishing and not the tourism their beauteous little landscape would probably attract. On a more normal day, Hiccup would appreciate the view of the mountain in the very back with the vast and wide forest at her base, but this isn't a normal day.

But he's not quite as gone as the Grimborns seem to think he is, because he notices that neither of the two is holding him. Have they been lulled into a false sense of safety by his quietness? They couldn't even drive him to the boat without blindfolding him and tying his wrists together.

But then, aren't many criminals caught because they made a mistake?

Unfortunately for them, Hiccup sees an opportunity and he takes it.

"HI- HENRY!" By the time he hears that fake name, he's already disappeared into the crowd of fishermen and dock workers.

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

Minutes later, he can finally breathe. Crouching in a little alleyway between two buildings, he pants and attempts to recover his lost air. It's not easy to run with a prosthetic, but his is self-made and it was made with the intention to allow running. There's a system with a spring to allow a bit of ankle movement, too. Can't chase unruly dragons if he can't run, can he?

He dares to peek around the corner, staying low and not quite leaving his safe haven behind a trashcan, but he sees neither Viggo, nor Ryker.

Are they... gone?

Overwhelmed by the feeling of relief, he sits back against the wall, staring straight ahead of him.

No, this can't be real. He can't have really just escaped, right? This has to be some sort of prank or a joke. It can't have been that easy.

But he checks again, this time daring to peek out a bit farther, and he still doesn't see either of them.

They're gone. And not just at work gone, they're gone gone!

He feels emotional and it's so easy to lose himself in that emotion, but if he doesn't get back up and start moving, they won't stay gone for long. That's the only reason why he manages to get back up on his feet and face the public outside of the alleyway.

Scanning his surroundings a third time, the people who pass him by are staring, but he gets why. He's wearing sunglasses in the middle of the Winter in a small town that probably isn't used to much.

So he gets moving and wonders what his next move is.

They've only traveled along the shore, can he grab a cab or travel back by bus or train somehow? Though, there is the problem that those options require money, which is something he doesn't have.

The police? No, he feels strangely distrusting of them after their failure to find him for so long.

The hospital? That means finding out if Port even has one and if he can navigate his way there before he's caught.

But then he comes across a little story, a fishing and bait shop, and something promising catches his attention through the window.

A poster with his face on it. A missing person's poster!

He walks in urgently, nearly ripping the door off its hinges in his hurry, the bell above it jingling loudly, and removes the hood of his coat.

Unfortunately, there is only one person present in the story and he, a man with black hair tied back in a ponytail and a blue tattoo with meaning on his chin, he doesn't look at him with the most welcoming of frowns.

Can Hiccup blame him? Who comes into a calm store in the middle of Winter with sunglasses and a hood on? And nearly breaks the door on his way in, too! Still, he doesn't waste any time as he makes his way to the counter.

"Listen, Bub, I don't know what you're planning on doing, but if it's trouble you're looking for-" The man speaks with an English accent, but he's cut off when Hiccup reaches him.

"Please," He begins, removing his sunglasses and pulling the other hoodie down. "You need to help me, I'm-"

But he barely needs to say anything, the second he reveals his face, that of the young man's changes to one of shock and he whirls around in his spot, immediately searching for and finding the poster hung on the store's bulletin board.

"You're him?" He asks, pointing first to the poster and then to Hiccup. Hiccup nods, happy that someone recognizes him. This man, Eret he reads on the nametag that is a sticker on his sweater, recognizes him.

"You're actually alive? I followed the news, they said that they caught the guy and that they were sure you were dead because the guy wasn't giving up where you were!" He talks to him and Hiccup finds that to be news to him.

"If they caught the guy, then who have I been held captive by since June?" He asks, quietly sarcastic instead of loudly sarcastic like before, and runs a hand through his hair in frustration.

Is that why they never came for him? Because they just put someone in jail and called it a day?

"Please, you have to help me. The people who kidnapped me, the actual people responsible, they want to kill me!" As if he wasn't already alarmed enough before, he certainly is now. But Eret seems to take it in stride and nods understandingly.

"Don't worry, you're safe here." He tells him, briefly grabbing his fist to squeeze it reassuringly. He draws back and pulls his phone from his pocket. "Do you want to call the cops?"

His thumb is ready to dial, but Hiccup hesitates and thinks of the likelihood of them showing up when they arrest some guy and then assumed he was dead just because they couldn't be bothered to actually solve his case. The media attention hounding them for answers must've annoyed them instead of urged them to find some.

So Hiccup shakes his head.

"Can I have your phone for a sec instead?" He asks and Eret, figuring he might try to call someone who can be of actual help, decides to hand it over after unlocking it.

"Thank you," Hiccup thanks him and leans on the counter to spare his stump his weight for a moment. He sags in relief, holding a phone without consequence for the first time in forever. With Eret here, he already feels a bit safer.

But Hiccup doesn't immediately call for help, instead signing in into the first social media account he can think of to find the first person with an account he can think of.

Astrid.

Perhaps, the smarter idea would be to call his dad or someone who can come get him. Maybe he could've called his mom to tell her where he is and maybe then the "whisked away by dragon" dream isn't so farfetched after all.

But that's not what he does and he can't quite explain why he didn't either. He'll kick himself for it later, but all he wants is to see his friends.

When he finds Astrid, he notices that her head has changed since the last time he's seen it. It's no longer her and Stormfly, now it's her and him. And as he scrolls through her page, she hasn't posted much of her usual stuff, instead there are just pictures of him and pleads for any tips. He's always known that she has a library full of him, none of these were taken without his permission.

So he's right about one thing. His girlfriend and friends have been looking for him in one of the few ways they think they can. And his dad, well, he doesn't have an internet presence, but he doesn't need one for Hiccup to know that he hasn't given up on him yet either. He hopes so, at least.

There are those emotions again, he must be tired.

Eret watches him, sees him wipe at his eyes with a sleeve quickly to avoid spilling the tears they both know are there. There are blue bruises surrounding a cut on his cheekbone and staining his jawline. It appears his left hand is bandaged, too. Even without the context of the escaped abductee, Eret can still tell he's been through the wringer and so he walks away from the counter.

Hiccup hurriedly looks up, too alert.

"You want something to eat while we wait? Something to drink? We only have snacks, but I think they"ll keep you going until we can get some actual food in you. You want a coke?" Eret asks as he stands before the fridge, wondering if he can lift his spirits with a little food. He does look awfully thin.

"That would be great, but I don't have any money on me." Hiccup informs him that he can't pay for anything for the time being. Turning to a different screen on the smartphone, he quickly finds the call function with the intention of dialing his dad's number.

"It's on the house!" Eret opens the fridge to take a coke from. Next on the list will be a candy bar and he'll probably go for the one with the most calories.

Hiccup smiles at him and for once his smile isn't forced. It's small, but it's certainly there.

Behind them, the door to the store opens, and the little bell jingles. Eret barely responds to it, it's a sound he's heard so many times before. In his search, he disappears behind some shelves.

"You own this place?" But Hiccup looks over, taking his eyes away from the phone, away from the number he's only just dialed a mere three numbers of.

He finds them and he can tell by the built and the clothes who it is. He doesn't need to see his face to know, his bald head covered by the hood of his jacket. And as he spots something gleaming in his hand, he simply freezes in place.

This store is too small and Ryker is upon him too soon.

"No, I don't, my dad runs this shop, I'm usually out at sea. So it won't be a problem, I'll take care of it!" Eret replies to Hiccup's question, completely unaware of what's transpiring before the counter. Behind those shelves, he isn't quite close enough to hear or to see what's going on.

Ryker's too close to run away from without making a scene and the brothers hate making a scene. If he does anything stupid, the man kind enough to help him out will get hurt. Eret doesn't look particularly weak, but Hiccup knows Ryker isn't and he doesn't want to take any unnecessary risks. Not when someone else's life could depend on it.

The tip of the knife pushes into his stomach, threatening to pierce his coat with ease. It certainly looks sharp enough for the job.

"She hasn't been in your sight for a few days and you already forgot her? Don't think that just because she's in a shelter that she's safe." Ryker is so close Hiccup can smell and feel his breath as he whispers in a growly voice.

He did think that White Spot being out of the picture meant that they couldn't use her against him. Apparently, he was wrong.

"And what's worse, dragging an innocent man down with you, are you? You better be quiet and follow my lead or your new boyfriend is going to die in a mugging." Ryker threatens him with Eret's life If he takes the money from the register, people are probably not going to link a presumed mugging case to a kidnapping case. And if there are cameras, well, Ryker isn't so stupid as to leave those intact.

"You're-" Hiccup wants to tell him that he and Viggo are sick for playing with the lives of a two-month-old cat and an innocent, but Ryker raises a finger in warning and he quiets down.

"Hiccup?" Upon not receiving an answer, Eret returns with an armful and lays eyes on the other man, too.

He'd welcome him, as he would any customer, but he doesn't like the close proximity between him and Hiccup.

"What's going on here?"

Ryker wraps a strong arm around Hiccup to pull him against him and the young man jumps when he can feel the knife be pushed into his lower back now. It's with such pressure that it makes him gasp in discomfort.

"You'll have to excuse us. My brother's partner here thinks he can get attention by pretending to be that poor missing boy. Not the first time, he's been in and out of institutions for years. He's an addict, too, so please don't be angry with him." Ryker uses the fakest voice he can muster as he excuses Hiccup's behavior before he pulls him along.

"Hiccup-" Eret is ready to jump in, but Hiccup stops him.

"It's Henry, actually. And he's right, I should be going." It hurts to accept that false name for his own, no matter how briefly, but he feels like he needs to. It's bad enough that White Spot's sole purpose in life is to be used as leverage, he doesn't want Eret to get hurt just because he made the stupid decision to go into the first shop that had his face in it.

Eret doesn't give chase when Hiccup is pulled out of the store, he's left to watch them go. The jingle of a bell has never sounded as ominous as it does at that moment.

"Maybe making an addict out of you wouldn't have been such a bad idea. At least addicts don't run." Ryker growls into Hiccup's ear and he can't help but feel like he talks out of experience.

Inside the store, Eret leaves his armful of delicious goods on the counter. His gaze is still on the door and he debates running after the two all the same. He's weighing his options, how risky would that be?

But then he notices that Hiccup left his phone and picks it up.

"He never even got to call anyone." Unlocking the screen, he notices a partial number. He takes a screenshot of it, maybe it can still be of use later, and then swipes the phone app away to see a stranger's social media page.

"Astrid Hofferson?" He reads out loud and sees the number on one of her posts asking for tips.

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

Maybe asking Eret for help was a mistake, maybe the decision to go with Ryker was the mistake, either way, Hiccup can't say he regrets it. There were too many uncertainties in that situation, too many risks, he feels like he made the right choice.

After a... reunion with Viggo, they take their bags and stuff them into a rental car. It's the nicest and most expensive one Port has to offer and it makes Viggo sneer in disgust, but it'll have to do.

While Ryker has seemingly calmed down a bit, as a matter of fact, he almost appear expecting something, Viggo's anger is so thick it's palpable. The whole ride to their destination, there's pressure inside Hiccup's chest, a pain, and it's difficult for him to keep breathing. And while neither brothers are chatterboxes, the silence is unusual even for them, and that makes the storm brewing on the younger one's face all the more concerning.

What is supposed to be their home for the next two weeks is a cabin far, far outside of town. It, too, is way below the younger Grimborn's usual taste and it further rubs in the fact that this vacation isn't supposed to be a vacation.

The second they enter and the door closes behind him, another hit, this time on his other cheek, and a pair of hands wrap themselves around his throat.

"No!" That is all Hiccup can choke out before his airways are closed off and he's pushed into the nearest wall.

"What about last chances did you mishear, Dear?!" The temper flare Viggo's been holding in on the way here bursts free and he squeezes.

Ryker watches for a moment with little care, only glad that Hiccup isn't getting out of this without consequence, and he's soon off to find his usual room. Viggo may think this place beneath him, but Ryker quite likes it.

"N... n-" Hiccup would respond, except he can't. He can't draw a single breath and he can't exhale one either. His lungs are burning to do both, the pain in his chest worsening. All he can do is try to remove those hands from his throat and that's hard to do with one hand burned. His good foot is standing on its toes, too.

"What do I have to do to make you submit to me, you stubborn boy!" Viggo shouts. He would squeeze harder if he could without irreparably damaging something important and it's taking him everything to hold back just that.

"St... st-" Hiccup continues to try, pulling on his abuser's hands, attempting to curl his fingers beneath Viggo's without luck. He's begging him to stop, face red, teary-eyed, and saliva with nowhere to go building up in his mouth.

Is this how he's going to die? By being strangled to death? Surely, Viggo isn't willing to give him up quite yet? Why put all these months in him just to throw him away?

Black dances at the edge of his vision, threatening to consume him. He wants air so badly. He wants the pain to stop.

And then Viggo's glare softens lightly as an idea comes to mind. His eyes fall on the fireplace on one end of the room.

"Ryker, light the fireplace. I may have an idea." His hard gaze goes back to Hiccup, who is only moments away from losing full consciousness, while Ryker returns and does as he's told.

Hiccup passes out soon after, the hold on his throat relinquishes and he crumples to the ground.

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

When he comes to, it's to his hoodie being pulled on, alarming him.

"No... No-no!" He croaks out a protest, weakly attempting to pull those hands away from him now, but in his current state, he's no match for them.

He's pinned to the ground on his front by Ryker, his face pressed into the wooden floorboards beneath the fire.

"Oh, stop your struggling, you know it's pointless." He tells him and Hiccup can't reply to that, his throat in too much pain. The hurt inside his chest is horrendous as well.

"Please-"

"If you want to be let go, then either you undress for us or we'll have to use force," Viggo says, crouching by the fire. What he's doing there, Hiccup doesn't know and can't see, but it's can be good. It sounds like he's playing with the fire, poking the wood inside. Is it a fire poker?

Hearing no more protests from him, Ryker releases him and Hiccup somehow manages to get up on his knees. He glances towards Viggo and what he's holding doesn't seem like a fire poker to him, but he can't see the entire thing.

"I'm waiting, Hiccup, don't test my patience any more than you already have," Viggo warns him and, reluctantly and with difficulty, Hiccup does as he's told and slowly removes both the hoodie and the t-shirt underneath. At his belt, he hesitates.

The clothes they made him wear, he's just noticing that they're the ones he wore the day he was abducted.

What a time to notice that.

"That's enough. Now, back to me." Viggo tells him, standing up with the rod he holds as it's glowing a bright orange. At the very end, there are the distinct letters of 'V.G' and they're the brightest part of all.

With horrible dread does Hiccup realize that they plan on branding him. Him! Like cattle! Like property! As if they couldn't treat him like any more of a personal slave, they want to do this to him.

"No!" His throat hurts as he speaks. When he makes a move to stands up, Ryker is quick to take an arm and twist it behind his back, making an end to his futile attempt to escape.

A cry rips out of him, worsening the pain. He can squirm and writhe, but all it does is convince Ryker to test the limits of his elbow. Cringing, Hiccup can feel the joint's want to pop apart.

With just this move alone, he's completely restrained and Ryker grabs his hair with his free hand and pushes his head down.

Though never an overly prideful kind of person, Hiccup had dignity at some point. That seems to be gone now as he has no problem begging them not to do this to him.

"No, please, not that! I'll behave! I swear I'll behave this time, just don't brand me! Viggo!" He hates those words, hates that they even need to be said, that he needs to beg for something so inhuman to not be done to him. His voice comes out hoarse and there are cracks with every other spoken word.

But Viggo doesn't care to listen to his pleas. While the iron is hot, he comes to stand by him and with one swift motion does he choose a spot and presses the branding iron on his right shoulder blade.

The feeling of flesh searing away is instant and Hiccup screams. Whitehot agony sets his nerves ablaze and they scream with him.

Viggo holds it there for a second, two seconds, three, until a total of five have passed and that's when he removes it. Those five seconds felt like an eternity and Hiccup's life has been changed all over again.

He doesn't need to see it to know that it's there, he can feel it on his skin. He's been branded to be someone's property and after everything that's already been taken from him, Viggo might as well make him something akin to furniture.

The figurative cracks bleed and they give up on trying to fix the damage.

Ryker releases him and Hiccup brings a hand to his arm, folds over, and cries, his forehead pressing into the floorboards.

He's been defeated. What more needs to be done to him to prove that? He never stood a chance.

Viggo stands over him with a smirk, certain that his young captive has finally been broken.

"Get me the medical supplies, Ryker, we don't want that to get infected." The younger brother tells the older one and he leaves to search the luggage for them. They'd certainly come prepared for this.

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

"If you'd just been smart and stayed out of trouble, this could've been avoided," Viggo tells him sometime later as he puts the finishing touches on the dressings covering the fresh brand. Honestly, Hiccup has no one to blame but himself. If he hadn't been so stubborn, this wouldn't have been necessary.

As for the brand, it's been properly cooled, cleaned, and there's a healing and disinfecting salve on it. All that remained were the dressings and Viggo has been applying them gently.

They're sitting on the bed they'll be sharing together for the next two weeks and he's faking being nice again. He's acting like a net, there to catch Hiccup at his lowest moment thus far, like he was on the boat. Like he was the day Viggo let him see sunlight again.

Hiccup doesn't respond to him, which is quite fine with Viggo. He usually has an answer for everything, very annoying, so silence from him is a good chance of pace.

The dressings are in place and Hiccup doesn't shy away when a kiss is placed on the back of his neck, his hair moved out of the way. The hand stays on his neck, thumb rubbing his spine.

In as much pain as he is, Hiccup doesn't even feel the usual cold shivers those touches give him.

But then thick lips come down on him again, meeting with his hair, the skin on the back of his neck, and then his shoulder. They're placed deliberately slow and Hiccup can feel his heart sinking. He can already tell what's about to happen, what his wanna-be owner wants from him. The same thing he's wanted from him since the very beginning, that which he's used as a shield more times than he'd like to admit.

"Lie down on the bed, on your front." Viggo growls into his ear, this time not in anger, but in desire. His hand caressing Hiccup's back and coming too close to the overly sensitive area surrounding his shoulder blade, he can only listen.

He kicks his shoes off, brand pulling beneath the dressing, and removes his prosthetic before he gets further up on the bed. He lies down, his arms wanting to wrap around a pillow only for him to yelp when the initials on his back don't agree with him. So now two letters have more say over his own body than he does.

That hand returns to his back and he can feel its fingers tracing his spine upwards, going ever so slowly until they reach his hair and then they go back down. Going lower and lower, they reach his belt and that's when they leave.

He can hear the other remove his shoes, a belt that isn't his be undone, and then he's straddled. All he can do is bite into the pillow and hope it'll be over soon. That is how his first evening on this trip ends.

The fight has entirely left his body.

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

The next morning, Hiccup is certain he's finally been broken. The brand and last night's sex, if it could be called that, after he thought for a short moment that he was free is what it took.

Every single day since he's seen sunlight, he's had to wake up at 5 am, every day without fail. While Viggo showered and went on with his morning routine, Hiccup was expected to lay his clothes out for him, make the bed, and then make breakfast. Every single day.

So imagine how strange it must feel to wake up and see that it's light out. It's winter and so the sun shouldn't even begin to rise until after eight. Have they let him sleep in?

His head is heavy, his everything is heavy, and the brand, while still painful, doesn't burn quite as much as it did the night before.

Reaching for the watch on the nightstand, he sees that it's 11 am and that is even more troubling. And yet, Hiccup can only decide to take whatever punishment must be awaiting his tardiness. What's the point of fighting it?

He gets up and dresses in the same clothes as the day before. He doesn't know yet if he's allowed to shower or even wash up, so he attempts to ignore how uncomfortable he feels, feeling sticky with sweat and whatever else, and he finds his way to the living room and then the kitchen.

As he walks, he doesn't feel like he's the one doing the walking. He doesn't feel like he's entirely awake either, though he's certain he is. It's like he's stuck somewhere between reality and a dream.

When he finds the kitchen and the Grimborn Brothers, it's not him who tells them good morning with a sore throat and a barely audible voice, and neither of the two even mention how long he's slept in.

On autopilot, Hiccup leans down and presses his lips to Viggo's in a good morning kiss. There is no feeling behind it, certainly no love, not even the slightest hint of something akin to like. Though he's almost certain good morning kisses used to have a spark to them once upon a time, in a long distant past.

They talk to him, like they would talk to a person, and Hiccup doesn't hear himself respond, but he does. He's too out of it for the words to reach him, though it's him that they leave.

He's starving, but he gets to work on lunch for the two older men first. Because that's expected of him, because what he is to them, what he was taken to be, was nothing but free personal labor. A one-dimensional companion with a select desirable attributes and personality traits. Someone willing to give it up for free and without complaint whether he feels like it or not.

A slave, that's what they searched for in him, and a sex slave is what Viggo was specifically looking for. One they could have the pleasure of personally destroying until nothing was left. One Viggo could occasionally play chess with if he wanted to.

The thought should hurt, but if it does, his mind is too far away to realize it.

Are minutes passing? Before he realizes it, lunch is over. Ryker has left while Viggo is with him as it's his turn to eat, their hands together on the table. And then lunch is over and he's unpacking their stuff while they're each off doing... he can't remember what Viggo told him.

Hours are passing and it seems like time is no longer a concept he can perceive as it goes by like a blur. It seems like his mind and his body have separated from one another, though still very much in touch.

The day goes by and he can barely remember it, though it still somehow goes so agonizingly slow. He sits around for most of it, only leaving his designated spot on the couch when he's told to go do something.

Somewhere inside of him, the very notion that he's been broken saddens him, but he's all out of tears to shed. And even if he shed some more, who would care? Viggo would see it as more proof of his victory. He'd use it against him, comforting him as he'd done on the boat and after the branding. And Ryker, he would just find amusement in it after all the trouble's caused them.

It isn't until evening creeps up that he seems to be snapping out of his trance. He's been washed by then and it's like he's waking up from an hours-long slumber.

It's time for dinner and as Hiccup is finishing it up, the brothers are sitting at the table waiting for him to be done. They're talking, almost completely ignoring his existence. Or rather, Ryker is talking and Viggo occasionally hums in response while not bothering to actually listen.

Ryker is complaining about having had to go through all of this and needing to travel all this way just to break one person.

"I told you, Viggo, you should've stuck to female. If he were one, he'd be knocked up and known his place already. Like a woman would." It's a disturbing thing to say and Hiccup feels sick to his stomach, almost counting himself lucky that he was born a male.

And now he finds himself thinking about the phrasing Ryker uses. "should've stuck to." Hiccup has had his suspicions, of course, but this means he definitely wasn't the first. And this cabin that is Grimborn property, but has gone unused through most of the year as it is far beneath their standards, and where he would have his last chance to become theirs for good, is probably a murder cabin.

Does that mean all those previous people, mostly women, but without a doubt, there were men amongst them, too, have they all been buried here? With these two, Hiccup doubts they were even allowed to identify as themselves under their roof.

No longer paying attention to the food, his gaze goes downwards and sticks to the wooden floor. Are they outside? Or is there someone beneath his very feet?

"Henry!" Viggo uses what is apparently not only a fake name for in public, but also a new and permanent name. He has to stand in a hurry to shut off the stove, the fish in the pain falling apart and burning to a crisp.

To do so, Hiccup is shoved aside and the pain falls, landing on his toes.

"Oh fuck!" A yell leaves him, his foot off the floor as a terrible pain radiates from the limb. It's cast iron, so he can expect his toes to be broken, if it's just that.

This must be the universe spitting on what remains of Hiccup haddock. What else could this possibly be?

"It's your own damn fault for being such a clutz." Ryker can't stop his chuckling. "Another reason why we should've stayed with girls, Viggo, at least they know how to cook."

"That is so insulting." Hiccup mutters as he leans on the kitchen counter, he doesn't even realize that he said anything.

But then, he's not supposed to speak unless spoken to or unless explicitly given permission. Like a dog told to bark on the command, but to otherwise keep silent.

Ryker stares at Hiccup in surprise. Meanwhile, as Viggo was trying to salvage their dinner, he stares at his pet project, too. Only then does Hiccup realize he's spoken. Those were just four simple words, but they rock all three of them.

"What was that, my Dear?" Viggo challenges him to repeat himself, to show if he's brave enough to speak up again and prove that he isn't quite as there as they first thought he was or if he'll prove that he's mistaken.

Looking up to him, Hiccup can feel his heart pounding in his ears.

"I'm-I'm just-just-I'm just saying that-that it's... that's it's- you know- sexist to think of women in such a way." Hiccup can hear his thoughts shouting at him to shut up, to finally, for once in his goddamn life, keep his trap shut if he doesn't want a repeat of last night.

But the words are out before he can stop them and his sentence isn't a mere four words like his previous one.

Does that mean... that he isn't as broken as he felt like he was?

"I suppose thinking you could still come around was a mistake." Viggo is surprisingly calm as he speaks up again. There is the undeniable undertone of anger, however.

Ryker recovers quickly, figuring he isn't entirely surprised by this turn of events.

Hiccup hasn't been given them sass for months for nothing, after all, even he recognizes that. To date, Hiccup's been the most troublesome one by far. Viggo's methods have been much too damn slow. Him and his meticulous planning... If it were up to Ryker, that boy would've been broken long ago.

But the laughs. He laughs because this means only one thing.

"You see this, Viggo? You know what this means, don't you? We get to kill that boy, after all!" He laughs, almost relieved with this surprise.

When the laughter abates, Ryker grabs Hiccup by his hoodie.

"And after we ride ourselves of you, it'll be my turn to choose your successor and I've had my sights set on a pretty lass for months already." Once again he's in his face, close enough for Hiccup to feel the spit on his skin.

Who? Who is this girl that's going to be next?

"Remember that girl of yours?" At the mention of Astrid, his eyes grow wide and he grows colder than he's ever felt than in all the time he's spent with them.

"Blond, pretty, good curves, tits, and ass, if there's something I can respect you for, it's that you have good taste. And when you're dead and buried, we'll be taking her next." Never in all his life, no matter how short it's about to be cut, has anyone ever dared to sum Astrid up using only her body.

"And don't you worry, I'll take good care of her as I personally make sure she's broken before her first month is up. I'll tell her all about y-" When Astrid and Ryker's apparent plans with her are brought up, it sparks something inside of Hiccup he thought he'd lost. The urge to punch someone in the face so hard that they lose a tooth.

So the biggest proof that he can still get up while he's down no matter what, is without a doubt when his reaction to such a horrid thing is to follow up on that urge and punch Ryker in the jaw with such strength and anger that he ends up flooring a man bigger and stronger than him.

It is... such an invigorating feeling.

"Don't you... Don't you dare talk about her like that. I don't care what happens to me anymore, but don't you dare think about hurting her, my friends, or anybody that I love the way you've hurt me!" He warns them, growing louder with every word to the point that he's shouting.

And it feels so, so good.

He wants to cry and this time out of pure relief, out of the sheer overwhelming flow of emotion coursing through him.

For once, Ryker is the one too frozen to move. Never has he been flattened by anyone before, let alone someone like Hiccup, who is looking all too energized by his achievement.

But while his attention is entirely on the elder of the two, the current object of his hatred, it's the younger one to takes action before Hiccup can get any more ideas. He uses the fallen frying pan and lifts it high before bringing it down onto his skull.

The pain erupts, but it disappears quickly as Hiccup passes out, temple connecting with the kitchen counter on the way down.

Either way, it's suddenly black before his eyes.

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

"Abysmal." Breaking the silence for the first time since they started playing, Viggo does so with an insult.

"You're not the most supportive of winners, are you? You could've at least given me an "you did your best, kiddo!" instead if giving me that." Hiccup isn't a sore loser. He can be a bit of a boastful winner at times, but he's not a sore loser. Still, when that is what he gets to hear upon losing at chess, again, he does feel a little sore.

Viggo is a very critical man, it seems.

"I would never say such a thing. You have to earn it first and your poor chess skills make me nauseous." Hiccup rolls his eyes, feeling even sorer.

His left leg is up on a chair, complaining after being on his feet all day. Maybe Astrid was right and he should've listened when she told him to come home with her. An evening with her and Snotlout, maybe even Fishlegs and the twins if they feel like coming over, definitely sounds 100 times better than this.

But Viggo is clearly a lonely man or he wouldn't be spending his after work hours on a young adult who can barely play the game he wants to play with him.

He pulls his phone out, realizing what time it is.

"I'd ask Viggo, the greatest chessplayer of all time, to teach me some of his tricks, but it's almost 11 and I haven't eaten anything yet. Astrid's going to kill me if I don't go home now." He tells his opponent, missing, the dangerous disappointment on his face. He misses it as he's texting Astrid to come to pick him up.

He's perfectly capable of walking himself home, but Astrid clearly insisted on her and his friends coming to get him, so he listens. She can get a bit overprotective of him at times ever since the whole Dagur incident and he hates worrying his loved ones.

The text message sent and slouching in the chair, Hiccup looks up to Viggo as he cleans their game up.

"A great chessplayer never just reveals its secrets, Hiccup." He tells him when he finishes and their eyes meet. "But you would do well to learn from him if you intend to survive even one game."

"Now if you'll excuse me, I believe I need to head home myself." With the folded chessboard and work briefcase in hand, he takes his leave.

As he reaches the door, Hiccup briefly stops him.

"Sometimes being smart isn't enough, Viggo. You'll see, someday my stubborn butt will beat you!"

Hand on the door, Viggo takes a moment to look at Hiccup, who will, without mercy, roast someone so badly they'll need an actual burns unit, but somehow can't bring himself to say the word "ass." He's a funny one, for sure, and Viggo only holds so much weight to his words.

"Goodbye, Hiccup." He tells him and exits the coffee shop.

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thiswasinevitableid · 4 years

Text

Third Time’s The Charm (Indruck)

Prompt for the 10th was: stiches

“I ain’t sure what you thought was gonna happen. That canopy is fuckin dense.”

“In my, ouch, defense I, ow, only crash landed in one percent of futures, OW!” Indrid cuts off into chitters of pain as Duck continues stitching up his shoulder near his wing.”

You know, Duck had been hoping someone from home would visit him out here in Brazil. He just wasn't expecting the mothman to be the first one to show up.

And he really wasn’t expecting him to crash to the ground near Ducks small cabin that he stays in when not in the field. In spite of his wing clearly bleeding, he’d told Duck to hurry into town to head off yet another fire. When Duck came back two hours later to find Indrid trying to stitch up his wing using the bathroom mirror and a very odd contortion, he ordered him to sit down on the closed toilet seat so he could do the damn thing right.

He’s halfway through now, Indrid’s feathers making things tricky. The Sylph staying in this form until it was over, since his pain tolerance is higher when he’s not human.

“Thank you for not insisting on taking me to a hospital.”

“The closest one is an hour away and I don’t know enough Portuguese to explain the mothman to a doctor.” Duck adjusts his stance slightly so he’s not blocking the light he needs to work, “gotta say, for all your chirpin, you’re doin pretty damn well.”

“As you pointed out, one cannot go as ‘mothman’ to a hospital. And after documentation became more common, it became harder to produce identifying documents that wouldn’t raise too many questions. One gets used to home surgery and unpleasant infections.”

Duck raises an eyebrow, concerned by the last part of that sentence.

“Do not worry, Duck Newton, I know enough healing spells that it has never become an issue.”

“I mean, that’s good to know but Indrid, that ain’t no way to live.”

“Perhaps not. But it was often the price of helping prevent disaster. Or trying to.”

“You helped us a hell of a lot in Kepler.”

The Sylph hums in acknowledgement, hisses as Duck pulls the last stitch through. He stays quiet as Duck bandages him. Awkward silence is broken only by insects and the occasional bird, and a question taps at the back of Duck’s skull.

“I, uh, I thought you were goin back to Sylvain. Handin the job off to Leo and all that.”

“I considered that, and Leo is welcome to use his foresight as he pleases. But as I told you on our first meeting, I fell in love with earth. I have been away from Sylvain for a long time. I searched for a solution to her decline for a century. You and the others solved it in one-hundredth of that time. So it is not as if the kingdom will welcome me back as a hero. And I do not want my old position back. No, Duck Newton, if I am going to be a failure, have my warnings ignored, I may as well do so on the planet I like better.”

“Now, hold on-” Duck wants to argue, but Indrid swivels his head, red eyes as disconcerting as they were when they met. He looks very sure of his conclusion. More than that, he looks tired.

“Your question had a dual purpose, so I will answer what was implicit; you want to know why I’m here and not somewhere else.”

“I, uh, I mean yeah, but I ain’t-”

“-trying to be rude, nono, I do not doubt that. I came to you because the fire I foresaw would be as bad, if not worse, as the one you are helping undo the damage from. And it is easier to stop disaster when I don’t have to waste time making someone believe I can really see the future.” He stands, taking up half the bathroom, “thank you for your help. I will put on my glasses and be on my way. Can I trouble you for a ride into town?”

“No, I mean yeah, but jesus christ Indrid, you crashed. I just finished stitching you up! You oughta rest up some.’

Indrid cocks his head, “Yes, hence the trip into town. I can rest there until my wing is healed.”

“You got no one to tend those stitches, and I got a couch that ain’t bein used.”

“But you do not want me here.” He barely sounds hurt, just resigned, and somehow that makes Duck feel worse than if the Sylph was crying.

And a little annoyed.

“Did I say that?”

“No. But we were hardly close friends, and what is more you have spent a great deal of your life with aliens popping into your space unannounced. Where is she, by the by? I thought she was coming with you.”

Duck sticks his hands into his pockets, staring down as he shrugs, “forestry ain’t exactly her area of interest. And, uh, once the trauma-bondin’ wore off, think we both needed some time to sort some things out.”

Indrid stares blankly at him a moment, and then he chirrs, “You’re lonely.”

“Hey I, I’m uh, I- how the fuck did you know that?”

“You said so in some futures.”

“Are there futures where you accept my offer and get your fuzzy ass on the couch before you pass out?” Duck doesn’t mean to sound grumpy, but Indrid just bumped into two sore spots in Duck’s psyche.

Oddly, Indrid snickers, “I forgot how stubborn you can be. Very well, I accept your offer of the couch.”

By the time Duck gets back with a spare pillow, the Sylph is asleep, chirping peacefully.

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

“What are you doing?”

“GAHfuck”

“Apologies.” Indrid only looks partially sorry, his human grin wide when Duck glares at him.

“That some sort of Sylph silence spell?”

“No, just years of practice trying not to be heard in the halls when I was seer.”

Last Duck saw him, he was still asleep on the couch, mumbling and chirring in pain when Duck changed the bandage. Duck would like to say that’s all he remembers, except there was a moment after he finished and Indrid’s eyes fluttered open as he sighed out a “thank you.” And that sight, the way Indrid looked in the morning light, safe and trusting, had tugged at his heart.

“May I keep you company? I am not in much of a state to do much else, even watch futures. Hitting my head tends to do that.”

“Uh, sure. I’m on my own for the mornin, not sure how excitin it will be.”

“I wish to know everything.”

Duck’s about to make a crack about being careful what you wish for when he gets a good look at Indrid’s face. The Sylph is grinning eagerly and is even flapping his hands a bit as he speaks.

“I want to see what you see in this jungle.”

So Duck shows him, everything from the saplings they’ve chosen to the creatures darting in and out of view. Indrid asks questions and makes excited noises, but mostly he listens, lets Duck talk or not as it pleases him. They’ve been in a stretch of silence when Duck turns and guffaws.

Indrid, sitting on a log, is covered in butterflies, some as big as Duck’s hand and in all colors of the rainbow.

“Guess they know a relative when they see one.”

The Sylph beams, “I was wondering how long it would be before you noticed.”

“Wait, did you summon them?”

“No, they just sort of...do this. It may be for moth reasons, or perhaps I have eaten so much sugar they smell it in my pores. I was, however, hoping they would join me, because I foresaw it making you happy.”

That same affection sparks in Duck’s chest.

“Alright, you heard enough from me today. Now I wanna know all about what you been doin since the world didn’t end.”

Indrid tells him about his attempts to stay in Kepler, his promise to Stern to not get photographed too much, his relentless teasing of Barclay for falling in love with the agent. His travels to other states to stop disasters, newly energized in his successes in Kepler.

“If you can call them that,”

“I’d say you can.”

Indrid holds out his hand, studying the speckled butterfly perched on it, “You renewed so much of my belief that things could change. At the cottonwood, when you promised me you’d find a way to stop what was coming, stop the sinkhole I...it meant a great deal. Even if your method of freeing me was rather, ah, abrupt.”

He rubs the back of his neck, “Yep, not my best plan, but it worked.”

“The bruise only lasted nine days, it was worth it in the end.”

Duck shoots him a playfully hurt smile, “Hey, don’t make me feel bad, I apologized.”

Indrid raises an eyebrow.

“Oh fuck” Duck tugs his hat down over his eyes, “I didn’t, I never fuckin apologized for punchin you.”

“In your defense, there were more pressing matters.” There it is again, that resignation. Duck wants to yank it out of Indrid’s tone and stomp it to bits. Instead, he steps forward, rests a hand on each of Indrid’s biceps.

“Indrid, I’m so fuckin sorry. Even if it helped save you, I’m sorry you got hurt again and it was me that did it.”

“I…” Indrid closes his mouth, opens it again, repeats that motion before managing, “I did not see that reply coming.” He smiles a new smile, small and secretive, as if he’s been given something precious, “thank you for saying that, Duck.”

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

“I see why they call it a rainforest.” Indrid stares out the window as drops batter it.

“Yep.” Duck zips up his raincoat, smirking at the bundled up silver haired man, “guessin you ain’t joinin me?”

“I do not enjoy wet weather. Though if you want company I can oh, no, never mind.”

Duck’s radio crackles, and a quick conversation informs him that the conditions at the current reforestation site are too swamped to get anything done.

“Guess I got the day off. Uh, what do you wanna do?”

“I planned to draw and track futures, but I foresee you offering to teach me a card game, and I prefer that future.”

They end up on the floor by the couch, since Indrid seldom sits in chairs in a normal way anyway, mug of coffee in front of Duck and tea with half the sugar jar in front of Indrid. Duck teaches him several games, and as they play Indrid gets going on a tangent about his stint as a cardshark in Las Vegas, and the years he relied on hitchhiking to get around. Duck tells him about growing up in Kepler, about all the years between turning eighteen and now, the ones that plenty of people in his life treated as irrelevant to his life story.

They end up playing and talking until nightfall. Duck knows he should head to bed, that he has work tomorrow, but he doesn’t want to stop hearing Indrid’s laugh or seeing him scribble down futures.

He misses him when he goes to sleep.

Around eleven, his body makes an executive decision and he nods off leaning against the couch. He wakes up a few hours later to fluff on his cheek and comforting weight across his chest. Opening his eyes, he finds his head is in Indrid’s lap and a large black wing blankets him.

Even in his sleep, Indrid is terrifying in this form. At least, that's the argument his brain makes; Indrid is huge and alien, dangerous when he wants to be.

His heart disagrees. There’s nothing to be scared of. Indrid is his friend, wants nothing from him other than to get to know him. He’s soft, that helps, and clearly thinks of Duck as someone worth protecting. The sleep chirping is pretty fucking cute, too.

Red eyes open, two nightlights in the dark cabin. Indrid’s antenna are twitching and he’s clicking the claws of his upper hands together.

“Apologies, you sort of nodded off while we were talking and I caught you when you tipped over. I felt odd carrying you to bed, and this form seemed better to lay on, and then you started shivering so I put my wing-oh.”

Duck rolls over so he’s on his side, facing Indrid’s fuzzy abdomen, “Not complainin’, ‘Drid. Just adjustin’.”

He shuts his eyes, and for a moment clawtips trace his hair.

“Goodnight, Duck.”

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

He’s been living with Duck for three months now. Far too long to count as “recovery” and thoroughly pushing the definition of “vacation.” Indrid doesn’t want to go. And Duck doesn’t want him to either, if his actions are any indication. He’s fixed up the one spare room to be a guest room, includes Indrid in planning out the week, including planning a few day trips on the days he isn’t working. It's as if he wants Indrid around.

(It’s as if he wants a future with him).

Indrid can no longer attribute it solely to loneliness. Yes, Duck misses his friends and family, but he clearly gets along with his fellow rangers and the other staff on the project, and in that very Duck way of his has become a regular at places in the nearby town, having enough Portuguese to ask the woman who runs the cafe about her grandkids or the mail carrier how his garden is doing.

Which means he’s keeping Indrid around out of pity, charity, or genuine affection. That the last option even exists makes Indrid want to take to the sky in celebratory flight.

He’s been alive a long time. He knows what a crush feels like, and he knows that's what he feels for Duck. He also feels it deepening into something else, and if he could be sure the ranger felt the same he’d tell him in an instant.

His crush is not helped by the fact that Duck asked if he wanted to go for a weekend in Porto Velho and how they’re here, on their second night, at a spot that's a little fancier than Indrid is used to, with Duck looking extra-handsome across from him.

Come to think of it, Duck’s looked rather more put-together all weekend, even when they were in parks rather than museums (at the former he’d laughed when Indrid was alarmed by the far too big fish, and at the latter he seemed like he was actually listening when Indrid talked about art).

Duck keeps fidgeting during dinner, and Indrid suddenly understands; this is a farewell weekend. He’s going to ask Indrid to leave, is trying to soften the blow.

When Indrid declines dessert, the ranger actually frowns with worry, covers it by jokingly asking if Indrid is sick. By the time they get back to the hotel, Indrid is so nervous he can't get the timelines to cooperate in his mind, and so he decides to be proactive.

Duck doesn’t turn the lights on, inclining his head towards the balcony. Indrid follows him out into the night air, the city bathing them in light from below and the moonlight cascading down to meet it. Indrid leans on the railing looking out. Duck leans next to him, so close Indrid can count the laugh lines on his face.

“This has been a wonderful trip, thank you for bringing me.”

“Yeah?” Duck’s face brightens, borders on excitement as he turns his body slightly towards Indrid, “I’m glad to hear that. I, uh, worked real hard on plannin it for us.”

Indrid nods, glances back out towards the cit, “I will be out of your hair as soon as we get back ho-, to, ah, to the cabin.”

Duck’s entire frame crumples inwards, “Oh, uh...okay. Yeah. If that's what you need to do, uh, you, uh, you do it.”

Indrid cups his cheek, forcing his fingers to stay still, “Thank you for letting me stay. And for planning me such a lovely send off.”

“Indrid, how could I plan for somethin I didn’t think was happenin?”

“Ah, um, I simply assumed-”

“‘Drid” Duck steps closer, “do you think I want you gone?”

No point in lying now, not when Duck is always so truthful.

“Yes.”

“Did I do somethin? Is this too much? Fuck, it is, ain’t it, I knew the whole romantic dinner for two thing was gonna be too far.”

Indrid has been alive a long time. The fact he can still be this oblivious is remarkable to him.

“‘Drid, I’m so fuckin sorry, I uh, I thought-” He gasps when Indrid guides his face up for a kiss, and he’s so warm and comforting and there and he’s kissing Indrid bck, kissing him like it’s all he remembers how to do

When they break the kiss Indrid grins, “You thought right, Duck.”

“Oh thank fuckin god.”

With that Duck pounces, hooking his hands under Indrid’s thighs and lifting him up, kissing him over and over on their somewhat precarious trip to the bed.

Indridi has had plenty of sleepless nights. This turns out to be the first time he enjoys one.

And several months later, when Duck returns to Kepler for the screening of a very special episode of Saturday Night Dead, Indrid steps off the plane with him, grinning in the West Virginia Sun.

#indrid cold/duck newton #indruck #TAZ Amnesty #promptober

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tonystarkbingo · 4 years

Photo

Presenting, for your entertainment and amusement, a Titles Game from the TSB Discord!

Aim of the game: a title is suggested, and everyone pitches in their idea of what kind of fic they would write for that title.

“Hot Chocolate Kisses” - suggested by @rebelmeg

@lbibliophile-mcu - Tony and Bruce are undertaking a very serious series of experiments to determine the optimal ratio of hershey kisses to milk in hot chocolate. And taste-testing the results. (actually, that would be fun to do as Tony and Morgan)

@summerpipedream - Natasha/Pepper - Natasha hates hot chocolate. It's always been too sweet, too sticky and if she could drink any other winter holiday drink, she would. Figuring out how to tell her girlfriend Pepper that, the biggest chocoholic in the world (Tony literally bought her a chocolate fountain for her birthday one year), well...it was a problem.

@rebelmeg - Iron Family winter tradition that comes about the first day they get a big snow. everyone wears their coziest sweaters, fuzziest socks, and wooliest winter hats, and they all drink hot chocolate out on the porch swing as they watch snow fall

@somesortofitalianroast - Hot chocolate kisses: Bucky teaches Russian History at Appalachian State University. Steve Rogers is the new World War II teacher. It always amuses Bucky that the UNC System decided that they needed an entire 3-credit hour class on World War II, and why AppState was chosen as the university, since Fayetteville is, like, right next to Fort Bragg. Or something. At least Steve’s easy on the eyes. Even if he’s not into guys. Except he is. Into guys that is. They’ve just started dating, Steve’s coming over to Bucky’s house for the first time, and a snowstorm hits. Featuring hot chocolate, declarations of love, only one bed, and enough pining to repopulate the pine barrens.

@darthbloodorange - Captain America is meant to be the paragon of virtue, the pinnacle of perfection. Or so Tony thought until catches Steve stuffing his face full of chocolate in the middle of the night. He demands Steve share the chocolate, but he's eaten it all ready. The only way Tony's get some, it seems it, is to kiss it from Steve's hot, chocolate covered lips.

(Keep reading for more amazing ideas!)

“to love and only love” - suggested by @somesortofitalianroast

@rebelmeg - giving me tony and maria vibes for some reason. can't decide if it's angsty, about how maria loves her son more from a distance, or if it's fluffy, and she loves him more than enough to make up for the ways howard doesn't.

@summerpipedream - Tony/Bucky - "To love and only love" is what the world always said about soulmates. His mother always said that when he'd meet his soulmate, he'd know. But what did that say about him when his soulmate kept running away?

@somesortofitalianroast - To love and only love: Cap!Steve/oblivious mechanic, Tony. Snarky identity porn. (changed it because, now that i think about it, it's tony/steve, that fic. lol)

@jamesbuckystark - to love and only love - Angst - Tony falls in love way too easily and quickly. Even when the ones he loves hurt him time and time again, he cannot find it in his heart to hate them

@jacarandabanyan - To love and only love: Tony hates soulmates and destiny deciding who he’s supposed to love and all the cultural adoration around the whole concept of soulmate marks. But nothing beats how much he hates that he loves his soulmate, despite himself. Steve clearly hasn’t seen their matching marks, and even more clearly doesn’t like, let alone love Tony. Tony can’t stop himself from living Steve- another thing to add to the list of things he hates, his stupid, insuppressible love for Steve- but he can avoid letting Steve know about their matching marks. He can love Steve and do nothing about it.

@lbibliophile-mcu - The vibe I'm getting from this title is subverted love triangle. The set-up is all there for angst and jealousy, but the characters all decide to focus on the positives instead. Whether this is one character deciding that (close) friendship is enough, or some degree of poly. Just everyone deciding that the important thing is that everyone is happy and together.

@trashcanakin - I get arranged marriage, enemies to real lovers vibes from it. Winteriron of course if I wrote it xD

To love and only love: Why does Tony have to marry him of all people. It's bad enough he's being forced into marriage because it's what the "kingdom" needs, what about what he needs? Or wants for that matter. And Bucky doesn't even like him, always silently glaring at him. It will never work, they just can't pretend to love each other when it takes all their strength just to like each other. But things change with the seasons. Could one terrible accident move the tide and show the true feelings hidden below?

@darthbloodorange - To love and only love (Stony): It's been years since anyone one has come by Tony's lair, leaving the dragon alone to tinker and work with his tech hoard. That's how he likes it: no knights, no paladins, no trouble. Just him and his bots. One day a werewolf (Steve) makes his way into his lair. He does everything he can to get rid of him, but the werewolf always returns. Before long Tony realises he likes having Steve around, likes how happy Steve is when he returns to Tony. Before long any frustration Tony feels for the werewolf is worn away, and all there is left is for him to love him. But would it ever work out between a dragon and a werewolf?

“Falling off the edge of the world with you” - @summerpipedream

@rebelmeg - pepperony, tony is teaching pepper how to work the rescue armor. they've been at it long enough that she's got the hang of it, and they celebrate by taking a thrilling flight together, far enough up that there's nothing but them, the edge of the world, and the stars

@summerpipedream - Tony & Rhodey - Whenever he got angry or tired at the world, Rhodey always used to drive him to their favourite lookout. Told him to yell and scream when things got too much and the world would fade away. Through the years, this never changed.

@jamesbuckystark - falling off the edge of the world with you - Rhodey knows it's unhealthy, following Tony to the ends of the earth. He also knows that Tony would understand if he said no. But there's something about the rush he gets when he's with Tony

@lronhusbands - falling off the edge of the world with you - ironhusbands. Idk like soft and fluffy boys who are just flying in their suits just to fly and playing games with each other and like total au where Rhodey doesn’t fall like he does so like they’re total idiots who cut their jets and plummet to earth and laugh bc they think they're invincible

@somesortofitalianroast - Falling off the edge of the world with you: 70 years ago, Steve Fell. Capital “F” Fell. There’s only one term for it, anyway. He might have survived, barely, yes, but he survived. But the thing about a Fall is that you never fly again. Even if you recover. Steve had resigned himself to never see the world from the air again. Until Tony.

@lbibliophile-mcu - Something different: Extremis!Tony (technopath version). Jarvis has been helping him get used to his new skills and senses. Because as much as Tony prefers to run rather than walk, he can also feel the very real risk of losing himself in this world of information and connections. The climax has Jarvis 'standing' beside him (acting as his guide and tether) as he takes his first dive into the internet.

@darthbloodorange - Falling off the edge of the world with you (Stony): Tony thought he would be the last person Steve would turn to for flying lessons. He didn't even have real wings anymore, not since Afghanistan. He doesn't fly like he used to. He didn't even think that Steve wouldn't know how to fly. With the broad, strong wings the serum had given him, Steve should be the best flier out. But as Steve stands before him, shyly stammering out his request for help, Tony could only find in him to say "yes" Tony schedules in time every week to help teach Steve how to fly. It soon becomes their thing.

@jacarandabanyan - Falling off the edge of the world with you: Space AU- Tony has always dreamed of exploring out beyond the edge of the known universe, and Rhodey has always known that he would follow Tony anywhere, no matter where. Even if current mathematical models of the edges of the known universe indicate that the two of them are more likely to end up falling into the void of nothingness than discover another universe or whatever it is Tony thinks he’s going to find.

“My heart beets for you (Mint to be)” - @darthbloodorange

@rebelmeg - the avengers have transformed the roof of the tower into a garden. and it's going pretty well. they've all got their own spots for their own stuff, and a section they do together, it's a good team bonding activity. at least... it is until tony's mint ("it's peppermint, get it?!") starts taking over clint's beets ("they're purple!"). then it's all-out war, and the one with the greenest thumb wins (pun not intended, hulk.)

@trashcanakin - My Heart Beets For You (Mint to Be): (No powers AU) Bucky runs a little cafe in a nice quiet town. They specialize in pastries, some say that their mint pies are the best around. Then some loud, rowdy, asshole buys the lot across the street and puts in a music store. Oh, it is on! This Tony guy wants a war, he's got one. And toss in soulmate AU on top because it would be funny xD

@jamesbuckystark - My heart beets for you (Mint to be) - Bucky is a garden sprite. No one sees him, and he bestows his loving touch to those who deserve it. Tony tries to be a plant dad... but fails miserably, due to the lack of sun and his forgetting to tend to his plants. Bucky takes one look at the man and falls in love. Imagine Tony's surprise when his dead plants are now alive and blooming!

(addition by @trashcanakin ) Tony's apartment is full of plants, flowers, and greenery because every time Bucky looks at him and blushes it makes more plants grow xD

And he's like "IDK WHAT'S HAPPENING!"

@summerpipedream - My heart beets for you (Mint to be) - Tony/Sam - Maria's last instructions in her will to Tony, along with the keys to her old family manor, were "Be Happy". It didn't take long for Tony to decide to quit his job, pack up his things and move out in the middle of nowhere to turn his mother's old home into a bed and breakfast. Of course, he never expected to run into Farmer Sam, who insists on sharing his extra fresh produce with him, dropping by 'just to see him smile'.

@darthbloodorange - My heart beets for you (Mint to be) (Stony) Steve and Tony retire from saving the world after the defeat of Thanos. Steve takes up gardening, wanting somewhere calming to do his art, somewhere he can relax. He needed something sedate, something peaceful that he could manage. He starts small, only a handful of flower beds, and learns as he goes. Slowly he starts expanding his garden, growing new sorts of flowers, and food. Herbs for Bruce. Flowers for Nat. A mediation/sensory garden for Sam. Pumpkins for Clint and his kids. A coffee tree for Tony. Soon he has a huge garden at the Compound with something for all of the Avengers. With a little work he manages to convince Tony to help him out in his garden (even if it is mainly to ogle Steve).

“If You Only Knew” - @jamesbuckystark

@rebelmeg - welp. okay. angst. tony ruminating about all the ways the people he loves don't understand the way he loves them. the way he shows them, tells them with different words. all he wants is to be loved back, and he can't understand why he's so unlovable.

@trashcanakin - Bucky would do anything for Tony, anything. Tony's the reason he's free, has a roof over his head, food, has his life back... Tony and Shuri even gave him his mind back, too. But Tony thinks Bucky hates him... Of course, why wouldn't he. Bucky keeps tryin' to show Tony how much he actually cares, but things keep gettin' in the damn way! A story full of misunderstandings, hurt/comfort, and eventual romance. Ayye. Could easily turn that into humor and crack as well, 'cause it's my brand xD

@summerpipedream - If You Only Knew - Steve/Tony "Do you know how long it took me to get home?" scowled Tony, "Every werewolf I ran into on the street told me congratulations, or took him long enough. Did you have something to tell me Steve?" Werewolf Steve is a little too enthusiastic with scenting his human mate. Whoops.

@jamesbuckystark - If You Only Knew - Tony talks in his sleep... a lot. Rhodey has experienced hearing some weird-ass stuff that he's said ever since college. Now Bucky gets woken up by Tony shaking him then saying something like "I farted by a hairy man yesterday" or "who grabbed my cheese in the ocean?" before zonking back out. Tony knows he talks in his sleep and often asks what he said when he wakes up. Bucky can't tell him due to laughing so hard so he ends up wheezing out "oh if you only knew what you said."

@jacarandabanyan - If only you knew: Tony loses his memories after a magical head injury. Nothing should be more important than getting his memories back so he can get back into the field and fight the good fight with these hero-types that claim to be his teammates. But one teammate in particular keeps distracting him from this vital work. For some reason, Bucky Barnes is both eager to help him in any way he can and totally unwilling to be alone with him. If only Tony knew why.

@celtic7irish - It would be a story of one-upmanship of the craziest stunts the Avengers have ever pulled. "If Only You Knew" the TRUE story behind some of those missions. If Only You Knew what really happened in Budapest. If Only You Knew what really happened during that one summer at MIT. Lol.

@jamesbuckystark - Also, angst version. If You Only Knew: Tony Stark, the control freak. Tony Stark, who thinks he knows best and screws stuff up. Tony Stark, the creator of Ultron. All these things, Tony has heard and will agree with. Rhodey does not. The others don't know what he does to keep shady government agencies off their backs. They don't realize what Tony sees at night. He wants to tell them, but Tony won't let him

@darthbloodorange - If You Only Knew: (Stony) Steve locks himself away in his room as Tony brings back another Omega to the tower, not wanting the Alpha to see the tears it brings to his eyes. It wasn't fair, he had no right to be hurt or jealous, Tony wasn't his Alpha. Tony would never be interested in him. Tony was only interested in soft, pretty Omegas. As far as the world cared he was an Alpha. But he wasn't. He was an Omega. If only Tony knew... maybe he would pick him. ...Maybe he would love him.

#tonystarkbingomarkiv #tsbmiv #tsb discord party #title prompt game #party game

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mercurypilgrim · 4 years

Note

“Why are you being nice to me?” prompt please! XD

(Ask, and ye shall receive! ;) ) Odessen was… cold.

Fia shivered as she stepped off the shuttle, pulling her cloak around her shoulders.

The Force was in such serene balance, it almost made her head spin.

It was strange really, to be so overwhelmed by balance.

She was nervous.

Master Till'in had always mentioned that she needed to be more level-headed, but it was hard to quell the squirming feeling of nerves that made her feel a little sick.

From her spot off to the side of the ramp, she watched the rest of the inhabitants of the shuttle disembark.

She had recognised a fellow Jedi in there, but the others were unknown. A trio of surly looking soldiers in Republic armour had stuck closely together, watching everyone else with thinly veiled suspicion. A quiet woman in the garb of a spacer had played with her holopad the entire journey, and the other Jedi had been content to meditate by themself.

Fia had felt quite out of place, even as the other Jedi had opened an eye to give her a warm smile before slipping back into their mediation.

This was the most nerve-wracking thing she had done since passing her trials to become a Knight, and that was on her second try.

She looked up in a watery blue sky garnished with puffy clouds, and breathed in cool, crisp air.

She had always loved being out in the fresh air.

Her former occupation as a crew member on a junk hauler on Raxus Prime seemed impossibly long ago now, but the distaste of fumes and industrial spaces lingered.

Gingerly, she followed the quiet spacer as she headed for the huge staging area, hewn from the rock. The sheer scale was impressive enough, but the fact that it had been done so quickly was astonishing.

Glancing around, she felt strangely guilty for being here, as though she was invading the space. People baring Alliance insignia hurried back and forth, some dressed in fatigues and others in officers’ uniforms.

It all felt awfully familiar, and at the same time, completely out of place.

She swallowed hard when she spotted a figure in a dark robe, hood over their face and a lightsaber clipped to their belt, hurry past them with a thunderous expression on her face. Stark crimson tattoos covered her face, and Fia knew what that meant.

She was so busy staring, she almost bumped into the spacer when she suddenly stopped.

Flashing an awkward, apologetic smile to the dark look thrown her way, she peered through the throng of people.

A woman in fatigues and with the baring of someone used to being listened to was standing waiting for them, her face stony. She was backed by a cohort of neutral looking assistants, all of whom stayed quiet.

“I am Lieutenant Fisher,” the leader introduced, her accent placing her from one of the Imperial fringe worlds. She was a mountain of a woman, standing tall and broad. Her sharp dark eyes and closely cropped hair gave her the air of someone Fia would never ever cross. “Welcome to Odessen.”

She continued her welcome, and Fia strained to listen for fear of missing a single instruction. Her mind tended to wander easily, and she always tried listen extra hard to people who looked like they could break her in two.

Eventually, she heard that she and any other Force inclined recruits were to head for the Force Enclave. Having no idea where this was, she resolved to follow the kindly Jedi she had met on the shuttle.

They were already following one of the assistants, and Fia scrambled to keep up.

The Jedi shot her a little smile when she joined their side, quiet and calm.

Fia wished she could be so composed.

She followed the two as the assistant led them through a maze of rock hewn corridors, passing rooms and doors by the dozen. She craned her neck to take in every detail, turning her head to look at everything on their path. People were everywhere, going about their business as though they weren’t part of the most amazing thing Fia had ever seen.

The Alliance was monumental.

Amazing.

Awe inspiring.

How could she not want to be a part of that?

She-

She blinked, pausing.

She didn’t see her Jedi companion anymore.

She didn’t see the assistant, either.

Attempting to squash the panic threatening to rise in her belly, she looked around and found herself completely lost.

She had been so busy staring at everything that she must have missed them turning off down another corridor.

Wringing her hands, she headed back the way she came, recognising none of it.

It was quiet here too, and as soon as she spotted someone that she could ask, they hurried away with their heads in a holopad or call.

Calm.

She needed to stay calm and normal and peaceful.

She was lost.

Oh, what if they thought she was a spy? They had Imperials in the Alliance so what if they wanted to torture her because she had wandered into a restricted area and she had only stepped off the shuttle half an hour ago and now she was poking around where she shouldn’t and-

“Are you alright?”

She jumped, her whole body tensing as a sudden voice cut through her growing fright.

She whirled around and, to her horror, came face to face with black armor and amber eyes.

She blinked, wringing her hands.

“Ahh, I- I’m really sorry!” She burst out with, mouth moving faster than her brain. “I didn’t mean to- I mean, I just got off the shuttle and then I lost the person- the guy I was following, and- I’m sorry.”

She cringed as the Sith, for he couldn’t have been anything else with that armour and those eyes, looked at her.

“You’re lost? Well, it happens.” The Sith smiled, showing sharp teeth. She squeaked, and his eyes crinkled with humour. “But I asked if you were alright. You look a bit shaken. Do you need a sit down? A shot of whiskey? Maybe a hug?”

Fia stared. The Sith didn’t seem angry, and he sounded like he was teasing her.

She looked at him more closely.

He was Mirialan, tall and solid looking under that armour. His face was decorated with geometric tattoos, and his eyes were bright golden amber against dark skin. Orange ringed his iris like a mockery of a limbic circle, and she marvelled at it. He was smiling at her.

“I- um…“

He raised a dark eyebrow, and it disappeared under the mop of curls that reached down to brush his shoulders.

“A sit down then. Come on, I’ll show you the cantina.”

“I’m supposed to be going to the Force Enclave.” She managed shyly, and he waved a dismissive hand.

She stared. Those gauntlets had claws on them.

“Oh, they can complain if they want.” He grinned, leading the way, and apparently expecting her to follow. “You need a drink.”

Fia cringed.

“I don’t- uh, I can’t really have-“

“Booze? Fair enough. I think they have Xambu juice in this week.”

What in the name of all the stars was Xambu juice?

She followed along meekly, half expecting the Sith to turn and go for her throat.

“I’m Ven’fir, by the way.” He introduced as he led her into a corridor with more people. The air was more relaxed here, and she could hear music getting louder as they approached, as well as the sound of talking and clinking glasses. “You’re one of the new recruits, yeah?”

She nodded, trying to keep pace with his long strides.

“Yes. I’m Fia. Uh, Knight Fia.” She corrected with an awkward smile.

He grinned at her again, and she was struck by how not-menacing it was.

“Not used to the rank yet?” he asked pleasantly, leading her into a cantina. It was a huge space, the craggy rock ceiling giving it a rather unique atmosphere. It was fairly quiet at this hour, but there were still enough people to give the place a low buzz of sound.

She shook her head.

“It’s been two years.” She admitted. “But I’m still not used to it.”

“I know the feeling.” He replied vaguely, and she wondered what he meant.

He rattled of an order to the serving droid and handed her one of the glasses that it returned with. The liquid inside was clear, but too thick to be water. It had a pretty iridescence when it caught the light, and a bright pink fruit on the side of the glass.

The Sith was drinking the same thing.

He led her to a table and settled down, clearly expecting her to join him.

He raised a glass to someone who waved at him, shooting them a grin and wink.

Fia was feeling quite overwhelmed. She took a drink of her strange beverage and found it to be deliriously sweet. It was pleasant and fizzed on her tongue as she tasted it.

“Why are you being nice to me?” she blurted, sitting awkwardly in her chair.

She Sith blinked in surprise, glass halfway to his mouth.

He took a drink, swallowed it, and shrugged.

“Why not?” he asked, “What good would being cruel to you do me?”

Fia wasn’t sure how to answer that without offending him.

He noticed her reluctance to speak, and a knowing look crossed his face.

“It’s because I’m Sith, isn’t it?” he said, taking another drink. “You thought I would go out of my way to torment a Jedi.”

She cringed, her cheeks heating up. She wrung her hands in her lap.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful.” She assured. “That was really rude of me.”

He gave a little smile.

“It’s alright, I understand why you’d be nervous. We were on opposite sides not too long ago, after all.” He reassured. “Every Sith here is here because they want to be, same as every Jedi. They’re not all saints, but they’re Alliance.” He said firmly. “And that means they’ve chosen to leave everything they’ve ever known just to be here, just like you.”

She swallowed painfully, nodding.

“Yeah, I- I know. I’m just being stupid. I do that a lot.” She offered him a smile and was relieved when she got one back.

“Oh, there’s plenty of stupidity here.” He laughed, and the sound was loud and restrained. “Mostly from me, or so my advisors tell me.”

She frowned.

“Advisors?”

Important people had advisors.

He glanced at her, sly.

“Yeah. I was a bit… less than completely honest when I introduced myself earlier.” He admitted with a sheepish grin. “The name’s Ven’fir Quinn, Darth Venator and Alliance Commander. Nice to meet you.”

Fia stared at him in horror as he offered her his hand to shake, clawed gauntlet and all.

Unable to keep a straight face, Ven’fir couldn’t help but laugh.

His laugh was loud and infectious, and soon she found herself giggling too.

The knot of nerves in her belly untangled itself and melted away, and finally she felt like she was safe.

#SWTOR #Fanfiction #Asks #Padawan Fia #Venf'ir #OCs #Ven can be sneaky sometimes #For like 5 minutes #The Jedi are completely justified in being weirded out by the Sith tho #As are the Sith about being near Jedi #I think Ven would take no shit on that front though #You will get along or we will MAKE you get along #by ordering you to go to cultural sensitivity classes #or therapy

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erisfiles · 4 years

Text

Chapter 6

IG - @kingsbtsffs / Tumblr - @prince13jimin-kingsbtsffs

The Emperor

characters : “The 7 Dragons” Emperors; Min Yoongi, Kim Namjoon, Kim Seokjin, Jung Hoseok, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, Jeon Jungkook. Ahn Y/n. Bang Hyunsik. Soo Jaemin

cameos : Prince Park Jihyun (Emperor Jimin’s younger brother) , Jeon Junghyun (Emperor Jungkook’s older brother, the general of his military, Jung Jiwoo (Emperor Hoseok’s older sister, his advisor), and Cha Eunwoo (a soldier of the Kim’s empire)

word count :

Warnings for this chapter : mentions of beheading and whores 🚨🚨

genre : fluff, angst, smut, action, emperor au

Author’s note: this takes place as the conversation between the seven emperors are happening in the dining room after she excused herself to her room‼️‼️

DO NOT PLAGIARIZE/STEAL OR YOU WILL BE REPORTED.

Disclaimer : in honor of spring i am going to be using 🌸and🌷and 🌺as indent markers

I do not own the picture of the poster, i had just edited it with the series title and my @🤗

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Author’s note: this takes place as the conversation between the seven emperors are happening in the dining room after she excused herself to her room‼️‼️and then flshabakc to Yoongi then back to her in her room. Heheheh

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓢𝓲𝔁

3RD POV

🌷Y/N was in her bed, relaxing with her eyes closed. She had often forgot, or at least she had wanted to forget the day she oath herself to Yoongi. She just wanted to make her late dad proud, something she had failed to do most of her life before he passed away. She remembers her dad always telling her to follow what her heart says, to do what is always right. She had often heard him talk tom him about something about the truth to her mother but Y/N had never figured it out. Y/N remembered how she had been picked to work at the palace, an event that has happened for centuries whenever a new emperor was on the throne. Every woman in town had to stand in line in front of the palace, whoever had been picked were considered lucky as it was their chance to conceive with the emperor and earn the title of the queen.

🌸She remembered very clearly, standing in a line, along with other women. Princesses from other empires had also been there, but Min Yoongi was not interest in brats that were raised in loyalty as they lacked humbleness and dignity. At that point Y/N remembered him walking past her more than three times, feeling nervous and uneasy as she felt his burning gaze on her. No one was allowed to look at the emperor unless you were a government official or his consort. Emperors were to choose at least 11 women as his personal maids and possibly his personal prostitutes. It had always been an odd number as the odd one out happened to become his consort. However, this time the new Emperor Min had only picked one woman out of the hundreds that were in front of him. She vividly remembers how she had instantly bowed to her knees once the emperor’s shoes had come into view.

🌺Emperor Min had bent down to her height and snickered and started walking away, but not before doing what he thought, no, he knew he would enjoy the most, “I only want her, the rest of them can go home.” All of them women quietly gasped with widened eyes hearing such news, no emperor has only picked one woman. “Emperor Min, it will be your honor for me to be one of your prostitutes. I roomies you that you will not regret it.” Princess BangY/N looked up only to see Emperor Min walking away into his palace, soldiers gently picking her up from her feet and guiding her to the palace. “Miss Y/N, your personal belongings will be transferred to the palace very shortly, however, if you want to pack them yourselves you are welcomed to. “Uh yes...I would like to pack them myse-“ however, she had gotten interrupted by a voice. “I will go with you.” Y/N looked only to see the emperor himself. She had been quick to avoid eye contact as she had not wanted to be beheaded on her first day. “My dear...consort.” Y/N looked up at surprise but still managing to avoid his gaze. Yoongi took her chin in between his pointer finger and thumb lifting up her chin, “There’s nothing to be afraid of, beautiful. I won’t make you do anything you aren’t comfortable with.” With that he walked away, her intrigued by his caring but cold personality.

🌷The day of her wedding, she had been dressed in a silk wedding hanbok by the elderly maids. Her hair was styled up like a queen and her makeup was that of a queen. Y/N looked into the mirror appalled by her own beauty. She jumped in shock seeing a woman staring right at her making her turn around very quickly. She realized that the woman was part of a family portrait. Y/N looked closely at the woman, looking at her features, she reminds her of someone but she couldn’t seem to figure it out. “That is former Empress Min. She was the first empress, but with you in the picture, she won’t be the last, dear. She was the one that had changed the rules of this empire. No longer will it only be men that can run an empire, but also women. This rule will save so many women and children from getting killed when they birth a daughter to future emperors.”

🌸”I am glad my mum was not an empress then. My parents ran a butcher shop back in the Kim Empire but the Bang Empire had ambushed our town and had taken that land from the Kim’s.” The maid had sighed, shaking her head in understanding. “Ah yes, they’ve been trying to take over whole of Korea for the past few years, though they have failed, I am surprised the Kim empire hasn’t tried getting their land back.” Y/N nodded her head, not wanting to think about the best friends she had no choice but to abandon. They were possibly the emperors now considering its been years since she had left her home. “You’re young dear. I believe Emperor Min will wait a couple more years before he would want to conceive with you so you can also enjoy your youth. If anything, he is the one who knows the most about feeling entrapped in a bar-less prison.” Y/N would be lying if she said she didn’t miss Namjoon and Seokjin.

🌺”Well, dear, put on a show will you?”

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🌷Y/N stood at the balcony of the palace along with Yoongi by her side. They had not seen each other ever since the day she had been chosen. Yoongi had been busy dealing with trades and the alliance, while Y/N was being taught on how to behave like an empress. She felt her heart beat fast as she saw a huge crowd in and out of the palace grounds, many citizens witnessing the intermarriage between the emperor and his consort. She saw the bored faced of the government officials below them, it was as if they have witnessed this scene hundreds of times. Y/N faced him, who was already looking at her, looking into his emotionless face, cold eyes, his scar on his right eye intriguing her to the fullest. Every time she looked at him, she wondered if the rumors about him were true.

🌸After a few hours of the tradition ceremony beginning, it was time for her to say her vows. “...I oath myself...” Y/N visibly gulped, managing to swallow the lump in her throat that had been building up, realization had hit her that starting from today her life will be completely different, but she just smiled. “...to you, my emperor.” Yoongi smiled, but frowned in the inside as knew she did’t originally want to be his wife, she was just forced. He remembered when he had first saw her with her parents when he had visited the village to see if his people did into have any problems and none were in poverty. He visited the village once a month, even though none of the villagers knew what the new Emperor Min looked like, he had kept his head down fearing someone will fine out it was him. He had no guards to protect him as he walked down humbly through the streets of his village. He did not want to live up to the rumors people have made up of him, his people have nothing to fear of him.

———————————

🌺He remembered stumbling upon a man screaming “fresh meat!” The word fresh had intrigued him, as an emperor he believed only he had the freshest food in his empire, he did not know his villagers also did. He noticed that he had never gone out to the village his whole life until he had become emperor, his father passing him the crown. He saw many villagers line up at the butcher, many conversing between themselves. Yoongi had been surprised that it seems everyone knew each other.

🌷Yoongi hesitantly walked to the end of the line, humbly putting his head down and his straw hat over his eyes, fearing that someone will recognize him. Even though know no one “knew” how the emperor looked like he had the fear that people will judge him and automatically try to overthrow him. Once his dad had passed him the crown, rumors have been going around that his citizens have been rioting, planning to kill off the Min’s. As time went by, the line had gotten shorter and shorter, however Yoongi had not noticed

🌸”Young man!” Yoongi froze in his spot, his whole body freezing. Yoongi wanted to look up at the man but he was scared. He fiddled with his fingers acting like he had not heard the man in front of him. Suddenly he felt a hand land on his shoulder, startling him in the process. He lifted his head up, only to stop right away from his eyes and his scar being revealed to the unknown man. “Yes?” Yoongi responded in a quiet voice, not knowing how to interact with others besides his parents. “This must be your first time, aye. What do you want? Pork? Beef? Chicken? It’s the freshest in town, I am sure you won’t regret picking any of them.” Yoongi saw how the man in front of him had smiled as he slightly put his head up, just realizing that it was his turn. Remembering his hand in his shoulder, he had immediately felt uncomfortable, “Please take your hands off of me.”

🌺Yoongi turned around only to see everyone going back to their daily lives. The butcher looked at Yoongi in confusion, he assumed he didn’t know what to do as it may be his first time. “Are you okay? Is this your first time, young man?” Yoongi turned back around to face the man, “No, I just want...uh give me beef-yeah beef.” Yoongi, distracted by a girl, most likely a few years younger than him, suddenly felt a burning gaze on him. He looked at her, seeing her quickly look away from Yoongi making him chuckle. He was enchanted by her beauty. No, she had not been smiling but she looked perfect in his eyes. A fly flew right past Yoongi, snapping him out of his gaze.

🌷The fly landed on the table, Yoongi’s eyes focused on it. It walked and walked until it stopped near a droplet of blood. Yoongi saw, he saw its mouth stretch out to the droplet blood in slow motion. He felt like he could hear it gulp the blood on the table. “Hey! Put the knife down!” Yoongi took his attention away from the fly to his hand. A splash of water startled him, the fly going away, content with its meal. Yoongi started breathing in and out as he saw the water mixing with the blood on the table. He looked at his hands, covered in blood. He felt as if insects was crawling in his skin. He rubbed his arms harshly trying to get rid of them. All of a sudden, he was wet covered in the water that was thrown at him. He looked around him only to see the butcher and the woman who he caught was looking at him.

🌸Yoongi swore felt as if he was an animal being observed, like he was one of those experiments his scientists had observed. He instantly vulnerable with their judging eyes looking right at him. He got up from the ground, stumbling on his feet in the process. He stared at the unknown beauty, he fell deep in his thoughts as he stood there. “Are you alright?” Yoongi was now aware that his face was on full display. Even though it was only two people in front of him he felts his breath quicken and the pace of his heart also quickening. He had to get out of there...now.

🌺In a second, he ran. He ran as fast as his legs can take him. He saw his black horse tied to the tree, right where he left him. He looked behind him only to see the woman he saw at the village running after him, yelling at him, “Wait!” Yoongi ignored her cries and got on his horse and took off back to the palace. Y/N was left behind wondering why the strange guy had took off looking scared for no reason. But she saw him. She saw his face, his scar. The only scar the emperor rumored to have.

🌷Yoongi arrived at his palace, immediately going straight to his chambers. The whores his dad had got him when he became emperor, the three of them immediately going up to him, putting their hands all over his body trying to calm down their emperor. “Get the fuck off of me! I don’t understand why ALL OF YOU don’t understand that I DON”T WANT YOU! Go fuck one of the government officials! GET the fuck out of my chambers! I told everyone, including you three, that no one is to come into my chambers unless they’re my wife.” The three whores cowered in fear, they’re first time seeing the emperor become a mad man, or so they tonight. “But my emperor, you don’t have a..“ Yoongi toned her voice out, getting angrier by the second she continued to speak. “I have NO wife. That means none of you are my wife. SO GET THE FUCK OUT NOW BEFORE I HAVE ALL THREE OF YOU SENT TO JAIL OR EVEEN BEHEADED!” They quickly scrambled out of his chambers without a second thought to do so

——————————

🌸Yoongi sighed as he laid in bed, he remembered how scared he was. But seeing blood was a fear he had, he doesn’t remember why. But just seeing that red crimson liquid made him shiver, made him coward away from every, from everything. He sighed, looking into the mirror he saw his face, his cursed face. He doesn’t even remember why his face was like this. Whenever he asked his parents they had just shrugged away his question. They had always seemed to avoid the question, or try their best at least. He remembered often sneaking around the palace at night whenever his parents had meetings with the officials. “He doesn’t need to know. Not yet, it’ll only ruin him...” Yoongi didn’t bother to listen to the rest, he scoffed at the words that come out of his mother’s mouth not expecting anything new. His mother was always like this, she had always liked to stray away form the truth.

🌺He often went back to the village, nearly every day. Just to see her. He found out her name was Y/N a couple days after first “meeting” her. He would often...observe from afar. No, not stalking. He refused to call it that. He had an idea that he’ll make a law for every woman in the village to come to the palace the dat he was to choose a consort. He didn’t care that she was a commoner, he knew he wanted her. And he was going to get her.

——————————

🌷When she first saw him, she truly had felt intimidated by his stare. However, the longer she had spent time around him she noticed that he wasn’t as bad as people had described him to be. Min Yoongi was a preserved man. He was quiet and had never spoken unless need be. She had found this out after becoming his consort. However, she didn’t want to be here. She wanted to go back to the Kim Empire because she missed her best friends. She had overheard one of the government officials talking about Namjoon and Seokjin. She was relieved that they were alive.

🌸Yoongi had showed her his loyalty, however, just like his demeanor, he was as cold as ice. He did not show any affection, his parents were at first very judging of her, looking down at her as she was a commoner. She was surprised when they had suddenly treated her with royalty. She wanted to know why, but she had never gotten her answer.

🌺Y/N was shocked once she was sent back to the Kim Empire by Yoongi himself. He had found out that Y/N was a spy for the Kim’s but he had trusted Namjoon with his heart, so he did not question it. He had commanded her to come back in a week. But once two weeks had passed, he had went to look for her day and night. He was worried that something had happened as the messenger form the Kim Empire did not arrive for him to tell Yoongi that she had arrived safely along with the guards.

🌷After a few days of looking for her, he had returned back to the palace only to see the Kim’s messenger waiting for him. Yoongi was informed that the ]re would be a meeting in a few days with the rest fo the allies at the Kim’s.

—————————————

🌸Y/N sighed in defeat, sitting up she looked around her room. She still couldn’t believe she owned a room in the palace, a big one at that. It was big enough to have a small gathering. The past year had been crazy. She had become an Emperor’s consort, specifically Emperor Min Yoongi. She got up from the bed aimlessly walking around her room. She was in deep thought, she was still thinking of the possible reasons why she had been treated like royalty by her husband’s parents. Nothing has ever bothered her so much, or so she thought.

🌺She knew that not letting Yoongi know she would stay here for longer was a bad decision. What’s done can’t be undone. Y/N sighed in frustration, her thoughts continuously invading her mind. “I’m gonna go back.” She got up form her bed and bee-lined back to the dining room. Only she did not know why she felt something bad was gonna happen. Perhaps, the thundering sky was an omen. But she just shrugged and continued to walk to her destination

🌷As she reached the doors, she quietly opened the door not wanting to bother their meeting. Only to hear something quite shocking, something she thinks she will never be able to comprehend

“Y/N will understand once we explain. You are still her brother, Taehyung. We will be there for the both of you. Like how siblings should be.”

————————————————-

추운 겨울 끝을 지나

다시 봄날이 올 때까지

꽃 피울 때까지

그곳에 좀 더 머물러줘

머물러줘

—————————————————-

My last chapter flopped 😭😭😭😭

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rushingheadlong · 5 years

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Make My Life Worthwhile - A Brian x Reader fic

Summary: You always know to expect a few surprises at any Queen party. You just weren’t expecting a surprise like this.

Wordcount: ~3,100

Tags: Brian x f!Reader, a bit Halloween themed but mostly just a lot of fluff

Notes: Written for @generic-fandom-trash for the Halloqueen event! I had such a blast writing this, and I really hope you enjoy it! And thanks to @dtfrogertaylor for putting together another great event!

You are cordially invited to join Queen for a Halloween Masquerade, the gilded invitation had read. Masks required. Fancy dress optional.

The description had been vague, but Brian assured you that the event was mostly an excuse for Queen to spend as much of the label’s money as they could get away with before setting off on another tour. Judging by the lavishly decorated room that you’ve stepped into, they’ve met that goal quite well.

There’s no mistaking that it is a Halloween party, of sorts. The gothic manor house chosen to host the evening is the perfect backdrop for the festive decorations adorning every surface. Candles flicker in the wall sconces and jack-o’-lanterns grin on every table. And still, somehow the band has made it look decadent rather than trite.

Freddie sidles up next to you, unmistakable even with the opulent mask covering the upper half of his face. He’s dressed as a circus ringmaster, dripping gold and wearing silks, a whip hanging from one hip. He passes you a glass of wine and says, “So, what do you think of our little gathering, Y/N?”

“Well, it’s hardly little,” you point out, though that goes without saying. Nothing Queen does is ever little. “But it is fabulous, Freddie. You’ve outdone yourselves this time.”

“You’ve outdone yourself, darling, in that fabulous dress of yours,” Freddie says. “Has our dear guitarist seen you in it yet?”

You shake your head. “I haven’t seen him since this morning. I only just got here.” The band have been here for most of the day, coerced into doing a round of interviews on the new album as a requirement for the record company paying for the evening.

“Mm, well, when you do find him the rooms upstairs have locks on them,” Freddie says, slyly. “In case you two need a little privacy…”

“Freddie!” you protest, but you’re laughing despite yourself.

Freddie just winks at you and disappears into the crowd with a small wave, leaving you to strike out on your own in search of your boyfriend.

The room is fairly packed, with about three-quarters of the guests wearing costumes and everyone in the required masks. You’re grateful that you chose a simple costume, a medieval-style dress paired with a crown and some dainty jewelry, rather than some of the over-the-top ensembles that others are wearing. You squeeze past a pair of ridiculously oversized fairy wings and wonder how long it’ll take before those get broken on the dancefloor.

It shouldn’t be hard to find Brian and yet it takes you several minutes before you finally spot him across the room. His costume is as simple as yours- clothes he already owned paired with a dark cape, his mask plain black and doing little to hide his identity- but the sight of him still takes your breath away. Even though you’ve been with him for years, in moments like this you’re still overwhelmed by how much you love this man.

And the feeling, it seems is mutual, because although there’s someone standing next to Brian clearly trying to talk to him, Brian only has eyes for you. You watch his face light up in joy when he realizes that you’ve spotted him, and he quickly excuses himself from his conversational partner to make a beeline for you…

...only to be waylaid by someone else after taking barely a few steps forward. And you can see a third person watching from the sidelines, waiting to swoop in for their chance to talk to Brian as well, despite the fact that he keeps glancing at you and clearly doesn’t want to be chatting with anyone.

Luckily there’s no one stopping you as you cross the room and cut into the conversation with a breezy, “So sorry, I have to borrow Mr. May for a moment, important band business, you know how it is…” You usher Brian away with a gentle hand on his back, acting more of a bodyguard than a girlfriend, and you can feel Brian shake with barely-contained amusement.

“C’mon, let’s head outside,” Brian says, ducking his head close to your ear to be heard over the music and the crowd. “Less of a chance of being bothered out there.”

“Good idea.” You veer left, towards the door, tugging Brian along behind you.

Once you’re outside he laughs, bright and happy, and picks you up, spinning you around in a swirl of skirts and laughter. “You are my hero,” he tells you as he sets you back down, and kisses you on one cheek. “If had to answer any more questions I think I would have snapped.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” you say with a laugh. Your mask is slightly askew from Brian’s excited reaction and you reach up to fix it, only to have Brian push your hands away and gently pull it away from you face altogether.

“I’m pretty sure the party rules don’t apply once you’re outside,” he says, tucking the mask into his pocket.

You reach up and tug Brian’s mask off his face. “Then you don’t need to be wearing this either.”

Brian laughs again and says, “Alright, fair enough,” before the door opens suddenly behind you and a small group of partygoers comes stumbling out.

You and Brian both step to the side to let them pass, and Brian jerks his head towards the sprawling grounds behind you. Without anything else needing to be said, you follow him further away from the house and out into the quiet garden.

Even back here there’s evidence of Queen’s presence in the strings of fairy lights along the paths and jack-o’-lantern eyes flickering in the shadows. The windows at the rear of the house have been opened, letting the faint sounds of music and partying drift faintly through the garden, and the candles in the old wrought-iron lanterns bathe everything in a golden glow.

“lt’s lovely back here,” you say as you look around. Even with few plants left blossoming this late in the season, there’s still a certain beauty to the gardens.

“Definitely worth every cent of the label’s money,” Brian jokes. “But they got us back well and good with those interviewers…”

You make a small noise of sympathy and press close to Brian’s side, wrapping one arm around his waist. He smiles down at you, and some of the tension bleeds out of his frame as he drapes an arm across your shoulders. “It wasn’t too bad,” he assures you. “Just long, as it always is.”

“Still, I wish they’d give you a moment’s rest sometimes,” you tell him. “You aren’t recording or on tour, you should have a moment to just breathe.”

“That’s what tonight’s for,” Brian reminds you. “And we have an advantage for once.” You frown in slight confusion and Brian grins, broad and a little wicked, and explains, “The only people who aren’t in costume are journalists or with the label. Makes it easier to spot and avoid ‘em.”

That startles a laugh out of you, loud enough that if anyone else were around they’d be turning to look at you now. But there’s no one else in the gardens, just you and Brian, who’s looking down at you with a pleased sort of expression on his face, delighted by your unrestrained reaction.

“Speaking of costumes, you look beautiful tonight,” Brian continues. He turns so you’re standing face-to-face, and he looks you up and down. There’s nothing salacious in his gaze, but you still find yourself blushing at the attention. “Radiant, even. I saw you when you first walked in and I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

Compliments from Brian still make your heart flutter, even though you’ve been dating for several years. They’re always sincere and you always know that he means every word he says, no matter how cheesy they would sound coming from anyone else.

“Well you look quite handsome yourself, as you always do,” you tell Brian, though you can’t resist teasing him a little and adding, “Though, I don’t think throwing a cape over clothes you already own exactly counts as a costume…”

“In my defense, I was supposed to be a vampire, but I hated the fake teeth,” Brian explains.

Privately, you think Brian already has the perfect little fangs to complete a vampire costume, but you don’t tell him that. Instead you just smile at him and say, “That’s alright. We match better this way.”

Brian laughs. “That’s true. I can be your loyal servant.” He sweeps down into a dramatic bow, cape fluttering around him. “My lady.”

You giggle and reach for Brian’s hand, pulling him back upright. “I’d much rather have you as my prince,” you say. “Standing by my side, through thick and thin.”

“Why not both?” Brian asks. “I can stand next to you, but I’ll still always take care of you. No matter what.”

Your response is lost in a hitching breath as Brian brings your hand up and kisses it gently. There’s so much tenderness in the action, in his eyes, in the love that radiates out from every fiber of his being that it’s almost too overwhelming to bear, but you can’t seem to look away.

“Brian, I…” you breathe, but you don’t know how the sentence is supposed to end when I love you doesn’t begin to cover the magnitude of what you feel for him.

“Marry me,” Brian says suddenly, unexpectedly, the words coming out in a rush, like Brian wasn’t sure he could say them if he tried to draw it out.

You inhale sharply, caught completely off-guard by the abrupt turn in the conversation. “What? Did you just…?”

“I had this all planned out,” Brian continues quickly. “I was going to do everything right. I have a ring back home, and I was going to take you out to a nice dinner and propose in that park where we had our first date, and everything was going to be perfect, and-”

Brian shakes his head and laughs, just a little, and you can hear his nerves at the edges of it. “But then I saw you tonight, and I wasn’t kidding when I said I couldn’t take my eyes off you. You could have been wearing a potato sack and I still would have stared. There’s a hundred people in that room and I didn’t care about a single one of them, except for you. So I don’t want to wait for perfect. I don’t want to wait a second longer.”

And you watch, spell-bound, as Brian drops to one knee in front of you, still holding your hand. “Y/N… Will you marry me?”

Everything about this moment should be ridiculous. You’re dressed as some fantasy princess and Brian is wearing a cape, with both of your masks sticking out the top of his trouser pocket. The sound of dance music is still noticeable around you, as are the pumpkins and decorations that mark this evening unmistakably as a Halloween party.

Brian doesn’t even have a ring. All he has is the adoring love in his eyes, and a look of hope on his face... and that’s enough. That’s more than enough.

“Yes,” you say, as if there was ever a chance of you answering otherwise. “Yes, Brian, of course!”

Your voice is a little watery and there are tears of joy pricking at the corners of your eyes but that’s okay, because when you pull Brian back to his feet you can see that his eyes aren’t dry either. You throw your arms around his neck with a small laugh, and even though you’ve kissed Brian a thousand times before you think it’s never been as wonderful as it feels right now.

But then again, you’ve never kissed your fiancé before.

“Oh my god, you’re my fiancé,” you say, the words coming out slightly mumbled against Brian’s lips.

Brian laughs a little, and says, “And you’re my fiancée too.” There’s a note of wonder in his voice and he kisses you again. “God, I love you.”

He takes a small step back and pulls one of his rings off, and slips it onto the ring finger of your left hand. It doesn’t quite fit you, and it’s bulky and heavy on your smaller hand, but you can’t hold back a bright smile at the sight of it.

“It’s perfect,” you say, beaming up at Brian.

“It’ll do, for now at least,” Brian says. He’s still holding your hand, brushing his fingers along the ring, and it sends shivers down your spine. “I should’ve at least waited until I had your proper ring on hand to do this…”

“No,” you interrupt gently, before Brian can start overthinking his actions and ruin his own happiness in this moment. “I’m glad you didn’t wait a second longer, and no amount of planning could have made this a better proposal.”

Brian smiles at you, a little crookedly, and asks, “Even though we’re both wearing ridiculous costumes?” It’s meant as a joke but there’s a hint of insecurity behind it that you can spot a mile away.

“Even with the costumes,” you reassure him. “I don’t care about the location, or what we’re wearing, or whether you had a ring with you or not. I don’t need things to be perfect, Brian. I just need you.” You grin at him and add, mostly teasing, “Besides, it’ll make a great story to tell our kids later.”

Brian makes a small, choked noise and says, in a slightly strained voice, “Let’s get through the wedding before talking about kids.”

You can’t help but laugh at Brian’s wide-eyed and panicked reaction, and you remind him, “We’ve already discussed kids before, remember?” You both agreed that you wanted children, eventually, and that had settled the matter for the time being.

“Yes, but that was before we were engaged and it became a real possibility,” Brian tells you. “I still want children but, well, one thing at a time.”

And Brian has a point there. You have to admit that even though you’re sure that you want a family with Brian, there’s something that’s a little scary about that prospect now that it’s no longer purely theoretical. “Alright, you have a point,” you concede easily enough. “Wedding first, children later.”

“Wedding first, then the honeymoon, and then children,” Brian tells you. You raise an eyebrow at that, and Brian explains, “I don’t care what schedule the record company tries to force on us, I am taking you on a proper honeymoon.”

You can hear the promise in Brian’s voice and you don’t doubt that he fully intends to do everything in his power to keep it, but you also know that life as the lead guitarist in Queen is nothing if not busy and unpredictable.

And nothing proves this fact better than a sudden new voice interrupting the conversation. “Ah, Brian, there you are!”

It’s John who’s quickly making his way over to the two of you. Much like Brian he took a simplistic approach to his costume, opting to come dressed as a skeleton which has the one advantage of allowing him to wear a full-coverage mask, which is currently pushed up and sitting on top of his head. “Sorry to interrupt, but you’re needed back inside. A few more journalists have turned up for interviews.”

“Ten minutes, is it too much to ask for ten minutes of peace?” Brian mutters, his shoulders tightening slightly with tension and irritation.

“Sorry,” John says again, with a small shrug. “But you know how they are.”

Brian looks up at the darkening sky, and takes a deep breath. “Is there any way you can cover for me? Please?” he asks. His voice is even, but it’s clear that it’s taking some control to keep his irritation at bay.

It doesn’t take John to figure out what, exactly, he interrupted. You watch as his eyes flick down to your hand that Brian is still holding, with the ring clearly visible on your left hand, and you can’t hold back a smile as he pieces it all together.

John grins at you and says, “Well, I guess congratulations are in order then. Took you two long enough.”

“Some of us like to take our time with these things,” Brian says, but the jab is good-hearted and some of his annoyance starts to fade away.

“Oh, I didn’t know that tonight’s spontaneity was your idea of taking your time,” you tease. Brian rolls his eyes at you, but he’s smiling again and that counts as a victory in your books.

“You two really are perfect for each other,” John says with a laugh. “Brian, I’ll cover for you with the journalists. In fact, if you just want to head home, I’ll let Roger and Fred know what’s up. I’m sure the two of them would be more than willing to make some distractions to hide your absence.”

“Are you sure?” Brian asks.

You elbow Brian in the side. “Do not question Deacy’s offer. I for one would love to go home and celebrate our new engagement.”

Brian’s face flushes slightly at the implication behind your words, and the flush only deepens when John says, “The rooms upstairs have locking doors, if you’d rather celebrate here.”

“No, no, I think we’ll head home,” Brian says quickly, pointedly ignoring the laughter from both you and John. “Thanks again, John. I owe you one.”

“Consider it your engagement gift,” John says, and he waves goodbye as you and Brian make your escape from the party.

“You know, Freddie’s not going to be happy that we didn’t tell him ourselves,” Brian says idly, as the two of you head towards the car park. “Roger will probably forgive us, considering the circumstances, but we’ll hear about this from Fred.”

You give Brian a wholly unimpressed look. “Would you rather go back and tell him yourself, then?”

“Absolutely not,” Brian says firmly. The two of you have reached his car and as he unlocks the doors he gives you a wide, and somewhat wicked grin, and adds, “The only thing I want to do is get home, and show you exactly how much I love you.”

You and Brian are sneaking away from Queen’s Halloween party, newly-engaged and still in your own costumes. There is no reason that the tiniest bit of innuendo should turn you on, but because it’s Brian it somehow does.

So you grab Brian by the front of his shirt and pull him into a quick, but fierce, kiss. “Well then, Mr. May,” you breathe, hot against his lips. “What exactly are you waiting for?”

#generic-fandom-trash #dtfrogertaylor #halloqueen gift #brian may x reader #brian may fic #brian may fanfic #my fic #brian #halloqueen

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comicgeekscomicgeek · 3 years

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Their Hero Academia - Chapter 72: Summer Shorts Part 1

Presenting the next installment of my on-going, nextgen, MHA fic! Earlier chapters can be found here

Shota Shinso in Student-Teacher Conference

At the knocking at his apartment door, Shota Shinso paused the video he’d been watching, a special counting down the top ten most amazing Hero battles from the previous year. The votes for the battles had come from an online poll, which he’d voted in, so they were probably a little on the biased side rather than being truly objective or anything like that. But he had to admit that most of the ones which had made the cut were the same ones he would have chosen.

Unsurprisingly, Uncle Izuku had made the list twice, for his fights against Doom-Fist and the Maximums. Shoto was on the list two times as well; Ingenium and Gale Force had both made it on there once, as had Kestrel and Rodeo. Red Riot and Real Steel shared a spot on the list. And then there had been Ground Zero’s battle against Megastorm…

He’d had to fast forward through that. It had sent his mind flashing back to the day of the Nomu attack. He’d heard the sounds of tearing flesh and the Nomu’s terrible scream. His hands had felt wet with Ground Zero’s blood as he’d desperately tried to provide what first aid he could. His nostrils had filled with the coppery smell…

It had taken everything he had not to scream and destroy the apartment. At least with Mom and Dad both at work, there hadn’t been anyone else around to see.

He’d been doing so well. He’d actually passed his exams at school and made good use of his Quirk during the Heroics final exam. He was able to be around Kirishima-Bakugo without flinching or expecting her to be mad at him. He only had nightmares about it every so often.

He hadn’t counted on what actually seeing Ground Zero would do to him. Shota had been doing a good job of keeping himself from thinking about him. He’d hidden away his Ground Zero posters, statues, toys, and other merchandise. He’d set his phone and internet browser to screen any mention of him. If he kept himself from thinking about Ground Zero, then he could keep himself from thinking about what happened.

Shota knew what happened wasn’t his fault. He’d been told that often enough now, had enough therapy that he could say it without feeling like it was a lie. But it was still like standing on the edge of a cliff. Somedays, it didn’t take much to send him over the edge.

Dumb, really. He should have expected that Ground Zero would have been in such a video. His fights had always been amazing to watch. His Quirk, his strength, his skill, all of it was… had been simply amazing.

And maybe he wouldn’t be anymore.

Because of him.

Dang it, he was supposed to be moving past this!

He shut his eyes right for a moment, doing the calming exercises Hound Dog had taught him. Deep breaths. Focus his thoughts on where he was, what he could see. Whoever was at the door knocked again, and his eyes snapped open as he got off the couch. “Coming!” he called out.

He opened the door before they could knock again.

“Hey, kid. Can we talk?”

…It was Ground Zero.

***

The park near his apartment was busy today, with lots of kids playing around, happy and carefree. He could see a group of elementary school-age kids using their Quirks to keep a Frisbee up in the air. One had some kind of wind Quirk, another an arm-stretching Quirk, and the third and fourth, who looked like twins, seemed to have some kind of telekinetic push and pull Quirks. He smiled, remembering doing the same kinds of games with Toshi, Shinji, Izumi, and the others as a kid. Of course, there was the time he’d hit the Frisbee with a sonic blast and knocked it out of the park…

Maybe they ought to bring that back. It’d be a fun game and good Quirk training!

He and Ground Zero sat on a bench, eating the ice cream they’d bought. Though lots of Pro Heroes, especially the Top Ten, went out in some measure of disguise when they were off the clock, Ground Zero didn’t bother. He was very good at radiating “keep at least three meters away from me if you know what’s good for you vibes.” It was something his daughter was also extremely good at.

Ground Zero clearly wanted to talk, but Shota didn’t have any idea what it was about. It was all he could do to keep from shaking and panicking. The ice cream gave him something to be present in the moment in, something else Hound Dog had taught him to do when he thought he was going to have a panic attack.

“So,” he said quietly, “you wanted to talk?”

Ground Zero took a moment, as though sizing him up, then nodded. “How you doing, kid? Katsumi says you did pretty good during the exam.” His voice lacked some of its usual hard edge. The question sounded sincere.

Kirishima-Bakugo had talked about him? And said he’d done good? He wouldn’t have expected that. Shota nodded. “It was really nuts! Uncle Shota got actual bad guys to fight us! Even Shadow-Thief! Boy though, did Mom and Dad give him an earful about that! Mom really doesn’t like her for some reason, maybe because Dad says she used to try and flirt with him whenever he’d try and catch her, but that’s silly, because they’ve been married forever now… But yeah, I was one of the last ones left standing, and we zapped the big guy really good….”

It had made him feel like he could actually do something right. It was a good feeling. He’d actually helped his friends when it had really counted.

“That’s good,” Ground Zero said, more indulgently than most adults did when he went on about something. “Sounds like you really kicked their asses.”

Shota actually laughed a little bit at that. Ground Zero definitely had a way with words. “Yeah, I guess we did.” He frowned a little. “What… what about you? Are you doing okay?”

Ground Zero went quiet for a moment, before he went on. “Getting better every day,” he said. “Physical therapy three times a week. Hasn’t been the challenge yet that can beat me. Glasses and Tintin’s wives are working on a better prosthetic. I’ll be kicking ass again before you can blink.”

It sounded reassuring. But it was still a challenge he wouldn’t have been facing if it hadn’t been for Shota. If he hadn’t been trying to keep him safe… Ground Zero looked down for a moment, at his leg, then over at Shota, then sighed. “You know this isn’t your fault, right, kid?”

Shota frowned. He closed his eyes. “Sometimes,” he said after a moment. “Maybe not all the time. But it’s hard not to think it was.”

“It wasn’t,” Ground Zero repeated, more forcefully this time. He tossed the remains of his ice cream in the trash and put a hand on Shota’s shoulder. His grip was firm and strong. “Look at me, kid.” He didn’t speak again until Shota was looking him in the eyes, something that took more willpower than he thought he had.

“Listen,” Ground Zero said. “You, Shota Shinso, are not to blame for what happened to me. Not one damn percent. You got that? Whatever sick f—er, bastard made that damn monster is to blame, not you.”

Shota nodded, mutely. He’d been told that so many times, from so many people. Some days, he believed it. Ground Zero though, was one of the most direct and honest people he knew. If he blamed Shota, he’d have no problem letting him know. If he didn’t blame him, maybe there was some truth to it.

“Good,” Ground Zero told him. “And anytime that thought starts running through your head, I want you to punch it, hard, for me. You picture it, shout kill and let it have it. You got that?”

He nodded again, his head bobbing up and down quickly. He could do that!

Ground Zero looked him over again. He let out a puff of breath. “Look… I ain’t good with words. So maybe I’m not gonna tell this real well, but… Listen, I have been exactly where you are.”

“You?” Shota asked. “But you’re Ground Zero! You’re not afraid of anything! You’re the most confident Hero ever!”

Ground Zero shook his head. “You remember Kamino? All Might’s last fight with that masked potato-faced freak?”

Who hadn’t heard of that? Uncle Izuku had told the story plenty of times of how he and his friends had gone to rescue Ground Zero from the League of Villains, while All Might had battled his long-time enemy. It was the climax of all kinds of documentaries about All Might’s career. Everyone who was around and aware then had a story about where they were when they saw it happen. They studied it in school! He’d seen the video hundreds of times! Shota nodded again.

“I went through the same thing you’re going through,” Ground Zero said. He gazed off into the distance. “I blamed myself for causing All Might’s retirement. I thought if I hadn’t been so weak, hadn’t screwed up and gotten captured, he wouldn’t have had to use up the last of his strength to save me. I blamed myself, for weeks. Without even realizing it, it affected everything I did. I was even nastier and louder and angrier than usual. I was such a shit, I’m amazed any of my friends stuck around. But after I failed the Provisional License Exam, well… let’s just say it took Deku beating some sense into me for me to realize what I’d been carrying around.”

“Really?” Shota asked. He’d never heard this one before! “Uncle Izuku never said anything about that! And you always seem so confident! But you… you blamed yourself too?”

He knew Heroes got scared sometimes. Uncle Izuku had talked about it, so had Uncle Denki, even Uncle Inasa had. Uncle Shota even said that fear was a logical response sometimes. And he knew they had doubts and worries. But of all the Heroes in the world, he never would have expected Ground Zero would!

“Yeah, I did. And there’s still times where I wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t been such an arrogant dumbass back then.” He looked over and smiled a bittersweet smile, then gave Shota’s hair an affectionate tussle. “So don’t go letting me hear you needed Toshi or Katsumi or somebody to beat you up, okay? There’s nothing wrong with needing help. Hell, you start feeling down, you call me, day or night, okay?”

Shota nodded rapidly again, the bad thoughts banished for the moment. He knew they’d be back. “Okay!”

Seemingly satisfied with that, Ground Zero nodded. “Which is kind of why I wanted to talk to you in the first place, kid. You know how All Might’s taking over from Nedzu as principal?”

“Oh yeah!” Shota said. “He’s gonna be really awesome at it, I just know it! He said he might still teach a few classes, but that we’re gonna get a new Heroics’ teacher! He said they were looking into some people, but he didn’t really know who it was going to be…”

Ground Zero cleared his throat and interrupted him. “It’s going to be me.”

“Oh, wow!” Shota said. It was only then that he realized what Ground Zero had actually said. “Wait, what?”

A smile passed over the Hero’s face. “It’s gonna be me. All Might offered me the job before you all went off to Ponytail’s island.”

“Oooh,” Shota said. “You’d be really good at that! I learned a whole bunch when I was your Intern! And Kirishima-Bakugo’s really super talented, so you must have taught her a whole lot too, and you’re one of the most awesome Heroes around, with one of the best fight records and…”

Ground Zero held up his hands. “Breathe, kid. Breathe. I know I’m pretty awesome. So you’re damn right I’ll be a damn good teacher. Even if I have to drag some of your classmates forward kicking and screaming.”

Shota didn’t know who that would be. All his friends and classmates worked so hard and had such amazing Quirks! “But… why would you want to talk to me about that?” he asked. He wasn’t family or anything.

Ground Zero gave him a small, sympathetic smile. “Because I knew you were probably still blaming yourself. Even though I told you not to. I didn’t know how you’d take it if you had to see me every day.”

“What?” Shota asked. The question didn’t make any sense.

“Kid,” Ground Zero said patiently, “you practically had a damn panic attack when I showed up at your door. You’re going to be seeing me every Heroics Class if I take this job.” He tapped his knuckles against his knee. It made a small metallic clang. “And you’ll be thinking about this.”

“That’s not,” he started to say, but stopped himself. He can’t help but stare now, his eyes wide and wet. What if Ground Zero was right? “Maybe.”

This got him a nod. “That’s what I thought. But here’s the deal. If I’m going to be a teacher, then I’ve gotta look out for my students first. Which means I have to look out for you, before I even teach a single class.”

Shota felt his eyes growing wet. “But… but…”

“Aw, for the love of…” Ground Zero started, waving his hands rapidly. “Don’t cry, kid! I cannot deal with crying! You’re worse than Deku, I swear…!”

Shota sucked in a breath and fought back his tears. He couldn’t just cry like that in front of one of his heroes! He wasn’t a baby, even if he was a little younger than all his classmates. He was training to be a Hero. He had to be strong!

Ground Zero was being a Hero. He was thinking of someone else, Shota, putting his needs first, even if it meant he didn’t get to be a teacher. Shota… Shota couldn’t take that away from him! And he’d be a good teacher too, he knew it!

And if he knew what to expect… then maybe he could be ready for it! He could psyche himself up! Hound Dog said that getting in the right mind space was important! He’d even know him all kinds of exercises for how to do it.

“A Hero’s got to be brave,” he said finally. “I can be brave too!” He was almost sure he meant it. He could do it! He could do it! He was getting better every day! He had his bad days, but maybe if he really worked on it…

Then Ground Zero held his gaze and if Shota hadn’t known his Quirk was Explosion, he would have been certain he was reading his mind. “All right,” he said. “I believe you. But I’m going to be watching you. And I’m going to hold you to telling me if you start having trouble, got it? You’re going to be a damn good Hero someday, kid. Especially with me in your corner.”

***

Chihiro Kaminari in Kiss and Make Up

“Chihiro! Chihiro! Watch! Watch me!”

Chihiro looked over to where her eight year old sister, Hikari, was playing on the monkey bars. The purple-haired girl was hanging on by one hand, her other limbs dangling in the air. “Okay, okay,” she said, “I’m watching.”

“Okay… Watch!” Hikari released all her fingers and Chihiro’s heart lurched. If her little sister got hurt on her watch, she was going to be in a load of trouble! She started rushing forward only to realize that Hikari wasn’t falling. Despite her fingers not touching anything, her palm was still flat against the bar and she wasn’t falling.

Chihiro’s Cords perked up as she got closer, tiny sparks dancing along their tips. There was enough electricity flying about that she could feel it. The fact that Hikari’s hair was standing straight up was another clue. She crossed her arms. “Let me guess, Spark Plug,” she said. “You’re using your Quirk?”

“Yep!” Hikari said proudly. “Daddy and I worked real hard on this one!”

Hikari’s Quirk was called Static. It let her absorb ambient static electricity and release it and apparently also stick to things with it like a balloon. She had to laugh a little bit though. She and Dad had certainly driven Mon to yelling at them more times than she could count for doing dumb things with their own Quirks. Her younger brother Reylo got yelled at less often, but only because his Quirk was sound-based and Dad couldn’t teach him anything dangerous.

Chihiro gave her a thumb’s up. “Cool trick,” she said. But she noticed that Hikari’s hair was starting to settle back down. Her Cords were starting to spark less too. She took a few steps forward and held out her arms, letting Hikari fall into them.

“Off!” Hikari said, looking surprised and annoyed. “How come I fell?”

“Ran out of juice,” Chihiro told her. “You don’t make your own electricity, remember?”

“Oh. Right! I knew that.”

Chihiro just laughed again and set Hikari down on the ground, letting her run off to the next piece of playground equipment. Well, at least her little brother Reylo had half a brain. One Kaminari ought to have at least half a chance.

“Stay where I can see you!” she called out. “And that goes for you two too!”

She looked over to where her other charges (Heh. Charges. Why was she always this funny when no one else was around?), a small brown-haired girl and a blond boy: Mako Midoriya and Tai Kirishima-Bakugo, both five years old. When the kids’ regular sitter had bailed, she’d volunteered to watch them. She was already watching Hikari anyway and didn’t have any plans. Plus she was getting two thousand yen each for the two of them. They gave her a friendly wave.

There were also, she would readily admit, advantages to living in a gated community, including a private playground. Almost all the families that lived here were Pro-Heroes, though there were also a few Support Company officers, and a few other careers, such as Mom’s split career as Hero and musician. The kids certainly seemed to enjoy it anyway. She’d already been ten by the time they’d moved in and was starting to get too “cool” for that kind of thing.

Of course, to hear Mom tell it, the reason they bought the house was all Dad’s fault. Dad had brought home a Great Dane puppy instead of groceries… somehow. Since Sparky was going to quickly get too big for their apartment, so they’d gone house shopping. Of course, to hear Dad tell it, Kirishima-Bakugo’s dad had nearly flipped a gasket when he’d found out they were going to be neighbors…

Chihiro let a smile spread across her face as she watched the kids play. Hikari was making herself dizzy, spinning around on the merry-go-round, while Mako and Tai were playing on the teeter-totter. It was nice. Peaceful even. She could quietly zone out just a little bit.

“Stuck on kid duty too, Kaminari?”

Taken by complete surprise, she let out a cry of alarm as she turned. Her Cords shot out and unleashed a mild pulse of electricity the second they made contact with… something.

“AAAAGGGGGGGGGGG!””

Shiro Monoma hit the ground with a small thump.

***

“You killed him!” Hikari shouted. “Mom and Dad are gonna be so mad!”

Chihiro shot her sister a fierce look. “No, I didn’t!” she protested. But as she quickly turned her attention back to Monoma, she wasn’t so sure.

“He’s still breathing,” Monoma’s younger sibling said, sounding disinterested. Takeru, right. That was their name. And non-binary too. Important to remember. Chihiro thought they were the same age as Tai and Mako, but they sounded like they were going on forty. They gave him a look which suggested they’d long grown bored with seeing accidental misfortunes befall their older brother.

“She really made him go zap!” Mako said. “He lifted up and then… Bzzzzt!” As she talked, her hands copied the motions Monoma had gone through.

“Yeah!” Tai agreed. “I saw sparks! It was so cool!”

Chihiro gulped and looked down at Monoma. He was still breathing. That was good. She probably hadn’t hit him with that many volts. He’d just surprised her.

“It’s not my fault!” she said, throwing her hands up in the air as she paced back and forth. “He snuck up on me!”

“Uhhh.” A noise from Monoma caught her attention instantly. His eyes fluttered open. How could someone be electrocuted, fall in the grass, and still be so damn pretty? Especially while wearing a t-shirt and shorts? “What hit me?”

“You snuck up on her and she electrocuted you,” Takeru told him flatly.

“I did no such thing!” Monoma protested. He ignored her hand up in favor of bouncing to his feet under his own power, dusting himself off once he landed.

“You were doing that thing where you don’t make any noise,” Takeru said. “No wonder she didn’t hear you coming.”

“Yeah!” Chihiro said, pointing at him. Maybe she could spin this as his fault after all! “Why do you gotta ninja around all the time?!”

Monoma seemed offended at that, putting a hand to his chest. “I did no such thing! I do not “ninja around!’” He wilted under her glare ever so slightly, however. “Well… perhaps I do have a bit of a silent tread. I can apologize for that, at least. I’m sorry.”

Great, how was she supposed to be mad at him when he was apologizing? Completely unfair! She didn’t want to be thinking about him at all! “Yeah, well…,” she said, “I probably shouldn’t have zapped you. You okay?”

He produced a flick comb from his pocket and fixed his hair. “No harm done, I suppose,” Monoma said.

Chihiro realized the children were all watching them still. “Okay kids,” she said, waving her hands vaguely in the direction of the playground. “Show’s over. Go play!”

Hikari crossed her arms. “Aw, I wanted to see you zap him again!”

“Go!” Chihiro repeated, pointing more dramatically this time. Her little sister turned tail at that. Meanwhile, Takeru was being dragged off by Mako and Tai under half-hearted protests.

“So…,” she ventured, looking back at Monoma. This was definitely awkward. Why the hell didn’t she keep the kids around? Now all she could think about was how he’d kissed her and how Mika had said she should date him! Maybe she should shock him again, run away, move to a new city, start a new life on the run singing for coins on street corners…

Okay, maybe not that bad.

“Um, yes,” Monoma said, and she was somehow glad to see the awkwardness was mutual. It was so rare to see him as anything less than composed that she considered it a victory even in embarrassment.

And then he said the most dangerous words of all.

“Can we talk?”

***

They were far enough away that they wouldn’t be overheard, but not so far away that they couldn’t keep an eye on the kids. Hikari had met up with one of her friends and Chihiro gave a wave to the kid’s parents before giving Monoma as much of her attention as she could.

“So,” she said. Her Cords make small circles through the air, as she crossed her arms. “You wanted to talk. Talk. I’m listening.”

“Ah, yes, well,” Monoma began. Alarm bells were already ringing in her head. Granted, her guard was always up around him. Sure, she’d eat lunch with him with Mika, Koda, and Fukidashi or Tetsutetsu. He was tolerable in small doses. Especially if he kept his mouth shut. But she’d never seen him as at a loss for words as this.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have just kissed you like that without asking. It wasn’t very gentlemanly of me. I was… overcome with emotion at resolving some of my own issues, and let my exuberance get the better of me.”

Chihiro blinked slowly. She definitely hadn’t been expecting an apology. Even with the one he’d given a few minutes ago, she wasn’t even sure he really knew how to apologize. But she looks over and he was so earnestly apologetic that even her background level of irritation at him started to fade. “It’s, ah, it’s fine,” she said. “You were excited. Happens.”

He looked a bit surprised. “That’s happened before?”

She had to laugh at that. “No, that one was definitely a first.” Her left Cord shot out and gave him a soft poke in the chest. “Definitely wasn’t expecting my first kiss to be you though.”

He looked offended at that. “That was not a first kiss. All I did was kiss you on the cheek!”

“A kiss is a kiss!” she shouted at him, moving closer. “Doesn’t matter where it was!”

“You’re out of your mind!”

“I thought you were apologizing!”

“I did! You were the one who tried to turn it into a semantics argument!”

“It’s not semantics if I’m right! That! Was! A! Kiss!”

Their faces were mere centimeters from each other now. His eyes were big, blue, and ever so close. He really was just too ridiculously pretty for his own good. Probably spent more time in front of the mirror than she did. About the only person who might outdo him in the hair and skin care regime was Aoyama.

“That wasn’t a kiss!” Monoma snapped. “If I’d really wanted to kiss you, I’d have done it like this!”

Before she could blink, he’d reached out and put his arms around her, spinning her around into a low dip, before planting his lips on hers. Her eyes went wide as he held the kiss for a long moment, before spinning her back into a standing position.

“What the hell?!” she snapped. “What the hell was that?!” Her Cords flew about her head like angry snakes, sparking with electricity.

“I… I don’t… it just happened!” Monoma said, backing away from her nervously. He looked ready to run and hide. Good! Who did he think he was, kissing her like this was some made for tv romantic movie where they yelled and kissed?!

She pointed her Cords at him aggressively, taking aim, her face flush with anger. “I oughta just take you out!”

His eyes widened in surprise, but then he smiled that same smug, irritating, and entirely too good looking smile. “Well.. Why not?” he asked. “I am finding your company surprisingly enjoyable, even without Mika as a barrier. Pick me up at seven tomorrow evening then?”

Her mouth dropped open. She could feel her mental footing slipping away as she shifted lanes from furious to baffled in the space of an eye blink. Mika’s advice to give him a chance came back to her. And she definitely wasn’t about to admit that she’d really enjoyed that kiss. But the other hand, he was absolutely infuriating. And sure, he’d shown her a more vulnerable side back at school…

Her Cords sagged, the sparks fading. “…What?”

“That, ah, that is… if you want to,” he said. Awkwardness replaced the smugness. And now he had his hands up, protecting his face, as he backed up. “We could go on a date. And I promise no more kissing.”

The words unless you want to hung silently in the air.

“Why me?” she asked, after letting him squirm uncomfortably for a moment. “I know Mika’s your ex. Going from her to me has to be a pretty steep downgrade.”

He looked puzzled for a moment, until his eyes widened in realization. He crossed his arms. “You do remember I used to date her before she, ah, blossomed. I’m not so shallow as to be purely attracted to… that.”

Okay, he did have a point there. “Okay, but the first question still stands. You’re all fancy pants and I’m… me. In fact, up until you kissed me, I was pretty sure you didn’t even like me.”

A blush spread across Monoma’s face and he smiled sheepishly. “Mika insists I have a thing for women who can beat me up. You do fall into that category, of course, but the fact remains that you are a fascinating and attractive woman. You’re talented, with varied interests, and you are entirely willing to call me out to my face when I’m being a pretentious asshole. After some rather blunt conversations and realizations… I’m… trying harder not to be that person anymore.”

Okay. That was… actually pretty respectful sounding. Which was definitely a first for him when it came to her. Sounded like somebody had called him out. Mika, maybe? Or Tetsutetsu? Koda was too nice to have done it…

“Okay, fine,” she said. She tried to project with her tone that she was doing him a favor, not that she was actually possibly maybe kind of interested in him. “We can go on a date. On one, no, two conditions.”

He seemed surprised at that. “All right, I completely understand if you don’t wish to…. Wait, what?”

“One, no more kissing me out of the blue. You try it, and I’ll shock you so bad you’ll never get your hair to look right again.”

He chuckled. It was actually somewhat pleasant when it wasn’t paired with taunts. “A tremendous threat. Very well. And the other?”

“Don’t you dare tell Ojiro about this. Or put it on-line or anything where she can somehow find out about it. I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Monoma nodded. “I suppose that’s reasonable. So long as you do the same with regards to Fukadashi. I don’t need her comparing me to some anime or manga more than she already does.”

He had a point there. Fukidashi was weird. And given the company she kept, that was saying something. “Deal. It’s a date.”

“YAY!”

Chihiro’s head snapped around and she saw that the kids were staring at them. Hikari was the one who’d shouted, but they all looked enthralled. Well, everyone but Takeru did.

“How long have you been watching?!” she demanded.

“Long enough,” Takeru said. They looked over at Chihiro. “You should have shocked him again. Otherwise he won’t learn anything.”

She had to laugh at that. “Okay,” she said. “You, I like.”

“Yay! A date!” Mako said. “My big sister went on a date too! With Haruto Sero!” She danced about as she talked, kicking up a little bit dust. “Ah… ah… choooo!”

Chihiro’s eyes went wide as Mako’s Fire-Breath Quirk went active with her sneeze. Instantly, she tackled Monoma to the ground, as a blast of flame went through where his head had just been. Her face went flush as she realized how close they were again. Hastily, she shoved herself up and off him.

She offered Monoma a hand up and this time he took it. His hands weren’t anywhere near as soft as his pretty boy imagine would have suggested, she realized. “Sorry about that. She doesn’t have full control of her Quirk yet.”

“Quite, quite all right,” Monoma said, sounding a bit shook from his near-fire experience. He was blushing too, she noticed. He dusted himself off. “But seven, tomorrow then, if that’s agreeable to you?”

“Yeah, all right,” she said.

Great. That gave her more than a day to figure out how to explain to her dad she was dating a Monoma.

One date. Not dating.

She definitely wasn’t thinking about kissing him. …Dating him! And she wasn’t thinking about that either!

…Crap.

#my hero academia #their hero academia #shiro monoma #chihiro kaminari #shota shinso #katsuki bakugo #fan fiction #fan fic #my writing

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mollymauk-the-peacock · 4 years

Text

Did I mention that Jess is a werewolf now?

Oh... well Jess is a werewolf now...

The whole excerpt of our role-playing below the cut if that’s of interest. It’s a lot of text, but it was one of my favorite campaign twists. Slightly edited for brevity, though not much. (Though removed instances of rolls and combat, as they took a bit out of the narrative when presented)

Cast of characters:

Poesy - (My PC) Human Gunslinger

Dottidee aka Dots - (PC) Gnomish Arcane Trickster/Feylock; wielder of a legendary blade, Shadow’s Edge, that allows her to shift to the Shadowfell at will and sense the goings on of the parallel plane within the immediate area.

Jesse Edgewood - (NPC) Human Gunslinger/Bard; Poesy’s SO; Party knowledge prior was that Jess had been bitten by a shifted werewolf but didn’t undergo the change, which is not uncommon for individuals in our world. It remains dormant in your system forever, unless otherwise triggered by circumstances (news to us)

Clint Perch - (NPC) Young orphaned human druid; adopted by the town, lives with Jess

Brent - (Villain NPC) Half-elf Gunslinger/assassin; trained under Parre Despa, the man who once was Jesse’s teacher and the who orchestrated the original attack that ended with Jesse’s latent lycanthropy and ultimately sought to destroy Jesse’s family from the inside; the son of the Necromancer and nephew of the Death Cleric the party is currently attempting to end; apparent spy planted in the party’s chosen hometown/base of operations (we didn’t know he existed until a few days prior)

The Children of the Moon - (Group) Lycans of a sort, more magically-driven, less biological and fey than the sort of lycanthropy that affects the werewolves of Edgewood.

Annise - (NPC) Changeling Leader of the Shadows, the spy sect of the Champions mercenary group (Of which Dots and Jess are members)

Thaesilvancii - (NPC) Fledgling demigod protector of Sharvel; a silver dragon

Shaen - (NPC) Half-elf, second to the leader of Champion’s defense forces, stationed at the North Tower.

Yenra - (NPC) Half-elf leader of the Champion’s Clerics

Ceila - (NPC) High Elf leader of the Champion’s Arcanists

Robert Balten - (NPC) Human Ranger; Long time family friend of Poesy’s; as good as a second brother; leader of military group the Talons operating from their home city-state Mountbatten

Edgewood Family - Shannon (Mom), John (oldest brother), Jacob (younger brother), Sarah (younger sister)

Setting:

Sharvel, a crossroads town, growing larger by the day, chosen by the party as their apparent base of operations. Poesy lives with Jesse in his small house off the stables and smithy along with Clint and Jesse’s sister Sarah. Dots lives in the Inn across the town square from Jesse’s with her daughter Serasee.

North Tower, centralized Champion outpost

{” ”} --- Indicates some sort of telepathic communication, ie. message, telepathy, etc...

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

Sharvel; 3rd day of Earth, Ruen, 773

Moon Phases: Longun - Full moon | Von - full moon

Season: Fall

Time: Just past midnight

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

DM: The night grows darker and you all find rest in familiar beds. Sleep comes quickly. You both, with your unnatural perceptions, hear the crash, but to Poesy it is like the world is splintering around her. She wakes to the dim light of the moons shining through the bedroom window. To Dots, the crash was distant, but loud.

Poesy realizes almost immediately that she cannot move. There is a stale smell and she feels off, almost drunk.

Dots: Can I tell where the sound came from?

Poesy: Is there any light in the room?

Dots: Wandering into the hall...

DM: There is enough light for Poesy to see, and now you can start to turn your head. You are alone in the bed and the bedroom door is open. There's candlelight coming from the next room. Dots, it's hard to tell. There's no commotion from the Inn’s patrons. Poesy's arms and legs start moving sluggishly. Tingling painfully.

You've been drunk enough to know that this is probably chemical, but it's something else. Maybe some kind of poison. Dots, it's quiet, just past midnight.

Poesy is finally able to sit up.

Poesy: Reaching over to the bedside table and grabbing Reciprocity as quietly as possible

DM: She can see the candle and something next to it, shiny. Something small.

Poesy: ... what is it?

DM: Poesy manages to stand, holding the wall.

Dots: No broken windows visible? Going back to bed, then...

DM: She makes her way to the table where a single candle illuminates a note.

The note reads:

Enough rest, it's time to go hunting.

-Brent

The shiny object is a silver bullet.

From beyond the ruined door Poesy hears the not so distant sound of a wolf's howl piercing the silence of the night.

Clint: "What was it!?"

Poesy: Snagging it and the note. Thrusting it out to Clint

DM: Clint is groggy, holding the wall.

Poesy: Going to grab her gun belt and boots. Are Jesse's things still where they should be?

DM: They are, but his night shirt is in shreds on the floor.

Poesy: Fantastic.

Clint: "Who's Brent?"

Poesy: Putting Jesse’s belts on bandolier-style after her coat over her nightdress.

Clint: He pauses and sniffs the air, then looks Poesy in the eyes.

Poesy: "The sick fuck who's been sticking his rat nose into things in Sharvel..."

Clint: "It's Jesse, isn't it?"

Poesy: "He's done something to him, hasn't he?"

Clint: "Go, I'll tell everyone. Monks first."

Poesy: Handing him one of the spare revolvers from her things, "Be careful."

DM: He gives a nod before he's gone. Clint flies out the door, sprinting barefoot through the street toward the monastery.

Poesy: Running across the street to the Inn. Finding Dots. Just straight up banging on her door as loud as possible.

Dots: "Aah. Be right there.."

Poesy: "Jesse's gone. Brent was here."

Dots: Throwing on her harness over her nightclothes.

Poesy: "Fucker drugged me. Did something to Jesse..."

Dots: "Gone where?"

Poesy: "I don't know," Handing her the note and bullet, "Clint's gone to the monks."

"The door was smashed down. Out towards town. We need to follow."

Does it feel like anything is off about the bullet? Is it one of Poesy's/Jesse's or is it strange?

DM: It's Merit sized, looks well made. Nothing else peculiar other than it being silver.

Dots: Already heading towards the front door. "When you say Brent *did something* to Jesse..? Hurt him? Is Jesse fleeing?"

Poesy: "I don't know. But this," pointing to the silver bullet, "doesn't bode well. Especially considering the state of things in the house..."

"I don't even know what I'm thinking at this point. But nothing good has happened."

"And that's not my bullet. We should move quickly..."

"But careful. Don't need to barrel into some bullshit trap. That's what he wants, clearly."

Dots: "Poesy, nothing you said makes sense to me, but if we need to rescue Jesse, I'm ready."

Poesy: "I don't even *know* what's happening... We'll start at the house."

Poesy's already moving

"Do you feel anything? Off? With the Shadowfell?"

DM: Dots has spent plenty of time scoping out various areas for threats within the Shadowfell, so she'll know when something is off. For just such an occasion as this. Something is popping in and out of the Shadowfell. Distant. She only feels the transition.

Dots: "There's.. like something... blipping. Moving between the planes."

DM: Returning to the house it's clear there are large wolf tracks at the back door.

Dots: "Is this Clint?"

Poesy: She shakes her head

Dots: "That way." Dots points.

Poesy: Activating the Telestones. (**enchanted, paired stones allowing Telepathy between the party for an hour)

DM: You are both suddenly overwhelmed with a rush of emotions. Fear... anger... hunger. You know it's Jesse, but it is raw.

Poesy: {"Jesse? Where are you?"}

Dots: "Oh, I don't like whatever in the hells THIS is.."

Poesy: Poesy looks quite disconcerted, "Um... all signs were pointing towards something... wolf? In nature? Like the kind we were researching... not the Children..."

"The kind Jesse's already been involved with... thanks to Despa..."

"Unless that's precisely what he wants me to think and I just don't know at all..."

"There was an odd smell... Chemicals. I couldn't move. Jesse's clothes were in tatters. The note and the bullet were laid out to be found. Back door destroyed..."

Is there any sense of where Jesse's at?

{"Love? Can you come to me?"}

Dots: "Can chemicals turn a man into a wolf? Are they like magic?"

Poesy: “Couldn’t say. I don’t know exactly what they’ve done. Or really what happened to Jesse before when he got bit. It’s all... I’m at a loss.”

DM: You both feel the rage turn from an eleven down to about an eight.

Then you smell what he smells, the city, animals, people, and you feel him recognize Poesy's scent.

The unmistakable sound of a rifle echoes through the night answered by a pained howl.

Lights are starting to turn on.

Poesy: Where'd the shot come from?

DM: Dots feels more movement in the Shadowfell. At least several hundred yards away and not aimed at you.

Poesy: Heading off to the sound, running that way, the howl, if its a different trajectory.

Dots: Running. Full speed. {"Poesy, I might need to check out the Shadowfell. If I disappear, I'll be back in a minute."}

Poesy: She nods, still moving towards the howl.

To Jesse, not expecting a real response, {"Are you okay? Are you hurt?"}

DM: The response is pain, you feel it in your left thigh.

The two of you run.

You don't spend much time in this part of Sharvel. It's mostly houses, two stories, sometimes three. Tight alleys and cobble streets with dim street lamps. Most of the light comes from the two full moons.

Dots, you haven't felt the disturbance from the shadowfell for few hundred feet, it's only occasional and it hops around. Suddenly you round a corner and spot Brent for a split second, then he disappears into a shadow. You feel him blink through the Shadowfell and then you feel him on the rooftop above, his footsteps sprinting away.

Dots: {"This motherfucker is jumping through planes AND distances at the same time!"}

Poesy: {"Can you catch him? But don't go too far.... I need to find Jesse."}

Are there townspeople coming out now with all the ruckus?

DM: There are, mostly curious, a few carrying clubs or pitchforks but looking defensive.

Poesy: "INSIDE. NOW."

DM: A few do run inside, but some barely seem to hear you. Nobody is looking for trouble.

You hear him first. Heavy footsteps on a roof. Tiles falling into an alley. Chasing after him it's hard to tell where he is exactly until suddenly you feel his breath on your hair. He's breathing heavily, so heavily you feel like his breath alone could knock you over.

Poesy: Turning... What am I looking at here...

DM: He's easily two feet taller than you, at least nine feet tall, if he weren't hunched over. This beast in Jesse's night pants is all muscle and hair and teeth as long as her fingers.

He whines, scratching at his thigh.

Poesy: Not stepping back, but it's pretty clear that it's rather terrifying... "Could you... get down please." Gesturing for him to sit down lower.

DM: He crouches.

Poesy: He seems pretty lucid?

DM: Nearly. He looks wild, scared, ready to snap. You're pretty secluded.

Dots: "Jesse...*

Poesy: Tentatively petting along the side of his face... trying to get a look at the bullet wound. While attempting to offer some little distraction.

DM: He growls a little, but allows it.

Poesy: "Breathe, please..."

DM: Dots, you feel Brent coming.

Dots: "Jesse, hold still. Don't do anything, please."

DM: Jesse turns toward Brent's approach, his hair bristling.

Dots: Cast invisibility on Jesse.

DM: Jesse vanishes. You can feel him calming down.

Poesy: Poesy pulls her hand away carefully

Dots: Standing between Jesse and wherever I'm sensing Brent. "Here he comes."

Poesy: Reciprocity is out and oh-so-ready

Dots: Grabbing Shadow's Edge...

DM: Both of you feel arms, massive, furred arms, wrap around you before you fly into the air, bounding across rooftops like ragdolls.

Dots: {-oof- "That works too..." }

DM: He is barely outpacing Brent, who is in your trail without deviation. He finally comes to a stop in his stable.

Dots: "He's still coming. We need to end this!"

Poesy: Pulling on his arm to be let loose, "Get *down*, Jesse. You're hurt." She points to a corner or somewhere with cover, then nods to Dots.

Using the Telestone to try and gauge Jesse's emotions, {"What was that for?"}

DM: Jesse sets you down. All you get from Jesse is fear.

Then he's gone. You don't feel him near you.

Dots, Brent turns North, headed out of town.

Poesy: "No...”

{"Where are you!?"}

Dots: "What in the hells just happened?"

"Quick, the horses! He's leaving town, but if we stay close I think I can track him!"

Poesy: Is there any sign at all of where Jesse's gone?

Poesy nods absently to Dots and helps with horses, "Which direction, Dots?"

DM: They mount the horses and head for the north. Dots, you hear his footsteps.

Poesy: Grabbing the sending stone, messaging Clint, {"Clint, where are the monks? Brent is leaving town now. North. Jesse's... not good, but we'll figure it out."}

Clint: {"Lilia and Harlen are looking. North, got it. We contacted the Children of the Moon. Do not let him kill."}

DM: Chasing after them on horseback, soon things get very quiet. Only the sounds of the horses on the open road.

Dots: Can I see them?

DM: You can feel Brent, he has a lead.

Poesy: {"Jesse? Where are you? I need you to let me know."}

Dots: {"I think they're IN the Shadowfell."}

Poesy: "Clint's told the monks Lilia and Harlen will be coming this way, with any luck."

To Jess, through the stones, {"Don't hurt anyone. Even Brent. Even if you really want to. Just stay back. We'll find you."}

Dots: "What could he be trying to do..? And WHY?"

Poesy: To Dots, "Children of the Moon are coming as well... Figure out what happened. Clint says Jesse can't kill. I don't know what that would lead to."

Dots: "If we get close enough, I might be able to stop Brent. Physically, at least."

Poesy: "We can end Brent, if the opportunity is provided. Just don't let Jesse do it."

Dots: "Right!"

DM: Brent is slowing.

Poesy: {"Love, I know you're afraid, I could feel it, just stay safe. Away from others, so they don't do anything out of shock. Just stay safe, and we'll be there soon."}

Focusing on the road, trying to keep an eye out for Brent. Putting on goggles (**Goggles of Night) and unslinging Merit

Dots: "We're gaining on him. But if he can jump through planes at will - and how IS he doing that? - then we'd have to incapacitate him with our first attacks, or lose him. I can't do it safely more than a couple times."

"I can go to the Shadowfell alone.. then no matter where he jumped, one of us would be on him.. "

Poesy: "If you think it will help... But we'll also be alone until you can move again. Don't get stuck."

Dots: "Hey, I don't want that any more than you do. Less, probably!"

DM: As you round a turn you see a flash in the distance.

Poesy is nearly pushed off her horse as a bullet tears through her shoulder, but holds tight to the reins.

Dots feels another jump

Poesy sees him occasionally, glimpses.

Dots: Dots hops off her horse; shifting to the Shadowfell - full speed on foot.

Poesy: Poesy steadies her hand, aiming her revolver for his next appearance, intending to aim for his legs.

DM: Brent takes a shot in the leg, but continues to move. Dots, you're closing.

He's orbiting, trying to flank Poesy

Poesy feels a second shot graze her ribs as she rides on before Brent disappears into the Shadowfell once more.

When he reappears, Poesy takes a second shot towards his legs which strikes true, and knocks him prone on his back.

Dots, closing in on Brent from within the Shadowfell uses the moment to shift back while plunging Shadow’s Edge into his chest.

She feels a sudden RIP, the dagger is nearly torn from her grasp.

Brent is ripped away from her and lifted into the air by a leg by an invisible Jesse.

Dots: "Jesse, dammit, no!"

Poesy: "NO! JESSE, NO!" Racing that way still, fuck.

If Brent is dangling for any extended period of time, Poesy's gonna empty Reciprocity on him.

DM: Jesse appears, growling with Brent's head fully in his open mouth.

Brent is screaming.

Poesy, fire away

Poesy: "JESSE, PLEASE."

Dots: Shoving my arms into Jesse's mouth.

Poesy unloads six shots into Brent’s chest

DM: Jesse drops him as Dots intervenes.

Brent is dead.

Poesy: Running over to check on Jesse

Dots: Immediately dropping to search Brent's corpse.

Poesy: Making sure he didn't do any real damage to Brent himself? Hoping that having someone die in your mouth doesn't count...

Just unabashedly grabbing him by the furry face and looking over him to see if anything has changed.

Dots: "If his *relatives* are tracking him, we need to find out - and fast. And I want to know how he could jump planes so quickly."

Poesy: Not at all listening to anything, sobbing openly, "I told you! I told you not to hurt him!"

Dots: "...And if he's got any damn antidote..."

DM: Jesse whines.

Brent doesn't have an antidote, but he has a spellbook. One of the spells is Suggestion.

Jesse is breathing heavily again, but now he's also over the place, stressed.

Poesy: Tugging him to the side and nudging him to sit down. Shushing him, trying to be relaxing, but probably not effective, really.

Dots: "Poesy, you might want to check that gun of his - I'd be surprised if it wasn't enchanted. And I found a spellbook, but no arcane focus... so you might look his corpse over while you're at it, since I obviously missed *something*.

"Jesse will be okay for a minute. Look at this, Jesse." Pulling out my mechanical bird & winding it up.

Poesy: "I will." Poesy mops her face with a sleeve, gestures for Jesse to stay where he is.

Taking a deep breath and shaking it out. Having a look over Brent. Then inspecting the gun.

Dots: "You've looked better, Jesse - I have to say."

Poesy: Looking for anything magical or seeming like it has the potential. Whatever he used to bamf. Searching for whatever he used on Jesse, if anything. Whatever could have caused the chemical smell. What he used to drug Poesy.

DM: Brent has an enormous vial, probably a potion. He also has a smoky black tattoo in one arm. His rifle is obviously custom, probably enchanted.

He's also got a mask that looks strange and a round object that resembles a canteen.

Dots: "Okay, I missed more than one thing..."

Poesy: Stashing all the things in the portable hole in the safe.

Smelling the inside of the canteen?

DM: Same smell as the house.

Poesy: Chemicals? Is this shit ether?

DM: Basically

Poesy: Wincing and stashing it too.

DM: Jesse points to the forest, whining.

Poesy: Poesy leans close to Brent’s face, "I hope your dad watched."

Standing, moving back to Jesse, "Dots, there's a tattoo. You might want to get a look at it, in case you see it again."

What's happening in the forest?

DM: He seems like he wants to go. You feel his fear, anxiety.

Poesy: {"What's the matter?"} Taking one of his hands

DM: You see him attacking someone, feel fear, then him in the forest and you just feel loneliness.

Poesy: Is the someone a generic thought or does it feel like a memory? Just a fear?

DM: Generic. His fear.

Poesy: Trying to project a calming feeling to him, reassuring. {"You're going to be okay."}

Slipping out the anchor, "I've got this too? If that helps you feel better. There's nothing to fear, we'll be fine."

DM: He isn't making a break for it, but he's definitely anxious.

Poesy: Sitting down in front of him.

DM: He grabs your hands and points it at himself.

Poesy: "If we need it."

"Dots, can you get a message to Annise? See how things are proceeding in Sharvel, if she can't find out. Let them know where we are."

Dots: "Where are those damned monks, anyway?"

Poesy: "Slow, it seems."

Dots: "I was just thinking about exactly that."

Poesy: "Say it loud enough that Harlen's ears might itch." Smiling at Jesse, trying to ease the mood.

Dots: "How far outside town are we now, Poesy? And in what direction? I'm disoriented from the shifting."

Poesy: “Not far. Two hours ‘til sunrise”

Poesy carefully repositions herself on the ground however necessary to not have hers or Jesse's back to Sharvel, should someone come up behind. So it's not surprising.

Dots: {"Annise, we're just north from Sharvel. We killed Brent, but Jesse is... changed... we need help."}

Poesy: She puts the anchor in her lap and tucks her nightgown around her legs, getting comfortable. Holding both his hands. Humming that silly song they sang together on their walk earlier in the day.

Has Jesse got any blood on him that doesn't appear to be his own? Or byproduct of Brent.

DM: He doesn't, but he's increasingly agitated. Hungry.

Poesy: Singing the song out loud, making up dumb lyrics about Sharvel

Annise: {"You're who Lilia is tracking, I'll tell her. Sending help."}

DM: Jesse seems to calm, but the hunger is clearly growing.

Dots: Through the telepathy stones: {"Lilia's on her way."}

"Poesy!" Tossing some meat rations to her.

Poesy: Holding them out carefully to him, "Do you want these? Think they'll help?"

DM: He sniffs them and his stomach growls audibly, but he declines.

Poesy: "Do you want to stay in the portable hole? The others will be here soon."

"I left the mantle at home... I can't get you anywhere quickly, I'm sorry."

DM: As you say this, you get the sense suddenly that something big is near. Then one of the moons blinks. Something blocked it for an instant. The presence shifts and a silver robed man approaches.

Thaesilvancii: "Hello."

DM: Jesse instantly goes down a notch.

Dots: "Old friend!" Jumping up to greet him.

Sil: "I apologize for frightening you, it was the only way to arrive quickly."

Dots: "No apologies needed! We're desperately glad to see you!"

DM: Jesse starts scratching at himself, pleading for help.

Poesy: A mite confused, "It's *very* good to see you." She grabs his other hand again so he doesn't hurt himself in that panic... "Can you help, Sil?"

Sil: "Calm, friend," he gestures.

DM: Jesse calms instantly.

Sil: "I cannot cure him, but I can ease his stress."

Poesy: "Anything helps... Do you know... how? What we can do?"

DM: He reaches out, touches Jesse's snout, and the werewolf falls asleep.

Poesy: "Oh!" Trying to not let him drop hard, as much as she can manage to guide his massive body.

Dots: "That'll do.."

DM: He's snoring gently and if Poesy closes her eyes she can barely tell the difference from normal Jesse snores.

Poesy: "Well.... that's quite something..." She pauses for a moment... "What the fuck is this? What did he do to him!?"

"The bastard drugged me and did something and next I knew..." Poesy gestures to Jesse in his current state, "What was he aiming at?"

Sil: "I cannot tell you precisely what's happened to him, it's not an enchantment."

Dots: "Not.. an enchantment? Then.. what else could it possibly be?"

Sil: "Possibly something more natural, though quite foreign to me."

Poesy: She pulls her knees up to her chin and stays seated beside him.

"Are the others on their way?"

"Clint mentioned Children of the Moon..."

Sil: He nods, "Most are keeping their distance. The Children may have answers, but his own family may have more."

Poesy: "They already know what's happened?"

Sil: "No, I thought it best to assess the situation."

Poesy: She nods, "How are we getting him home? Will this last, or will he wake soon?"

Dots: "You might not want to hear this, Poesy, but I think if we can't.. fix him right away, we should get him to the cells. Someplace we can hold him where he can't hurt himself or anyone else."

Poesy: "The sun will be rising soon enough... hopefully things will get easier... But you're right."

"And he'd insist, really... already wanted me to use the anchor, anyway..."

Sil: "I can take him to the North Tower, to secure him. He would give his life to prevent harm to an innocent."

"I must leave you there though. My duty is to protect Sharvel."

Dots: "Can you take this corpse as well? We don't want to misplace it. It might help us find out what happened. "

DM: He looks at the corpse, then wiggles a finger and a large chest appears. The corpse rises, falls inside, and the chest closes and disappears.

Poesy: Still watching Jesse’s sleeping, wolfish form, "Taking him now?"

Sil: "I'll call ahead."

Poesy: Nodding, "He was shot earlier. He'll need some healing too."

Sil: "They're ready. Healing, I believe they will have such resources," Sil starts moving you into position, "Are you ready?"

Poesy: Shrugging and nodding...

DM: He motions in the air and a shimmering point appears, then expands. It's a portal into the cells under the tower. But then the portal moves and you're in the tower basement, on the opposite side of a set of bars from Jesse. The portal closes and Sil is gone.

Dots, you remember stories of the werewolves who lived near your home, not far from Edgewood, but few hard details.They were said to hunt only at night though and return to being human during the day.

Poesy: Poesy lets out a long shaky breath before moving close to the bars. Jesse still asleep through that?

DM: He seems unfazed. You hear hurried steps coming down the stone stairs. The footsteps stop, there's a pause, and the door opens slowly. Shaen enters alone, unarmed, unarmored. He points toward Dri'lien's cell and two men silently open it and take him away. He gawks a bit, but remains silent.

Shaen: Whispering, "What do you need?"

Poesy: "I don't know... Is Yenra here?"

Shaen: "She is, yes. If you need anything, anyone, we'll get whatever . . . I'm so sorry, Poesy."

Poesy: She shakes her head, "I don't even know what to think yet. What we can do..."

Shaen: "Everyone is awake. EVERYONE. They're all working on this right now."

Poesy: "Good. Yenra... and we need to send for Shannon. John. Maybe they'll know more... But not while he's like this."

Shaen: "I think I hear her coming. She'll patch up that wound."

DM: There's a soft tap on the door and Jesse stirs with a low growl. Shaen opens the door for Yenra. She silently goes to the bars and reaches through, placing a hand on him without hesitation.

Poesy: Crouching close, but out of arm's reach should that not be a good wakeup

DM: He twitches, then snores more. She whispers her spell and the wounds close completely. She gets an odd expression, then casts another spell.

Yenra: "Poison, both of you." She barely speaks, more mouthing the words almost silently.

Poesy: "I was assuming..." Stepping back and laying out the portable hole in the open space and retrieving all the things we took off him. Passing the flask to Yenra. And the weird mask.

Yenra: "It's an Edrian poison gas, that would have put you to sleep, kept you that way." She spots the vial and picks it up, smelling it, "A potion?"

Poesy: "No idea."

Dots: "And a poison made Jesse like this too? "

Yenra: "I'll see if one of the arcanists can identify it."

Poesy: "Thank you.” Pulling out a blanket from the portable hole too. Putting it over Jesse best that can be done through the bars.

Yenra: "If it were a curse . . maybe a restorative spell. I'll see if we have the components." She brushes away a tear, "We'll bring him back, Poesy."

Poesy: Giving her a watery smile, "Thank you, Yenra."

DM: There are more footsteps and the door opens hastily.

Datan: "Gods . . it's true."

DM: Ceila is right behind him as Yenra leaves.

Poesy: Poesy's just giving up on trying to stem the crying. Between the visitors and exhaustion, it's just not worth the effort. Giving them room. If they're moving closer to the cell

DM: Neither do. Ceila takes the vial from Yenra and begins examining it. Datan steps a little closer, but is using some magic.

Datan: "He's still with us, Poesy. Still in there."

Poesy: "I know. He was quite present. Until it started getting more difficult. He thinks he has to leave, though, I'm sure of it."

Datan: "Robert is on his way, he said he has some experience. Something about 'rangers'."

Poesy: "I suppose he would. He's still surprising me."

Dots: "What about rangers?"

Poesy: "Edgewood Rangers, presumably. Though I'm not sure what exactly they have to do in this case... But Robert's a Talon. He must have some information we're not privy to there."

Ceila: "This is a rage potion."

Poesy: Poesy sighs, "That might explain the door.... what does it do exactly?"

Ceila: "It makes everything a target, but . . " she steps aside as Robert arrives.

Robert: "Werewolves are immune to psychotropics. Immune to disease." He rushes to Poesy and wraps her in a hug.

Poesy: Mostly just collapsing into it

Robert: "We didn't learn much, some basics. Dirty tricks did this. Along with a very old bite."

Poesy: "How? What sort of tricks?"

Robert: "Anything to piss him off. The rage induces the change, song with the full moons and possibly some magic. It's... been done before."

Poesy: "Can anything stop it now?"

Robert: "He needs to control it. He needs to face the dawn without killing anyone."

Dots: "... Every dawn?"

Robert: He shakes his head. "After tonight his fate will be decided."

Poesy: "I don't think he has, but he was alone before we could reach him... And the way Brent died... He didn't do it... I think... Finish it, at least..." she rambles on, quite quickly.

Robert: "Can't change any of that now. Will he comply? He has to see the sun come up and the sky is getting light."

Poesy: "He didn't try to hurt us. But it was getting harder. Mostly harder to just keep him from leaving. He was afraid of hurting anyone."

"He has to be awake?"

Robert: "There's no choice. If he's down here he might never change back." Robert nods.

Poesy: “Let me know what to do. Make everyone move. Nobody outside."

DM: The snoring has stopped and you realize Jesse is watching Robert.

Dots: Glancing at Poesy for guidance..

Poesy: Looking at Jesse, "You heard all that, then?"

Robert: "I'll clear a path to the top. Don't delay."

DM: Jesse grunts. Robert leaves and starts barking orders in a tone Poesy has definitely never heard. Jesse scoots to the back of the cell.

Poesy: "Dots, can you follow along in the Shadowfell? Is it safe here for you to do that?"

Dots: "I can. Tell me when - I won't be able to stay long."

Poesy: "If something's wrong... come, but no sooner. I don't want you in harm's way, okay?"

Stepping up to the bars, "Love, you'll come with me?"

DM: He steps forward, but grabs the bars to hold the door shut.

Dots: "... Maybe you're too close to him? He's very emotional right now... Want me to try?"

Poesy: Poesy lets out a choked sob and nods to Dots before stepping back, "Not too close.”

Taking off Jesse's gun belt and setting it down. Stripping off the coat too so it's just poesy's holster and anchor

Dots: "Breathe, Jesse. This is the most important thing you've ever had to do. You need to calm yourself and follow Poesy outside. Then you'll be yourself again."

DM: He doesn't move for a moment, then he shoves the cell door open, breaking the lock and partially bending a bar. He holds his hand toward Poesy.

Dots: Backing slowly toward Poesy.

Messaging Poesy: {"Okay, it's all up to you now."}

Poesy: Stepping in front of Dots and moving closer to him, palms up, {"You should head out. Stay close, but out of sight if you can..."}

Looking Jesse over, trying to get a read on him (which is already so easy when he's just human...)

"Are you ready? I'll be with you, right beside you."

DM: He is as easy to read as a pet dog. He's afraid, timid, and compliant.

Poesy: Holding out her hands closer, “You're much stronger than you let yourself think you are."

"We can do this, and you'll be just fine."

Stepping back closer to the door and seeing if he's following

DM: He lets you lead.

Poesy: Carefully taking a hand again. Heading back to the top of the tower where we fought the wyverns

"I know you wanted to leave. But I'd really rather you wouldn't,” she smiles at him, coaxing along.

"And your mom, too. John, Jacob, and Sarah. They'll be waiting for you back home. Everything is so good..."

DM: Jesse pats Dots on the head as he passes. It feels like someone setting a sand bag in top of your head.

Dots: Beaming at him.

Poesy: Picking up speed a touch. Not anything rushed, but brisker

DM: Jesse follows without hesitation now. He matches easily.

Poesy: "Gods, you're tall usually, but this is just ridiculous."

DM: He scoops Poesy up and starts taking three steps at a time.

Poesy: Laughing a tearful laugh, "A little warning, darling."

How close until dawn?

DM: It's pretty light now, but in moments you're at the top.

Poesy: If he doesn't immediately head in the direction that the sun will first crest, pointing to it

DM: He's just looking around, but he focuses. Then the sun appears and he freezes.

Poesy: "Let me down, please."

DM: He lets Poesy down absently, transfixed on the rising sun.

Poesy: Standing beside him, not between him and the light, taking a hand

Thinking about the Golden Phoenix and everything it stands for....

Saying a little prayer for the first time ever...

DM: Suddenly he starts to fall over on Poesy, but as he does she suddenly finds herself holding the man, shirtless, fur-less.

Poesy: Letting out a rushed breath and trying to keep him upright. Looking him over... making sure nothing is amiss...

DM: He's exhausted, haggard, but human. He weakly grabs Poesy's cheek and pulls her into a kiss.

Poesy: Openly sobbing. Definitely not letting him move an inch.

Jesse: "I remember . . I remember." He starts sobbing.

Poesy: "Are you okay?" She does everything possible to soothe.

DM: He starts looking himself over. He looks remarkably good, tough there's a hole in his pants.

Poesy: "He shot you..."

Jesse: "I remember..."

Poesy: "What do you remember?"

Dots: Dots slides a flask of water across the floor to them.

DM: He beckons for her to come closer.

Dots: Trotting over. "Hey, friend.."

Jesse: He takes the flask, "Thank you... I remember Brent waking me, punching me, forcing the potion." He gives Dots a hug.

Dots: "Do you remember not eating my arms? Because I really appreciated that!" Returning the hug.

Jesse: "I do, and thank you."

Poesy: "Do you remember the rest?"

He nods.

Dots: "What did he DO to you?" Dots blurts out.

Jesse: "They... we know after, if we remember after the change, that we're in control. I won't hurt anyone."

Dots: "But.. are you a werewolf now?"

Jesse: "He provoked me. By the time I had changed he was gone."

Dots: "Does that mean.. were you always a werewolf, deep down?"

Jesse: He nods.

Dots: "Oh!"

Poesy: "But you'll have to change now?"

Jesse: "I will, but if I do it on my own... hunt on my own..."

Poesy: "But you didn't hurt anyone?"

Jesse: He shakes his head, "I was only after Brent."

Poesy: "He just wanted you to change and be set loose? He didn't try to use you for anything?"

Jesse: "I don't know. I feel like he was leading me around, but I was in a fog."

Poesy: "I don't know what his endgame was... but he was definitely playing one..."

"No matter... will you be alright?"

Jesse: He nods.

DM: Poesy can tell that he wants it to be true, but he's afraid of how close he came to murdering both of you. He sniffs the air.

Jesse: "Mom's here."

Poesy: Taking his hands again and kissing his knuckles, "I wasn't afraid of you. Only that you might be too afraid to stay."

Not letting him go until he really seems to get it, "I trust you."

DM: He wraps his arms around Poesy. It's a good minute before Shannon arrives. He stands to greet her and as he hugs her she looks over his shoulder at Poesy, mouthing: "Thank you."

Poesy: Nodding to her. Sneaking away for a moment, then running down the stairs to grab the things that got left by the cells (Jesse's belt in particular)\And flagging down someone to get Jesse some clothes.

DM: John is waiting just out of sight with your clothes and Jesse's in his arms.

Poesy: Helping him carry things.

"He's okay."

Dots: From upstairs, she messages Poesy: ("Is this just a thing that can happen to humans, and no one told me?"}

Poesy: {"Well fuck, I didn't know myself! What a mess..."}

Dots: {"But his family, at least? Does that mean that your-er, his children will be werewolves too?"}

Poesy: Poesy's downstairs with John, stock still, blushing furiously... There's no response...

John: "Are you okay, Poesy?"

Poesy: "Hm?" She nods, "Mm-hm... Tired... It's been a long night."

Only just really appraising herself, realizing that she's in quite a state. Bloody, bullet-hole-ridden, frilly-ass nightgown and such.

"I should probably see a healer... or sleep..."

John: "It's never easy, even when you're prepared. The worst is over though."

Poesy: "You've seen this?"

John: He nods. "Every werewolf in Edgewood goes through their Dawn. Usually it's around puberty. For those few bitten, their first full moons. Jesse hid his bite for years, suppressed it with potions. He's not the first."

"I didn't even know until he'd graduated high school."

Poesy: "This might've happened even without the meddling?"

John: "Every double moon has been a fight. A struggle. I don't know how or why he didn't want it, but he lost tonight. Lost a battle he's been fighting for more than a decade."

"It could have been much worse though."

"Some lose control. They wake up with no memory of the night. Just blood. Sometimes naked in the woods."

Poesy: "What would have happened? If he'd killed Brent..."

John: "I promised him a long time ago..." he takes his revolver from it's holster and dumps out six silver bullets, "... Thank you."

Poesy: She blanches.

John: He gives Poesy a stiff hug, "Go on, get dressed. I'll get these to Jesse."

#It's long as fuck so I'm gonna give a fuckin star to anyone who actually read it all #but it was such a MOMENT #cw non-consensual drugs #cw violence #triquetra dnd #dungeons and dragons transcript #dnd stories #dnd transcript

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carmenlire · 4 years

Text

Meet Me in the Stacks Ch. 3

read from beginning

read on ao3

As soon as Yoongi hears the overhead announcement that the library is officially closed, he’s shutting down his computer at the reference desk and heading towards the back to grab his things. It’s one of the last Sundays of the season that they’re open and he’s eager to enjoy the end of his weekend before coming back to work for another six straight days.

He passes by Taehyung who’d been assigned to the computer area for today’s shift and winces a little as he sees his coworker helping three different people print while trying to hurry them along as quickly and subtly as possible.

When Yoongi gets to their workroom, Jin and Jimin are already packed up and ready to head out.

“Is Namjoon at the restaurant already?”

Jimin laughs as he types something on his phone. “Of course. He rode his bike there and already put in his name for a table. We should be seated as soon as we get there. Hobi-hyung just drove straight to the restaurant on his way back into town so he'll be there, too.”

Groaning, Yoongi makes sure he has his wallet and keys before shuffling over to the door. “Thank God. I’m hungry and need to vent.”

“Ah, Yoongi-chi, what pissed you off today?”

Grumbling as he opens the door and still sees Taehyung helping the last patron, Yoongi just mutters, “I’ll tell everyone later.”

Jin and Jimin hum in understanding, knowing that they never talk shit about patrons when they’re at work and can be overheard.

The three of them leave through the staff entrance at the back, Jimin making eye contact with Tae to make sure he knows where they’ll be waiting, and Yoongi squints at the bright early evening sunshine.

It’s a little past five o’clock but it’s still warm. Yoongi feels a little like a bat or a particularly grubby mole as his eyes literally burn at the brightness.

Jimin sees his suffering and has the audacity to laugh. “Hyung, you should get out more, enjoy the fresh air. You look like a baby vampire.”

Yoongi snorts. “Fuck off, Jimin,” he retorts absently.

Thankfully, it’s not too much more before Taehyung comes tumbling out of the staff entrance.

“Oh my God,” he whispers, looking like he’d just stared death in the face. “I didn’t think I’d ever make it out of there.”

Everyone laughs in commiseration at their friend’s dramatics. “We were losing hope too,” Jin snickers before patting him on the shoulder. “But you’re free now and Yoongi’s about to start eating his foot so let's get to the restaurant.”

They decide to walk since it’s such a nice day and not for the first time, Yoongi begrudgingly admits that he really does love living in a small town where everything is within walking distance. The library is just a few blocks from Main Street, closer to the school, and Main Street is chock full of small businesses-- everything from a coffee shop to the soap store that he spends way too much at every time he visits to a world-famous toy store that makes their little corner of the world especially hectic during the Holidays.

There are a dozen restaurants, each with their own specialty, and Yoongi is glad that Namjoon had chosen the barbeque place for his week’s pick. The six of them go out every Sunday evening for what they’ve taken to calling family dinners and while he’ll never admit it aloud, Yoongi loves this little tradition of theirs.

It’s a pleasant walk, less than fifteen minutes, and Namjoon’s bike is clearly visible near the front. When everyone walks in, they see Hoseok and Namjoon at their favorite table in the corner. A messy few minutes later as everyone settles, and Yoongi breathes a sigh of relief at sitting down and being off the clock and away from hell, at least for the next fifteen hours.

“So,” Taehyung starts, skimming over a menu he could probably recite at this point. “How was your weekend, Hoseok-hyung?”

Hoseok grins, taking a sip of his coke that he must’ve ordered before everyone else arrived. “It was wonderful, Tae-ah. I’m glad I put in for this weekend off. Going back home was fun, especially since the weather was so nice, and my mom sent me back with enough food to feed an army.”

“Well, we know where to stop by for dinner this week, don’t we,” Jimin asks and Hoseok groans good-naturedly.

“I’m glad you had a good time, even if you left the rest of us to suffer in your stead,” Taehyung says solemnly and Namjoon snorts.

“What happened this afternoon, Tae? I know Yoongi texted me last night about how awful things were at closing yesterday but you look, no offense, a little wrung out.”

Yoongi interjects before Taehyung can reply. “You act like you don’t remember how Saturdays used to be. If we’re not dead then it’s Bedlam. Just because you’re management now doesn’t mean you should be so impervious to the plights of your staff. After all, if it weren’t for us common librarians--”

Everyone, including Namjoon, groans at the familiar spiel. “Stop bullshitting, hyung. Did I not cover the desk all week with you last month when Jin took off and we were short staffed in the evenings? And did I not have to calm down Cerano when he almost went nuclear at the prospect of, God forbid, having to pay for his 132 single-sided color prints?”

Grumbling, Yoongi just rolls his eyes. “At least you didn’t get hit on by a woman looking old enough to be your grandmother yesterday. And I couldn’t very well offend her delicate sensibilities and tell her I was gay as fuck, so I just had to smile as she had the audacity to pinch my cheeks and call me a goddamn dumpling. When I tell you that I’m entitled to financial compensation--”

“The union pays a fair wage, you know,” Jimin breaks in mildly and Yoongi just glares at the flagrant disrespect.

Before things can get any more out of hand, though, Namjoon calms everyone down. “Well, it’s good to know that the building’s still standing and that my department is making me proud even when I’m not there.”

Everyone scoffs and as the topic turns to talking about potential plans for the group to go on a weekend trip together over the summer, Yoongi reflects that he’s really quite glad he took this job in a small town a few years ago.

Yoongi hadn’t always known what he wanted to do. He’d majored in history in college-- minoring in a few other areas that caught his interest-- but knew he didn’t have the patience to pursue his Ph.D. and become a professor. He’d always had fond memories of his own library back home, though, of reading any book he could get his hands on, of his mom taking him every week when he was still young enough to participate in children’s programs.

As graduation had started looming, Yoongi had applied for an internship at a research library and had fallen in love. He loved learning and helping others find what they wanted made him feel good, like he was making a difference, even if it was such a small one. As soon as his last semester had began and his internship had wrapped up for the summer, he’d started applying for Masters programs in Library Science and had learned very quickly that there is a lot that goes into making libraries run smoothly and stay relevant to the masses.

He’d been roommates with Seokjin and Namjoon during college and while he’d wandered from library to library for a few years, trying different types of institutions to see what fit and what didn't, his old roommates had started as entry level librarians in a small town a couple of hours away from university.

The three of them had stayed in touch and Yoongi had treated them to a celebratory dinner whenever Namjoon was promoted to first assistant manager and then manager of the adult services department. Seokjin, for his part, was content enough in his role, tending to his collections and away from the pressure of dealing with the director directly and having to make all those big grand strategic plans for their department and library at large.

Namjoon thrived in his new role and when he’d reached out to Yoongi, let him know that someone was retiring and they’d have a spot open, Yoongi hadn’t hesitated to apply.

His best friend hadn’t been part of the interview committee and all around, that made things easier. He’d been offered the job the next day, started within a month, and had quickly found himself surrounded by idiots.

He loved it.

Yoongi’s been at the library for a few years now and while the whole department is full of dumbasses, they have the highest circulation of any neighboring library and Namjoon keeps them all in line with firm but fluid leadership.

Moving to a new town is always nerve wracking but Yoongi likes to think that he’s settled into things. He had Namjoon and Seokjin but his other coworkers in the department became fast friends, welcoming him with open arms. Of course, he’d heard stories about Hobi and Jimin and Taehyung-- but they had heard stories too and they had seemed to be friends almost before he even started his new position.

All in all, things were good. Yoongi didn’t absolutely hate his job, he had good friends, and he lived in a quiet neighbourhood with a bustling town life that he rarely participated in but knew he could if he did.

Yoongi’s thoughts break off as he hears Jimin’s peel of laughter. Tuning back into the conversation, he hears Hoseok exclaim, “You should see the way Yoongi turns red whenever he comes up to the desk. I thought his ears were gonna catch fire the last time he helped him.”

Glaring, Yoongi demands, “What the hell are you cretins talking about now?”

It’s Namjoon who laughs. “Everyone was filling me in on your admirer. I can’t believe you’ve had to tell him where the computers are six times and you haven’t lost your patience yet. It must be love,” he teases with a grin and Yoongi plots murder.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Joon-ah,” he says stiffly and resolutely ignores the fact that it’s getting a little warm in the restaurant.

Thankfully, everyone simmers down as the waitress comes by with drinks-- Hoseok and Namjoon ordered for everyone while they were waiting-- and it’s time to order food.

That only eats up so much time though and soon enough, Yoongi’s back in the hot seat and cursing his existence for moving here and landing himself with a bunch of idiots.

“So hyung,” Taehyung starts with a wide smile. “Have you gotten Jungkook’s number yet?”

Yoongi just narrows his eyes. “How do you know his name?”

Taehyung waves the question away. “Oh, we’re getting to be friends,” he answers airily.

Jimin giggles and it’s a little concerning how devious it sounds. “Sometimes he comes in and you’re not there so we got to talking one day when Taehyungie and I were at the desk together. He really is cute, isn’t he?”

Feeling like he’s chewing glass, Yoongi grits out, “I guess if you’re into that kind of thing.”

“And are you into that,” Hoseok asks with an infuriating smirk. “You know, tall and toned and with those tattoos--”

“The way his hair falls into his eyes,” Jin adds dreamily. “The way he dresses like he wants to tell you to fuck off but then he speaks and he’s the cutest, most polite thing you ever saw--”

Yoongi tries to keep from smiling but sees from the way Namjoon’s eyes sharpen as he watches him and knows he’s not being as subtle as he’d like. Knowing that he has to say something, all Yoongi can manage is, “So maybe I think he’s attractive. That doesn’t mean anything’s going to happen.”

“And why not,” Jimin asks, genuinely curious. “You like him, he likes you--”

“How on earth can you know that,” Yoongi cuts in flatly. “He’s never done anything to show he’s interested in me as more than the librarian who knows where the copier is.”

He’s stunned when the entire table groans in unison.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Hoseok asks, looking a little put-out. “As if Jungkook doesn’t make a beeline towards you whenever he comes to the library.”

“Like he doesn’t know exactly where everything is by now and like he isn’t a reasonably well-adjusted adult who could figure things out by himself but still asks you for help just so he can bask in your grumpy little gremlin presence for a few minutes--”

“Wait what,” Yoongi breaks in, shocked. “What do you mean he knows where everything is? Every time he comes in, he needs directions.”

“Yeah, from you,” Seokjin says pointedly.

“If he doesn’t see you at the reference desk, he doesn’t even look at us,” Taehyung adds. “At least before I introduced myself and pulled him into a conversation. The most we ever got from him was a wave and a little smile.”

From his periphery, Yoongi sees Namjoon open his mouth and he closes his eyes in defeat, knows that his friend is about to put the final nail in the coffin that has been Yoongi’s frankly impressive ability to downplay his feelings and any hope that they might be reciprocated.

He’s right.

Namjoon looks sheepish as he adds his two cents. “If this is who I think we’re talking about, I’ve seen him around.”

Looking intrigued, Hoseok prompts, “Do tell.”

With a wary glance in Yoongi’s direction, like Namjoon is afraid he’ll just lunge across the table to shut him up, Namjoon explains, “I was walking back from a managers meeting and saw someone in the New Nonfiction section? He was a little distracted looking at the cover of a book and someone bumped into him. He was admittedly pretty hot so I wasn’t running back to my office like I usually am--”

Jin snorts but Namjoon merely plods on, neck a little warm, “Anyway, I heard the patron who bumped into him ask if he knew where the scanner was and Jungkook told them. I was ready to step in but he had it handled. A few minutes later after I talked to Jimin-ah at the computer desk, I looked up and he was actually helping the old woman scan her papers.”

Nodding along like it confirms everything they’ve been saying, Hoseok looks smug. “He’s not only a gentlemen but he knows how to use technology.”

Jin stabs into his starter salad that's just been placed in front of him before pointing his fork with a cherry tomato hanging off the end at Yoongi. “Snap him up before someone else does, Yoongi-chi.”

Taeyhung laughs. “Yeah, you know Jimin and I are always looking--”

“Shut up,” Yoongi pleads quietly as he brings a hand up to his temple. “What the fuck,” he mutters to himself, wondering what Jungkook’s aim is here.

“Isn’t it obvious, hyung,” Namjoon asks, making Yoongi realize he must’ve spoken aloud. “He’s trying to woo you.”

With an unattractive snort, Jin tacks on, “I know it might be hard to believe, but some people think you’re cute.”

Yoongi blinks but Jin doesn’t let him say anything before his tone turns philosophically wry and he’s continuing, “Some people really like the grump look. Admittedly, I didn’t think odds were on that you’d find someone at work when all you do is glare at your computer screen mutinously and whisper under your breath about running away to a fishing village in Florida but here we are and Jungkook seems like a nice enough guy, albeit one who makes me worry about his taste in men, if he likes them so prickly--”

“Oh but hyung,” Taehyung breaks in mischievously, “Have you really seen Yoongi with Jungkook? He turns into a little kitten, I swear--”

“Yah, I’m still your hyung, you brat,” Yoongi interrupts darkly. “Would it kill you to show a little respect?”

“But he’s right, Yoongi.” Jimin would almost look apologetic if it wasn’t for the devilish gleam in his eye. “I’ve seen you stutter when Jungkook asks you a question and as soon as you see him, your whole face lights up. Granted, I don’t think most people would be able to notice but your dourness is only, like at a one out of ten instead of off the charts. He even makes you smile when he’s being adorably awkward, too.”

“Too,” Yoongi repeats, squinting a little.

Taehyung nods solemnly. “You’re a mess around him, Yoongi-hyung.”

“A match made in heaven then,” Hoseok crows and the rest of the table laughs.

Yoongi’s just trying to stop his thoughts from spinning out of control at the fount of information that just dumped all over him. Deciding he needs a quick break to get himself under control, he moves his chair back, merely offering, "I need to go to the restroom," when Jimin looks at him in question.

The group waves him on, having a merry time, and Yoongi rolls his eyes even as he huffs out a fond laugh at their antics, even if they're at his expense.

They come to this restaurant at least once a month-- they all love barbecue a little too much-- and Yoongi's sliding around tables and heading towards the restrooms near the front of the building. He spends a few minutes at the sink, and when he looks at himself in the mirror, he winces seeing that his face definitely didn't hide his reactions to all the ribbing about Jungkook.

He collects himself and feels better as he washes his hands and goes to head back to the table. Swinging open the door, he's passing the hostess stand when he hears someone call out his name. "Yoongi?"

Looking over, Yoongi freezes when he meets Jungkook's eyes. Out of everyone in town, Yoongi despairs, he just just had to run into his crush when he'd just gotten himself back under control. He only hopes that none of his friends are looking over or he'll never hear the end of it.

"Hi, Jungkook," He greets warmly. Not seeing anyone obviously with him, Yoongi asks, "Are you eating alone?"

He's all set to ask Jungkook if he'd like to join him and his friends-- and he knows, he knows, that his friends will have way too much to say if he brings him back to his table but there's a little voice in his head that points out that Jungkook seems pretty new in town and if he's eating out at a restaurant alone, he might like some company and apparently, Jungkook is already friends or at least friendly with the devil twins and it might not even be so bad to eat with Jungkook, to see how he acts with the most important people in Yoongi's life, that he'd love to spend more time with him outside of the library-- but all of his rambling internal wishes are for naught when Jungkook just smiles sheepishly and nods towards where the hostess is walking towards them with a bag.

"I'm just picking up takeout, don't worry."

Yoongi nods, thinking of what he can say to add to the conversation before the silence grows too long and awkward between them. "This is one of the best restaurants in town. Even their takeout is amazing."

Jungkook grins and reaches out for the bag the hostess holds, murmuring his thanks before he turns fully to Yoongi. "I might have a serious weakness for their lamb skewers. I come here like, twice a week at least," he admits with a little laugh and Yoongi doesn't know why, but he's endeared.

"That's what I usually get," Yoongi says and watches Jungkook's eyes light up.

"Really, Yoongi-ssi?" Yoongi nods, feels his face get warmer which is infuriating since he had just cooled down but Jungkook suddenly looks a little nervous as he bites his lip. Finally, looking at Yoongi a little shyly, Jungkook says, "Maybe one of these days we could get lamb skewers together?"

Before Yoongi even has a chance to respond, Jungkook's eyes are widening and he's almost backtracking. "I know that we don't really talk outside of the library and that even when we do, you're always helping me but I thought it might be nice to talk-- outside of your work, sometime. If you wanted to, of course! I don't mean to put you on the spot and I know it must be awkward to have to tell someone who sees you at your work no but please feel free to if you don't want to--"

"Jungkook-ah," Yoongi finally breaks in just for Jungkook to obviously cut himself off and take a deep breath. "I'd like that."

"Yeah," Jungkook asks, hopeful, eyes wide and the hint of a smile curling on his mouth.

Yoongi had mostly talked before he'd let himself think but it's not like this isn't what his friends were just hinting at. He's still loathe to get his hopes up but if this is Jungkook making a move or trying to be friends, then Yoongi definitely doesn't want to discourage that. And while he knows he's a flustered mess, he'd really like to hang out with Jungkook more, especially outside of work. "Yeah," he confirms with a smile of his own, tentative and small, just to watch Jungkook grin.

It's almost blinding. Yoongi loves it.

"Great," Jungkook says. "We'll definitely do that then."

Yoongi can't think of anything to say besides repeating Jungkook again. "Great," he says, abashed and drops his eyes to stare at Jungkook's combat boots.

Looking down, he doesn't see the way Jungkook's gaze softens, turns into something gentler and unforgivably enamored.

It's silent between them for a moment and Yoongi's used up all of his brainpower to get this far so it's a little startling when Jungkook suddenly shifts and lifts his bag a little, apologetic. "It was really great running into you, Yoongi-ssi but I should probably get going before my food gets cold. I'll see you soon?"

Nodding along to whatever Jungkook was saying, Yoongi blinks a little before offering, "Hyung."

Jungkook tilts his head a little, confused, and Yoongi takes a breath. "You can call me hyung. If you want."

This time it's Jungkook's turn to look away, flustered and happy, but he's meeting Yoongi's eyes again a split second later. "Okay, then. Hyung. I'll see you later?"

"Okay, Jungkook-ah. I'll see you later. It was nice running into you like this."

Jungkook waves with his free hand, smile bright as he steps toward the door. "Bye, hyung!"

Yoongi watches him stride past the big window and sighs a little to himself. He doesn't really know what the last five minutes were but he's happy and a little nervous but definitely feeling good.

Knowing that his friends will probably start looking for him soon, he take a deep breath, wills the blush he just knows is high on his cheeks to fade, and walks back to their table.

Everyone smiles at his return and he takes his seat quietly, listening to Hoseok update everyone on how his parents are and what he did this weekend back in his hometown. He's not really paying attention to the conversation though, too wrapped up in what just happened with Jungkook and if it means what he really wants it to mean and how it might connect to what his friends had been telling him before he'd left the table.

There's a pause in the conversation as the waitress brings their meals out and Yoongi debates with himself on bringing Jungkook back up but he wants to be sure, can’t quite stop the hope from sparking but before it starts raging out of control. He just needs one last bit of reassurance.

Taking a deep breath, his quiet voice breaks through the pandemonium that’s his friends making fun of him.

“So he really doesn’t need help,” he asks, out of nowhere, trying to pretend the answer isn’t important to him, like he’s not hinging on his friends’ next words. “He only singles me out?”

Jin’s eyes soften as he looks at him and Yoongi feels both put on the spot but comforted as one of his oldest friends just nods softly. “I’m telling you, Yoongi-yah, Jungkook is at least interested in you.”

“Definitely,” Jimin confirms nodding earnestly. “Did you know that he’s had his office printer set-up for weeks now but still comes to the library to work sometimes? But hyung, if he doesn’t see you then he just wanders in the books for a little while before grabbing one and checking out. He really is just coming to the library for you.”

“Maybe you should give him a chance, hyung,” Taehyung encourages and Yoongi smiles despite himself.

His friends really do mean well even if they’re a pain in his ass most of the time.

“I don’t know,” he says, unsure and not bothering to hide it. “What if I do something, or let myself think something means something, and it turns out he’s just a nice guy who’s polite and I read way too much into things?”

It looks like Hoseok is praying for patience but his voice is soft and nothing but supportive and understanding as he replies, “Then you still put yourself out there and that’s something to be proud of. Plus, you’re both so awkward and nice that it wouldn’t ruin anything. You could at least be friends.”

“As your manager,” Namjoon breaks in and Yoongi stiffens a little wondering if this is going to be one of the times when his friend has to be the bad guy. “I don’t see anything wrong with talking to him outside of the library or even asking him on a date. You’re never presumptuous or pushy, hyung. If he even hinted that he wasn’t into you like that, you’d back up and remain professional. I don’t see any issue with you crushing on a patron.”

The rest of the table cheers now that they have their boss’ approval and Yoongi pretends like he doesn’t feel the same relief.

“Whatever,” he finally says when the expectant looks of his friends starts to be a bit much and he feels like he has to speak. “We’ll see what happens but I’m not in any rush to make a fool of myself.”

“Ah hyung,” Jimin says, wrapping an arm around Yoongi’s shoulders, “You’ll be fine. It’s not like Jungkook doesn’t look ready to bookmark your ass as soon as you give the okay.”

Yoongi chokes, reaching for his water, and all of his friends laugh at his flustered face, rapidly turning red. He hates them, he really does.

But then Seokjin pats his shoulder and deftly turns the topic back to work and how he’d almost gotten into a fight with a group of teenagers who’d called him an ancient hag when he’d merely told them to lower their voices a little, and Namjoon looks like he’s seeing his department demerits flash in front of his eyes and everyone’s laughing as the heat is taken off of Yoongi and he decides that this isn’t so bad, after all.

He doesn’t know if anything will come from his conversation with Jungkook tonight, so he decides not to say anything, doesn’t want to give anyone any more fodder against him-- really doesn’t want his friends to get so excited that it makes him hope, too. He’ll see what happens and maybe he won’t try so hard to hide his feelings.

Ignoring a voice that sounds suspiciously like Jimin telling him that he’s already shit at hiding his feelings, Yoongi forgets about crushes and guys who can be both hot and adorable at the same time and enjoys the rest of his family dinner with his friends, thinking about how his life is made up of small moments like these that all string together to make a pretty good existence, all in all.

#my writing #meet me in the stacks #mmits #idk if i've actually posted this on here yet but here we go #better late than never i guess lol #yoonkook fic #yoonkook au

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