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smilingformoney · 4 months

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Rickmas 2023: Day 19. Hope | Severus/Persephone

Read now on Ao3 or below the cut:

December 1978

The work for the Dark Lord didn’t stop for any holiday, not even Christmas.

Severus preferred it that way. He found no joy in Christmas anymore. He hadn’t for years, not since his mother - his only real family - had died. So when other Death Eaters were reluctant to carry out orders over Christmas for the sake of family time, Severus stepped up and volunteered to fill in for them, spending as much time as he could carrying out the Dark Lord’s orders.

Including, of course, his one main order: getting information from Persephone Payne. So when Christmas Day approached, he invited her over for Christmas Dinner, knowing as he did that she didn’t have family to go to. Whether they were estranged or dead, she’d never let slip, but Severus knew enough to know she’d be alone for Christmas.

The dinner mostly cooked itself, leaving Severus and Persephone time to sit on the sofa and drink their way through the bottle of mulled wine she’d brought over.

“So, your first post-Hogwarts Christmas. How have you been spending it?” she asked.

“I’ve hardly had time to think about it, I’ve been so busy with tasks for the Dark Lord. A lot of the others are spending time with family so I’ve been covering for them.”

“Is he okay with that? Surely he’d expect them to put him first?”

“He certainly wasn’t happy about it, but he knows raising the next generation of wizards is important, so nobody got crucioed. Especially when I said I’d pick up their slack. He seemed pleased that I was willing to put the cause first. Not that I’ve… got anything else to do at Christmas. I’m all alone here.”

Persephone snorted. “He’d get on well with my boss. Always gives me the Christmas assignments because he knows I’m the only one without a family. I’m glad you invited me over when you did, by the way - the next day he asked me to work today and I had an excuse to say no.”

“Glad I could help,” Severus laughed. “Sounds like your boss is worse than mine. At least he let me do what I want today.”

“And you chose to spend time with me?”

“Yes, of course! I remembered you said you don’t have family, so I thought we could be alone together.”

“Ha. Well, here’s to being alone together.” Persephone raised her glass and drank. “I have to admit, I miss Christmas at Hogwarts. Nothing beats the elves’ cooking. And I usually got the common room to myself - at least until you started staying behind too,” she said with a friendly nudge. “Shame we weren’t friends then.”

“I tried to talk to you,” Severus admitted, fidgeting slightly with the glass in his hand. “But I never had the courage.”

“Was that why you never thanked me for the hot chocolate?”

“…What?”

“The first Christmas you stayed back, I left you a hot chocolate and a note. You never said thanks, so I figured maybe you didn’t get it or you didn’t like it —“

“That was you?!” Severus frowned. “I thought - well, I don’t know what I thought. I didn’t recognise the handwriting. And… nobody knew about my mother. Only Slughorn and Lily.”

Persephone winced awkwardly. “I… may have overheard you telling Lily. And by overheard I mean eavesdropped.”

“But the hot chocolate — how did you know about the hot chocolate?”

“What do you mean? I just thought you’d like it.”

“With cinnamon? From the stall in Diagon Alley?”

“Well, yeah, that’s the best hot chocolate you can get.”

Severus sank back into the cushion, his mind spinning. The mystery of the hot chocolate that appeared on his bedside table that Christmas had always plagued him. Who had put it there, and how had they known about both his mother’s death and the significance of the hot chocolate? And all along it had been Persephone who left it, having overheard him telling Lily — and the hot chocolate was just a coincidence?

“My mother and I used to have that hot chocolate every year,” Severus admitted. “It was something of a tradition for us. Then she died and that very same hot chocolate appeared. I thought - but it was just you being… nice?”

“I know, me being nice is rare.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, you’re always nice.”

“To you. I like you. Don’t like anyone else.”

“…Did anyone ever tell you that leaving hot drinks and mysterious notes next to a person’s bed is not the most efficient way of making friends?”

Persephone laughed, almost choking on her wine, and Severus smiled.

“So that’s why I don’t have any friends! What should I be doing instead? Leaving cold drinks?”

“Well, signing the note would be a good start. I’d have thanked you if I’d known it was you.”

“I was the only other Slytherin there, I thought it would be obvious it was me! Damn, we really did just keep missing each other at school, didn’t we? Lucky that we were both in the Leaky Cauldron last July, huh?”

“Yes, very lucky,” Severus lied. Luck had nothing to do with it. I was looking for you.

“You know, Severus, I… I haven’t enjoyed Christmas in a long time. But this… this is nice. Gives me hope, y’know? That people like you and me can still have merry Christmases.”

“People like us?”

“You know… people without families. I only ever feel lonely at Christmas.”

“…So do I,” Severus admitted. He’d been staring into the bottom of his now empty glass, but now he looked up at her, and she smiled a cautiously warm smile, one which set his heart aflutter.

“Can we do Christmas next year too?” he asked. “At yours, perhaps.”

“Yes! Yes, I’d like that. Even if we get married and end up with our own children, we should still see each other every Christmas. Make sure neither of us is lonely.”

“Deal.”

***

December 2000

“Here they come…”

“Oh, no…”

The bedroom door swung open at exactly 5am, and Severus hid under the duvet.

“Dada’s not here,” he said firmly.

“Christmas! Christmas! Christmas!” Ariadne squealed excitedly as she and her twin sister jumped onto their parents’ bed.

“Christmas is cancelled. Dada’s going back to sleep.”

“No, Dada, wake up! Father Christmas put a million presents under the tree!”

“Get your sister up first. Jump on her while she’s asleep. That’s an order from Dada.”

Laughing rather maniacally for a two-year-old, Ariadne raced out of the room, followed by April, and through two walls Severus heard the girls screaming excitedly as they burst into their older sister’s room.

“Those two need to calm down. It’s only Christmas.”

“It’s their first proper Christmas, Sev! And it’s their birthday too, they’re excited. They were too young to understand it last year.”

Persephone rolled over, stretching, as if she’d just woken up serenely and the screaming, bouncing two-year-olds hadn’t bothered her. Then again, she was married to him, so surely nothing could faze her.

“No Grinch this year, you promised.”

Severus sighed. “I suppose. Besides, it’s hard not to enjoy Christmas when I have you.” He wrapped an arm around her, holding her in close, savouring the peace and her warmth until he had to get out of bed and face the chaos of the day.

“Christmases are going to be a lot more chaotic now with those two around.”

“Mmm… I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“I’ll tell them you said that.”

“You will not.”

“Better get downstairs before me, then.”

“What - Sephy!”

But she was already up, waving her wand to dress herself; Severus jumped out of bed too, scrambling for his own wand, knowing he was doomed. But even so - being doomed to a happy life with the family he loved wasn’t so bad after all. If only his younger self had known where he’d end up, happy and safe and loved - it may well have given him hope.

#rickmas2023 #severus snape #pro snape #alan rickman #snephy

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obeymeluv · 4 years

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Signs they Love You

Back for my 1 post a week to prove school hasn’t totally killed me! When I get a semester break, I’ll post more often. In the mean time, feel free to leave me chats or PMs for stuff you want to see! :) Something nice and sappy for an okay Saturday

These turned out really long so I only did Lucifer, Mammon, Levi, and Satan. I have to get back to studying :/. Maybe I’ll have part 2 next week?

Lucifer

You wouldn’t be able to notice it because his pride wouldn’t allow you to. One of the brothers (or, to Lucifer’s extreme mortification, Lord Diavolo) would have to tell you

He’s not sure if it’s just the appreciation of you not being as totally chaotic as his brothers or genuine human naivete that has somehow worn off on him, but he loves you

Will be outed by sappy, soft stares that last 2 seconds too long.

Asmo and Satan are the first to notice and he LOATHES that

If he’s tasked with waking you up that morning, his knock will be firm but his voice will be gentle. Almost persuasive or commiserating

If you’re feeling overwhelmed by school workload, he may have a private conference with the teacher and grant you a minor extension. Will you know it was him? No. Is he happy to see you brighten up and refill with hope just a bit? Definitely. Is it worth the teasing from Lord Diavolo? ...Sure.

If he responds to texts in the wee hours of the morning when he’s still pouring over paperwork, he likes you.

Anyone who knows him can see how his eyes soften when someone else talks about you. There’s a fond slowness to his actions, how he glides his hand imperceptibly over his chest as if to feel where that emotion is coming from. Boy is whipped.

Should Lord Diavolo invite him out for a meeting, he will bring you back something small. Something he thought you’d like. Beel is upset. Levi yells “SIMP!” from the second floor and prepares for Armageddon.

Actually reminds you about assignments if you’re not already up on it yourself. Your success is his joy.

Is very keen on if/when you burn the candle too long and has a sixth sense for bad sleeping habits. Will put you on a stricter schedule for your own health

It may take almost all of the brothers to do it (or just help from Diavolo) but if he gets drunk on Demonus you’re getting a whole BOOK about why he likes you. He almost charms your memory away but everyone practically dog-piles on him not to because he needs to deal with his feelings.

You’re the only one he won’t chase out of his study when he’s doing paperwork. He’ll even set up a little fire if you like the fireplace.

How he confesses: tries to take you on a fancy date to Ristorante Six. Does not know that Lord Diavolo and Barbatos know about this (damn time-travelling butler!) and basically crash the date just to encourage him. Just long enough to encourage him.

Kind of an, “So you chose this idea, Lucifer? Admirable! I’m sure your date will be amazing! Enjoy your evening!” as Diavolo walks back to his table.

Does Lucifer deny it? Look and see how red his face is. If you’re really not sure, ask Diavolo. He will gladly yell, “I cannot lie!” across the restaurant.

Mammon

For all his talk, when he really, really decides he likes you, he doesn’t know what to say.

He can console himself with how obvious it is and how you made the best choice, but he has to show it! What to do?

Mammon’s kind of confused about it because he doesn’t really change how he behaves. You didn’t catch on already?! C’mon, human!

What, does he have to spell it out for you? Do an interview with Majolish?

His first tactic is to just be around you. Be subtle, and maybe cuddle a bit more than usual. Things to show he’s kittenish and at your mercy. Comfortable with you.

You don’t seem to be getting the hint so he throws the net a little wider by trying to find things you like or that you’ve been talking about. They mysteriously show up at your door.

It sends the others on a gossip train about who your admire could be and when they list off everyone BUT him, he wants to slam his head on the table.

Feeling tired? Coffee! Backpack heavy? Silly human, the BEST man can help you with that, OBVIOUSLY! Mammon jumps at the chance to do any little thing for you because he cares. His actions always speak louder than words.

Feeling kind of defeated and embarrassed, Mammon will go talk to the flock of crows that meander around the House of Lamentation’s yard when he really needs them.

For the next few days you’re accosted in the nicest way, birds chirping at you and dropping off various shiny things

You collect them, finally showing them to Mammon and he’s embarrassed that his representative animal has taken to courting you on his behalf.

He calls them to him, embarrassed and ready to rant or fall into the ground never to be seen again, when they start talking. Repeating all the things he’s practiced saying.

“Hey baby,”, “Hey human,” “Love you!”, “Silly! Silly!”, “Dummy, no, dummy!”, “My human.”

It’s broken and confusing, six or seven bird children cawing in your face and bobbing, but you get it.

Levi

Levi’s not the best at expressing himself but it counts, right? As much as he hates to admit he’s some kind of shy tsundere, you know what that is, right? He doesn’t have to say it?

Yes. Yes he does. His brothers are getting too chummy with you and you don’t understand his signals. Time for Plan B.

If you get invited to stand in line for a midnight release, he hopes you take it. Then it’s just you two hanging out in line? What’s this? He brought snacks? Totally not for the two of you BUT you an have some if you’re hungry. It’s whatever

When he’s not doing boss raids and playing with online friends, he’ll ask if you want to play something with him. A Player 1 needs a Player 2, you know?

I headcanon that Levi knows how to play some unusual instruments like the kalimba or a real ocarina. I could see him making you a song on one of those. Or just playing it because you inspire him. He’s very good with a harp and will play it when he’s in the mood.

Boy also likes to draw and paint. Especially loves watercolors. Would it be weird if he gave you a painting of you as a mermaid? Just you and the ocean. Beautiful.

Was there a really cute plush or knickknack you liked? Levi has his ways, regardless of how rare or limited edition it is. It will be yours.

He has a hard time understanding a passing comment of interest versus a genuine want because he genuinely wants everything he’s interested in, so if you hear a whisper about him almost securing something, stop and look it up. Make sure it’s not super expensive!!

Probably outed by Belphegor, who feels like Levi’s broadcasting all of his stress, frustration, and hope through his dreams. (”His dreams are weird. Just different ways of asking them out, and if he messes up it restarts like a simulation. My brain hurts.” he says to Beel)

You’re allowed to come into his super-restricted bedroom haven when everything’s too much. It’s very exclusive since the Mammon incident. Be happy.

Might go swimming in his big tank and pick a seashell or rock to make a necklace out of. He hopes you like it.

If he’s not outed by Belphie, some of his online friends made a game demo they wanted him to try. They specified it was two player so he asked you to join in. While he’s in the middle of bragging about how he knows people, knows developers, he totally misses the dating-sim like dialogue and the big reveal.

Doesn’t really kick in until he realize the characters look like you two. You’re busy saying ‘Yes’ to “Do you like me?” as Levi absolutely threatens to rip them apart six ways to Sunday. Almost in full demon mode, too.

Everything falls out of his brain and quiets in his throat when he realizes the characters are kissing and ‘THEY SAID YES!’ flashes on the screen.

“Y-You like me?”

“Yep.”

It was that easy all along. Levi thinks he’s going to faint.

Satan

Becomes aware of it pretty quick but ignores it for a looong time

Is it rude or foolish of him to assume you would also like him back?

Run away into books. A solid plan. If you don’t think about it, it’s not an issue

Oh, but it is an issue when you fall asleep after a mutual day of reading, forced in by bad weather. He finds his heart fluttering in a painful squeeze as he quietly whispers all the things he dare not say when you’re awake

It’s nervous poetry, and it’s beautiful

Satan tries to get himself back on track, to focus on reading, and he gets frustrated when he’s stuck on the same page almost an hour later

When you’re on the brain he just can’t do anything else

How does one show their affection? He’s swimming in books for a new reason now, as voracious as ever

He brews you a pot of Melancholy Coffee and is a bit disappointed you don’t know the meaning behind the bitterness. Wants to break the pot when Lucifer jokes about how it tastes exceptionally bitter to him as well.

Okay, so coffee didn’t work. What else do people do when they show their affections?

Asmo suggests a ‘not a date’ date and Satan sighs inside. Sounds like a lot of work and effort. It’s not that you’re not worth it, but he has a feeling that everyone will know and look at him the whole time.

Tries anyways. You guys go to a beautiful nature conservatory and take a tour of the plants and some indigenous animals

You’re starting to realize it now, he can tell. Satan tries to answer your question without saying it while you’re at school. You walk together, he offers to carry some of your books, and always requests that he be your project partner

Nearly there. If there was a single defining moment for him, he’d want it to be classic. He shows up at your door with a rose and asks you to go on a moonlit walk.

Mammon’s poking fun about how cheesy and cliche it is, Asmo’s gearing up to shut Mammon’s stupid mouth, and Satan just whisks you out the door with an aggravated sigh.

No matter what side of the house you’re on, Asmo throws up the biggest, gaudiest handmade sign that’s like ‘CUTEST COUPLE! 10/10!’

#Obey me!#Obey me x reader #Lucifer x Reader #Mammon x Reader #Levi x Reader #Leviathan x Reader #Satan x Reader

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doorbloggr · 3 years

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Sunday 25/9/21 - Media Recommendations #19

Contents:

Twilight Princess (Manga)

Dr Stone (manga/anime)

Lately, I have had a lot I want to write about on this blog, but lack that activation energy to actually start writing an article. Ideally I will at least word vomit more onto the blog in the coming week or so, because I have the topics in mind, just unsure how to start any of it.

Media Consumption has also slowed to a crawl, but I'm getting back into it. This week I wanna discuss a manga series I've been reading slowly as it has released, and an anime I have long been reading the manga for.

The Legend of Zelda Twilight Princess (Manga)

Akira Himekawa

Zelda fans have a unique schism between their fans that many other longer running series may not experience. Because most games star a relatively unique cast of characters, a unique spin on the world, gameplay, and even artistic style, what your favourite in the series is will throw you into a hard debate against fans of other games. There's this post i saw somewhere(?) once where it was said your favourite Zelda game is the one that came out when you were 12, presumably because this is the one you experience first, or at least earlier in your Zelda journey, and I can completely relate to that.

The Legend of Zelda Twilight Princess was the first Zelda game I played, and it has been my number 1 or 2 in the series consistently. Compared to the games that came before it, it was darker, had a richer world, and just a grander scope. But today I'm not here to explain the game, I'm here to talk about the manga.

Akira Himekawa is a pseudonym for a pair of female manga artists that have been writing manga together since the early 90s, and I know them well for their Legend of Zelda adaptations. They have covered most of the main games everyone knows, Ocarina of Time, Majoras Mask, A Link to the Past, and even a couple volumes of Four Swords Adventures. Their most recent work has also been the most long and in depth adaptation, my first Zelda game, Twilight Princess.

Like all of their Zelda adaptations, Akira Himekawa's Twilight Princess follows all the same plot beats as the main games. The order places are visited, the main characters Link encounters, the dungeons and their bosses, but the mangaka add... more to the world. Link has a deeper back story explaining what led to the start of the adventure. What in the games are essentially blank slate NPCs become characters in their own rights with personalities and arcs and motivations. The Twilight Realm, which is essentially just a dungeon in the game, is fleshed out as its entire world, with society, and lore.

In the game, Link is cool, and a bit of a himbo, but the manga's take on him is so much more interesting. He's a brooding edge lord, with a damaged past. He's a do-gooder, but he's also flawed and suffers from caring too much. Link is a character full of regrets who constantly bounces between "become a hero to prevent the atrocities of the past coming back" and "give up so that you don't make things worse". I understand that the games leave Link as a blank slate so that players can fill in their own ideals, but seeing Link as a fully fleshed character with his own motivations is cool as hell.

The supporting cast is similarly fleshed out compared to the game's take. Zelda, Illia, and Midna have complex motivations and evolving personalities. Midna was already a great character, but the manga truly does not skip out on making her deep and interesting. The "Resistance", for those who've played the game, are all multilayered characters now, all with arcs that are actively explored as they actually go help Link on his adventures, instead of just telling him info and leaving him to it. The dungeons do not take nearly as much plot time as they do in the games, essentially minimal theme building and then boss, but this works better for the format in my opinion.

If you like high fantasy manga, or are just a Zelda fan, I highly recommend this series. I haven't finished reading it, but Book 9, which I think is the final in the series, has recently been released in English. Obviously playing the game first is a good background, but I think you could 100% enjoy the series without it.

Edit: Finished book 9 and there's definitely at least one more book to go.

Dr Stone (anime/manga)

Inagaki, Boichi; TMS Entertainment

Ok so must I remember wrong because I thought I recommended this one, but apparently I never talked about Dr Stone before, which is a complete travesty. But now I am both up to date with the manga and most of a season deep into the anime, and I have A LOT to talk about.

As those who have also read my dinosaur blogposts will understand, I am a big science nerd. Biology, palaeontology, space, chemistry, it's all so interesting, and sometimes I struggle to understand how a passion for science is not a universal human experience. I share that in common with the main character of a manga I've been reading for maybe a year now, Dr Stone.

In Dr Stone, the world of 21st Century humanity is brought crashing to a halt when a bright wave of mysterious light blankets the entire planet, and everywhere on the entire globe, humans have been turned to stone. 3700 years later, a young man who has kept his mind active within the stone forces himself awake and breaks out. Around him, nature has reclaimed the Earth and millennia of human progress has been all but buried.

Senku is a young man of science, and spent years obsessing over every scientific domain he could comprehend in order to one day travel to space. In this stone world, armed with this wealth of science progress in his mind, Senku begins efforts to restart the scientific age, and free every single person frozen in stone. He starts with a mysterious acid that breaks down the stone. Then he develops tools, machinery, electricity, and eventually, he wants to push humanity back to the space age within his lifetime. Senku may be a know it all, but knowledge only gets you so far. Thanks to the allies he makes, a wealth of expertise will be harnessed to bring his dream to fruition.

Dr Stone is a must read for anyone who enjoys Scifi. Although the rate at which progress is made seems absurd, every single scientific process the kingdom of science works on is real science. Although post apocalyptic themes establish the base for the story and the supernatural force that turned humanity to stone is the main adversary, Dr Stone is a very scientific story based on real Earth and its just... exhilarating!

The scope of the story begins on the small scale in primitive villages, but the story eventually reaches a global scale. There are adversaries at each step, those who wish to rule the Stone World with might, free of the tyranny science had in our age, and there are also those who wish to use science as its own form of might, but Senku and his allies want to use science for the benefit of everyone. So that one day, all of humanity will be restored, and that eventually, he will get to moon.

I will refrain from speaking any further on story specifics because you really should experience the plot for yourself. So I will end with the presentation itself. The art and format of the manga are beautiful. Character designs are rugged, stylised, and exciting, it's very easy to determine what a character is all about just by their unique appearance.

In the last week, I have begun watching the anime, as it has been long enough since I started reading that I can experience parts of the plot anew. The anime is very beautifully made, the world is lush and beautiful, and characters move in such a fun and interesting way. I'm watching the English dub, and characters sound exactly like the voices I had for them in my head.

If you have even an inkling of interest in Dr Stone after reading what I've said today, you should definitely experience the story for yourself, 1 billion percent.

#blog #blogpost #media recommendations #anime recommendations #manga recommendation #the legend of zelda twilight princess #the legend of zelda #twilight princess #twilight princess manga #akira himekawa #dr stone #dr stone manga #dr stone anime #boichi #inagaki

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rovelae · 3 years

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Behind the Scenes of “Hologram”

Today marks exactly one year since I posted arguably my most popular fic. “Hologram” is a postgame Saiouma one-shot about escapism, loneliness, and running away from the past. I put a lot of myself into this fic and I’m blown away by all the love it’s received, not only on AO3 but in Discord servers and other social media. All that excitement made me keep thinking about it, so I thought I’d share a (very self-indulgent) behind-the-scenes of sorts about how I wrote it, as well as what I think of the story.

This essay will contain spoilers for the whole fic, so if you’d like to read it first, you can find it here. Of course, if the tags scare you off, that’s valid, but you might want to skip this post too since I’ll be quoting it throughout (so, just to be safe, expect the warnings I’ve posted on AO3 to apply here too).

If you’re a Lorde fan you’ll recognize the lyrics in the fic summary – “Nothing’s wrong when nothing’s true,” from “Buzzcut Season.” The inspiration for this fic came to me while I was on my way to an early shift at work, and I needed a good song in my head to give me the will to live for the next eight hours. Not sure why I chose that song in particular, but maybe part of it is because I like imagining stories to go along with the songs I listen to, like AMVs playing in my head, and I’d never been able to pin down exactly what this song reminded me of.

The mood of the music is really what compelled me – there’s something lonely about it, and the lyrics sound like the singer’s trying to convince herself that everything’s okay even when all evidence points otherwise. There are “explosions on TV”, and “The men up on the news / They try to tell us all that we will lose,” but “we live beside the pool / Where everything is good.” Despite everything going wrong, despite the notes of fear creeping into the pre-chorus, the character will “play along… in a hologram with you” and “never go home again.”

From there, it was an easy jump to “postgame Saiou” and that was that.

There’s a cloud of seagulls hovering in the air around him, and a dozen or so more standing just out of reach, staring him down with beady black eyes. Kokichi takes a slice of bread from the loaf he’s holding and tosses it to one of the birds, watches it catch it and stumble under the weight, watches its head bob as it tries to swallow the whole thing at once. It gets remarkably far before four other birds descend on it, shrieking wildly.

“Mine, mine, mine,” he mumbles into his folded arms, wondering if Shuichi would get the reference.

He really wishes Shuichi was here.

Kokichi upends the rest of the loaf of bread onto the sidewalk and laughs at the resulting chaos until his chest aches.

To start off, I wanted to create the same lonely mood from “Buzzcut Season” in Kokichi’s simulation. He’s not exactly trapped there, but he’s refusing to leave, because as long as he’s on the fake Jabberwock Island, he can pretend the killing game never happened. The trade-off to that escapism is that the only people he can talk to are the NPCs, who aren’t complex enough to be remotely interesting to him, and Usami, who… well, tries her best, but is more of an informational / moderation program and can’t offer him what a therapist could.

The only thing Kokichi has to look forward to is Shuichi, who he’s convinced is an extremely lifelike computer program rather than the real thing, because the real Shuichi would definitely hate him for everything that happened during the killing game. He’s so locked into this line of logic that he doesn’t let himself consider that Shuichi has forgiven him – he doesn’t even have a good answer for why the Future Foundation wouldn’t just keep the supposed Shuichi AI on indefinitely, believing it’s their way of baiting him into leaving the simulation.

It’s not a healthy or sustainable lifestyle in the slightest, but Kokichi stubbornly refuses to do anything but wander the islands aimlessly, passing the time with ice cream and feeding seagulls until the next time he can see Shuichi.

He dreams that DICE is here in the simulation with him, smiling and carefree as they explore the weird music venue. One of them has gotten the karaoke machine working, and another found a box of kazoos and maracas in the back room. Kokichi already pities anyone unfortunate enough to walk by the building tonight.

“Not going to sing, Joker?” one of his DICE asks (over the sound of their youngest member shrieking through seven kazoos at once), sitting on the bench next to him.

“Some games are more fun to watch than play,” he answers, leaning back on his hands and sighing.

“Like a killing game.”

The warm dream-atmosphere turns cold then, and Kokichi’s head snaps over to look at him—but his brother is gone and Kaito’s looking back at him instead, blood in his teeth and face ashen pale.

“You... we don’t have to do this, man,” Kaito says, but it’s a lie and they both know it, and he doesn’t want to look behind him because he knows the machine’s looming over him with its unyielding steel and slow slow slow descent—

“You’re not real,” he snaps at dream-Kaito, who doesn’t respond except to lift him up again. “Nothing’s real, none of—PUT ME DOWN! LET GO OF ME! DON’T PUT ME BACK IN THERE!”

“Death is more mercy than you deserve,” Kaito says, and Kokichi claws and bites and kicks his way out of Kaito’s grasp like a wild animal, only to end up in front of a prison cell full of—

DICE, his beloved DICE, trapped and hurt and afraid, bloodied and beaten and helpless.

“Why didn’t you save us, boss?” says his second-in-command, clutching the bars with bleeding hands. “Why didn’t you do more? Now we’re all dead and it’s because of you.”

Moments like this are my reference to Buzzcut Season’s pre-chorus, where the not-okay starts to creep into the illusion. Despite Kokichi’s valiant efforts to forget, he’s still dealing with the aftermath of seeing his family hurt and in danger, watching his friends die, orchestrating the deaths of two of them, being killed himself— and then being told every bit of it was made up to entertain an audience who sees nothing wrong with that picture. Running away is not the way to heal from trauma, and one day soon it’s all bound to come crashing down around him.

“Do you know what this … island paradise represents, Kokichi?” [Hinata] asks, and Kokichi’s really not in the mood for a lecture but he continues anyway. “Jabberwock Island … was the setting for the fiftieth season of Danganronpa. The golden anniversary, they called it. It was my season.”

Kokichi hunches over, hugging his arms over his torso and stifiling a scream. He does not want to think about this right now—

“They wanted it to be the best season of all, which, unfortunately for us, meant it was also the bloodiest,” Hinata says. “Twice as many participants, deadly traps hidden across each of the islands— they even changed the way the motives worked, like when they told Fuyuhiko to cut out his own eye so Peko could have a quick death instead of suffering for days.”

“Do I look like your therapist, porcupine-head?” Kokichi hisses. A sharp pain is pounding into his skull, and there’s a bitter, metallic taste at the back of his throat. A taste like poison and blood.

“There was so much going on that the simulation malfunctioned,” Hinata says. “When people died, their Ultimate talents downloaded themselves into me. I’m told that the stress of so many personality grafts came close to liquefying my frontal lobe. I’m lucky I woke up at all… especially considering more than half of the others didn’t.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Kokichi grates out through the static building in his head. If he opens his eyes, will he see the beach or the dull chrome of the machine closing in on him?

“Because I know how much you want to forget about what happened,” Hinata says. “Believe me, I get it.”

….

“These things that happened to us… we can’t erase them, no matter how much we want to. Some things have to be remembered.”

I’d mostly like to leave Hajime’s season up to interpretation, but there are a couple things I wanted to say about it. I imagine Danganronpa is like the Hunger Games in that it’d go all out for big anniversaries. So, there were twice as many participants for the Jabberwock Island beatdown that was probably subtitled “Bloodbath Bay” or something equally appealing. The game’s formula changed from a focus on the mystery and the trials to “look at all these kids massacring each other a la Lord of the Flies,” and since the VR system wasn’t equipped to handle that many people and their deaths, it malfunctioned, giving Hajime way too many Ultimate talents and putting half the cast into comas from which they never woke up.

Viewers either absolutely loved or absolutely hated this season, depending on whether they were DR fans because of the “blood n’ guts” factor or the “mystery and psychological thriller” aspect. Team Danganronpa faced quite a bit of backlash for actually causing the real-life deaths of half its participants, but were able to weasel their way out of serious legal repercussions because of the waivers the participants had signed beforehand (plus a lot of bribery and falling back on their longstanding popularity). So, the cast of Season 50 failed to end the killing game, but helped provide great evidence for the “Danganronpa is morally wrong” argument.

Hajime works as a victim liaison for the Future Foundation and has been trying to take down Danganronpa since he got out of it. He’s like that in a few of my fics, actually; I like the idea of Hajime acting as a big brother of sorts to the V3 cast. It’s especially entertaining to imagine his interactions with Kokichi— though maybe not so much in Hologram, since to Kokichi he’s a representation of the past he’s trying so desperately to forget and the future he refuses to acknowledge.

“SHUT UP!” He launches himself at Hinata, his hands wrapping around the other man’s throat as he uses his momentum to slam him to the ground. “SHUT! UP!”

“Ko— ghk—” Hinata coughs, eyes wide with surprise, but aside from moving his hands up to grip Kokichi’s wrists, he doesn’t seem all that worried about fighting back.

The thought only fuels Kokichi’s rage until he’s choking Hinata so hard his knuckles are white. “If you want me out of this simulation so badly, you can kill me,” he snarls. “I’m never waking up! I’m never leaving, do you UNDERSTAND ME?”

Hinata grimaces, the outline of his avatar flickering, but he still doesn’t struggle, and Kokichi hates him all the more for it, despises him with a seething malice that festers low in his stomach. He wonders distantly if he’d actually kill this man in real life. Or if he’d be able to stop himself, feeling like this.

Kokichi’s breakdown here is more out of fear than anger. Like I mentioned, Kokichi sees Hajime as another piece of what’s hurt him, and no matter how Hajime tries to help, Kokichi will always remember Danganronpa whenever he sees him.

Warm yellow-orange light casts a relaxed, cozy glow over the dining hall. It’s an ambience compounded by the flickering candles on the table, which seems overly idyllic, but Kokichi will let it slide because of the adorable way Shuichi flushed when he noticed them as they sat down. Well, if he’s being honest, everything about Shuichi right now is adorable, from the way his hair keeps falling into his eyes to the way he’s nervously fiddling wth his chopsticks. Kokichi wishes he could keep staring at him forever.

Ah, not… not in a weird way, though, just… because Shuichi’s beautiful, and when Kokichi looks at him he can forget everything bad that’s ever happened, can create some new and brighter world to exist in.

This is an idea I wish I’d had room to explore a bit more in the story— that is, just how far Kokichi will go to pretend everything’s fine. I thought about making him border on delusional, like having him talk to people who aren’t there or forget what’s actually happening around him because he’s so lost in his fiction-within-a-fiction. It would have creeped Shuichi out a whole lot.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t much room for that past the plot I’d already nailed down, so I focused on his loneliness and escapism instead. I do touch on it later in this scene, though— the couple paragraphs where he slips into fantasizing about being a phantom thief having a surreptitious meeting with his detective under the not-so-subtle supervision of his DICE. There would have been a lot more of that if I’d gone with the ‘delusion’ stylistic choice, to the point where even the readers would be confused about what’s real. Maybe I’ll look into writing something similar in a future story.

Eventually, Shuichi sets down his bowl and looks away with a little sigh, and Kokichi clenches his teeth because that’s the sigh he does when it’s time for that conversation.

“Um… Kokichi?”

Kokichi’s only response is to exhale the breath he’d been holding in a quiet hiss.

“I-I know you don’t want to, but… but I really need to talk to you about something,” Shuichi says. “Please?”

“My Mr. Detective can talk about whatever he’d like!” Kokichi says with a lilt to his tone that makes it sound more sarcastic than he wants it to. He takes the last bite of curry and wishes that it burns hot enough to hurt.

“It’s about Kaito.”

This more serious part of the date scene is meant to reflect the little bridge in “Buzzcut Season”:

“Cola with the burnt-out taste

I’m the one you tell your fears to

There’ll never be enough of us.”

It’s a part of the song that sounds especially bittersweet to me, a bit of self-awareness between the insistence that everything’s okay.

Really all I think I managed was to reference it when Kokichi’s internal dialogue comments on his drink being “so sweet it tastes burnt” and then later not tasting like anything. But hopefully the mood’s still there.

“Tell him… that I have nothing against him,” he says.

“That’s … not a lie?” Shuichi presses.

Kokichi shakes his head idly, still not raising his gaze. “I wanted to wreck the killing game and he wanted to save his friend. We both got what we wanted. I’d say the end more than justifies the means.”

Was that a lie?

(I don’t want to die Shuichi I’m sorry I’m sorry save me Shuichi please I’m sorry ithurtsmakeitstop—)

His fingers tighten into clawlike shapes, nails digging sharply into his forearms.

I really don’t think Kokichi would have anything against Kaito, even if here he’s not being completely honest with how much he’s affected by what happened. It wouldn’t make sense to him to hate Kaito for something he himself proposed, but I think there’d still be a subconscious barrier between them. Too much history.

“Don’t go, Shuichi, I’m so sorry, I— that was so dumb, what I said, please don’t be sad anymore.” He’s not sure if he can’t breathe because of the exertion of running or because of the hysteria boiling over in his head. “Please don’t go, I didn’t mean to hurt you— please don’t leave, Shuichi, I’m so sorry.”

“Oh, Kokichi….” Shuichi’s tone is strange, soft and pitying, like he sees something Kokichi doesn’t, and he shakes his head slowly as more tears follow the paths of the others.

Kokichi goes to his knees, ready to grovel if that’s what it takes, but Shuichi follows him down, closing his other hand over Kokichi’s, and then they’re both crying and he doesn’t know why, and all he can do is repeat a mantra of I’m sorry and hold on as tight as he can.

It’s horrible. Shuichi’s horrible. Shuichi’s wonderful, and kind and lovely and perfect and Kokichi hates him, Kokichi adores him, and it doesn’t matter because Shuichi’s not actually here but Kokichi doesn’t want to be alone, just let me pretend some more, please, please let me have this—

“I’ll… I’ll stay,” Shuichi says at last. “I can stay a while longer.”

You shouldn’t, Kokichi wants to say, but his mouth won’t obey him. You shouldn’t stay if you don’t want to. I don’t deserve having you here. I’m not worth your mercy.

But there on the bridge, crying tears of relief, he soaks up as much mercy as he can get and hopes it’s enough to drown him.

I wanted to create a contrast between them that highlights just how the isolation and trauma Kokichi’s experiencing has affected him. He has an almost unhealthy reliance on Shuichi as “the only thing that makes this world bearable,” and panics when faced with the prospect of being alone again so soon. Part of why Shuichi’s crying is because he’s realized the extent of Kokichi’s desperation. It’s not that he thinks Kokichi’s apology is insincere, but that he’s hardly heard him apologize for anything before, so Kokichi going this far has him realizing how bad things really are.

The door rumbles and slides open when they approach, revealing the bright light of the log-out point that took Shuichi away every time, that would wake Kokichi up in his real body if he walked into it. Shuichi stops just a step away from it, biting his lip as if searching for something to say, but before he can find it, Kokichi reaches out to tug at his sleeve.

“Shuichi?” he says, distant as the waves on the beach that he can still hear if he listens closely enough. Shuichi turns back toward him. “Before you go, can I be selfish one more time?”

“Huh…?”

Shuichi doesn’t move when Kokichi steps closer, reaches up to ghost his fingertips over Shuichi’s jaw and around the back of his neck. He lets Kokichi tilt his head downward, lets him hover inches away, close enough to feel their breath mingle in the night air. Kokichi pauses there to give him the chance to pull away. He doesn’t.

So Kokichi closes his eyes and the distance between them.

That last line is a ZEUGMA! It’s a literary device where one word refers to two more in a different way. A popular example is the hyenas’ line “Our teeth and ambitions are bared” from The Lion King. It’s my favorite grammatical trick and I’d love to see more of it in fanfic.

Slowly, he slides his hand down to Shuichi’s shoulder, using it as leverage to push himself away. That hurts even more. He can’t seem to open his eyes, and he feels so weakened, breathless, fragile. Cracked open, hollowed out.

When he finally does open his eyes, Shuichi’s are wide with some mix of astonishment and a dozen other emotions. Kokichi bows his head, taking a deep breath to ground himself. “Sorry,” he whispers. “I just wanted to know.”

“Kokichi,” Shuichi breathes, like a bullet through his heart.

“Goodbye, Shuichi,” Kokichi says, and shoves him into the light.

Shuichi’s little yelp of surprise cuts off abruptly as he falls through the door, vanishing into the glow, and all too soon, Kokichi’s alone again in a dream that suddenly seems far too vast. Alone, with the faintest taste of Shuichi’s lips still lingering on his own.

And he thinks, It was enough just to know you.

It’s a lie.

Nothing to say here except that this is my favorite scene and I’m so happy with how it turned out.

Fake sun rises over fake ocean, fake seagulls glide through fake sky while fake wind tousles fake palm fronds. Kokichi lies on his stomach in the fake grass and talks to his fake family in the fake notebook. Gives them fake names and runs through everything he remembers about them. Apologizes, over and over, wishes he could hug each of them goodbye one last time. Wonders if it would be more painful to die or to never have existed at all.

He leaves the notebook of his memories on the seat of one of the Ferris wheel cars on the fourth island, because one time he promised them they’d steal the London Eye together.

He buys a can of fake soda from the fake convenience store on the first island and sits on the fake beach watching the fake waves. Wonders when he’d hit the end of the simulation if he started swimming, or if he’d drown first.

White sand, blue sea, bluer sky. Washed out, like an amateur watercolor painting.

He opens the soda can and raises it to his mouth, but … even the thought of drinking it makes him sick to his stomach. He sets it down in the sand and flicks it over, watching the bubbly liquid run down and sink into the sand. The color’s all wrong, like blood streaked against a metal floor.

He walks the fake streets of the fifth island, passing fake skyscrapers and fake commuters and their fake conversations, until he finally stops outside the factory he’s never been able to bring himself to go into. Smells like oil, and metal and machines and he can hear the sounds and he’s immediately back in the hangar, dizzy on adrenaline and desperation and leaning heavily on Kaito so he doesn’t keel over and die then and there. Kaito says something about how maybe he should sit down for a minute, and Kokichi didn’t agree back then but he does now, goes down on all fours and dry heaves.

When his vision solidifies and he can stop gasping for breath, he sits up and presses his back against the factory wall, covering his ears and hiding his face in his knees. Tries to convince himself not to imagine Shuichi’s there with him, holding his hand again, promising everything’s going to be okay.

“I’ve got you. No one’s going to hurt you anymore,” or maybe, “Breathe with me, it’ll be over soon. You’re safe now.”

I love you.

He laughs until there’s nothing left in his lungs. He called these little daydreams obsession, before, but now they just seem sick and insane.

I wanted to indicate throughout this scene that Kokichi’s gotten substantially worse. Instead of halfheartedly interacting with the NPCs or finding something to spend time doing, he’s aimlessly wandering the islands, focused on how fake all of it is. Not even talking to his sketches of DICE can make him feel better. The suicidal ideation starts to slip in even if he doesn’t realize it— a fixation on wondering what death is like, purposefully triggering himself by walking by the factory….

The thing I want to talk about most though is the italicized I love you. I left it outside of quotation marks and dialogue tags on purpose because I wanted it to be ambiguous as to who’s saying it. If it’s Kokichi’s line, it’s sudden and almost out of place, like he couldn’t hold back from thinking it anymore. But it could be Shuichi saying it, too. Since it’s outside quotation marks, unlike the previous dream-Shuichi lines, it’s more vague, almost a whisper in Kokichi’s thoughts— like he can barely bring himself to imagine it and even feels guilty doing so, because there’s no way it could possibly be real.

Which do you think?

Eh, I don’t have an answer. When I hear it in my head, they say it at the same time.

“How did you know?” he finally croaks.

Shuichi’s breathing still sounds shaky, too. “Because you said ‘goodbye,’” he says.

Kokichi finally looks up at him in a silent question.

“You never say goodbye,” Shuichi says, rubbing his sleeve over his eyes. “It’s always….”

“‘See you later,’” Kokichi finishes for him. Despite himself, a tiny huff of astonished laughter escapes him. “I didn’t even know, not until a couple of hours ago. And you figured it all out from one word?”

Shuichi bites his lip at that. “You kissed me,” he says.

Kokichi’s stomach twists and he looks away. “I said I was sorry—”

“No.” Shuichi squeezes his hand into a fist and lets it fall to thump against Kokichi’s chest, like he’s trying to knock some sense into him. “It was so honest, and vulnerable, and… and I know how much you hate showing how you really feel.” Another tiny sob catches in his throat. “And so it felt like … like something you’d do if you weren’t going to s-see me again.”

“Shuichi….” Kokichi trails off as Shuichi muffles his cries in his hand again. He’s so breathtakingly smart. There’s no one else in the world who thinks that way, no one else who could possibly be that attentive and that clever. Not a programmer, not a team of shrinks… how can an AI manage it? How is it that Shuichi always manages to take him by surprise? How can he see straight through him when he least expects it?

Kokichi’s hand reaches up to Shuichi’s cheek. Reverently traces the path of the tears falling down it.

“I wish you were real,” he confesses in a whisper.

Kokichi’s stubborn. So, so stubborn. And he’s not used to being cared about, if the way he does everything by himself is any indication. So it makes sense to me that he’ll refuse to believe anything good can happen to him even in the face of convincing evidence. He’s pretty self-hating for someone so arrogant.

Kokichi’s weak, deep down to his core, weak for this man. Already knows he’d do anything for him, and the thought is terrifying—that one person could have that much power over him, even if he doesn’t realize it.

But what if he has realized it? Couldn’t this all be an elaborate ruse, a lie he knew Kokichi would be so desperate to believe that he wouldn’t bother questioning it?

…Shuichi’s never hurt him, though. Only that one time, when he really deserved it. Shuichi wouldn’t … betray him, even for what he thinks is Kokichi’s own good. They’re… different from each other, that way.

But still….

“I’m so scared, Shuichi.” It’s barely a whisper. “I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

“You won’t be.” It’s so hard to be skeptical, lost in his eyes. “I’ll be right there with you, for as long as you want. I won’t let you feel like this anymore.”

Promise me, he wants to blurt out. Promise you’ll stay. Promise me you’ll never leave me, Shuichi, he wants to demand, but that’s wrong, that’s manipulative and selfish and everything he doesn’t want to be for Shuichi anymore.

Shuichi, of course, says it anyway.

“I promise, Kokichi.”

…

“Kiss me again,” he says. “Please?”

Shuichi leans in close, then pauses, his brow furrowing the way it does when he catches him in a lie.

“I’ll kiss you again in the real world,” Shuichi says. “Okay?”

Kokichi shakes his head. “Shuichi, please.” Please, I don’t think I can do this. Please, I don’t want to wake up to a lie. Please, one last kiss for me to remember in case it was all fake.

Shuichi reaches out to tilt his chin up and Kokichi closes his eyes, savoring every second, burning it into his memory.

Shuichi’s soft breath ghosts over his lips.

“Trust me,” he murmurs.

Kokichi’s eyes flutter back open, searching his face. Shifting him around on the white board in his head, seeing what categories he fits into this time. Weird, of course. Suspicious, maybe not. Trustworthy?

Trustworthy….

“I do trust you,” he realizes.

Kokichi’s still hesitant to accept all of this— Shuichi kissing him didn’t magically fix everything. He’ll still doubt all the way to the log-out point, but at least now he realizes that this simulation is only hurting him— that if things are to get better they’re going to have to change, too. He’s got a long way to go before he’s all right, but he’s not going to have to face it alone anymore.

And that’s a wrap!

Once again, I’m really proud of this story, and I feel like I grew as a writer because of it. There are a few things I would change if I wrote it again, but for all its flaws it’s still my baby and I like how it turned out.

Thanks again for all your support for “Hologram,” and thanks even more if you actually waded through all this nonsense of a director’s cut. It’s a huge confidence-boost to think that people liked what I wrote, and even wanted to hear what I had to say about it. If there’s any interest, I’d love to review some of my other fics here, or theorize or brainstorm or whatever else you’re into. (Ask me what Byakuya’s Thing is in my superhero AU, I dare you 😉)

I do have a WIP in my folder of bits and pieces currently titled “boy finally gets that kiss”, and it’s a post-Hologram scene from Shuichi’s point of view to just sorta… tie it all together, have them talk things over again… and kiss, of course. We’ll see if anything comes out of that.

Until next time!

#Rov talks #Hologram #Saiouma #Oumasai #Behind the scenes #Director's cut #Fanfic review

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sserpente · 4 years

Text

Ablaze (Part II)

A/N: I am way too excited about this TV series. I wonder how many theories will make sense in the end. Here goes Part II, enjoy everyone! ♥

Read Part I here.

Words: 4138 Warnings: there’s going to be a gory corpse

A dark scream ripped you from your uneasy sleep. Alarmed, you sat up straight, ready to defend yourself with the next-best weapon within your reach—a table lamp, in this case. But there was no one there to hurt you. Instead, you noticed Loki, the god who was practically holding you hostage in your own flat after setting the headquarters of TVA, the secret organisation monitoring the multiverse, on fire, thrashing in bed right next to you as if he was possessed. Wait… was he… dreaming?

“No…” He growled. “No!”

Still giddy, you switched on the table lamp and studied the heavily breathing Trickster by your side. His blue eyes were closed. So he was having a nightmare. Should you… should you wake him? What if he accidentally hurt you in his frenzy?

Biting your lower lip, and with your heart pounding in your chest like a steam hammer, you reached for him, carefully grabbing his bare shoulder. The singeing sensation of his remarkably cool skin under your palm made you flinch.

“L-Loki? Loki, wake up, you’re having a nightmare.”

You gasped for air, terrified, when he opened his eyes with a start, momentarily disoriented. His hand darted forward to snatch your wrist so firmly it hurt. You winced.

“Loki…”

It took him another moment to realise you were no threat to him. Finally, his deadly expression softened. His breath was shaky, sweat pooling on his forehead, his neck and even his chest, shimmering in the artificial light of your table lamp. It was, quite strangely, a sight which would have aroused you if it wasn’t for the fact he was a war and time criminal, held you captive and could have killed you in his sleep just a moment ago. God, how could you even think about his looks in this whole horrifying situation?

With a start, Loki let go of his wrists as if hot flames were licking at his cold fingers, defending your body.

He said nothing more. Instead, he merely turned his back to you again… almost as if nothing had happened at all. You would never find out that he noticed you spent the majority of the rest of the night wide awake. But so did he.

Drowsily, you blinked against the gentle sunlight fighting its way through your curtains. It was a beautiful morning, peaceful. You sat up, your eyes registering an empty mug and a dark stain on your carpet.

Your heart skipped a beat when you remembered. Last night, you had involuntarily fallen asleep next to the God of Mischief who had taken you hostage in your own flat after destroying TVA’s headquarters like a house made of LEGO bricks. You remembered his nightmare, too. The way he had had jerked and grunted, almost as if his own subconscious was inflicting serious pain on him… as if it was torturing him. What, for Heaven’s sake, caused such terrifying bad dreams? What… what had he been through opening and travelling through all those portals on your radar?

You were in danger, serious danger so. You had no clue if Loki planned to kill you anytime soon. If he forced you into doing his biddings with violence… no. No, he did not seem like the sort of person who would physically harm women simply for the sake of it. There were limits even to his malice, you were sure of it. Or at least, that was what you were hoping.

As expected, and much to your relief, the other side of the bed was empty, the sheets unmade. You could hear him in the kitchen, opening drawers and cupboards almost frantically. With your heart in your mouth, you made your way into the kitchen.

“Is there anything edible in your accommodation?” He complained, shutting the fridge shut without even spinning around to face you. “Where is the sweet hot chocolate mixture you used last night?”

“In the cupboard above the counter.” I mean, what was the point of lying? He would find it anyway, at some point, only angrier. You almost snorted at the thought of trading your survival for hot chocolate.

“Make us something to eat. I need sustenance.”

Make us something to eat? You clenched your fists, eyeing the coffee machine in the corner of the kitchen and wondering if you were less likely to risk your life by talking back once you had pumped your body full of caffeine.

Your heart was pounding. You barely dared to move around him. Loki glared at you but said nothing. It was like he felt you remembering what had happened last night.

“If you lose a word about what you witnessed last night…” He growled darkly.

“Don’t threaten me,” you whispered weakly. “It’s not like I have anyone left to tell anyway.” You paused, curious whether he was going to reply. He did not. “I-I’m having cereal.” You said, despite your lack of appetite. “You can have a bowl too.” As if I had a choice sharing my food with you…

You had just poured some milk into both your cereal bowls when a loud song ripped apart the tense silence in the kitchen. Your phone! Your eyes widened. Oh God, you still had your phone! How could you have been so stupid?

Starting for the living room, you were panting by the time you picked up. It was Isabelle, one of your co-workers. A fellow agent who must have survived! Your hands were shaking.

“Hello?”

“(Y/N)! Thank the Lord, you’re okay.”

“So are you! I-I am… more or less, I…” You did not need to turn around to feel his presence behind you. Loki was eyeing you threateningly, circling you slowly. The message was clear—if you told anyone he was here, you would be in some serious trouble. You swallowed thickly.

“Do you… do you know who else made it out?”

“I’ve been on the phone all morning but nothing’s confirmed yet. They’re optimistic but Jed is devastated. He’s trying to get us all back on track… whoever’s left of us, anyway.” Jed was your boss, more or less, guiding your missions and keeping a neat overview over everything that happened within TVA. You eyed Loki from the corners of his eyes, looking for anything to ease your mind. A hint of remorse, perhaps. Regret, pity, anything would have sufficed. He was like an impenetrable wall.

“Can you meet us? By the river? Jed is already on his way.”

“W-why?”

“We found traces of another portal but…”

“But what?!”

“This time… there is… (Y/N), someone has been murdered.” You took a sharp breath. Ever since Loki’s capture, you had almost forgotten about those mysterious portals that seemed to keep appearing out of nowhere. For a moment there, you had all assumed it had been Loki himself, repeatedly using the Tesseract. Given that he had been with you last night, however, and before that, had spent his time in custody at TVA’s headquarters... before he had… burned them all down… it could not possibly have been him. You swallowed. For once, you knew that he was innocent. There was someone else still out there. And they were, so it appeared, equally dangerous. “Where are you right now?”

It was then Loki snatched the phone from your grasp, clutching it so tightly the screen cracked… and went black. Fuck. You should have screamed bloody murder the minute you had picked it up.

“W-what…”

“Do you truly think I will let you tell them about your whereabouts so lightly?” He snarled.

“They will get suspicious if I don’t show up!” You yelled, your lower lip shaking.

“Show up where?”

“T-the crime scene. There has been a murder.”

Loki frowned. “I believed you are monitoring time travel, not petty crimes.”

Slowly, you shook your head. Murder was hardly petty. Well… perhaps it was to him, given you were only humans. Swallowing your anger, you looked up at him with courage. “We normally don’t but…”

“But?” He probed strictly when you trailed off. You flinched.

“There… we have repeatedly recorded interdimensional portals. They interfere with our readings. Something is… off about this and now someone is dead and I… we have been trying to find out what it is even before you came along and destroyed our headquarters, you know.” It was just that SHIELD wouldn’t let you. It was a fight over power and recognition, really.

“I want to see it.” Loki stated simply. Your eyes widened. “How many portals have there been?”

“Thirteen.”

“You believe they have a harmful cause?”

“We don’t know that yet. We are monitoring everything. Those energy waves did not go unnoticed by our radars, they are going to start tearing time and reality apart if we don’t stop whoever is creating them. SHIELD has already…”

Loki’s face distorted.

“You work with SHIELD?”

“We do, if we must but we prefer to keep our distance.”

He rolled his eyes. “I see. When did the first portals begin to appear?”

“A few weeks ago. Whoever it is… I don’t think they realise that they are being watched.” Hugging yourself, you took the opportunity to move away from him a little, watching from a safer distance how he pensively looked out of the window. Suddenly, the weather did not at all fit the depressing situation you were in, let alone the topic you were talking about.

“Yes… I can imagine that.”

“W-what?” You frowned. “What do you mean by that? Do you know who it could be? Is it one of your allies?”

Loki’s gaze darted back to you—seriously. “I don’t have allies,” he spat. “I shall join you.”

“You can’t just… walk in on a crime scene unauthorised.”

“I just walked into your flat, did I not?” He mocked.

“They will recognise you.” You argued, voice shaking audibly.

“They will not.” Loki smirked. “No one but you will be able to see who I truly am.”

Fuck. Did you have a choice? After what he had done last night… could you refuse him? You sighed, defeated. No. Probably not.

There were thunders in the distance when you left, the initially blue sky slowly turning grey. Heavy clouds pushed in front of the sun, blocking its light from reaching Earth. That is more like it. If you got suspended today because you brought a war criminal to a crime scene revealing important details about another potential threat, at least it would not happen in broad and warm sunlight.

You were nervous. No, you were terrified. If there was one thing your boss did not accept, it was weakness and fear of what might happen if you chose to prioritise your survival over protecting life in the multiverse. It sounded cruel and ridiculously altruistic but you had known what you got yourself into with working for TVA. There was only one thing worse than egoism. And that was treason.

Yet here you were now, approaching a crime scene with a criminal who had ensured you he would be looking like a normal Midgardian man to anyone you met. Spotting SHIELD first thing you arrived did not exactly ease your nerves. Taking a shaky breath, you approached them. Rain was falling by now, wetting the asphalt and your clothes. At least, part of your uniform was waterproof.

You could tell Loki was watching you intently as you tensed the closer you got. He was dressed in a surprisingly inconspicuous police uniform—plain beige trousers and a white shirt, a black tie and an equally beige police jacket with a badge.

Luckily enough, Jed arrived just when the SHIELD agent, Jeff, so you knew, lifted his arms to stop you from stepping over the barrier tape despite your ID. With his blonde hair fluttering in the wind, he looked a little like Owen Wilson. He even sounded a little like him too.

“What are you doing here, TVA?” Jeff groaned with dismay. “This is our crime scene. You have no business here.”

“Shut it. The energy readings we keep getting from these portals say something different. They have been interfering with our radars for weeks now. We can’t keep the world safe from potential threats in time and the multiverse if we can’t observe it properly. So I disagree. This is our crime scene too. Now get out of my way.” He paused, turning to you. “(Y/N), I’m glad to see you’re well.”

“You too.” You replied with a court nod.

“Who is that?”

“Uh… He is, uh, with the… the police.” You lied quickly. You couldn’t believe you were doing this. Help me, you attempted to scream with your eyes. You must realise that something is wrong! But he did not.

“Luke.” Loki jumped in, letting his charm do all the work as he offered Jed his hand. He took and shook it, his initial suspicion dying down once the God of Mischief gave him a sly smile.

“Right. Pleased to meet you, Sir. We’ll do our best to get the situation under control, then I promise we’ll leave you to it. A lot of my agents have been in a critical state in the hospital since that Asgardian arsehole escaped from us last night. There is no excuse for that faux-pas but he is… difficult to say the least. It’ll take us a while to make amends.”

“Asgardian arsehole?” Jeff interrupted. “What are you talking about? The war criminal Loki was taken back to Asgard by Thor years ago.”

Jed pressed his lips together to a thin line. “It’s complicated.”

Panicking, you gasped for air but much to your surprise, Loki did nothing whatsoever. He only smiled—maliciously so.

“I am deeply sorry for your loss.” He stated hollowly, making you swallow thickly. If Jed only knew… “So? What is it that interferes with your radars, agent?”

“We don’t know. It almost feels like…” Jed looked at you.

“As if there are remnants of… magic… it’s crackling.” The both of you were unable to tell him more than you already had. As a TVA agent, you were not dealing with murders often. Accidents, yes but actual murder? Hardly, fortunately.

Loki lifted his chin. “Show me this corpse.”

“Here,” you announced, taking a step back when you felt the energy waves pushing against every fibre of your skin. You had been focused not to give the dead body surrounded by barrier tape and a pool of blood more glances than absolutely necessary, to ignore the dreadful and almost sweet stench of decay. It had been… cut in half. The victim must have tried to enter the portal after whoever had created it—but had been too slow to make it through entirely. Scrunching up your nose, you resisted a gag. You were a TVA agent, for Goodness sake. Pull yourself together. There are worse things. Just like being kept hostage by a dangerous god without anyone even knowing. It certainly was a good sign he had not harmed you as of yet though, no? What, however, would happen once you got a chance to tell Jed the truth? Would he kill you after all? Set your flat on fire as well?

Gulping, you wiped your sweaty palms on your trousers, your heart speeding up in your chest when you felt his presence behind you. His body temperature was remarkably cool, yet you could practically feel the heat radiating off of him, making you feel small and powerless next to him. Still, there was this tiny part of you—a barely audible voice whispering in your mind—that enjoyed the fear and the excitement that came with being Loki’s… captive.

The urge to slap yourself rose.

“What causes this?” You managed to choke out.

You watched, almost in awe, how he brought up his palm to touch the remaining energy waves your radars had recorded prior to arriving at the crime scene. Unlike yours, however, his palms began to shimmer in a green light.

“It is unlike the gamma radiation the Tesseract emits. It’s more… crackling. That probably doesn’t make any sense.”

“Oh, it makes perfect sense.” Loki replied matter-of-factly. “The crackling, as you describe it, is of magical origin. On Asgard, we call it seidr. Few can wield it, fewer are able to take their skills beyond simple tricks.”

“What… are you saying that whoever is creating these portals is Asgardian too?”

“I am not…” Loki took a deep breath and pressed his lips together to a thin line before speaking on. “They might be. I only know one person who would be capable of finding a way to open doors to other realities like that.”

Glancing at him in utter shock, you waited for him to continue. He did not. Instead, he directed his attention at the person approaching you before you even registered the footsteps on the wet asphalt yourself. You were hauled into a hug, all air pressed from your lungs and your eyesight blocked by waves of her long ginger hair.

“Isabelle!”

“Don’t you dare scare me like that ever again! The connection was lost and when I tried to call you back, I could only reach your voicemail. What happened? I thought Loki attacked you!”

Well, technically… you swallowed thickly. “No, I, um… I was doing the washing up to distract myself from… you know… and the phone fell into the sink. I put it in a bowl of rice, it should be fine again tomorrow.” There went another lie. You would have to buy a new phone and you sincerely doubted that Loki would let you. Next to you, the God of Mischief chuckled maliciously. Bastard.

“Who are you?” Isabelle frowned at him.

“Luke. Officer Luke.”

“He’s with the… police.”

“I see. You are here alone?” She probed suspiciously.

“I am. I am merely here to ensure things are… taken care of, so to speak.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that. Your superiors are familiar with our work and how significant it is for all our wellbeing.” Loki only raised his eyebrows in a seemingly unimpressed manner.

You wondered, briefly, what would happen if you screamed bloody murder and warned her about him, gave away his identity. Would he kill you straight away? Torture you first? After he had set the TVA headquarters on fire, anything was possible. Bruce Banner had not been wrong. That man’s mind was like a bag full of cats.

“Where is the rest of our team?” You asked her instead. “Have they still not arrived? Jed said a lot of them are being treated in the hospital but…”

“They’re busy finding Loki.”

“Do you, um…” Your voice was shaky. Clearing your throat, you continued despite his threatening presence right beside you. “I didn’t dare to ask Jed back there.” Or Loki, for that matter. “How many agents died in the fire?”

“Only two. Pete and Roth.” The very same agents who had caught Loki. Loki barely put any effort into hiding his satisfaction. Clearly, he had planned this. Taken his revenge. It made you wonder what else he’d have in store for this world even without you spilling his dirty secret. But then again… you remembered how vulnerable he had looked last night in his sleep. There had to be more. So much more.

A loud and alarming bleeping tore through the crispy air with a start. Both Isabelle und you flinched, turning your heads towards the computer station Jed had by now stationed at the crime scene with the help of another agent. The radar was blinking red and purple, the noise downright ear-piercing.

“Jed, what is it?” Isabelle covered her ears.

“Another portal opened.” Loki answered for him, his expression hardening.

“What?! When?! Now?”

He did not reply—instead, he turned on his heel and ran, presumably straight towards the source of the readings.

“Officer! Officer Sir, no, it’s too dangerous! Officer! Damn it. (Y/N), stay where you are!” But you weren’t listening either. You hurried after him, for what reason you did not know yourself. Loki was perfectly capable of defending himself—you were not. If what he had said was true and there was another Asgardian wreaking havoc in this city, you’d do well to leg it and flee. Besides… why would you care? If he died playing curiosity kills the cat, your entire organisation had one problem less to deal with. Why, for Heaven’s sake, did part of you feel like you owed him in spite of this nerve-wrecking fear?

“Stay back!” He yelled.

Gnashing your teeth, you stopped dead in your tracks, blinded by the bright green lights illuminating the narrow alley Loki had run off into.

The energy the portal was radiating was numbing, almost. Like an invisible wall you were trying to step closer, tensing every single muscle in your body to no avail. Loki, however, seemed to have no problems approaching the hazardous time threat at all.

Finally, a tall, blonde woman stepped through. The portal closed behind her, drowning the alley in rainy darkness once more. The impact of the energy ebbing away nearly knocked you off your feet. Right before you could fall, however, a strong and cold hand wrapped around your wrist and pulled you up again seemingly without any effort whatsoever. Gazing up, bedazzled, you met Loki’s serious and reproachful glare.

“I told you to stay back.” He growled, his grip around your wrist almost painful. It was the one already forming a bruise from his sleepy attack last night. He let go as if he had burned himself when he noticed, leaving you there all exhausted and trembling. It was then an almost soft voice sounded behind him, making him stiffen and go pale—if only just a little. Your lips parted.

“By Odin’s beard… Loki?!”

The God of Mischief took a deep breath. “Sylvie.” He too, was surprised, to say the least. Yet if there was one thing Loki was really good at, it was hiding his feelings. So they knew each other. Just great.

“I would recognise that mischievous voice anywhere. What in the nine realms happened to your face?” With some words, it almost sounded like she had a lisp.

“An illusion. I am a fugitive, so it seems.”

“Oh, what have you done now, hmm?” Her laughter tore through the dark alley, next you thing you witnessed she had already thrown herself into his arms, her feet dangling in the air. Loki, albeit hesitantly, reciprocated the hug. “I missed you! Midgard is so boring without you.” She pouted. Never before had you felt as redundant as you did now. It seemed to have been your cue.

“Oh, not again…” She suddenly complained, her brown eyes finding you standing in the background. She glared at you darkly. “Didn’t you see what happened to the last human who attempted to follow me? You would do well to leave me alone if you do not wish to suffer from the same fate.”

“You look very human to me.” At least she was dressed human, unlike Loki when they had first found and brought them to your headquarters.

“Well, I am not. I am Asgardian.” Loki opened his mouth. He never got to say what he intended to.

“Put your hands up in the air and no harm will come to you!” It was Jed’s voice that ripped you all from this uncomfortable and undoubtedly dangerous situation. His gun was aimed at the blonde who rolled her eyes in response. “Officer, step away from her, please! She is likely a hostile!”

The curse Loki uttered sounded a lot like he had spoken it in a foreign language. “We need to leave, now. They have weapons which immobilise even me—long enough for them to shackle you.”

“What? Those meagre mortals? Oh, please…” While the strange woman crossed her arms, Loki reacted already. Unceremoniously, he pulled out the Tesseract out of… seemingly nowhere—your heart skipped a beat when it appeared in his hand and he held it without any sort of protection—and offered her his arm. The woman’s eyes widened. Without any hesitation, she took it. And then, everything happened at once.

“Sir, what are you… the Tesseract. This is Loki! Everyone, this is Loki! Fuck!” More guns were aimed at you all, a low chuckle from the God of Mischief sending ice-cold shivers up and down your spine.

“Wait, don’t shoot! (Y/N) is in the line of fire!” Isabelle’s ear-piercing scream barely reached you when the first gunshots tore through the air as wild as a swarm of wasps. So this was it. You would be shot by your own colleagues and a handful of SHIELD agents.

The last thing you expected Loki to do, however, was to grab you, pull you flush against him and tear you with him into the unknown.

A/N: Stay tuned for Part III!

Check out my blog to find more Imagines and take a glimpse at my first (to be) published novel! If you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate so much if you supported me on Kofi! ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥

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elphiej · 4 years

Text

Be My Light: Prologue

*Pairing: Yoonig X Reader, possible OT7 X Reader (Undecided)

*Genre: Mafia, angst, eventual smut, slow burn

*Warnings: N/A (Yet)

*Summary: In the city of Central, a dark shadow rises as an evil from their past threatens to destroy the members of Bangtan and seize control of the city. While struggling against the rival gangs, as well as their own inner turmoils, they find their journey intertwined with a girl who’s past is a mystery, even to herself. She is lost and broken, but finds she has little choice but to trust the gang members as she becomes a target of the rival gang and drug lords. As they protect their new charge, the boys start to feel things they haven’t thought they would ever have. Can she help them fight against the shadows of their past? Can she melt the cold persona of Bangtan’s second in command? Can they be a beacon for her in own darkness? And can they help her unlock the secrets of her past and help her find her inner strength?

(I’m terrible at writing summaries. Please let me know what you think)

Be My Light

The last few stars in twilight sky illuminates the chrome skyline, barely a soul was awake, as a black SUV pulled up to the curb by a half-constructed office space in the lower part of the City. Hardly anyone who lived in the massive metropolis was about at such an early hour. Especially in this lower section of Central City, where it was mostly cheap apartments, shops, and construction. Central City- barely anyone remembered its true name after the ‘First’ Gangs bestowed the code name upon the citizens. The driver gazed across the empty street to the massive skeleton of a building that loomed in the fading twilight, not liking the ominous feeling that radiated from it like heat from the car’s air conditioner. Nothing about this seemed right and his anxiety settled deep within his gut. This was not the usual drop zone and too far from their own territory. The construction cranes and bulldozers that were deadly still, like a warning, loomed about the shell of the shopping center the civil government thought would bring some life and safety back to this part of the city. The massive, five story building had too many unknown factors for him; there were too many places to hide, too many shadows, too many things to use against them should things go south. He sank lower into the driver seat, anxiety settling like a stone in his gut. It didn’t matter how many of these drops he had done or how many times he had seen things go one way or the other, he still got nervous. He turned his attention to the other member in the car, trying to distract himself.

In the passenger seat, seemingly asleep and unbothered, was a young man who was older in years but shorter in stature than the driver. He had pale skin and platinum blonde hair, dressed up in a simple black shirt and ripped black jeans, with a blood red, long hooded coat, that gave him a vampiric or bringer of death vibe. Fitting for what may happen, the driver thought. His arms were crossed against his chest and his head was leaning against the window. The eldest had been in the same position since they had left their garage a few hours ago. He seemed almost calm, which the younger allotted to his hyung’s experience with the rival gang. However, quite the opposite was the presence in the back, who had stretched himself to lounge on the back seat. There laid an angelic youth with golden, wavy hair and a mischievous glint in his eyes. He was yin and yang personified to those who had seen him in action. The angel had his phone above his face, tapping furiously in a game, the light illuminating his innocent features and smile. The driver knew that once they entered the building that the innocent look would change to something scary once they entered the building. If looks could kill, the driver trailed off. Having both his hyungs with him and both seeming calm should help put him at ease. It was a good team they had in the car and had done much harder things before. But he still couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that loomed over him.

“Hyung,” he said, softy, looking at the sleeping passenger. The other seemed dead to the world, so he repeated himself louder. Only when the other made a noise of acknowledgment did he continue. “Are we sure this is the place?”

The passenger opened his dark eyes and looked across the driver to the construction site. His eyes moved to out his own window before nodding. The angel stopped playing his game and sat up longer enough to confirm with this companion. It wasn’t quite the reassurance the younger man was hoping to get.

“Hyung, I don’t like this” he said. “This doesn’t feel right. We’re doing a drop, right? This isn’t hallowed ground. It’s a half-constructed building that none of us have any knowledge of. This can’t be the site.”

“This is where RM said to go. This is the place the asshole wanted to do this. Said they feel safer here,” the passenger said, his voice low and rough from being woken.

The angel leaned forward between the two of them, thumbs still moving quickly across the screen. “Those guys are just scared,” he said, his voice as light and airy as his appearance. “They keep losing men because they don’t train them right. Once their boss disappeared, they can barely keep their heads above water. They think being on their turf will scare us or something. Think we’re more likely to agree in order not to cause any trouble. That we’ll be too cautious to draw any blood.” His eyes shifted to the driver, and the devil within shone through for a moment. “Not like that would stop us, right Jungkook-ah?”

“Ease the blood-shed, Jiminie,” the eldest warned. “This is just an exchange. We get in and get out. They promised a standoff, no weapons. So we should oblige the goons.”

“Then why do we have a weapon stash with us” Jungkook asked with a playful, knowing smile.

“Because we’re not stupid. Ji may have been bound by the Accords, but he was still a deceitful fuck, played by whatever rule got him to where he was. And he taught his dongsaengs to do the same. Now that he’s disappeared, they’ve gotten more chaotic. Look what happened to Hoseok last month when they jumped him in the middle of the street. They’re getting messy. We’re lucky Moonbyul and some X-ers were in the area, else Hobi and some civilians would have been worse off.”

“Come on, Hyung. Are you tell us that if Choi’s in there, you’re not gonna give him a couple more bruises to match the old ones? I’m sure he’d like a matching set,” Jimin said leaning back in his seat.

“We’re not gonna stoop to their level. We’ll show them how to act. But,” he reached into his pocket and pulled out a switch blade, and smiled, “if he is there and wants to start shit with me, I’ll be happy to give him a scar like he tried to give Hobi.”

Jimin and Jungkook looked at each other, grinning. Within their own group, they were all remarkably close, basically family. They all looked out for and took care of each other. But their Yoongi-hyung was even more protective of his younger brothers, always secretly doing things for them when they least expected it. On the outside, he was hard, quiet, and calculating. But on the side, they knew he was softy (though they dare not say that in his presence).

Yoongi slipped the knife back into his red trench coat’s inner pocket and checked his watch. It was not quite time to meet with the Royals, though they knew them better as Goons or Jackasses. But it was time to check in with their secret surveillance. He pulled out his phone and made a call. Ringing filled the silent car through the speakers. It did not take long before the ring stopped, and deep voice replaced it.

“Hyung,” it whined, “you finally call! I’ve been freezing out here since sundown, watching this damn building. I’m cold and lonely!”

“Lonely my ass, Taehyung. You’ve been texting Jimin since you got there and playing that damn mobile game since two. You do realize you’re supposed to be look out. Or do I need to find someone who actually care about our safety to replace you next time?”

“What? Hyung, no! I’ve been doing my job, I swear,” Taehyung said frantically, his voice wavering as if he was about to cry. “I can multi-task, I swear. We’ve only played a couple rounds, I promise. Please, Hyung, have mercy on me! You know I don’t like being alone. Please don’…,” his voice trailed off.

Jimin grabbed the phone from Yoongi. “Taehyung-ah, it’s okay. Yoongi-Hyung is just kidding. He’s smiling, really.”

“If that’s what you want to call it,” Jungkook laughed.

As quickly as Taehyung’s sobbing began, it just as quickly turned into a deep laugh. “I know. I can hear it in his voice. Not nice, Yoongi-shi. We really need to work on your people skills”

“Anyways, what is happening out there?” Yoongi loomed forward to look out the windshield to the building across from the meeting place. A top the highest building, he could just make out the body sitting there. Had he not known what he was looking for, or had an idea where Taehyung had positioned himself, he would have missed him. The lookout had positioned himself across from the back of the building where the Goons would be entering at, in order to stay a few steps ahead of them.

“Barely anything has happened since I got here. Once the sun went down, all the people cleared the street. It’s been quite here. The civilians are probably worried about the Goons’ new recruits causing trouble at night. Only three cars have come down this way. And you’re number three. There’s some more construction to the west, some little family shops and alleys to the east, and a couple apartment housings to the north of here. So the civilians are safe from the cross-fire, if there is any.” He stopped talking for a sec, only to let out a loud, triumphant ‘yah’. “Got you, Jimin. That’s for cheating last round. I win! You owe me some honey rice cakes.” Said cheater threw his phone on the back seat with a growl, which only made Taehyung laugh more.

Yoongi rolled his eyes and sighed deeply. “Why did I not ask Jin-Hyung to come with me?”

“Because Jin-Hyung is taking care of Hoseok-Hyung. And RM-Hyung is trading that ‘equipment’ we picked up with Solar’s crew for some more fire power,” Jimin explained, leaning forward to rest his chin on Yoongi’s shoulder. “Besides, we’re the dream team right here. Taehyung’s a great lookout with his attention to details. And he’s a strong back up in a brawl. Jungkook’s the most daring getaway driver, next to Jin-Hyung, and is the muscle. And you and I are the best shots. How can you top that?”

Yoongi shrugged Jimin off him. “Fine, but stay focused. No more games, you two.”

Taehyung chuckled deeply. “Ok, Grandpa. I promise.”

From his place atop the building, Taehyung smiled down at the SUV. After so many hours of nothing happening, their reunion had woken him up and gave him some much-needed energy. He listened as Jungkook started asking Jimin about the game, and Yoongi grumbling every now and again. He stretched his long arms up, and checked on the screens in front of him. The time of the drop was approaching but there had been no activity in the building across from him. He and Jimin had snuck into the building a few days earlier and placed some hidden cameras all over. He tapped a few buttons on his screen, switching from floor to floor, his eyes taking in every detail. No change. The building was just as empty as it was when he first got there. He checked the time in the lower corner of his screen; it was only a few minutes before the appointed time and still no sign of the enemy. If there was one thing Taehyung liked about the absent head of the rival gang was his attention to time and arriving to an appointment early. Time was everything and, without him, they lacked it

You’ve got shit timing, a voice echoed from the farthest reaches of his mind.

His fingers froze on the keyboard. Why was that making an appearance? That deep, sinister voice had been lurking on the edge of his attention ever since Hoseok was jumped. His hyung didn’t remember most of that attack, let alone who was the spearhead. He recalled being jumped from behind by some lower level recruits that he may have recognized, and that he dealt with a few of them before they pinned him on his knees. And he remembered a pair of expensive, designer shoes coming into his line of vison before a cane cracked him in the face. Moonbyul, a member of the Mama gang from the Northern side of town, had been one of the first to come to his aid. Taehyung had only met her once but remember that she was a strong and intimidating, and a fierce fighter. Joohyun and Shownu of the X-ers he knew better from all their gangs’ interactions. They had been looking for a good restaurant when they heard the commotion and sprang to help. Joohyun swore that he saw the elusive Choi there in fray, yet neither Moonbyul or Shownu were sure if he was there or not. Choi had always been like a shadow, appearing and disappearing when he pleased. No one had heard of his actions for almost four years. And, in the two-year absence his leader, Ji, no one was quite sure who had taken over as temporary leader. There had been clues that Choi could have returned to take over; he was the oldest member of the generals, had been a right hand man for Ji, and was more secretive of his doings then some of the other Generals would have been. The idea of Choi being back in Central made Taehyung anxious; old, painful memories had started to resurface. Things that Taehyung had worked through and had lapsed into a comfortable mindset when they thought that bastard had disappeared. Just the thought that Choi may be back made him wonder if that meant Ji was back too and what that may do to his members.

Taehyung didn’t have much time to dwell as movement from one of the cameras caught his attention. He clicked into the camera that was stationed on the opposite side of the construction site, where the back-loading docks were to see three black Royces with their lights off came to a stop. Here we go, he thought as pulled a folded bandana from his jacket and slipped it up under his dyed gray locks. Zooming in, he saw a few Royal members that he recognized from past fights. Some were boxers and a few MMA fighters, but they were slower than his trim and light members. The rest looked new, young and jittery. Maybe just a training run, Taehyung thought. It wouldn’t be out of place. RM and Jin had taken him on drops and exchanges when he first joined. Altogether, there were twelve Royal members. That alone made Taehyung nervous; there were too many factors playing out in his head. He knew that between himself, Jimin, Jungkook, and Yoongi, they could deal with them if they decided to do something stupid. One member Taehyung, Chen, knew well enough from their encounters was a high-ranking member and was normally the leader of the squad. He was slightly decent about following the Accords. Maybe this will go fine.

That was, until he watched Chen go to the third Rolls Royce and opened the back door.

The first thing that came into view was a pair of expensive, silver dress shoes. Then a matching ornate cane. Taehyung could feel his breath catching in his throat. Out of the car, dressed in a light colored three-piece suit with a white fur coat draped over his broad shoulders, stepped Choi. His gloved hand ran through his quaffed frosted hair as he gave instructions to his minions. The little smirk that appeared through the computer screen was all it took for Taehyung’s mind to instantly transport him back to the worst night of his entire life. He could feel those gloved hands on his neck and shoulder while Choi’s companion laughed like a crazed child behind him. That sadistic smile was one of the last things he remembered seeing before he was shoved deep into the freezing darkness.

Here’s your punishment for your disrespect. Do me a favor and don’t die too quick. My brother wants his turn to play with you. Now, deep breath, Choi breathed in his ear.

His heart started to beat harder and panic began to grip hold of him. He didn’t want to think about it, not now. He thought he was past all this. But, with the chances of seeing the general who tormented him, only made his breath check in his throat. Get a grip, he mentally screamed, get over it. Don’t let him win! But all he could focus of was the wet, chill creeping up from his toes, his lungs restricting, the muted sounds in his ears…He gripped his phone like a life-line, running through what his team taught him when he got like this. Taehyung closed his eyes and tried to count. He tried to focus on a happier memory, but the onslaught of panic surged onward. He tried to force himself to take an unsteady breath, shaking his dyed gray locks from his sweaty face. Focus, breath. He kept repeating it. But his lungs felt like they were in a vice, like they were filling up with ice cold fear. There were hands gripping him, dragging him deeper into the dark memory. And he felt like he was swimming against a current. It wasn’t until Jimin’s voice seemed to cut through the rushing in his ears that he felt he had a lifeline. Where his silence may not have seemed like anything to the others at that moment, Jimin seemed to sense the change, even without seeing him. Taehyung clung to his best friend’s words and took a shaky breath into his burning lungs. Then, another and another. Just like he did when this same nightmare plagued him for an entire year. And as quickly as it came on, the dark hands pulled back into the deepest part of his memory.

Jimin called out to him again as his eyes opened, and Jungkook’s followed asking if everything was alright. Tae let his eyes fall on his computer screen to ground himself back into his reality. Everything is fine. Focus on the screens. There were only two men by the cars now, blocking the loading dock from any surprise attack. Where did the others go? Tapping quickly on the keyboard, he cycled through the different cameras. The ground floor was only occupied by the large support beams and boxes of different building material. The second floor had empty shells for stores. The third and fourth were much of the same, with only scaffolding, tools, and more large boxes. The fifth floor was were the designer had wanted to put an event hall based on the layout; wide open with decorative columns lining the middle of the space, windows that looked out to the distant skyline of the city, and a marble floor that hadn’t been finished yet. Like the other floors, metal scaffolding and work tables littered the area, and unpacked crates and such were dispersed. At the edge of the camera Taehyung had placed by the entrance, he finally spotted Choi and the rest of the goons. As his eyes darted about the screen, taking in every detail he needed, he sat a bit straighter and shifted from the playful Tae into a different being. Now in the position of lookout and back gunner was V.

“Tae, you ok up there? You’re too quiet. I think Jimin’s about to scale this building to check on you,” Yoongi’s voice rang through the phone, behind it was Jimin’s quite voice asking the same.

“Suga-Hyung,” V voice was much deeper and serious than Taehyung’s, signaling to the car that something was up, “They’re here. Three cars at the back-loading dock. Two men stayed with the cars. There are thirteen in total.”

“That’s more than normal for a drop like this,” Jungkook wearily said.

“Hyung,” V continued, “Choi is with them.”

From his place in the car, Yoongi nodded silently. That was all the info he needed to know that this wouldn’t be a normal interaction like they had hoped. The confirmation that Choi was, indeed, back in the picture meant that the game was about to be much more dangerous. He looked across to his younger friends, knowing from the look on their faces that they understood that too.

“Where are they V-shi?”

“Choi and the others are in the fifth-floor hall like they said. Their situated in the back of the room. Take the elevator on the ground floor and it’ll open into the space. There’s enough room to keep some distance between you guys and there are enough obstacles, in case. I can’t see from this angle if they’re true to their word about the weapons but there’s a couple boxes I didn’t see when I set up.”

“Good job, V,” Yoongi said. “Once we get into the building, make your way down and to the back. Pay the two lookouts a visit. Then, keep low in case we need you. I’ll have the in-ear if something comes up. Jimin, you’ll stay with me. Jungkook, you stay a little behind with the package. Everyone just follow my lead and stay alert. Let them think we’re as dumb as Choi likes to think of us. Got it?”

Yoongi had slid into Suga, the mafia persona he had adapted over the years. Suga was calculative, alert, intimidating to those who didn’t know him, and able to set the world on fire with a turn of phrase. He straightened his red coat and flipped up the hood to block against the cold as he pushed open the door. Jungkook let out a breath, nervous energy still rampant but his drive to succeed against all odd weighted it out. He mumbled a ‘goodbye’ to Taehyung and turned off the car, shoving the keys into his black hoodie’s pocket. He let his gaze wander in the rearview to see Jimin had already slid his rose-tinted glasses he had grabbed before leaving their hideout onto his face and ran his finger through his blonde hair. A bit of his bangs slipped back across one of his eyes. And with that simple gesture, the angelic, mischievous persona had been replaced with a devilish powerhouse one who wouldn’t stop until the job is done. The differences between normal Jimin to gang member Jimin would make anyone wonder if two different people. It still creeped Jungkook out when his hyung’s happy mask would slip when they got into a disagreement. Said hyung noticed Jungkook staring, and those dark eyes melted a bit when the younger’s doe eyes quickly looked away. He smiled a bit and reached for the black bucket hat that Jungkook had thrown into the back seat when they left.

“Don’t look so worried. We’ll be good,” Jimin said, placing the hat over Jungkook’s long dark hair. The maknae wasn’t entirely sure if Jimin meant that the meeting would well or if that they’d behave. Honestly, he didn’t think it’d matter.

Suga leaned his head back into the car. “Jimin, why don’t you let our guest out? I’m sure they didn’t appreciate all those pot holes JK decided to hit.”

JK gave a small smirk as the wickedly, mischievous glint reappeared in Jimin’s eyes. He slid from the back seat and made his way around to the truck. He gave the metal a good kick before opening the hatch, the person inside letting out a surprised yelp as they were yanked out and down to the cold asphalt. The rat was blindfolded, gagged, and bound. He had tried to infiltrate one of their warehouses. He was young and inexperienced, trying to blend in with the new batch of recruits. And he almost went unnoticed, had they not had the best surveillance known to any gang in all of Central. Jimin almost felt sorry for him. Lord knows, he was treated better with them than his own group. But that wasn’t enough for Jimin not to scare him a bit more with a couple good shoves and breathy threats as they made their way through the crisp early morning air towards the uncertainty that lay inside the building.

With each step towards the towering building, no longer were the three the friendly band of brothers who had spent the two hours driving around, laughing, talking, and singing obnoxiously loud to the radio. With each step, they were the most feared gang to walk the streets of Central since the Royals were in their prime. They were the most powerful group to rise from nothing to the greatest empires in the history of Central.

They were Bangtan.

#bts fic #bts imagines #bts mafia au #bts mafia fic #yoongi x reader #bangta boys #ot7 x reader #min yoongi #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungguk #bangtan fanfic

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captainscanadian · 3 years

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Love Me Blue | Bucky Barnes x Reader (Rasleela)

MY MASTERLIST

Series Masterlist

Summary: Perhaps Bucky Barnes is the Krishna to your Radha.

Word Count: 3800+

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Tamilian!Hindu!Reader, Sam Wilson

Warnings: References to Hinduism, PTSD, Endgame References.

A/N: This is my entry for @bucky-smiles‘s 3K Diversity Writing Challenge! My prompt was to write a fic with a Hindu reader. I decided to write this fic with a Tamilian reader because I am Tamilian. I was born in Sri Lanka and my mother’s side of the family are Hindu. Although I consider myself an agnostic theist, I do enjoy reading the epics of Mahabharata and Ramayana. Pic from Pinterest! <3 Divider by @whimsicalrogers!

The more Bucky Barnes read about Hinduism, the more intrigued he became about how a highly skilled former SHIELD agent had retained her faith even after living through the literal end of the world. After Thanos and the Infinity War, and losing Tony and Natasha, it came as a surprise to him that you still continued to uphold the religious traditions that you were raised with. You could have easily walked away from them, but it was the fact that you chose not to do so that made Bucky realize how strong you were.

From maintaining a strict vegetarian diet to starting your day with the morning chants, the way your daily life was filled with your faith… it was refreshing to see, especially during a time when people were not always that religious. Nowadays when he awoke at dawn, he would hear the usual chants of the Sri Venkateswara Suprabhatam being recited next door, and he could not deny that it gave him the same kind of comfort as it did to you.

Whenever the rest of the team were gone on missions, he often joined you in your living quarters for breakfast, and it was safe to say that he had taken a liking to the hearty South Indian vegetarian meal that he could often expect from you. In a way, he often looked forward to the days when the two of you were alone at the compound. Usually, that included cooking together and talking about your life in India and his time in Wakanda. Other times, you found yourself working out together; you were even sparring partners.

It was no secret that the two of you had been spending quite a lot of time together, and the Avengers were not completely oblivious to the sparks that were flying between you and the super soldier every time you were in the same room. As much as you hated to admit it to yourself, when Wanda pressed on during one of your many girls’ nights, you confessed that you did feel something for Bucky. You had brushed it off as your inner history nerd being fascinated by a man who fought in the Second World War, but you knew better than that. Wanda knew as well; she could read minds, after all.

Sam had also noticed that Bucky had started to come out of his shell ever since you had arrived at the compound, and he could never pass up an opportunity to tease him about it. “So, you’ve been in a good mood lately…” He pointed out to his friend during one workout session.

Bucky knew where Sam was getting at, but a part of him refused to give him the satisfaction of being right. “It must be the extra sleep I’ve been getting.” He admitted, genuinely.

It was partially true, as his sleep has improved a lot since he had first moved into the compound. Between working together with the compound’s newly hired in-house therapist and spending time with you, it seemed that his nerves had finally calmed down.

“Does Y/N have anything to do with that?” He asked, batting his eyelashes in a rather teasing manner.

This caused the supersoldier to become flushed, and he quickly looked away to hide the sheepish grin on his lips. “Possibly.” He could not lie about how your arrival at the compound had certainly lifted his spirits; in a world where he had assumed that he was on his own, you had been the one to show him that he wasn’t alone and he did not want to be alone again.

Sam knew damn well that you and Bucky were one and the same. Both of you had faced tremendous loss, and had given up on fighting in hopes of finding peace, only to be pulled back into the fight again. He could not deny that the two of you would make a good pair, as different as you were.

When he had asked Bucky if he had any intentions to ask you out, that was when Bucky had even considered asking you out. Not that he worried that you would reject him; he was just unsure that it was the right time. Despite defeating Thanos, the world was still in shock from the blip and it seemed unfair of him that he wanted to move on from that. But he knew better than to let these anxieties get the worst of him. He had seen enough war and suffering; it was time for him to put his happiness before all.

Needless to say, you made him very happy.

He had told Sam of his plan on asking you out, but he wanted to plan the most perfect date for the two of you. He wanted to ask you out when he knew what your first date would be, and so he hoped to find out more about what you wanted when it came to your love life.

It was during one of your many late night chats by the lake when you had found yourself staring up at the starlit sky, your peacock print scarf wrapped over your shoulders as you pulled your knees up to your chest.

Bucky had been pacing back and forth across the gazebo, trying to find the right words to say even though he did not want to be direct. “Hey Y/N, can I ask you something?”

The sound of his voice snapped you out of your thoughts, and you turned over to face him. “If it’s about the Cold War, I can’t answer that.”

This made him chuckle softly, and certainly put his nerves at ease. “Oh? And here I thought that you knew your history.” He teased, as always.

Laughing softly, you stood up from your seat on the bench and walked up to him. “I do know my history, but I’ve got my mind on the present at the moment.” You admitted, honestly.

Who were you kidding? When you first met this man, you did have your mind on history. You were fascinated by the Howling Commando who fought alongside Captain America; he was merely a historical figure to you.

But now in the present, you could not deny that he was much more than that. He was a friend, a companion, someone you had become quite fond of. You did not know how to describe it; but you could not deny that you saw a glimpse of Lord Krishna in his eyes. He sure had the charm, and the mystery, but your own fear of loss had held you back from acting on what you felt for him.

“Speaking of the moment, that brings me back to my question.” He rolled his eyes at you rather playfully. “What’s Rasleela?”

Your eyes grew wide at his question. “Rasleela?”

“I looked up one of the paintings in your apartment.” He responded with a shrug.

Ever since he had spent that night at your apartment, Bucky had been frequently asking you questions about the various paintings and idols of Lord Krishna that you had kept in your living quarters. He had explained that his fascination with your religion had stemmed from the fact that he had lived in Wakanda and had experienced their culture as well; and it had caused him to become curious of all of the traditions that you followed.

Of course, you had no problem sharing with him the context behind the paintings around your home. The story of Radha and Krishna was always close to your heart, and you certainly appreciated being able to share them with someone else. It was no secret that sharing these love stories with Bucky had only contributed to your feelings towards him, but you did not want to get ahead of yourself like that. You were technically his boss, after all.

“Rasleela… well, the literal meaning of it is ‘the dance of divine love’ but that’s quite a mouthful.” You admitted, laughing softly. “The painting I have in my apartment shows Lord Krishna and Radha dancing under the stars, doesn’t it? My grandmother told me that it happens in one night, when Lord Krishna hides in the forest and plays his flute. All the girls in his village get so mesmerized by it… they follow the music into the forest and they go searching for him. When they find him, they dance all night. It’s a celebration of love, really… the dancing.”

“But why are there so many women who danced with him?” He asked. “Why is he dancing with all of them when Radha was the one he loved?”

“Believe it or not, he was quite the playboy.” You replied, your lips curling into a smirk as you crossed your arms against your chest. “He loved Radha the most, but every girl in the village still loved him.”

“So, you have a thing for playboys, huh?”

“I have a thing for Lord Krishna.” You replied in a rather teasing manner. “I mean, I’m devoted to Lord Krishna. But when it comes to my love life… I want someone to love me like Lord Krishna loved Radha.”

As messed up as the world was, this wish of yours had never changed. Ever since you were a little girl in South India listening to your grandmother’s stories, you fell in love with Lord Krishna and the pure love that he held for Radha. This kind of love was unconditional, and undying.

“Would you ever want to have your own Rasleela, Y/N?” Bucky asked you, rather curiously.

“What?”

“Dance all night, under the stars, celebrate love… would you ever want to be a part of something like that?” He asked.

You thought for a moment, wondering if you could ever be a part of something so magical. “I mean, I doubt that I would ever experience something so magical. But if I found someone to be my Krishna, I guess I won’t be opposed to it.” And you meant that.

Frankly, he knew exactly what you meant too.

When you woke up the next morning, it was way past dawn. You had turned on the usual morning chants on your phone, and hooked it up to the speakers. While the chants were playing in the background, you made your way over to the bathroom to clean yourself up and get ready for your prayers. But when you made your way over towards your shrine, you had noticed that the footprints that you had painted from your front door were no longer there.

You hadn’t taken them off, so it made you wonder who would have managed to scrape all of that paint off of the tiles. But when you made your way over to the front door and opened it, you were greeted by a surprise.

It was a box, rectangular and tied with a giant red bow. You looked around the hallway before picking it up, wondering who would have left this as you closed the door behind you. As curious as you were about what was in that box, you did not open it right away. You had to head to work, since Rhodey and Wanda had just returned from a mission.

When you arrived to make yourself some breakfast, the dining area had been rather empty. Most of the team had eaten and left, but the table had been set for one; it had a plate that was covered with a lid and a sticky note with your name on it.

“Well, this morning has been full of surprises, hasn’t it?” You said to yourself as you sat down on the table and removed the lid, seeing a freshly prepared dosa and onion chutney on the plate. “It sure has…”

At that moment, you knew damn well who was responsible for the neatly wrapped box at your door and the South Indian breakfast surprise; other than yourself, there was only one other person here at the compound who knew how to make South Indian food, and he had been acting a little suspicious lately.

You had eaten your breakfast in quiet, constantly paying attention to your surroundings in hopes that Bucky would return to the dining area to ensure that you were eating the meal he had left behind for you. But to your disappointment, he did not show. As a matter of fact, the last time you saw him had been when you had returned to your living quarters following your nightly chat by the lake.

The rest of the day went by as you were swarmed with mission reports and briefings, and the whole time Bucky was nowhere to be found. Not that he had to be a part of them, as he hadn’t been taking part in missions just yet. But it was safe to say that you could not go this long without seeing him.

Of course, you could have asked your team if they had seen Bucky anywhere. If he wasn’t at the compound, you knew that he would have at least told someone where he went. Truth be told, your pride had just gotten in the way of you just blatantly admitting to someone that you were looking for him. You could just picture the look on Sam’s eyes when you asked him where Bucky was.

“Took you long enough.” Sam muttered when you entered his living quarters. “I’ve been expecting you all morning, Y/N.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked, crossing your arms as you looked over at him in utter confusion.

“You’re looking for the cyborg, aren’t ya?”

You nodded. “Yeah, I am. I haven’t seen him all day, and he left breakfast for me. I figured that I would ask you where I could find him. Is he okay?”

“He’s fine.” He replied, giving you a reassuring smile. “He’s just hiding from you.”

“Then where is he?” You asked, wondering what was going on with the supersoldier. “What? Why?”

“He left on his Harley at sunrise while I was going on my run. He didn’t tell me where he was headed, just that he needed to stay hidden until nightfall and that you would know where to find him.” He replied with a shrug. “Something about ‘following the music’ or whatever. I had no idea what he meant by that.”

Your cheeks flushed at his words before you shook your head. “God, I should have known that he was up to something when he asked me what he did last night.” You admitted, sighing.

“What did he ask you?”

“Nothing you should know about.” You replied with a wink. “Did he say anything else, by the way?”

“Just that you would know where he is… and that you should just ‘follow the music’ if you didn’t know. Don’t get me wrong, I have no idea what that means. But if you want, I can help you track him down.” He offered. “Honestly. I don’t know what goes on in that cyborg brain of his.”

You wanted to consider Sam’s offer, but you knew that it was best not to. Clearly, Bucky had known that you would find him; it even seemed that he wanted you to. As much as you want to let Sam get involved, and you understood his good heart for offering, you wanted this to be a lot more personal. Besides, Agent Y/L/N was not someone who would back away from a challenge.

“It’s fine, Sam.” You shrugged him off. “If he wants me to go on a wild goose chase, then I guess that’s what I’ll do. It’s not like I have a team of superheroes to oversee or anything like that.”

The Falcon chuckled at that. “I’ve always known that something was up with the two of you.” He admitted, genuinely. Having watched you at your lowest, he wanted nothing more than for you to find happiness, especially with someone like Bucky. “You like him, don’t you?”

You nodded. “Yeah, I do.” You confessed, feeling your cheeks heat up once again. “I mean, I don’t think I know how to keep that a secret. We have been spending a lot of time together lately, and I’m sure people are starting to notice.”

Not that you cared about what anyone might think. Being the supervising officer to the Avengers did not mean that you had to stray away from meeting your personal needs. You had all survived an apocalypse; the least you could do is be happy.

“I know he likes you too, Y/N. He can’t seem to shut up about you, and I hope that everything works out for you.” He grinned as he pulled you into an embrace. “You deserve it.”

You gave him a nod as you hugged him back. “Thanks, Sam. I know that… I’ve been hard on myself ever since… what happened. But I know now that Bucky’s not the bad guy in my story. He never was, and maybe… maybe it won’t be so bad. Maybe the bad things in my life are over.”

Sam nodded understandingly, still not letting go of the hug. “Have you told him yet?” He asked, certainly worried about his two close friends.

You shook your head. “No, I haven’t told him. I didn’t know how to. How am I supposed to tell him that I misunderstood him? Or that there was a time when I wanted nothing more than to kill him?”

Looking back at that time only broke your heart, and your eyes glazed over. You knew that Bucky would never judge you if he ever found out about your past, but you could not get yourself to share this with him. You did not know how to.

“You know that wasn’t your fault, Y/N.” He reminded you. “Just like it wasn’t his fault either.”

You nodded. “Yeah, I know that now. But I can’t help but feel guilty sometimes. Bucky’s one of the sweetest, kindest, and gentlest people I’ve ever met. I just feel awful about believing what everyone was saying about him. I should have known better. I should have believed Steve.”

Pulling back from the hug, Sam quickly wiped away your tears. “Y/N, come on… there’s no point in feeling shitty about the past. Bucky likes you. You like Bucky. Just focus on the present for now, okay? You and I both know that Bucky’s the last person who would judge you for what happened, and if he found out about what you’ve been through, I know for a fact that it wouldn’t change anything. You have nothing to worry about, okay?”

“Okay.” You sighed, knowing that he was right. “I should probably go and find him.”

“Yeah, you do that.” He agreed, chuckling softly before leaning over to kiss your forehead. “Be happy, Y/N.”

“Thanks, Sam.”

When you exited Sam’s living quarters, you headed back to your own. Remembering that the footprints in your living room had been removed, you wondered if it could be Bucky’s doing. You and Bucky had been talking well into the late hours of the night before you decided to head back to your living quarters, and he had walked you back to yours the whole way. You could not remember if Bucky had come inside with you, but he certainly could have come in with you and helped you into bed before he had scraped the footprints off.

But if so, why would he do that?

What did Bucky mean when he had told Sam that you would know where he was? What did he mean by ‘follow the music’? Why did he ask you about Rasleela last night?

You suddenly remembered the box that you had found at your doorstep that morning, and you rushed over to open it. Inside was a dark blue lace dress that was straight out of the 1940s, and a handwritten note from Bucky.

If you would let me be the Krishna to your Radha, I’ll show you how we did ‘Rasleela’ back in my day. -Bucky

Reading the note only made your cheeks heat up once again. You had been expecting him to pull something like this on you since the moment he had even asked you about the meaning of Rasleela in the first place. But you hadn’t expected him to be this fast.

It did not take you long to figure out where he was. After all, Sam had mentioned that Bucky had left the compound pretty early. With his clue to ‘follow the music’ and the message he had left on that note, it was all pretty clear to you.

Being a history major, you had always been fond of how much New York City had changed since the days of the Great Depression. When you had first met Steve Rogers and taken him on a tour around Manhattan, he had mentioned to you of how different it had been back in the day.

You had been the first one to find out about how Peggy had asked him to meet her at the Stork Club for their date, which Steve hadn’t been able to make. Seventy years later, you had offered to take him to the place where the Stork Club used to be.

It was a pocket park now, with the club being demolished and replaced with an artificial waterfall and several benches. You and Steve had sat there for hours, and he had shared with you all the stories about how Bucky would drag him out there to go dancing with some girls he met.

What a playboy he must have been back then?

Before you knew it, you had slipped into the dress that Bucky had given you and were heading towards Paley Park in hopes that you could find him there. As it was a four hour drive from the compound to the heart of Manhattan, you found yourself bringing out one of your favourite toys.

A present from your former mentor and SHIELD Supervising Officer Agent Phil Coulson, Lola was a cherry red 1962 Chevrolet Corvette that was upgraded with some of Howard Stark’s, and then Tony Stark’s technologies. Steve used to tell you that Howard had once promised to create flying cars at one of the Stark Expos, and Lola was the closest thing that came to that; in flight mode, the wheels folded down and there was a hover-capable propulsion system that replaced them.

Knowing of Bucky’s interest in flying cars through Steve, you could only hope that he would be excited to see you arriving in Lola when you pulled up to Paley Park. Frankly, the four hour drive to the city was now cut short, thanks to Lola. Oh how you loved Phil for letting you take his car after him. Even though you were only using her for leisurely purposes, Lola made you feel some kind of power. After all, if you could drive a flying car, you could pretty much do anything else in the world.

#3kdiversity #aj writes #love me blue #rasleela #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x desi!reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff #marvel x reader #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes series #desi au

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jaywritessmut · 4 years

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Weiß Chapter II- Calm Before the Storm

*Weiß- White in German

Florian Munteanu x black female reader (All my fics are with black women in mind!)

Warnings: mentions of death & drug use, criminal undertakings & unprotected sex (wrap it up folks!) Authors note: I finally found time to get this chapter up and I’ll be back to posting this story regularly. I’m introducing new characters in the next few chapters so keep posted. Message me if you want to be added to the tag list! Word Count: 3.4K

Weeks had gone by since her tryst with Florian, but Snow made no effort to discuss it. As far as she was concerned, it was a one time thing, just two people relieving stress and pent up emotions. She knew Flo was the non-committal type so his feelings couldn’t hurt all that much. And she herself was no stranger to casual sex. To Snow, forgetting it even happened was the best approach. Having a fling with her new enforcer wasn’t a smart business move and right now she needed to be very strategic with her next choices.

Klaus’s death was wrapped up in so much uncertainty and she struggled to make sense of it. Flo’s theory was that the Russians killed him for seeking a new supplier. Apparently, Klaus had scheduled some meetings with people he suspected of being in the game themselves. But that just didn’t make sense to her. The Russian syndicate had been a reliable supplier for quite some time. Consistent quality, good price. What could make Klaus do something so stupid as to go against them? She played out different scenarios in her head but none of them helped her connect the dots. What she wouldn’t give to sit with her old friend and pick his brain for a bit. He was her closest friend and she began to realize how much of a mystery he was to her.

She’d been spending a lot more time at the club in the recent weeks. Between Florian giving her an overview of the enterprise and her desire to keep an eye on the business numbers, she had very little need to be elsewhere. And thankfully things at the club were phenomenal. Klaus had done an excellent job at hiring skilled staff that could do their job and securing talented entertainment to keep the guest list filled up. She was pleased to see that they were booked for DJ's and musicians for the next 6 months. And their scout, Jonas, was searching to fill the calendar for the rest of the year. At least she didn’t have to worry about her legitimate business.

Today though, Florian was going to teach her how to look over the count. Every week, the “foot soldiers” came and dropped off their take from the product they sold. Florian and Klaus would then verify it and make sure they were consistent with what they had been given. The dealers were then told to wait for pickup details so they could get new product to sell. As Florian recounted all the steps, her mind swirled, overwhelmed with her situation.

“I’m a fucking drug dealer” she lamented, burying her face in her hands.

“Technically you’re a drug lord” Florian responded, causing her head to jerk back in surprise.

“What difference does it make? I’m still involved!”

“Yeah, but you’re anonymous. The people who buy our product won’t ever see your face. They don’t even know you exist. Du bist ein geist”

“Why is that strangely comforting?”

“Because it’s true. You’re protected. None of our people are ever going to rat on you. If you go down, this whole thing goes down and they lose the good money they make. Keeping you hidden, keeps their pockets happy”

“So why should I even be meeting with the Russians? Wouldn’t showing my face to them jeopardize all that?” A few days after their hookup, Florian received a call from Mikhail, the leader of the Russian enterprise they did business with. He told them that there was a new leader and they were all too happy to schedule a meeting. Snow wondered what their reaction would be once they came face to face with her.

“That’s different”. She stared at him expectantly, waiting for him to continue.

“So think of it this way. A dealer is a little fish. He gets picked up, the police only want to use him to find who the bigger fish is, the boss. And that’s you. Then they use you to find the even bigger fish, your suppliers”

“The Russians”

“Genau. So now it’s in both of your best interest to keep each other hidden. If he gets caught, he has nothing to really bargain with. He still cares about his rep so he won’t throw you under the bus which means you walk away untouched. But if you get caught,”

“Then I can leverage knowing who he is”

“And now you understand. You’re probably the most protected person in this scenario. So relax Schnee”

She rolled her eyes at his nickname for her. It was starting to grow on her but she’d never tell him that. And to her surprise, she felt comforted by his breakdown of things. She knew the risks of being involved and it was something that weighed on her mind as she became more hands on.

Late afternoon rolled in and it was time to prepare for her first meeting with the crew. Florian took her into Klaus office and gave her a quick walkthrough of what she needed. The money counter, Klaus’ iPad and the safe where the cash was placed. She took in the photos and assorted knick knacks he decorated the room with. A framed photo of the two of them on his desk made her feel a sharp pang of loss. In this room, his presence was heavily felt. So she made a mental note to call a decorator to renovate the space.

One by one, her crew members trickled into the large room. She recognized some faces from the club which worried her. If they did get caught, how easy would it be for police to connect them to the club or her? And even though Flo was sure they’d keep quiet, how much could she really trust them? Sensing her distress, he leaned over and whispered in her ear.

“Relax. These are all Klaus’ people. He trusted them”

She pushed past the tingling feeling that came over her as his warm breath tickled the sensitive spot beneath her ear. A smug grin came across his face.

“Focus mädchen” he playfully warned.

She steeled herself and prepared for the remaining crew members to come and introduce themselves. But it was an all too familiar face that sparked fear and then rage into her heart.

“Emmeline, what the fuck!?”

“Hey Lise”. Her sister nervously bit her lip, waiting for Snow to say more.

Her baby sister, Emmeline stood in front of her, a pink duffle bag gripped tightly in her hands. She felt absolute betrayal at the fact Klaus had approved of this without telling her.

“No. Absolutely not”

“Snow” Florian warned.

“You knew about this?!” Her head turned to him with eyes full of contempt. It was one thing that her best friend and associate kept silent on this, but Flo too? How was she supposed to trust him if he kept something this big from her?

“She’s our best dealer. She brings all the socialites to the club and Klaus thought it be good for business”

“She’s my baby sister!”

“She’s right here! Look Lise, don’t be mad. I begged Klaus to give me a shot. And besides, it’s not like I work on the streets. I just bring my rich friends to the club”

“So why are you here now?”

“Well, occasionally I supply parties. And I sometimes sell to the women at the day spas. You’d be surprised how popular coke is to those trophy wives”

Snow put her head in her hands and took deep breaths to calm herself. This whole situation was fucked up. It was bad enough that she was running the business, and now her sister was in on it too? Honestly, what the fuck was Klaus thinking?

Resigned to her fate, Snow sat up and wore a blank expression to conceal the swirl of emotions running through her.

“We’ll talk about this later” Her clipped tone let Florian and her sister know that this conversation was far from over.

When the rest of the crew showed up, they lined up against the wall across from Klaus desk. One by one, Florian called them up to turn in their take. He counted the bills by hand then with an automated machine before inputting the numbers into the iPad he had shown her. After inputting the info, he listened attentively as they gave a run through of the territory they covered. And apparently things were going well, with the exception of Alexanderplatz.

“It’s nothing, but the car keeps rolling through our territory” Luka, one of the faces she recognized earlier, had finished telling them about some suspicious activities on one of the streets he serviced.

“Cops?” Florian probed.

“Nein. They’re too obvious. Cops hide. These guys pull up across the street and make eye contact. They want us to know they’re there.”

“When did this start?” Snow inquired.

Luka paused in thought before realization came over him.

“Come to think of it, the night that Klaus was killed. Emil called to tell me some car had parked across the street. He thought it was the police so he closed up early. But then later on he said he thought the driver looked like that Dmitry guy that comes by the club sometimes”

Snow and Florian shared a knowing look. Dmitry was the younger brother of Mikhail and his business partner. The fact that he was purposely snooping on their crew was suspicious enough. Could the Russians really have been behind Klaus’ death?

“Thank you for telling us. Let us know the next time they pull up.”

“You got it Bossin”. An exciting jolt ran through her at hearing her new title. She liked it way more than Florian’s name for her.

The rest of the crew had uneventful reports to share when handing in their take. She was grateful that there weren’t more issues to worry about. But to her dismay, Emmeline’s count was the highest by far. Just her luck.

“You gotta let me know when more product comes in ASAP. I’ve got a line of clients wanting to stock up for a major party next week”

“We’ll have to discuss that before anything is decided” Snow watched as her sister narrowed her eyes in contempt. She knew this wasn’t going to be an easy battle.

“Lise, you’ve got to be shitting me. Look at my count, I’m bringing in serious profit!”

“I can see that. But I’m in charge now and I reserve the right to make changes to my crew and who I allow to represent the business. I’ll discuss it with Florian and let you know”

“You’re really going to be a bitch about this?”

Emmeline’s mouth had always been her problem. She was quick to pop off without thinking things through. Most of the time, Snow ignored her. But today, her attitude set her off and caused her once controlled anger to spike.

“Everybody out, NOW!” Snow’s voice took on a commanding tone that made everyone stand at attention. Even Florian found himself quickly rising from his seat and leaving the office. He flashed Emmeline a sympathetic glance before closing the door behind himself.

Turning to her sister, Snow tried her best to control her tone.

“Look I’m not sure what Klaus was thinking by letting you in on this. But this little arrangement stops now”

There were too many variables to consider and she was by no means comfortable with putting her sister at risk.

“God you’re impossible. You can’t ever let me have anything for myself”

“Girl cut the crap. I’m your biggest supporter and always have been. I have your back with anything you pursue but not this Em. This is way too dangerous”

“So you can be a drug lord, but I can't?” she countered.

“Grow the fuck up Emmeline. My involvement is drastically different from yours and you know it”

“Bullshit! You pretend to care about me when really you just don’t want to share the spotlight. You want all this for yourself. Can’t have your baby sister be doing just as good as you, huh?”

To her detriment, Emmeline would go out of her way to prove that she was just as good, if not better than her older sister. Yet Snow never indulged her. She’d always felt that their “rivalry” was one sided.

“Em, this is about your safety. What I’m doing is so unbelievably dangerous. I just lost my best friend. I can’t lose you too”

Her sister folded her arms across her chest and let out a frustrated sigh.

“I get it Lise, I do. But I’m an adult. I’m old enough to make my own choices and decide what’s risky. I have my own system and people I vet before doing business with them. I'm good at this Lise, let me show you. Besides, nobody here has your back like I do. I’ll be damned if I leave you to do this without people in your corner”

“I’ve got Flo. He’s been helping me the past few weeks”

“Oh I’m sure you do,” she suggested.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Just that Tamir told me he saw you leave the club with Flo a few weeks ago. He came back the next morning in his clothes from the night before. You wouldn’t know anything about that would you?” she teased.

“Nope. Not a thing. Let’s just get back to business” she urged as she made her way to the door. She was not having that conversation today.

“So does that mean I can stay on?” she bounced in excitement waiting for her sister’s response.

“For now. But I mean it Em. One hint of you being in danger and I pull you out”

Squealing with excitement, Emmeline rushed forward and pulled Snow in a tight hug

“Thank you Lise! I promise I’ll be safe, just watch, you’ll never have to worry about me”

“You’re my baby sister. I’m always going to worry” She held her tightly, wondering if she was making a mistake.

A knock on the door interrupted their moment as Florian stuck his head in the door frame.

“Y’all good?”

“Yes Florian, we’re good”

“Great, can we wrap up things then? We still have to set up the club for tonight”

The club was hosting a memorial event in Klaus’ honor. There were planned speeches from friends and business associates before a night of dancing and letting loose. It seemed fitting for a man who was determined to have a good time where he went.

After inputting final numbers into the iPad and securing the cash, Florian stood up behind the desk.

“I know the past few weeks have been tough with Klaus being gone. We all miss him and want to find who’s responsible for his death. I want to thank you all for keeping it together and running things smoothly. Just keep up the good work and keep an eye out for anything funny going on. We’re a family and we have each other's backs, okay?”

He turned to Snow expectantly.

“Bossin, want to add anything?”

It caught her by surprise. She hadn’t thought of preparing anything to say. She really was just there to watch and learn. But if she was going to step up and run things, now was the time to make her presence known. She stood up and pushed past the nerves that overcame her and spoke.

“Some of you may know me as the owner of the club, but I’ve always been the head of the enterprise. I simply trusted Klaus to be the mastermind that kept things going and I can see now I was right. You’re all doing very well for yourselves, the numbers don’t lie. The system he created is incredible”

The group before her hummed in agreeance.

“With Klaus gone, I’ll be taking a more active role. Florian is getting me accustomed to things but I know I’ll be very well versed in how things work. So make no mistake, I am the one calling the shots. You all answer to me. You give me respect and loyalty, I reward you. And if you cross me? Let’s just say you don’t want to find out what will happen. So let’s keep things on a positive note and keep working as a team, We’re in this together and if one of us fucks up, it puts us all at risk. Alles klar?”

Assorted affirmations echoed through the room and that familiar jolt ran through her again. Being in charge did things to her and she was half tempted to kick everyone out and fuck Flo on the desk. But she forced the idea from her mind.

That’s what I get for fucking my enforcer she thought to herself.

Florian dismissed the team after telling them to keep an eye out for the pick up details. Emmeline shot her sister a knowing look as she sauntered out the room and closed the door behind her.

The vibe in the room changed as soon as the door closed. She could feel the tension hanging heavily in the air. She watched as Flo walked over to the safe, securing the iPad with the cash counted earlier. The sight of his back muscles flexing in the white Henley tee he wore brought flashbacks of her nails digging into the taut flesh just weeks ago.

Flo turned to face her, taking in her flushed appearance and ragged breathing. A look of realization came across his face as he walked over to her.

“Don’t tell me you get off on being in charge, huh?”

He sauntered over to her, lightly tracing his lower lip with his tongue. She imagined him running it over the sensitive flesh between her thighs.

“That’s funny, I could’ve sworn you liked it when someone else took the reigns”

He kept pursuing her until she found herself pushed up against the large oak desk. Florian reached forward and gently lifted her on the desk before slowly hitching up the maxi skirt she wore. A whimper broke through her throat at the feel of his calloused hands on her thighs.

“So tell me Schnee? Who’s in charge now? Ich oder du?”

He pulled her in, hungrily claiming her mouth with an intense need for more. His hands slipped further up her skirt relishing in the feel of her warm, smooth skin. He traced the rough pads of his fingertips on her inner thighs, causing her to spread her legs wider. He took advantage of the extra room and pushed closer against her. His noticeable erection brushed against her clit through the thin lace of her panties and she moaned into his kiss, causing him to grow harder.

Snow was desperate to feel him, to have him completely consume her. Her body moved of its own accord, her hips thrusted upwards to feel him once more. Internally she was waging a mental war. Her logical mind fought to snap her out of this spell and to push him away before things escalated, but she was too far gone. His hands worked their way to the loop of her lace panties causing all doubts and reservations to scatter.

“Flo please” she mewled as his lips latched onto the sensitive flesh on her shoulder. Right now, there was only one goal on her mind; to be pinned underneath him while he had his way with her.

But the sudden knock at the door halted their plans and snapped them out of the trance. Hearts beat wildly as they gazed at one another, stunned by what almost transpired. A second knock sprung them into action and they quickly made themselves presentable. Snow smoothed out her skirt and fixed her hair while Florian made sure to to hide the impressive bulge in his pants. With one glance back at Snow, he opened the door to Emmeline standing there with a knowing grin on her face.

“Excuse me” he mumbled before taking off to the bar to prepare for the evening's events.

Emmeline stared at his retreating form with that same smirk before turning back to her sister.

“What did you need Em? Snow carefully took a seat behind desk to conceal the slight tremor in her knees. But Emmeline didn’t miss the shaky tone of her voice.

“Girl stop playing with me and tell the truth! Y’all fucking?”

Snow couldn’t help the giggles that spilled out. Her sister was not going to let this go until she knew the truth.

“Fine” she huffed, wiping the tears from her eyes. “I’ll tell you everything but we’re going to need a lot of wine”

Translations:

Genau- Exactly

Du bist ein geist- “You are a ghost”

mädchen- girl

Nein-no

Bossin- boss

Alles klar?- Is everything clear?

Ich oder du- “Me or you?”

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duhragonball · 3 years

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[FIC] Luffa: The Legendary Super Saiyan (152/?)

Disclaimer: This story features characters and concepts based on Dragon Ball, which is a trademark of Bird Studio/Shueisha and Toei Animation. This is an unauthorized work, and no profit is being made on this work by me. This story is copyright of me. Download if you like, but please don’t archive it without my permission. Don’t be shy.

Continuity Note: This story takes place about 1000 years before 66 years after the events of Dragon Ball Z.

[24 December, Age 762. Namek.]

Luffa found herself back in the past, on the Planet Namek, during Frieza's invasion. She did not understand how the Scroll of Eternity worked, or how her Time Patrol missions could "fix" anomalies in the flow of time. What mattered now was that a mysterious enemy had altered the course of events on this date and place, and when Luffa had failed to correct the problem on her first try, she ended up switching bodies with the villainous Captain Ginyu. Somehow, the Scroll of Eternity had recalled her to the Time Vault, but the only way to complete the mission was to resume from the exact moment where she had left off. And because of the bodyswapping complication, Luffa would have to handle the matter personally.

Inhabiting Captain Ginyu's massive purple body was a deeply unsettling experience for Luffa. So was the sight of her own Saiyan body acting independently of her consciousness. Disillusioned as she was with the Saiyan species and culture, she still clung to her heritage as a refuge of self-esteem. Ginyu had ripped that away from her without even noticing he had done it. It had been a great relief to be recalled back to the Time Vault and made whole again. Returning to this nightmare was just as traumatic as it had been the first time. Luffa's only solace was that she was somewhat more prepared this time around.

She felt the weight of her new alien body, took note of the curious deadening of her sense of smell, and felt her own ki nearby, as Ginyu used her body to attack Goku. Then she saw Jeice and Guldo, ready to finish her off. Everything was happening just like before.

Only this time, Luffa laughed.

"Oi, what's so funny?" Jeice demanded. The red-skinned, white-haired alien was one of Captain Ginyu's squad of mercenaries. During her first go-round on this mission, Luffa had noticed that Jeice was familiar with Captain Ginyu's bodyswapping technique. Jeice had seen it used before, which meant that he must have known the last person Ginyu had used it on.

"You... fools! Luffa cackled. "You played right into my hands! I never dreamed you'd actually be stupid enough to use that trick again, but now that you have--! Well, that just makes this so much easier, doesn't it?"

The next moment would decide everything. Luffa's plan was mostly a hunch followed by a lot of improvisation. If she had miscalculated, then the entire house of cards would collapse. Jeice's reaction would tell the story. He blinked twice, his face blank as he seemed to process what she had just said.

Then he swallowed hard, and his lower lip shrank behind his upper. Luffa would have smiled anyway, in order to keep up appearances, but now she could grin much more genuinely.

"Y-you can't be--!" Jeice gasped, his throat suddenly dry with terror. "Not... him! It's impossible, ain't it? W-we left you for dead!"

"Did you actually think a Saiyan woman could fight like that?" Luffa went on. "Take a look at your captain over there. He's not doing so well, is he? He thought that a Saiyan body would give him an edge, but that little savage girl never would have beaten Recoome on her own. Without me, she's useless. As for me...? Well, now I'm back where I belong. So where does that leave you, Jeice?"

Jeice spared a moment to glance over to the fight between Son Goku and Ginyu-in-Luffa's-body. Goku had a clear advantage, and Ginyu seemed to be struggling for a chance to switch bodies again to even the odds.

"It's a trick!" Jeice protested. "Nah, you're puttin' me on, lady. I can tell you ain't him. It can't be. There... Well, there's no way!"

The sweat on his brow was enough for Luffa to know that she had him in the palm of her hand. She didn't need to convince Jeice; she just had to make him wonder long enough to stop fighting. As for Guldo, he had been acting strangely ever since her unknown enemy had enchanted him. His four eyes still glowed red, and a purple aura rose up from his bulbous green body, making him look like an evil frog. From then on, Guldo had been driven by his rage against Luffa, but he seemed to lack the will to speak or ask questions, and Luffa's bodyswap with Ginyu seemed to confuse him a little. The important thing was that Guldo was staying out of the conversation. Jeice would be a lot harder to fool if someone were around to talk sense into him.

"To be honest, Jeice, I'm not him," Luffa continued. "I used to be once, but not anymore, I suppose. You did leave me for dead, but I survived, and I swore I'd find Ginyu someday. Make you all pay for what you did to me. I can't switch bodies the way Ginyu does, Jeice. It's more like a possession. Or a merger. With each soul I take over, I lose a little more of myself in the process. And that Saiyan woman over there? Hah! And I thought I had anger issues. It's funny. Now that I'm back in my original body, it almost doesn't feel right anymore. It's just another vessel I've stolen. I guess after all I've been through, I'll never feel 'right' again. But that's a small price to pay for revenge. Yeah, a real bargain, as long as it gets me Ginyu's death."

She had concocted this half-story over a hot stove, working out just enough details to make it sound plausible. The hard part had been figuring out how to impersonate an alien warrior she knew nothing about, until she realized that she could use that to her advantage. Besides, if this didn't work, she would fail the mission and have to start over, so she could theoretically try again as many times as she needed, and tweak her approach each time. Luckily, Jeice was hooked on the first try.

The key was to look past her own fear of being trapped inside this purple man's body, and see the fear Captain Ginyu must have had for the purple man's body. It must have belonged to a powerful enemy. A being so powerful, that there was no other way for Ginyu to defeat him. And perhaps Ginyu could trade up whenever he was cornered, but Jeice could not. It wasn't important that Luffa didn't know the purple man's name, or what sort of powers he had. The body itself was a weapon. And now that Jeice was paralyzed with fear, Luffa had the chance she needed to figure out how to use it.

Her first target was Guldo. A simple ki blast from her eyes was enough to stun him, and that would put his psychic powers out of commission long enough to do what came next. And now that she didn't have to worry about any psionic hold on her movements, Luffa found that controlling the purple man's body wasn't all that difficult.

"Guldo!" Jeice cried. In the moment it took him to notice Guldo toppling backward and down to the ground below, Luffa was upon him.

"It must have been comforting, Jeice!" Luffa whispered into his ear as she grabbed him from behind and twisted his arm behind his own back. "All this time, knowing that you never had to worry about me, as long as your precious captain had control of my body. But he can't save you now, can he?"

"Y-you're wrong!" Jeice whined. "The Captain knows how to handle blokes like you! He always maims himself right before he does a body switch. Or hadn't y'noticed that hole in your chest? All that blue stuff leakin' outta you? That ain't soda, mate."

"I did notice," Luffa said. "It's kind of uncomfortable, actually, but I've had worse. Your boss must have wanted to injure me so I'd be too weak to put up a fight, but he couldn't do too much damage or he'd wind up killing himself before he could use his magic trick."

It was her-- the purple man's-- left pectoralis muscle that was wounded. A similar wound on her own body would have been devastating. Her left arm would be practically useless, to say nothing of potential damage to her ribs and the lung tissue underneath. And the blood loss alone would have been debilitating. For a Saiyan body-- and for several other humanoid anatomies-- this would have been an ideal place to sabotage. But in the purple man's body, the wound didn't seem to bother her much at all. It just hurt. It hurt a lot, but she didn't feel any weaker, and her left arm worked just fine. In fact, she almost wondered if the wound was healing itself.

She decided to demonstrate her good fortune by wrapping her left arm around Jeice's neck in a choke hold.

"You and Ginyu really don't know anything about me, huh?" she asked. "He wanted my body so badly, but he never bothered to study it, to learn how it works! So many secrets, Jeice. Let me share them with you."

This was exactly how she wanted it to work. She had already overpowered Jeice, but she still needed more time to master the purple man's body. And it suited her sense of justice that the purple man still carried the keys to victory within his body, long after his spirit had been removed. She struggled to gather more ki, mostly to intimidate Jeice further, but as she did this, she began to realize it was a lot easier than it had been in her own body.

"You're crazy!" Jeice pleaded as he gasped for breath. "Even if you kill me and the Captain, you still wouldn't stand a chance against Lord Frieza."

"You aren't listening Jeice," Luffa snarled. "I don't care about Lord Frieza, or these Saiyans, or even the Dragon Balls. I only came here for revenge. I'm not even sure where I go from here. I could take your ship and escape, or maybe Frieza will kill me before I get the chance. It doesn't matter anymore. As far as I'm concerned, I'm already dead. I died the day Ginyu stole my body and left me to rot. All that matters is that you Ginyu Force goons will precede me into hell..."

With a sudden burst of power, fueled by desperation, Jeice managed to break free of Luffa's grip. He might have attacked, but instead he screamed as loud as he could.

"Captain Ginyu! Heeellllp!"

By the time he realized that he needed to be fighting back, it was too late. He cut loose with a bombardment of ki energy, and Luffa was enveloped in a glowing vermilion fog of destructive power, but it wasn't enough. She emerged from the clouds of light and struck Jeice with a devastating punch to his jaw.

"He can't save you," Luffa taunted. "He can't even save himself."

By now, Luffa was not only satisfied with her own control over Ginyu's body, but with Ginyu's apparent difficulty in handling hers. She would have expected him to have beaten Son Goku, but instead Ginyu was still struggling. She doubted that switching bodies again would help him. His only chance now was to get help from his teammates, and so Luffa decided it was time to eliminate that option. She held up her hand and fired pointblank into Jeice's face. When the light of her attack faded, there was nothing left of him. Her Saiyan body would have caught the odor of burnt flesh and hair, but the purple man's inferior nose couldn’t pick it up, and so Luffa had to settle for her imagination of the aroma.

She smiled anyway.

"Jeice!"

Nearby, it seemed that Captain Ginyu had reached the same conclusion as Luffa. He needed help to defeat Son Goku, and he was running out of allies. Recoome and Burter's bodies had barely grown cold, and Jeice was the third to die, but Luffa didn't plan to stop there. She looked around for Guldo, but could find no trace of him. Under the influence of the unknown enemy's magic, it was unlikely that he would flee, but his strange powers did make him tough to find. And then, when she finally realized where Guldo had gone, she flew towards Ginyu as quickly as she could.

She didn't spot Guldo until she was much closer. He was taking cover on the ground, behind a large rock formation, but Luffa couldn't take the time to deal with him. Not while Goku suddenly found himself frozen in mid-air, unable to move, not while Ginyu, sensing the opportunity, raised his arms and began to glow. Under different circumstances, Luffa might have found it surreal to watch her own body glowing this way, but she couldn't afford to think about that, not until she was at last where she needed to be...

Directly between Ginyu and Goku, so that the body-changing technique would strike her instead of Ginyu's intended target.

The results were nearly instantaneous, though Luffa did notice a horrified look in her own eyes when Ginyu realized his technique was about to misfire. In the next moment, she was herself again, and Captain Ginyu floated between the two Saiyans, once more in the purple man's body.

"Wh-what's going on?!" Goku asked, his body still paralyzed by Guldo's power.

"No!" Ginyu shouted. "How can this be?!"

"I'll explain later, Kakarot," Luffa said, surprised by the sound of her own voice. She raised her fingers, and began charging her ki to attack. Everything felt so familiar, so right, although she still had only a fraction of her former strength. "First, I need to kill this bastard off before he gets any more bright ideas. Say, goodbye, Captain. I'll be sending Guldo to join y--"

But before she could attack, she found herself overcome by a wave of exhaustion. She had expected to find a certain level of ki in her own body, but what she hadn't considered was the damage her body had taken from Ginyu using it to fight Goku. For that matter, Luffa had also forgotten the damage she had sustained against Recoome and Guldo earlier in the mission. When the Time Patrol had recalled her to base on her first botched attempt, Chronoa had healed those wounds. But now that Luffa had returned to try again, it seemed that some of that damage was restored. It was no wonder that Ginyu had performed so poorly in Luffa's body. Even if he had known how to use it to its fullest, Goku was fresh.

Had Luffa been prepared for this fatigue, she might have still been able to gather the power needed to kill Captain Ginyu as she had planned. But she wasn't ready, and so she had gathered her ki much faster than she should have, and the result left her dazed and weakened. She began to sink to the ground, like a leaf falling from a tree. She had fully expected to finish the Ginyu Force off for good, but now it was all she could do to slow her descent.

Even before she reached the ground, Ginyu's laughter told her what would happen next. She tried to call out to Goku, to warn him of what would happen, but she knew there was nothing he could do. Guldo's power would keep him frozen in place until the deed was done.

At least history was back on course! This was what Luffa told herself as she tried to force herself to stay conscious. Galling as it was, Ginyu was supposed to switch bodies with Goku, and no one else, and supposedly, Goku and the others could resolve that problem themselves. The only trouble was that Guldo was still in the picture, and Luffa was reasonably sure Guldo was supposed to be dead by now.

"Game over, monkey."

She suddenly noticed Guldo looming over her, and before she could defend herself he kicked her with those stubby legs of his. His eyes still burned red, and his body still roiled with the purple aura of the enemy's magic. It seemed that he wasn't going to stop until Luffa was dead, which suited her just fine. If she could just keep Guldo occupied, then her mission could still succeed, and this would all be over.

It was getting easier to concentrate now, but she still wasn't sure if Guldo had gotten stronger, or if she was still weak. As she tumbled across the Namekian plains, her tattered yellow clothes staining blue from the alien grass, Guldo gave chase, punching and kicking her before she could ever come to a stop. In the distance, she could sense Goku and Ginyu leaving, no doubt heading back to Frieza's ship. Guldo could still interfere in their battle, and so she decided not to fight back. She wasn't sure if she was in any shape to defeat him, but she could definitely keep him occupied for a while longer.

"Miserable little savage!" Guldo growled. It seemed like all he could say now were these spiteful names and racial epithets. The enemy had amplified his hatred until there was nothing else for him to express. Luffa ignored his words as she covered her face to block his next strike.

She wasn't sure how to make sense of it. During these missions, her powers seemed to grow whenever someone hit her, but Goku had battered her senseless while Captain Ginyu had been in possession of her body, and she didn't seem to gain anything from it. And yet, Guldo's attacks seemed to be getting her fired up again.

"Saiyan germ!" Guldo screeched as he punted Luffa another few hundred meters. By now, she was fed up with stalling him, but she was having trouble keeping up with his movements. He seemed to blink in and out of existence for a moment, and she couldn't anticipate where he would be next.

"You're not like Chiaotzu at all," Luffa muttered as she flew high into the air. If she couldn't intercept his next kick, she could avoid him completely and see how he reacted. "When I fought him he was possessed like you are now, there was still a decent man underneath, clawing and scratching to get out. But you! You're just a pathetic wretch, and that dark energy just makes it that much more obvious."

He was gone. Luffa played a hunch and turned herself to face the sky, where she found Guldo preparing another psychic attack. She fired a ki blast, but he vanished again before it could connect.

"Golden Duster," Luffa grumbled. This technique was something she had developed long ago, useful for tracking stubborn targets who were better at hiding than fighting. The problem was that its range was limited. As the Legendary Super Saiyan, Luffa could have covered large swaths of the Namekian surface with it. In her present condition, the best she could do was to surround herself in a misty field of ki globules. Guldo would have to pass through it in order to attack her, and she would sense the disturbance in the field, even if she couldn't detect him directly.

Only, it didn't work the way she had planned. Guldo suddenly struck her, and she sensed the hole he had made in her defenses, but it all happened instantaneously. As she crashed into the Namekian turf, she wondered if Guldo had super-speed abilities, but that didn't make sense. Burter had claimed to be the fastest of the Ginyu Force, and she had managed to outrun him with little trouble. If Guldo was even faster, Luffa suspected that Burter wouldn't have had much to brag about. There had to be more to his secret than mere speed.

"Whatever this is, you can't keep it up for very long," Luffa said as she gathered herself up from the ground. "And it doesn't make you any stronger; it just gives you a free shot. Then you have to reset before you can do it again. So let's make the most of that time, shall we?"

She shot straight up into the air, flying as fast as she could. Luffa wasn't sure if Guldo's strange abilities would help him catch up, but she figured she couldn't go wrong by moving in one direction. As she ascended, she charged her ki and began firing wild shots down to the surface below. None of them would be strong enough to destroy Namek entirely, but the bombardment would scorch the land directly beneath her, and Guldo would have to attack or flee if he wanted to avoid taking a hit. And with the dark energy controlling his thoughts, Luffa was sure that Guldo wouldn't run away.

As expected, Guldo's pudgy green form came rising up to meet her, vanishing every few seconds and reappearing ever closer. Luffa continued firing ki blasts in her wake as she flew higher and higher. Without knowing what Guldo's power was, her only chance was to test it to find its limits. He continued to chase her into the air, following her no matter how high into the sky she climbed. And then, just when he was close enough to strike...

Guldo's fist reached Luffa's face, but she didn't even feel the impact. He had managed to blink ahead just enough to break through her defenses, but there was no force behind his punches. And then Guldo started gasping for breath.

"K-kill you!" he sputtered, as Luffa continued to back away. They were high enough in the air that the stars were visible in the green sky.

"So that's it," Luffa said. "Whatever you're doing, you have to hold your breath to make it work. And maybe you've got a good handle on it at sea level, but not when the air's thin and you need to move quickly."

She threw a kick, and he managed to hold his breath long enough to blink out of the way, but she was ready for him, and fired a ki blast when he reappeared. Then she grabbed him by the collar of his armor and punched him in the gut to make it even harder for him to breathe.

"It's almost like you can stop time. Is that it? I didn't even know that was a thing. If you weren't such a weakling, you might actually be pretty dangerous. No, you're not a weakling. You're a lot stronger than Nappa and Raditz were. The problem is you've got no ambition. Ginyu only keeps you around so you can help him use his own ability. No one's interested in using you for anything but support. It's pitiful, really. Such a waste of talent."

To his credit, Guldo continued to struggle, but he was powerless at this altitude.

"Even if you can stop time, or just immobilize me, it won't do you any good while I'm holding on to you like this," Luffa said. "Now let's just see what's in that pea brain of yours..."

She placed her free hand on his face, and found the texture of his skin revolting, like the rind of a rotten fruit. She hoped that Guldo had some memory of the one who had enchanted him, but instead she only found a torrent of rage and hatred, mostly aimed at Vegeta for insulting him, and at herself for humiliating him.

"You don't smell that bad," Luffa grumbled. "I knew Vegeta was a spoiled brat, but this is ridiculous. Wait..."

There was no recollection of Guldo falling under the enemy's spell. He had been alone on Frieza's ship when it happened, but Guldo did remember seeing the rest of Frieza's crew falling under the same spell, one by one, until the entire crew followed him into battle. And that was when Luffa finally realized...

"The enemy must still be here!" she gasped. "Near Frieza's ship!"

She killed Guldo as quickly as she could and reached out with her senses to find Goku and Vegeta's power signatures. They would be heading for Frieza's ship as well, and may have already arrived. And perhaps Captain Ginyu was a threat they could handle, but if the Time Patrol's mysterious enemy was still on Namek, still influencing other fighters, then she had badly miscalculated Guldo's purpose. Luffa had assumed the enemy had sent Guldo to neutralize her, but he was probably nothing more than a diversion.

After what seemed like an eternity, Luffa finally reached the ship, where she found Goku lying defeated on the ground, and the purple man's body battling desperately against Vegeta. Krillin and Gohan were there as well, and the seven Namekian Dragon Balls lay on a patch of upturned soil near the entrance ramp of the ship. She had been eager to join the fray, except she had no idea which of these fighters was Captain Ginyu. At last, she settled on checking Goku's body first, since he would be the easiest to avoid if he were Ginyu waiting for an opportunity.

"You've looked better, Kakarot," Luffa said as she alighted next to him.

"Heh. Dunno why you guys keep callin' me that name," Goku said.

Up close, Goku looked even worse than she had feared, but at least he had gotten his own body back, and he seemed to be in high spirits.

"Ginyu," she asked. "Which one is he?"

"He... he's in his own body again," Goku said. "But he's gonna try to switch with Vegeta, and Vegeta's got no idea--"

"Typical," Luffa scoffed. "If that royalist coward hadn't cut and run earlier, he'd know all about Ginyu's ability by now. Instead, he's completely fresh, and ready to walk right into a trap. Well, I'll just head up there and--"

"No, wait!" Goku pleaded. "You're hurt too! If you try to get between them now, you might only make things worse!"

"You've got a better idea?" Luffa demanded. As much as Vegeta disgusted her, she could at least understand him. Goku was difficult to read.

Mostly, she found him rather pathetic. Raised among Earthlings, Goku seemed to lack the killer instinct that defined Saiyans. He appeared to have plenty of courage, and his power had developed impressively over a short time, but there was still something missing about him, something she couldn't quite figure out. As Luffa waited for him to answer, she noticed him suddenly looking at a frog that had burrowed up from the ground beside him. Before she could ask, Goku grabbed the frog in his hand, and then tossed it into the air.

"What the hell are you d--?" Luffa started to ask. And then she saw Ginyu use his technique, and she got her answer.

Vegeta remained transfixed in midair, completely confused by what had just happened. Both the frog and the purple man fell to the ground. The purple man landed on his hands and feet, looked around with a blank expression, and croaked. Then he hopped away from the ship, passing Luffa and Goku without even noticing them.

"It worked!" Goku said with a stifled groan. Luffa suspected that throwing the frog had aggravated his injuries. Krillin and Gohan, also very confused, rushed to Goku's side, and helped him up.

"What happened to Ginyu?!" Vegeta demanded. He landed nearby, and glared in the direction the purple man had hopped away.

"Wrong way," Luffa replied. "If you want Ginyu, he's right over there." She pointed at the small blue frog that Goku had tossed into the air. The frog was trying to hop away to safety, but something about its movements seemed very unnatural, like it wasn't sure how to be a frog, and it was trying a little too hard.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding," Vegeta growled.

"You saw how he used Kakarot's body, idiot!" Luffa shouted. "Ginyu was going to do the same thing to you if Kakarot hadn't tossed that frog in the way."

"Then he's helpless," Vegeta said with a malicious smile. "Well that suits me just fine..."

"Don't be a fool!" Luffa warned him. "He's smaller now, but he might still have that bodyswapping power. If you're not careful, you'll be the one catching flies. Then again, those antennae would be an improvement for you, Vegeta... Go ahead and fight him, if you dare."

Vegeta crossed his arms and turned his back on Luffa and the frog. "Lucky for you, woman, I have more pressing business than listening to your feeble japes. I'll deal with you after I've settled with Kakarot..."

With that, he walked over to speak with the others. Luffa continued to watch the frog-Ginyu as he hopped away. After everything else she had endured, this felt anticlimactic. She was sure the enemy was still lurking somewhere nearby, and if Ginyu was still a potential threat, then they might use him to attack them once more. She considered killing the frog and the purple man's body, if only to eliminate any loose ends, but then she noticed the frog glancing to one side, as though something had caught Ginyu's attention.

Luffa sensed nothing in that direction. If there was a strong ki signature, it was carefully hidden. Curious, she stared into the distance, trying to find whatever Ginyu had seen. It occurred to her that Namekian frogs might have possessed keener senses than she understood. And then she spotted it: a pair of humanoid figures in the distance, watching from the top of a tall, narrow hill.

She looked back for a moment, and saw the others helping Goku into the spaceship. Satisfied that nothing would happen to them, Luffa took flight, heading directly for the hill.

When she arrived, there was no one in sight. Luffa had expected to find a spaceship, or a time machine, or some other vehicle or base. As she examined the terrain at the base of the hill, she heard footsteps, and suddenly, she could sense their ki.

A woman's voice made a bemused chuckle, and Luffa turned to find her stepping out from behind the hill.

"You're pretty sharp," the woman said. She had pale blue skin, and pointed ears. Luffa almost wondered if she was a different strain of Namekian, except all the Namekians she had met were bald, with two antennae on their foreheads. This woman had a head of white hair, and she was dressed head-to-toe in a skin-tight red-and-black costume. Something like a skirt flared out from the waist of her suit, and she held a spear in her left hand.

"It must have been you snooping around," the woman continued. "I hope you aren't thinking of interfering. That would be a mistake."

Luffa didn't understand. She had already interfered, hadn't she? This woman was the Time Patrol's enemy, wasn't she? The one who had tried to alter history, except Luffa had just set things right. It seemed like this woman had a completely different plan altogether. Could the changes in history simply be a means to an end?

"A costly mistake," added a man who now stepped out to join the woman. He appeared to be the male of the same species, whatever that species was. He was considerably taller than the woman, and his red-and-black costume included a white chestplate with a bronze bar that looped around the back of his neck.

"I will eliminate you here and now," he declared in a somber, dispassionate voice. His words were hostile, but he made them sound like a bored weather report. Luffa wondered if he was some sort of machine, but before she could ask, he began to raise his ki, and a large red aura flared up around him.

"Shall I proceed, Towa?" he asked, never taking his eyes off Luffa.

"Very eager today, aren't you, Mira?" Towa replied with a wry smile. "All right, I'll let you have your fun. Killing this Saiyan will make a decent test of your abilities."

Mira stepped towards Luffa with cold menace in his eyes. Luffa stood her ground, and smiled.

NEXT: Luffa vs. Mira

#dragon ball #fanfiction #lssjluffafic #luffa #jeice #guldo #captain ginyu #goku #vegeta #krillin #gohan #towa #mira #namek

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yanderecandystore · 4 years

Note

yan! ceo with a robot assistant s/o? if you’re not doin the ceo anymore then anyone else is fine >v<

The thing about the CEO character is that I… Well, I technically don't have one 👉🏻👈🏻.

I mean, I have one, but- I didn't know if I wanted to make her official, so I didn't introduced her, so…

Maybe this is the best time to properly introduce her (because I don't have a male counterpart yet, so I'll do her first).

TW/Tags: We're going into the interesting land of probably pastel/ownership kink!! // people lying a lot!!// There are hints of LGBT identity and LGBT phobia/ignorance // family issues // Thicc tower woman but I didn't mention her physic enough ;-; but imagine her being really tall // naivety coming from the reader and simping hard coming from the CEO // low-key, CEO being rude.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Happy lies [Yandere!CEO Oc x A.I!Reader - Fanfiction]:

Ingrid Bright. A name that just by saying can send shivers down everyone's spine. All members of the Bright family were known for being ruthless, but Ingrid was indeed something else.

A woman of power, a woman of pride, a woman of determination.

A woman of mysteries.

She was known for being a merciless business woman. A person that wouldn't let the feelings of her co-workers overcome her own destination towards glory. She was ruthless, but it was clear that her path would lead her company to greater heights.

Her attitude wasn't the most pleasant or supportive, but if it wasn't for her lead, her family's company would probably die sooner than her predecessors anticipated.

It has been passed from father to son since the founder of the corporation. From a small inventor building steam machines, to one of the most powerful corporations in technology and science. Although their research is mostly done privately, their technology is shared worldwide, even if their products are… A bit too expensive.

You think that because of such high prices, and the consumers being only the 1% of the population, the corporation was starting to fall. Ingrid's father tried to make changes to the company that sadly, went unnoticed.

It was Ingrid who changed their usual business practices drastically, which although not being perfect, helped the company get to the right tracks to a better future.

Ingrid had saved her family's company, but in the process of being passed down from "father to son", Ingrid had separated herself entirely from her dad.

Not many people really understand what happened, but Ms. Bright had a terrible argument with her father, that caused the two to cut communication.

Ms. Bright still wears the name Bright proudly. It could be either for the meaning of it, or for her strong connection with her family.

You don't really know if it's true, but, you are 65% certain that Ms. Bright may miss her father in some way or another, and keeping the name not only honors her family's achievements and predecessors, but also keeps her being at least a little closer to her father.

Not that she would ever tell you the reason why, you're only left to speculate.

"And who am I in the story?" You may be thinking. Well, you're a hand built assistant android with the latest a.i, created to serve Ms. Bright.

And also, a gift, from Mrs. Bright to his only daughter.

You see, Ingrid has trouble communicating. She can be a little rude when in reality she means well. Although, you have to admit that even if you worked for her for five years now, she is really, really scary.

"- You're an overly glorified doll, an a.i that man built to assist me when every other person around me is absolutely incompetent." She told you as she was walking really, really fast to her office. You tried following her pace but it was really hard for you to go just as fast as her.

"- You're supposed to do the tasks that I order you to do, yet you went out of your way once again." She was scolding you because of an incident that occurred a couple of seconds ago. You're beautifully designed, perfect for being a social android capable of resolving simple tasks. But you weren't built for holding weight.

"- I-I'm sorry Ms. Bright-!" You tried helping a couple of manual workers that were rebuilding one of the rooms. They were holding really heavy stuff that although it was natural to them, it made your arms disattached and one of your legs break from trying to support your whole body and the extra weight.

You can't help but feel intimidated under her gaze, but you know that… Deep down, behind that rough exterior there is a person that doesn't want you to get hurt.

"- This is the eight time you do this and I can't stand that pompous prick! There is no way in hell I'll let that guy touch you again." She was talking about one of the robot engineers inside the building. You think his name was Mack, you're not sure.

Funny isn't it? You've been in his office seven times and you still don't remember his name! But you remember him being pretty funny.

"- Why won't you let Mack fix me?" You asked genuinely confused. Your naivety is adorable, but dear Lord, how infuriating it is!

"- That prick gives me some really odd glances, and besides, he's annoying." Ingrid entered her office pulling you in and closing the door. It's been such a busy day today, can't a woman enjoy her birthday in peace?

Ingrid was only being half honest. Yes, she finds Mack to be annoying, but the true reason why she hates him is because of the smug face he makes every time you two enter his office.

He knows there is something a little different from the way Ingrid treats you from the rest of the "underlings".

"- So, who will fix me?" She sits you down on the couch, as she storms around the room trying to remember all of the things she needs to resolve today.

"- I'll fix you up when I get back, I just need to- Argh, God, [Y/N] have you seen my phone?" She was crouching down to look under her desk.

"- It's, right in front of you, Ms. Bright." Her hand was right by the phone's side, yet she was so stressed out that she didn't seem to notice how close her phone was.

"- Unh? Oh." She is always in a hurry, especially on her birthday. You wish she could sit down and relax a bit, couldn't she just, don't work on her birthday? You think she should be able to stay at home at least one day.

While looking at all her notifications she reread all of the tasks you had to complete today. She decided that she'll first have her meeting with some executives and then she'll come back to fix you. She isn't really skilled in fixing robots but it'll have to do.

There is no way she is going to see that smug face today. And no way is she going to let that bastard's greasy hands touch you.

Oh, that rat gets too comfortable touching you. You're not only a fragile device but you're also property of Ingrid Bright, he is supposed to repair you whenever you're broken, not make fun of the CEO while she is right there! The audacity of this man to not only make fun of his boss in her presence, but also make jokes for you to laugh at.

"- [Y/N], when I come back I'll fix you, or maybe call someone else to do it, I don't know yet, but either way stay still. I'm probably going to take four to five hours to come back, so feel free to use the computer or read a book if you're bored." She was getting ready for her reunion, as she continued to walk in circles around the room trying to find some papers she was supposed to take to the reunion.

"- I can review some data in the computer, and probably fix some documents that need to get revised-" You wanted to be useful and try to continue your work. You feel that if you just stay in the room waiting for her to come back, you won't be really helping her like you're supposed to.

"- No, no, please, stay right there. You don't need to do your tasks today." She had cut you off stating that you shouldn't be moving so much. Your parts are almost falling down, and she still doesn't know how she'll fix you.

"- But!-" You tried to reason, but your boss was way too much of a hot head.

"- I'll be back, okay." She said as she closed the door.

Well. Guess is nap time! Or, restore energy time, I guess?

But before you managed to shut down, you heard a couple of knocks on the door.

"- I'm coming." You said hoping the person on the other side would hear it. You don't remember if anyone was going to visit Ms. Bright today, but you didn't want to keep the person waiting too long.

You tried to maneuver yourself to the door, as having one broken leg and both arms falling apart wasn't really easy.

"- Ms. Bright is having a meeting now, but I'm sure she can contact you later!" You warned the stranger, thinking that maybe they wanted something from Ms. Bright.

"- Can I help you- Oh!" You finally managed to open the door but there was no one on the other side. Only a box with flowers on top.

"- Pink lilies, yellow orchids and white roses, what a strange combination." You thought out loud. You're aware of how often Ms. Bright gains gifts from secret admirers, but never one so unusual and especially on her birthday.

Everyone knows she hates roses. You wonder if there is any card saying who is the sender.

You go back to the couch, with the bouquet in one hand, and the other one dragging the box to the couch, as you can't really pick it up. You try finding a gift card or any form of hint of who the sender is.

You found one! But… It's with the Bright Vision Corp symbol on it, and is saying that is from Mrs. Bright to Mrs.-…

Oh.

Oh, you know who sent this.

"- Mrs. Bright… You're really stubborn..." Ingrid's father always sends her a gift on her birthday, mostly flowers, with a gift card with his number.

Now that you think about it, maybe the flowers that were chosen aren't so unusual, maybe they mean something. Normally he would send hyacinths. A full bouquet of only hyacinths.

They were gorgeous, but…

Every single gift card contained his name, and Ms. Bright 's old name, and she really doesn't want to be referred to with that name. She had told him the other times he sent these how she feels about it, yet, the old man doesn't seem to comprehend his own daughters feelings.

Is it because of ignorance? Is it because of spite? Is it because he doesn't care? Is it because he doesn't know any better?

Which one? You personally don't know. And Ingrid, doesn't care.

The first time he sent her this gift, she called him, but things didn't really work out.

She doesn't want to interact with him anymore, and so she burns his gifts. You asked her why, but, she just doesn't want to have him in her life anymore.

He is living his life in the countryside with his wife, living a traditional and simpler lifestyle that he always wanted. While Ingrid is living her best life really distant from them, in this big city full of lights.

Even if that means missing them sometimes.

You respect Ms. Bright privacy, so you haven't continued asking her about her decisions. This bouquet is so pretty though, it would be a shame to burn such beautiful flowers.

"- I think… Maybe she should keep this…"

You look at the box that came with the flowers. Well, "with the flowers", as looking at the box more carefully you can see that it wasn't her dad that had sent the box to her, but rather it was something she had ordered online.

"- Oh, I can't believe it is here!" Honestly, this one box has taken three weeks to find its way to the company, what the hell it's inside? The curiosity of seeing her buy this but never tell you what it was, was eating you up inside.

She was being so mysterious about this, she didn't even let you use her computer. She probably thought you were going to see her history and see what she brought (and yes, you would).

"- It's probably another fancy imported dress. Or maybe it's one of those cute japanese trinkets!" You thought about picking up the box, but your arms would probably break if you tried.

"- Sigh, actually, it may be another piece of equipment for her office, like her last birthday." You sighed out loud once again, remembering how her least birthday was incredibly boring, even to you, and you don't really understand what birthdays are!

You get a little bit, it's a special date that commemorates the birth of a human being. They receive gifts and get a happy birthday party, and everyone says "happy birthday!"...

Okay, maybe you want someone to say happy birthday to you, but that is beside the point.

"- She probably have brought new computer just so she can keep being a workaholic and get stressed out every five seconds!" You probably shouldn't be ranting so loudly, but still! It 's her birthday! She shouldn't be buying things that are for her job, she should be focusing on buying stuff that makes her happy!

Actually, maybe you… Should give her something-

"- I'm back-" Oh dearest, that was kinda fast-

You throw the gift card aside, as you have thought about a really dumb but possibly great idea.

"- [Y/N], I- [Y/N]?!? What happened to your arm?!?" She started talking with a calm and almost soothing voice until she noticed that one of your arms has started to actually fall apart from your body.

"- Uhn, nothing much." I mean, to you is nothing, really, it's just inconvenient.

"- Oh dear… Pfft, Jesus you really are a handful." She is in an oddly playful mood, which is perfect actually! This is probably the first time she doesn't sound so terribly stressed.

"- Has everything gone well in the meeting?" You ask, while you follow with your eyes her moviments. She is hyperventilating from doing so much stuff and going around the place at full speed. (Although she just… Walks really fast).

"- Well, yes, you know the usual, a bunch of old people saying this, saying that-" She starts going in detail, but she doesn't really care about the meeting. She is tired and all that she wants is to take a bath.

She lays down on the other couch across from you and goes on her rant about her day, it's honestly kinda funny how she lets herself be more comfortable with you. She doesn't like shoving her problems down on anyone's throat but she is glad you're listening.

She can feel your soft gaze on her form. It's honestly comforting. Throughout the day she poses as an absolute untouchable goddess, and everyone, even you, looks at her like she is absolutely terrifying. And, yes she knows, and yes, she… Kinda likes it.

Don't get her wrong, it is not like she is going to come out of your bed and grab your foot at night. She just feels a little stronger knowing people see her as untouchable. She doesn't feel like she is, though.

And when it comes to you, is… it is different. It's weird… She likes how you look scared, but also look so relaxed around her.

How casual you act, and how affectionate your gaze feels.

She turns her head to look at you, to confirm her thoughts but-

"- Oh… Don't tell me." Flowers. Flowers again. She has two intuitions about what those flowers are. None of them are of her interest.

"- Oh- Oh, wait! These are…" Oh dear, are you really going to continue with this plan? You want to see her happy but- Something feels wrong about this plan, something feels wrong about lying…

"- These are from who, [Y/N]?" She was getting impatient, not because of your delay, but mostly because she couldn't stand the thought of her old man sending her flowers again.

She feels weak, every time he sends her these gifts. She feels like she is going to break down and… Call him again.

And if it is an admirer, well, there goes 60 dollars worth of flowers down the drain, because she is burning them. Such a shame, really.

"- It's, I- I brought this! Happy birthday!" You screamed, because your system couldn't take the heating coming from your processor. Why does it take you so much effort to just lie? And is not like it's a big-big lie, it's just a small lie?!?

"- Ah- I, what?" All of that anger, all of those intuitions, all of those plans to burn the hell of these flowers, went completely out of the window.

She is completely lost. She can't understand what, why, when, and how?? You don't even have money, how would you buy it??

"- Oh, [Y/N], you… You really don't follow my instructions, do you?" She joked as she started to tear up- Wait, no!

"- No! Please don't cry!! I'm sorry for going against your orders I just- I-I really wanted to give you something special!!" You didn't want to make her sad, why does everything that you do have the opposite effect??

"- N-No, dummy, I'm not sad because of you. I'm happy because of you." You never gave her something like this, she didn't think it was possible for you to give her something like this. They're beautiful. They're so precious.

You're so precious.

But why roses, though? Oh well, who cares!

"- Thank you so much, [Y/N]." She had approached you, taking the flowers and holding one of your hands.

She was towering over you which was making it really hard for you two to meet each other's eyes, so she crouched down to your level.

You're really broken down, she is sweaty and tired, but none of these things matters to her. This really feels like one of those special moments.

Well… Mostly to her. You're so naive, you just feel like you gave your best friend a nice gift!

Like a cat giving their owners a prey they have hunted down. You're proud of making her happy!

Oh, but things are never really so sweet, are they?

"- [Y/N], I have something- Oh, speaking of the devil, right?" She didn't finish her sentence as she noticed the box at your side.

' This day has gone from good to better!'

"- [Y/N], I also have a gift for you."

"- But I don't have a birthday-"

"- Today is your birthday, I mean, you were activated for the first time on my birthday. So, this kinda means that we share a birthday." She is talking with her normal soothing voice, but the slight tone of happiness that came with it didn't go unnoticed.

Just like your face brightening up at the news.

' It's my birthday?!!?!' You thought.

Ingrid opened the box, absolutely excited to see your face. She took your birthday gift from inside.

"- Take a look! What do you think?" She said holding an outfit that was inside the box.

Well, you were right in a way, it was an expensive imported outfit. But… You don't know, there is something different about this outfit.

It's not as fancy and modern as Ms. Bright, but it wasn't like your "futuristic" uniform. Your uniform was minimalist and grey and white, yet the outfit was- Uhn… What's the name?

Pastel! Pastel with laces! That's the name you were looking for!

It was... cute! You it's definitely more colorful than your uniform. You're just happy you have received your first ever birthday gift, and that you don't have to wear only grey uniforms.

But wasn't the outfit a little short? A little too reveling?

Inside the box there were a couple more clothes inside. All had the same theme.

"- Well, I guess now I have matching outfits!" You joked with Ingrid, not really getting the whole picture just yet.

"- Ms. Bright, I'm really thankful for your gifts! I'm so happy that-" She interrupted you by putting a finger on your mouth.

"- Call me Ingrid, [Y/N]."

"- Oh, sure!" You said, registering the new rule.

"- …" She keeps staring at you tho. Waiting for a better response.

"- Ingrid…?" You said half asking as you didn't know exactly what she was waiting for, but after seeing the satisfaction on her face, you understood that you did right regardless.

She moved away and started packing her stuff, she was planning on going back to her house.

"- It's really late now, maybe when we get home I can repair you in peace." She said.

"- But… I always stay inside the office, don't I?" You asked, genuinely confused. She didn't need to go out of her way to fix you, you could just wait until tomorrow.

"- You used to. Come on, I'll bring you home." She picks you up. You aren't as heavy, the only thing causing some weight to be pulled down is your arms falling off. She was so excited!

"- Oh, well, I guess we'll be back in the morning right?" You asked her, and once again, you showed how naive you truly were.

"- Uhn, no, you won't be coming back. I will." She said bluntly.

"- Wait, what do -"

"- You won't be coming to work anymore, [Y/N]. You're staying inside my house."

"- But Ingrid-"

"- You aren't really the "corporation's property", so there isn't any problem of me bringing something that is mine to my house." She is rushing her pace so she can get to her car faster. God, she can't wait to throw herself on her bed.

"- Ah-" You were coming up with a hundred questions. But she decided to interrupt you so she can try and explain to you.

"- Look, before you make any more questions, let me clarify the situation. You are my android assistant right?" She does sound a little pissed, even she can tell, but please don't interpret it as she being mad at you.

I mean, she is just a little bit, but it is not your fault, you're just scared of the sudden turn of events!

You nod to her, feeling more and more confused and scared. But why would you be scared? You shouldn't be scared! Ingrid is your friend, and she is also your boss.

And she is also your owner.

"- So, I… I'm going to need you to stay inside my house from now on. You'll help me with my housework from now on. I don't need your services inside the corporation anymore."

' But I still need you in my life. As cheesy as that sounds.' She thought.

"- Oh, well, I'm glad I'm still of service!" She can't blame you for having a narrow-minded mentality. You were built to serve. Just that.

But, she does need you in her life. Her personal life. It's a complete mess after all, so she isn't completely lying.

Of course she won't let you do too much work. But she knows that throwing a new environment and new concepts to you all in one night can be pretty heavy. Can't have you steaming up and exploding on her, right?

All that matters is that you're happy, she is happy, and you're both hiding the truth.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

#yandere #sheep stuff #yandere x reader #sheep's stuff #yandere oc fanfiction #yandere fanfiction #yandere oc #yandere ceo #yandere ceo x reader #yandere ceo x robot reader #yandere ceo fanfiction #special delivery request #special delivery fanfictions #unofficial oc #but who knows 👀

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nattspencer · 4 years

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In case of boredom - Part 1

Missy x reader

Part 1 (you’re here) / Part 2 / Part 3 - Complete

Summary: The reader was always intrigued by the Time Lady. When she jumps into the TARDIS, the readers decided to write a little novel to take her out of boredom, putting little annoying riddles as a password to each file.

A/N: English is not my first language, I’m really sorry for any mistakes. Also, this is my first fanfic here, so please be kind. I already have a part two in mind for this, let me know if you want it.

Warnings: None

Word count: 1.9k

The GIF is not mine

Sometimes you think your major problem is having too much empathy and caring so much for other people. You can’t just see someone feeling miserable and not try to do anything to cheer them up, even if this means just standing beside them, however, despite your best intentions, it often ends up hurting yourself, since you always internalize some of their issues. This wasn’t any different when a intergalactic murder time lady started traveling with you, Bill, Nardole and The Doctor.

You had analyzed Missy since the first time you entered the vault with Mr. Eyebrows - you definitely adore calling him that way, the eyebrows always grows frowny proving your point right - primarily, it was just part of your hobby, you loved study people’s personalities - it always helped to create amazing characters for your tales - but there was something about her, something that scary and attractive at the same time and you never were so intrigued. Slowly, piece by piece, observing from a distance every single detail about her, you started to finally understand bits of what's going on under those pale blue eyes.

The memory of Nardole’s panicked face when he saw Missy sitting comfortably on the TARDIS after your meet with the ninth legion flashed in your brain and it still makes you giggle, it wasn’t supposed to be funny, you were kinda scared in the moment as well, but his reaction and protests were really hilarious. Bill also tried to complain when she found out that the Time Lady would become a regular in the police box, but The Doctor promised that Missy wouldn’t kill any of you, and also the ship needed maintenance.

As time passed by, you couldn’t agree more with the Time Lady’s words, she was as much a prisoner here as she was on the vault, and defitinaly as lonely too. Missy spent hours immersed in maintenance work while you all rushed throughout the universe in inimaginable adventures, and when the TARDIS finally fills up again, none of you dare to initiate a friendly conversation with her or even just be alone in her presence, too afraid of her impressibility. Nonetheless, the intriguing mocking smile never left her lips, always ready to toy with any of you, and without a doubt, always ready to annoy the Time Lord. No one would dare to say, but all of you loved to see her messing with Mr. Eyebrows.

“Head in the clouds?” Bill asked sitting on your side, in the stairs of the console room.

“Kinda, was it that obvious?” You just hoped not to be a weirdo for too long.

“Looking at a random spot in the ground for hm… fifteen minutes? Yeah, very obvious, and knowing your eyes, you would probably stay like that for some hours”

“Sorry, sometimes I just wonder off, you know” You smiled shyly.

“I do” She smiled back “I also know that your best histories comes out when you are like this, and believe me, I would let you wander off for hours just to read whatever you would write, but a certain Time Lady was starting to stare at you way too much, so I had to save my beautiful writer from weeks of mocking”

“Oh, you are really my hero” You gave her an exaggerated hug that made you both lay down on the stairs, laughing.

“Nothing is for free sweetie, I want a new tale on my table by tomorrow” She teased.

“As you wish ma’am” You did a floppy continence to her order, and then, an idea crossed your mind.

“Are you okay?” She asked when you got suddenly serious.

“I think I just found a solution for something”

“What something?”

“You’ll see” You answer simply.

“Just stay out of trouble little girl” She talked with a warning voice.

“Considering where we are and who we travel with, I don’t think that would be rather possible”

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right” She admitted with a little chuckle while she stood up “I'm going to bed, try to go sleep soon as well, it was a tiring day”

“I’ll do my best, boss” She just showed you her tongue and left the room with a smile still dancing between her lips.

Books! Missy was always reading something to try free herself from boredom, it wasn’t unusual to find some bloody murder mystery novel around her, so the thought came to your mind, maybe, just maybe, you could try to help her through the characters, encourage her to be good and, with some luck, write something that she would really get excited about. Howbeit, you know it wouldn’t be so easy, the plot needed to be tricky, mysterious, unpredictable, and also, you needed her to wait between chapters while you write them - patience was definitely not among her qualities and because of it, she could get bored really easily - so why not put a password in the each file, leaving a little riddle for her to find out? That could be fun.

A week or so of planning and plotting has passed away and you started writing, thankfully it didn’t take long before two chapters were brought into life, although, you wanted to make sure that she was into your thread before finishing it all, so you began to ponder how to set the perfect bait. You waited until Missy and the Time Lord started their regular argument about some alien knowledge to sneak into the ship, fully aware that they would be busy for some hours and you wouldn’t get caught, you took one of the library's laptops and place it right in the middle of the central reading table, quickly transferring your files to the computer’s main workspace, aside it, you put a little printed note sticked to the screen with the words: In case of boredom. You knew it would trigger her curiosity, now you just have to wait.

Hours later, when you came back from another intergalactical adventure, you innocently decided to pick a book from the library just for the sake of bed entertainment, of course, and you glanced a little hand write on your sticked note: Pick harder riddles next time. She definitely was on it, and you almost couldn’t hide a little victorious smile crawling to your lips. You kept feeding her with new chapters almost every day with the same strategy, waiting for her to get distracted before you sneak into the place and every single night, after you write, you stood up for hours in front of the computer trying to come up with an even harder riddle. Were in one of these nights that you suddenly realized, nothing would be more challenging for her than riddles about earth’s history, she probably didn’t bother in researching any of it before since Missy despised the planet. It was perfect, and it actually worked.

Surely, even a terrestrial would have some problem solving your last one ’when the never setting sun empire had to apologize to the biggest lazio’s last flower’ but you didn’t expect to see one of the last of the Time Lords spend a whole three days in just one riddle. You could see by the little popped vein in her forehead how irritated she was for not finding the answer, however you didn’t dare to tease her about it or even talk about it at all, just allowed yourself to sense the little rewarding feeling taking over your chest.

On the fourth night, when you were walking towards your bedroom, after checking the Time Lady’s progress, you suddenly felt two arms smashing your body painfully against the corridor walls, and you didn’t have to look to know who it was, actually you were quite expecting this.

“What is the answer?” Missy demanded with furious eyes and an arm crushing your chest to the wall.

“Gave up already?” You don’t know where your courage was coming from.

“If I were you, I would turn all the mocking down, kitten, I’ve killed for much less than that” She placed a hand in your face roughly rubbing your cheek.

“You wouldn’t kill me”

“Why not? Did you forget? I’m bananas” She said very close to your face singing the last word.

“You wouldn’t do it because you’re too into the story to let it go, too curious, but also too stubborn to ask for a tip from a insignificant little human, especially a tip from the history of a equally insignificant planet, so all your ego allowed you to do was pin me to a wall and demand for a answer, that was the only way you would get what you want and still be in command” Her grip loosened a little bit, and you could see a hint of shock on her beautiful ice eyes, probably no one has ever read her like that “Or I’m just wrong and you’re bananas, of course” You smiled “Either way, I’m willing to give you a tip: Lazio is a italian region, its name refers to the latins, people from whom the Romans descended. Romans in its turn, had Latin as their official language and the vulgar version of it originated tons of others languages, the most recent creation, as people believe, is Portuguese, witch the largest speaking country is Brazil, also, last lazio’s flower is a metaphor used by a important brazilian writer, Olavo Bilac, in one of his famous poems to refers to his mother tongue”

“And how the hell I was supposed to know that?” Her teeth were clenched and her fingers were pressing your own jaw, not being gentle at all.

“You weren’t, that’s rather the point dear, but before you throw all your anger in tiny little me, you were the one who asked for harder riddles, and all the information were on the internet, you just needed to find the right track”

“That’s not harder, that’s just insignificant knowledge” She growned.

“I know, but that was the only area that I probably would had a little more knowledge then you, so why not take it as a learning opportunity?” Your heart was pumping on your chest, and the adrenaline was present all over your body. Suddenly, she redrew her hands from you.

“You’re interesting, pet, I’ll play your little game, but you better keep it high level, I get bored pretty easily you know, and you wouldn’t enjoy to talk with me like this when I’m not captivated, you might get kinda too dead”

“I do acknowledge your facility in get bored, Mistress, had this in mind since day one”

“Don’t get too arrogant, puppet, you don’t know so much of little old me as you might think”

“Or you’re too used to be the attention focus to realize that someone, in the corner, is actually observing and analysing you”

“Am I this important to you kitty cat? The Doctor might get a bit jealous” She raised a eyebrow teasefully.

“You’re intriguing, Missy, and as you can see, I love intriguing people, always a good inspiration to my characters”

“So you might want get a closer look” A smirk was growing in her lips as she got closer.

“I would, if you hadn’t a research to make, you’re four days late” You said as you placed your forefinger in her lips, pushing her back.

“You escaped this time baby girl, lets see for how long” the mischief was playing in her eyes.

“You might be a good flirt, but so am I” You winked at her and started to walk calmly to your previous destination.

“This will be definitely fun” Soon you heard her heels clicking quickly towards the library.

#missy x reader #missy/reader #missy doctor who x reader #the master x reader

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goblin-gardens · 3 years

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Summer Book Sprint!

I've mostly moved into my tiny house, but my wifi situation is not quite stable yet. So, instead of constantly streaming podcasts and shows (I got back into CR for EXU only to lose it again...) I've read more books this week than I have for all of 2020!

I feel like documenting this unusual productivity. So, here's what we've got so far. I started light with a fantasy/historical fiction and then a whole deluge of modern romcoms.

For each book I am recording: a) how many times did I cry? b) how queer is the story? c) was I compelled to be a goblin and stay up way too late or read at work when I should have been doing other down-time tasks like shelfreading the DVDs? d) overall rating out of 11 stars and e) do I recommend it and to whom?

Titles and ratings under the cut, so I don't decimate anyone's dash.

Written in the Stars by Alexandria Bellefleur

A cotton candy read, sweet and fluffy, quick and impermanent. Definitely fun, but this one didn't leave much of an impression on me tbh. Very online humor from Elle, I've definitely seen some of her jokes before as tumblr posts, and that didn't super work for me. It did manage to make me invested in reading about characters solving an escape room, so kudos there. I was excited by the blurbs calling it gay modern Pride & Prejudice..... it is NOT that, but it is good at what it is! Times Cried: 2. It does a good job of getting into the heads of the POV characters, and I definitely was rooting for them. Was It Queer: Yeah! Was I A Goblin: Not really. I was able to keep it in my bag until my lunch break without much issue. Overall: 6 stars out of 11. Fun, sexy, sweet, quickly over. Cotton candy, whipped cream, you get it. I'd recommend this to readers who: Think naming a character Darcy makes this a modern Pride & Prejudice?? (that is, like Darcy's roiling sexual frustration under his uptight demeanor more than his feudal land-lording skills). Were very online in 2015, but in a Pintrest way. Want a tall girl to make a spreadsheet and fuck them on it.

The Ex Talk by Rachel Lynn Solomon

I have Very Strong Opinions about my local NPR affiliate, so this was very fun for me. The sexist boss stuff was a little heavy-handed, and the Orcas Island bit and The Confession felt contrived enough to take me out of the story a little, but the characters were so well-built and compelling that I stuck it out for them. Times Cried: 1, but I did laugh a lot. Was It Queer: No. Was I A Goblin: Yes, I was almost late back from my lunch break because I had to read another chapter. Overall: 7 out of 11 stars. Clever setting, strong main characters, truly funny dialog. I'd recommend this to readers who: Would love to listen to a podcast about two exes giving relationship advice in real life. Love a good old-fashioned sexist man gets his comeuppance storyline. Have been personally victimized by public radio donation drives.

The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue by V. E. Schwab

Best book I read this week. Really well-handled magic that is revealed and explored in a very engaging way. I did think it was sort of silly that a practically immortal character would stay only in Europe/the US for 300 years, many of which had international flight, but that's more of a nitpick than a true plot hole. Times Cried: A chart-topping 7! Was It Queer: While both of the main characters are bi/pan, and there are a number of queer supporting characters..... the story does not feel very queer to me. It doesn't explore queerness or queer topics, it's just about characters who are queer. There were some missed chances, I guess, especially in the gender department. Was I A Goblin: I didn't even have a chance to take this to work, because I read it all in one sitting and went to bed after 1 because I couldn't put it down. Peak goblin behavior. Overall: 9 stars out of 11. Engaging, mysterious, interesting world and compelling characters. I'd recommend this to readers who: Want art history courses that are just juicy gossip about the lives of Renaissance painters. Think lawyers are sexy when they find loopholes in copyright contracts. Are monsterfuckers but in the straight way, where they love an attractive white man who sometimes turns into smoke and mostly because they want to be special to him when he's Capital E Evil to everyone else.

Red, White, and Royal Blue by Casey McQuinston

Turns out, books that get fantastic ratings from both big-name publications and the bookblrs I follow tend to be very good! A great cast of characters, heart-string pulling love letters, dramatic speeches... this has got it all. Times Cried: 4. Add Henry to the list of fictional characters I need to hug and make hot cocoa for. Was It Queer: Hell yeah! Was I A Goblin: Oh, absolutely. Overall: 9 out of 11 stars. Honestly just a joy to read. Engaging start, darling middle, uplifting end. I'd recommend this to readers who: Think West Wing should get a sexy reboot with a younger, queerer cast. Appreciate the value of an annotated bibliography when sexting. Love a good supportive sibling dynamic.

First Comes Like by Alisha Rai This fake-dating drama just keeps escalating, but in an authentic and easy way. The side characters feel a little under-utilized, but only because there's so many and each one is interesting. Times Cried: 1. Mostly I was having too good a time! Was It Queer: Not as a focus. Was I A Goblin: Yes indeed. Overall: 7 out of 11 stars. Funny, fast-paced and full of twists. I'd recommend this to readers who: Think the sexiest things a man can do are respect women and be a good dad. Loves sisters loving sisters. Figure if they've dug themselves a hole, they might as well keep going till they hit gold.

#books!#personal #book review #in the loosest sense of the word #summer book sprint

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banashee · 3 years

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i"I have way too many stories already planned" I said. “I can’t write in multiple fandoms at once, it will throw me off” I said. “OK so I’ll just get this out of my system real quick” I said. “Well shit, I’ve gotten more ideas now that I’ve started…” I said, determinded to face it - I have a problem. Just a small one… Who am I kidding. Send help.

Also, this is the first time I’ve written for this fandom. I’ve loved and enjoyed TMA for a while now, not just the pod but also fanworks. And now I’m joining in on the fun and you folks will have to deal with it :D ♥

This story got inspired by a conversation on Reddit with Swiftysmoon. Thank you very much for the inspo! This one is for you :)

edit. sorry about the missing ReadMore cut, Tumblr is programmed like a pile of garbage and removed it after I edited a typo...I’ve added it back in now.

please mind the tags and warnings

Into the Void

Truth be told, Jon never planned on this to happen. Of course not - it is ridiculous and more than a little embarrassing, but he can’t help himself.

See, the thing is, Jon is a restless, anxious person in general. He’ll hide away in his office for hours, typing away or recording statements in solitude, only interrupted when someone actually wants something from him. That, or when Martin brings him yet another cup of tea, checking if he’s still alive or starved to death on his desk.

No kidding - Martin had told him this, once, and although he’d been half-joking at the time, the underlying message had been very clear.

‘Please take care of yourself, you worry me.’ - it had been oddly sweet, and Jon still has no idea how to even react to this kindness.

But the thing is - Jon has nervous habits. While his mind is wandering and he is buried neck-deep in his work, he tends to fiddle. Mostly with pens, or anything else he can reach on his desk. That would be fine - no one notices it, unless they stand right next to him. But Jon had almost choked on the pen he’d been chewing on, lost in thoughts while reading his notes, omn more than one occasion. Mostly thanks to Tim bursting into the room like the whirlwind he is.

For one, Tim Stoker just doesn’t knock. Ever. He enters a room as loud and cheerful as he does anything else, and it can be a bit unnerving. Still, he somehow manages to be a professional and be really good at his job. That and the fact that there is ‘Chaos’ written all over him makes for an odd combination sometimes, but they’re all somewhat used to this.

So, when Tim suddenly sticks his head into the room with a cheerfully casual

“Hey, Boss!”

Jon startles and nearly stabs himself in the throat with a pen while he scrambles to make it look like he didn’t chew on it the entire time. He needs to preserve some sort of professionalism around here, even though he feels a little bit lost sometimes.

He glares halfheartedly, trying to keep whatever is left of his composure in place. Tim shoots him a bright smile with finger guns, then he rattles off the information that Jon had asked him for not long ago.

Thankful that he doesn’t have to explain himself, Jon launches onto it.

As time goes on, things around the institute get more and more weird. One thing adds to the other, and suddenly, they’re at war against worms all over the place. They spend their days at the institute armed with fire extinguishers and in Martin’s case, a corkscrew. Martin even lives there now, which adds a whole different level to it all.

Really, it is not surprising that they rarely ever get any outside visitors down in the archives. They have a bit of a reputation for being weird, and truth be told, Jon can’t find any fault in the people who assume that. If he wasn’t involved - if he didn’t know what lurks out there, in the shadows, he’d have thought the same.

Pushing his own dismissive, sceptic act is getting harder and harder these days, but it doesn’t stop Jon from trying.

Even after Jane Prentiss’ attack, Jon tries to keep up that act. It’s clearly faltering now, though, which may or may not be partially due to the fact that he confessed to Martin that yes, he does believe and he is terrified. It’s been an awkward conversation, to say the least, and not just because Jon pretty much asked if Martin was a ghost and despite Martin stabbing him with the corkscrew. To be fair, he’d apologized profusely for that, and while Jon is not happy about it, he is thankful for his attempt to get the damn worms out of him. Just thinking about it still makes him shudder, makes him lay awake at night.

On the plus side, their team in the archives has grown much closer to one another - it eases the anxiety and paranoia, just a bit.

Jon finds himself busy, not to say, utterly distracted. Time flies, and he takes even less care of himself than he did before. He practically lives off tea, and whatever food is offered where Martin, Tim and Sasha drag him along to.

Jon acts prickly and annoyed as always, but in reality, he appreciates their efforts. Lord knows, he isn’t sure he deserves this kindness, but he still makes an effort. These three people are all he’s got, after all. They’re the only group of allies who have any sort of idea what is really going on in the archives, and that alone is enough to have him lower his walls just a bit.

One day, Jon keeps blowing an annoying, grey-streaked strand of his otherwise dark hair out of his face. He didn’t have the time or energy to get a haircut lately - there are much more pressing matters to take care of. But his hair is currently at the awkward in-between length that he hated years ago, when he decided to grow it out. He’d kept it long, up until shortly before his promotion to head archivist. Only then he parted with the shoulder length ponytail in an attempt to be perceived as more professional.

It doesn’t feel right - never did. And as much as he hates the annoying strands falling in his face, it makes him feel like he is back on the way to himself. Or at least as much as he can these days.

Especially in the face of, well, everything else, it is a small comfort. Right now though, Jon is annoyed - he takes a pen from his desk, and sticks it behind his ear to hold back the constantly falling piece of hair - it works.

Jon only notices the pen again when he is about to go to bed that night - he huffs, places it onto the small desk in his bedroom and then crawls under the covers. Once he is in bed, Jon is waiting for the insomnia and the nightmares to keep him awake, despite his best attempts to fall asleep.

He is long used to both, but the last few months have been significantly more stressful.

The next day, Jon is exhausted. He barely makes it into the kitchen for some coffee, then he drives to the institute, the pen forgotten back home. Oh well - he’ll bring it back in another day - no big deal.

Except, it becomes a Thing, with a capital T.

Jon is chewing on and fumbling with his pens as usual, recording statement after statement and doesn’t exactly realize what he is doing. He hides away, until one of the others drags him away from the desk for inconvenient human needs like food and company, but really, he goes willingly now. All he needs is a small reminder.

The bit of human warmth and company means a lot to Jon, and he soaks it up as much as he allows himself to. Trusting people is a struggle for him. His relationship with each and every coworker is definitely a work in progress, but he is willing to try, anyway.

One night, Martin points to the side of Jon’s neck in quiet amusement.

“Oh, you’ve got ink on you - yes, right there.” he touches the spot behind his own ear. Jon blinks, and when he tries to wipe it away, his hand comes away with yet another goddamn pen.

It joins a small pile of accidentally stolen pens on Jon’s desk back home - he’s been meaning to bring them back ages ago, but he keeps forgetting. At this point, he refuses to drop them all off at once, because that would definitely catch someone’s attention - and attention is the last thing he wants right now. Add in the fact that this is, well, ridiculous and embarrassing… No. Just no.

Jon looks around the room, heat creeping up his face even though there is no one around to look at and judge him - then he opens an empty drawer in his desk. The pens disappear with one swift movement of his arm before Jon slams the drawer shut. There - done.

And this is how, what Jon secretly calls his “Desk Drawer of Shame”, comes into existence.

Occasionally, a small handful of pens will make its way back into the archives. But at this point, they’re way, way too many to bring back at once, at least not without pissing off Elias. That is, if he isn’t chuckling at the ridiculous and mysteriously high cost of office supplies in the last few months.

At the very least, Jon would be at the receiving end of some good natured ribbing from his coworkers in the foreseeable future.

Jon is reading the last few lines of a statement, when the door to his office opens up after a quick knock. He looks up with a frown, which is more habit than anything at this point, and quickly drops his feet back on the ground. At least, he isn’t chewing on a pen this time.

Standing in the doorway, shooting him a small smile, is Martin and he is waiting for Jon to finish recording the last few lines. Only when the familiar

“Statement ends.” marks the end of the recording session, he starts talking.

“Hi! Uh, did you have lunch yet?”

Jon didn’t, and Martin knows it, but he is trying to go the polite route before his motherhen-mode is activated and he physically drags the man away from the desk in an attempt to make him take a break.

So, Jon smiles back, which still feels a bit foreign in a work context, but he secretly enjoys the spark of happiness on Martin’s face when he does. Not like he focuses on that or anything…

“No, I- I didn’t. Did you have something in mind?” he asks as he gets up and pulls his jacket from the back of his chair. It’s a welcome distraction from his work.

Jon didn’t sleep, again, and he can tell that he is getting sloppy and way more irritable than usual. Chances are, getting a bite to eat and spending some time out of the institute with a friend will do him some good.

On the way out, Jon falls comfortably into step with Martin. Plenty of thoughts cross his mind, and he chooses to ignore all of them. In fact, he’d been so busy staring up at a cluster of freckles on Martin’s cheek that he doesn’t even notice what he tells him about the little café that he was planning to visit. Only when he stops talking, obviously waiting for an answer, Jon nods, hoping that Martin actually asked him a yes-or-no question.

For now, it seems to be enough, and they enjoy their lunch break. Jon is still lost in thoughts though.

That night, he is unable to sleep once again, as his mind keeps him wide awake and Jon is shaking apart under the blanket. There are two new pens on his desk, and it feels like they’re glaring at him. It’s ridiculous - they really are the least of his worries. Jon is just distracted, that’s all.

There is ink on his neck. Again. Jon swipes at it in mild annoyance, inwardly cursing himself for being so careless. His movement catches Tim’s attention, and then his eyes wander to the pen that is stuck halfway to Jon’s ponytail - it’s for convenience, really - but it’s clearly the cause for the ink scribbles on his skin.

Tim puts the pieces together and grins. He is way too easily amused about this, but to be fair, they get their laughs whenever they can these days. And this is still much better than the silent, angry version of Tim that tends to come out more and more and the last few months. At least, when he’s laughing, he isn’t that.

Small favors.

The more distracted Jon grows, and the longer his hair gets, the more pens he keeps losing - or more like, forgetting - in it.

He doesn’t realize that he is doing it, really, until someone - mostly Martin or Tim these days, because Sasha is (gone) (different ) absent - walks up and plucks one of the pens right out of his hair in order to use it. Jon should be annoyed, but he can’t bring himself to be. It’s oddly comforting that the two of them are still willing to seek him out. Because that’s what this is - there are plenty of pens around, of course.

There is no need to come into his office, to come close to him just to get office supplies. They’re here because they want to, and that honestly means the world to Jon.

As much as he’d tried to keep them at arm’s length, he’s failed miserably. Thankfully so - things would be much, much worse if they had to deal with everything on their own.

“Hang on - how many bloody pens are in there?” Martin asks one day, calling over from the other room. He looks up in utter confusion while already cracking up with laughter.

“Wait, are those-?”

Oh goddammit.

Apparently, that’s what happens when Jon answers absentmindedly when asked for the location of a pen in his apartment.

He needs to renovate his kitchen, because the landlord just won’t do it in any reasonable amount of time, so Jon is in old jeans and an even older T-shirt, packing dishes and kitchenware into boxes with Martin and Tim. The two of them had been kind enough to offer help, so that’s why they’re all piled in Jon’s small apartment on a Saturday morning.

Partway through, they realize that they should probably label the boxes, and soon after, Martin stands in the bedroom, opening not the stationary drawer, but The Secret Drawer of Shame With Accidentally Stolen Pens From The Institute.

“Oh, good lord.” With an audible ‘thump’, Jons forehead collides with the kitchen table. His glasses sit crooked now, and he doesn’t lift his head up while he tries to explain, and despite being flustered, he manages to keep that certain tone of voice that’s usually reserved for work hours.

“I, yes. I may have accidentally taken a pen or two with me and only realized it here. Coming back into work with all of them at once seemed… well. Not ideal at the time.”

“No wonder when you keep storing them in your hair.” Martin comes back, with a handful of pens and a bright smile.

While walking past, he pulls another pen out of Jon’s bun, just to prove his point. A long strand of hair slips forward and falls back into Jon’s face. Meanwhile, Tim has snuck off to peek into the other room out of pure curiosity, then he proceeds to laugh his arse off for the next few minutes.

“You know, we should make it a sport at this point. How much stationary supplies can we steal until Elias catches wind of it?” Tim offers, because of course he does.

It is ridiculous and childish, so naturally, it quickly becomes A Thing.

Anything to get a tiny bit of satisfaction is a valid option at this point, and besides, it’s not like Jon is trying to be sneaky or anything. It just happens , like so many things these days.

As it turns out, Elias doesn’t care. None of them is stupid enough to assume he doesn’t know - the bastard knows everything, that’s part of their problem. He just never calls any of them out on it - if it is because it’s too unimportant or if he is getting a chuckle out of it as well, they never find out.

At some point, late at night when all three of them had a few drinks, they’re brave enough to joke about what fear entity would be responsible for a never ending void filled with pens (“A.K.A you desk drawer of shame, Jon. Have another drink, you’re annoyingly sober for this conversation.”)

It’s a half-serious debate, and one which they continue every once in a while. Most notably so at the institute’s christmas party, huddled in a corner where they’re mostly being left alone. And if that is mostly due to Jon glaring holes through anyone daring to come close, just a hair away from actually hissing and snarling, well. He didn’t get his reputation of being rude and prickly for nothing.

All of this turns into fond memories, once everything has gone to hell.

Jon is freshly awake from six months of coma, and the world around him has changed. Martin is barely around and Tim is dead . So is Sasha, even though they never knew, for the longest time.

All of this hurts badly enough to stop him from breathing every once in a while, and after a series of even more tangled and unfortunate events, Jon finds himself huddled close to Martin on a train.

They’re on their way to Scotland and neither of them talks much, but they’re unwilling to let go of the other’s hand. The air is chilly, even inside the wagon, and Martin is still shivering under layers of jumpers and jackets.

The Lonely has settled deep into his bones, and sometimes, it’s like he is fading away again. Every time this happens, the steady warmth of Jon keeps pulling him back.

Jons hand is smaller and bonier in Martin’s own large, soft hand, but it’s grip is steady and warm. His thumb keeps stroking gently over the back of his hand while he is holding it, and it is the most loved Martin has felt in a long time.

Eventually, he manages to relax enough to doze off for a bit. While his head find’s it’s way down and onto Jon’s shoulder, he can feel the slight poke of a plastic pen that is sticking out of his hair.

Martin almost smiles, and squeezes back when Jon tightens the grip around his hand and settles against him.

They keep finding the damn things around the safehouse, because frankly, they’re everywhere. And that’s just whatever Jon had on his person out of sheer habit. Lord knows, his hair has grown way past his shoulders by now, and more often than not, he keeps it up and out of the way with whatever is around him at the time.

Mostly, it’s pens.

At first, they’re just there , and both Jon and Martin have about a million other things to think of and to deal with than a few too many office supplies laying around.

The exhaustion, both physically and emotionally, leaves them absolutely drained and dead to the world.

It is bad enough so that they crawl into bed almost as soon as they have arrived and inspected the small cabin. The question of whether or not they’re going to share the bed isn’t even raised - neither of them is willing to let go of the other. All the way from London to up here, they’d held hands to reassure themselves that they wouldn’t lose each other, and they’re not about to stop now.

It is a lot easier to remind each other that they’re not alone when all they need to do is focus on the breath and heartbeat of one another. Focusing on the heat radiating under the blankets, where they are embracing throughout the night to keep the nightmares and the ever growing anxiety at bay.

They have plenty of bad days when everything just creeps up at them and even talking is too much. Those days, they spend curled up in front of the fire or in bed, holding on tight for as long as they need to in order to feel more alive again.

After a while, they’re able to relax more. Martin is much warmer and solid now, doesn’t fade away into the fog without noticing. It’s happening less and less now - whether or not he will be able to shake off The Lonely entirely, neither of them knows, but he is happy about every step in the other direction.

Jon is just as happy to see him doing better, and he tells him as much over breakfast, smiling as he tangles their legs under the table.

There are two pens already stuck in his hair, holding it up in two buns. It’s probably from when he read a statement from the stack of files and tapes that Basira sent over the other day.

The statement has definitely taken the edge off of things for Jon. Now he can sit at the kitchen table with his boyfriend and enjoy a cup of tea instead of growing weaker and weaker with hunger for statements. As ironic as it is, it makes him feel more human, even though he is no longer fully human. He’s pretty sure of it.

“I love you.” Martin tells him, because it is true and he likes saying it as often as possible, now that he can. It sends a spark of warm happiness through his chest, and it is bright enough to chase away the cold fog that’s still lingering sometimes - just for a bit.

“I love you, too.”

He’ll never get tired of hearing this.

“I love you” they say, as they drink tea in the morning and eat freshly baked bread, still warm from the oven.

“I love you” they say, as they walk hand in hand through the cobblestone streets down in the village, on their way to buy groceries and look at the little local shops.

“I love you” they say, as they step around each other in the tiny kitchen while cooking dinner, distracting one another with kisses until one of them remembers the food or notices the charred smell of something burning. It’s only then that they break apart, cursing and laughing all at once.

“I love you” they say, as they spend nights wide awake, holding on tightly through their grief and fear. They say it out loud or whisper it into the darkness, comforting one another as best as they can.

“I love you”, they whisper through silence and tears, but they say it just as much through smiles and laughter.

“I love you” they say, after every single argument. Their love for each other is strong, so much so that they’re certain they will be able to figure out the rest. Whether that’s the end of the world as they know it or anything else doesn’t matter.

“I love you” Martin says, after he walks up behind Jon and plucks one of the pens out of his hair. There are at least two more, and besides, Martin woke up this morning with a few lines of poetry in the back of his mind. He wants to write them down before he forgets - maybe, just maybe, he can turn them into something beautiful.

“I love you.” Jon says, and he pulls Martin closer by the front of his pyjama shirt, turning around just enough to be able to press a quick kiss to his lips. The movement leaves them both in an awkward position, hanging over the back of the sofa with their glasses askew.

Martin has one of his arms wrapped around Jon, who is holding on tight, happily leaning into him with a quiet, happy satisfaction on his face. Clearly, he is enjoying this an awful lot.

No doubt, if it wasn’t for the hold onto the sofa Martin has with his other, he’d have toppled over and fallen right into the smaller man’s lap. And maybe that’s exactly what Jon is trying to do - who knows. He is way more affectionate than either of them would have thought possible, really.

They remain wrapped up in the tight hug, and neither of them wants to let go yet.

Notes:

Warnings: - Off-screen canon character death mentioned - insecurity - Loneliness - Trust issues - if you want me to add anything please let me know

#banashee writes #tma fanfic #the magnus archives #the magnus archives fanfic #JonMartin #mentioned character death

5 notes · View notes

eleanorbloom · 4 years

Text

Somethin’ Stupid (Ethan Ramsey x f!MC)

Title: Somethin’ Stupid

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x f!MC (Antonella Valentini)

Warnings: Adult language.

Word count. 3.2k

A/N: So, this is my first songfic ever. And the first time I do a one-shot here on Tumblr. I know someday I’ll write something not song-related haha

The other day while I was doing the dishes, this song played on my shuffle and I had the idea to do this (Robbie Williams and Nicole Kidman version, if you ask). I know songfics aren’t everyone’s cup of tea, but what I found interesting about this song is that has a decent amount of lyrics and fits well with the narration. So here I am.

This is veeery light version of Ethan Ramsey, but just because he's under the effects of alcohol. I love angsty Ethan but I was feeling a bit self-indulgent so I wrote him a bit less serious. Hope you enjoy!

I apologize for any mistakes, English's not my first language.

Hope you enjoy it!

_______________________________

I make my entry to the Renaissance Boston Waterfront Hotel. Tonight, Edenbrook is holding a Farewell Dinner for Harper Emery, as she leaves her position as Chief of Medicine at Edenbrook and we receive Naveen Banerji in her place.

I have one thing in mind for tonight. Something I’ve been denying for months. And these past weeks more than ever. I wanted, I really wanted to put distance but is too fucking hard when is Antonella Valentini we are talking about. I can’t resist that woman. Her long copper hair, the sensual waves that she uses to control with a ponytail (and that have put perverted thoughts in my mind more times than I’m willing to admit); her green emerald eyes; his beautiful and rounded lips, always rosy like bubble gum… And sweet like a bubble gum if I may say.

I have tried to stay away from her. But it’s very difficult when you have to see her six days a week and to interact at least four times a day. And even if she tries to stay away from me, because I begged her to keep a civilized relationship after what happened between us; it’s so really difficult just seeing her in the eyes. Just see her jewels shining towards me.

Because just smelling the grapefruit blossoming in her neck makes my stomach quiver. And as if Naveen had X-ray powers, he knows how bad my stomach quivers every time I see her. He knows how difficult it is for me to stay away from her, even when he has encouraged me to take things to next level. As a friend and as my boss, he is pressing me to let my relationship with Valentini to blossom just like the tulips in spring.

“Naveen, I cannot be in a relationship when I’m her supervisor. I’m an attending and she is a resident, and I’ll be her boss once she starts working in the Diagnostics Team” I told him the last time he suggested that idea.

“So? I really don’t see the problem there.”

“Everyone is gonna question her position there, they’ll think she earned the position because she slept with the responsible for the selection, that her number one spot wasn’t such.”

“Did you forget that I selected her as Junior Fellow, Ethan? Mostly because she saved my life. She found a cure neither the best nor the second-best diagnostician in the USA could do. That’s not enough reason?”

“Of course, because we know the truth, but what about those who don’t know?”

“You’ll tell them to go to hell, as you do as usual.”

“What about the Board?”

“What about the Board? There’s no rule against attending-intern relationships, the only consequence is that you can’t evaluate her.”

“Mhmm yes, I know.”

“But you could keep an eye on her. Supervising her indirectly. I would take charge of the evaluations you are supposed to do, if you don’t want to deal with another attending to keep an eye on her.”

“You… You would do that?”

“Yes. As long as you stop pushing her away, I will. . You deserve to be together. Now, not in three years. There is no time to lose, my friend.”

My mind raced a million miles per hour until I finally convinced myself that it was the right thing to do. Naveen would always support me to give the impartial note in this. If we had an important disagreement, he, as Chief, would intervene. If I couldn’t evaluate her, Naveen would do it himself.

I was tired of pushing her away. I was tired of ending my days without her. I was tired of beginning my days without seeing her emeralds on my blue skies. I had lived 36 years without taking risks. Always acting profusely calculated. I was done with that. She’s worth every sacrifice I must do to be with her.

And now, I was entering the Ballroom.

I had the first-class table, obviously. I sit with Harper, Naveen, the Board Directors, even the Mayor of Boston and his wife. A few tables away, there she is, having a good time with her friends and an insufferable scalpel jockey that always seemed too touchy-feely with her to my liking.

Once the dinner’s over, all guests stand up from their seats. Some to have a drink, others to mingling, and others to go to the dance floor. I see her approaching the dance floor, and by the time I’m there, she’s dancing with her friends, laughing and making some jokes.

I know I stand in line until you think you have the time to spend an evening with me.

I go for a scotch. I can’t do what I have in mind sober. I’m so fucking anxious and scared. Like a teenager. And even as a teenager I never felt this nervous.

An hour later, after bearing chitchat with some colleagues and other annoying people, I start to look for her again. And there she is. In the arms of that silly scalpel jockey that had nothing but a doll face, and even if he seems okay, he’ll always be a scalpel jockey to me. He had his hands on his waist while dancing an upbeat song.

Then a salsa starts, and he slides his hand through her entire body. How bold of that bastard. While they move to the sound of that Latin beat, his hands are tracing all her back, her waist, and his hips, slightly crossing the line to her bum. How dare he?

I drink my scotch in one sip and I approach them, feeling my head heavy and hot.

“May I have this dance, Dr. Valentini?”

Antonella turns to me a little surprised.

“You know how to dance salsa?” She inquires, playfully.

“Not so well, but I’m sure I can follow your steps.”

“Is fine by me” Antonella winks at Lahela with a smirk in her mouth. “Vamos a rumbear, Dr. Ramsey” She answers as she takes my hands. (T: Let’s go dancing, Dr. Ramsey)

“I didn’t know you speak Spanish”

“All my family, except my paternal grandfather, are Latinos. Mexico, Cuba, Puerto Rico. My grandad’s from Italy.”—She explains as she starts to make her moves.

One foot going forward, then the other. Then one foot to the right, then the other to the left, alternating while she waves her hips. And I have to go the other way around. If she’s going forward with her left foot, I have to go backward with my right one, and so.

“So I grew up in a Latino community back in New York. That’s why I know cómo rumbear. Salsa, Rumba, a little of Merengue, Bachata.”

“Mmm yes. I see. You were teaching Lahela como rumbear?” I ask trying to stay focused. But her hips just waving, swinging, and rocking against me when I pull her closer is just killing me. To look like an Irish queen, she moves her body like a Latina goddess.

“Nah, I’ve already taught him. We should probably practice for the next level, but I think it’s not suitable for a doctor’s dinner.”

My blood starts to boil just at the thought of her doing sexy dances in salsa clubs, her back against his chest. Their bodies flushed. He going handsy. No, no. No fucking way.

And if we go some place to dance, I know that there’s a chance you won’t be leaving with me.

“Are you dating Lahela?”

“Quite a very intimate question Dr. Ramsey. Didn’t know attendings were so nosy.”

I know she’s teasing me. Not reflecting the question. But still, it’s killing me.

“Just curiosity. It has always been a mystery to me what’s your deal with him. You seem very confident with each other to be just friends, but I have never seen you doing something more than dance.”

“That’s because we don’t want anyone to know. We want people to wonder. Just as you, now. Leave it as a mystery”

“So you two are not”

“Why do you tell?”

“It’s just a game to you. You both enjoy make people wonder, that’s all.”

“Maybe. It bothers you?”

“Maybe”

“Why?”

“He’s a scalpel jockey, you could do so much better.”

“How yeah, how so?”

“Someone less shallow, more into your interests, your sharp mind.”

“Who says he’s not into it? We share interests in music, dancing, adventures. He has brains, you know? How do you think he made up to be Harper Emery’s favorite intern just after three weeks from her return to the OR?”

She’s defending him. Oh. My. Good. Lord. Don’t tell me she has fallen for him already.

“Brain to move his hands. I don’t think he could use his brain to anything else. Make it work to find solutions.”

“I still don’t see the point of keep talking about him.” She asks, trying to hide how upset she feels about my words—"I think we should leave this dance…”

“Of course not”

I press her against my body. I won’t risk my chance. He could leave with him tonight, and I won’t let that happen.

“Let’s change the topic then.” She says, a little more serious, looking right into my eyes.

“If you insist” I concede while I pull away from her to trace her body “You look beautiful tonight”

I look at her and her face reveals that she didn’t expect that. But how could I not notice how beautiful she’s looking in that emerald dress that matched her eyes so well? Or the cleavage it had in the middle of her chest, or how delicately highlighted was her waist?”

“Thank you”

“Emerald with ginger hair is a safe combination, but you look regal.”

“Wow. I think we should call an ambulance”

“Why?”

“Someone poisoned your drink. There’s no way you would compliment me like that just with scotch, your brain must be numbed.”

“I might have a few scotches on me, yes. But I’m lucid.”

“So lucid that tomorrow you won’t deny that you called me beautiful tonight?”

“I won’t. As I won’t deny the other things I might tell you later.”

I see her gulping. Her cheeks flushing, her grip quivering and then tensing.

“Ethan…”

“I’m thirsty, why don’t we go have a drink somewhere quieter?”

“Y…Yeah, sure” She agrees, her voice still quivering a bit.

I take her by the waist and we move towards the bar, ignoring all the curious glances from the attendees.

“Double scotch, neat. You, Rookie?”

“Mojito Cubano, please”

“I never saw you drink a Mojito before”

“It’s not like you have seen me drink too much to know my drinking habits. I don’t stick with one drink. I choose my drink based on my mood.”

“And the mojito what is for?”

“Freshen up.”

I raised an eyebrow

“I’ve been dancing for more than an hour. The body needs hydration”

“That’s what they teach you at Columbia? That to combat dehydration you should drink alcohol?”

“Don’t be a boomer, Ethan. I want a drink to keep having fun. And you won’t ruin my mood by ranting me for my hydration choice”

I smirk as I take a sip of my scotch. A few moments later she receives her Mojito. She took a sip with the straw.

“Mmmm this tastes so good. I’m gonna have like three of this, minimum.”

“Watch out, Rookie, your patients tomorrow are not expecting you to show them how much you drank tonight.”

“It’s my day off tomorrow, that’s why I’m drinking like there’s no tomorrow, cause, literally, there’s no tomorrow for me.”

Her words sound sticky, slow. She’s tipsy but she looks happy, and I love seeing her happy.

Then afterwards we drop into a quiet little place and have a drink or two

I guide her out of the ballroom. There’s a window at the end of the hallway. We stand there. It shows Boston City from above. The lights of the city glistening like the freckles on her face.

Suddenly I hear her laugh.

“What is so funny?”

“I remembered Miami. How quiet it felt that night. The sea, the breeze. Just as now.”

“There’s no sea, no breeze”

“I know. But we have a great view and alcohol. What are you gonna say now? I never took chances, blablabla, I don’t gamble.” She mumbles, trying to fake my tone and the seriousness in my way of speak.

Funny thing is, the conversation I want to have with her it’s not much different from what it was in Miami. About taking chances, about falling for her. But now I wanted to make things right. Not recoil after telling her how I feel about her.

Was it the right time? Maybe she’s more than tipsy, and everything I say she might not remember it tomorrow. But how do I start? Why she wasn’t even looking for contact? She’s not even looking at me. When she used to look for me all the time. To try to kiss me when we were alone…Am I actually late? Is she with Lahela for real?”

“Even if it’s quiet here, I hear your brain hammering with questions. What’s bothering you?”

“I’m still wondering if you’re dating Lahela” I confess before I could stop myself from saying the most stupid and out of place question I’ve ever said.

“Why do you care so much what I do or what I don’t do with Bryce?”

“I…”

“I’m a single woman, I can mess around with whoever the fuck I want and I don’t have to explain myself to anybody.”

“I know. I’m not judging you, it’s just a question.”

“Even if you were judging me, I couldn’t care less what do you think of me. I only respond to me. You lost the right to ask about my personal life the moment you said we couldn’t be together.”

“You’re righ-.”

“Why you can’t just let me be happy? Why at the slightest indication of me being happy, doing my life, you come here as you have some right on me and you start making questions, wonder what I do with Bryce…”

“It’s not that, Antonella. I’m…”I’m just bloody jealous, but I can’t tell her that. or should I?” I just want to make sure you’re happy and being treated well.”

“Bullshit”

“It’s true. I…”

I see her taking a sip directly from the glass and not from the straw.

“Budshet” She insists, her mouth full of crashed ice.—”And I have no time for more bullshit, bye.”

I see her turn away toward the ballroom. A take a few large steps and I grab her by the wrist.

“Please don’t go”

“Leave me alone!” I could say she’s reacting that way because of the alcohol. In a normal situation, she wouldn’t yell at me like that, but I don’t mind. It’s just the two of us in the hallway, anyway.”I’m done with your bullshit, Ramsey. You say one thing, then you act the other way, asking personal questions as if I owed yo-“

“I love you” I confess. Her eyes open in surprise. There’s panic, disbelief. “I love you, Antonella.”

And then I go and spoil it all by saying somethin’ stupid like, “I love you”

I cup my hand on her cheeks, looking at her expectantly. She closes her eyes at my touch. Our lips meet. A soft breeze until she pulls me away.

“So what? You’re gonna say all that and kiss me because you’re drunk and tomorrow you’ll make as nothing’s happened and you’ll ignore me like before? No. I’m not stupid to go through this again”

I can see it in your eyes, that you despise the same old lies you heard the night before

I could see her pain, her fear. And I couldn’t help but understand the way she was acting now. Protecting herself from being hurt again by me.

“This is different, Rookie. This isn’t going to be as in Miami, where I confessed and then I felt guilty and I ended up everything before if get more serious.I love you and I wanna be with you, Val”

And though it’s just a line to you, for me it’s true, and never seemed so right before

“I don’t believe you. Why would you want that when things are so complicated?”

“I don’t care anymore. If it’s complicated or unethical by my standards. I want to be with you, Antonella. Every day without you is agony. It’s like depriving myself of air.”

“Ethan…”

“I talked to Banerji, he supports me, he has a way to be together without jeopardizing your career”

I practice every day to find some clever lines to say to make the meaning come true

I’d been thinking the whole evening about how I can tell her my feelings. What I want. What we could have. But I never considered that she might not want the same.

“I’m sorry it took me this long. That I pushed you away after we showed how we really felt about each other. I could’ve handled the situation better. But now I’m here trying to fix this.”

She was speechless. Her mind racing a rapidly, I could almost hear her brain hammering, just as she could hear mine.

But then I think I’ll wait until the evening gets late, and I’m alone with you

She places her hand on my chest and then she encircled her arms around my neck. I could smell the fresh scent of mint in her breath and the citric notes of her perfume feeling glorious on her neck, exuding hormones, her womanhood at the feeling of my body against hers.

The time is right, your perfume fills my head, the stars get red, and, oh, the night’s so blue

“Ethan, are you serious? Real talk?”

“I am. This is the end of me running away. If you let me, this is the night for us to start.”

“Us?”

“I think we have to call an ambulance; someone poisoned your drink. You are having a hard time understanding what I want.”

“It’s not that I’m not understanding. I want you to tell me. Straight away. Leaving no doubts. You have to fight for it.”

“What can be more clear than an ‘I love you’, Valentini?”

And then I go and spoil it all by saying somethin’ stupid like, “I love you”

“It’s not clear what are your intentions with me. I could tell that you have loved me for a while, but that hasn’t stopped you from pushing me away. Loving me doesn’t mean anything. If you want something from me, you have to earn it.”

Okay, Rookie, if that’s how you’re playing, let’s do this. I’m up for everything tonight. I don’t’ mind. I was feeling a teenager before I put a foot on this place. What does another teenager act do, when I’ve been acting like one the entire night? It was insignificantly easy compared to what I had done before. A piece of cake.

“Antonella Valentini, do you wanna be my girlfriend?”

Her eyes are filled with shock, then tears, and joy. Her cheeks flush. It was like all the alcohol left her body. She looked sober. Soberer than when she was actually sober. She hangs herself from my neck. I took her by the waist as soon as possible and I lift her.

“Yes. Yes! I wanna be your girlfriend, Ethan Ramsey.”

She kisses me sweetly in the lips. God. She’s amazing. The sweetest human being in the entire world. Then she pulls away.

“I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you.” She whispers before coming back to me again. This time, to not leave me for eternity.

________

#Ethan Ramsey #Open Heart #Choices #Choices Stories You Play #ethan x mc #ethan x casey #ethan x you #ethan x f!mc #oh choices #open heart choices #open heart fanfiction #op

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deadontheinsidebut · 4 years

Text

You’re my boss? Part 1

Pairing: Bokuto x fem!reader

au: Bokuto is the head of a big company in Japan and his serious and professional demeanor is able to stop anyone in their tracks. You end up promoted to his personal assistant and he’s immediately entranced by you. What happens when he shows you a side that’s not so serious. How will you react?

Genre: fluff but also suggestive nsfw and a whole lot of spice I guess :) throughout the series

Disclaimer: hi guys this is just part 1 and the Bokuto you know and love from Haikyuu will pop out soon!! :)))) we’ll go more in depth with this Bokuto’s backstory in part 2 so stay tuned.

Your life would soon be changed forever. After being promoted to be the personal assistant of your cold and distant boss, you couldn’t help but feel slightly vulnerable at the thought. Bokuto Kōtarō was the biggest CEO in town and he was notorious for his inability to smile. You, being the adorable cinnamon roll you were, were shaking like crazy to meet your boss. After all, you’ve only been working under his other assistants before being randomly promoted due to the shortage of assistants.

When you made your way up to the top floor to meet your boss, you felt slight shivers trying to imagine what he looked like up close and personal. When the door swung open, you saw the ice cold eyes of the gray-haired man lock onto yours and you were stopped dead in your tracks. He was beautiful. His eyes reflected a mysterious aura that resembled an owl and his hair slicked back like a gray mountain. His shirt was buttoned up and his tie was tight around his neck.

You took a big gulp as you approached him. His eyes followed you as you made your way across the room. His stoic expression did nothing to reassure you. When you finally stood right in front of him, his deep, clear voice interrupted the silence.

“Ms. l/n, you’ve been working on the second floor as (assistant’s name’s) assistant right?”

“Y-yes sir.”

God, that was so stupid why did you say it like that??? Ugh what if he thinks you’re so unprofessional now?? What do you do??

He noticed your slight twitching and let out a deep sigh. You saw his eyes look at something behind you and he spoke once again.

“Ms. l/n, you will call me Bokuto. From now on, you’ll be my personal assistant and will report directly to me. But for now, just sit and watch so you’ll have an idea of what to do.”

His voice was not demanding in the slightest. Actually, he sounded quite soothing. You felt your body relax at his words.

“Thank you, Bokuto. I promise I won’t disappoint you!”

He smiled a bit at your declaration and went back to looking at his paperwork. You could see that he was really dedicated to his work. According to your old boss, Bokuto was able to leave the office anytime he wanted, but he always stayed many hours after everybody else in order to get more work in. You wondered if that ever caused a strain on his health.

As you unknowingly continued to stare at his face, he grumbled and turned to you.

“Oi, my face isn’t a piece of artwork. Go get me a can of beer if you’re bored.” (Haha his face is beautiful wdym)

“YES! Sorry sir!”

You scrambled to the vending machine to grab him a beer and you didn’t know which one he liked so you got one of each!

The bewildered look on his face when you came rushing back in with seven different types of beer cans in your arms was a sight to remember.

“Let me pay your back for those, Ms. l/n,” Bokuto said nonchalantly.

“No no, consider it a thank you for the promotion, sir,” you reply with a smile on your face.

You might be going crazy but you swore you could see a slight dust of pink on his cheeks.

“Very well. Thank you for the gift,” he says as he pops a can open.

You didn’t even notice that Bokuto has gotten through all seven of the cans and 2 piles of paperwork because you were starting to doze off. It was not until you felt a sloppy poke to your cheek that you jolted up.

The gesture was from none other than your cold-hearted boss. His eyes were dazed and he looked pretty drunk. It was almost 3am and you could feel yourself about to pass out.

“Hey y/n, you’re faaaaalling ashleeep on the jobbbb. Thas not allowed! Lemme take you...home okay?”

Then sound of your first name in his mouth was delightful and you could feel your stomach churn. Oh god what dirty thoughts were you thinking of with your boss of all people???

He starts to stand from where he was squatting beside you but he was wobbling like crazy.

“B-bokuto be careful!! Let me help you!”

But it was too late; Bokuto had fallen right onto you and you both fell over with a thump. You expected it to hurt but his hand was supporting your head to break the fall. You gasp at the proximity and try to scooch your way out from under him to no avail.

“Bokuto, we need to get up. Can you stand?”

He lets out a muffled sound of annoyance and you sigh. So this was the oh so tough Bokuto Kōtarō? He was more like a big baby. Your brows furrowed as you stared down at the man lying atop you and you felt an indescribable urge to touch his hair. The hair he had put up with gel was now tousled and undone. You cautiously ran your fingers through his hair and he hummed in response beneath you.

This was wrong on so many levels. This was your first day meeting your boss and you were already stuck in this intimate position. His hair is so soft omfg. You continued to feel his hair when he jostles from beneath you.

“What’s happening?” His groggy voice interrupts the the silent atmosphere and you’re now 50 shades of red.

“F-FORGIVE ME SIR!!! YOU FELL ON TOP OF ME AND I DIDN’T KNOW WHAT TO DO!”

You didn’t want to get fired on your first day so you figured some sort of explanation was in order.

Bokuto doesn’t appear to be listening but instead, he’s rubbing his eyes and squinting at you as if to make out who you were and why you were in his office.

“Ah, I see. Thank you for your help then,” he checks his watch, “it’s 3am, let me take you home.”

“Is that alright? No offence but, you’ve had way too many beers tonight. I’d feel safer if you let me drive you home.”

Surprisingly, you were met with little argument and soon enough, both of you were cooped up in your little ride. You started up your car and was about to ask him where his house was when you turned to see a dead asleep Bokuto by your side.

Once you got there, Bokuto was snoring loudly and you had to hull his heavy body towards your door. All your volleyball practice in the past literally amounted to you being able to carry your boss into your house at 3 in the morning.

You flopped his body onto your couch as you tried to catch your breath. You stared at him for a moment and you couldn’t help but think that he must’ve been so uncomfortable in his work clothes. You chastised yourself for your next thought, and what happened next was a surprise.

You started loosening up his tie and unbuttoning the top of his shirt. You could feel his chest muscles brush against your knuckles everytime you undid a button and hear his breathing turn into a slow and steady rhythm.

After you were done helping him, you stood to get ready for bed when a strong hand gripped onto your wrist and pulled you downwards. The force wasn’t enough to make you fall but you quickly turned your head to your sleeping boss.

He was still fast asleep, but his body was shaking and his forehead was creased as though he were in a lot of pain.

“Father, please, please don’t go..” he whispers. His voice trailed off and you can hear the slight crack in his voice.

You felt as though you heard something you weren’t supposed to hear or unlocked and emotion that wasn’t meant to be seen by a mere assistant.

When he wouldn’t let go of your wrist, you settled for sitting on the floor beside him. When the twitching and murmuring didn’t stop for another couple minutes, you find yourself stroking his hair again. He’s calming down and his slumber is becoming peaceful.

Before you know it, you’re falling asleep right on the floor with your new boss gripping tightly onto your wrist.

You awoke to the sun beams from your living room window. Your eyes are squinting as they try to adjust to the light and you look around the room. And oh my lord the sight before you was not one you see everyday. You were on your couch wrapped in a button-up with your SHIRTLESS BOSS MAKING BREAKFAST IN YOUR KITCHEN???? What in the wattpad is happening??? Wrong platform

“U-um, Bokuto-san, what’s going on?” You ask meekly.

“Oh, good morning Ms. l/n. I hope you like bacon and eggs because that’s all I know how to make,” he says nonchalantly.

“Anything is fine but, would you like your shirt back?”

You hastily unwrap yourself from his shirt and drape it over his shoulders. He’s significantly taller than you so you’re on your tippy toes trying to reach him.

He’s looking at you with gentle eyes before focusing on the eggs once more.

You’re a flustered mess as you make your way into the bathroom. How did this happen? Last time you checked, you had placed Bokuto onto the couch and was sitting on the floor beside him while your sleep talking boss held onto your wrist. He must’ve moved you when he woke up. His cologne lingered on your skin from where his shirt touched you.

You’re looking in the mirror and you look like a mess. Your hair that was once tucked neatly into a bun was undone. Your makeup had smeared and your clothes were ruffled. Oh god your boss had seen you in this state.

You quickly tidied up and put on the only other clothing that was appropriate for your office job which so happened to be a blouse and pencil skirt that sat snuggly on all your curves. You couldn’t lie, you looked smoking hot.

You mustered up the courage to face your boss and was met with a pair of astonished eyes. He was looking you up and down as though he were meeting someone new. Your hair was too messy to put back into a bun so you were left with brushing it down enough so that it looked like natural waves. You were never insecure about your looks before, but the eyes of this man made you feel naked.

You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and said, “um, are you ready to go now?”

Bokuto clears his throat at your words and nods his head.

As you arrived to the building, you could feel the eyes of all the other employees glued to you in confusion as the two of you stepped out of the car together. Bokuto had already switched to cold-mode and walked towards to the entrance without waiting for you. Poor cinnamon roll was left to fend off the judgemental coworkers alone. But could you blame them? They were used to their big boss never interacting with anyone unless it was business related but here he was, coming out of a girl’s car with unkempt hair and wrinkly shirt.

As you caught up to Bokuto, you tried to strike a conversation in hopes of easing the tension but he was definitely in no mood to talk. His eyes were glued to the direction he was walking in and he always seemed to march a few strides ahead of you as if you keep you at a distance. No one would believe you if you told them that this man was the one cooking you breakfast this morning. Not that you’d tell anyone, though. You had enough on your plate without having people assuming that you slept your way to the top.

When you both reached his office, he was at his desk starting his paperwork with no instruction for you.

You stood in silence for a couple minutes before speaking up, “excuse me Bokuto, what do you suppose I do in the meantime?”

He glanced up quickly and stared at you with boredom.

“I’ve printed out sheets of this month’s financial report. Please go retrieve them for me.”

“Of course,” you reply as you scurry to do just that.

The retrieval of the report was an easy enough task and you wanted to be efficient in returning but you were stopped by a familiar coworker.

“Y/n-chan, I heard you’ve been promoted to the big boss’s right hand woman. Looks like I’ll have no way to look at your sweet ass anymore, huh?”

“Terushima-kun, I am in no mood for any of your games right now. Please move aside.”

He’s smirking now and backs you up against a wall with one arm beside your head.

“Don’t get too cocky sweetheart. Just because you’re our boss’s bitch now doesn’t make you any better than the rest of us,” Terushima whispers against your ear.

You’re now hugging the papers close to your chest as some form of protection. You whimper and close your eyes as you feel his hand caress your cheek but it’s cut short when a big figure cuts in between you and Terushima.

Bokuto is standing in front of you and gripping onto the hand that was once caressing your face. Terushima’s expression shifted to one of fear as he began to realize what was happening.

“B-boss! What’s up? It’s a lovely day isn’t it?”

“Save it,” Bokuto sneers at him, “you’re lucky I don’t fire you right here and now. The next time you decide to harass my assistant, you better consider the consequences because next time, I won’t be so generous.”

Bokuto releases Terushima’s hand and grabs onto yours as he drags you away.

“Sir! Thank you for the help!”

He doesn’t reply until you reach his office. He kind of looks irritated as he stares at the floor.

“Bokuto-san! You were so badass back there! Thank you so much for saving me. And oh! I got your papers!” You exclaim with a bright smile on your face.

You’re pushing the stack towards him in earnest and he’s staring at you like you’re giving him the moon.

He suddenly bursts into laughter, “you were almost harassed and you’re praising me?”

His laugh sounds childish and genuine. When he laughs, his face lights up like a kid that has just got a new toy.

“But it really was cool, huh? I was so ready to punch the guy. Mannn that rush of adrenaline brings back so many memories!” Bokuto is going on like you’ve never seen before.

Your eyes are starry as you stare at the enthusiastic Bokuto. When he catches you staring in amusement, he is quick to fix his tie and shift back to business mode.

“Ahem, anyway. What’s done is done. Let’s get back to work.”

The moment was nice while it lasted. You felt as though you had seen a side of Bokuto that has not been awakened for a long time. You glanced at him occasionally while sorting the paperwork, and although he did not look back, you could see the slight trace of a smile on his lips everytime you stared.

Oh boy, you were in for a long ride. And you weren’t complaining. There was definitely more in store for you and your cold-hearted boss...

a/n: come back for part 2 coming soon!!! :)))

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