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dawnagustd · 2 years

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encore || jhs (18+)

Part of the Jack N’ Jill Series: Encore | Danger! | Party Time

⇢ Drabbles: Kink Hours Drabble

⤏ playlist: Mesmerize by Ja Rule & Ashanti(I’ve decided that this is one of their theme songs) | What If by J-Hope | When I See U by Fantasia | Naughty Girl Remix by Beyoncé ft. Lil Flip

Story Guide: This installment takes place before Danger! and Party Time. However, it can probably be read out of order or as a standalone if you wish to read that way.

“Keep your hand flat. I’m almost done,” you stress as you secure the bandage with some tape.

It’s not the best work, but you had limited supplies in the band’s first aid kit. If you’d known it was this scarce, you would have stocked it up with supplies. You can never be too careful when it comes to safety.

“Why did you hit him anyway?”

Hoseok stares straight ahead, zoned out with his left knee bouncing up and down. A tick of his that only appears when he’s angry or anxious.

You call his name and tap his arm, snapping him out of it and regaining his attention.

“Hm?” he hums.

With an eye roll, you repeat yourself.

“I was talking about Viper. Why’d you hit him in the first place?” you ask, running your thumb over the dressing to see if it’s sturdy enough to last through the performance. He winces when you come in contact with his knuckle. “Sorry.”

“You’re good. And it’s just some bullshit. Don’t worry about it,” he insists.

But you aren’t dumb.

“It was about me, wasn’t it?”

When Hoseok’s eyes widen, you get your answer.

“Hey, it’s nothing,” he lies.

You turn away from him, looking at your nails to distract yourself from the ugly truth of your presence here. They’ll never like you, so why even try?

“Maybe I should stop coming around,” you suggest. “This isn’t worth it.”

He’s behind you before you can even finish speaking, turning you around so he can see your face.

“Stop that, all right. I asked you to be here, and they have to accept that.”

You nod, but you still aren’t feeling any better about it. You don’t care much about what people think, but you don’t want friends fighting over you. It makes you feel so shitty.

“Look at me,” he requests, then uses his finger to tilt your chin up. In moments like this, you must remind yourself to take a step back. Feeding into any thoughts of Hoseok being more than a friend is dangerous, and you know you shouldn’t do it. “I want you around. That’s all that should matter—”

The door bursts open, revealing the band’s bass player, Ty.

“Jay, we got a problem.”

The look on his face indicates that something is wrong.

Hoseok scoffs. “We,” he points between himself and the man standing at the door, “sure do.”

“Uhh, sorry, bro. But there really is a huge problem,” he informs.

“Okay, spit it out. I don’t have all night.” Hoseok’s annoyance has him all tensed up, and you absentmindedly place your hand on his back, relieving some of the pressure momentarily.

Ty gazes at the site with curious eyes but thankfully asks no questions because you have no explanation on why you did it or why he actually relaxed under your touch.

“Well, um…Viper just quit, and we’ve got ten minutes until showtime,” Ty finally confesses.

Hoseok doesn’t bat an eye. However, your stomach drops to the floor. This isn’t good. Now you’ll definitely be kicked out of the circle. Viper’s the band’s drummer. They can’t perform without him.

You’re about to open your mouth to offer an apology and to plead with Hoseok to allow you to speak with Viper, but he speaks up before you can even find the words.

“Okay,” he shrugs. “Fuck him. Go check the equipment and make sure the bastard didn’t take anything. I’ll be out there in a second.”

Ty stands there in shock, his expression looking similar to yours. When he doesn’t move, Hoseok loses his patience.

“Dude, why are you still standing here?” His arms stretch out with an aggravated huff. “Go!”

The man scrambles out of there before Hoseok can throw another punch, and you stand in utter disbelief. How is he not upset? And how is he going to put on a show without a drummer?

Although, your answer comes sooner than later.

“You got your sticks, right?” he asks while grabbing his black leather gloves.

You nod.

“Yeah, always,” you confirm. “Why?”

The moment Hoseok throws you a smirk, your knees become weak, though you aren’t swooned for long.

“It’s time to use them,” he says, looking in the mirror to fluff out his hair. “Let’s go.”

But instead of following him, you stand in the same spot, babbling any excuse that comes to mind. Hoseok walks over to you and starts pulling you towards the door.

“I-I can’t go out there!... I don’t have an outfit…What if I mess up?... My braces are still on!”

Hoseok silences you by placing his finger on your lips. He chuckles, finding your panic amusing.

“First of all, you look hot. Second, you were at my place every day while I was writing these songs,” he tells you. “I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t know you could do it.”

“But—”

“You’re gonna be fine, ma. Don’t worry,” he assures, giving you those soft eyes that he knows will leave you a mess. “Just keep your attention on me, and you’ll never miss a beat.”

You have no idea what that means, but it has your pussy leaking like a waterfall. Your thoughts are clouded by whatever delusional haze that has come over you as you allow yourself to think this man is flirting with you. You agree before you can change your mind.

“All right, I guess I’ll give it a try,” you sigh. “I’ll get my stuff and meet you on stage.”

“Yes,” he triumphs briefly and wastes no time making his way to the stage.

However, you call his name before he departs.

“You aren’t going to wear your hat?” You point to the jester cap on the “dressing room” couch.

“Nah, it’s too hot. Don’t be too long, babe.”

And then he’s gone, leaving you with your mouth open and your legs wobbling.

Hoseok hasn’t had a haircut in over a month. How in the hell are you supposed to survive when he's out there looking like the three letters of sin?

“I’ll try,” you mumble as you stare at the empty hallway.

You stand there until you hear them calling your name, and then you have no choice but to go out there and face your fears—or your desires, you should say.

“I have to give it to you, _____,” Yoongi compliments. “I’ve been playing with these guys for years, and I don’t think Viper could ever capture your stage presence.”

Ty chimes in. “Shit, tell me about it. Did you see those chicks on the front row telling Jay to move so they can throw her some kisses? That was hot, and I laughed my ass off.”

Both of them retell the events of the show, but you can’t find yourself cheering. You were initially nervous, but once the music started and the crowd’s applause vibrated the stage, you felt an unexplainable rush that took over your body.

Now you’re just worried if it was too much. You’re afraid you’ve overstepped, and Hoseok may be angry with you. You’ve been avoiding him since you got off the stage, but you know you can’t run forever.

“Hey, _____. Jay wants you to come backstage when you get a chance,” one of his groupies calls from the doorway of the entertainment hall.

“Okay. Did he say why?” you ask out of curiosity.

“I’m not a messenger. Ask him yourself.”

Her attitude rubs you wrong, and it makes your eye twitch. You take a deep breath to calm yourself as she disappears into the corridor.

“We’ll catch you later. Better see what he wants,” Yoongi teases, and you give him the best smile you can muster up.

Knowing Hoseok is waiting for you, you don’t stall. You make your way towards the room you were in earlier with a fast-beating heart.

The door is cracked, but you still knock before you enter. Your hand searches for the light switch as you close the door behind you, but a force traps you against the wall before you can do so.

Even in the poorly lit room, you can make out Hoseok’s handsome features and curly hair. His body is pressed against yours, causing you to tense up for a brief moment.

“Shit, you scared me,” you squeak, eyes wide. “Is something wrong?”

“Nope. I’m just a little jealous.” His smile is genuine but sinister.

You take a gulp before you answer, swallowing back a feeling you know you shouldn’t feel when he’s this close to you.

“Jealous of what?”

“You know how you behaved out there. Don’t play with me,” he scoffs, his smirk still evident.

“Oh. Sorry about that.”

“Sorry? For what?” he asks.

“I guess for getting too wild. I know that’s your thing.”

His head shakes, and his hair covers his dark eyes. You plant your hands on the wall behind you to support your trembling legs. A part of you wishes he’ll create some space between you.

“Am I making you uncomfortable or something?” Hoseok quizzes.

“What?! I mean, no. Of course not,” you laugh nervously.

He leans closer, and the smell of him invades your nostrils. You instantly become drunk off of him just standing there, inhaling his scent.

“I was about to say,” he whispers in your ear. “You didn’t seem shy earlier.”

“What do you mean?”

You hold a breath, waiting for him to back off, but he never does.

“When you were checking me out,” he reveals, and you nearly sink to the floor. “You were peering over, trying to see me. They told me, you know.”

“Um…”

You have no argument. There’s nothing you can say because it’s true.

The growling, the dick grabbing, his wet fucking hair. You couldn’t catch a break. Then to make matters worse, he started thrusting the air. You couldn’t see him clearly since his back was facing you, but the reaction from the crowd told you everything. You craved to see more, but unfortunately, your position prevented you from doing so.

“If you wanted me to show you some more, all you had to do was ask,” he informs, using his hips to grind against you.

Your mouth falls open slightly, but nothing comes out. There are no words to describe the thoughts going through your head. Your body is tempted to join him, but thankfully he laughs before you can give in.

“I’m just fucking with you,” he chuckles. “You did good, ma. I’m proud of you. That energy was incredible.”

After you give him a tight smile, he continues.

“The position is yours if you want it.”

“Yeah, of course I do,” you answer truthfully, and he congratulates you.

You release a sigh when he withdraws, and it doesn’t go unnoticed.

“What’s up with you?” he asks immediately.

Fuck.

“Nothing,” you lie.

“Really?”

He walks over to you again and tries to read your expression. His fingers poke at your sides playfully to get a reaction.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Move, please,” you groan, trying to walk around him, but he grabs your waist.

It’s not uncommon for you two to be touchy when no one’s around, but you don’t trust yourself tonight. You might react inappropriately and can’t handle that kind of embarrassment.

“Can you stop it?” You push him away, and the game changes; he’s no longer his playful self.

Without another word, he spins you around and corners you once again. Your back hits the wall with a small thud, but it's only because the back of his hands block the impact. You stare at him like a deer in headlights, knowing that you’re in deep shit.

If there’s one thing you know about Hoseok, he’ll draw the truth out of you.

“Sorry, but something’s wrong,” he tries again. He whispers, “Is it girl stuff?”

You sigh defeatedly.

“Something like that,” you admit.

The ridges on Hoseok’s face become more defined as he tries to decipher what that could mean.

“It’s a guy, huh?”

Your reaction proves your guilt. “What?! No!”

“A girl?”

“Uhh…”

“You can tell me, you know?” he assures, and you crack at the sight of the softness within his eyes. Most of the time, he’s rough around the edges, but he’s caring when he needs to be.

“Yeah, it’s a guy,” you confess.

His expression is unreadable, but still, you feel a bit of disapproval radiating from his body.

“So, you’re his now? And I’m not allowed to touch you?” he concludes.

“Wha–No, Jay. I swear that’s not it.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s you,” you blurt out, slapping your hand over your mouth.

Hoseok goes from pissed to shocked, and you quickly try to escape the embarrassing moment you’ve created for yourself. Why couldn’t you just have kept your mouth shut?

“Wait a minute.” He takes a step back but holds up his hand to stop you. “You need to explain what you mean by that. I can get someone else if you don’t want to talk to me.”

“It’s nothing like that. I promise,” you assure.

“Okay, I figured. But still, what’s up?”

“It doesn’t matter. I just need to go. It’s late.”

But he doesn’t move.

“Where are you going?” he questions. “Your parents letting you in at this hour?”

When you got off stage earlier, you already had 23 missed calls. He should already know the answer to that question.

“No, but I don’t think I can come over to yours either,” you inform. His head tilts, curiosity probably flooding his thoughts. “I’m not myself tonight, and I don’t want to say or do anything stupid.”

“Like…?”

You shrug your shoulders.

“Tell you the things I think about you probably? I’ve already slipped up once.”

You lower your head, but he tells you to look at him.

“So you’re trying to tell me that you like me or something?” he quizzes, searching your face for answers. “You know the rules, right?”

You nod. “Members can’t date each other, and that includes fucking.”

“So you know that nothing can happen, right? I’d be a hypocrite.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know how it happened, but I swear it was never my intention. I know how much the band means to you, and it means a lot to me too, and—”

“Shh,” he whispers, bring a finger to his mouth. He comes closer and leans down, bringing his face only an inch away from yours. Your breath hitches as soon as your eyes meet, and you’re left wondering what will happen next. “This is our secret, okay?”

After you agree, the softest kiss is placed on your lips. Your eyelids flutter shut, and your palms find his chest to ground yourself. His hands return to your waist, but as the kiss deepens and the moment heats up, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer.

A soft moan emits from your throat when he slips his tongue inside your mouth, exploring aimlessly and becoming greedier as the seconds pass.

You start to feel more confident and begin run your hands over his body, noting how firm he is with each gentle squeeze. Your mind is left jumbled and hazy by the time his lips abandon yours. A whine threatens to escape, but you catch it at the last second.

When your eyes open, you stare at each other as you process the intensity of the minute-long moment shared between you. Heat creeps up your neck because, despite the many kisses you’ve shared with others while making out, this is the first time you’ve felt this overcome with lust from the small act alone.

Your mind races with many thoughts because you aren’t sure of what Hoseok is thinking until he speaks.

“I’m probably going to regret this…” he says before hooking his hand behind your thigh. He lifts your leg and then taps the other one. “But, come here.”

You hop in his arms, and he carries you across the room to a large wooden table.

He lays you on top of it and slips his hand under your skirt, snatching off your panties in one swift motion. You prop yourself up on your elbows and use your foot to push yourself back. Once both feet are on the table, he spreads your legs and drops to his knees.

Hoseok curses when your pussy is revealed to him, and he brings his face in close proximity. He inhales deeply as his nose travels along your inner thigh and eventually finds itself against your cunt. He breathes in your scent with a satisfied hum, like he’s been dying to smell you forever.

“You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to taste this pussy,” he comments, giving your clit tiny kitten licks. “Fuck, you’re gonna be crying when I’m done.”

“What–Oh, shit!”

His tongue flattens and licks up your slit, making you tremble in his grasp. The first intrusion is breathtaking and unlike anything you’ve ever felt. Hoseok does not show any fear when he dives into your center and doesn’t hold back any thought that runs through his mind.

He laps up your juices and makes out with your pussy as feverishly as he did your lips. Your hands form fists as you fight through the sensitivity.

“So fucking sweet,” he moans against your heat. “You taste so fucking good.”

“Please.” The plea erupts from your throat without much effort, without even knowing what you’re asking for. However, Hoseok seems to know what it is you need.

“Come on my tongue. I don’t mind.”

He sucks in your clit between his lips and your back arches. The volume of your voice leaves your ears ringing, not even caring if someone outside of the room could hear you. The tears Hoseok promised begin to roll down your cheeks as the first real orgasm of your life takes over your body.

Your limbs stiffen when he nibbles on your sensitive bundle of nerves and robs you of the only breath that remains in your lungs.

“Be as loud as you want, baby. It’s just us.”

He finishes by cleaning up your arousal, licking you into oversensitivity while your body squirms to get out of his hold. “Don’t run from me,” he tells you, and you’re forced to lay there while being drained of all your energy.

You’re still whimpering when he makes his way up your body, kissing you and allowing you to taste yourself on his lips. He chuckles when you moan into his mouth.

“Fuck, this is a bad idea,” he says after he pulls away. He mumbles while pondering and trying to determine if it is worth the risk. If you’re worth the risk.

The fate of the entire band lies in his hands, and every decision he makes is crucial to its existence.

“You don’t have to. I would understand if you didn’t.”

“What if I think you look too good to resist?” he asks. A smile cannot help but spread on your face, knowing that your feeling for him is mutual.

Feeling bold, your hands move up his shoulders, and your fingers entangle in his curly wet strands. You catch on to your mistake and withdraw quickly. Hoseok doesn’t like when people touch his hair. You vividly remember how he kicked everyone out when some girl tried to run her fingers through it once.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologize. “I got carried away.”

His response is not one you expect. “You’re good, ma.”

Goosebumps raise on your skin as his glove-clad hands travel up your thighs, pausing once they reach your skirt. He tugs at it gently while looking at you lying beneath him.

“You can touch wherever you want,” he permits.

As he leaves a kiss on your cheek, you relish in the silkiness of his locks. Quickly you get drunk from his touch and slip into a lust-induced trance. Hoseok’s lips travel lower, entering dangerous territory—drawing a sound from you that only your bedroom walls have heard.

“Jay…”

He freezes.

Your mind begins to scramble for excuses, but fortunately, you won’t need them.

“Don’t moan my name like that unless you’re trying to get fucked for real,” he warns you.

Curiosity leaves you practically begging to discover what it is he wishes to keep hidden.

“What if I do?... What if I want you like that?” he rests his forehead on yours to see your face while you speak.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” he chuckles.

“How will I ever know if you won’t show me?”

“I shouldn’t, though.”

“Why not?” you ask him.

“You know why.”

“But you have my permission, and I don’t expect you to be my boyfriend afterward,” you assure, but he doesn’t say anything until you beg. “Please?... You can’t take me this far just to leave me hanging.”

“Fuck,” he curses. “That’s not fair.”

“But doubting me is?”

Hoseok breaks with a heavy sigh.

“Well, let me take you back to my place first, okay?” he suggests, gathering your skirt in his hands. “I wanna do it the right way.”

You notice how he reluctantly tries to pull it down but is torn between being patient or feeding into his desire. You hope that he’ll give into it with some encouragement.

“Hoseok, I can’t wait that long.” You wrap your legs around his waist, bucking into his crotch and taunting him carelessly. He grips the fabric a little tight after you gently tug on his hair.

“Babe…”

“I want you,” you whisper. “Now.”

“Then you have me, baby.”

His hands move to your shirt and make hasty movements to get it over your head. He doesn’t stop there because your bra is next to go, but he pauses before he rips it off you.

“You aren’t shy, are you?”

You take it off yourself, showing him all of your glory. The man has had his face buried in your cunt for nearly five minutes—shame no longer exists.

“Nope,” you reply.

“So fucking hot,” he says, spreading your legs wide. “But so delicate and sweet.”

His hand runs along your inner thigh while he digs inside his back pocket, pulling out his wallet. He opens it and explores its compartments before pulling out a condom.

“Are you nervous?” he asks you, tearing the foil with his teeth.

“Yeah, but I’ll be okay.”

“Eager, are we?” he teases.

“Shut up,” you retort. Your eyes expand when he grabs your face, making you look at him.

“Make me.”

His fingers squish your cheeks together while he places the condom between his lips and unzips his pants with the other hand. He takes it and pumps his cock as he rolls it on, preparing himself for the warmth that awaits him.

When he pulls you closer, and the tip of his dick touches your heat, you realize that it’s really about to happen, and all the stories you’ve heard about the first time start to invade your mind.

“You sure you want to, right?”

You take a deep breath to calm yourself and reply. “Yeah.”

He nods, then brings his cock to your entrance.

“Don’t let me hurt you,” he tells you, probing the thin barrier that blocks his entry. “Just relax.”

You can only shake your head in understanding because words are impossible to form right now.

You start clawing at his back, trying to hold onto something and cope with the overwhelming fullness. You try to speak, but the intrusion leaves you gasping. There’s a bit of stinging, but the pressure and intensity make you feel like you’re about to explode.

“I know it’s tough, but you gotta let me know how you’re doing, babe.”

“Do something, please.”

“Huh?”

“Fuck me or something. Don’t just stay like this.” Thankfully, he understands what you mean and starts out with small strokes to test the waters. You squeeze your eyes shut and try to get more familiar with the feeling. “...So big.”

Hoseok can barely contain himself and releases a pained laugh while he also gets used to the feeling.

“No, you’re just really tight…and you’re squeezing the shit out of me,” he informs.

“I-Is that bad?”

“No, sweetheart,” he laughs. “It’s going to feel good for both of us in a second.”

He looks between you to watch the way your pussy takes him in, cursing and commenting on how pretty your cunt looks with him inside of it.

“Can’t believe this pretty pussy is wrapped around my dick. You don’t know how long I’ve been thinking about this.”

The discomfort starts to ebb away when he starts speaking to you. You linger on every word and relish in each compliment he gives you.

“Always teasing me in these little skirts like I wasn’t tempted to bend you over and fuck you where you stood,” he confesses. “I tried my best to behave, but you just couldn’t keep this pretty cunt to yourself, huh?”

“Jay,” you moan, not even realizing he’s picked up the pace.

The overwhelming feeling has dissipated, and all that remains is lust and the desire to feel another wave of pleasure wash over you.

“You wanted me to have it, huh? Wanted it to be mine, didn’t you?”

“I—”

“Your parents would be so proud if they knew you gave it up to me, wouldn’t they?” he mocks, amusement in his voice. Your walls tighten around his shaft, making him hiss and degrade you more. “I should tell them what a nasty girl you are.”

His thrusts become deeper, his cock entering your womb and pushing you further up the table on impact. Hoseok brings his hand up to your neck and pins you to the table while he fucks you as roughly as he pleases.

The other hand gropes your tits, swirling his fingers around your nipples to intensify your pleasure.

“You think they’d approve of this, hm?”

“No,” you rasp, eyes rolling back when he squeezes your throat. “They wouldn’t.”

“But you don’t care, do you?” he questions, and once again, you deny. “You’d rather be my whore than a good girl.”

“Jay, please.”

“Please what?” he teases, loosening his hold to let you breathe. “Does that pretty pussy want to come again?”

“Fuck, yes! Please, Hoseok.”

He laughs at your desperation.

“Using my real name and shit.” He snatches you up and pulls you to the edge of the table, making you look him in the eye. “Must be a desperate little whore.”

Without even thinking, you reply and shock him even.

“I am. I really am.”

The smirk that grows on his face is menacing, but it sends a pool of arousal gushing from your hole.

“Prove it,” he taunts. “Open your mouth.”

You do it without hesitation, and immediately he spits in your mouth, telling you to close and swallow without leaving a drop. You don’t bat an eye when you consume it and then open up to show him what you did.

Your obedience leaves his dick twitching inside of you, revealing that he’s also close to his release.

“Damn, I need to keep you around,” he says, mostly to himself. His words still boost your ego and leave you a drooling mess within his hold. “So good for me. Go ahead and come.”

He whispers as he stares at you with those lust-filled eyes, pounding you remorselessly and bringing more tears to your reddened eyes.

“You deserve it, pretty girl.”

The tightened coil within you snaps, and you can no longer fight off the urge to let go. You come with his name on your drool-covered lips, falling limp in his arms when you’re finally spent. Hoseok lays you down gently and pulls out of your heat, removing the condom swiftly and rubbing his dick until he squirts his cum all over your pussy.

His moans are so sexy as they fill your ears, and you lay there smiling at him, fucked out and in your post-orgasmic daze. When he’s finally spent, he removes gloves and starts to caress your body gently. You appreciate the delicate touch of his soft hands.

“You okay? Did I go too far?” he asks, you shake your head.

“I enjoyed it a lot,” you answer truthfully. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“This.” You gesture towards your tired body with a weak smile, earning a laugh from Hoseok.

“I should clean you up,” he points out, walking over to his bag to grab an extra t-shirt he has buried somewhere inside. He pauses as he’s searching and turns to you.

“Hey.”

You hum.

“You don’t have to say yes, so don’t feel pressured but umm…” he holds up his camera, “I just like to keep these. I don’t show anyone. I just—”

“I’m okay with it,” you confirm.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” you nod, opening your legs so he can have a better view.

You swirl his arousal around and mix it with yours before shoving your fingers inside of yourself, wincing slightly from sensitivity.

“Fuck, just like that,” he encourages.

He snaps pictures and collects them as soon as they develop, lining them up next to you so you can see them once he’s done. They actually look nice, and you find yourself smiling as you look at them.

“You like them?” Hoseok speaks after you’ve been staring for a few seconds. “We can take some more at my place.”

“We can?”

“You want to?” he laughs.

“Of course! I look sexy.” You wiggle your brows playfully, and he shakes his head.

He helps you clean up and put on your clothes despite you telling him not to. You have to walk beside him and grip his arm for stability because your legs are shaky and wobbly. Both of you laugh as you depart. However, he turns to you before you get to his car.

“I know we said stuff while we were fucking, but I just wanna make sure our agreement is still intact,” he states, his tone becoming more serious.

“No, I still feel the same. I have to focus on school, and my parents would never approve, you know?... I don’t think it would be worth it, no offense.”

“Oh, I agree,” he assures. “Well, if it’s all good, let’s go to my place, and I’ll take you to your dorm tomorrow?”

“Sounds good,” you tell him, and it really did sound great.

But then he took you home and fucked you in every position the entire weekend. By Monday morning, you were sore, covered in his marks, and dick-whipped beyond the point of return.

That weekend was only a sample. The more time you spent together, the more you fucked each other, and the closer you two became.

You had to learn the hard way that friends with benefits usually never work in your favor.

#hoseok x reader #hoseok smut #bts smut #bts x reader #bts angst #hoseok angst #btsdreamcourt #bangtanbathhouse #bangtansorciere #bts imagines #hoseok fanfics #bts fanfics #sugakookitty

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idontknowreallywhy · 3 months

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Estera - Ch 30 - Introduce

It’s been a while… nearly a fortnight, but they’re back ;)

What went before

I struggled with this one, dunno why, but most of the good ideas and one-liners are down to @sofasurf! So much so I’m tagging her in for the next one.

This chapter is 100% silly friends being silly and daft brothers being daft because everyone needs to let their hair down once in a while… And they need a break before anything else falls on anyone…

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

…

The three “your contact is typing” dots bounced for a while then stopped. Then bounced again. Then stopped.

She put the phone down and continued to make breakfast but within moments picked it up again, intrigued. What was he taking so long to write?

…

How’s your day?

…

Did you know stress balls are not actually indestructible???

Um, yeah - I’m a primary school teacher. That’s basically day 1 of training.

Huh.

I sense there is a story behind this… sharing is caring you know?

THEY ARE SUPPOSED TO BE INDESTRUCTIBLE!

O….K…. Imagine me saying generic reassuring things and patting you on the shoulder.

My shoulder is covered in stress ball goop. But thank you, that weirdly helps.

🤭 oh dear… that stuff is a beast to wash out

Well there’s another Italian tailor I have to avoid for the rest of my life…

Not again!

I have glitter in my hair 😭

I’m sure it looks beautiful. I’ll ask one of your brothers to send me a photo.

I’m not getting out the shower until it’s gone.

You will literally starve to death.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

So today I had to confiscate an action figure which had Alan’s head, John’s torso and your limbs. Should I be concerned about these children?

That’s… horrifying. I’m never coming back to the UK. 😲

They all say hi by the way.

I’m too scared to say hi back to them now 😬

On the topic of the action figures…

Yes?

I have to know - what WAS wrong with Gordon’s novelty action figure of you? You never told me…

You don’t want to know.

Oh I really really do.

…

Oh go on, I’ll only be imagining worse.

…

The figure was making pancakes while wearing a frilly blue “Kiss The Chef” apron.

That doesn’t seem so bad?

Only the apron.

Oh my… 🤣

Speak of this to no-one.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Hey Estera, got any plans this evening?

Aside from vegging out with Bez and watching Celebrity Alligator Wrestling?

I mean I wouldn’t want to tear you away from that…

I could be persuaded… :)

Well, we happen to be in Europe right now (John had a thing) and Penny is visiting some Earl near Exeter and suggested we pop by and go out for a drink.

John’s not Earthside very often so she takes whatever chances she can get to catch up with him (they are old college friends, did I ever mention that?)

ANYWAY as it’s not far from you I wondered whether you might like to join us?

Oh wow thank you that’s very kind of you to think of me! It would be lovely to meet John and Lady Penelope if you’re sure I wouldn’t be intruding?

Of course not!

Virgil is with us too and says you have to come because he’s already bored with mine and John’s company.

Ok, I must now tell you that he did not in fact use those exact words.

Or to say that.

Apparently I am maddening.

Hi Estera, it’s Virgil. Please ignore what my idiot brother is saying. It would be lovely to see you if you’d like to come but please don’t feel any pressure.

Girjebvaxbnnnnn&&&&&&&

It’s Scott again, I’ve retrieved my comm. Sorry about my annoying TINY LITTLE BABY sibling who snatches things that aren’t his.

😂 I think I’m sold. I can get to Exeter in an hour? Where and when should I meet you?

John says the place is near the Cathedral - send a message when you get there and I’ll come and find you?

Fab! Ok I shall do that.

Ha!

What?

F-A-B is kind of a thing for us.

Oh! Oh I should have known that!

Reuben and Alex refuse to use any other affirmative words.

Why though?

Long story, tell you later maybe.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Estera rounded the corner of the cathedral and yelped as a strong gust nearly ripped her arm off in its determination to steal her umbrella. She wrestled it back and ducked into the shelter of the huge doorway only to conclude she should have let the wind take it as it was no longer any use to anyone other than as an art piece. “Mangled: A study in nylon and flimsy aluminium” perhaps. She tucked it under her arm and pulled out her phone:

Hi! I’m on The Green :) Don’t worry about coming out in all this, just let me know where you are and I’ll find you.

On my way!

Scott! It’s chucking it down! Just give me directions or somewhere to aim for.

I like the rain!

You’re a nutter.

A what?

… err British for ‘totally normal and rational’.

OK I will take your word for that and begin using ‘nutter’ regularly in a professional context.

Um… sure. I see no issues arising there.

😝 alright then

I think I see you!

She looked up and laughed as she spotted a lanky figure silhouetted against a streetlamp waving enthusiastically from across the green. She raised her arm in greeting, pulled her hood tighter around her face and then jogged towards him. She started out dodging the huge puddles with strictly limited success then gave up in favour of a direct route, swerving off course just the once to dump the useless brolly in a waste bin.

As soggy as she felt she was by the time their paths met, she wasn’t a patch on the drowned-but-grinning rat bouncing gently on his toes before her, hair plastered to his forehead and shirt clinging to him in a way she was relieved Barbara the receptionist couldn’t see.

Wait, shirt?

“Scott! I KNOW you own a coat.”

He waved a hand dismissively. “It always takes so long to dry the thing out. Cotton is fast.”

“Aren’t you freezing?”

“Nope!” He grinned and produced an umbrella with a flourish, pressing a button to automatically extend and open it and then raising it over her head in one smooth motion. The little squeak he emitted as he did so was anything but smooth however.

“Did I just hear an excited giggle from Mr Commander Tracy?”

“Also nope. Definitely not. Unrelatedly aren’t these just-press-the-button-and-SWOOSH-it’s-an-umbrella umbrellas just the best kind of umbrellas?”

Estera raised an eyebrow and wondered with amusement how many drinks he’d managed to put away already. “Certainly beats mine which I just ditched back there…” she looked at him smiling down at her from very much outside the umbrella’s zone of protection, water streaming down his face “although, given you have such a swanky brolly why did you not actually use it?”

“I told you, I like the rain.”

Estera raised an eyebrow. “Well, you’d do well living here then, we get a lot of it.” Shuddering slightly she shook water out of her sleeve. “Shall we get where we’re going before we grow gills?”

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

“He’s going to get absolutely soaked isn’t he?”

Virgil watched his elder brother stroll casually towards the doorway and then launch himself out into the rain like an excited puppy. He couldn’t help smiling fondly.

“You know what he’s like about rain, John. Anyway the wet shirt look isn’t going to do him any harm is it…?”

“VIRGIL! Honestly you’re impossible.” John’s facepalm was a masterpiece.

“Well, before he brings this young lady back, somebody had best update me on what, exactly, we believe her status is.”

“Virgil is convinced they are an item. Scott denies it.”

“I didn’t say that. I just think she’s good for him. He is happy. I like that. So I’m inclined to like her. And if we’re about to meet our future sister-in-law that’s fine by me.”

Penelope chuckled, Virgil the hopeless romantic was certainly living up to expectation. John was frowning slightly however and that intrigued her.

“What do you think, John darling?”

“I’m interested in what has him so… interested. They seem to spend a lot of time talking, yet all I can see they have in common is shared trauma and an unhealthy approach to adrenaline.”

“That is more than many people have when beginning a friendship, John. That doesn’t mean it is all there will ever be. Look at you and I, all we had in common was the inability to escape the weight of our surnames and yet we’ve had some superb times.”

John smiled and raised his lemonade in a silent toast.

“Well, I’m excited” Virgil commented. “Let’s not scare her by being too… you know.” he gestured vaguely.

“Excellent social etiquette tip, there, thank you Virgil.” his brother muttered.

Penelope smiled into her cocktail. This was going to be an interesting evening.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

“You ok?”

Estera had slowed almost imperceptibly as they approached the door to the boutique pub Penny had selected and Scott paused as they reached the shelter of the porch, his hand resting on the heavy oak door.

“Yes! Uh, a little nervous I guess? Last time I spoke to John I was… rather embarrassing.”

“Aww, no you weren’t. You were just worried about me and that’ll go in your favour I promise. It’s pretty much a family pastime from what I can make out…” he pulled an exaggerated grimace and got a little smile in response.

“I can imagine.” She appeared to be steeling herself.

“They don’t bite, I promise. But…” he touched her shoulder lightly and ducked down a little to look her in the eye “if you’d rather not… we could go somewhere else and I can catch up with them later?”

“Oh goodness no. I’m looking forward to it. Honestly, I am! Let’s go inside, it’s freezing out here.”

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

“Hey look, John, Estera found a drowned puppy!”

“Goodness, doesn’t it look tragic?”

Penelope leaned backwards away from Scott as he responded to his brothers’ banter by shaking himself like a dog and showering the table with droplets from his hair before wringing his sleeve out down the back of Virgil’s collar who himself yelped like Sherbet in a snowdrift.

“Right for that you’re buying the next round big brother.”

“And this is novel, how?”

His friend hung back a little, watching the interaction with a mixture of amusement and mild confusion. Penelope gestured to Estera to take a seat beside her and cut across the brotherly jibing:

“Might it be an appropriate moment to introduce us Scott?”

The supposedly eldest and most mature of the pack looked up from where he’d flung his arms around John’s neck in what was clearly a weaponised soggy hug and smiled impishly before moving over and crouching down next to Estera’s chair.

“Estera, this is Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward - she is as lovely as she is fabulous and I’m sure you’ll get along.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that for a moment. And please call me Penny!”

Estera smiled and offered a hand which Penny grasped with both of hers and gave her a conspiratorial wink.

Scott cleared his throat importantly “Next, I am delighted to present for your approval Annoying-Little-Brother-One who also goes by don’t-call-me-Johnny”

“Ha. Ha. Scooter. It’s a pleasure to meet you in person, Estera, although why you are wasting your time in the company of this absolute fool I cannot fathom.”

“And last but very much not least, either in importance or sheer bulk, here is Annoying-Little-Brother-Two who we refer to as short-stuff, the-tank, care-bear or, occasionally, Virgil”

Virgil leaned across the table to shake her hand. “You do realise what an insufferable creature our eldest brother is don’t you?”

“Oh yes, spotted that one straight away.”

Scott clutched his chest and gasped “I am hurt! A plague o’ both houses! I am sped!” before collapsing on to his back with melodramatic flailing and a range of choking noises before lying still with his tongue lolling and eyes rolled back.

Penelope giggled delicately while Estera tutted and rolled her eyes.

“You still have a couple of paragraphs of monologue before you’re allowed to expire, Mercutio. C+ must try harder.”

Scott pouted while John held up his hand for a high five.

Penelope caught Virgil’s eye and he grinned.

“Death doesn’t get you out of your round big bro. Get your soggy butt off the floor and over to the bar while we fill Estera in on some key anecdotes.”

Scott’s expression of dread wasn’t melodrama at all.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #idontknowreallywhy fanfic #tb estera #estera #Scott Tracy #Virgil Tracy #John Tracy #lady penelope #Scott Tracy needs a friend #umbrellas are cool #Shameless cross referencing to other fic

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ejzah · 1 month

Text

In lieu of writing a story, I decided to spend far too much time writing an essay like post on a topic that’s been on my mind recently.

***

Recently I’ve been thinking about characters who change over the course of a series. Particularly, characters who start out fairly normal or serious and then become increasingly more silly, ridiculous, or stupid. For instance, Frank Burns from MASH, Marty Deeks and Eric Beale from NCIS: LA, and Eric Matthews from Boy Meets World, and Tony from NCIS to name a few.

It could be argued that each of these characters had a comedic quality from the beginning. However, comedy was not their sole or defining characteristic. At some point though, the writers seemed to realize that they had a gift for comedy and leaned into that side. The problem is that this occurs with increasing frequency and often without reason.

Some start out as an antagonist, such as Frank Burns. In his first season, he’s described as a “fair” surgeon. He can be ridiculous at times, but is competent enough and mostly known for being overly by the book and military crazed. By the end of his run on the series, he’s a terrible surgeon, constantly makes a fool of himself, and finally ends up chasing after his now married mistress. In this case, instead of making Frank increasingly nasty or, he was made ridiculous to highlight why he wasn’t a suitable leader or surgeon.

In many shows that lean towards the more serious, it’s common to have a character who breaks up the angst, drama, and heaviness. Enter the likes of Eric Beale and Marty Deeks. Though they remained comparatively unscathed compared to some, both characters suffered in the name of comedy.

Eric Beale was a highly skilled tech operator who kept things running from behind the scenes and was critical to the team solving cases. Yet as the series progressed he went an eccentric genius to often odd and ridiculous.

From the beginning of his introduction, Deeks was established as a master at undercover, uniquely intelligent, and capable of using people’s assumptions about himself to his own advantage. Yes, he always talked a lot, but there was usually a purpose. Even in moments when he rambled, it was genuinely funny and not overplayed. However, as the series progressed the very writers who created this extremely intriguing, intelligent, and competent man, seemed to forget these aspects.

In an arc where Deeks is sent to the federal academy, we should have seen him excel. He had years of experience and knowledge compared to his younger peers. Instead, he seemed to forget how engage in arm-to-arm combat, fell asleep during an important task, and could barely keep up during a run. For many fans, this felt like a betrayal of a beloved character we knew.

Often, funny characters are sacrificed to promote a new character. Particularly as a series progresses, instead of letting the newbie gain popularity naturally, they force their merits by downgrading an established character.

You might be wondering, what’s the point of all this? Well, a lot of fans care when their favorite character changes drastically, especially not in a positive way. There’s a difference between a character who can be funny or has select silly/stupid moments, and one who becomes a caricature. We build fandoms our these characters. We invest hours and time, energy and love into writing about them, drawing, and discussing them. Of course it matters when it feels like that same character has been mistreated and disrespected.

I wish that before writers decide to go for the easy laugh, for the stupid joke, for the ridiculous, that they consider the impact on the character and show. It not only destroys your audience’s trust, but also makes it unbelievable when the character is given any content of substance.

#writing #characterization #ncis la #bmw #writers annihilating their characters #fandom #i spent far too long on this #my random thoughts #in this essay

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mischiefmanaged71 · 2 years

Text

The Love Hypothesis (21/22) - Stephen Strange x Reader

Summary: Y/N Y/L/N is a PhD student who wants to prove to her best friend that she has moved on and dating. With no way to prove it, she kisses the first man she sees, which ends up being none other than Dr. Strange, known as one of the most unapproachable and critical professors in the university.

A/N: AU! Stephen Strange is a Professor/Doctor at Columbia University and reader is a Ph.D. student (Reader - 28, Stephen - 34). Credits to Ali Hazelwood for the original story. This work is a piece of fiction. I have no ownership over anything, this is ff.

Pairing: Stephen Strange X FEM! Reader

Word Count: 1K

Series Masterlist

Listening to the dramatized anecdotes from Stephen’s childhood via Hayden, Y/N had an inkling the stories were a culmination of years works to annoy the man to no end.

“Guess there isn’t an age limit for embarrassment.” Hayden said, “Be glad I didn’t delve into the camp stories.” he laughed, shaking his head “I’ve got a few great ones.”

The unimpressed look on Stephen’s face shut Hayden down as he shuffled to the front of the restaurant. She laughed, picking a fortune cookie from the bowl at the front.

“Don’t tell me, you hate these too?”

“I don’t, actually.” Stephen replied, “They just taste like Styrofoam.”

“Probably have similar nutritional values too.” Sam muttered, grabbing one from the bowl.

The rain had stopped, a shiny street under the streetlights. A cool breeze brushing stray leaves around them. The air was refreshing, a contrast to the warmth of the restaurant after many hours indoors.

“ ‘He who laughs at himself never runs out of things to laugh at’ “ Hayden read, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion, “Did this cookie just throw shade at me?”

“I believe so.” Sam replied, “What does yours say, Y/N?”

“It’s fine, actually.”

“I’ll believe it when I hear it.” Nat replied.

“ ‘It’s never too late to tell the truth.’ “ she hummed, tucking the paper in her pocket.

Hayden fixed onto Stephen, “Stephen, open yours.”

He tilted his head to the side, tucking his hands into his pockets. “I’m not going to eat cardboard because you’re offended by the cookie.”

“You’re a shit friend.”

He tutted, “According to the fortune cookie industry, you’re-”

Y/N tugged his arm, “Hand it over. I’ll read it. And eat the cardboard.”

“Stephen is giving you a ride, right?” Sam asked.

“I should be fine, it’s only a ten minute walk back.”

“What about your suitcase?”

“It’s not that heavy.” she dismissed, although glancing back at him, she corrected herself. “Stephen will walk me home, yeah?”

“Course.” he tugged her duffel bag off her shoulder, throwing it over his own.

Once Sam was no longer within earshot, she turned to Stephen.

“Are you sure you want to carry all that weight, you might throw your back out. I hear its common after a certain age.”

“You’re such a comedian, you know that?” he glared at her, following Hayden along to his car while Sam and Nat followed, grabbing a ride with him back to their respective apartments.

“Hey,” Hayden caught her attention, “What did Stephen’s fortune cookie say?”

“Oh, nothing.” she shrugged, looking down “Just ‘Hayden Reyes Ph.D is a loser’ “

Hayden laughed, throwing up his middle finger before they all left in his car.

“What does it really say?”

‘You can fall in love. Someone will catch you.’

“Is it alright if we talk about it? I think it’s only right that we do.”

“We can. We should-” he breathed, “Harvard is going to fire him. Other disciplinary measures are still being decided. There were meetings until late last night. That’s why I didn’t call you earlier. Harvard’s Title IX coordinator will be in touch with you soon.”

“What about your grant?”

He shook his head, “I’m not sure. I don’t particularly care about my grant right now.”

The comment surprised her, until she remembered the professional impact of Tom’s betrayal as a co-worker and friend. “I’m sorry, Stephen. I know he was your friend, you thought you could trust him-”

“I was wrong to have trusted him with you.” He shut his eyes, “I had no idea what he was truly like and that cost you...”

“He wasn’t my friend. I never knew him, obviously.”

“For a bit, I was worried that I would stop you from moving to Boston and doing the grant.”

“I don’t care-I could care less about any of it.” he ran a hand through his hair.

Her eyes glossed over his face, “I think I may have found a lab to finish my study. It’s closer. Means I won’t have to move next year.”

“Y/N, that’s great.” he smiled.

“You also weren’t the only one.”

His face twisted in confusion.

“The meeting in the bathroom. The one before my interview.”

“Did you remember that?”

A laugh bubbled in her throat, “Of course I did. It took me a while to realise it was you, though. Why did you never say anything?”

“You introduced yourself as if we had never met. So I went along with it.”

Her face flushed in embarrassment as he continued, “I had been...thinking about you. For years. I didn’t want to...”

“But you didn’t need to lie.”

“I’ve never lied to you.”

“Even by omission?”

He shrugged, a smirk sliding on his face, “Maybe. Are you upset?”

“Not really. It’s not that bad of a lie.” she mused, “I’m more upset at myself for the terrible ones I created. I didn’t bring it up after I figured it out.”

“Still, if you feel-”

She gripped his hand, “I’m not upset, Stephen.”

He glanced at her, “I’m other things...entirely other things. Glad, for one that this is all out in the open. That we can talk about it.”

“I’m also glad you remembered me.”

“You’re very memorable.”

“Am I really?”

“Do you remember your first seminar talk?”

“Yes. Why?”

“Your elevator pitch - the turbolift pitch. You used a picture from the Next Generation on your slides.”

“You’re a Trekkie too?” she laughed, “I had no idea.”

“I had a phase. And that next year’s picnic when we all got rained on. You played freeze tag with someone’s kid for hours.”

“Dr. Moss’s kid.” she stared at him curiously, “I didn’t think you liked kids.”

“I don’t like twenty-five year olds who act like toddlers. I don’t mind if they’re actually four.”

She smiled, “Knowing who I was. Did that have anything to do with your decision to date me?"

Recognising the dozen of scenarios and replies rushing through his eyes, “I wanted to help you.”

“I know. I believe you. But was that it?”

Stephen pressed his lips together, closing his eyes as he sighed.

“No.” he resigned.

“No.” she repeated, “We’re here.” she looked up at the building.

“Should I carry your bag upstairs?”

She paused, looking up at him, “Maybe later. There’s something I wanted to tell you. Before.”

“Okay.”

He stopped in front of her and she looked at him. There was only a small distance between them. Y/N felt her heart overflow with everything from the past few months catching up to her as she stared at him.

“Throughout all of this, I was a few things, if not, stubborn, in-denial and stupid. I was wrong. This whole time. It’s like statistical hypothesis testing. Type 1 error, right?”

“Type 1 error?”

“Yeah. A false positive. Thinking that something is happening when it isn’t.”

“I know what a Type 1 error is-”

“Course. The most terrifying thing is realising you misread a situation. That I could convince myself of something that wasn’t true. See something that wasn’t there because I wanted to see something.”

“Right.”

“The thing is, I didn’t account that a type 2 error is also bad.”

“Yes. False negatives are bad too.”

“Not being able to see something that’s right in front of you. Purposefully making yourself blind to the truth because you’re afraid of seeing too much.”

“What are you saying?” he stepped closer.

“There have been so many things that happened before I even met you. They changed me and I...have this fear of being alone. Maybe that is why I fabricated all of these lies instead of accepting the truth. I think...” she paused, looking up at him. She inhaled deeply, “I think I forgot myself.”

“What can I do?”

“Just let me tell you.” she gripped his hand.

He didn’t find respite for the uneasy feeing in his stomach but he stopped, nonetheless, squeezing her hand.

“I’ve been lying to you. It’s more by omission, but- I need to tell you this now.” his hands gripped her face now, thumbs swiping away the tears from her cheeks.

“Sweetheart,” he whispered, “What is it?”

“I love you, Stephen.”

A look of surprise crossed his face as he pulled back a breath, searching her face for the truth. And when the realisation flowed through him, Stephen pressed his lips to her’s with the finality of it all reaching them. It was a passionate embrace that stripped the breath from her chest as he breathed her in.

“No idea how long I’ve dreamt of those words.” he exhaled.

TAGS

@goldencherriess @severuined @thewinterpoet2 @pasta-warlord @typical-bistander @judig92 @captainbarness @gaitwae @sleutherclaw @angstsfordays @mavsketch @mando-is-the-way @samisubi @liar-liar13 @evelynrosestuff @stanny-uwu @colorfuly-blog04 @frostandflamesfanfic @katsuphobic @fiadh-bell @awmysherl @sourgrapes-aa @orighami @apple-and-berry @blue-aconite @kaykay0315 @hunterofshadows04 @ohchoices @empty-canvas @99queenrory99 @savage-rhi @shutupwylow @singhfae @loki-is-loved @jotaros-bara-tiddies @cottagecore-cat @simpforreadheads @levitationcloak @hospitaldaydream @elicheel @supervengerslock @clockblobber @multi-obsessed-fanfic-writer @classicrebound @sherlockstrangewolf @veryladyqueen

#stephen strange x reader #doctor strange x reader #stephen strange #doctor strange #the love hypothesis au #the love hypothesis #doctor strange x y/n #stephen strange x y/n

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bohemian-nights · 8 months

Note

"...but why should she even be Valyrian? I'm terribly afraid that the point keeps going over your head"

She is of valyrian blood. What sort of racist shit are you saying? A black/brown woman can't have valyrian blood because of their skin color??? This argument is inherently racist and has been called out in the fandom already. Don't you wonder why it's Netty whose valyrian heritage gets questioned and not Addam/Alyn? George is already hinting at the racism yet here you are parroting the same racist shit. George literally wrote Brown Ben Plumm, the same guy whose Dany's dragons are comfortable with, as having valyrian blood. He wrote lores about dragonriding. Nettles is a dragonseed. You talk against racism but speak like a racist.

You sent me this and two other anonymous messages within an hour of each other(each sounding more ridiculous than the last).

It’s clear that you are spiraling and have a bad case of I’m not listening disorder, therefore this will be the last time that I respond to your unhinged rants.

This is how you(and the others who parrot this garbage) sound when you say Nettles’ fantastically brilliant Black self(don’t think I can’t see you still trying to be slick about her race) can’t be a non-Valyrian dragonrider: “How dare you say Black girls are pretty/talented/smart. Only non-Black girls are pretty/talented/smart and if you say otherwise you are a liar who doesn’t respect her betters.”

That’s the exact logic you are using Miss I’m not a racist, you are the real racist 🙃 GRRM isn’t writing this story to tell us how special the Targs are and that Targ supremacy is justified, but you are more than welcome to think that if you can’t handle the fact that a Black non-Valyrian girl was able to claim and tame a wild dragon🤷🏽‍♀️

According to GRRM, Nettles is a legal adult while Rhaenyra is a minor when they begin their respective relationships with Daemon. Additionally, Daemon has known Rhaenyra since she was a child and she’s his niece. He only knew Nettles when she was a legal consenting adult who could’ve gotten herself the hell out of dodge if she wanted to.

There is no way a smart girl like Netty who found it preferable to be homeless than be used by men for their pleasure would stay where she didn’t want to be. No matter how much you go on about it, Dettles≠Dumbnyra, and yes, a racist white woman is the villain here(last time I checked CSA doesn't make you into a racist and it doesn't excuse trying to make a pregnant woman into a hate crime statistics. She's a victim of Daemon, but she's a villain to Nettles. She’s responsible for her own actions here)🤷🏽‍♀️

Calling me a “white male worshipper” is ironic considering I’ve had someone accuse me of “only wanting to put Black women with Black men” due to shipping Baela and Alyn rather than Baela and Jace. It can’t be both so I need someone to tell me ASAP(no Rocky) which one is it.

So now you care about Black women 🙃 I like Baegon in an AU setting where Aegon knows how to act right, not how he is in show/book canon. Laughable that you actually think I’m using Baela as a proxy(or any of these ladies) to lust over Aegon of all characters 🫠Like I said, you are unhinged.

If anyone wants to know the fastest way you’ll get blocked by me it’s this(being butthurt you got called out so now you have descended into spamming me with your drivel).

#bnasks #bnask #a tragedy 🎭#hotd fandom nonsense

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mismaeve · 2 years

Text

After Hours

↳ Armitage Summer Splash, Nr.9 Trope: Coffee Shop Prompt: "You've never cared about me. Only yourself" RA Character: Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!Reader, Modern AU Warnings: None Word Count: 2.1k A/N: Well, I don't know what this is, all I know is that I was rushing and I was excited. I've not written for him before at all, so go easy on me. I'm very insecure about this piece, but here it is. Hope it will be somewhat enjoyable. And also, thank you so much @i-did-not-mean-to for encouraging me and believing in me. Love you tons!

Why you had agreed to this disaster in the making, you couldn’t tell, but when the dark-haired bundle of muscle and unruly gruff finally arrived – an hour late as per usual – you realised it no longer mattered.

It wasn’t surprising either when you caught yourself sporting a self-indulgent look of smugness while watching the star quarterback stroll past the group of cheerleaders and otherwise swooning girls that stalked his every move with dreamy eyes and wishful sighs – made even better by the fact that Thorin appeared to be completely oblivious to it all – as he made his way towards the counter where you were waiting for him. You had to admit, it felt good being the sole reason for his being there. Not to mention, it would give them all something to talk about, even if they didn’t know the full story as to why Thorin kept meeting you at the café where you worked at precisely – a good hour later – 5pm every day.

Having long decided that you weren’t going to be one of those girls, you quickly replaced your smug grin with a slightly annoyed expression, after all – he was late.

“Hey,” Thorin greeted you with his usual half-smile, half-smirk, otherwise known as the lady charmer, that was fool-proof and bound to work on any female in the near vicinity. Except for you, that is.

“You’re late again, Thorin,” you offered him an unimpressed look while reaching for a clean mug to fill it with freshly pressed coffee. No milk and two sugars; you could thank your lucky stars that he wasn’t one of those coffee-snobs who somehow always managed to make complete fools out of themselves by using words they barely knew or understood and subjecting themselves to trendy drinks they’d otherwise find repulsive. No, Thorin was into the classics.

“Yeah, sorry about that. Coach wanted to talk after practice,” he sighed, a formless shadow descending upon his sun-kissed features, making him appear somewhat thoughtful, regretful even.

“Bad news?” you asked as you placed the steaming hot cup of coffee in front of his now sulking frame.

Although football wasn’t necessarily the one thing Thorin was most passionate about, he still enjoyed it, and judging by the looks of him now, something must have gone wrong. It couldn’t have been that bad though, he was too good to be taken off the team or even benched for the season for whatever reasons, so it had to be something else. A healthy rivalry among teammates gone too far? Early practice drills when normally half the town would still be snoozing?

“I’ve been offered varsity captain,” Thorin mumbled while avoiding meeting your questioning gaze.

Varsity captain was a huge deal, the kind that often came with scholarships and Ivy League Schools. While Thorin wasn’t interested in becoming the new poster boy for Princeton, he was in sore need of those scholarships. His foster parents had been good to him, but they lacked the funds to lend Thorin a helping hand in terms of college tuition.

“And that’s bad?” you raised an eyebrow, not understanding why he was acting as if someone had just told him his entire life was over when in fact it was getting brighter by the minute.

Slowly, almost begrudgingly, Thorin met your gaze. He looked very serious and almost mournful, the complete opposite of how a guy should look like after being offered varsity captain.

“Means I’ll have no time for music,” he said at last, his dark eyes watching and waiting for your reaction. Music had been the reason behind you starting to meet at your workplace after school to begin with, naturally Thorin thought you wouldn’t be too thrilled about his latest accomplishment on the football field when he had spent the better half of the first semester trying to talk you into mentoring him, after which you had warned him that he wouldn’t be able to do both things at once. Or do them well, for that matter.

Your heart sank against your will once you realized where he was going with this. You had known better than to ever dream that he’d pick music – you – over football if it ever came down to it. As passionate as Thorin was about music, he found himself pressured to lead the kind of life that was expected of him, and no one expected or even suspected him of being interested in music, let alone humbly dreaming of making a life out of it.

But what broke your heart even more was the devastating realization that he wasn’t even going to try and make it work, hence the guilty gleam in his brown eyes. He was going to sacrifice one for the other, just like any other sane and rational – impulsive and stupid – teenage boy would do, never mind the consequences or whose feelings might get hurt in the process.

“You’re unbelievable,” you breathed out while slowly shaking your head, a part of you still refusing to believe the madness he was knowingly subjecting himself to. His best years wasted and spent on doing something that would leave a bleeding hole in his heart.

“You don’t get it,” Thorin insisted, hoping that he’d be able to make you see things his way, or at least try and make you respect his decision however moronic you might think it to be.

“I’m pretty sure I do. You’re about to throw everything that you worked so hard for away at the slightest inconvenience. Instead of trying and putting effort into both things, you choose the easy way out by ditching one for the other,” you felt you couldn’t control yourself, the hurt had taken you by surprise and just like any smart girl, you knew the best defense was a very good offense.

“And what pisses me off the most is you don’t even love football!”

You hadn’t realized you were shouting until it was already too late. Half the café had heard you and would soon be tweeting about how Thorin Oakenshield, the best quarterback Erebor High had seen in decades, turned out to be blasphemous about the very thing that would secure his golden ticket out of their sorry excuse of a town.

Not only had you embarrassed Thorin – who looked positively taken aback by your sudden surge of fiery temper – in front of half the Pep Squad and other patrons, but you had also humiliated yourself at the place you worked and would probably continue to work long after Thorin had gone away for college. Provided your superiors would see fit to forgive you this little – horrific – incident.

“Look, I’m sorry, really I am,” Thorin tried to take your hand in his, but you moved yours away before he could reach it.

“Sorry? For wasting my time? For having me foolishly believe in you?” you demanded as you felt yourself surrender to another eruption of blind rage, caused by the bitter and foul betrayal of your so-called friend. Thankfully, you could restrain yourself enough to keep your voice down.

“You’ve never really cared about music or making it work. You’ve never cared about me. Only yourself,” your uttered words embodied the heartbreaking realization that made your stomach hurt, a heavy fist gripping your insides and pulling them whichever way was possible. What a little fool you had been after all, falling for his charm and empty platitudes, thinking he had been sincere when you should have known better.

You were worse than a walking and singing cliché.

You had expected there to be ‘I’m sorry’ texts and a couple of missed calls, maybe even a groveling voicemail or two. But there had been none of that. Nothing.

As days went by, you were suddenly faced with the harsh reality of how your life would look like without Thorin Oakenshield. The morning shift no longer rushed by, fueled by your excitement to see your friend – crush – and your afternoons were spent in deafening solitude, no longer filled with the hearty laughs of the dark-haired boy who dreamed of becoming a musician.

His sheet music laid untouched on your desk, devoid of his nearly undecipherable scribbles and remarks. The sweet and thoughtful notes remained a dark ink on white paper, unable to be heard and loved.

Had it really been your right to be this harsh with him, or had it been your wounded pride and heart that had lashed out irrationally without a single regard for the consequences of your petulant outburst. Who were you to tell him how he should or shouldn’t live his life when all you had ever done was mess up your own? How despicable you were for calling him selfish, how rich it must have sounded – the kettle calling the pot black.

With a sigh that spoke volumes of your inner disgust towards yourself, you closed the book and let it slip from your hands and onto your lap. Your eyes drifted to your cellphone, right there on your nightstand where you had left it after your previous debate of whether you should bite the bullet and call Thorin first.

What would you say anyway? I’m sorry for being a bitch? For being such a girl about it – that alone was enough to make you shiver in subtle loathing – when we both know it makes sense for you to see it through as varsity captain. I’m sorry for having thought there could be more between us? None of them sounded right, yet all of them were the truth.

Were you scared? Ashamed? Worried that you might have lost the best thing to ever dare venture into the dumpster fire that was your life? Devastated because maybe you had already fallen for him and now there was no hope left?

All of the above.

Just as you had decided to take a break from your own personal pity-party and see if the next chapter of your book would manage to restore your will to live, the screen of your cell lit up with a picture of Thorin.

Reassuring yourself that a heart skipping a beat or two was not life threatening, you threw aside your book and reached for the cellphone.

The café was deserted, all the blinds had been lowered and drawn, and the majority of the lights were off save for the one directly above where Thorin was sitting on one of the barstools with his hand-me-down guitar on his lap. His expression was stone hard and unreadable when he motioned with his hand for you to take a seat at the table closest to him.

Confused as you were, but not about to disobey and ruin any luck of moving past your argument, you stiffly led yourself to your ordained seat while your eyes remained peeled on Thorin who held your gaze until he was certain you weren’t going to get up and storm out. Again.

A few nervous heartbeats later, he began to play his guitar, filling the dark and desolate café with a beautiful melody. It wasn’t one you had heard before and you had listened to them all which made you suspect that this one must be new and composed entirely without your help and expert guidance. It sounded lovely even as it bore faint hints of sadness and regret - that could have easily just been wishful thinking on your part.

And then Thorin Oakenshield began to sing. The usual gruff and edginess were replaced by a deep soft velvety voice that got the hairs on your arms rising in awe and a swarm of spring butterflies burst free from their timeless cocoons. His voice was filled with love and longing as he told the story of the girl with the beautiful gift, one she had tried to share with a silly boy who hadn’t been ready for her yet.

Fighting the tears that were beginning to sting your eyes was pointless, how could you resist when Thorin sang about the girl with the gentle soul and burning heart, whose love was a great vast ocean, so deep and wild; whose courage was an endless blue sky for as far as the eye could see; whose temper was a hot and bright blaze, wicked in its untamed ways. And how all the silly boy could do was try his best to keep up and not drown and pray that one day the girl might take pity on him and forgive him his ignorant ways, for despite his less than admirable actions, his heart too was longing and burning for hers.

Hot tears of gratitude and relief trickled down your cheeks, your heart undeniably touched by his creative apology and thoughtful gesture, one that had ultimately left you speechless and fluttery, and wanting for more.

More songs, more love, more nights like this one and more of Thorin Oakenshield and that angelic voice he possessed.

Liked it? Likes/reblogs/comments are hugely appreciated and encouraged!

Thank you @lathalea and @fizzyxcustard for organising the event!

Divider by @firefly-graphics, moodboard created by me

#Armitage Summer Splash #thorin #thorin oakenshield #modern au #coffee shop au #thorin x reader #thorin x you #the hobbit #tolkien #thorin fanfic

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bittykimmy13 · 2 years

Text

Beneath the Surface (GT) - Chapter 5 (Final)

With their two weeks together coming to a close, Galen and Leigh contemplate what things will look like for them moving forward.

This story was commissioned by @sizechuan

(( Beneath the Surface Tag ))

CHAPTER 5: RELEASE

On Thursday afternoon, the truck started honking in front of Galen’s house an hour earlier than usual. He hurriedly threw on his trunks and t-shirt and headed outside. He stopped abruptly when he closed the door behind him—Beth was leaning out of the driver’s side door, and Leigh was nowhere to be seen.

“What happened?” Galen demanded, striding as quickly as he could toward the truck. “Did something happen to her? Was it Bruce? I told her—”

“Slow down before you mess up your knee again.” Beth jerked a thumb at the cargo hold. “Get in. Leigh’s working a little late and I’ve got a meeting soon, so this is the only way it could work with getting you there on time.”

Galen frowned. “If she’s working late, why bother having a session today? She’ll be exhausted, won’t she?”

Beth gave him a long look, then rubbed her temples. “Why? Don’t tell me you had a head injury to go along with the knee.” When Galen couldn’t conjure a response to that, Beth heaved a sigh. ��You know what? She told me about how you got in one of the sea turtle’s tanks.”

“Tortellini,” he said.

He could barely make out her expression with the way her sunglasses ate her face, but he could picture her rolling her eyes. “Tortellini. As I was saying… Leigh’s protective of the animals she takes care of. Like… mama-bear-who-will-claw-you-to- death protective. Frankly, I’m shocked she let you near the pavilion at all. But to let you share the same water as one of her babies? I’m flabbergasted.”

“Are you planning to get to your point, or should I pull up a chair?”

“I’ve seen the way you look at her, too.”

Heat rose to Galen’s cheeks. He scowled at Beth, part of him hoping she’d be intimidated, the same way people always were when he looked anything less than friendly. But she just stared right back at him, so much smaller yet just as stubborn. He braced himself for Beth to threaten him to stay far away from Leigh.

Instead, she lowered her sunglasses and looked more cross than murderous. “Don’t screw things up,” she said. “Against all odds, she seems… happy around you. You hurt her, you lead her on or break her heart, I will find a way to give you twenty-to-life. Got that?”

Startled, he laughed uncomfortably. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I don’t… I mean, she and I aren’t…” He distractedly adjusted his beanie, wishing Beth and her knowing stare would just go away. He huffed. “We’re friends.”

Beth chuckled humorlessly. “Sure. Don’t make me repeat myself. Get in the truck.”

Desperate to avoid any further discussion on the matter, he did as he was told.

When they arrived at the sanctuary, Galen was almost unnerved to see that the pavilion had people wandering around. He shouldn’t have been shocked—Beth had finally explained that the sanctuary had been short on help lately and needed to extend their working hours so Leigh could add another tour.

Still, he was so used to the calm and quiet of the pavilion, he made it a point to hang back near the edge. It came as no shock to him that no one in there was his height. Rockrest wasn’t known to attract bigger visitors.

Leigh was in the middle of a presentation in front of the bleachers. She paced on the platform that circled Bruce’s tank, talking animatedly. He couldn’t hear her from so far away, but he imagined she was bragging about how good she was at not being eaten alive by sharks. When she circled around the other side, she spotted him at the edge of the pavilion.

Galen stiffened, expecting her to look away and ignore him. He would understand; she was working. But even from a distance, she could see the way her eyes lit up as she waved at him. He gave a half-wave, his face growing hot again.

Dammit, Beth.

When her presentation was over, Leigh welcomed the guests to roam around and look at the inhabitants of the tanks for fifteen minutes before the sanctuary closed. The moment she was able, she waltzed over to Galen and smiled.

“You don’t have to back yourself into a corner just because there’s people around,” she said.

He shrugged. “I didn’t pay admission.”

She shrugged more aggressively. “I don’t see security.”

Before he could quip back, a mother leading her kids around called out to Leigh. “Excuse me, miss? What kind of shark did you say was in that tank?”

Bubbling with as much energy as ever, Leigh ran off to join the family at Bruce’s tank. Meanwhile, Galen found himself feeling out of place again. Slowly, he allowed himself to walk around the outskirts at least. His goal was to get to the empty tank and wait for Leigh’s shift to be over.

On his way there, he spotted three little kids pressing their hands to the glass of a nearby tank. They were asking questions to each other, debating on why one of its flippers looked different than the others. Just when the debate about robot arms and plastic fins was getting heated, Galen found himself clearing his throat.

“His name is Tortellini.”

The kids flinched in unison and turned to him in surprise. There were two boys and a girl—siblings, by the look of it. They visibly stepped closer together, staring up at Galen with a touch of wariness.

He turned away, not wanting to see the moment they would run away from him. But he stopped mid-step when the girl piped up.

“Why does Tortellini have a robot arm?” There was uncertainty in her voice, but also a small giggle when she said the turtle’s name.

“It, uh… it’s not a robot arm.” Galen paused and looked toward Leigh. She was still busy with the other family.

“I told you it wasn’t a robot arm,” one of the boys said, elbowing his sister’s arm.

She shrugged him off and pointedly ignored him, still looking at Galen instead. “What is it, then?” she asked.

Hesitantly, Galen lowered himself to sit by the tank. At least that way it wouldn’t feel like he was talking down to them too much. “It’s called a prosthetic. His flipper was hurt in an accident, so the people here helped by making him a new one.”

He thought that would be the end of it, that the kids would simply nod at his answer and move on to the next tank. Instead, he was treated to a dozen more questions all at once. What did Tortellini eat? Did he ever share the tank with friends? How fast could he swim? Galen answered as best he could, managing to slow the kids down to one question at a time until they were satisfied.

From the corner of his eye, Galen spotted Leigh watching. She was beaming.

As the tour came to an end and everyone filtered out of the pavilion, he should have been happy to finally have Leigh to himself for the session. But as much as he hated to admit it, there was something fun about talking to those kids about sea turtles. He tried to ignore the feeling, only to wrestle with the bittersweetness that tomorrow’s session would be the last.

It was hard not to let it distract him while Leigh worked with him that afternoon, just as chipper as she ever was.

“Something’s off,” Gale announced the moment he got out of the truck at the sanctuary.

Leigh’s heart did a backflip as she shut the driver side door and faced him. “What makes you say that?”

“I thought about it the whole ride over. You hardly said a word when you picked me up.” He crossed his arms. “That makes me think you’re… up to something.”

She put a hand to her chest in feigned astonishment. “Well, I am shocked. Wounded. Just because I’m not talking your ear off means that I’m up to something?”

He raised his eyebrows. “Yep. You just strike me as the kind of person who’s not good at keeping secrets. So you decided that hardly talking would help. What is it? It’s our last session—how bad can it be?”

Leigh cocked her head, certain that she detected some faint somberness in his voice when he said that. Hope fluttered inside her, but she stifled it for now. “Okay, okay, you got me. I just didn’t want to tell you back at your place because I was afraid you wouldn’t come if you knew what we were doing today.”

She waved him over toward the pavilion. He hesitated before following, stopping dead in his tracks when he caught a glimpse of what was going on. A couple of other sanctuary workers were loading a large tank into the back of a truck.

“We’re going to the beach this evening,” Leigh said brightly. “We’re releasing one of our rescues today, and well… I’ve never missed a release before. Plus, I think you’re ready to work with the resistance of the waves. It’ll be good practice! So even though we’ll be done with our sessions, you can keep going out there to work on your healing, and—”

“Leigh, which rescue is being released?”

She smiled sheepishly. “I think you know.”

“Bruce?”

“Ding-ding-ding.”

He sighed heavily, lowering himself to sit on the pavement while the truck was latched up. Leigh inched closer, looking up to get a read on his expression. “You thought I’d say no to that?” he said.

“Well, you said you’d never get into the shark tank. And I am technically asking you to get into a body of water that contains Bruce.”

“I mean, it’s a body of water that technically contains most sharks.” He pursed his lips, and for a moment, Leigh thought he was seriously considering walking home from there. But finally, he said, “Fine. Should I get back in the truck?”

Grinning, she leaned in and tugged on his shirt. “If it’s walking distance for me, it’s walking distance for you. Let’s go.”

Releases were always bittersweet, but saying goodbye to Bruce in particular left Leigh misty-eyed. She stood on the shore while the other sanctuary employees carefully transported the tank to deep enough water to free him. It wasn’t long before he vanished from sight entirely, no doubt enthralled to have the whole ocean to swim in again.

“We weren’t sure if we were going to be able to release him at all at first,” Leigh told Galen. “His injury was so bad, we thought he’d have to be a lifer.”

“Like Tortellini?”

“Exactly.” She sighed and gave up on trying to spot the shark in the choppy waves. The rest of the team was already packing up. “I feel like a mother watching her kid go off to college.”

Galen chuckled. “Is that how you’re going to feel with me?”

She bit her lip and looked up at him, wondering if she should ask him now. But she held off. If the conversation didn’t go as planned, she doubted Galen would want to stick around for an awkward session.

“Well, I can’t tell you that until we’re done,” she said brightly. She strode to the lapping shore and walked backward to face him. “Come on, don’t be scared—Bruce is long gone by now, swimming off to find some food.”

“I’m not scared,” Galen huffed, hurrying to follow her and catching up in no time.

Leigh backed up until her feet couldn’t touch the sand anymore. Maneuvering the waves was easy at first, but they were soon battering her when they reached water levels that went up to Galen’s chest. She tried to look like this was nothing for her, but Galen only had to observe her for a few seconds before he reached out to steady her.

His hands clasped around her waist and kept the waves from sweeping her further away. She swore she saw color rose to his cheeks, and he was quick to justify himself.

“Just don’t want you to be carried off and turn into Bruce’s dinner,” he said.

She snorted, latching her hands onto his forearms. “How does your knee feel with the waves?”

“Sore, but…” He hesitated, glancing up at the darkening sky. A heavier wave crashed into Leigh from the back, inadvertently drawing her closer to him. “It’s so much better than before. I dunno if I’ll be one-hundred percent ready for work on Monday, but even being able to walk is progress. And look… I don’t know when I’ll be able to pay you—”

“Don’t worry about it.” Her heart began beating faster. She tightened her fingers on his arms. He frowned down at her, clearly about to ask what the matter was, so she spat it out. “In fact, I’ve got another offer for you.”

He squinted at her. “What?”

“I talked to the owners at Sealife.” She swallowed hard. “And they agree that we’ve been too shorthanded lately. You said you were unhappy with your construction job, so I want you to come work with us.”

He stared hard at her, another wave pushing her closer until she had to practically look straight up at him. He said nothing, so she babbled on.

“I mean, you’d still have to do some heavy lifting, but you also seem so comfortable around the animals—except Bruce—but he’s gone, and even if we got another shark, you wouldn’t have to touch it.” She cut herself off and held eye contact with Galen, who still hadn’t said a word. “Well?” she prompted.

For another beat, he said nothing. Then he shook his head like he was coming out of a trance. “Sorry, I got distracted—I always thought your eyes were brown. I just noticed they’re green.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “Are you okay?”

The grip around her waist faltered before tightening. Not to a level of discomfort—almost like he wanted to make sure that she was real. That what she had said was real.

“If I take the job,” he said slowly, “do I have to deal with Beth supervising all the time?”

“Occasionally. But mostly you’d just have to deal with me supervising. Since I’ll technically be your boss, having seniority and all.”

He scoffed. “Now, that I’m not sure I could handle.”

She shoved his arm. “Rude! I’m an excellent boss!” But she still held a kernel of doubt. “So… is that a yes? You don’t have to decide right now. I figured it’d be a good place to start while you try to figure out what your passion is, so—”

“Yes,” he said, shaking his head exasperatedly. “Yes, I’d love to come work with you.”

“For me.”

“Don’t push it.”

“Is that any way to talk to your boss?”

“Do you want me to launch you into the sea?”

More out of reflex than any sort of rational thought, she pushed the rest of the way forward and hugged him around the neck. For a second, she worried he might pull her away. But to her shock, his hands moved higher and allowed a brief embrace.

Her heart was still pounding like mad. She hoped he couldn’t feel it with all the waves. But then again, she could feel his pounding like a drum, maybe just as fast.

((Author’s note: And that’s the end!! Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed this little slice-of-life drama with these two cuties 🥰))

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sanyu-thewitch05 · 1 year

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Girls in Red

Wonderland

Savannah

Completely Under Your Love

What’s Real and What’s Not

Sandy Skies Ahead

"Ok, the mirror should be all fixed. You know what to do, Yuu," Crowley says, sitting in a chair while reading a romance novel.

"I hope you come and get me if I'm in trouble," I sneer, annoyed by Crowley's lack of caring for my wellbeing.

"You'll be fine. Besides, Ace and Deuce already entered before you."

"They what?! Why didn't you tell me this sooner?"

"I was being oh so kind and wanted to surprise you! Who wouldn't want friends helping them out?"

"In case you've forgotten, I have almost died there, sir! You know what, never mind! I'll find them on our own! Come on, Grim!"

Grim and I angrily go in the mirror and land on the bright green grass, wearing red cloaks. My hair is a rose red, while Grim has red in the places where blue usually is.

"Oh, cool, we're Rose Red! My mom used to tell me about how she was Snow White's sister that everyone left out!" I squeal, looking at her red locks. "I've got to take a picture of this."

Grim hands me the camera Crowley gave me, and we take a selfie in their new forms. I put the photo in a nice place where it will stay and venture through the woods to find the Evil Queen's castle. After an hour of going through bushes, vines, and logs, we find the Evil Queen's castle. It's bigger than usually pictured, and the well is shiny and clean.

"Woah, this place is amazing!" I squeal, dusting myself off.

"Snow White, go see who's at the door?!" The Evil Queen yells, making Grim and I think of running away.

Neige, known as Snow White, trots down the stairs and hugs me.

"I'm so glad you're back! I'd thought you'd never return from your travels! Tell me, how was it?!" Neige questions, spinning around and hugging me, Rose Red, his sister.

"It was fun! I saw a lot of magical things! Tell me, how is stepmother?" I ask, following Neige up the stairs.

"She's-she's fine. Stepmother has been on edge lately, but we've gotten along better recently. Come on! I have to show you a surprise we made!" Neige exclaims, running up the stairs and going to the Evil Queen's room.

I follow behind and glance at the purple decor around the room. But the most intriguing part was the blood splatter elegantly hidden behind a violet curtain. I tiptoe into the room while holding Grim and find a bloody sight. A young white man with brown hair and noble blue clothing is splayed across the table with his stomach cut open and guts spilling out. His eyes are lifeless but have the eternal look of pleading for help. I back away, knocking over a vase, gaining the attention of Neige and his stepmother.

"We killed him for you," Neige says, touching my shoulder.

"He was looking for you so he could take you away to his kingdom. You have to understand why we did this," The Evil Queen adds, wrapping his arms around my waist.

"No! He wasn't coming for me! He was coming for you, Snow!" I scream, pushing them off of you.

"Why does that matter? I like staying here with my stepmother. I like staying here with you. We don't need anyone else," Neige calmly says, stepping toward me.

God! I go into this story expecting everything to be normal, but instead, I get Norman Bates and his evil stepmother!

"I thought you two hated each other!" I scream, going behind the dead prince.

"Not anymore! I’ve realized there’s more to the world than beauty! And that’s love!” Vil says, making me shiver in disgust.

"I hope you mean love in a platonic way," I groan, trying not to gag. "Oh God, why couldn't I have a story with characters that act normally!"

"Please don't leave. We've only just begun to your presence," Vil pleads, his heels clicking more as he walks toward me.

Neige circles in from the other direction leaving me nowhere to go. Nowhere to go but down, that is! I hold onto Grim tight and leap out the tower window, trying to grasp the vines for a soft and hopefully painless fall. I grab the thorniest part of the vine, inches above the ground. I recoil my hand, rose-red blood going everywhere, and flee for the woods. As I go into the woods, the thorns and vines seem to circle in until I find a cottage.

"Come out, dearest! You can't hide from us for long! You'll never survive in these woods in the dark!" Vil yells, his voice sounding like an old wicked wizard's.

I run to the cottage, lock the door behind her, and hide underneath a small bed. She stays there as the daylight wanes and the woods begin to get a bit wilder.

"Wow, these woods are truly something else," I say, noticing the ground-shaking footsteps of a giant or large beast. "You can hear people talking and the magic gathering all at once."

The cottage door suddenly slams open and hurried footsteps go to a bed next to me. A girl with auburn with dark red hair and a red cape slides underneath a bed accompanied by a lovely gray wolf. Their green eyes look at me, and she flashes a nervous but friendly smile.

"Nice red cape," She compliments, taking down her hood.

"Thank you. Say, are you hiding from someone as well?" I ask, stroking Grim's back as he sleeps.

"It's not the Big Bad Wolf this time. I made a couple of giants mad while trying to help this baker couple break a curse. My friend, Jack, I think he killed a giant's husband, and now the family wants revenge. But what about you? What are you running from?" The girl asks, huddling her knees.

"I was visiting my stepmother and sister-you'll probably know them-the Evil Queen and Snow White. Everything was going well until I found the prince on a table covered in blood, and his stomach split. And to think I thought my sister loved him," I say, still in shock that Snow White and the Evil Queen killed the prince. "Turns out they get along too well and want me to stay in that tower as well.”

"Really? I thought the Evil Queen didn't like Snow? Crazy how things change so fast. My name's Blanchette, but most people call me Little Red Riding Hood. Nice to meet you, now what's yours?"

"My name's Rose Red. Any idea how to get out of these woods?"

"No idea, but most brilliant ideas come in the midst of darkness. Come, it's best we travel now while the giants head toward the kingdom."

Blanchette gets up with me and travels through the woods in the darkness. Our arms are together as we skip through the woods. A man with a blonde bob suddenly appears in front of us, offering his services.

"Oh, Mr. Huntsman, you've appeared again! Off to kill some more beasts?" Blanchette asks, smiling at Rook, the Huntsman.

"No, no. A queen and her stepdaughter have caught my eye. No person, never mind, two would be caught dead in the woods at this time of night," Rook replies, giving a creepy smile.

"Well, we'll be sure to yell for help if we spot them. Good day, sir!" Blanchette says, quickly skipping forward to get away from Rook.

Even though they were feet away, I could still feel Rook's eyes boring through me. The path begins to clear with fewer vines surrounding the road. The road gets darker, and soon, we encounter a black canyon.

"I guess this it?" Blanchette asks, throwing a rock into the darkness only to hear silence. "There's got to be a way across."

"I think we have bigger problems, way bigger problems!" I exclaim, pointing at the giants, Neige and Vil, walking toward us.

"Oh no," Blanchette says, staring at the giant. "Huntsman, if you're around! Now would be a great time to help!"

"Found you!" Neige and Vil say, running towards me.

I make a last-minute duck and Neige and Vil jump into the darkness. Their screams get softer and softer until no one can hear anything except a gentle thud. An arrow hits a giant in the eye, and the two others come tumbling into the dark canyon. Their bodies create a bridge to the other side, letting Little Red and Rose Red(Yuu/me) travel to the brighter side of the woods where the sun rises. We, the two girls in red run across the giant's back, leaving the woods together.

"I made it! We made it!" Blanchette squeals, hugging me while spinning around. "I hope I see you again!"

"Goodbye!" I say, hugging Blanchette back and not letting go. "Oh, wait! Let's take a picture!"

I pull out my ghost camera and take a picture of her and Blanchette. The morning sun washes over the girls, bringing a classic fairytale end to the story.

Grim and I appear outside the Dark Mirror, but with two keys instead of one.

"Ooh! Look! We got a key with a red hood and a mirror!" Grim yells, pawing at my key chain.

"We got more than that, Grim! Look at this awesome cape!" I exclaim, spinning around in the red cape.

"I see you two are happy," Crowley says, getting up from the floor as if he's fallen.

"Yep!" Grim and I say together.

I take out the selfie from earlier and smile at it. I take the photo of Blanchette, myself, Grim, and Blanchette's wolf from the ghost camera, putting it into her cape's pocket. Grim and I skip out of the Mirror Chamber and back to Ramshackle, happy as one can be.

3rd POV

Meanwhile, Ace and Deuce come out of the Mirror Chamber traumatized by what they’ve seen.

“I had no idea fairytales were so brutal!” Ace cries, helping Deuce steady his balance.

“Between chasing Cinderella and getting rid of the giants I’m quite tired of fairytales. What happened with Little Red anyway?” Deuce replies, hobbling out of the room.

“Who knows,” Ace responds.

#twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #twst fairytale jumper au #vil schoenheit #neige leblanche #i wanted to add a bit of into the woods as well #which is making me think of a really good idea for another fanfic

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ivoryielded · 4 months

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— — lady marilda hightower + interrogation.

there is no doubt uthor had been unaware of this turn of events, though marilda is jaundiced at the thought that they should have predicted this. bitterness furthers as concern festers in her belly, so unfamiliar, as she thinks of the other three people who will be interrogated so closely; she can only hope whoever shall inquire the "haen" may as well be as thick up close as anyone else was from distance. decades schooling her own face into submission, the proding unease does not transpire on her features as she takes a seat; instead, a smile greets the interrogator. "my liege, how unfortunate. i had hoped i would have the fortune of seeing my husband once more. albeit that would hardly be fair, uh?"

where were you that night, into the late hours of the evening ?

lips purse as if in thought. "i believe i stayed in the gardens a couple of hours after our newlyweds left for their chambers. you may recall, lord bulwer had to be held upwards by one of the poor kingsguards after that idiot nearly slipped on a puddle of vomit. personally, i would have much rather if he had fallen." nonchalant, she waves a hand, before bringing her chin down on the palm. "afterwards, i bid good evening to my kin and went to the master of the ship's quarters. my youngest is going through the most dreadful phase of only sleeping clung to me."

is there anyone who can verify your story ?

"besides my bothersome six year old, i'd reckon my husband. a couple of kitchen girls i requested for spiced milk and wine, too. one of them was named angelica?"

had you ever met the ruling lord melvan arryn ? if so, did you know him or particularly like him ?

"why, as well as any other council member, for the past thirty and something years, my liege." derisive smile covers tinted lips. she had known more about the king's council than melvan — longer, at least, than that fateful day that obnoxious man took over the lannister council seat. a vicious predator replaced by a winged rat, she had joked at the time, though, of course, lord arryn had proved himself to have claws of his own. "lord melvan was a competent man, a most faithful hand. when he remembered to have a humor, he was not unpleasant company."

how do you feel about house arryn ?

there is little manner for her to conceal boredom, by now. this is hardly a risky question, too, not one she cares to pretend. "i do not feel, or think about the arryn at all. quite a long way from oldtown to the mountains, you see."

how do you feel about the king, orys baratheon ?

ah, now. by law and the love she has for her own life, even at the risk of nausea, marilda knows to play sycophantic. "i would never name my son after a man unworthy of his name, as i have with my orys." as if she cared about such a small thing as names.

apart from the official announcement, did you hear anything worth remembering about the incident or anything suspicious that night ?

“was lord bulwer’s story not riveting enough, darling?” the trying levity ceases a moment later, lingering only in her gaze before she turns it upwards, leaning back on her seat as if she thought it deeply. “i did not recognize the last page boy who served lord arryn, but it has been quite a few moons since i’ve been in the keep.”

if you were to slice an apple, which hand would you use ?

now, this is just tiresome. whoever came up with these questions? “i am right handed, my liege. and i have never made an apple bleed, i swear to you despite what lady fossoway may say. her hand was in the way of my needle, is all.”

is there anything else you can tell us that would be beneficial to finding the late lord arryn's murderer ?

“not at this moment, but perhaps i know a person or two our mistress of whispers do not?” a brow is raised, half a dare, half an offer. “i know where to find you if that’s the case.”

#swordtask

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kemendin · 1 year

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hello! 7, 8, 10 and 14 for the SWTOR player asks, please :)

7. Which player voice actor is your favorite and your least favorite?

I haven’t played through all of them yet, so of the ones I’ve experienced - male Jedi Knight is probably my fave, I feel like he hits more emotional ups and downs than a lot of the others (and he’s pretty close to what Caspian should actually sound like, so I’m biased.) That said, I adore the accent of the male Sith Warrior as well. Not a fan of the male Sith Inquisitor.

8. Name your top favorite companions (feel free to include reasons why).

S C O U R G E: I could go on for pages about this man and I could listen to his voice for hours. He’s just so layered and complex and he’s seen so much. I love how he’s both unflinchingly ruthless and incredibly open-minded. He makes you THINK and QUESTION and at the same time, he admits at multiple points that he is learning from the Knight as well. And he does NOT get enough credit for his sass and deadpan sense of humour. Theron Shan: He’s witty, he’s reckless, he’s running on five cups of caf at any given point, and he cares so much more than he wants you to know. And despite his casual attitude, he is REALLY good at his job. I think that gets undersold sometimes. Malavai Quinn: Yeah I still don’t know how this one happened. I blame Khel and seeing everything through his lens. Quinn is incredibly intelligent and there’s a lot going on behind his veneer of stiff and proper Imperial officer - he has passions, and he can be quite vicious, but I also like how he consistently disapproves of senseless cruelty.

Honourable mentions to Kira, Lana, Vector, and T7.

10. Favorite love interest?

IS THIS EVEN A QUESTION

Okay but seriously - Scourge. So much Scourge. Cannot even begin to explain the depth and complexity of my feelings about him and Caspian. (I’ll try)

So this is very much coloured by MY PERSONAL INTERPRETATION of their relationship as it progresses, because you can only romance Scourge so late in the game (and as an aside, I am totally happy with that timing. It works for the story, that wait was agonising but absolutely worth it.) Allow me to drop a blurb from my lengthy WIP:

“Are you serious?” Another small, surprised laugh bubbled from Kira’s lips. “Scourge - the Force gave you a vision of this guy centuries before he even existed. You dedicated nearly your entire life to serving your enemy, living under his control, all in the belief that one day, this unknown Jedi in your vision would appear, and you’d join forces with him to bring down the greatest threat the galaxy’s ever known. And that’s exactly what you’ve done. Say what you want, but by anyone else’s standard that sounds pretty damn romantic. If it had been me, I think I’d have fallen for you too.”

Scourge blinked. “You make it sound far more shallow than it is,” he muttered, feeling another swell of heat that rose to stain his face.

“No, it’s not shallow at all. That’s my point.” Kira was watching him earnestly now, not even commenting on his flushed features. “You two were literally brought together by the will of the Force. I mean, a Jedi and a Sith, practically icons of their respective sides, hugely different people with wildly opposing values - you two couldn’t go half a day without an argument, when you first joined up, remember? But you still found a way to put all that aside and become something different altogether. Something more.”

This dichotomy is what’s so compelling to me about Cas/Scourge. There’s the whole ‘enemies to allies to lovers’ thing of course, but even deeper than that, their story is about how they’ve taken the will of the Force, the destiny the Force has crafted for them in joining together to defeat the Emperor, and they’ve made it their own. At the end of the day, they’re not doing this because the Force willed it - they are CHOOSING to be together, CHOOSING to find their common ground and learn and grow together, and that’s more powerful than any destiny.

14. Favorite planet story arc?

I’ll be honest, I’m terrible at remembering the planet stories as opposed to the class stories that take place on them. But on instinct I’ll go with Belsavis. I love the progression of going deeper and deeper into the dangers of the prison and its vaults, exploring not only what the Republic imprisoned here, but what the Rakata left behind. And on a similar Rakata note, Tatooine is great, the slow uncovering of the mystery of what Czerka found beneath the sands is always compelling when I go through it.

#swtor #star wars the old republic #the old republic #lord scourge #theron shan #malavai quinn #kem answers #can you tell i have too many feelings about scourge

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cartoonfangirl1218 · 1 year

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A Friendly Interrogation

Note: Originally this was going to be an Estenaomi since I do so few of those but it just didn’t fit the mood of the piece so I won’t with a very old ship that was mentioned in the beginning of EOA fandom days. Esteban and Prof. Mendoza. probably stemming with how easily Prof. Mendoza dispatched Esteban’s foibles with aplumb in Finders Leapers.

“I’m just saying, I should get to interrogate her too! I’m one of your best friends. I’m the one who said she’d be perfect for you!”

Esteban rubbed his temples in annoyance at his companion’s insistence that she talk to Zelia about their new relationship. Honestly, Dona Paloma was like a dog with a bone on the subject of his romantic life. First, trying to set him up, now this. And how the hell did they went from tariffs to this topic anyway?

“My family has already met her over dinner and like her, and you didn’t set us up. We’ve known each other for years before you even suggested I go out with her.”

“But I’m the one who said you should date her. I set you up, I expect full credit at your future wedding. Can I plan it?”

Esteban facepalmed, groaning, “No, I’m not putting my wedding in your hands. And you don’t get credit for anything. My relationship with Zelia progressed without any interference from you.”

“I just want to see how happy she is with you and if she deserves you,” Dona protested, swiping the hand that was still stuck to Esteban’s face.

“She is enough for me.” Esteban snapped meaningfully at the insuination of Zelia’s character, “She is more than enough. It’s not a matter of whether she deserves me.”

“Please, Esteban. It’s not fair. I’m practically your family. I’ve seen you at your worst. I don’t want you to be hurt again.

Esteban almost did a double-take at that comment. Dona never made any mention that she cared about his emotional well-being. Well not in such direct words. He would make a jab tthat she was getting soft about him but addressing their relationship or vulnerabilities was not their style.

“You haven’t seen me at my worst.” Arguing and contradicting each other was much more their style.

“Uhhh the panic attacks. The multiple panic attacks. The time Shuriki found out you stopped her mercenaries from quashing a rebellion. The time when we failed to-” Dona began to list.

“Okay, fine,” Esteban sighed, conceding her point.

“I wasn’t agreeing to letting you check out Zelia,” Esteban corrected before Dona could start doing her ridiculous victory shimmy dance.

“Too bad. I already set it up. I’m meeting her for lunch,” Dona smirked, snapping her fan open with a flutter.

“What!” Esteban knocked his chair over in his suddenness and fell to the floor. Dona didn’t even have the decency to hide her laughter, “I knew you were going to be stubborn so I set it up anyway.”

“But, you, her what are you going to say?” Esteban babbled frantically, already envisioning all the rude questions and embarassing stories coming out of the former Magister’s indiscreet, gossipy mouth.

“Don’t look so horrified. I want you to be together. It’s only going to be half an hour. Just enough time to find out what I want to know. And tell her some things she should know about you.” Dona opened the door to exit Esteban’s office.

“But. . . but. .”

“You know, good things. All good things in the best of light,” Dona winked.

He was so fucked.

Which is why, hours later, he was waiting outside of Dona Paloma’s emporium as Zelia Mendoza walked up from the palace.

“Esteban what are you doing here?” Zelia asked in surprise.

“Don’t listen to anything she says!” Esteban blurted, “You know how she loves to embarrass me and cause drama. So-so don’t take any of her questions seriously. And the stories are lies!”

Zelia looked at Esteban’s flushed face for a moment and said slowly as to not agitate him further, “But if she likes embarrassing you, wouldn’t the stories be based on truth?”

“Yes, but they’d be so exaggerated that they’re lies. You don’t really have to have lunch with her. She’s not important. My family already loves you. I love you.”

Zelia took Esteban’s hands in her own, smiling a bit at Esteban’s increasing hysteria. She found it amusing the more she spent time with him. “Esteban, it’s just a short lunch. Nothing she can say or do will alter how much I love you. It’ll be fine.”

Esteban inhaled deeply, some of the anxiety he felt drifting, “I just don’t want you to be. .” he searched for the word, “Offended. She wants to check you, see if you “deserve” me. But I don’t think that. I feel lucky to have you.” Zelia smiled fondly at her boyfriend. So eager to make her feel good and safe with him. So different from the distant and pompous chancellor she knew him as back when Shuriki was in charge and they had to work in secret to protect valuable artifacts from falling into her hands.

“I feel lucky to have you,” Zelia kissed him, “Now I’m going to go. This lunch will be fine. We’ve fought malvagos and deceitful queens and other awful people. I think I can handle a little lunch interrogation by your friend.”

“Can’t say she’ll remain my friend,” Esteban grumbled as Zelia walked inside.

“Come in, come in!” Dona Paloma grandiosly swept Zelia past the rows of merchandise into her office where a tea tray was set up on her desk.

Zelia took a seat on a plush wing-backed chair as Dona took hers at her desk, the sun shining brightly from the window behind Dona’s silhouette, causing the archeologist to squint.

“Sorry, we’re doing this so informally in my office but I have a meeting coming up. Maybe next time we can eat at a cafe. Perhaps La Vida Dulce. Has Esteban’s abuela shown you there?”

Well that was quick.

“Yes, yes, she has. Esteban and I sometimes bake chocolate there with the rest of the family,” Zelia replied, pouring herself a cup of chamomile.

“Hmmm, that’s good. And how are Esteban’s cousins, do they like you? I hear how tough it is when the family doesn’t approve of you.” Dona raised a single questioning eyebrow, her eyes intently looking at her as if searching her face for a sign of weakness.

Zelia bit the inside of her cheek at the laughably unsubtle questioning and managed a polite sip. No wonder the two clashed so much, they were too alike in their dramatics.

“I-I think they approve of me. They’re so sweet. So energetic and full of life which is a bit of an understatement with Elena. But I understand why Esteban’s so close.”

Dona nodded, “Good answer.”

Zelia choked down a reply of how many points does she need to pass the test but instead took another sip and a bite of the tapas. Thank dios, there was tea. It was the only she was going to be able to remain looking serious through this.

“And how about your extended family? Have they’ve visited since you and Esteban announced your relationship? What do you do together with Esteban?”

So so unsubtle.

“My parents invited him to one of their lectures and dinners. Well sort of a potluck, everyone brought a dish and my mother loves to share off her famous pear and pomegranate shrub. They really liked Esteban. My father “interrogated” him about our future and all that.”

Zelia answered about to continue on how Esteban ventured to try to learn some more about her parents’ research and talk about their theses when Dona interrupted.

“And Esteban had your mother’s famous pear and pomegranate shrub?”

“No, no, no. He’s allergic to pomegranates.” Zelia shook her head, she was about to say that instead Esteban had some of the kebabs she made even though she had accidentally burnt the edges. Cooking was not her speciality but he was so sweet, eating it whole without complaint of its crispiness.

“Ah, so you know about his allergies. Very good, he’s opening to you. You know how he likes to act like he’s invincible.” Dona paused and then looked at her intently as if realizing Zelia might not have known this privy information, “You do know that right?”

Zelia snorted but manahed to cough instead of letting the laugh slip out, “I think anyone who has ever met Esteban knows that.”

Dona smiled genuinely for the first time since the beginning of this lunch, “He’s very. .”

“Layered.” Zelia supplied.

“I was going to say foolish at times to make up for his incompetencies, but layered is a much nicer way to put it. Good thing you’re the one dating him and not me,” Dona laughed.

Zelia nodded emphatically, from what she’d seen of their fights and the stories of Esteban, she was pretty sure they’d kill each other before the year was up.

“Even though he’s a complicated an, Esteban is such a good catch. Handsome, somewhat mature, has a wonderful family, the title, the riches. . “

“Yes, but that’s not what really attracted me to him when I first met him,” Zelia admitted wistfully and with a bit of surprise at herself for falling for an obvious test question. It had come out so naturally/

Because it was true.

The intense look in Dona’s eyes was back again as she indiscreetly leaned closer, “What did?”

Zelia couldn’t help the unconscious smile that spread across her face as she wracked her brain for the exact words she was looking for.

“I’I’ve been on my own most of my life. My romantic life was a desert to say the least. But Esteban. . . even though we butted heads and avoided each other at first, I’ve come to know his nobleness, his passion. He cares about people. He sees nuances in life and. . he knows what it’s like to have your life consumed by work, to feel your job defines you and you can’t be much more. Yet you want to be so much more. He encourages me to do what I want outside of work. I love that. I love how he makes me feel like life can be fun and exciting and hard and we can survive it with each other. . I just, there’s so many things. It’s his character. I love him.”

“And he truly loves you too, Dona said softly, “You fit well. You know each other well.”

A sly smie swept across her face as she leaned over conspiratorially, “I bet you know about Margarita.”

“His mother, yes?" Zelia edged slowly, starting to suspect that the embarrassing stories that Esteban warned her about were going to be revealed.

“And you know how much he loves her and misses her. Well one night, after a few too many brandies, Esteban decided on the perfect way to honor her.”

20 minutes later, Zelia left the store with a wave and almost walked right into Esteban who was pacing nervously outside. “How was it? What did she say? I love you more than anything.”

“I told you, it was fine. She approves of me. We’re going shopping next week.”

Esteban looked at her with a face of abject horror, “Ar-Are you friends now?”

Zelia was almost tempted to say yes just to see his reaction but decided not push it, “No, I don’t know if we have enough in common to be best friends or anything. But we’re going to hang out. She’s going to get me discounts at the arboretum.”

Esteban’s face visibly relaxed, “That’s it. She didn’t tell you anything? No stories?”

“Well. . .”

Esteban groaned, slumping against the store’s door.

“I didn’t think they were that embarrassing. I thought it was sweet you wanted to honor your mom with a tattoo. It was the artist’s fault for thinking it was the drink and not the name.”

“Ughh why?”

#esteban flores #a friendly interrogation #my fanfic #my fanfiction #doña paloma #professor mendoza #elena of avalor #estebanxmendoza

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girlstripto-55-cancri-e · 2 years

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Two Months #1

Tw: talk of epilepsy, Relationship with soon-to-be-married woman, pet trade, bulldogs?

My first story!

“You bought a human being, you do know that right? Its basically slavery.” Davion paced around his kitchen oblivious to the bulldog whining for food under the table. After a very confusing phone call from the local pet trade office, WRU, Davion had spent hours tracking down exactly why he was now registered on the WRU website and eventually traced it back to his sister. He was now pulling an explanation from a distracted and nonchalant Avery, as if she hadn’t spent hundreds of dollars on personal caretaker for Davion.

“They’re more like live-in servants, and it’s totally voluntary! Kinda like those people who help grandparents remember to take their pills and whatever.”

“So now I’m an old man who can’t handle himself.” Davion was preparing to argue that Avery was much closer older then himself when she displayed worry for Davion, a rare occurrence.

“Well, now that Aria’s moved out there’s nobody else in the house to help if you have another seizure.”

The mere mention of Aria’s name was enough to make Davion’s heart race. He absent mindedly traced his fingers across the mint-green walls they had painted together. He could still smell the ghost of her perfume every time he found something she had left behind throughout the house, mostly in Davion’s room. He pulled himself together just in time to reply.

“Have you met Liam, He’s insufferable. She’ll be crawling back by next week.”

“Dave, they're getting married. I think she‘ll be staying for a while.”

“What?”

Davion stopped in his tracks. Aria had said she was moving out because her mom wanted her to live closer. Besides, he had always thought she and Liam were temporary, that she was only staying because he constantly bought her jewelry and clothes. Clothes and jewelry that she had sensually removed in front of Davion many times. He never would have continued their secretive arrangement had he known that Liam was more than a side-fling. In hindsight, he should have seen this coming through the amount of money Liam spent on her, but whenever Davion brought it up Aria would flippantly deny any sense of commitment between them.

Stuck in his thoughts, Davion barely noticed that Avery had continued talking.

“He proposed weeks ago, didn’t she tell you?”

“What? Yeah, yeah she did. Sorry, I just forgot for a second.”

“It’s fine, anyway, could we get back to the matter at hand? You know, the pet you hate so much?”

“I don’t hate the little slaves, I hate the company and the idea and everybody who supports it. So at the moment, I really hate you.”

“Okay I get it, anyway it’s too late. I’ve ordered one, he’s coming in the mail tomorrow and WRU’s refund policy is that you have to keep the refurbs for two months before you can return them.”

“What does ‘refurb’ even mean in this context?”

“Look, I care about you enough to not want you to randomly die at 3:00 am in your sad little house because your brain got electrocuted or whatever happens when somebody has a seizure, but I don’t care about you enough to spend two thousand dollars. So I bought the second hand pets. They’re the ones that got sent back by their first owner. There’s a whole collection of them on the website. Only costs, like, three hundred dollars.”

Davion could vaguely hear an angry German accent on his sister's side of the phone, and took the advantage of her pause to hurriedly grab his dog's bowl with a metallic clatter, and pull open a plastic container filled to the brim with disgustingly moist dog food. The strong meaty aroma caught the attention of a large bulldog now pummeling towards her breakfast.

“Down Patty!” Davion narrowly avoided stepping on her paws, but managed to clumsily place the bowl in front of Patty, who passionately ate her expensive kibble, saliva somehow managing to get on the ceiling.

After fondly watching his adorably repellent dog, Davion gave his attention back to his sister ending her long argument in fluent German.

“I have to go soon, so I’m gonna make this quick—“

“Make what quick?” Davion worriedly questioned.

“You know how mom magically always knows everything I'm doing all of the time, even when I haven’t talked to her in six months?” Davion grunted his agreement to their mothers constant (and usually incorrect) knowledge of Avery’s life.

“Well somehow she found out that I bought you a pet, got absolutely wasted but still managed to remember her credit card number, found the WRU website, accidentally ordered another pet, and put it under your name and address. Just thought I’d—“

“There’s another one!” Davion shrieked into the phone, the stress painfully obvious in his voice.

“Yep just thought I’d let you know this one’s coming on Thursday and it’s another refurb okay bye.” Avery rapidly hung up the phone before Davion’s objections gave her ear damage.

Oblivious to this Davion continued to vent his frustrations to the phone until he threw it, along with his body, onto a couch. He was, without doubt, going to return both of the pets the moment two months were up, seizures or not. Avery was overreacting anyway, the only reason he came to this town was because his doctor recommended he get out of the city and somewhere quieter, that a less stressful lifestyle would help with his epilepsy. She had been right, in a way. The calm, quaint town and increased dose of medication had reduced his seizures to once or twice a month, and he was fairly content with his life. At least, until he met Aria.

When searching for a roommate she had passed the tests with flying colors. Her showers were short, she always paid the rent on time, and she showed some affection for Patty, which was rare considering Patty’s intimidating physique, and occasional ‘aggression.’ He and Aria had got along like a house on fire, though their passionate relationship needed to be kept secret because of Liam, her high school sweetheart. Davion had sunken deep into the ocean that was Aria. Only when his seizures increased to three or four times a month did he consider she and the stress of having to hide his adoration of her was the reason. He tried to break off their arrangement, but his attempt to return back to safe shore was interrupted by one long look in her deep blue eyes, pulling him back under her murky waters. Just because she’s moved in with Liam doesn’t mean Davion is any less smitten. Although, at the moment, what he missed most was her cut of the rent.

Especially because, according to Avery, he was to own two people by next week. And keep them for two months. Despite what he told her, Davion had never had much of an opinion on the pet trade. He and the rest of his generation has been born and raised with it, though he never took to it as quickly as Avery. Something about owning a human being gave him shivers, but he had certainly considered its benefits throughout his lonely school years. When he was diagnosed with generalized epilepsy his doctor had recommended buying a pet with a discount for his medical condition. Still, every time he made his way to the WRU website the sheer eeriness of the pet’s glazed over eyes and utterly submissive poses had been enough to scare Davion away.

Now though, he had no choice but to keep the two people that will soon belong to him, and that he’ll have to pay for them, and feed them, and Davion is certainly not ready for that. But, there’s no use moping around. Avery said the first one’s coming tomorrow, which means Davion doesn’t have much time to prepare. He needed to buy groceries, a bed, clothes, everything needed to properly care for a person. It hurt to admit that Davion was somewhat excited about this. He had always wondered what exactly went on in a place like WRU. Despite their many sponsorships and positive reviews and overall popularity, Davion’s felt in his bones that something was deeply wrong with that place. Now was his chance to finally find out the reality of it. But his journalistic instinct could come later, for now he just wanted to make sure Patty behaved herself when the pets came.

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

That’s the first chapter! if you want to be added to a tag list just ask

#Two Months #Whump writing #New story #Bee writes sometimes #Tw light seizure talk

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indeedaesies · 1 year

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4/4/23

Cultures in any working industries is stupid & ridiculous.

Everyone rushes & competes who can carry the boss’s balls the highest. Boss takes advantage of his position and literally behaves like the biggest asshole on this planet.

I just got FUCKED by the worst boss I’ve ever worked for and his work bitch, aka The Manager. They’re quite well known in the company as Clown 1 & Clown 2. All for an MC that I had received from a certified doctor as I was diagnosed with Influenza B, a contagious disease and somehow almost everyone in my timeline is getting it in Singapore now. New covid? I was still not well yet I wore my mask and dragged myself to work as I did not want my colleague to be on shift alone, KNOWING how that felt like. Only to be fucked as early as 0830 on a Sunday morning.

Could not wait till work ended? Oh that’s right - coming from “the boss” who works everyday where he comes in at 0800 and fuck any nurse who arrives later than him, has time for exercises in between consults, goes for a two hour break unbothered, goes of as early as 3 or sometimes earlier, complains and bitches when he has to do a procedure for the patients, find faults with nurses, beats the patients up, does surgery without sterilised gloves contaminating everything, sides with his entitled clients who lies to his nurses but comes up with bullshit stories for him and when nurses try to clarify and explain themselves, he takes it as talking back and will make your life hell.

Oh, & lets not forget the work bitch - comes in the latest among all the nurses, dont even bother helping anyone with any treatments in the morning, sits at the front every single shift and claim “as the manager I need eyes everywhere so being at the reception is where I need to be to know everything”, has no idea everyone at work hates her, make so much promises but delivers nothing, turn the nurses and doctors against one another, telling me “as the new manager you should not join in the bitching” but bitches the most, act like someone you can trust behind the boss’s back but immediately give a whole new charade in front of him, acts nothing like a leader, purely lazy, throws the phone to other nurses who are having their breaks when clearly she is supposed to be the one mending the phone as per a receptionist does, will literally talk shit non stop, extremely bias, bitched about a nurse and claiming she wants to terminate her just because this nurse’s mom is a kidney dialysis patient and needs to be sent for treatments, hits patients too, really not around as she is busy chain smoking her lungs out, also leaving work as soon as the boss goes home.

I swear to god, this company’s a J O K E. These two clowns tell clients their pets are safe with us. THEY ARENT, especially not with these two mother fuckers who really, I do not understand why the fuck are they in this industry. Patients are being left ALONE overnight but these two clowns will tell clients “there will always be a nurse to take care of your pet overnight”. NO, there IS NOT! Coming to 5 months, I have seen 4 patients DIE overnight as there was NO NURSE OR VET to take care of them. My heart breaks every single fucking day. I vowed never to work for a company that does this shit and fuck me I was just desperate and an idiot to think I could change this place for the better. These two mother fuckers are inhumane. I saw once the boss CHOKE a motherfucking corgi with the leash because he was fierce. I had it handled, I was already restraining the corgi and this piece of shit grabbed his leash and held him in the air. I had to yell to tell him to stop. That corgi was so afraid. I have seen this monster castrate a cat when the cat was not even down yet all because he was in a “hurry”. I cried and I prayed for the cat because I was useless, I was a nobody and that was all I could do, help the cat recover from such a traumatic experience.

I try my best every single day, to do what I do best and that is to save animal lives. Help them. Be their voice. Make them comfortable. Everything that happens in this clinic goes against everything I believed in.

On that unfateful morning, while getting yelled at by the two clowns, all that went through my head was what would happen if I were to snap? My boss told me “i paid you your full salary to do your job” and tell me clearly what the fuck have i been doing all these months then? Come in to work and open my fucking legs and sit on my ass all day? He told me “I cannot work with you anymore, you took more medical leave than I did through my career. Go find a company that will tolerate this and do not tell me I am unfair” That’s rich coming from someone who is so full of it? Like I wouldnt come to work every single day if I get to not work, pass my surgeries and procedures to my nurses and other vets, go for undisturbed breaks and leave before 4 everyday? And Ive been slogging for them and this was my very first long medical leave BECAUSE OF A VIRUS MIND YOU.

Then coming from the work bitch “You can kiss your manager post goodbye, there is no way I can handover this position to you, this is unacceptable” - well funny how this is coming from someone who is not even FIT to lead a team. Also, I have already mentally checked out the managerial post as I have bigger plans coming my way and that is to get the fuck out of this company ASAP.

All for a medical leave. They know it is illegal to terminate me as MOM will not allow it, so here they are making it unbearable for me.

Dont get me wrong, the other doctors and nurses are amazing. I am really close to them as I bothered to get to know them. I took the time to hear them. I try my best to be there for them or help them. I understood what they go through. No matter what happens outside work, I still come to work every time with a smile on my face and make it worthwhile for everyone. But these two pieces of shit - in it for other reasons. And I do not know, for the first time in my life, what to do next.

All I know is, they can try their very best to get me to quit on my own accord but too bad, I am a survivor. I have been through shits after shits to be who I am today. They want me gone, they’ll have to give me a payout. Funny how this bitch is telling me all these bullshits to put on a good show for him when she’s the one that confirmed me as a permanent staff on my second month and even increased my salary. All because of a medical leave that I was entitled too. Amazing right?

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bearsgrove · 3 years

Text

i never know how to answer a "favourite movie genre" question. i simply do not. wtach enough movies to be able to tell.. my favourite genre

#fern.txt #like i watch movies but they can be anything and i just watch them with one eye open and forget about them #so i always answer well fantasy ofc. i guess. because like. lotr is fantasy right?#and i just rewatch that #but then i fail to name any other fantasy movies i've seen and genuinely enjoyed #i'm not saying everything other than lotr is inherently bad but also that IS what i'm saying AND everything else is simply unmemorable to me #so then i consider what do i most enjoy anyway? other than movies. games ofc. so i still think fantasy is my favourite genre in General #but i could not name any movies #idk. i tend to watch period drama stuff sometimes. but i can’t say i Love everything i’ve seen?#honestly most of the time watching movies i’m unfamiliar with makes me weirdly uncomfortable #so then i end up Not watching new movies i haven't already seen #like i’m not supposed to be seeing them?? and i can’t find it in me to care about the plot/characters either #like i’ve only known you for an hour why should i care about your story #when i watch stuff i mostly just watch it for the general vibe/aesthetic/ambience now that i think about it #i like. cinnamontopography #i like music and nice scenery. camerawork #if those things are cozy to me i will watch the whole thing unaware it has a plot #hm #but apart from lotr i also rewatch pride and prejudice (2005). there is something more about the movie that i simply find comforting #and then i have seen rogue one 3 times which is not the same as rewatching it 20 times a year for comfort's sake #but still it means i loved the movie enough to see it more than once #i've only seen sw twice. it's........ a lot of movies. and i love them but not enough to rewatch them ya feel #but that's about it from me and my relationship with movies

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walkerwords · 2 years

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“For The Love of a Daughter” Final Part - Negan & Daughter!Reader

IMAGE CREDIT: Gene Page/AMC

PART 1 PART 2

Summary: When Negan decides to meet you on your terms, you have hope for a resolution that doesn't involve more bloodshed. Only not everything goes according to plan...

Word Count: 6832

Warning: Swearing, Violence, Blood, References to Suicide

Song I Wrote To: “Saturn” by Sleeping at Last

Note: Final part. I never thought I would finish this but I don't like to leave things open-ended.

------

You had left the others to have a private conversation much to Sasha’s dismay.

You knew why she distrusted you and you didn’t fault her for any of it. If you had been in her situation, trust also would have been something that was thinning by the hour.

Deciding on one of the watch posts, Jesus dismissed the guard and stayed nearby to dissuade anyone from approaching the ladder. He never once asked you what your plan was but you knew that was the diplomat in him.

“How’s the expecting mother?” your father’s voice crackled along the radio channel.

“She’s fine,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “Though, Abraham’s girlfriend is about to build her own atomic bomb to drop on your community.”

“Which one was that?” he asked and you tightened your grip on the radio.

“Are you done with the concerned bullshit?” you asked and he chuckled.

“I figured I could get away with more casual banter without you punching me in the face,” Negan said. “How is your hand by the way?” You looked down at your red and purple hand, courtesy of the right hook you have given him in the RV.

“A little bruised skin is not going to kill me,” you said. “Do you know what I’m doing right now?”

“Brewing in hatred?”

“I am looking at an entire community of people who would love to see your head on a pike.”

“Alexandria is that hardcore, huh?”

“I’m not at Alexandria,” you said, watching as the sun crested the trees. Hilltop began to glow with the promise of a new day. This time without one of their allies.

“You could be here,” Negan offered. “The Sanctuary is safe.”

“Sanctuary,” you repeated. “Where did you get that name? I never pegged you for religious type.”

“I never pegged you for someone capable of killing someone with your bare hands and yet, here we are.” Anger threatened to rise from your gut again but you pushed it down.

You had yelled enough. You were hurt, angry, and in pure disbelief of what you had witnessed in the clearing and then what he had said to you in the RV. You always knew that there would be the Before and the After when it came to the world. You were now in the After, but the Before was feeling lightyears in the past. You knew your father’s face, but other than that he felt like a stranger.

“I’ve killed people,” you began again after a few moments of silence. “I’ve killed a lot of people, but I don’t tend to let my emotions take over when I'm angry. My reaction earlier was not who I am anymore, do you understand?”

“Are you trying to tell me you’re some kind of sociopath now, kid? ‘Cause I hate to break it to you, Darlin’ but you don’t exactly give me Dahmer vibes.” Sighing, you ran a hand over your head.

“You killed someone very important to me,” you said. “He…he saved my life once. They all have.”

“They murdered my men in their sleep, (Y/N). Those men had girlfriends, they had families. Are you telling me I should have let it go? You think I should have just turned a blind fucking eye?”

“No,” you said and you meant it. Once you realized what had happened at the Satellite Station, you knew there would be eventual consequences. “I’m not saying that what you did was worse than what we did, but you enjoyed it.” Tears were pricking at your eyes as frustration rose inside you. “You smiled, laughed, and didn’t seem to care that a kid was watching. I haven’t known this group for long, but I’ve heard stories and from what I can tell, Rick and his people don’t tend to leave survivors.”

“There is a first time for everything, kid,” Negan said.

“They want to kill you, and I don’t…” you trailed off, trying to find the nerve to say it. The words were there, stuck in your throat.

“You don’t what?” he asked and you could hear a challenge in his voice. The same tone of voice he would use with your grandfather when he would overstep around your mother.

“I don’t disagree,” you finally said and this time, Negan was quiet.

“So there it is, huh? You want to kill me because I killed one man when your people killed twenty-four!” You didn’t flinch at the loud tone but it did gain attention from Jesus who looked up before looking away again. “Not to mention the men your little buddy with the crossbow killed with a fucking bazooka! You don’t see me dropping bombs on your little suburban paradise, now do you, (Y/N)?”

“I am not here to argue morals,” you snapped back. “I am trying to stop more bloodshed!”

“Too late, sweetheart,” Negan said. “The way I see it, you either come here or I come there and get you. Either way, I am not letting you stay with those fuckers another moment.”

“You don’t get to make demands when it comes to me. I may be your daughter but I am not some fucking child you can whistle at and I’ll come running home when the streetlights come on.”

“I’m not going to stop.”

“I know,” you said, wiping the tears that had finally fallen. “I have a counter offer.”

“This is not some kind of fucking debate, kid.”

“It’s either you listen to me or I disappear and if you want to see me again, you can get through my 'little buddy with the crossbow’.” Negan was quiet but you could practically see his reaction. Whenever he was mad, he got quiet and that’s when you knew he wasn’t just mad but he was going to make sure you damn well knew what he was thinking.

“What’s the offer?”

“It’s something we need to discuss face to face. Not at Alexandria or Hilltop or your damn Sanctuary. You and me, alone, on neutral ground. Only then will I tell you my terms and how we can fix this without going to war or more people dying.”

“And how do I know you’re not just trying to get me out in the open so one of those pissed-off girlfriends can take a shot at me?”

“Because they trust me and if I ask them to stand down for one meeting, they will. Rick knows that if our groups fight only more people will die. While he’s not opposed to killing, they’ve lost enough.”

“What does the little weasel of Hilltop think?”

“I don’t give two shits what happens to Gregory, but if you agree to see me, you cannot move in on Hilltop or anyone community you currently have under your boot.” He was silent again, but you had given him enough to think about.

The problem was, you didn’t have a counter offer. You had no idea how to fix this issue without giving yourself over to your father. Even if that was acceptable to Negan, you knew Daryl and Rick would never allow it. There would be a war regardless. Finally, Negan’s voice came back over the radio.

“Where?”

--------

“You’re walking into a trap,” Rosita said as you pulled your jacket on.

“He’s not going to hurt me,” you explained. It took a few days to figure everything out, but eventually, you settled on a place to meet your father. It was going to be in an old strip mall about halfway between the Sanctuary and Alexandria. While Rosita was sure that you were walking into a trap, the truth was, you were the one setting the snare.

Everyone wanted revenge for Abraham, but you were able to get them to calm down long enough for you to propose something else. You knew that Negan wasn’t going to stop even after his warning in the clearing. He wanted you with him and while you weren’t thrilled by the idea of being in his clutches, if your idea didn’t work, that would be something you would have to come to terms with.

“If I can negotiate some sort of deal where the Saviors leave Alexandria alone, then it will be worth it,” you explained.

“He said he wasn’t going to do anything unless we messed with them again,” Gabriel said.

“And you believe him?” Daryl asked, shaking his head.

“Look,” you continued, “even if he won’t take my offer, then he at least has to tell me to my face he’s going to try to kill more of my people. That alone may make him hesitate.”

“And if he grabs you and tries to haul your ass back to the Sanctuary?” Daryl countered.

“He won’t do anything that would put me in danger. That includes having his men attack me.”

“You haven’t been around him for years, kid,” Daryl continued. “He don’t exactly seem like father of the year right now and I don’t trust him.”

“Then trust me,” you said as you slid a gun into a holster under your jacket. “Because if you don’t, more people are going to die.” Daryl stared at you before turning away and huffing.

“We do trust you,” Rick said.

“Good, then do as I say and stay here. Negan gave me his word he’d be alone and that is the one thing I trust is that he doesn’t lie, at least not to me.”

“Keep the radio on,” Rosita said with a sigh. Taking it you hooked it onto your belt before swinging your leg over Daryl’s motorcycle. You had never learned to drive a car but Daryl had insisted on teaching you how to handle a bike.

“If you don’t hear from me by nightfall, something has gone wrong. I’ll call in when I get there. Do not do anything stupid,” you warned. Rick gave your shoulder a squeeze before you kick-started the bike and Aaron opened the gate. He gave you a nod as you passed and you knew all of this was bothering him the most. He had known you the longest and he had seen what Negan was capable of the night in the clearing.

Ignoring the lump in your throat, you drove from Alexandria and hoped Negan had indeed kept his word.

--------

You had made it to the mall before your father did.

The front of the bike was covered in Walker blood as you ran through a group on the way into the city. You plucked some brains off your shoulder in disgust before leaning against the storefront once again. Considering the tall fences and razor wire, you figured the mall had once been either a shelter or a small community before its inhabitants had moved on. Luckily, they had locked up before evacuating.

A lone Walker stumbled around the corner and immediately set its sights on you through the bars of the fence. You watched it, the creature growling and stumbling over debris in the parking lot. When they weren’t actively trying to kill you, you began to feel bad for them. This one especially looked as if it had been stuck out in the hot sun longer than others. Its skin was like paper and one arm was almost completely skeletal from where the flesh had been torn off.

You watched it for another moment before it turned away from you, its attention being drawn somewhere else. It was only a second later when its head exploded from a wire-wrapped baseball bat. Negan stepped into view as he flicked the brains from the bat.

“I think a knife would have worked just fine,” you said, your heart speeding up. Negan paused and then a smile spread across his face before he turned to look at you through the bars.

“Where’s the fun in that?” he said as he sat into one of his hips, a pure image of ease. “Always so punctual, huh kid?” he asked as he approached the gate. You beat him there, drawing your gun.

“Are you alone?” you asked, searching for the slimy face of Simon or the vacant sneer of Dwight. Jesus had spent time updating everyone on Negan’s right hands and you weren’t taking any chances.

“I told you I’d come alone, didn’t I?” he said and after scanning the area behind him, you finally unlatched the gate and let him in. “Thank you.” You rolled your eyes as he passed and closed up behind you again.

You both were silent and it was awkward. You didn’t quite know how to start. He was looking at you as if he had won a war that had started. However, there was also something else you recognized as love, something you hadn’t seen in some time. It was then that you remember that he wasn’t just your father, he was someone who protected you, someone who apparently still wanted to do that.

“Well, I’m here,” he said. “What is this counteroffer that you wish to bestow upon me, kiddo?”

“Come on,” you said and nodded towards the interior of the mall.

“Still don’t trust I don’t have men somewhere, huh?”

“I see you’re still capable of using your brain,” you shot back and he sighed.

“Always so snippy,” Negan said. “You get that from your mother, I’m afraid.”

“Don’t talk about her,” you said. “You don’t get to talk about her, you don’t get to talk about her to me or anyone else. She would be fucking ashamed of you.”

“Don’t do that,” he said as he grabbed you by the arm and spun you around to face him. His height made you look up at him, something you always hated. “She may have been your mother, but she was my wife. I loved her, too. I did everything I could to keep her safe. You are not the only one who lost her, (Y/N).”

“No, but I’m the only one who was there by her side. I was the one who had to reassure her that you were always going to come back. Me! Not you!” You shoved away from him.

“Is this why you fucking brought me out here? To tell me how much of a shit father I am? ‘Cause I know that already!” he bellowed. “Here I am trying to make up for the time we spent apart and you’re being…”

“I’m being what?” you challenged.

“Difficult,” he finished.

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s what you were going to say.”

“Kid, I swear to god…”

“What? What are you going to do?” you said. “I hate to break it to you, Dad, but I am not a child anymore. You cannot drag my ass home because I broke curfew. You talk about the new world order but did you ever stop to think that everything you have done since she died was wrong?”

“I killed one man!” he yelled. “One!”

“I don’t care about that!” you screamed and it was then you finally admitted the truth to yourself. Yes, you were hurt that Abraham was dead, but this was about more than one dead man. “I care that you became…this. I’ve killed people and yes, sometimes, I have even fucking liked it. My problem is that you fucking left and became some goddamn tyrant instead of trying to find me. I came here today to get my own answers! I’m not actually here to barter some fucking peace treaty! That’s just what I said so I could come alone because I know I cannot change your stubborn ass mind. This isn’t about Alexandria versus the Saviors, this is about me, Dad. I need answers!”

You were out of breath by the time you finished and Negan wasn’t looking at you. His attention was on the ground and his shoulders were up as if he was preparing for an attack. You braced yourself for the yelling, but then those same shoulders dropped and he finally looked at you and there were tears in his eyes. He went to say something before he shut his mouth again and shook his head.

“Now, you’re quiet?” you scoffed. “Unbelievable.”

“You…” he said before running a hand over his face. Worn out, you turned and walked away from him again. “(Y/N),” he called as he followed you but you just kept shaking your head.

“This was a mistake,” you said as you took a sharp right and pushed through a set of doors, and froze. “Shit.”

“What?” he asked when he reached you, and that’s when the noise finally reached both of your ears. “Shit,” he echoed.

“I guess they didn’t actually leave,” you said as you beheld a mass of Walkers milling around what might have been some sort of arcade or food establishment based on the decor. They were alerted to the two of you immediately. Spinning around, you were met with more Walkers who had come out of hiding, most likely from the yelling. Negan swung Lucille as you kicked out at Walker approaching you. Backing up, you knew you needed an escape plan but the old building had other ideas.

As the small horde pushed in, you stepped back onto the rotting floor and it gave out. Negan grabbed you just as it collapsed and you both went down, Walkers and debris following you down into the dark.

-------

There was a lot of noise all at once and it was disorienting.

Someone was talking to you but it sounded muffled. “Daryl?” you asked, blinking away the dust but he didn’t answer instead deeper and more familiar voice reached your ears.

“Not this time, kiddo,” they said as you were hauled to your feet. Blinking again, you focused on his face.

“Dad?” you asked, trying to control the fogginess.

“We gotta move,” he said and it began to come back to you.

“Shit,” you said, regaining movement in your legs and remembering where you were. Blood was splashed on your face and your father's as he swung his bat to clear a path. Your hands were shaking too much to pull your gun so you kept close to your father as he pushed his way through the Dead that were shambling behind and in front of you.

Most of it was a blur from when you landed on the lower level to when Negan was pulling you into a room near the back of the sublevel, slamming the door behind the both of you. “We need a back way out of here,” he said as you braced your hands on an old desk, trying to regain full awareness.

“Is this a basement?” you asked.

“Yeah, but not a total dead end, I can see light through there,” Negan said pointing through a hole in a somewhat boarded-up window that lead to another sublevel office.

“Okay,” you said, finally standing up straight and pulling your gun. You clicked the safety off and rolled out your shoulders.

“Not sure how much that is going to help against all of those damn Biters,” he said, listening to the Dead press themselves against the door he was barricaded with furniture.

“It’s better than nothing,” you said as your hand continued to shake. You began taking inventory of your body, making sure nothing was actually broken and working off pure adrenaline.

“We just got lucky,” he said as he paced a bit before pressing on the walls, hoping to find anything to get out of the room unscathed. You watched him as your mind raced through possible outcomes as well. “What are you thinking about, kid?” he asked and you didn’t miss the concern in his tone which only made you more irritated.

“I’m thinking about putting a bullet in your head before Sasha does,” you bit out as your thumb ran along the barrel of your gun. “Or worse, Carl.”

“You would kill me?” he asked, his feet finally stopping making s dent in the rotting carpet.

“To me, you’ve been dead for years. Now, there would just be a body to bury,” you said.

“You don’t mean that,” he said and you didn’t but you didn't have the strength to tell him at that moment. You were still angry. You also didn't have the time as your radio sputtered to life and a familiar drawl reached your ears. Pulling the walkie, you waited for Daryl to speak again.

“You there?”

“Remember that time you told me you fell down a hill and impaled yourself on your own bolt?” you asked as you rubbed your back where you had landed on what you thought was a broken table.

“What did he do?” Daryl asked and Negan scoffed.

“Unbelievable,” Negan said. “As if I would fucking hurt you.”

“Nothing, Daryl,” you said. “The floor must have had water damage or something. We fell through in the arcade and now we got maybe one way out.”

“Shit.”

“Not exactly my cup of tea, either,” you said.

“Are you hurt?”

“Bruised and a few scrapes, but nothing I’m not used to. I’ve had worse,” you said and Negan looked at you as if he could see scars or wounds from the past. You ignored him.

“I know,” Daryl said. “Alright, screw it. We’re coming to get you.”

“Daryl,” you warned.

“Nah, fuck this. I don’t care about a peace treaty. Nothin’s gets solved if ya become Walker food.”

“You’re not going to listen to me, are you?”

“No,” he said and you could hear muffled voices in the background. One of them sounded like Carl.

“Fine,” you said. “Look for the old gaming building with all the Dead and the smell of possible patricide.”

“Hey!” Negan said.

“On my way.”

You stowed the radio back in your jacket before clutching it closer to you. You couldn’t tell if you were shaking from adrenaline or the cold, but it was starting to get to you. Negan noticed as well as the next thing you knew he was shrugging out of his jacket and offering it to you. You hesitated, not wanting to touch anything of his.

“You’re shaking like a leaf, kid,” he said. With a sigh, you snatched the jacket and pulled it across your shoulders, careful not to breathe in any of its scents. Not that it would matter, you figured all you would smell would be blood and rot. “You and Daryl seem close,” Negan continued and you looked up at him.

“He’s a good man, a good friend,” you said.

“Is that all?” he asked and you grimaced.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” you asked, repulsed and Negan then realized what you thought he was inferring.

“God, no,” he backtracked. “I didn’t mean…fuck. No, I meant he seemed closer than a friend like family or a…father.”

“I told you they were my family,” you said.

“Right,” he said, placing his bat down and wiping the blood on his jeans.

“Daryl has lost enough people, I don’t plan to make him lose me, too,” you said.

“And you think that’s going to happen if you come with me?”

“I don’t think you’re going to kill me, if that is what you’re thinking,” you said.

“I wasn’t, but nice to know you don’t think I am capable of killing my only daughter.”

“You seem to be capable of a lot of things these days,” you muttered, moving to peer into the adjacent office that seemed to be boarded shut. The small hole only managed to give you some advantage.

“Are we going to talk about what you said up top? About you wanting answers?” he asked and you took a breath, ready to answer him when suddenly a hand, an arm, then a torse came bursting from the small hole in the glass and grabbed hold of your arm, its teeth aiming for your sleeve. In shock, you dropped your gun and tried to pull your arm away as the teeth snagged the leather.

Negan rushed at you, Lucille forgotten, as he ripped the Walker off of you, pressing it back with both of his hands. He shouted as you fell over from loss of contact. A second later, Negan had slammed the Walker’s head into the side of a shard of glass, killing the creature instantly.

“Fuck,” you panted. “How the fuck did we not hear that?”

“Throat was slit,” Negan said from behind you, his voice shaky from exertion. “Are you hurt?” he asked and you shook your head.

“Jacket stopped the teeth,” you said. “I’m fine.”

“That makes one of us,” Negan said quietly and you froze.

Gone was the confident tone of his voice. Gone was the anger and the stubbornness. Those five words sounded more like your father than anything else. Slowly, you turned to face him but all you saw was his back, his white t-shirt damp with sweat.

“Negan?” you asked, but he didn’t answer. “Dad?” you tried again and that was when he turned to you and something broke inside you. His right shoulder was slicked with blood and in the low light, you could see two half-moon shapes embedded in his skin. Your blood ran cold and the world tilted at the sight of the bite.

“I guess I spoke too soon about being lucky,” he said with an attempt at a laugh. “Rotten luck.” You were moving before you knew it, reaching for him. His hand found the collar of the jacket. “Always knew this thing was going to come in handy.”

“Oh my god,” you whispered, your hands fluttering over the bite, unsure what to do. “I-I need to find something. Do you have a knife, we have to move fast. We can…yes…we can…”

“Stop,” Negan said, grabbing your face with his left hand. “Stop.”

“No, the infection is spreading, we have to get it out.”

“It’s too high up and you know it. Cutting this off is not an option,” he said but you were shaking your head.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.” Negan tightened his grip on you as you kept your eyes on the bleeding bite. “This is how it happens, kiddo.”

“You’re giving up,” you said, still trying to comprehend.

“There’s nothing to do, sweetheart,” he said and that was when you looked up at him and saw his eyes. His sad eyes. “I always said I was going to go when I was damn good and ready. Next to my kid seems like the way to do it if any.”

“But—,” you said but he shook his head.

“Talk about karma, huh?” he said, leaning back against the wall. “Now nobody has to kill anyone. This is your mother’s doing, I just know it. From the grave that woman still has to have the last word,” he said, but the joke didn’t land. Negan slid down the wall as reality began to seep in. “I did all of it to survive, you know?” he said as you followed him to the floor.

“Don’t talk,” you said, your voice thick.

“No, you wanted answers. Good as time as any to give them,” he said. “I had to survive somehow. I felt like I owed it to you and I did. I had to keep going because that’s what you would have wanted.”

“I would have wanted you alive,” you said.

“You just said you wanted to put a bullet in my brain,” he said with a smirk.

“Kids say they want to kill their parents all the time,” you choked out. “It’s a rebellious thing.”

“I’m sure it is,” he said with a sigh. “You’re here though. You’re alive and you can keep living. For you and for your mother. God knows I didn’t exactly do anything to keep her memory alive. You were right to be pissed about the damn bat.”

“She would have hated it,” you said.

“I know,” he whispered.

“Does it hurt?” you asked, wondering if you should be adding pressure to it or not.

“Nah, just a pinch. Just like when we’d get those flu shots when you were little.”

“Those hurt,” you said.

“But you still got it done,” he said, reaching up to place a hand against your cheek. “Always brave, my girl.” You watched as he winced a couple of times and you began to count backward. Some people took a whole day to turn, others only hours depending on the kind of bite.

“I shouldn’t have brought you here. I should have gone to the Sanctuary,” you said.

“Don’t do that,” he said. “This is not your fault.”

“I caused this drama.”

“It’s in your DNA,” he said, attempting another joke. “You had to stick to your guns, kiddo. I admire that.”

“Dad, please,” you said.

“Nothing to do, Darlin’,” he said. “Hell, if there’s anyone out there immune, it’s definitely not me.” Negan was quiet for a moment before he began to laugh and you were worried hysteria was one of the symptoms. “Full circle though, huh?” he said.

“What?” you asked.

“The first time you killed a Walker, you were saving me. The last time I killed one, I was saving you. Ain’t we a pair?” he said. A tear rolled down your cheek.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. You were supposed to yell at him, maybe punch him again, get an explanation, and then move on. Maybe even offer to actually go with him if he left your family alone. Hell, even give Daryl time to think of a better plan, but not this.

Never this.

“The Sanctuary is going to need help,” he said, bringing you back into focus.

“Simon?” you asked but Negan was shaking his head.

“No, not Simon. He’s a fucking timebomb. He’s…fuck he’s unhinged. You have to promise to get rid of him or have Daryl do it. He can’t…he can’t be there without me to keep him in check.”

“He’s the one who killed the boy at Hilltop,” you blurted out. Negan sighed.

“I figured,” Negan said.

“I told them you would never kill a kid,” you whispered and his hand found yours. The growls of the dead seemed to get louder behind the door. Negan squeezed your hand tighter.

“You have to promise me not to let him get worse.”

“Okay, okay,” you said through another trickle of tears. He wiped them away with the back of his hand that was still joined with yours. Another thought occurred to you then. “They’ll think I killed you,” you whispered.

“No, they won’t,” he said firmly before lifting his right. “Give me the radio.” You handed it to him and he turned the dial a couple of times before lifting it to his mouth. “Frankie,” he said. After a moment, a woman’s voice came over the channel.

“What’s wrong?”

“Shit, girl, you sound concerned,” he said with a rasp and a smile.

“I get concerned when you sound like a normal person rather than a complete dick,” Frankie said. Negan was quiet then, his eyes flickering to yours. He had never mentioned a Frankie but Jesus had mentioned that your father had taken multiple wives. Or at least that was the rumor. Right now it was the last thing you were thinking about. You squeezed his hand again. “Negan?” Your father lifted the radio again.

“Time’s up, I’m afraid,” he said softly into the mic. “Son of a bitch world finally said fuck you right back at me.”

“Negan…” Frankie said, her voice low and quiet.

“It’s alright, Red. I got my girl with me,” he said as he looked at you. You weren’t hiding the tears this time. “She’s gonna take care of it. All of it. Her people…they’re good people.” You bowed your head over his hand, resting your chin on his knuckles.

“I can…” Frankie said, trying to come up with something to say, but Negan was shaking his head again.

“I should have listened to you earlier,” he said. “My fiery voice of reason.”

“I’m getting Dwight to you,” she said and Negan laughed.

“You do that, Red,” he said. “Just know that this wasn’t…this wasn’t anyone's fault.” Before she could respond, Negan changed the channel and dropped the radio before looking back at you. “No tears need to be shed for me, Darlin’,” he said.

“I’m not much of a crier these days,” you admitted.

“But?”

“But regardless of what happened…I found you. I just found you again and you go and do this.”

“Do what?”

“Damn heroics,” you whispered.

“Look at me,” he ordered and you did. “That is what fathers do for their kids. You may think I died years ago and that I’m not your dad anymore but you never stopped being my kid. Do you understand me, (Y/N)?” You nodded as a sob escaped your throat.

“I should call Daryl or Rick,” you said, reaching for the radio but his hand stopped your wrist.

“Not yet. Just be here with me for a bit, okay?” You nodded and then sat next to him, leaning against his other shoulder.

Everything you had thought about since you saw him in that clearing, laughing and postering suddenly felt years in the past rather than days.

All you could see now was his face when he picked you up from kindergarten or when you beat your mother at Monopoly for the fourth time in a row. You could hear his voice as he sang horrible versions of rock songs in the car to and from your mom’s chemo treatments. A memory of you trying on his glasses which were too big for your face was at the forefront of your trip down memory lane.

“I don’t hate you,” you whispered. “I never did.” You immediately felt him relax next to you and when you looked up at him, his eyes were closed and tears were streaming down his cheeks. “Dad?” His eyes met yours and he smiled softly.

“That’s all I needed to hear, babygirl,” he said and then wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer as the Dead continued to fight their way to you. Sitting in that office as your father stroked your hair, the promise of Death on the horizon, you started to not care if they did manage to break through and end you as well.

------

When asked later, you couldn’t remember how much time had passed when you heard the unmistakable sound of rapid-fire gunfire.

Your father was still next to you, sweat on his brow as the fever began to set in, but he was still alive. “Lucille,” he said and you looked at him as his eyes were on the bat. Sitting up, you grabbed the bat off the desk and handed it to him, but he pushed it back into your hands as more gunfire echoed through the air.”

“I can’t,” you said.

“You can,” he said, his voice scratchy as it became harder to swallow. “She protected me, she’ll protect you.” Seeing as he wasn’t taking no for an answer, you gripped the bat before letting it fall to your side on the ground. Voices that sounded familiar were getting closer and you knew it was only a matter of time before your people or his got to you.

“Time’s up, baby girl, you gotta go,” he said and you choked as he reached up to take hold of your face again.

“I can make you more comfortable or something,” you offered.

“It's okay, I know how I’m going out,” he said as he rubbed his thumb under your eye. Crying again, you leaned over him and pressed your forehead against his just as he did when you were sick as a child. He claimed it was to better feel your temperature. “I should have looked harder for you.”

You sobbed again.

“I should have stuck around to wait,” you whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, kid.” Leaning back, you took a moment to remember his face as best as you could as Daryl’s deep voice reached you, calling your name.

“I love you,” you whispered and he smiled.

“I love you, too, kiddo. Always have.” You collapsed against him, listening to his heartbeat that would no longer echo in his chest soon. His arms encircled you, holding you as tight as he could. “I love you so much and I’m so sorry. You’re going to be okay. I know this because you never needed me, you always knew what to do, how to survive.”

“I always needed you,” you said and he rested his head on the top of your head. “Tell mom I miss her,” you managed to choke out and that was when he let out a quick sob as well.

“I will, Darlin’, I will.”

It was then that the door burst open and Daryl, Michonne, Rick, Carl, and a few Saviors you didn’t know finally managed to get into the room. They all froze at the sight before them. You, draped in your father’s jacket as you lay on his chest, your face streaked with tears as Negan tried to stay awake. Negan looked up and found Daryl. “Take her,” he said directly to the archer as he began to push you off of him. “Take her.”

Daryl moved forward as you tried to hold onto your father but Daryl managed to pry you off of him and that was when everyone saw the bite. Breaking out of Daryl's hold, you cried as you grabbed the bat and leaned over Negan, and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

You wanted to say more but the words wouldn’t form. Instead, you pushed up your sleeve and placed your wrist in front of his face, showing him the Saturn charm you still had. He closed his eyes, sighing in relief.

Daryl was then keeping you on your feet as he pulled you from the room as your father asked for Laura and a blonde woman approached him. Daryl kept your back turned as he pushed you from the room, through the basement, and up the ladder that they had found. Carl and Michonne were behind you.

Exiting the arcade, more Saviors were out there, including Simon. Rosita, Jesus, and Aaron were there, too. Simon was staring at you and Lucille that was hanging from your hand. It was quiet for a few minutes as nobody moved before Simon finally lost it.

“What the fuck happened?” Simon demanded and Carl moved to your other side. Before he could ask again, Rick, Laura, and the other Saviors emerged. Simon looked to Laura and out of the corner of your eye, you saw her shake her head. Simon was fuming and he pointed a finger at you, his face reddening. “What did he say to you!” he demanded.

Looking around at the graveyard of corpses that had been shot down, nothing felt real. Blood was dripping from the weapon in your hand and tears were stinging your skin. Your family and your father’s soldiers were all staring at you and nothing at that moment felt as if it was going to be okay.

“I’m talking to you!” Simon yelled again and you heard Rick tell him to back off as Laura explained that Negan had been bitten. Simon was ranting and the others were looking confused as if they had no direction now.

They didn’t.

They were all Negan and he was gone.

Negan was gone.

Your father was gone.

You slowly looked up at Simon then and walked up to him, sliding your hand inside your coat and withdrawing your gun. He looked over at you as if you were nothing.

“Did you know that a year on Saturn is more than twenty-nine Earth years?” you asked, your voice void of emotion. Simon fully faced you then.

“What—” The bullet left your gun as fast as possible, entering his skull and exiting out the back. The shot echoed for miles as you lowered the pistol. Simon’s body dropped to the group, blood and gore seeping out from the back of his head. Guns were pointed at you but Laura was barking our orders.

“That was on Negan’s orders,” Laura explained.

You watched as Simon’s lifeless eyes stared up at the darkening sky. Daryl was next to you then, taking the gun from your shaking hand. He tried to take your hand but you shook your head, not wanting to be touched or comforted. Turning away from him, you approached a redhead that could only be one person. Handing Frankie the radio, you said, “Take care of the Sanctuary,” before turning and walking away.

You kept walking, not even bothering with the bike. When a final gunshot reached your ears, you hefted Lucille onto your shoulder and you turned your face to the sun as it set beyond the trees finally knowing the answer to what you’d always wondered.

You really were your father’s daughter and you would survive.

A/N: Sorry if this wasn't what you expected but this whole story was to look at what he would do for his daughter. Even if it meant an unhappy ending. This story is officially complete.

#the walking dead #twd #twd imagine series #twd imagines #negan #negan and daughter #walker words #walkerwords #negan imagine #negan & daughter!reader #apolloloki97 #reader insert

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