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midday0nightmares · 3 years

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14 - painless.

previous chapter like father, like son.

m.list.

tw - angst, kidnapping, mental health, blood, drugs, non-con.

*this is pure fiction and it is not intended to romanticize any of the situations mentioned bellow.

“I hate you.. “

He responds with an annoyed sigh..

you simmered through out the ride, your unwell condition exaggerating your emotions..

the car pulled in the underground parking lots, as soon as he unlocks the doors you throw the teddy bear at him hitting his face..

You bolt out the car starching your steps as wide as you can, He stalks behind you, thanks to his long legs he mange to reach the elevator door before you.. the lifeless stuffed toy in his hand..

He steps I first and you follow him.. you lean on the cold steal walls of the elevator, finding solace in it’s coolness against your hot body..

You stomp to the apartment door and cross your arms huffing while he opens the door.. he lets you walk in first

When you step in you attempt to slam the door in his face.. but your pity attempt fails as he catches the door before it closes.

You were testing your limits with him.. even though you know you should quite before he snaps, you continue

You kick the ridiculous crocks shoes he had given you earlier and storm off to his room, this time successfully slamming the door..

you took of the hoodie and threw it on the floor remaining in a thin t-shirt, a pitifully announcing your rebliouling ..

you flopped on his bed, your bottom lip quivering.. the anger turned into frustration that could be only be expressed with tears.. tears you don’t want to cry any more, tears you don’t want to show any more..

You expected him to follow you, to shout, to beat you.. anything, but he doesn’t.

After you’ve calmed down.. you reflect and you think you may have overreacted..

It’s 3:53 am .. it’s almost morning, you’ve given up on today.. you lay to sleep your frustration away..

Days have passed with you keeping your distance, and due to your unwell condition they have allowed you your space..

Days turns over in waste.. another tools over, a bitter taste stronger than ever before blooms in your mouth greats you as you open your eyes to the new day.. a heavy sadness resides inside of you, weighing your limbs down..

You feel empty, a shell of human.. mentally drained, you try to push through it..

You get up to an empty apartment.. the clock reads 11:48 am, they should be at work right now..

You open the fridge looking for something to appease you.. cereal and milk,

Jaemin’s blanket folded neatly over the couch next to it was the teddy bear he bought you.. still sitting in it’s place since that night..

You feel embarrassed for your childish actions.. your heart squeeze in guilt, dose he even sleep?

You finish your sweet breakfast and take your temperature.. it reads 37, you follow with the last round of your meds..

With n nothing to occupy it, your mind wonders to him.. to his warm embrace, it was all you could think about..

You overcome your pride and lay on the couch, in the same spot he sleeps on.. you wrap yourself with his blanket..

you lie to yourself and pretend you only did it because you are too lazy to walk back to his room..

You doze off once you were content with the warmth that surrounded you..

You jolt up and scrambling to put the blanket to the it’s original form before they get back and see you clinging to jaemin’s blanket..

You know you shouldn’t indulge yourself in him.. it’s not healthy, he’s deeply disturbed man, you shouldn’t.. but only this time.

Another week comes and goes with no events..

the calmness feels uneasy, a nagging feeling in you keeps you on guard..

One of those boring evenings, that you usually spend hiding in jaemin’s room reading whatever book is available, started taking a steep turn when you hear your name being called..

You pounder whether to answer it or ignore it..

You walk out the room turning the corner to the open space of the living room to see three men seated around the couch..

jaemin, jeno and an unfamiliar face that rings alarms in you.. the air smells like alcohol, three pair of dark eyes staring at you..

“is that her?” The stranger asks.. oilgning you

“come closer.. he’s not gonna bite you” jeno says in an upbeat tone.. his face is flushed red, side effects of being intoxicated..

“Your dad has a great taste ..” The stranger nudges jaemin who remains eerily quite..

“Come here..” Jeno pats the space next to him..

and against your better judgment you take one step closer, jeno grabs your wrist.. you dig in your heals and try to free your arm..you struggle against jeno’s strength before the stranger man speaks again ..

“oh jeno don’t hurt the pretty girl.. let het go” he humors jeno .. and they both laugh..

The stranger stand, his hight stretches above you..he’s not as built as jeno but you can tell you have already lost against him, he comes closer to you, sister look in his eyes..

“Hey .. my name is haechan, what’s yours sweetheart?”..

His right hand stretched to shake yours you look at it with disgust..

His hand retreat to fall to his side, his young poking the inner side of his cheek.. he turns to look at jaemin, who was quietly watching the interaction, cool and seemingly relaxed he sips on his whisky and nod giving an approval..

Feeling of dread crept up to your stomach.. your heart beats loud in your ears, your mind begins to cloud with fear..

Haechan turns to you, his hand shamlessly blaming his crotch.. your eyes wiedding in shock cracking jeno into a laughter.

He strides towards you like an animal cornering it’s prey,

“Stay away from me!” You bark at him with no intimidation,

Amused jeno warns “carful she scratches” ..

Your attempt to run was intercepted by jeno’s arms.. he catches you and lock you in his arms, you twist and struggle in his hold.. “let me go!”

but your weak fight makes them laugh even more than before ..

“You have been bad sera..” Jeno whispers in your ear..

“Jaemin .. jaemin please!” You plead to him..

but he remains non responsive to your pleads..

“Just go with sera.. it will be much easier “ ..

Jaemin finally spoke, his words shattering you.. Your eye well up with hot tears blurring your vision.. you still in disbelief, haechan turns to open his back bag, reaching for something, You desperately try to free yourself.. when haechan returns with a needle in his hand, you start kicking and screaming..

jeno grabs your left arm and straighten it and Hacehan .. they overpower you and hold you still while Hacehan inserts the needle in your arm emptying it’s contents into your blood stream.. jeno lets you go and the room goes silent except for heavy breathing..

jaemin’s cold eye watch as the horrific scene unfolds..

The hot substance burns through your veins.. your fast heartbeat stumbles as it slows down, your body slowly relaxes and the stress evaporates as warmth takes it’s place..

All of worries and pains start to evaporates.. the room spins around you, limps heaving, eyes loses it’s focus, you collapse but it’s euphoric..

You lay in pleasure you have never felt before.

Everything feels like a lucid dream.. being carried.. rough hands undressing you.. unfamiliar body against your.. “Shh don’t cry” wet mouth kissing your neck.. “Don’t worry.. I’ll be gentle..” whispered in your ear..

you keep falling in a bottomless hole, hours of your life goes missing, faint memories remains to remind you that you will always be the only victim of this war.

#nct yandere #nct mafia au #nct dream yandere #nct reactions #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct blurbs #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #nct agnst #nct angst

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mandowh0re · 3 years

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The One Where Everybody Finds Out

Summary: The team finds out about you and Loki.

A/N: So I literally took the entire episode of The One Where Everybody Finds Out from Friends and rewrote it for the Avengers. This may have been done before with either Loki or another character, and I've definitely seen it done with other Friends episodes. This is super long because I literally used every line of dialogue in every scene (except for Ross attempting to win the apartment) and then added or changed them enough to fit the characters. Some of this may be OOC but it was the best I could do with the situation they're all in. I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Implied smut

Word Count: 6274

Tony as Ross, Natasha as Rachel and Phoebe, Wanda as Rachel and Phoebe, Peter as Phoebe, Loki as Chandler, reader as Monica, and Thor as Joey.

Happy Reading!

“Oh, hey you guys, look! They’re installing the new training grounds outside!”

There’s collective sounds of acknowledgement from the team as they all get up from their spots, walking over to where Wanda stood in front of the floor to ceiling windows. You can feel Loki standing a bit too close to your back, but luckily everyone is too distracted to notice.

“I’d say from the looks of it, Tony went all out.” Natasha states, looking at all the new fancy equipment that was being unloaded and installed.

“Ironically, it was actually Steve who went all out. I just paid for it.”

“Awh, I’ll miss sweating my tits off in that tiny gym.” Natasha says. You snicker.

“That’s repulsive.” Loki rolls his eyes and returns to his place on the couch.

Tony glares at Nat, “Hey, it’s not my fault that the AC is always broken.”

“Aren’t you a mechanic?” Bucky asks.

“Not an HVAC mechanic. There’s a big difference, tough guy.”

“I am excited for this new space! I will be able to call upon the lightning in training!” Thor booms.

“Yes, and kill everyone on the field.” Loki replies nonchalantly, never looking up from his book.

Thor rolls his eyes and everyone returns to their former spots. You sit back in your spot next to Loki, sitting criss cross on the couch and discreetly touching your knee to high thigh.

It’s the small touches you sneak when you think nobody is looking, that make your heart skip just a beat faster.

***

“Oh my gods, I love this setup! It's got something for everyone!” Tony is absolutely giddy with excitement, walking around the newly installed equipment that had been set up outside, “Isn’t it perfect? I never realized how little we were working with before!”

“Well that is because we really only ever trained by fighting hand to hand.” Natasha replies, inspecting part of the obstacle course.

Tony nods, putting his hands in his pockets. He watches as Peter easily climbs a wall that’s part of the course Nat is looking at.

“It’s amazing!” Wanda chirps, “Steve really outdid himself this time.”

“Speaking of Steve, he was supposed to meet us out here like ten minutes ago. I’m gonna go find him.” Tony says, pulling his phone out to try and get a hold of his boyfriend.

As the billionaire disappears into the compound, Nat walks up to Wanda.

“I never thought I’d say this, but I can’t wait to sweat my tits off out here.” She says, the comment matching the one she made a few days ago.

Wanda lets out a quiet cackle, watching as Nat walks towards some machinery across the yard that caught her eye.

Wanda walks towards the teenager and looks around, excited to have so much more to practice and train her magic with. While Loki was more than glad to train with her using his own magic, she always had to hold back with almost everyone else.

She watches as Peter jumps and climbs his way through the course, looking like he’s having the time of his life, when she sees a separate movement out of the corner of her eye. She looks up to see you and Loki standing in a window, facing each other and talking.

“Oh look! There’s Y/N and Loki. Hey!” She waves up at them, but they don’t see her.

Peter’s attention is now caught and he stops in his tracks, looking up at the same window.

“Hey!” Peter calls, waving his own hands.

Suddenly, you and Loki are stripping each other of clothes, and Peter makes a squaking sound, covering his eyes.

“Ah! Oh!” Wanda shouts, her eyes blowing wide as she sees the events unfold. She uses her magic to pull Peter back to her so she can shield his innocent eyes, “Ahh!”

“What?” Nat asks, jogging back up to the pair.

Wanda points to the window that harbored the offending scene, with the hand that isn’t currently shielding Peter’s eyes.

“Y/N and Loki! Y/N and Loki!”

Nat looks up to see what the other two are flipping out about, only to see Loki shove you up against the window, completely bare.

“Oh my god!” Nat’s voice goes up an octave.

“Oh!”

“Oh my god!”

“Y/N and Loki!” Wanda screams.

“Oh my god!”

“My eyes! My eyes!” Peter screams. Wanda turns them both away from the building.

“Peter! Wanda!” Nat steps in front of them, hands out to try and calm them.

“Oh!” Wanda yells again, screwing here eyes shut.

“Okay! It’s okay! It’s okay!” Nat tries to placate them.

Peter removes Wanda’s hand from his face, “No! They’re doing it!” He yells, turning to point at you and Loki before Nat quickly grabs his arm and turns him back to her.

“I know! I know! I know!”

“You know?” Peter yells back.

“You know?” Wanda echoes him.

“Yes! I know, and Thor knows, but Tony doesn’t know so you have to stop screaming!”

Out of nowhere, Tony walks up to the small group, “Hey, what’s going on?”

The three of them scream in surprise, Peter throwing his hands in the air and jumping, screaming the loudest.

“Hi! Hi!”

Concern etches itself on Tony’s face, “What? What?” He steps towards his kid, arms reaching out and eyes scanning for any injuries.

“Hi! Nothing!” Peter yells, jumping around Tony to make him look away from the compound. He really didn’t need to see his daughter being fucked against a window by the one person on the team he trusts least, “Oh, gods, we’re just so excited about all the new equipment!” Peter claps his hands.

Tony smiles, now realizing it’s all just Peter having a hyperactive episode, “Yeah, actually it looks really good-” He says as he turns back to look at everything, but is cut off when Wanda yells and copies Peter’s movements to pull Tony’s gaze back away from the building.

“It looks amazing!” She screams, clapping and jumping up and down next to Peter.

Nat steps around Tony too so he doesn’t have a reason to turn back around.

“Get in here! Come on!” Peter yells, motioning for his father figure to join their happy dance.

Tony smiles before letting out a happy squeal and jumping into the little group dance, all of them jumping and screaming, aside from Natasha who was smirking and biting her lip to keep from laughing.

***

“You mean whenever Y/N and Loki were like, you know, doing laundry. Or going grocery shopping, or- Oh!” Wanda gasps, “All that time Y/N spent on the phone with Margo back in her hometown?”

They sit on Wanda’s bed, coffee in hand. Peter was leaned against her headboard playing Among Us on his phone, sound blocking headphones in. He was traumatized from what he saw earlier in the day, and he didn’t feel like seeing or talking to anyone, so the girls let him hang with them while they gossiped.

Nat nods, “Uh huh. Doing it, doing it, phone doing it.”

Wanda gasps again, “Oh, I can’t believe it! I mean I think it’s great!” There’s a pause, “For him. She might be able to do better.”

There’s a knock at the door before it opens slightly to reveal Thor. He leans against the doorframe and crosses his arms.

“Hello, what are you all up to?”

“Thor! Come here!” Nat says, jumping up and pulling him into the room, closing the door behind him.

Thor moves to sit on the desk chair, which looks like a doll chair compared to him, “What?”

“Wanda and Peter just found out about Loki and Y/N.”

Thor’s brows furrow and his eyes get wide, “You mean how they’re friends and nothing more?” His eyes narrow at the ex-assassin.

Nat rolls her eyes, “No, no Thor. They know. We were outside checking out the new training grounds and we saw them doing it through the window. Actually we saw them doing it up against the window.”

Wanda joins in, “Okay, so now they know you know,” She points to Thor, “And they don’t know that Nat knows?”

The god looks like he’s thinking hard for a moment before he speaks, “... Yes. But, you know what? It doesn’t matter who knows what. Now, enough of us know, that we could just tell them we know!” He says excitedly, “Then all the lying and secrets will finally be over!”

Nat nods, and Wanda gets a smirk on her face.

“Or, we could not tell them we know, and have a little fun of our own!” The witch giggles.

“Wait, well what do you mean?” Nat asks, turning back to face Wanda.

“Well every time that they say they’re like, doing laundry, we’ll just give them a bunch of laundry to do!”

Nat’s mouth forms an ‘O’ in understanding, “Ohh,” She claps silently, “I would enjoy that.”

Thor looks horrified, “Oh no no no. No wait wait. You know what would be even more fun? Telling them.”

Nat looks at him, but she’s already hyped up, “Nah, I wanna do Wanda’s thing.”

“I can’t take anymore-”

“Oh you don’t have to do anything. Just don’t tell them that we know!” Wanda snaps.

“No! I can’t take any more secrets!” Thor whines, running a hand down his face, “I’ve got your secrets, I’ve got their secrets, I’ve got secrets of my own, you know.”

“You don’t have any secrets.” Nat narrows her eyes.

“Oh yeah? You don’t know about Squish, my stuffed octopus.” Thor throes back before his eyes go wide.

It’s silent between all of them for a few seconds before Wanda clears her throat, “So, um,” She veers the conversation back to the situation at hand, turning back to Nat, “How are we gonna mess with them?”

Thor groans and leans back in the chair.

“Well, you could use your position, you know, as the best friend. And then I would use, you know, the strongest tool at my disposal. My sexuality.”

There’s another knock at the door.

“Come in!” Wanda calls.

The door opens to reveal Loki. Peter blushes furiously when he looks up to see the other god, and looks back to down, gluing his eyes on his phone.

“Hello, children.”

Everyone in the room replies with hellos.

“Y/N cannot find her journal. Have any of you heathens seen it?”

There’s a string of denials, nobody having seen the black leather journal you tend to carry around.

Nat turns to Wanda and winks, noticing Peter is now looking at her, and stands up to head towards Loki.

“Uh, hello?” Loki says, watching Nat approach him.

“Hey,” She says, finally stepping in front of him, “Oh wow, that jacket looks great on you.”

Loki quirks a brow and glances down at his clothing, then back to Nat, “Um, thanks?”

“Yeah, the material looks so soft,” She says as she strokes his arm, “Oh hello muscles,” She purrs, squeezing his bicep, “Have you been working out?”

Loki looks incredibly puzzled, “Yes, but need I remind you I am also a god.”

Suddenly Nat is giggling. Since when-

“Are you ill?”

She finishes giggling and looks in his eyes, “Well, if you really want to know,” She looks down at her hands, “Um- Oh I can’t tell you this.”

Loki shifts his weight onto the other foot, glancing at the other three behind her, then focusing back on her.

“While I do not enjoy discussing emotions, I can tolerate you more than most humans. If you would like to discuss something on your mind, I would not object.”

“Well actually, you’re the one person I can’t tell this to, and the one person I want to the most.”

“What the Norns is going on?” He asks, growing increasingly disturbed by this interaction.

“I think it’s just, you know, that I haven’t been with someone in so long and, you know how sometimes you’re looking for something and you just don’t even see that it’s right there in front of you dressed in a black suit…”

Loki glances down at himself again and his brows fly up for a split second as he looks back up to Nat.

“Oh no, have I said too much?” She coos, placing a hand on her chest, “Well, it’s just something to think about. I know I will.” She giggles again and walks over to where she set her mug down, bending at the waist and making an ‘oop’ sound, picking it up and then walks out of the room and past Loki, shooting him a wink.

Loki raises a brow at Thor, who has his face in his hands. Wanda is biting her lip to stop from bursting into a fit of laughter, and Peter’s cheeks are dusted pink with his eyes wide in shock.

***

“You are so cute. How did you get to be so cute?” You ask, looking down at Loki. He’s sprawled on his bed with his arm around you, tracing his fingers along your spine.

“I am not cute. I am a god. Handsome or pretty will do.”

You giggle in response, “Okay now you’re even cuter.” You tease, leaning down to kiss him.

“You know, that seems to be a popular opinion today, I must say.”

“What?”

“Well, the weirdest thing happened earlier today. I think… I believe Natasha was coming onto me.”

You chuckle, “What are you talking about?”

“I’m telling you, I think Natasha thinks I’m alluring.”

You look up at the wall and quirk a brow, then look back at him, “It’s not possible.”

“Ow?” Loki says, lifting his hands in a motion akin to ‘what the hel’.

You chuckle, “I’m sorry, it’s just… I mean Nat just thinks of you in a charming, sexless kind of way.”

“Oh well you know I… I can’t hear that enough.”

“I’m sorry, I just think you misunderstood her.”

Loki sits up, “No, I did not misunderstand. Humans are simple creatures-”

You narrow your eyes.

“Except for you, my darling,” He tries to placate, “But she was all over me. She touched my bicep for crying out loud.”

You grab his arm, and smirk, “This bicep?”

“Well it’s not flexed right now.”

You snort and fall back onto the bed in a fit of giggles.

***

You walk out of the elevator into the common room, headed to the kitchenette for some water.

“Hey, Y/N. What are you doing right now? You wanna come see a movie with us?” Nat asks, flipping through her magazine.

You stutter in your movements, hoping nobody noticed, and continue getting your water, “Uh, you know what, I was actually gonna do some laundry.”

You were out on a jog when Loki had texted you a long paragraph about what he wanted to do to you when you got back. Needless to say, you cut your jog short, turned around, and came straight back. When you turned back around to face your friends, you glanced at Loki, who was sitting on the loveseat with a book in hand. The fucker had the audacity to smirk.

Nat and Wanda look at each other, sharing a knowing look.

“Loki, you wanna do it with me?”

He closes his book and sets it down next to him, standing off of the couch, “Sure, I’ll do it with you.”

Nat smirks and stands, “Okay great! Hold on a sec.” She says before running out of the room. She returns a few minutes later with a large hamper full of laundry, “Ugh, here you go,” She sets it down behind the couch, “You don’t mind do you? That would really help me out a lot. Thanks!”

“Uh…” You look at her, not really sure how to respond.

“Oh! I have some too!” Wanda says.

You finally come out of your stupor, “Wait! Why am I doing everyone’s laundry? Do your own!”

Wanda makes a pouty face, “Because you love us and we asked nicely?”

You look at her incredulously before rolling your eyes, “Fine.”

Nat looks at her watch, “Oh! Alright, honey, we’d better go if we wanna catch that movie.”

They grab their jackets and bags, saying goodbye as they leave.

“Bye, Loki! I miss you already.” Nat says as she passes him, pinching his butt before entering the elevator with Wanda.

Once the doors slide shut, Loki looks at you, “Okay, did you see that?” He says hysterically, “With the inappropriate and the pinching?”

You nod, “Actually I did.”

“Okay so now do you believe that she’s attracted to me?”

You blink a few times, pieces of the situation coming together. Suddenly, your heart drops to your stomach.

“Oh my gods!” You look at the elevator and step around the counter towards the common room where Loki stood, “Oh my gods, she knows about us!”

“You are serious??”

“Natasha knows and she’s just trying to freak us out!” You throw your hands in the air, water bottle still clutched, “That’s the only explanation for it!”

Loki leans his head forward and raises his brows, “Okay but what about my pinchable butt and my bulging biceps?” He throws out an arm and runs his opposite hand over the lean limb before recognition settles over his face, “She knows!”

***

The door to Thor’s room flies open, startling the god, and both you and Loki enter.

“Thor.” Loki snaps, walking up to him, you hot on his tail. It looks like he had been in the middle of a nap.

“Yeah?” He says, throwing Squish behind a pillow.

You roll your eyes and Loki runs a hand down his face.

“Natasha knows about us.” Loki says, motioning between you and him.

Thor looks at you before furrowing his brows, “Well I didn’t tell them!”

“Them?” You hiss, “Who’s them?”

Thor looks guilty as he looks between the two of you, “Uhh, Natasha… And Thor.”

“Thor…” You warn.

“... And Wanda and Peter.”

You and Loki look at each other in annoyment.

Thor stands from his bed, “I would have told you, but they made me promise not to tell!”

“Odin’s beard!” Loki bites.

“I’m sorry!” Thor apologizes, and he does look sorry, “But hey! It’s over now, right? Cause you can tell them you know they know, and I can go back to knowing absolutely nothing!”

An idea pops into your mind, “Unless-”

“No, not ‘unless’! Look, this must end now!”

You ignore Thor’s small outburst, “Oh man, they think they are so slick messing with us! But see they don’t know that we know that they know. So…”

Thor looks confused as all hell by now, but realization dawns on Loki, “Ah, yes. The pranksters become the victims!”

Thor rolls his eyes, making an irritated noise, and flops back onto his bed.

***

Natasha, Wanda, and Peter are all hanging out in the common room playing Mario Kart when Natasha’s phone rings.

She pauses the game, putting the controller down and grabbing her phone, noticing the caller ID.

“It’s Loki!” She yelps, and suddenly she has both Peter’s and Wanda’s undivided attention.

They had filled Peter in on their plan, and he was more than happy to help prank you and Loki after what he had been inadvertently forced to see.

“Answer it!” Peter says, scooting closer.

“On speaker!” Wanda adds.

Natasha slides the green button and answers the call, putting it on speaker, “Hello, you.” She says in a sultry tone.

“Hello, Natasha. I have been thinking about you all day.” Loki’s voice fills the room.

Natasha almost chokes, and the other two snap their gaze to the phone, “Huh?”

“Well you know, that thing you said before. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t intrigued.”

“Really?” She asks, completely caught off guard.

“Yes, listen, why don’t you come to my room tonight and I’ll let you feel my muscles. Or maybe more.”

Natasha’s mouth falls open, as do the others’, and she grasps for some sort of answer.

“I’ll have to get back to you on that. Okay bye.” She hits end and her hands fly to her hair.

“Oh my god!” Wanda squeaks.

“He wants you to go over and feel his muscles and more!” Peter adds.

“Are you kidding?” Natasha says, trying to wrap the situation around her head, “I cannot believe he would to that to-” She cuts off mid sentence as a thought forms in her head. She turns slowly to face Thor, who had been munching on a slice of pizza while watching the Mario Kart tournament, “Thor…” Natasha says, “Do they know that we know?”

He looks at her with a guilty expression, and it’s quiet for a second too long before he answers, “No…”

“Thor…” This time his name is spoken in a warning tone.

He nods slowly, “They know you know.”

Natasha makes a noise of frustration, “I knew it! Oh, I cannot believe those two!”

“They thought that they could mess with us? They’re trying to mess with us?” Wanda guffaws, “They don’t know that we know they know we know.”

Thor groans behind them.

“And Thor you can’t say anything!” Peter turns and tells him.

He throws his hands in the air, “Couldn’t if I wanted to!”

***

Wanda, Nat, and Peter had ended their video game and moved to the couch to talk amongst themselves. You and Loki are standing in the doorway.

“Look at them, they’re panicked!” You whisper.

“Oh, yes. They’re definitely going to crack.” Loki whispers back.

You nod, “Oh yeah.”

Nat turns to look over her shoulder at the two of you and then looks back at her partners in crime.

“Alright, alright, if he wants a date, he’s gonna get a date.” She says, tucking back a strand of hair, “Alright, I’m gonna go.” She adjusts her jacket.

“Good luck!” Peter whispers.

Wanda is giving a subtle thumbs up, “Be sexy.”

Nat rolls her eyes, “Please.” She stands and walks towards Loki with a sexy smirk, swaying her hips back and forth.

He sees her coming and he pushes you away, standing to his full height and pocketing his hands.

You and Nat exchange a fleeting look before her focus is back on Loki.

“So, Loki, I’d love to come by tonight.”

The god’s smug smirk falls for a moment, before he forces it back, “Really?”

“Oh absolutely, should we say around seven?”

Loki tilts his head up slightly, trying to keep his composure, “Yes.”

Nat nods, “Good. I’m really looking forward to you and me having sexual intercourse.” She winks and walks back to her spot on the couch.

Loki gives you a desperate look and you hold your hands up, trying to calm him down.

***

The three troublemakers plus Thor are in Nat’s room. She’s wearing a black, form fitting dress that reaches her mid thigh, with knee high leather boots. Her red hair is straightened and the top layer of her hair is pulled back into a braid in the back of her head. Her makeup is mostly natural, with a subtle green tint on her lids. A modest amount of glitter dusted her cheekbones.

Wanda claps several times, “Showtime!”

“Okay, Peter, pick out a perfume. Over on my dresser. And Thor, can you go grab me a bottle of wine and some glasses?”

Thor huffs but does as he’s asked, leaving the room to fetch the items.

Peter walks up to her with a small bottle filled with purple liquid, “I like this one!”

Nat smiles at him, “One of my favorites,” She stretches her arms out and closes her eyes, “Hit me.”

Peter sprays a cloud of the scent in front of her, and she spins through it.

Thor returns a few minutes later with a bottle of sweet red and two crystal glasses.

~Meanwhile~

You straighten out Loki’s collar and smooth out his jacket.

“Alright, you’ll be great. You just make her think that you want to have sex with her, it’ll totally freak her out.” You spray breath freshener into his mouth and he recoils, not expecting the intrusive taste.

“Okay listen, how far am I going to have to go with her?”

“Relax! She’s gonna give in way before you do!”

“How do you know??” He asks, and he briefly asks himself how he even got caught up in this mess.

“Because you’re on my team, and my team always wins.”

He scrunches his face at you, “At this?” He makes a general motion with his hands.

You roll your eyes, “Just go get some!” You grab his face and give him a quick kiss before smacking his butt, “Go!”

You run to his bathroom and hide inside, listening to the events in the room unfold.

Peter, Wanda, and Natasha are all outside of Loki’s room.

Wanda hands the wine and glasses to Natasha, “Okay, Nat. Now we’re gonna try to listen from right here. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Oh wait!” Wanda reaches out and unzips the zipper on Nat’s chest, letting her breasts spill out a little more.

“Oh, good idea!” Peter says.

“Oh, hang on,” Wanda goes to try and pull it down a little more but Nat steps back.

“Don’t give away the farm!”

Wanda’s hands snap back to herself, and her and Peter hide against the wall as Nat knocks on the door.

It immediately opens, and Loki is there waiting.

“Natasha.”

“Loki.”

“Come on in.” He purrs.

“I was going to.” Nat giggles, and slides past him through the door. He follows her in and closes the door behind him. As soon as it shuts, Wanda and Peter shuffle to the door and press their ears to it.

Nat holds up the bottle in her hand, “I brought some wine. Would you like some?”

“Of course.”

Silence settles over the two as Nat sets the items on Loki’s heavy wooden dresser.

“So, here we are,” She says, pouring a glass of wine, “Nervous?”

“Me? Never. You?”

Her answer is immediate, “No. I want this to happen.” She hands him a glass.

“So do I.” He takes it.

They clink glasses and both down the alcohol like it’s water and they’d been stranded without any for days.

When they finish, they set the glasses down and Loki takes a step back, “I’m going to put on some music.”

He cuts on a song that Nat doesn’t believe she’s heard before. It’s definitely a classical song.

“Maybe I’ll dance for you.” Nat licks her lips, and starts to sway and move her body. She hopes the alcohol kicks in soon.

Loki raises a brow as she gets closer to him. He swallows harshly when she bumps her hips against him.

“You look ravishing.” He chokes out.

“Thanks,” She’s still moving herself to the music, “You know, when you say things like that, it makes me want to rip that… Suit right off.”

“Well, why don’t we move this to the bed.”

“Really?” Nat stops her dancing, the statement coming out of left field.

“Oh! Do you not want to?” Loki asks.

“No, no. I just, you know, first I want to take off all of my clothes and have you rub lotion on me.”

Loki can feel his heart sinking because he can tell that the woman isn’t going down without a fight. And for once, he doesn’t want a fight.

“Well, that would be nice.” He says instead, “I’ll go get the lotion.” He makes a bee line for his bathroom.

He opens the door and slams it behind him.

“This is getting completely out of hand. Alright? She wants me to put lotion on her!” He hisses quietly.

“She’s bluffing!” You hiss back.

Loki throws his hands up, exasperated, “Look, she’s not backing down. She did this!” He copies the hip bump that Nat had done to him earlier.

“He is not backing down. He went to get lotion.” Nat says.

She had gone and opened the door to talk to Wanda and Peter when Loki disappeared into the bathroom.

Wanda and Peter look at each other and Wanda wrings her hands.

Thor walks down the hallway and sees them gathered at the door.

“Oh man, aren’t you guys finished yet?” He whines, crossing his arms.

Wanda rolls her eyes, “Thor, look, just look at it this way: The sooner Natasha breaks Loki, the sooner this is all over and out in the open.”

Thor’s eyes light up, “Oh, I like that,” He looks at Nat and an idea comes to him, “Oh! Show your breasts. He’s afraid of looking at anyone else’s but Y/N’s.” He reaches out and pulls on the zipper in a quick motion, causing Natasha’s boobs to nearly fall out of the dress.

The girls gasp and Peter covers his eyes.

“Wow, you didn’t break it.” Nat says, inspecting the zipper and adjusting her breasts.

“Not my first time.” Thor says, cheekily.

“You go back out there,” You say, grabbing a bottle of lotion off the shelf, “And you seduce her ‘til she cracks!”

“Okay, give me a moment.” He takes the bottle from you and looks around the small space, “Did you reorganize in here?”

You shrug and push him out of the bathroom.

He stumbles slightly from the force and sees Nat closing the bedroom door.

“Oh, you’re leaving?”

She turns and looks at him, pushing her chest out, “Uh, not without you, lover.” She walks towards him, making sure to show her chest off as she sways her body, “So… These are my boobs.”

Loki glances down at them before locking his eyes on Nat’s.

“They’re very nice.”

They look at each other, exchanging forced sexual glances.

“Well, come here.” He tells her, “I’m very happy we will be having sex.”

Natasha chuckles nervously, “You should be. I’m very bendy.” She steps closer, “I’m gonna kiss you now.”

“Not if I kiss you first.”

She takes a last step forward and grabs one of his hips. He touches one of hers, then switches hands to touch the other. His heart is beating in his throat.

Natasha reaches out and grabs his other hip, jerking him forward. He tries to place a hand on her breast but can’t make himself go through with it, so he settles for her shoulder, and Nat makes a choked sound.

“Well I suppose there’s nothing left for us to do but kiss.”

Nat nods, “Here it comes. Our first kiss.”

Loki quickly glances at the door that you’re hiding behind before looking back to Nat. They’re faces get closer and closer, both desperately hoping that the other will break before their lips connect.

But neither does.

It’s awkward and barely a kiss, but after about two seconds, Loki rips himself away and pushes Nat away from him.

“Alright alright alright. Okay, you win! You win!” He yells, hands up in surrender.

“Hah!”

“I cannot have sex with you.”

“And why not?” Nat pushes.

“Because I’m in love with Y/N.” He admits, running a hand through his hair.

Nat’s heart stops and she can barely string words together, “You’re- You’re what?”

The bathroom door opens and you step out, at the same time the bedroom door swings open to reveal Wanda, Peter, and Thor.

“I love her. That’s right! I love her. I love her!” He repeats himself, pointing to you.

You feel butterflies grow in your belly and warmth blooms in your chest. You don’t care that you just lost this little game. Loki just proclaimed his love for you to a whole group of people. That’s not something he likes; letting others know his feelings.

You walk over to him, sporting a smile so wide that your cheeks hurt. He takes a step towards you and places his hands on your waist, looking into your eyes.

“I love you, Y/N.”

You let out a wet chuckle, “I love you too, Loki.”

He dips down and captures your lips in a searing kiss, pulling your body flush to his.

“I just… I thought you guys were doing it. I didn’t know you were in love!” Nat exclaims.

You turn and smile at your friend, hugging your boyfriend close. Loki chuckles and hugs you back.

“Awh, guys.” Peter says, a large smile on his face as well.

Loki smiles at the boy then looks to Nat, “And hats off to Natasha. Quite the competitor.” He reaches a hand out and the two shake hands, “And may I say your breasts are still out.”

“God.” She mumbles and quickly zips the dress back up.

“All right!” Thor booms, his face filled with joy, “So that’s it! It’s over! Everybody knows!”

“Yeah, well actually, not everybody,” You reply, “And we’d appreciate it if nobody told dad.”

Thor’s face falls and Peter grabs his arm to try and placate him.

***

Tony is watching Peter mess around on the obstacle course.

Peter lands at the end with a backflip and turns to make sure Tony is watching.

The older man holds a thumbs up, “You’re doing great, buddy!”

Movement catches his eye and he looks up to the window of your room. It takes his brain one too many seconds to realize what he’s seeing because he doesn’t want to believe it.

“No… No!” He yells, standing and taking a few steps forward.

Peter turns to look at what Tony is flipping out over and his blood runs cold, “Shit.” He whispers.

“Get off of my daughter!” Tony screams before he takes off towards the entrance to the compound and Peter takes off after him.

Tony runs down the hallway screaming.

“Loki! Loki!” He reaches your room and tries to open it, but it’s locked. He bangs on it several times, “Loki! I saw what you were doing through the window! I saw what you were doing to my daughter, now get out here!”

You and Loki jump up and quickly fix yourselves.

“Well, listen, we had a good run. What was it? Four? Five months? I mean, that’s more than most humans have in a lifetime, so goodbye, take care, goodbye then.” Loki finishes his ramblings with a chaste kiss to your lips before walking to your balcony.

You quickly catch his wrist, “What are you doing?”

“Oh I’m going on the lam.”

You roll your eyes and pull him back towards you, “Come on, Loki, come on. I can handle my dad.”

You drag him with you and open the door to reveal Tony, who is as red as Thor’s cape.

“Hey dad, what’s up?”

He looks at you and then Loki, and storms into the room towards him.

Loki takes several steps back and you run to place yourself between them.

“Dad!” You place your hands on his chest.

“What the hell are you doing!” He yells.

Suddenly almost the entire team is running up to your bedroom door where Peter was already waiting.

“Hey, what’s-what’s going on?” Natasha interjects.

“Well I think… I think… Stark knows about Y/N and I.”

“Brother,” Thor makes a throat cut motion, “He is right there.”

Loki rolls his eyes.

“You are an semi-immortal god that wiped out half of Manhattan and causes trouble everywhere he goes, and this is my daughter. Loki and my daughter, I-I cannot believe this!”

“Look Stark, we are not just fooling around. I love her. Alright? I’m in love with her.”

Tony takes a few breaths and moves his gaze to you.

You step forward and grab his hand, “I’m sorry that you had to find out this way… I’m sorry but it’s true, I love him too.” You reach your other arm back to pull Loki into your side.

He looks at you with unsure eyes, then looks up at Loki and back to you. Then out of nowhere, his demeanor completely changes.

“Loki and my daughter! I cannot believe this!” He says with a more happy tone, bringing them both into a hug, surprise etching Loki’s face. He pulls away and looks at everyone in the doorway, “You guys probably wanna get some hugs in too, huh? Big news!” He says the last part with jazz hands.

Everyone on the team who wasn’t aware files in for hugs and congrats, but the other four stay in the doorway.

Peter smiles, “Awh, no we’re okay, we’ve actually known for a while.”

The smile on Tony’s face vanishes.

“What? What? You guys knew?” He stalks closer and Peter jumps behind Natasha, “You all knew and you didn’t tell me?” His voice became raised again.

“W-Well, Tony, we were worried about you, okay? We didn’t know how you were gonna react.” Wanda explains.

Tony looks between the four of them before the weary smile appears again.

“You were worried about me?” He chuckles, “You didn’t know how I was gonna react?” He pulls all of them into a tight hug.

When he lets them go Thor speaks up, “Okay. What do you say we all, uh, clear out of here and let these two lovebirds get back down to business.”

Tony’s smile vanishes yet again and he turns to glare at the god.

“Hey, hey, hey. I’m just talking here. He is the one sleeping with your daughter.” He points to Loki.

Peter facepalms and Nat drags Thor away, Peter following suit. Peter collects Tony and nods to you and Loki. Everyone files back out of the room and the door closes once more.

After everyone left, there were a few seconds of silence before the two of you burst into hysterical fits of laughter.

***

Permanent Taglist: @a-place-to-blog-marvel-stuff @yes-iamironman-blog @paradoxicalblueberry @the-regal-warrior @transparentparadiseglitterzombie @marvelgem @propertyofmarvel @avngrsinitiative @my-leg-is-not-a-chew-toy @lyricalstella @just-the-daydreamer @hufflely-puffly

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jimlingss · 3 years

Note

O SHOOT REQUESTS !!! ill take my chances and ask for a zombie apocalypse or pirate au ft. hoseok 👀 i couldnt choose between the two aus and im hoseok biased but i can honestly see any member so do as who u see fit. i will not let my pairing/au choice limit the authors talent 😤 and i dont doubt anything from you will satisfy. and pshhh,, where are my manners. please and thank u! love u 💛

↳ Crocodile Tears

1.8k || 98% Fluff, 2% Angst || Jung Hoseok || Pirate!AU

“Look what I nabbed, Cap’n.”

Gunner Taehyung’s grinning with all teeth, a golden chain wrapped around his fingers that’s so shiny it’s blinding with the sunlight. Hoseok’s intrigued and flips the locket in his hand. It’s heavy with a wild rose engraved on the front and once he pops it open, there’s a faded painted portrait of a young woman inside.

“It’s a booty, eh? Caught if off milady right over ‘ere.”

Hoseok hums and narrows his eyes on the wrench tied in rope sitting amongst the captives. Your face is dirtied, hair drawn in a bun at your crown but with many strands fallen around your face. Your gown rat’s coloured, dull gray. You are entirely unremarkable. Like any other peasant.

But it’s not often captives have something of value on them.

“Bring her to my cabin.”

“Aye, aye.”

The ship sets sail again. Taehyung keeps the captives quiet with the threat of throwing them overboard while the cabin boy Jungkook swabs the poop deck. Helmsman Seokjin mans the helm with navigator Namjoon by his side. The ship’s heading to dock at Port Galigeo to get a pretty penny for all the loot and treasures they’ve gotten after four months’ voyage.

Once steep waters are reached and everything’s been taken care of, Hoseok resumes to his cabin. There, he finds you, sitting in the corner on the floorboards with tears in your eyes. You gasp as he enters and shuts the door.

“Please! Spare me!” you beg sorrowfully. “Let me go!”

“Why should I?” Hoseok tosses his hat onto his table and his coat to his rickety chair. You look so frightful, even when he’s still in his drawers and shirt, held together by the red sash.

He fiddles with the many golden rings across his fingers, a habit since he began his adventures, and he comes over to you. Hoseok’s boots are heavy against the floorboards, and he crouches down to meet your trembling eyes.

“I-I am just a peasant,” you sob. “I have nothing to give to you! My father is merely a farmer.”

“Oh? Then what be this here?” Hoseok dangles the priceless locket in front of you as the corner of his lip curls. It catches the light from the tiny window of the cabin and the gold gleams against your eyes, practically sparkling like a jewel.

Your eyes flicker from it to him, hiccuping and frame quivering like a damn leaf. “It’s my grandmother’s. She left it for me before she passed.”

Hoseok hums a low note. “An’ if this be your grandmother’s, how she pay for such a treasure? Unless she been a thief.”

Your downcast head shakes. “I don’t know, I don’t know.”

He pops the locket open before taking a good look at it. “This here be a portrait of you, isn’t it? You look different. Lavish. Like a noble’s daughter.”

“T-That isn’t me.”

“Then who?”

“I don’t know.”

There’s something rather pretty in the way tears drip down your cheeks, so soft and gentle like jewels of their own right. But Hoseok has seen many women, children and men cry. It’s nothing astonishing.

Hoseok smirks, a rush of air leaving his nose. “I’ve been cap’n of this ship for nearly a decade, dearest. I’ve held treasures you could only dream of, been in battles that nearly lost my leg, sailed ‘cross the seven seas with me mates. I know when a wrench lies.”

His eyes are narrowed in on yours. And Hoseok comes closer, hand lifting to grab a hold of your chin. But before he can, before he can blink or breathe — suddenly, you brandish a piece of glass against his exposed neck.

The ropes around you clatter to the ground. Hoseok feels the sharp edge of the glass digging into his skin, a moment away from nicking him and drawing blood. But more notably, your eyes are aflame. Your expression is dark and you’re scowling at him.

Gone is the fragile little girl weeping for mercy.

“Don’t come closer,” you warn in a low voice without a single tremble.

He leans back, but his gaze stays on yours. “You reckon you could kill me?”

“I wouldn’t hesitate.”

Hoseok’s mouth curls, grin stretching into his cheek. His interest is piqued. He knew there was more to you beneath the surface, and he’s happy you haven’t disappointed.

His hand latches onto your wrist to force your hand away. It's a battle of strength. One that he ultimately wins as the piece of glass goes clattering on the ground out of your reach. He sees it’s part of a broken bottle. But Hoseok’s much too put off guard and when your leg kicks out at him, he’s smacked square in the chin.

He grips it as he lands on his ass, sharply exhaling. But then he bursts into chuckles.

“You got some mean spirit in you, sweetheart.”

Unfortunately for you, Hoseok has far too much experience in combat and capture. Even if you try to kick, strike and even bite him, it’s not too difficult to get you tied into ropes again. Except this time, he makes sure to use his special knots and get you so wound up, no sharp edge could free you.

“Let me go, bastard!”

“Settle down. You’re only gettin’ yourself riled.” Hoseok crouches in front of you again and comes to wipe away the stray tear on your cheek with the pad of his thumb. You angrily scowl at him, chest rising and falling. Crying won’t get you far now, not when he knows they’re just crocodile tears. “Don’t get yourself worried about someone hurtin’ you. Everyone on this ship swears by our code, me included.”

You scoff. “As if I’d trust a pirate.”

Hoseok smirks. “If I wanted to hurt you, I would’ve done so already. It isn’t pleasin’ for me to force a girl like yourself either. Not when I have plenty o’ gold to play with a wrench at the dock. Now I suggest you behave or my Quartermaster’ll throw you overboard.”

“Then do it!” you shout at him with your entire body, only to flop over to the floorboards.

He grips the knob of the door and looks over his shoulder. “No. You’re too much of a treasure, sweetheart.”

The sun is falling over the horizon when Namjoon approaches. “Everything go well with the girl?”

Hoseok hums and turns with a glint in his eye. “Tell all hands to keep her separate.”

Port Galigeo is reached within two days time. The waters are calm without storms and the stars are clear at night. The sailing is smooth and so the docks are reached faster than ever before.

The men aboard are eager to sell the loot, to spend a few days ashore, spend nights at the brothel and replenish the rum. As follows, their steps are quick and they move the crates of jewels and tools to the harbour. Seokjin also takes care of the captives, leading them in a straight line off the gangplank to be sold.

“Cap’n! What ‘bout the beauty ‘ere.” Taehyung points to you.

Hoseok meets your eyes and you’re seething, glaring back at him. The corner of his mouth curls in amusement.

“Leave her. Tell the lad to watch over her till we return.” He points to Jungkook and Taehyung nods with an ‘aye, aye’.

Most of his crewmen take care of business, getting as much gold for the loot as possible. But Hoseok fiddles with your pendant in hand and heads to a jeweler. Said jeweler is an old man who quivers upon seeing him, Namjoon and Seokjin in his shop. He hides behind his table and cries, “Please! Spare me! Take what you must!”

Hoseok sighs. He doesn’t know why everyone thinks so badly of him. Maybe because he’s a pirate and he and his crew have pillaged countless. That’s fair, he supposes.

“Stop yer quivering,” Seokjin spews out, leaning against his table. “We need you to look at somethin’. Hurry before I steal your silver!”

Hoseok lifts your golden locket, letting it dangle from his hand.

The old man eventually slinks out when he realizes they won’t do anything, and he takes out his magnifying glass. He motions for him to bring it forward and Hoseok does. The old man hums, studying the locket before flipping it over in his hand. His thumb brushes against the wild rose engraving.

“Where did you get this from?” he asks.

“Don’t matter,” Namjoon says curtly.

Hoseok studies the man’s face and leans closer. “What is it?”

“It is a very valuable locket. I happen to recognize this symbol as well. It is the emblem of the Crochetta Kingdom.” He pops the locket open to the portrait of the young woman and looks up at Hoseok, clearing his throat. “I believe this locket belongs to the youngest princess of that kingdom. The runaway.”

Hoseok’s brow cocks.

The three of them leave in a hurry.

Seokjin’s eyes are glazed as his mouth starts to spew how Lady Luck is truly on their side, how they’ll be able to get their hands on a high ransom or sell you for countless riches. Namjoon is perplexed at how a princess like you managed to get here when Crochetta was countries away.

But Hoseok remains quiet. He doesn’t plan to trade you. He doesn’t ask questions.

He is entirely and wholly intrigued. Like never before.

“Blimey, the ship!” There’s a shout at the docks and Hoseok is torn from his thoughts. Taehyung has his hands in the air, cursing aloud. And Hoseok’s eyes trail from him to his ship that’s off the dock and disappearing over the horizon. “It’s sailing away!”

Seokjin is aghast. “How?!”

“Who’s still on?!” Hoseok shouts, looking around the dock to all his shocked men and their mouths drawn open big enough to catch flies.

“That girl,” Namjoon says, looking at the captain.

Hoseok tied you tightly, he made sure of it. Unless you freed yourself again. But it’s not possible that you lifted the anchor.

No. You must’ve cut the rope.

“Where’s Jungkook?”

At the same time, there’s a high-pitched shriek in the distance. All of the men are held to their spots on the docks as they watch a tiny figure in the horizon get pushed off the ship’s deck and then plopped into the waters.

There’s a loud splash.

You stole the ship.

Hoseok is quiet when his men turn to him. They don’t dare utter a single word, far too afraid their captain is boiling with anger. But what frightens them far more is when Hoseok suddenly bursts out into chortling laughter.

He laughs and grins as he watches his ship sail into the distance.

You were truly a treasure hard to find. He knew it when he saw you.

And now, he’ll just have to catch you again.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #hoseok fanfic #hoseok fluff #hoseok reader insert #hoseok scenario #bts reader insert #bts drabble #bangtans-peaceful-piegon #Jimlings #let's goooo Hoseok as a hot sexy pirateee!!!

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shirtlessfelix · 3 years

Note

i've been working on a killer idea where their main power is the ability to animate suits of armor in piles across the map that act as ai like the zombies but can be possessed and controlled like twins. but i got a cute idea from it, so i was hoping i could rq felix, jill, adam, and jake with a killer s/o with this power where one of the armors gives them a little gift mid trial? and when they tell their s/o they go 😳 bc they were thinking about them mid trial? ty if you do! - adam anon

:OOO I like this idea!! Hope you enjoy what I wrote <3 <3

Survivors Receiving Mid-Trial Gifts

~200 words each

Adam: The gift he receives is a book from his childhood, albeit covered in blight and dirt from the Entity. He's nearly moved to tears when he realizes, and a million questions run through his head, but he keeps himself calm so he can finish the trial and think more on it later. He brings it to his partner and asks how they did it, where they got the book, but they don't have any idea.

"I gave this to you? What do you mean?" they ask, and Adam explains that the suit of armor came to life like it did when they controlled it, and the book just appeared in its hands for him. "I thought of when you told me about it... it was so random, I guess... maybe She heard me."

Nevertheless, Adam is grateful and embraces his partner tightly to show his gratitude even though they're not sure they did anything. Still, it feels good that he's is happy about something while they're both deep down in this hellscape, and they're even happier to be a part of it somehow. Adam says he'll clean off the blight and the grime on the book and keep it somewhere no one will find it, so it's just for the two of them to share.

Felix: He's scared half to death when he hears the clanging of the broken down armor suddenly appear behind him, and he talks to his partner thinking that they're possessing it: "I know I should be used to it, honey, but—oh?" It gives him a pocket watch that looks like one his father owned; he doesn't know what to say, but he's confused when his partner doesn't respond. That's when he realizes his partner isn't in there.

Later, Felix gives them the dirty old charm and asks how they got it, but they don't know what he's talking about. "Didn't you give this to me?" he asks. "You did!" His partner explains that sometimes random bits of their conversations come to mind, and they wish they could just spend time with Felix instead of being pressured into killing him.

That still doesn't explain any part of it, though, and the two are left just as confused as they were at the start of their conversation. Felix decides that he'll keep the charm with him all the time, both as a reminder of his father and a keepsake from his partner. Maybe they'll find him again.

Jake: It doesn't startle him too much when his partner pops up behind him, and he's glad that they want to give him a visit in the middle of the trial. "Fancy seeing you here," he smiles, but the grin goes away when they hand him an old toolbox like the one he had at home in his cabin, filled with his old tools. "What? But how..." he starts, unable to find the energy to finish his question when he realizes that his partner has just slashed someone else to the ground. They aren't in the suit.

He thinks about using it, but decides he'll hide it somewhere he can grab it to leave since the tools are in horrible shape. After the trial, he shows his partner, and they get all hyper and freaked out since they were thinking about gifting Jake a toolbox soon, but it seems that their armor had a mind of its own and already did.

Jake and his partner spend a long time cleaning off the tools, revealing small details in them that he remembers clear as day. A chip in the hammer's head, or where he melted the handle of his screwdriver by accident. While the memories of his life weren't exactly grand, he's glad that he can share them.

Jill: She spent some time with her partner in the beginning of the trial, but eventually they went off to perform their duties for the Entity. She still never quite left their mind, and it showed when they hand her a broken, unloaded handgun much like her Beretta. It startles her that they had one in the first place, much less that they gave it to her instead. She asks them why, but there's no response. She decides to ask again later.

"That wasn't me," they tell her, "I don't know what happened." But she doesn't believe them, and she's only upset that she can't use it to kill that bastard bioweapon once and for all, and one or two of the other killers while she's at it. She becomes determined to fix it and to find something to use as ammunition, but her partner tells her that it's a bad idea to try. Maybe they're right.

Regardless, she tells her partner hours of stories that they'd never asked about but that they're drawn to anyway, and they also start to wish she could get rid of the Nemesis down here. Jill likes to imagine a world without him, and her partner likes to listen.

#sffic #anon #req #hc #dbd #dead by daylight #dbd fanfic #dead by daylight fanfiction #dbd adam #adam francis #dbd felix #felix richter #dbd jake #jake park #dbd jill #jill valentine #dbd headcanons #headcanon

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doctorthreephds · 3 years

Text

Synapses: Part 4

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

WC: 6.4k

TW: Death, sickness, blood, violence, typical Criminal Minds stuff, specifically from the episode “Amplification”

Summary: You find yourself falling deeper and deeper in love with Spencer as your relationship grows. But, the calm is just before the storm and your job puts you in more danger than you signed up for.

Masterlist

Taglist: @obsssedwithjustaboutanything @green-intervention @eevee0722

Spencer made it easy to fall in love. You had little knowledge of romantic relationships besides a couple of elementary and middle school “relationships” that were barely romantic, just a couple of kids attempting to find their way in the world. Your experience with relationships, in general, had been difficult. Your father was estranged growing up and your mother was loving but constantly busy with work and her duties as a diplomat. She made time for you, though, and in the end, you wish you had made more time for her.

Death is a fickle thing, it is the only thing that makes life worth living, and yet even as a forensic scientist, you wanted to figure out how to evade it. When your mother died, your relationship with death was complicated because you felt cheated. That she deserved so many more years of life and that you should have done more to help. You know that in your heart, you feel a deep passion for Spencer, that you want to get to know him and to cherish him as he should be cherished, but death still loomed overhead and it terrified you. So you hold Spencer at an arm’s length. While he had no problem hugging you and holding your hand occasionally, you made sure he remains cordial and platonic with you. Such a task was difficult, though.

Your feet ache as you walk over to the elevator, sniffling in an attempt to calm your runny nose. Spring had officially set in and so had your allergies; it seemed as if all the pollen in the world was coming for your sinuses. Pulling out a tissue to blow your nose, you barely register Spencer standing next to you.

“I’m going to see Ponyo in theaters tonight, it’s a limited run and they’re playing it in Japanese. You could come with me, I could even simultaneously translate it to you,” he states and you jump slightly in surprise, not having expected him to be there.

“Sounds like fun, but I desperately need Claritin and I wouldn’t want you to miss the screening,” your voice is nasal as you speak, the pressure in your head making it pound with every step you take once you exit the elevator.

“It’s no problem, we can both head home and I’ll just pick you up with my car,” he suggests, and you look over suspiciously.

“You hate driving.”

“But I’d drive for you,” you sigh as the two of you make it out of the building and start toward the metro. “I’d just really like to see it with you, I think you’d enjoy it.”

You huff as the breeze picks up slightly, hitting you with another face full of pollen. Looking over at Spencer, his eyes were bright and full of mischief. He holds onto the strap of his bag as the two of you walk down the stairs and you try your best to read his face. Only pure content and joy, oh how this man has ruined you.

“Fine. Only if you pay for dinner,” you mumble, blowing your nose into another tissue as the train approaches.

“Of course, it’s my turn anyway,” he states, a satisfied look on his face. The two of you often paid for each other when it came to food, remaining constantly indebted to each other. But this way, you always knew he would come back. Because he owed you.

Getting home was a relief, it truly serves as a place to escape and decompress. After being stuffy all day and having to work through several reports as you reviewed the evidence and possible threats, it had truly been a test of your patience. After taking Claritin and changing into something a little more suited to the weather, Spencer arrives right on time. The rest of the night goes off with a hitch and more often than not do you find yourself looking over at Spencer as his eyes take in every single little detail of the movie. True to his word, the two of you order cheap nachos and pizza from the movie theater and munch on it during the movie. He speaks translations to you in a low whisper, adding intonation and inflection to distinguish between the characters. Spencer never ceases to amaze you and while you love Ponyo, there’s just something so alluring about watching Spencer talk about things that interest him. At the end of the movie, he continues to process and talk about every little detail left to his whim.

“While Ponyo is essentially a movie about a child’s innocence and familial love, there is an underlying theme that comments on the pollution of our oceans, as seen in the character of Fujimoto who is afraid of humans and constantly criticizes them,” Spencer says as the two of you walk into the foyer.

“The ramen looked amazing, though. It makes me hungry for some real food,” you state as the smell of popcorn makes you crave even more food.

“Food in film, specifically films directed by Hayao Miyazaki, are a tool to show togetherness and family as well as human nature. The details of the food tell their own story in many of the other movies. We’ll have to check them out if they even come to the theater,” he continues and you smile, shaking your head.

“Or we can just watch them at my apartment. I’ll buy the whole box set and we’ll just have a whole binge,” you tell him as the two of you make it out onto the street, walking back to his car.

“That’s also good too,” he says as you bark out a laugh. “It’s a date.”

While such trivial words shouldn’t insight fear inside of you, it doesn’t stop you from spending the rest of the night thinking about it after Spencer drops you back home. It remains in your mind the next day when you go to work and find your way to the BAU during lunch, only to find that they were called away on a case. So, the rest of the week is spent thinking about the words “it’s a date.” Obviously, he meant a physical date, like the one on a calendar. But what if he wasn’t? He hadn’t been over to your apartment before and you had never gone to his. It was like a platonic line the two of you hadn’t crossed so that your relationship would stay strictly on the down-low. What did it mean that he wanted to come over to your apartment, then? On a so-called “date?” There wasn’t even an actual day you planned to have your movie marathon on, so technically it couldn’t even be considered a date. Just a plan.

That Friday, you were getting ready to go home and crash on the couch after ordering take out when Penelope texts you.

From Penelope (5:46 PM):

I’m gonna need some reinforcements up here, the team is just getting back.

To Penelope (5:46 PM):

Hard case?

From Penelope (5:47 PM):

Like you can’t even imagine.

Sighing, you get up out of your chair and head to the elevator, going a couple of floors up to the BAU. When you get out, Penelope stands there with a face of anticipation as she sees you walk out.

“Oh good, they’re almost here. Spencer’s not doing too hot,” she says and you frown, turning to face the elevator.

As if they were summoned, the second elevator opens up to reveal the team in several different states of fatigue and disappointment. Spencer stands in the back, hunched over slightly as he frowns and follows the rest of them out once the doors are fully open. You smile at your dad and pat him on the shoulder as he leans down.

“The gelato place downtown is still open,” he whispers and kisses your cheek before walking into the offices. You walk in front of Spencer and gently bump into him to break him from his stupor.

“Hey, what’s going on?” you ask and look up at him, seeing the furrow in his brow and the dark circles under his eyes that look even darker.

“Nothing, I have to work on my reports,” he mumbles and walks past into the offices.

“Why don’t we go get food and you can come back, just to help clear your mind,” you insist, following him as he collapses into his office chair, rubbing his temples to relieve a bit of the stress built up over the past couple days.

“I have too much to work on,” he brushes you off and turns to stare at all the papers stacked up on his desk.

“You can work on them this weekend,” you state and push the spinny chair so that he faces you. “I know something is wrong, we’ve known each other for several months and I can tell when something is bothering you. Now, I’m not going to ask, but I do know that you can complete reports faster than everyone here and that you can take them home. So, I declare today backwards day. Let’s go grab some ice cream.”

You smile your biggest smile in hopes of breaking him out of his spiral and the reference to Ponyo definitely helps. He smiles slightly, although it doesn’t reach his eyes, and shoves a couple of folders into his satchel before standing.

“Lead the way,” you smile at him and loop your arm around his in hopes of helping to keep him grounded. The two of you walk out of the BAU in silence, but you can feel a change in Spencer already. Hunting the worst types of people every single day as a job constantly gets to you, especially when it comes to this team who constantly look at the mind of unidentified subjects to catch them. With your father, he deals with it through good old compartmentalization and expensive alcohol. For Spencer, you would guess it’s not as easy. His mind was endlessly thinking and analyzing so any mistake made would be remembered and replayed. The best you can do is let him know that there’s a world around him other than everything going on in his head.

After getting on the metro, you engage in simple conversation, telling him about what you’ve had the luxury of working on and the most recent book you had been reading: The Awakening by Kate Chopin. When you see the stop for downtown, you pull him off the train and begin to walk toward your favorite family-owned gelato establishment.

“Where are we going?” he asks, looking around at the nightlife of D.C.

“It’s a surprise,” you wink and pull him toward a small shop full of freezers filled with gelato. His eyes light up at the sight of the gaudy decorations that are over the top depictions of Florence and Rome.

“Gelato?”

“It’s backwards day!” you remark and order a medium stracciatella.

“I’ll get a medium mint chip,” he asks and you reach out hand over your card before Spencer can get to the cashier.

When the both of you have your gelato in hand, you both slowly meander down the street as you devour into your delicious treat.

“Did you know that the word stracciatella comes from the Italian word ‘stracciare’ and is also the name of the famed soup that is popular in the Lazio region of central Italy? The same technique is applied to the ice cream but instead of chocolate and ice cream, it’s broth and an egg-based mixture. It’s a western variation of the Chinese egg drop soup,” he gets out before spooning some of the gelato into his mouth. You can only smile at him as you admire how beautiful he looks in the dim lighting, rambling on and effectively getting him away from the horrors of the world, even if for a moment. He continues to talk about soup and how often eastern traditions are westernized and taken over, but all you can do is stare at him and think about how head over heels you are for him.

Perhaps it is love. But your heart is stored in a box away from harm. Its defenses were weakening, though. Every word spoken by Spencer was like a small chisel working away at the precious marble box, artistic and masterful. You love him, yet in your mind, keeping it from him meant keeping him safe. Or, keeping yourself safe.

Quiet weeks are always appreciated at the FBI. Quiet weeks for you meant simple research and few reports, just enough to keep yourself busy. Quiet weeks for the BAU were just simple consultations and writing up all their fieldwork into manageable reports. But, before a tsunami, the ocean always rears its ugly face.

You knew something was wrong when your director called you before dawn. A shrill noise jerked you from your sleep and you pull your phone to your ear even before checking the caller.

“Agent Montgomery,” you reply groggily, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you check your digital clock.

“There’s a suspected attack, we’re sending an agent to pick you up. The FBI is under strict media blackout rules so do not inform anyone,” Director Chase states. “There’s Cipro for you on arrival.”

Your heart beats out of your chest at the mention of anthrax. You had just started college when the Amerithrax attacks happened, it had been one of the reasons you wanted to become a toxicologist. Never in your life did you ever expect to face an actual anthrax attack head-on.

Getting ready is a blur, you pull on suitable clothes and meet the other agent when they arrive. During the drive, you are given a very quick debrief. Last night, twenty-five people checked into emergency rooms with black lesions and lung failure after they had all been at the same park after 2 p.m. The strain of anthrax used was weaponized and reduced to a respiral ideal that attacks deep in the lungs, odorless and invisible. At the moment, there are eleven dead with the number quickly rising. All remaining patients were moved to a special wing in Walter Reed Hospital with Dr. Linda Kimura from the CDC and her team overseeing the treatment of all victims. You memorize this information and how you would apply your skills, finding any evidence and analyzing it. The thought of working with the BAU is both exciting and terrifying. Your father would be at risk, and so would Spencer. The only peace of mind is the fact that you would be working with them so any harm that comes to them would go through you first.

Once at the Bureau, you swallow the Cipro dry and take the elevator up to the BAU where several military scientists have gathered and move around the busy offices. Your director approaches you as you enter and glance around at all the chaos.

“Dr. Kimura’s already in the conference room with Agent Jareau and Agent Hotchner. You’ll be accompanying them to any possible active sites to try and gather a sample as well as oversee the response,” he states and you nod, climbing up the stairs and trying not to throw up the pills you just swallowed. Seeing JJ and Hotch helps to ground you a little but your heart still beats quickly.

“Dr. Kimura, it’s nice to meet you,” you smile weakly and shake her hand.

“You too, I just wish it wasn’t under these circumstances,” she replies and you nod, turning to look at the file full of evidence. It was unlike anything you had ever seen, less than twenty-four hours and already fourteen people were dead.

The rest of the team shuffles in and you meet Spencer’s gaze, seeing the worry build up in his eyes like tiny storms. You were sure that your face shared the same fear. As they are debriefed, you find yourself looking through at the lesions and pictures shared, trying not to grimace at the sight. College had its fair share of gross photos, but those people were either dead or safe. Time was not your friend.

“Reid, go with Dr. Kimura and Dr. Montgomery to the hospital, interview the victims,” you tune in at your name and look up at Hotch as he delivers assignments. “There’s Cipro. Everybody needs to take it before we go.”

“We don’t know if it’s effective against this strain, but it’s something,” Dr. Kimura huffs out as she raises the tray for everyone to take.

“This is really happening?” Emily asks. That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it? Can such a weapon be real?

“We knew this could happen. We’ve done our homework. We’ve prepared for this. This is it,” Hotch speaks the words as if they are a mantra as if the FBI knows everything. And while he’s right, the FBI does not know everything about this strain of anthrax. The unknown kills people, you just hope you can get to it before it kills more civilians.

“Jin dan,” your father says. “May you live one hundred years.”

Your jaw clenches as you watch both your father and Spencer takes the pills. Your father is on the older side, you know that and he’s lived through a lot, but something like this would take him out in a matter of hours. And Spencer, he’s young and healthy, but this spore had killed fourteen people. What was another victim?

As you follow Dr. Kimura and Spencer out of the conference room, your mind is full of statistics and chemical concoctions that could help you. It moves quickly and swiftly, distracting you from the escalation of the current situation.

“Why didn’t you take the Cipro?” Spencer asks as you stand in the office.

“I took it when I arrived, I was here before you,” you respond monotonously, sighing as you turn and give him a reluctant smile. “Sorry, I’m just nervous. Never really been ‘in the field’ before.”

“You’ll be great,” he offers you a look of encouragement and squeezes your hand as you follow Dr. Kimura to the cars, waiting for Spencer as he grabs files from JJ.

The car ride is spent talking about treatments and other specific details. You focus on trying to break down the creation of the spores as well as possible antidotes to combat it. Because there are no know samples just yet, you work through from the other angle. How does one weaponize a regular bacteria? Well, increasing its ability to quickly become activated and multiply would do the trick. To fight against it, our white blood cells would need to work just as quickly to get rid of the foreign bacteria that attacks our immune system, therefore an antidote would be able to target this bacteria and destroy it at the same rate. Just as a vaccine would. Arriving at the hospital is a bit jarring, you walk with Dr. Kimura and Spencer up to the wing where you break off and look at blood and toxin reports to fully understand what parts of the body are being attacks as well as what kind of chemicals makes up this specific toxin.

“What’s causing her aphasia?” Spencer asks as they make their way back over to you. This piques your interest as you take notes on a separate piece of paper, jotting down everything you can think of to help understand.

“The poison is infecting the parietal lobe, impairing her speech. Some of the other patients displayed the same symptoms shortly before they died,” she states solemnly, and you sigh as you speak out.

“The only thing that can help them is if we find the antidote because unless we do a molecular analysis of the specific strain, we’re unable to understand how this works,” you grumble, the want to lash out angrily growing. “This can’t be his first attack, especially if he was a scientist. You run small trials before getting to human subjects.”

You continue to work with Spencer, sifting through ideas as Dr. Kimura makes calls and inquires about possible previous victims. It made sense in your little science brain, that one would not test on a bigger group before ensuring it was deadly with a smaller group--like vaccine or drug trials. As Dr. Kimura brings over a list of other patients, Spencer goes into another area to call the team as you cross-reference your notes with her.

“So far, all we know is that this is anthrax. Do you think I can use blood and tissue samples in your lab for analysis? Maybe I can refine the strain and get an antidote or perhaps see how quickly it multiplies,” you ask and she nods.

“Of course,” she calls over another nurse and asks for blood and tissue samples from an already deceased victim and asks for it to be delivered to your lab.

As Spencer steps out of the closet, you look over at him and try to memorize every part of him. The revolver that sticks out of his hip, the badge, the long unruly hair, his violet shirt, just everything that makes him Spencer. Your heart was racing with nerves and all you wanted to do was take him out of harm’s way.

“How are you feeling?” he inquires as you shake your head.

“I feel useless. I’m no medical doctor nor am I any closer to finding the antidote,” you mumble and look up at the ceiling to try and stave off the tears.

“You’re doing great. It’s a waiting game until we get more answers about the profile, you’re doing the best you can,” he reaches out and wraps an arm around you as you hug him, sighing as you deeply inhale his cologne.

“Yet my best can’t stop all these people from dying,” you look over at the young girl that Spencer was talking to, watching as every breath in her lungs feels like the last.

“You’re one person. And I know that when it gets down to it, you’ll be brilliant,” the two of you pull away slightly and you look up at him, your noses almost touching. You could kiss him right now if your lives weren’t being threatened, but the voice of Dr. Kimura breaks the two of you apart.

“How’s she doing?” Spencer asks as the three of you walk over to the window, Dr. Kimura pulling up her charts.

“She’s a fighter. She’s held on this long because she’s young and strong. But she’s started to bleed into her lungs,” Dr. Kimura states and you stare through the glass, wanting to will this young girl to live.

“One of four left,” you mumble and look over at Spencer.

“We’re running into another problem. When next of kin have questions, what do we tell them about cause of death?” you look back through the glass as you ponder another unanswerable question.

Once the samples are ready, you and Spencer go down to the hospital lab where you try to isolate the spore in each of the samples and look at them underneath the microscope as well as streak them on Petri dishes. Spencer helps with tools and supplies so you aren’t running around, but the most that the microscope tells you is that it is anthrax and the dishes won’t be ready for analysis any time soon because they need to incubate. Once done, you clean and sterilize everything before sitting down on one of the chairs and looking up at the fluorescent lights of the hospital.

“This is useless,” you mutter and shake your head.

“No, it’s not. They’re delivering the profile right now and then we’ll be able to find a suspect,” Spencer tells you as you look over at him, a small smile on your face.

“Are you always this optimistic, Dr. Statistics?” you ask as he chuckles.

“No, because I’m usually running and forming statistics, but you distract me enough from the looming threat of death,” your eyes widen as he speaks as you let out a short laugh before his phone begins to ring. The conversation is short, but you gather that you finally have a suspect worthy of bringing in.

“That was Morgan, we’re going to a suspect’s house. His name is Dr. Lawrence Nichols and he tried to lobby for money to fund his anthrax preparedness plan but failed because it wasn’t feasible,” he says as the two of you grab your things and make your way down to the bottom floor, Derek meeting you as the three of you take off toward his house. He fills you in on Dr. Nichols’ past, his adamancy about wanting all families to have protection against anthrax as well as his inevitable job termination. Your hands shake with nerves as you think about having to be around people, specifically people that could potentially pose a threat to your life. This wasn’t what you did, nor was it who you were. You were far out of your comfort zone, but at least you could be helpful instead of sitting around in a lab.

The three of you wait outside the small suburban house, waiting as the hazmat team goes through and ensures that there are no traces of anthrax that could threaten your life.

“This guy just had people over for a charity event last month,” Derek states and you look over at the house, it was painted a robin blue. You would never suspect a serial killer to live in such a normal house.

“We should probably take a look around anyway,” Spencer suggests as the three of you head toward the garage and behind the house.

You stayed quiet and observed from a scientific view, looking over at the rose bushes and reaching over to touch the delicate flower. Though even the most beautiful flowers have thorns and you wince as a sharp point pricks your finger. Following Spencer, you stick the finger in your mouth to get rid of the blood.

As you maneuver around the many plants, Derek’s phone rings and he puts Penelope on speaker as Spencer listens in. You, on the other hand, continue to look around for any evidence pointing toward him being the suspect. Perhaps a lab of some sorts. As you enter the smaller building behind the house, you instantly see the makings of a lab with the fumes hood and the surplus of beakers and Petri dishes. Stepping into the lab, your heart jumps in your chest when you see a shattered test tube on the floor with white powder.

Behind you, Spencer calls out your name and you rush over the door to close it, the chill of the air conditioning blasting behind you.

“Spencer, get back! Get back right now,” you fumble with the lock, shutting yourself into the lab with the vial.

“What’s going on? What’s wrong?” he asks and pushes against the door.

“No, please, Spencer. Get away from the door,” you beg, tears forming in your eyes.

“What’s wrong? Open the door,” he persists as he stares at you through the glass. Was it enough? Was he infected? You couldn’t know for sure.

“I’m so sorry, Spencer,” you mutter, a tear dripping down your cheek as you step back from the door.

“Kid, what’s going on?” you hear Derek call out from behind Spencer as he backs up from the door.

“Call Hotch. Call an ambulance. Call everyone,” he tells Derek as the fear fills your veins. Your hands are so cold, why are they so cold? Spencer’s sweet voice isn’t enough to talk you down from the anxiety building up. This was the tsunami and you were caught in the tidal wave.

Spencer stands away from the door as you wrap your arms around yourself, staring silently out at him. Your phone rings as he calls you and you put it on speaker.

“Tell me what’s going on, everyone’s on their way. You need to describe everything to me,” you can see Spencer’s mind going a million miles an hour and you could see the blame he put on himself. This wasn’t him, this was all you. At least you were right about anthrax getting through you before it did him.

“There’s a body here, I think it’s Nichols, and he’s dead. There’s also a tube that’s shattered. It’s full of white powder, I’m pretty sure it’s anthrax--Spencer,” you pause, staring straight at him. “I don’t want to die, please I’m so scared.”

You hear all the sirens as they approach and you shake your head, more tears falling down your cheeks.

“Sh, you’re okay. You’re gonna be okay,” he says and you can see that all he wants to do is wrap his arms around you. “This is where you can help, remember? It’s your turn to be the hero.”

You look up to him, the tears blurring his figure as you wipe them from your cheeks, nodding.

“You’re right,” you mumble and take a deep breath before beginning to go through the lab. “You’re right.”

First, the body.

Reaching down, you feel the skin of Dr. Nichols and see the blue-ish tint to his skin as well as the way his blood has pooled. He appears to be dead at least for a day or two, Livor mortis has already set in.

“Spence, he’s been dead for maybe one to two days. Blunt force trauma to his head,” you say just as Hotch and another man join Spencer and Derek.

“Doctor, we need to get you to the hospital,” Hotch speaks and you shake your head.

“No, I can help. I’m the only one who can work the case here. I’m already exposed, there’s nothing they can do but give me morphine. I can do this,” you state and turn to the lab, looking around for any important information.

“Just get out of there, you need to go to the hospital,” Spencer insists as you continue to search his desk.

“She’s already infected. Now if Nichols created the strain, he may have also created the cure,” the general says and you grab the papers off his desk, reading through his notes.

“If I’m in here, I can find the cure, or I can make it. If I figure out how he made this strain then I can make the antidote with his notes,” you reply, hearing Spencer sigh with exasperation. “I can also try to see who killed Dr. Nichols, the answer is in here somewhere.”

“Say something to her, order her. She can’t stay in there,” Spencer’s voice cracks and you shake your head, now was not the time to get distracted.

“She’s right, her best chance is to be inside,” Hotch replies and you set your phone down as you read through his writing. “We’re gonna get a suit and mask in to you right away.”

“Don’t bother, I’m already infected,” you mumble and break apart all his lab reports.

“Your dad is going to kill me,” Hotch tells you and you sigh, shaking your head.

“He does his job, I do mine.”

Your mind reels at the information, but you force yourself to focus and read through the reports and how Dr. Nichols managed to make such a potent spore. In your mind, your best bet is a combination antibiotic and antibody treatment to combat the toxins and ensure that any remaining bacteria is killed off.

“I think there was a struggle, there’s glass spread out and clutter all over,” you tell them, looking around and finding another desk in the corner. “There’s also another desk in the corner that’s smaller and organized. It appears there are two sets of handwriting as well as instructions on how to sterilize and transfer spores.”

“Nichols would know all that,” the general states.

“He has a partner, maybe even a protege,” Spencer suggests as Hotch and the general run off to go follow that lead. Your phone begins to vibrate and you see that your father is calling you. Picking up, you put the phone to your ear.

“Papa, I’m so sorry,” you mumble, feeling the tears well up once more. “I’m so sorry.”

“Sh, piccolo. This is not your fault. How are you doing?” he asks and you inhale deeply, beginning to feel sharp pains in your chest.

“I’m fine. I’m working,” you let out a sad laugh and shake your head. “I’m scared.”

“You’re going to be okay,” he tells you and he says it with such conviction that you almost believe him.

“If I’m not--”

“Don’t talk like that,” he cuts you off and you shake your head, wiping the tears from your cheeks.

“If I’m not okay, I just want to tell you that you were the best dad in the whole world and that I love you so much. I’ll tell mom ‘hi’ for you,” you hold in a sob as he begins to protest. “I love you.”

You hang up the phone and sob into your hand, breathing in as deeply as possible to try and stay afloat. Quickly, you call up Penelope as something crosses your mind.

“Hey, you,” Penelope mumbles solemnly.

“No funny quip?” you bite your lip nervously as she sighs.

“I can’t be my sparkly self when you are where you are,” she says.

“Hey, Penny. Do you think you can record something for me?” you ask, glancing out the window to where Spencer is staring in.

“Anything,” you hear her type. “Alright, you’re good.”

“Hey, Spence,” you bite back another sob as it shakes through your chest. “This isn’t how I intended for you to hear this, but here it goes. I love you. So much. And I’m such a coward for not saying it to your face, but, if I’m gone then I want you to know that your brain and your smarts are so incredible, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. I love you so much.”

A woman in an orange suit steps into the room and you quickly hang up your phone, smiling at Dr. Kimura.

“Dr. Montgomery,” she says as does her best to walk in the suit.

“You look nice,” you say and let out a shaky laugh. “How is everyone else doing?”

“Let’s worry about you,” she states and you nod as Spencer calls you back. You answer and put him on speaker.

“Hey, it’s me and Garcia,” he tells you as a tickle in your throat bubbles up and makes you cough. “I think the cure is in there somewhere. Dr. Nichols was a former military scientist so he’s secretive and paranoid. Prentiss and Rossi don’t think the partner was a coworker.”

“Can you look for the cure while I help them?” you ask Dr. Kimura and she nods as you look around the room. “I’ve been through everything, Spence.”

“I know you’re not thinking straight,” his voice cracks. “But, we need you.”

You clear your throat and nod.

“You’re right,” you rush over to his desk and look through his items. “There’s a picture of him teaching and a syllabus.”

You think back to the instructions and think for a moment.

“Hold on,” you run over to the other desk and look at the content. “It’s a student, it has to be if he went through the trouble of writing lab procedures.”

Picking up the thick stack of paper, you instantly recognize it as some sort of thesis. Years of curating your own, you would never forget it.

“A thesis, his partner was a doctoral student,” sweat drips down your hairline as you sift through the papers.

“He wouldn’t have let just anyone in there so perhaps he opened his lab to a student,” Spencer formulates as you read through the paper. “Check the sciences.”

“Uh, cross-checking with names of former employees or customers with grievances at the bookstore.” Penelope types away at her keyboard as you read through the paper, it mentions things like preparedness and less about the spores itself as well as scientific findings. “Nothing, my doves.”

“This doesn’t sound like a science student, this is all about city preparedness, and response,” you cough and try not to stress about the taste of blood in your mouth.

“Check the social studies,” Spencer states. “Public policy, urban planning.”

“Hot to trot. There’s a Chad Brown, School of Public Policy at U. of M. matches a Chad Brown, former employee at the book front. I’ll tell Hotch,” Penelope hangs up as you stifle another cough, the pain in your chest worsening.

“You did it, now get out of there,” Spencer says and you turn to Dr. Kimura as you let out another cough. Blood splatters on your hand and you wipe it on your pants.

“You said the cure would be hidden somewhere we wouldn’t suspect. What about Nichols’ inhaler?” she walks up with the inhaler as you put Spencer on speaker.

“Sounds perfect. I’ll see you out here,” he says and you hang up as the two of you walk out of the lab and into the tent where people are ready to spray you down. You let the tears flow freely now that you’re out and the water rolls over you in an attempt to get rid of all the powder that might have stuck. Spencer is outside the tent speaking to Hotch and your father as you get naked and hosed down. Once they’re finished, you’re toweled down and put into a gown as you get on the gurney and are wheeled off to the ambulance.

“Hey, you,” you mutter weakly to Spencer as he walks alongside you. Another cough bursts out of your chest.

“I’m seeing you off to the hospital, the team doesn’t need me,” he states and you nod, taking his hand as they get you into the ambulance. There is a sharp pain in your lungs every time that you move and you cough up blood more and more. The lights in the ambulance are too bright and you feel so hot as Dr. Kimura places her stethoscope on your chest.

“How are you feeling, Dr. Montgomery?” she asks as you fail to hold back another cough.

“I’m obey,” your eyes widen as the words in your head fail to come out of your mouth. “Obey. I fleel fin.”

Your eyes water as you look over at her and then at Spencer who watches you in terror.

“Okay, that’s okay,” she mutters to you before calling out to the driver. “Driver, faster.”

The sound of your heart beating echoes in your head is nausea and dizziness loom over you, making you close your eyes. All the sounds, including Spencer who seems to be calling out to you, dissipate as you drift off into the darkness. At least he would know.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #emily prentiss #jj #Jennifer Jareau #david rossi #aaron hotchner #Penelope Garcia #derek morgan #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction

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greenjacketwhitehatdocmui · 3 years

Text

Frozen: In the Details

Summary: Sometimes, the simplest of tasks can have a deeper meaning. Agnarr muses on what washing the car has meant to him in the past, and possibly the future. This was written for the “Summer Lovin’” issue of @frozines on Tumblr. Modern AU, Agduna and Kristanna.

This story can be found on @frozines and at Fanfiction.net and Archive of Our Own.

Enjoy!

--Pearson “Doc” Mui

Frozen: In the Details by Pearson “Doc” Mui

Agnarr awoke early on a Saturday. With some grumbling, Iduna released him from their bed as he prepared for the day. She understood that this task had to be done early in the morning, but she didn’t have to like it. If things worked out, however, it would have been worth waking up early for.

After a quick breakfast and some cleanup, Agnarr trotted to the garage. The spring in his step ran counter to the occasional crackling sound in his knees. Even the projected thirty percent chance of rain did nothing to dampen his spirits.

Eyeing one corner of the garage, he chose his tools for the day’s task. Buckets, wash mitts and car soap were laid out on the garage floor. After a moment, he opened up some folding chairs and a small table.

Opening the garage door, he smiled at the sight of his girls coming home, if only for today. They were adults now; Elsa was working on her PhD while Anna was a year into graduate school. The nest was never empty for too long, thankfully. They made time to visit, even if it was just for small talk.

Elsa eyed him ruefully before accepting a quick hug. She had a pretty good idea of what he had planned for their incoming guest. Anna, on the other hand, was pouting.

“Dad, are you really going to put Kristoff through this?” Clearly, his youngest wasn’t pleased at the prospect.

Agnarr raised an eyebrow. “The way you’re talking, you’d think that I was going to torture him. It’s just a car wash between men.” He sighed. “You used to love helping me wash the car.”

“I remember that you loved using the hose,” Elsa reminded Anna. There wasn’t any real bite to her words, though. “We used to help while wearing swimsuits.”

Anna’s pout faded as she sighed, briefly lost in nostalgia. “Those were good times, weren’t they?”

Iduna folded her arms and sighed. Both of her girls were wearing swimsuits underneath their shirts and shorts. Anna eagerly fingered the trigger to the hose while Elsa made sure the supplies were in order.

Elsa was having a good day. It hadn’t taken too much cajoling to get her outside. Anna’s puppy-dog eyes were a formidable weapon, especially at the tender age of eight.

Most men would have insisted on doing “man stuff” by themselves. Agnarr wanted to have as many family activities as possible. Everyone had a job: Agnarr would wash the car, Anna would rinse it off and Elsa would take care of the windows. Iduna was there for spot-checking and refreshments.

“Is everyone ready?” he asked enthusiastically.

“Ready!” Anna piped up.

“I’m ready, Papa,” Elsa said more demurely.

He nodded. “Well, let’s get this car clean, shall we?”

Iduna marveled at their coordination. Everyone worked their roles admirably. Of course, a family wash like this was more for fun than work. There wouldn’t be any intensely-detailed work like Agnarr had done before—

She suppressed a shudder. Agnarr’s father had been a cold taskmaster. He was more of a sire than an actual, warm father figure. While she took no pleasure in anyone’s passing, she had admit that the town had been the better for it.

The calm lasted almost the entire time the car was being washed. Then Anna got a little overzealous with the hose and sprayed into the air.

“Look, Elsa! Look Papa! I’m making rainbows—oops.” Anna laughed nervously as she realized that both Elsa and Agnarr were soaked.

Iduna sighed, safe in the garage. She knew that it was going to end up like this.

With calm, deliberate steps, she retreated further into the garage and grabbed a third, covered bucket from its hiding place. She and Agnarr had prepared this little surprise last night. With some effort, she hoisted the bucket to the driveway and uncovered it.

Iduna reached into the bucket and grabbed a water balloon. She gestured for everyone to do the same.

“On three,” she said firmly. “One, two—“

“THREE!” Anna squealed.

The battle was joined. When it was over, they were collapsed on the lawn, soaked through and basking in the summer sun. It had been a good day.

“Morning, girls,” Iduna greeted them. “Have you had breakfast yet? I could fix something up.”

“We’re fine, Mom,” Elsa reassured her. “We ate before we came here.”

Anna blinked and winced as she ran back to her car, an unassuming Honda Civic. Rummaging around, she extracted a bag and jogged back.

“We stopped by Hudson’s Hearth,” Anna said. “Destin and Halima say `hello.’” She opened it up and the three women sniffed deeply at the smell that wafted out.

“Hmm…chocolate,” they chorused. For a moment, they were lost in the smell of the pastries.

Agnarr tried not to chuckle. The apples didn’t fall far from the tree.

He turned away from them and tried not to look too anxious or expectant. In the brief encounters he’d had before, Kristoff had seemed like a nice enough young man. It was clear that he cared greatly for Anna.

Unfortunately, Anna hadn’t been so lucky the first time. At first glance, Hans had seemed like a good person, too. But the devil was always in the details—or, in this case, the detailing.

Hans had pulled into their driveway in a Ferrari. To Agnarr, this was the first clue that the young man might have been trying too hard.

“Good morning, Mr. Arendelle!” Hans greeted him enthusiastically. “So, who’s going to get the royal car wash treatment?”

“We’ll be taking care of Anna’s car,” Agnarr said. “I already waxed our cars last week. I figured that Anna’s car could use a cleanup.”

Hans’s smile froze. There was a dark shadow of disappointment in his eyes.

“Oh,” Hans said simply. Then he rallied. “Oh, of course,” he agreed. “Nothing but the best for Anna.”

“I’m glad that you agree,” Agnarr said. “I have all the supplies in the garage. Was there anything you needed?”

“Thank you sir, but I brought my own things,” Hans said smoothly. He almost strutted to the Ferrari and pulled out some high-end detailing supplies from the little trunk. They were all brand new and still in the package.

“Do you use all this on your own car?” Agnarr asked.

Hans paused. Then he smiled in an ingratiating manner. “I don’t compromise on quality, Mr. Arendelle. As I said before, I want only the best for Anna.”

As the time passed, Agnarr noticed several things he wasn’t sure that he liked. Hans insisted on doing it all himself, even though Agnarr had offered to help. Whenever Anna caught his eye, Hans flexed and winked.

It was clear to Agnarr that Hans had never washed a car in his life. He was washing randomly instead of methodically, “politely” refusing any suggestions. He was sloppy applying the wax, squirting a long line on the car and working from there. Furthermore, when Hans thought that neither Agnarr nor Anna was looking, he scowled.

Agnarr did not have a good feeling about Hans. He tried to voice his objections to Anna, but she was entirely captivated by how charming, selfless and helpful he was. Hans was, in her eyes, flawless. It was not a good sign.

“I’m not sure it’ll work out,” he admitted to Iduna later on. It pained him to see Anna clinging to Hans’s every word. It was obvious that Anna was utterly besotted with Hans.

“I didn’t know that a car wash was a personality test,” she joked. Her smile faded as she noted his grim expression. “You’re serious?”

He sighed heavily. “He doesn’t take any suggestions or criticism. He shows off when he knows that people are looking. When he thinks nobody’s looking, it’s obvious that he’s not really enjoying himself.” He paused. “And honestly, even Anna could see that he did a terrible job of it.”

“Elsa doesn’t like him, either,” she said. “Something about how he seems insincere to everyone except the person he’s focusing on.”

“Dad had that kind of charm,” Agnarr admitted. “He was better at it, though. Hardly anyone saw his dark side.”

She flinched. “We should warn her.”

“I’m not sure she’d listen. She has an incredibly forgiving heart and Hans will take full advantage of it. You saw how besotted she was with him. I could practically see the hearts floating from her.”

“So we do nothing?” Those words left a bad taste in her mouth.

“No.” He shook his head. “We hope for the best and prepare for the worst. If he tries to isolate her, we find ways to keep in contact. Elsa’s ready to intervene if she has to.”

She nodded. “And what if he goes too far?”

His expression darkened. “Then I will make certain that he never huts anyone again.”

“Just you?” she asked. “You never let me have any fun.”

“Fine, I can go after you,” he sighed. “Not that there would be much left.”

Anna’s enthusiastic greeting to Kristoff’s truck broke Agnarr out of his reverie. He chuckled as Kristoff parked his truck on the side of the road. It was a small gesture of consideration, one of many that he’d observed. Kristoff wasn’t rich and he hadn’t been able to afford the best education, but he was kind and sincere.

“Woof!”

Oh, and Kristoff had a big, friendly dog. The girls had taken to him almost immediately, with Anna babbling baby-talk as Elsa looked embarrassed. Iduna was not immune to Sven’s “puppy in a big body” charm. As for Agnarr, he was fond of the big dog as well—though he tried to be restrained about it.

“Mr. Arendelle,” Kristoff greeted Agnarr politely—and a bit nervously. “Um, I hope you don’t mind that I brought Sven. The big lug didn’t want to stay home.”

“That’s fine,” Agnarr said reasonably. “As long as he behaves himself, I don’t have any problem.”

“He’s a total sweetie, Dad,” Anna said from behind. “Want me to keep an eye on him?” She asked Kristoff.

“That’d be great, thanks,” he said. “If he gets fidgety, you know what to do.”

Opening the door, he grabbed Sven’s leash. The big dog jumped out and waited for Anna to accept the lead. After the obligatory scratch behind the ears and baby talk, she and Sven headed to the shelter of the garage.

“So, um, I brought some stuff with me,” Kristoff admitted. He rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous gesture. “Of course, if there’s something you want to use, I’m okay with that.”

Agnarr scrutinized the equipment in the back of the truck. The microfiber towels had been neatly folded in their own, zip-locked bag. Two buckets with grates inside met with his approval. He did arch an eyebrow at the orbital polisher and pads, something that his late father would have taken issue with. There were spray bottles of wheel cleaner, “ceramic wax,” something for the upholstery and something called “instant detailer.” Everything was in good condition, but it was obvious that the equipment had seen some use.

“Do you think I brought too much?” Kristoff asked nervously. “Maybe I overdid it.”

“I think this will be just fine,” Agnarr said. He turned towards Anna. “What are you in the mood for today?” he asked.

“Well, I really don’t need anything fancy,” she replied. “Why? What did you have in mind?”

“I could probably get rid of some of those swirl marks,” Kristoff suggested. “If you want, I mean. Think of it as kind of exfoliating your car.”

She lifted an eyebrow at the metaphor. “Well…maybe just the hood and the trunk,” she allowed. She quirked the corner of her mouth in amusement. “You just want to use your little toy, don’t you?”

“Well, I saved up for it,” he admitted. “So, smooth out the hood and trunk, got it.”

Agnarr tried not to chuckle. “You have a polisher, don’t you?”

“It’s nothing fancy,” Kristoff said. “I saved up for it, so I figured I might as well get some mileage out of it.”

“He waxes his truck every few weeks,” Anna said. “You know, I kind of feel bad that you’re doing all this for my car. Maybe I could take care of the upholstery or something?”

The two men shared a look. Anna was dressed practically for the warm weather. There was nothing objectionable about her jean shorts and t-shirt. However, crawling around to wipe down the seats would have been awkward, to say the least.

“How about I walk you through getting your trunk polished?” Kristoff suggested. “It’s not that hard.”

“You’re letting me touch your baby?” Anna asked dubiously.

“My polisher is not my baby,” Kristoff protested. Then there was a warmth in his smile that made her flush. “I trust you.”

“So…you’d let me wax your truck?” she teased.

“Why don’t we start with your car first?” Agnarr gently interrupted. “We don’t want to wait too long, after all.”

Elsa quietly smiled as the men worked on the car. They had been surprisingly efficient and coordinated well together. There were moments when one man had to offer feedback to the other, but neither of them took any offense. It was an unusual kind of camaraderie.

Kristoff was a vast improvement over Hans. What he lacked in funds, he more than made up for in heart. He may have been a little rough around the edges, but there was no doubt that Anna was the most important person in his life.

She heard one breathy sigh, then another. She noted the very contented looks on the faces to either side of her. Then she noted that even in the relatively cool summer weather, Kristoff and her father had worked up quite the sweat, their shirts clinging to them.

With a quiet, resigned sigh, she went into the house. Her sister and mother were oblivious to her absence.

A few moments later, she returned with a tray of drinks and two towels. She set the tray on a nearby work bench and took two tall glasses of lemonade with her.

Anna still had a dazed, dopey expression on her face. Iduna wasn’t much better.

Elsa took Anna’s free hand, the one that wasn’t holding Sven’s leash, and gently placed the glass in her palm. With a start, she blinked as if she were coming out of a spell.

Elsa did the same for their mother. Iduna’s reaction was much the same as Anna’s.

Elsa couldn’t resist a little smirk. “I thought you two might want something to drink,” she said. “You both looked…thirsty.”

Iduna and Anna rolled their eyes at the double-entendre. Behind the cool exterior that Elsa projected, she could be quite the joker—even if her humor tended to be on the dry side.

“Very funny,” Anna returned. “We’re just appreciating their hard work.”

“We certainly are,” Iduna agreed. “Both of them are very diligent.”

“Well, maybe we could reward their diligence with a towel and a sports drink?” Elsa suggested, gesturing to the tray. “I think they could use it.”

Agnarr wiped the sweat off of his forehead. While he still enjoyed washing cars, he was reminded that he wasn’t a young man anymore. Even though he and Kristoff were cutting the workload in half, he was still going to be sore tomorrow morning.

Still, it was gratifying to see how seriously Kristoff took things. He was methodical and, more importantly, he seemed to be genuinely enjoying himself. He concentrated on the job at hand and accepted feedback.

“You’ve had some experience,” he observed. “With washing cars, I mean.”

Kristoff gave a one-shoulder shrug. “I worked part-time at the car wash one summer,” he replied. “I guess it kind of stuck.” He wiped at his brow. “I wouldn’t want to do it for a living, though.”

“I had to…earn things by washing cars,” Agnarr said. “My father was a big believer in hard work.”

Kristoff said nothing. He could tell by the older man’s tone that there were mixed emotions.

Agnarr wiped the sweat off his brow, if only to not drip on his father’s Cadillac. The “beast,” as he jokingly called it, was an ostentatious symbol of his father’s wealth and practicality. It was practical in that any repairs or maintenance could be easily obtained within the town.

As he wiped off a clear path in the baked-on wax, he saw his tired, sweaty reflection in the black depths of the “beast.” He had just spent the last four hours under the hot July sun. Every detail had been supervised by his father, who was resting in the shade with a beer. Every once in a while, his father would shout words of—

“Come on, boy!” Runeard exclaimed. “Put your back into it! In my day, we had to deal with Blue Coral. You’ve got it easy with that wax!”

Agnarr said nothing. His father often deducted from the anticipated payment if he talked back. It was one of the little ways that the family company kept people in line.

It took another half hour to clear off the last of the wax. His arms trembling, he stood up straight and awaited judgment—and hopefully, payment.

Runeard took one last draw of his beer and got up. He circled around the Cadillac and murmured in—well, it wasn’t quite approval. It was more like he acknowledged that the job had been done.

Agnarr tried to keep calm. He didn’t dare show how eager he was to get paid. He couldn’t ever let his feelings show, not in front of his father.

Runeard wiped his index finger down the hood and felt for any errant wax. There was one last murmur as he nodded.

“It’ll do,” Runeard declared. With exaggerated magnanimity, he took out a twenty and handed it to Agnarr. Then the scowl returned as his nostrils flared. “Get cleaned up before you go, boy. And you’d better stay away from those filthy people.”

Agnarr nodded once. The less his father knew about his outings with Iduna, the better.

With one last scowl, Runeard shooed him away from the car. It was the same dismissive gesture he might have used for a servant. It certainly reinforced Agnarr’s place in the world—at least in Runeard’s mind.

Agnarr trudged back into the house. He didn’t have to play up his muscle aches. He did have to remind himself not to smile in front of his father.

Those long, hot hours had been worth it. The aches had been worth it. Above all, Iduna was worth it.

Agnarr forced himself to take long, slow sips of the sports drink as he toweled off the sweat. The exterior had been cleaned and dried, including the wheels. All that was left was the interior and waxing the car.

“You’re in good shape for your age, but don’t overdo it,” Iduna warned him gently. “There’s no one to show off to.”

“I’m not showing off,” he replied. “I’m just…enjoying the moment.”

“What moment?” she asked.

He turned his gaze to where Kristoff was showing Anna the bottle of detailer spray and some sort of yellow clay. He sprayed the hood and wiped the clay across the surface. Then he took a microfiber towel and wiped off any residue.

“See these little dots and specks?” Kristoff pointed to the clay bar. “These are contaminants that stick on your paint. We want to get rid of those before we polish out the swirls. After that, we put on the wax and we’re all set.” He paused. “Here, feel where I just cleaned it up.”

Anna tentatively brushed a finger across the surface. Blue eyes widened in amazement.

“Whoa, that’s…really smooth,” she said. “So, you do this every time you wax your truck?”

He shook his head. “No, this is only once or twice a year. This used to be a big secret for the car shops until a few years ago.”

Iduna turned back to Agnarr and nodded in understanding. There wasn’t a hint of arrogance or condescension in Kristoff’s voice. He merely wanted to inform Anna about something he liked.

As the morning went on, Agnarr noted how patient Kristoff was with Anna. He was a good teacher, putting his polisher in Anna’s hands. It was obvious that Kristoff trusted her implicitly—and she felt the same about him.

By the time they were done, Anna’s Honda had never looked better. Anna and Kristoff took a moment to bask in their shared accomplishment. The car gleamed in the light, despite the clouds coming in.

“Good job, feisty pants,” Kristoff complimented her. “She looks great.”

“Oh, I didn’t do all that much,” she demurred. “You and Dad did all the hard work.”

“Oh, it’s not as hard as the old days,” Agnarr chimed in. “Believe me, I would have been a lot less sore if we had that ceramic wax back then. It’s a lot easier to take off than baked-on Turtle Wax.”

Any further comment was forestalled when Sven sniffed the air. The big dog made a dissatisfied, grumbling sound. Moments later, the sky darkened with an ominous rumble.

“Oh, no…” Agnarr groaned. “There wasn’t supposed to be any rain today!”

“That figures,” Kristoff sighed heavily. He eyed the back of his truck.

Elsa checked her phone. “Looks like there’ll be heavy showers for an hour or two.”

“But we just finished it!” Anna groaned.

Kristoff perked up a little. “Well, I’ve got a tarp in the back of my truck. I could cover up your car until the rain stops.”

Anna blinked. “You’re prepared.”

He shrugged. “Sometimes life is like that. You get little bumps in the road and do the best you can. Experience is the toughest teacher. C’mon, let’s get this done.”

Moments later, Anna’s car was safely covered just before the deluge hit. Everyone watched the rain from inside the garage. Kristoff and Agnarr were toweling off their hair. They were both soaked form the rain.

“Sorry it didn’t work out, sir,” Kristoff said.

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” Agnarr replied. “I’d say that this was a very productive day.”

Kristoff looked at him quizzically. “How so?”

Behind him, Anna looked puzzled while Elsa looked satisfied. Clearly, something was going on.

“Do you have anywhere you need to go?” Agnarr asked casually.

“Not until the rain stops,” Kristoff replied. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, until then, I suppose that you and Sven are our guests. Do you have any requests for lunch?”

Kristoff held up his hands. “Sir, I really don’t want to impose. I’m sure you were looking forward to time with your family.”

“I am,” Agnarr acknowledged with a nod. “Of course, this can include prospective members of my family.”

“But Sven—“

“He’s covered,” Elsa said. She reached in her purse and held up a can of dog food.

Kristoff blinked as Sven leaned against Elsa. “Did you know about this?” he asked Anna.

She shook her head. “Nope. It’s news to me.”

“Relax,” Agnarr said calmly. “I’m not bringing out the shotgun for you two. I’m just asking if you’d like to stay for lunch.��

“I—sure, if it’s no trouble,” he agreed.

“No trouble at all,” Iduna reassured him. “There’s plenty in the Instant Pot to go around.” She opened the door to the house and the smell of hearty stew wafted outside.

“Useful, isn’t it?” Elsa remarked. She paused and dug out something else from her purse. She handed a large, folded square of cloth to Kristoff. “You’ll need this.”

He grimaced at the t-shirt he’d been handed. It wasn’t his, but it was definitely his size. The words “love expert” were boldly emblazoned on the front, complete with hearts.

“Elsa!” Anna exclaimed.

“Yes?” Elsa could not have pretended to be more innocent if she’d batted her eyes.

“You are a stinker. No, you are a scheming, plotting stinker. This was a conspiracy!” Anna declared.

Elsa and Agnarr had matching smirks. That was unsettling to both Anna and Kristoff.

“Well, I didn’t plan on the rain,” Agnarr admitted. “You are welcome in my house.” He paused. “While you are in my house, I do expect you two to…mind your manners.”

Agnarr turned to go inside. He only briefly paused when he passed Elsa.

“They’re blushing, aren’t they?” he murmured.

“Oh, yes,” Elsa agreed.

“Good.”

Elsa lingered for a moment, a smug little smirk on her face. Then she tapped her thigh and Sven followed her inside.

“Your Dad really doesn’t have a shotgun, does he?”

“I…don’t think so. I think he likes you.”

“That’s…good,” Kristoff got out awkwardly. “I mean, it’s better than the alternative.”

Wordlessly, Anna reached out. He gently took her hand as her eyes shone.

“Come on, Mr. Love Expert,” she said. “Let’s have a family lunch.”

Kristoff’s expression softened. “Sounds good to me.”

The End

#frozen #frozines #summer lovin'#agnarr #iduna #agduna #anna #elsa #kristoff #hans #kristanna #my writing

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myjjbaby · 4 years

Note

Hey could you do a jj and reader, where she is there when he gives his dad the money and he told her to stay inside or something and then she hears the fight and comes outside when jj has the wrench and talks him down, maybe ending in smut if you’re comfortable or just heavy fluff.

hold on

author’s note - and anotha’ one! JJ actually owns my ass wow but here’s another request! i chose not to go smut with this one because it seemed a little too harsh but im totally open to writing some jj sexy time lol side note - please don’t expect me to whip these out fast because im a slow writer and i want them to be decent before i post

synopsis - requested by anon! when everything goes to shit and JJ needs you, you break a promise.

warning - 1.1k of pretty angsty stuff and abuse

“We’re sick of your shit.”

“John B-”

“Don’t defend him, he pulled you into this too, Y/N, y ‘know that right?”

“Oh, my shit?”

You went to grab JJ’s arm, holding him back so he wouldn’t do something he’d regret.

“Yes, your shit.”

“Yes, JJ. You’ve been pulling guns on people.”

“You’re acting like a freaking maniac!”

You sent a quick look to Kiara and Pope, they may be your best friends but neither of them should have said anything. Your boyfriend would not take lightly to people yelling at him, he would start a fight with a short temper like his.

You dozed out, never being a confrontational type, as Pope and JJ argued. You barely even noticed how dire the situation was getting until the blonde boy slipped out of your grip, taking a step closer to his friend.

“Yeah? Well I just did! Pay it back. Right here, right now, by myself,” your heart was nearly shattered as he stepped away from all of you, “you know what? That’s exactly what I’m going to do,” he grabbed the navy duffel holding twenty-five thousand dollars in cash, “go off, by myself.”

JJ started walking away from the group while his friends watched on. Kiara went forward to talk him out of it but Pope arm stopped him.

“Let him go.”

You shook your head, knowing the last thing JJ should be is alone. You went to follow but John B took a step to block you.

“Don’t,” you mumbled before racing after your boy.

He wasn’t too far ahead, his foot kicking rocks on the side of the road. JJ hadn’t noticed you following until your hand brushed his. His shocked eyes turned to your before setting into a harsh glare.

“Y/N, go back to the others.”

You shook your head, grabbing his hand again when he tried to pull away.

“Please,” his voice cracked, “just go. I need to bring this home.”

“I know, which is why I’m coming with you.”

JJ shook his head, pulling his hand from yours again. You knew he hated bringing you into his home life. You were the good side of his life which he wanted to keep far from the bad parts.

“No, I don’t want you anywhere near him.”

You knew he was referring to Luke Maybank, his father.

“If you think for a second I’m letting you go home without me, you don’t know me very well.”

JJ groaned something about your stubbornness before grabbing your hand in his warm one. You smiled at his affection, glad that he wouldn’t be doing this alone.

“Stay out here,” they had reached the turn where his driveway touches the main road, “don’t come into the house, okay?”

“JJ-”

“No, I want you safe.”

You nodded but he wasn’t done.

“Promise me, baby, promise me you’ll stay away.”

He didn’t pull his hand away until you muttered a soft promise, JJ nodded along with you, satisfied with your agreement to his terms. With a shaky smile and a quick kiss to your temple, JJ Maybank headed towards the yellow house that was supposed to be home.

As the time went on, your heartbeat fastened with your breath. Your hands shook while you stared at the wicker porch in the distance. Frozen in your spot, you didn’t move until you heard it. JJ yelling.

“You gave me nothing! You gave me nothing but a shitty life! All you ever did,” he emphasized each word with a punch to Luke’s jaw, “was try to scare me,” another punch, “well guess what? I’m not scared of you anymore.”

The blonde boy was shaking about his father when you finally reached them, JJ holding a rusted wrench in the air as you rushed to the ground beside him.

“JJ?”

You grabbed his wrist, noticing Luke Maybank was nearly unconscious and couldn’t hurt the boy you loved. Slowly, you helped JJ lower the tool towards the ground.

“I ain’t,” his voice broke off into a soft cry, “I ain’t scared of you no more.”

You grabbed his forearms, gently lifting him away from the older man still laid out on the grass. You walked JJ back towards the house and decided to question him about the broken screen panel in the porch later. He held tightly to you, his sobs muffled into your tanned shoulder. Your fingers threaded into his hair, lips pressed into the soft waves, and whispered calming mumbles into the heartbreaking silence.

He didn’t pull away until you had walked him up the stairs. Grabbing you in one hand and the navy duffel in the other, the two of you walked away from the scene and towards John B’s chateau.

The journey along the road was quiet except for JJ’s sniffles, each one making you grip his fingers tighter. He suddenly stopped in his tracks forcing you to take a few steps back and turn towards him. Your heart dropped with him as he fell to his knees, ignoring the painful grit of the gravel below him. JJ tucked his face into your stomach and he wrapped his arms around the small of your back holding you close to him.

“JJ?”

You lowered yourself onto the ground with him, his head now buried into your neck.

“You promised me you’d stay away.”

“I’m sorry,” you really weren’t, “I couldn’t just watch on.”

He was still mad at you but that simmered away as he pulled you deeper into himself. His shoulders shook as he took deep breaths, lungs heaving as he desperately searched for air.

“I was going to do it,” he sobbed into your skin, “I just- I can’t take him anymore.”

“I know, J, I know.”

“I was going to kill him.”

Your breath stopped and you held him tighter against your body, holding the broken boy together. Your eyes filled with tears, but you willed them away, knowing JJ would be ruined if he knew how upset you were. Always taking care of you before himself.

“Look at me, baby,” he shook his head, inhaling you deeper, “JJ, look at me.”

His eyes met yours, the familiar baby blues looked muddied by the emotions that shook through him.

“You didn’t though, JJ, you stopped yourself. You know why? Because you're better than him. You’re more the man than he’ll ever be, hell more a man than anyone I’ve ever met.”

He cried harder, trying to pull you closer until there wasn’t a gap between your flustered skin and his shirt.

“Just hold on, okay? Hold on a bit longer. We’re going to be better.”

“And if we can’t be better?”

“We will be.”

#jj maybank #outer banks #outerbanksedit #recs #john b #like damn #kiara carrera #sarah cameron #obx requests #obx #jj obx #jj #jj x reader #jj maybank x reader #jj angst

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secret-engima · 3 years

Note

I concur. The last option is the best. Maybe a few headcanons or snippets on how Angeal got roped into being a Braincell again? (Bonus if he originally refuses the call because *cough* Genesis *cough* but still ends up bundling up Ardyn and giving him some calming tea while in complete denial)

Hmmmm finally up for rambling this ask so buckle up!

-Angeal has no desire to be anyone special. He has had a good childhood this time around, with two loving parents and no scientific experimentation whatsoever. His father is one of the gardeners for the Oracles themselves and Angeal is perfectly content to follow in those footsteps once his father retires. He hopes for a peaceful life and carefully hides his lingering guilt and trauma from another life under the mental carpet, and refuses to admit he still dreams of the people he failed (Sephiroth who he abandoned, Genesis who he couldn’t save, his mother who committed suicide because of her guilt at what he’d become, his son apprentice Zack whom he forced to kill him).

-He is befriended by the young Princess, who smiles at him and is content to talk for hours about the flowers and plants he helps maintain. She follows him around sometimes, both asking for advice and giving it impulsively, and even though she is just a child, she has an impressive green thumb and an even more impressive kind heart. He knows that everyone says the Princess is ... odd. And she is. She is too old for her skin sometimes, too wise and too silly by turns in the way only someone who has seen it all and come out the other side can be.

-Privately, Angeal thinks she might be like him. Someone who remembers another life. But he never asks. He never admits. It doesn’t matter anyway. They are both content in their respective new lives, there is no need to drag up ghosts.

-Then one day Fenestala Manor ... burns. A lot of people are killed. A lot more are terrified and grieving and angry. There are whispers of rebellion, of defiance, but none dare when the late Oracle’s children are within Niflheim’s grasp.

-Angeal (who now wears the name Theseus like a suit he refuses to admit doesn’t fit right) keeps his head down and makes no moves to step out of line. He played hero once and he became the monster instead. He will not make that mistake a second time. He does, however, try to make his garden a sanctuary for the poor Princess. He can’t imagine how she must feel, to lose her mother so young, to be held captive by her mother’s killers, to have a brother who rages and cries and pulls bitterly away because he cannot see that his sister is grieving, just in a different way.

-Then the Chancellor of Niflheim visits for the first time, and Angeal only knows because he spots the Princess leading the bemused, sharp-tongued man around the garden, smiling and gentle and welcoming, like she is speaking to an old friend and not one of the leaders of the nation holding her hostage. Angeal keeps his head down, but the Princess trusts him and seems to think he makes fine company for a princess and an enemy politician, and she drags him over to talk about the flower crown she is making their guest.

-The Chancellor smiles and verbally cuts open Angeal in only the most veiled, politest ways. It’s almost impressive, if it didn’t remind him too much of Genesis. So Angeal pretends to not notice and hopes the man goes away and never comes back.

-He goes away.

-He keeps coming back.

-And Angeal keeps finding them in his garden, the Princess and her dangerous, half-mad guest (and Angeal knows madness, he has seen it in faces of friends and mirrors alike, he knows what the Chancellor hides behind his flowery words and indulgent smiles it is not anything nice), and he keeps getting dragged into the conversation, and somewhere along the way he notices that it’s almost always raining on the days the Chancellor visits. A pleasant, faint sort of rain that is almost as nice to be out in as sunshine. If it’s not raining before he arrives, it is within the hour he appears, and it always leaves within the hour the Chancellor does. And that the rain itself whispers against his skin like magic, like the faintest, most persistent of cure spells that Angeal hasn’t felt since he woke up as Theseus.

-Its a coincidence until it’s not. It’s happenstance until Angeal spots the glimmers of something quieter and saner appearing in the man with each visit and flower crown and long, rainy day conversation with the young Oracle.

-It’s not his problem until he stumbles on the man in question vomiting his guts out behind the gardening shed while the Princess has briefly been called away by nervous servants who make up any excuse to keep her away from the Chancellor she seems set on befriending.

-And Angeal has no desire to take another self-destructive, sharp-tongued, venom-fanged, art-loving, idiot redhead under his wing, but he likes to think he isn’t a horrible person in this life, so he gently rescues the man’s hat before it can fall into the smoking black (???) bile and gently steers the man to the nearby plastic chair Angeal sits on when maintaining his tools. He steps into the shed and comes back out with the thermos of tea he was saving for his own lunch and gently pushes the cup into the man’s hands while gold eyes stare at him and toy with his murder (Angeal has seen this powerful man in a moment of weakness, if Angeal disappears in the next two weeks, he won’t die surprised).

-“You should drink,” Angeal tells him softly, “It will help your stomach settle.”

-“Oh will it now.” Ardyn Izunia drawls even as he takes a slow sip of the herbal blend and makes the tiniest face at the taste. They stay in silence for a while, with the Chancellor recovering his breath on the chair and Angeal debating what to do with the patch of very dead ground where black bile was moments ago and healthy grass had been long before that. In the end he covers it with a piece of old tarp and decides to brave the potential radioactive spot later. Once the man who apparently had that stuff inside him has calmed down and hopefully left.

-“You’re taking this very calmly,” Izunia drawls, and Angeal can feel the barbs on the other man’s tongue, waiting to be unleashed at the slightest provocation.

-“You’re hardly the first man to get an upset stomach,” Angeal deflects calmly, “It’s perfectly normal.”

-A scoff that is startled enough to count as a genuine laugh, “Normal, he says.”

-Angeal ignores the question in there and instead turns around to look thoughtfully at the Chancellor. Without his hat to hide his face and his venomous smiles to discourage scrutiny the man looks ... exhausted. Rung dry. And very, very thin. Like he hasn’t eaten a good meal (or anything at all) in days.

-A workaholic maybe? Or something worse. The Princess is an Oracle after all, her duty will be to heal the sick of the otherwise incurable. It isn’t that much of a jump to say she could sense that Ardyn Izunia was sick and was trying to help even while untrained. Either way it’s not his problem. He’s just a gardener. He has no business interacting with this man beyond the times the Princess insists he does.

-He keeps telling himself that as he disappears back into his shed and comes out with another thermos, this one of soup (it’s a good thing it’s chilly weather, otherwise he would have brought a sandwich and that might be too hard for this man to stomach). He offers a cup of still warm soup to the Chancellor, who stares at it like he doesn’t remember what it is. Angeal keeps holding it out until the man takes it from him, “...You have no idea what is going on do you,” Izunia rasps as he sips almost experimentally on the soup.

-Angeal shrugs, “No. But you look like you could use a sit down, some tea, and some food, and my mother would kill me herself if I refused to share what I had with someone who might need it more.”

-A sneer and a flicker of something furious in gold eyes, “Pity then.”

-Angeal turns back from where he had been about to wander off and resume gardening, because he knows that tone and he knows where it leads and it hurts too much to walk away (this lifetime), “No.” He snaps and the Chancellor blinks in surprise at Angeal’s sudden fire. Angeal picks up the tools he needs for the next hour and says more quietly, “Kindness.”

-“Are they not the same thing?”

-Angeal thinks of a blinding smile from a boy in another life who didn’t know the darkness of the world and made it better in the process, of the Princess who welcomes a leader of the enemy into her home and gives him flowers like he is a long-lost friend. He thinks of another redhead who once said something very similar before the end. He dares to meet golden eyes again, “No,” he tells the Chancellor, “they aren’t. But you’re a smart man. I think you knew that already.”

-Ardyn Izunia stares at him and is, for once, speechless. Angeal turns and hurries away before he can give in to the urge to grab a spare picnic blanket out of the shed and drape it on the man’s shoulders.

-That man is dangerous. He is broken and mad and feral and good at hiding all those things which makes him even more dangerous than he otherwise would be. Angeal cannot (will not) get attached. Not again. He won’t fall into that trap. He isn’t a good friend for anyone, let alone a good moral compass or shoulder to cry on. He’ll just make things worse. He knows that.

-Yet somehow that doesn’t stop him from packing a thermos of soup whenever it starts to lightly rain, and passing out cups of it when the Princess and the Chancellor inevitably wander into his corner of the gardens.

-(And maybe, weeks later, Ardyn Izunia corners Angeal where the Princess cannot see and stares at him for a long time. Maybe Izunia’s face shifts and pales as black blood weeps from his eyes and mouth until he looks not like a man but like a ghoul from a nightmare. Maybe he smiles like a predator looking for a kill and asks “Theseus” if he is frightened. If he is horrified.)

-(Maybe Ardyn is left stunned when the simple gardener looks him in the eye and with painful, gentle honesty says no.)

-(”Why not? I am a monster. You should be afraid.” Ardyn growls, his Scourge on display, his monstrous nature bared for this strange, mild-mannered man to see. And he is stunned when the gardener gently touches his pale, purple-veined hands and guides him down to a familiar plastic chair, as he disappears into the shed and comes back with a familiar thermos of soup and presses the cup into his hands.)

-(He is left speechless when this gardener, this human, this mortal, foolish man, finally answers his question, “This,” the gardener taps one of Ardyn’s deathly pale hands, “doesn’t make you any more or less human, or more or less a monster than me.”)

-(“Then what does?” Ardyn asks in a whisper, not sure if he is curious or insulted or ... desperate.)

-(The gardener just smiles, and in the expression there is something unnervingly old and sad and knowing for someone who has not lived two thousand years and not seen his own humanity crumble before his eyes, “You’re a smart man, Chancellor” he hums, “you tell me.”)

-(And Ardyn finds that he is, once again, speechless.)

#SE asks #dreamer-under-the-moon asks #Secret Engima Rambles #Clouds and Moonlit Skies verse #long post #i have many feelings about angeal in this verse apparently

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kingofthehilltoday · 3 years

Text

King of the hill review s1e1 "Pilot"

(I'm gonna start watching koth and typing these out season by season, depending on my work schedule/metnal healt will depend on how often I put them out, with the occasional single episode ones like this one which I've already typed up so much for. A lot of people seemed to like just the Meer idea of this so im gonna finish this one and post it)

We're introduced to the main characters surrounding a truck with the hood up. The first lines of dialogue they have in the series is their iconique "yep" "yep" "yep" "mhm" followed by a short silence (aside from the alcohol consumption).

Bill is the one to break the silence and demonstrates his understanding of automobile engines.

He is followed by Dale who demonstrates himself as an idiot. "Ford stands for: Fix It Again Tony."

Boomhauer, who without subtitles i wouldn't have been able to understand, also demonstrates he understands automobiles.

Hank who does not have the courtesy of subtitles does not understand what Boomhauer says and brushes him off and instead dribbles on about George Bush in Japan? This establishes his conservativeness/dumbness (if there's that much of a difference between the two.)

Hank grabs more beer and Dale breaks off into asking about a new episode of Seinfeld dating the beginning of the show.

Boomhauer immediately starts squaking about it.

This episode of Koth aired January 12 1997, although it doesn't seem to take place in a winter month. Most likely a spring one. I want to say the episode that Boomhauer is talking about is The Wig Master (April 4, 1996) as it is an episode that features Kramer and Kramer is the subject of Boomhauers tangent.

Boomhauer ends his giggling with "Just a show about nothin." And the theme song begins to play. A good introduction into what King of the Hill is about, and so far a great way to start the show off.

Theme song ends and Hank enters Bobby's room, despite Bobby telling him he wouldn't like it Hank decides to listen to Bobby's music to find: he doesn't like it. Admittedly because it isn't music (which Hank claims to like new generation music) but because instead it's just a fart? Bobby for some reason just listens to farts.... I guess this does establish that the boy ain't right....

Hank leaves Bobby's room telling him to get ready for the game, which Bobby is clearly already dressed for?

Luanne shows she hasn't learned how to lock the bathroom door when Hank busts in to a fully toweled Luanne. He still avoids looking at her the entire time after the initial door opening. Luanne gives slight exposition by explaining her parents are currently fighting, giving her a reason to be in the Hill House.

Hank, Bobby, and Peggy pile into a car and head to the game. Peggy tells Bobby to do his best and Hank insists he should give it 110% instead of 100%. They then keep suggest 1% higher until Peggy says 13 is an unlucky number. The driving scene ends with Hank miffed saying "just give it 112%."

At the game Bobby shows his inability to play baseball and Hank shows how overzealous he is about getting Bobby to play. Bobby gets hit with a ball when he's not paying attention giving set up for future events within the episode.

Hank Hill stops at the Mega Lo Mart for WD-40. Its not that important that I mention the WD-40. I just like the way he says Dubya Dee Fordy.

Two gossips see Hank interact with Buckley (who doesn't seem to recognize Hank, let alone where he even is in the store) along with Bobby who has a black eye following close behind him.

As Hank gets more and more frustrated with Buckley, Bobby begins swinging a cardboard tube around like a baseball bat. The gossips see Hank with his temper and wonder if he gave Bobby the black eye (theyre voiced by Nancy and Peggy without changing the voices even a little bit). Bobby swings the bat a little too close to some cans and knocks them over prompting Hank to scream YOU'RE FIRED (???? who gave Hank the authority???) at Buckley when he tells Hank that he'll have to pay for the damages.

The two gossips' words spread around and eventually get to the erroneously named Arlen County Child Protective Services (I suppose Heimlich County hasn't been established yet). And we're introduced to Anthony Page whos proportions make him look like he's in the wrong cartoon.

We cut back to hank and friends and Dale goes on his rant about Glo-Bal warming. He says we'll grow oranges in Alaska. Hank calls him a giblet head and tells Dale he'll hold him personally responsible if Texas gets any hotter in the summer. His anger is further pushed by a thumping noise.

Which we see is Bobby playing ball in the house while watching TV. He accidentally smacks his mother in the face with it when she pauses to lament about a man on TV who had botched surgery.

Bobby is once again throwing the ball in the house, enter the social worker, and Hank fixing his truck. The sound distracts Dale from pointing the flashlight correctly which then causes Hank to screw up and the hood of his car to fall on him and Dale runs off instead.

"Hank is as gentle as a lamb," says Peggy followed by Hank barging in, grabbing the baseball and throwing it screaming, "STOP BOUNCING THAT BALL!" Note: the ball zoomed past Mr. Page and into the street making a glass shattering noise. What glass he could have shattered at that angle I'm not quite sure of.

After Tony insinuates the bruise on Peggy's head was caused by the same ball they told him hit Bobby in the eye, he asks if Bobby is their only child. Peggy manages to tell this random dude about Hank's narrow urethra and Hank gets loud.

Our Italian alien looking friend tells Hank "Loud is not Allowed." This sets Hank off on a rant about how he works for a living as opposed to writing down nonsense. This is the first mention of Hank's job selling Propane and Propane Accessories.

Hank's face turns visibly red as talks about his tax dollars going to fund... CPS? I understand that twig boy is very much not doing any actual investigation and is completely biased but... come on now Hank? Chuld protective services?? Anyways Hank asks for some B.C. Headache Powder and a glass of water. He then proceeds to yell at Anthony again and threatens him to get out before he gives HIM a black eye. Not the best choice of words there Hank. Also both of these rants are set to the National Anthem for some reason.

Our self proclaimed hero of this story then goes on to interview neighbors about Hank. Starting with Dale who is interrupted by Nancy leaving to get a headache treatment from John Redcorn. "You've been going to that healer for 12 years and you still get headaches every night." Imagine getting dicked down roughly 4380 days in a row.

After Nancy leaves it goes back to our city slicker asking if Hank has ever hit his child which Dale explains that Bobby is his pride and joy because of his Narrow Urethra. Very interesting world where Dale knows Hank has a narrow urethra but not that his own wife is cheating on him. Joseph is introduced and the paper white boy does a double take as he's the spitting image of John Redcorn.

Boomhauer has mistaken the defunct social worker as??? Someone whos there to do something about a barking dog? Once again if not for the subtitles I'd be lost on what he's saying but what the hell is he talking about. Our pencil pusher backs away slowly.

Bobby and Joseph are trying to get pebbles into the exhaust of the truck in the next scene, impressively they make a few shots. Joseph asks to reassure that Hank does not in fact hit him and Bobby confirms that Hank is all Bark and proceeds to mock the propane salesman. Joseph proceeds to try and while he's making fake threats in Hank's voice our Valiant Savior overhears and somehow mistakes his voice to actually be Hank's....

Cut to the actual Hank and he's found Luanne's panties. They're very cute pink ones. Peggy calls Luanne in to Hank's protests and she comes in crying and expositions about her mother attempting to stab her father with a fork then being sent to jail. She says her trailer was tipped over but does not elaborate as to how. Although she does say it will be on a TV show! Kind of wish theyd make an episode out of that alone.

Hank assures Luanne as best he can and lets her know she can stay with them until her mom comes home. Hank offers to let her use power tools to style a wig that was also damaged in the process of the trailer being flipped over. This immediately calms Ms. Platter.

A doorbell is heard and the Hills (minus Luanne) answer the door to find Our Holy King making his return to try to get our Poor Abused Child to come outside and go live with a family in North Arlen (not even gonna try to find somewhere in a different town??) Hank tries to offer him Luanne instead. The social worker makes an effort to try to get Bobby to come with him but Bobby clearly doesn't care or want to go. Hank chases him away and even hits his car, Ladybird making her first appearance running with him and barking at Anthony.

Mr. Page is confronted by his boss about not having found any actual abuse but recommending state custody. He called the entire neighborhood redneck city to a man with a strong country accent, bruh. The boss asks him if he talked to the little league coach, WHICH THE BOSS KNOWS BY NAME (Harvey) and our Los Angeles boy is sweatin fierce.

Cut back to Hank and Peggy with their ears covered they come outside to BOBBY WITH A STOP SIGN HE CUT DOWN USING A DRILL THAT HE'S HITTING WITH A HAMMER??? How did he get a Fucking Stop Sign??? Hank immediately yells at Bobby about this and Bobby calmly states back that Hank can't yell at him or the state will take him away. This frustrates Hank but he does his best not to outburst again after Bobby picks up the stop sign and runs away dragging it behind him.

Once inside the house Bobby answers a call from CPS, they inform him the case has been dropped and our boy from L.A. will be heading back home. He chooses not to tell his parents instead opting to tell them it was a wrong number. After this scene the stop sign is never seen again 😔.

Hank apparently makes bacon and mayo sandwiches. Hold the bacon grease. No wait he adds the bacon grease back. Luanne comes into the kitchen and demonstrates that she knows more about cars than any of the guys as she has fixed his truck's problem: a clogged fuel line.

We cut to Hank outside the garage asking Bobby to plug in a power tool in the garage, Robert (with Joseph in tow) agrees and does so but also grabs the opener and starts opening and closing the door on his father. Hank begins to yell again and Bobby reminds him that it isn't proper adult-child conversation. Hank settles down a bit and through gritted teeth asks Bobby to return it to factory setting of down and walks away. Joseph is very pleased by this.

We then see a montage of similar things happening in succession. Bobby knocking a fence down with a bat, dressing ladybird up and taking pics of her on his mower, and finally spraying Hank with a hose. As he does this the Anthony's ex boss comes over and knocks on the door.

We cut over to Bobby in his bed making sound effects. He is informed by Peggy that the man came over and told them the investigation was off. Bobby says he likes his father better this way he can "make him love me even when I screw up" and Peggy asks if he really thinks that.

Peggy is shown going into the bedroom (not really sure if this is their bedroom... there is a picture of cotton on the wall [pre shin loss] and it doesn't look like their bedroom in future episodes) and she insists Hank vocally tell Bobby that he loves him. Hank explains that he can't do that "you know how I was raised" followed by a flashback of a young Hank and a shinless Cotton telling Hank not to cry about his knee scrape.

Hank heads out to the porch to talk to Bobby who is sitting on lawn furniture. And Hank stumbles over words trying to explain to Bobby that he cares for him. Bobby doesn't understand and Hank makes some weird voice cracking sound. "You.... family." Hank then, after little bit more stumbling, manages to blurt out "ILoveYouNoMatterWhatYouDo." And then offers food.

Bobby asks if he's not a disappointment and Hank assures him that he's proud of him and cares for him. He then play fights with Bobby and the city boy sees it and proclaims he was right but is cut off by another passenger and says "never mind." And the episode fades to black. Cue theme song.

The quoted line at the end of the episode is blank. This episode predates that tradition apparently.

Okay so now for some more of my own thoughts

I joked around a lot but I do see where the social worker is coming from on some level. He believed he was investigating a case of abuse. He just wasn't very smart about it. He really should have talked to the coach immediately after hearing about the baseball incident. Or literally anyone that could have been at the game that day. That's all it would have taken and he would have still have had a job. But it's a good thing he doesn't anymore because his own negligence could have separated a family.

I won't claim they're the most functional family. But if the most Hank does (up until this point, not gonna count that awful smoking ep just yet) is simply yell at Bobby then they're a much better family than I had growing up. Does Hank need to work on his anger issues? From this episode alone I'd say a solid Yes. He was a dick to a store employee which is very much not a cool thing to do. There was some justification in being angry at Bobby, I mean the kid tortured him at the end there, but he should have sought a better release than the one he had.

Overall I'd say this is a really good episode to start the series on, it's entertaining and funny and properly builds up the world.

#king of the hill #koth #hank hill #dale gribble #bill dauterive #luanne platter #peggy hill #bobby hill #long post

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fairymadnessyeah · 4 years

Text

Piss Off your Parents

Shigadabi week day 5

AO3 Link

Summary: Tenko is tired of being treated like a kid. He knows that his dad is worried, but he is an adult and it's time his old man understands that. Luckily, he has a hot new boyfriend who is more than willing to help him.

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Civilian / Steampunk / Teamwork

"YOU GOT TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME!" Tenko cried as a moving company placed his furniture on the UA teacher's dormitory.

Tenko had always been an unlucky bastard. He was born with a destructive quirk that made him dangerous to others and valuable to villains. Or, more specifically, one villain. All for One. The man wanted to grab hold of him since he was a child and had his first accident with his quirk. He had luckily been found by a hero instead of the super-villain though. Loud Cloud, or Shirakumo Oboro had come across the scared, skinny, bloodied child and helped him out. The two, along with his friends Aizawa Shota and Yamada Hizashi, had learned that he was the grandson of Nana Shimura, the mentor of All Might.

Suddenly, he had gone from murdering his family to being adopted by the cloud hero and gaining three hero uncles and one hero aunt. His life had gone from nightmare to dream-come-true in a matter of seconds. And after years of taking care of him and being the best possible dad he could have asked for, the man who saved him was stabbing him in the back.

"Tenko, this is only temporary," the cloud haired man says trying to calm him down. "You only have to stay here for a few months, until it's safe for you to live alone again," the hero teacher explains.

"I have my own life now, dad. I have art classes and friends and a life outside of UA, unlike you," Tenko hadn't followed on his new family's career. He didn't want to be a hero. After everything he had gone through, he just wanted a simple life. And he almost suceeded.

He might have gone to UA, but only because his father and uncles worked there and he went to General Studies. Once he graduated, he got a scholarship for an Art course of studies in a good university, he sold commission pieces of his drawings on patron and got his own apartment. It was not the luxury and excitement of a pro-hero, but he was happy. He had a great neighbour, Twice, who introduced him to his gang of misfits and outcast where he fitted perfectly.

There was Giran, Twice's boyfriend, who ran a Personal Manager office. Magne, one of the girls who worked there. Toga, an upcoming idol who the office represented. Spinner, a friend of Toga's. Mustard, Giran's intern. And Dabi, another one of the represented clients of their office and his boyfriend.

How had he gotten that? Don't ask him. One day, Jin was introducing the two to each other, and the next Dabi was taking him out on dates. Tenko had never had a boyfriend before, and his relationship with Dabi was rather new, so he hadn't told his dad yet. For the most part, he didn't want to freak him out. Oboro had grown very protective of him with having a crazy super-powerful villain going after him. But with how things were going, he was starting to not care that much about it.

"It's already been decided, Tenko," Oboro sighs. "You have to stay here..." Oboro tried to place a hand on his hair, but he quickly moved away and stomped inside.

"Fuck you!" he cried at his dad first. "And fuck all of you too!" and he continued with the rest of the faculty members hanging around in the Common room before heading upstairs to what will be his new place.

If he was honest, he didn't care much about living for a few months in UA. He loved his dad and his uncles and didn't really mind spending more time with them. But they couldn't keep treating him like a child. They couldn't take such a big decision for him believing that they knew better. He was an adult now. They had to talk things over with him and understand that he could make his own responsible choices. Usually Shouta, Hizashi and Yagi would have his back, but with their paternal instincts turned on again with the arrival of Midoriya and Eri, there was no such luck.

He stomped all the way to his room and once inside, flopped face down on his couch. Unlike the students dormitories, UA faculty members had bigger quarters. Instead of a one-bedroom, they had a private bathroom, a separate bedroom and a main lounge area. It was better than his apartment, but the fact that it had been his and this wasn't, made the entire thing pale in comparison to his eyes. But maybe it was just his anger. He was still pissed at his father, and it frustrated him that screaming at him wouldn't help the situation. He wanted to get back at him somehow, teach him a lesson. But how?

His answer came in the form of text message. His phone pinged in his pocket, and when he checked who it was, he couldn't help but smile.

Dumbass <3

Why are ppl taking stuff out of your home?

Are you moving out?

Dad is worried and made me move with him

Well, Fuck

And I had a plan to surprise you with cooking and a nerdy movie...

Guess we'll have to wait

Don't cry, babe

We can sneak you out.

I am an expert, after all

An expert?

What? Did you sneak out of your house late at night to go to some concert or some shit?

Like the rebel that you are?

Hell yeah,

I'm the disappointment your parents don't want you near

That's right...

You are a disappointment

Okay... Rude

Do you still want to help me with my body-art project?

Sure

Are you free tomorrow? It might take a while

I thought you were going to paint over me and take some pictures.

How long can that take?

A lot

We might get distracted~

And I want to reward you after such a long day of work~

...

I have a clear schedule on Friday.

Good

It's a date!

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"What the..."

School had just finished, and the teachers were just returning to their dormitory. Thought the sight that welcomed them wasn't one they were expecting.

It had been a couple of days since Tenko had moved in with them. The rest of the staff didn't see a problem with it. They knew the kid, and he was a polite and responsible young man. That morning, for example, he had asked all of them if he could use the Common room of the dorm for one of his art projects and if they were alright with somebody else coming too (Apparently he needed help with the project). It was a good change, though. Lately, the art student had been in a foul mood, ever since he moved. But that morning, it had been as if he was a whole other person. Oboro had been glad his son's mood had improved. He thought once he could focus on his art, it would happen. Boy, was he wrong...

When the teachers entered their new shared home, Tenko was there with a plastic rug covering the floor, some paintbrushes scattered around and kneeling in front of a half-naked person. It was definitely not what they expected.

"Oh, hey," the nudist greets them with a nod.

The sound makes the man kneeling turn around, revealing the other was not fully naked, but wearing underwear thank god and Tenko was painting near his crotch area. Aizawa, who was holding Eri and covering her eyes, and the rest of the teachers, let out a relieved sigh, except Oboro. He is still staring in disbelief and surprise, not understanding what is going on. Why is his son with this stripper stranger? Why was he so close to him?

"Sorry about the mess, I didn't know this would take so long," Tenko apologises as he goes back to painting on his live canvas.

Said canvas was a tall red-haired man with blue eyes who couldn't have been a few years older than Tenko. The guy had painted on patches of black ashy paint on half of his face, his neck, arms and shoulders. He probably had more on his back and legs, but the teachers couldn't see that. His front was left bare, but Tenko was making a weird patterns that were rising through his abdomen and chest, leading to a giant rainbow heart in his left pectoral.

"What type of classes are you taking?" Yamada asks.

"This is for my Alternative Art and Style class," Tenko explains. "Now, could you not bother me? It's a delicate process, and I don't want to start over again. Pretend we are not here," he calls them off.

The teachers do, and so he continues. Once he finishes with the chest, he takes a weird tool with a round end and dips it in water. He gently starts to trace patterns on one of the black patches, revealing a multitude of colours behind it. It's rather magical, seeing the colour come to life on the other's skin. Eri, who had become too curious and escaped Aizawa's censoring, even asks if she could try. Tenko lets her, and she does a small heart in the behind the redhead's ear.

An hour later, Tenko is done, and he and the live canvas start to take pictures of his work. The teachers are not paying it too much attention now, letting the student finish in peace as they grade papers, sometimes glancing back at them from the corner of their eye. All of them but one, who was too busy glaring daggers at the canvas. Oboro can't help but notice the weird tension between his son and the naked man. There's something in the way their gazes cross, and their touches linger that is making him mad. He used to be able to read his son like an open book. There weren't any secrets between them. But now, he is not so sure.

After a few shots with the guy spread-eagle against one of the white walls, the two left towards another room to take more pictures. Oboro fought against all his instincts telling him to stop them, to go with them, to not leave them alone for a second, and stayed with the rest of his co-workers and friends. He didn't know why, but he felt as if he had let his son walk straight to hell.

"Finally," Snipe sighs relieved once the two younger adults leave.

"Yeah, Shirakumo-san, you didn't tell us your son had a boyfriend-," Thirteen comments.

"He doesn't!" the delusional man interrupts. "That guy is not- he isn't- Tenko would tell me if he had a boyfriend, alright!?" he tries to convince them or himself, he isn't sure at this point. Shota hums by his side, in that ' I agree, but we both know you are wrong' tone.

"Honey, the only reason why they didn't jump each other is because we were there," Nemuri goes straight for the punch, covering Eri's ears and giving him a little wink.

"No! No, no. NO." he splutters before going back to paperwork. Shota hums again.

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They don't see Tenko again until after dinner. They were cleaning the table when the young man came down wearing a new set of clothes. Instead of the dirty sweatpants and tank top he used for painting, he had a black pair of pants and a black hoodie that was too big for him. The neckline didn't cover one of his shoulders and the sleeves pooled in his wrists. The hoodie also had a fire design on the back with blue flames.

"Hey, you missed dinner," Oboro tells him as he dries while Yagi cleans. "There's some leftover the fridge, if you want them," he tells him.

"No need, there's still some pizza left from my lunch with Dabi," he says and starts taking out what he needs.

"Dabi?" Yagi asks. "That's the name of the model who wore your art today? He seemed familiar,"

"Yeah, he's a professional model, maybe you saw him in a billboard or something," Tenko explains and starts heading out of the kitchen.

"You might wanna take another shower, Ten, you still have paint on your neck," Oboro points out.

"That isn't paint, dad..." Tenko grins as he disappears upstairs.

CRASH

"Oboro-san! The plates!"

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Saturday morning at UA always started slow. The weight of the week was still present, and the usual energy was not there yet. The staff of UA began their day with a quiet morning and a cup of coffee. Not all of the teachers stayed though. Some returned to their homes for the weekend, like Hizashi and Shota with Eri. They would take turns to stay with the students during Saturdays' and Sundays'. This weekend, Oboro, Nemuri, Snipe and All Might stayed.

"Fucking married fools..." Snipe groans as he arrives at the Common room.

"What are you complaining about now?" Nemuri asks, confused as the rest of them also come down.

"Last Night, Yamada and Aizawa," he grunts and spreads on the couch. "I know that they are married and that they love each other, but can't they keep it down?" he moans tired, making everybody confused.

"What do you mean? They left yesterday with Eri, they didn't even spend the night here," Oboro tells the hero, voicing everybody confusion.

"But then who were the ones having sex yesterday in the room on top of mine?" Snipe asks baffled.

"Sorry about that," a low voice comes from the kitchen. The teachers all turn towards it and find the model from yesterday leaning against the kitchen door with two steaming cups of coffee one was Tenko's favourite one, Oboro noticed and no shirt.

"What- Why- What are you still doing here?" Oboro asks, fearing the answer.

"My baby was lonely, and he never says no to Daddy's attention," Dabi grins and walks back upstairs.

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"So, how long are you going to torture your dad?" Dabi asks his boyfriend, giving him the steaming cup in his new bed before he lays down next to him.

"For a while," Tenko hums and sips his sugar monstrosity he referred to as 'coffee'. "I'm guessing in a month, he'll finally get tired of it, learn his lesson," Dabi hums as he sips with him. "You don't have to follow along if you don't want to. I know what I'm doing is stupid," he says, lightly scratching his neck.

"Are you kidding me!? I love every second of it," Dabi chuckles. "How about on winter holidays you came to my family's home, and we do the same to my old man?" he suggests, a mischievous grin forming in his face.

"Are these going to be our dates from now on? Pissing off each other's parents?" Tenko rolls his eyes at his boyfriend's daddy issues.

"Hell, yeah. We are a team, aren't we? If you succeed, then so do I," he kisses him in the cheek, making the younger man's cheek turn pink. "Speaking of which, I need to leave more marks on you, babe," The brunette traces a path with his lips to the crook of his neck.

"Dabi..." the artist moans. Suddenly, the body besides him steps away from the bed, taking the heat with him. "No, don't leave..." he pouts and watches as his boyfriend rummages through his overnight bag. A second later, the taller male drops a dozen lipstick tubes on the bed and a box of make-up removing tissues on the bed. He then sits in the mattress again, in front of him, making the new objects bounce. "What are those for?"

"A game I know. Pick one," Tomura looks between the object and his boyfriend, trying to decipher what he was planning on doing. With a shaky gloved finger, he takes the tube nearest to him. Dabi takes it from him and spins it open, displaying a hot pink colour and applies it rapidly on his lips.

He is about to ask him something else, but he is interrupted by a pair of wet lips connecting with his. After his mouth, Dabi kisses his cheek then his jaw, his neck and collar bone before once again returning to his lips. He then separates from him once again and reaches for one the wipes, leaving Tomura panting. "Pick another one," he is instructed as the brunette takes off the pink lipstick. Without taking his eyes off Dabi, grabs another tube and hands it to him. The man on top opens the new one, a deep red, applies it and goes back to Tenko's lips. This time though, instead of continuing on his neck, the other dips down lower and tugs his shirt upwards. He starts to outline a straight line from his hip to his heart before returning to his lips again. "Another one and take that shirt off, I plan on making you a masterpiece," Dabi softly whispers in his ear before wiping off the make-up.

Colour after colour, Dabi stayed true to his word. His collar and neck ended up pink, his chest had three lines of kiss marks in red, purple and blue, his shoulders and wrists got green and yellow on his right and left and his crotch covered in black. He would start and end with his lips, making them swollen and full of colour. Dabi kissed him slowly and sensually everywhere, tearing him apart with every touch of his lips, smearing make-up all over his body. He felt his affection and care, leaving him breathless and dizzy. They didn't do anything overly sexual, his bottom was still sore from yesterday, though Dabi did blow him.

As the two laid next to each other after it, Tenko couldn't believe how happy the other made him. Dabi was his first relationship, and the man had been nothing if not patient with him. He let him set a pace he was comfortable with, teaching him the ropes and calming his anxiety whenever he got nervous. He even went along with his petty scheme. Tenko knew he was falling for the guy and it terrified him and thrilled him at the time. The fact that he could just be next to a person and be happy and content was new. He could stay in this bed forever, staring back into those blue eyes, and be in peace.

Suddenly, a phone rings in the background, interrupting the moment. Dabi huffs annoyed and picks up the phone on the nightstand. "What, Giran!?" he answers the call. "What? No, I'm busy. Can't you postpone it?" he says after a second. "Yeah, yeah, I know, I know. But I'm with Shirakumo right now," he moans and sighs once he gets an answer. "Alright, alright, I'm going. I'll see you there," he hangs up the phone and sighs again.

"You have work?" Tenko asks him.

"Yeah, the photoshoot for that new perfume brand, 'Angel's Tears', got moved to today. They want to release the product earlier, to win against a rival brand," he explains annoyed. "I don't wanna leave..." he moans and hides his face in the crook of his neck.

"You can come back later, I don't want you to miss work," he tells him, stroking the model's naked back. Dabi groans in protest and cuddles closer, hanging on to hin tighter. "Come on, you lazy bum, get up," he tells him and tries to get out of his hold.

It takes him a minute, but he is able to get out of bed and go into the bathroom. When he is in there, he gets to look at the end piece of Dabi's game. His body is a battlefield of lip marks of different colours in a chaotic yet very eye-catching way. He had a lot of issues like a LOT of issues and his dislike for his body was one of them. But looking at himself like this? With the clear evidence that someone loved his frail, pale form, it made his stomach flutter. Taking advantage of his new-found confidence, he goes for his phone and takes a picture in the mirror. As the camera goes off, Dabi appears behind him, placing his arms in his stomach and his chin in his shoulder. He takes another one.

"I told you I would make you a Masterpiece," he whispers in his ear and then kisses it.

The two try to get presentable, or at least Tenko does, covering the lipstick with clothes. The make-up is dry now, so the wipes don't take much of it off. He might need to take a shower once Dabi leaves. Once the two are ready, they go to the gate hand in hand to wait for Giran. The manager is going to drive the model there, since he doesn't have a car.

They depart with a kiss and a promise to call the other once they're free again.

Once he is gone, he makes his way back to the small dormitory-apartment, where he sees his dad sitting in one of the couch with his face in his hands. Yagi by his side, was trying to comfort him. He ignored them, but he can feel their eyes in his back and neck. Especially on the make-up he yet had to remove. He is feeling a little bad for his dad. He knows it's very pitiful what he is doing. But he guessed for now he learned his lesson. He could back down a little and attack once he went back to his habits. He was prepared if that happened. Unlike his dad, whose strategy was unplanned and sprung in the moment, he had a hot-blooded boyfriend he could use as very effective ammo.

He took a shower when he got to his room, which took him while. The lipstick was a pain to scrub off, and it made him question how worth it would be to do it. But then he remembers how good it was to be kissed stupid by his boyfriend and how he would love to do the same to him, and thinks that maybe it's worth the mess. He steps out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist but stops in his tracks.

"Dad!? What are you doing with my phone!?" he yells when he sees his dad there, messing with his phone.

'Quick, Oboro, act stupid!'

"...what's a phone?" the older man utters. 'Not that stupid!'

Tenko feels like he's about to explode with anger. Screw going on the defensive! Screw his dad and his overprotective nurture! Screw being treated like a child or an innocent teenager! This meant war and his dad was going to relive hell on earth!

Tenko takes a deep breath to calm down first. He isn't wearing his gloves right now, and while his control is pretty good, he doesn't want to accidentally decay his phone or his possessions in a fit of anger. Or worse, his dad.

"I'm going to change, and then you are going to apologise for disrespecting my privacy," he tells him in his meanest and darkest tone. "Also, if I were you, I wouldn't open the camera roll," he warns as he enters his bedroom.

The scream he hears once the door is close is strangely satisfying.

#shigadabiweek2020 #shigadabi #dabishiga #shigaraki x dabi #shigaraki tomura #Dabi #bnha #mha #au

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letarasstuff · 4 years

Text

I like it

A/N: Ok ok, this is like my first Poe Fic (and Star Wars tho) ever, so please don’t be mean to me :c Also, English isn’t my first language

Summary: After having your whole family slaughtered by the First Order, Poe takes you in. Suddenly the base gets attacked by them, when he is not there. How will he react?

Warnings: Language, mentions of death, anxiety, panic attack and bad grammar

father figure!Poe Dameron x Teen!Reader

On your homeplanet there weren't many options to make money. You are either good with mechanics and motors or you look good enough, that the greasy men like you. As one can say, you were lucky.

Your parents owned a workshop. This isn't anything unusual, given the fact there is one at every corner in the bigger cities. But yours was the best. You don't wanna sound cocky, it's just the truth.

So your mother and father taught you the inside of every thing, that has a motor. Before you were even able to form a proper sentence, you could repair any ship on the planet. Still you had a nice childhood, playing with the kids in the neighborhood, going to school and learning new stuff. You are happy to say, that your parents did a damn good job at giving you the best memories a kid can ever have.

But anything good comes to an end, so does this. You were 14 years old, when the First Order came down to your homeplanet. Even though your leaders weren't that nice people, they still refused to be in an alliance with them. Initially they wanted to stay neutral in the war, but as soon as they declined the offer, they tried to get into contact with the Resistance.

Unfortunately, they were too late. When they got their pilots on your ground, nearly everything was burnt down. They swarmed out to look after survivors. Even though they did their best, they couldn't find anyone, who has a beating heart. The sight was heartbreaking. This once living planet was now the aftermath of the First Order's wrath.

The pilots gave up eventually. Nobody agreed to it, but they didn't have many options. The last one to leave the planet was a man, who is known as the golden boy of the Resistance. Poe Dameron. Especially to him it was unacceptable to leave this planet with bare hands.

So he started a last desperate attempt and looked into one of the most destroyed buildings. He shoved a bit of rubble to the side, when he saw a leg. Hope began to rise inside of him. Quickly he put another rather big piece of rubbish to the side to expose a face. It was a young kid, their eyes are closed.

Poe rushed to their side and checked the wrist for a pulse. The sigh he let out, when he felt a light one, has to be the loudest the galaxy ever witnessed. Happy to be the messenger of good news, the pilot told his squadron about his found. All of them cheered, it was kind of a miracle for them.

Now they have to act fast. Poe picked the kid up and rushed them to his own ship. He knew, that a team of nurses would take too long to get to the both of them. So he put them on a seat and secured them with the belt. He was quick to make his way back to base. He told the ground team about the only survivor and let them prepare a team of doctors and nurses to help the kid.

Luckily the kid made it. Just a few broken ribs, a concussion and a few bruises were what they got as a punishment for their leader's decision.

You are a lucky kid.

You spent a few days unconscious in the medical wing, before you woke up to a steady beeping. To be honest, this noise really got on your nerves. So you opened your eyes to be met by blinding lights. After shutting and re-opening them you got used to it. Then you had the time to take your surroundings in. There were a some machines, that monitor your vitals. Seemed like you were still alive. But why were you here?

Out of all sudden it hit you. The First Order attacked your homeplanet. Your parents, who tried to bring you into safety. Then another missile hit the building and everything goes black. What happened to them? What about all your friends, neighbors? Where were you?

Your breath began to quicken. The beeping got faster. This added to your panic and made you more and more frantic. Your throat tightened as did your chest. Everything seemed to break over you and you don't know what to do.

Then you feel another presence. The person put their hands on your shoulders and spoke in a calm and warm voice:"Hey, hey. Breath, ok? Just take a long breath in, hold it and let it out slowly. Try to feel the way it enters your body and leaves it again. We can get through it, but you have to work with me here, buddy."

You do as the someone told you and mimicked their breathing as they showed you the exercise. Your breathing steadied again as did the beeping. Finally you were able to face them. The person, who talked you through your mini panic attack, has dark brown locks and brown eyes. There were also the shadow of a beard on his jaw.

"Better?", he asked you and gave you a glass of water. After savouring every last drop of it, you answered:"Yes, thank you..?" "Poe, Poe Dameron. The Resistance's best pilot." Well, this is an introduction only he can do.

"Then hello Mr Dameron. I'm (Y/N), the best mechanic my age you can find in the whole galaxy." Actually, you were never the person to be cocky around strangers, but with this Poe guy it felt right at an instance.

"Hello (Y/N), just call me Poe and if you want to address me by my last name, do it right. It's Commander Dameron." "Thank you for this information. Where are my parents though? Why are you here, not them? Also no offence, but it seems pretty weird to wait for a random teenager to wake up."

The first answer were a sigh. He explained the whole situation to you, even though he didn't want to be the one to bring the bad news. Your only reaction was crying. You felt so many things at once and this was your only way to let it out.

While holding your crying form, Poe promised himself to take care of you from now on. He partly did it, because he felt like it was his fault, that your family was dead. If he was there earlier, he could have saved them. But the other part was you. Even though he only knew you for a few minutes, he felt a connection. Now it's upon him to protect you.

And he does keep his promise until the very day. The both of you share a room, you and BB-8 get super good along, he helps you to make yourself a name as the best mechanic the Resistance has to offer. Hell, he even teaches you how to fly an X-Wing. To say he is impressed by the skill you already have is an understatement. But neither he nor Leia allow you to tag along missions until you old enough. This also counts for training and wearing a blaster.

One time you ask Poe which age this should be. He answers with:”It’s the same age you are allowed to kiss somebody.” It is this moment, when you realize, that you will never be old enough.

It is another rather calm day on the base, which is quite suspicious. The First Order hasn't pulled any stunts recently. Still everybody has something to do, except for the majority of pilots. There aren't many missions for them now, That's why Poe sits next to you, while you repair an astromech. "And then I saved the whole galaxy", ends the older man yet another of his heroic stories. "Again", you add with an eye roll. He nudges your shoulder with his own and exclaimes: "Well, somebody has to do it!" Laughing you tighten another screw and knock gently on the astromech's head.

"Now you are all done, buddy. But be more careful next time while playing with the others tag, ok?", you speak softly to BB-031. Happily she nods and drives off to her pilot. You turn back to Poe. "When do you have to leave?" "Not in another two hours, that means we can grab lunch together. It's just an abandoned outpost with new activities. I don't even think that this has something to do with the First Order", he reassures you.

You sigh. "I know, but still. So many things can go wrong and I don't wanna be alone again." The both of you walk towards the mess hall. The brown haired man throws an arm around your shoulder. "We are soldiers, as sad as it may sound, it's the truth. We have to keep in our mind that death is always right beside our side. But as long as you are on this base, you will never be alone. Leia is going to take care of you. Always."

You look up to him and smile, a warm and fuzzy feeling bubbling inside of you. The last time you felt like this was with your parents at home.

Before he boards his X-Wing, Poe gives you a last hug and says:"Be good for Leia, ok buddy?" "This sounds like I am four!" "Well, when I think about it, you are like a four year old!", he jokes. With a pout you punch his arm. "Good luck out there and come back in one piece or else I hunt your dead ass down!"

When the Black Squadron left the hangar, you turn back to your own work and get totally engrossed into it. It's just you, your tools and the project infront of you.

That is until a blaring alarm sounds over the speakers. Confused you look up, only to see everyone in the hangar running around like chickens in panic. People throw stuff into bags, others finish their work up hastily and the remaining just run out. And you don't have a kriffing clue what's happening.

You try to stop one of the other mechanics. But to no avail. Nobody wants to explain the situation to you. But then you see the reason for all the commotion:

Outside at the sky are countless TIE-Fighters and it won't take long until the first one reaches the ground.

You begin to scramble and run, but get pushed into a cart with tools on it. With a loud yelp you land on it and get pocked and cut by wrenches and such. Again, nobody pays attention at you. The own safety is the only present thing at the moment.

When you hear the TIE touches the ground, you get up as quickly as possible. Even though your legs hurt from the fall, you run like your life depends on it. And it does.

The hangar is deserted. No pilots, no mechanics, no one is there. Expect for you. You can hear the stormtrooper enter the building, while you dash for the gateaway. Their steps are getting closer and closer. It doesn't take long for the enemies to spot you. Sooner as you want, you have to dodge shots from behind. But this isn't your only problem.

As a kind of safety guard the gateaway closes. You run faster than you ever did before. A quick look behind you tells you, that there is a stormtrooper too close for your liking. So you reach into your utility belt and throw the first thing you can grasp at him. Turns out it's one of your favorite wrenches, but it's not the time to mourn the loss. Saving your own life is way more important right now.

When you are close enough at the gate, you throw yourself on the floor and slide under it before is closes completely. But there is no time to catch your breath. You make your way through what feels like the whole base to get to the safety ships.

When you finally reach them, there's only one left. Leia stands at the entrance, looking for someone. As soon as her eyes set on your form, she seems relieved. The General grabs you by your arm and drag you inside the ship. Once you left the base, she pulls you into a hug while scolding you: "Never ever scare me like this again, (Y/N)!"

The Black Squadron is already on the new base. The news of the attack were spread fast to them, so they were quick to react. After your ship's landing the hatch opens. You emerge out of it into a crowd of nervous, scared and clamouring people. But there is one voice shouting, that stands out.

"Where is my kid? Where are they? Has anyone seen my kid? (Y/N)?!"

It's Poe, who is looking for you. You try to make the direction out from where he shouts. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you see his dark locks. You push your way over to him and so does he, when he catches a glimpse of you. As soon as he is able to he pulls you in for a hug.

Poe strokes through your hair and makes it a mess, but you can't care less. "I was so scared, that I lost you, kiddo." "I'm fine. I'm fine", you assures him. "I don't care, let us get you to the medical wing, kid." "Ok, Dad."

"Did you just call me Dad?"

"Yes, I did."

"Well, I like that. Love you, kid."

"Love you, too, Dad."

#star wars #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron #father figure!poe dameron x reader #father figure! poe dameron x teen!reader #x reader #x teen!reader #poe dameron x teen!reader #fanfic #fanfiction #please be nice c:#i'm a small bean c:

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themattgirl · 4 years

Note

Hi Jasmine💖 I really like your writing you're amazing 💖💖 Sooo can you write sth where Y/N has asthma and she had an attack infront of Harry for the first time and he comforts her and does some cute shit coz I have asthma and I always fantasize about this

Thank you so much, I’m glad you like it. I love you🥺💘 Sorry for this late reply, my cousin came over unexpectedly and is now sleeping next to me while I’m trying to write this for you in the best way possible. Let me know if you like it and feel free to send more requests.🦋

Breathless

“Why did you do it even though I told you not to? Why can’t you just listen to me, huh?” Y/N asks Harry angrily.

They are in the middle of their fifth fight of the week, and it’s only Wednesday. They’ve both been very caught up into work and haven’t spent much time with each other lately. The lack of communication caused a lot of drama in this house the past few days. Y/N and Harry used to talk about anything and everything, but since Y/N is in the middle of the exam season of her last semester in college and Harry is currently struggling with finishing up his album, it’s hard to find the time. It might be necessary to say how much of a perfectionist he is. Plus, it’s the first album since the band went on hiatus and he really wants this to work.

“I just thought you’d like to be her friend again. I thought you’d listen to what she has to say.” Harry tries to explain why he invited Y/N’s ex-best-friend - or the traitor - to her birthday party even though she made clear that she doesn’t want to see her ever again.

“Listen to what she has to say? Are you kidding? She’s already said enough, don’t you think?” Y/N’s voice becomes louder by every second in which Harry doesn’t get what he did wrong.

Y/N has been ignoring her old best friend for weeks now and she’s not planning on stopping it. She is way too disappointed. Who wouldn’t be if their so-called best friend spreads rumours around the whole campus about them giving free blowjobs even though they have a boyfriend? And that only because said boyfriend is Harry Styles and the traitor has been crushing on him ever since she’s heard about him. But hasn’t everyone? Everybody loves Harry and Y/N happens to be lucky enough to be the one he loves back. A real best friend would be happy for you, right?

“Baby, I’m sure she did it out of anger. She loves you and wants to be your friend again. Give her a chance.” Harry’s voice is still very calm which is only adding to Y/N’s fury because it means he’s convinced that he’s right and he’s not seeing his mistake.

“Stop fucking defending that bitch! I don’t care if she did it because she was angry or jealous or whatever. I’m not giving her a fucking chance or any shit. She can go to hell and if you think what she did is forgivable then you might as well stuff her mouth with your dick and join her.”

This is it. Harry realises how angry Y/N really is. She never swears. He has never heard a curse word leaving her mouth, nor anything like ‘dick’ - not even while they have sex. Only now he notices that her eyes are filled with hurt, her face turned red, her nostrils are flaring, fists clenched while she’s glaring at him. Her breathing is heavy.

“Okay, but is it really that bad? I mean, the unknown calls have stopped, right? And you’ll be out of college very soon, anyway. It’s not that big of a deal. And most importantly, we both know that the only person you’re giving head is me.”

He certainly will not have that privilege anymore after what he just said.

“I’m already on the edge, Harry. Don’t make me lose my shit completely. Why do you even care so much about it? Isn’t it my choice who I want to be friends with?”

“It is, but you don’t have any other friends.” He speaks the truth, “I just don’t want you to be all alone when I’m not around.”

Before Y/N can respond her phone starts ringing. She pulls it out of her back pocket and checks who itis. Unknown. Those calls haven’t actually stopped, Y/N just stopped telling Harry about them. She has to pick up, though. For some strange reason, her father always calls with a hidden ID. So she slides her finger from the left to the right on the display and holds her phone to her ear. Not greeting the person on the other side of the line she waits for someone to speak.

“Hey, uhm... I was told you give head for free. Is-“ Y/N cuts him off immediately with a simple “no” and takes a deep breath to collect herself even though breathing gets harder and harder.

“Oh, is this not Y/N?” The man asks confused.

“It is, but I don’t do that. Whoever told you that was lying. I have a boyfriend who I really love and would never cheat on. Tell everyone, thank you, bye!” Y/N clarifies and ends the phone call.

She doesn’t even have time to put it back in her pocket when it starts ringing again. Unknown, again.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she whispers to herself before picking up.

“I’m picking you up in half an hour, ‘key?” The voice on the other end asks.

Y/N hangs up on him without saying anything. It’s so overwhelming, all of this. To get it all in her head she explains the whole situation out loud, hoping it’ll make her know what to do about it.

“So, my best friend told everyone I give BJs for free because she’s jealous and now my phone won’t stop ringing. I’m the whore of the campus, no, I’m not even a whore, apparently I don’t do it for money. That’s my reputation now. And as if this isn’t enough, my boyfriend - the one that I’m accused of cheating on - decided to be on her side and against me. So basically, I’m fucked.” Y/N is looking down at her feet, she is quiet but loud enough for Harry to hear her. With every word her breathing becomes heavier.

What might be important to mention is that Y/N has asthma. Well, she had. It stopped being so bad a while ago and she could live her life without an attack for more than a year. What she didn’t tell Harry is that she started to be out of breath very quickly in the past two weeks. She tried to ignore it but taking deep breaths doesn’t seem to work this time. Her airways become too narrow for her to breathe properly. She starts coughing and wheezing. Since there is nothing beside her that she can sit down on she is forced to let herself down on the floor. Harry reacts immediately by crouching down in front of his girlfriend and straightening her back.

“Baby, look at me,” Harry places a finger under her chin to make her look up at him, “It’s gonna be okay, just breathe with me, yeah?”

He inhales deeply twice, waiting for her to follow his example but when she doesn’t he gets up, tells Y/N to wait and that he’ll be right back and runs into the bedroom to get her inhaler that he knows is always in the drawer next to the bed. He grabs it and rushes back. What he doesn’t know, though, is that this one is not full anymore. He has to find that out when he holds it on her mouth and presses the button on the top of it so she can breathe in what comes out. Only this time, nothing comes out. She’s been waking up at night, troubling with her breathing almost every night lately. Harry can’t help but freak out a little, but for the sake of Y/N he has to keep it together.

“Do you have another one?” he has to ask her twice because she doesn’t respond the first time but nods the second.

“Where?” he wants to know and receives a gesticulation as an answer. At first he doesn’t know what she means but when she repeats it he understands what she’s trying to say. He goes back to the bedroom and empties her bag on the bed until a blue little tool falls out. He tries to be as fast as he possibly can.

When he’s with her again he repeats his action from the first time, this time it works. Luckily, Harry knows exactly what to do. He had asthma as a kid himself.

He lets Y/N take a puff of the inhaler every thirty seconds, whispering little encouragements like “you’re doing good, baby, keep going” every now and again. By the 13th time she is back to breathing on her own.

“Are you all right, sweetheart?” he asks her and hesitates to put the inhaler down already. But Y/N nods and pulls him in for a hug.

“You did great, baby girl, I’m proud of you. You’re a strong woman, you know that? My strong woman,” he tells her while stroking her back and hair.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N apologises quietly and pulls away.

“What’re you apologising for? Don’t be silly, love. I’m sorry for stressing you out to the point where you couldn’t breathe anymore. I’m so stupid. Who the hell does that? I’m a shitty boyfriend, I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not. You just saved my life!”

Not wanting to argue with her right now he says “Okay” and pulls her into his arms again.

“You were right. You shouldn’t be her friend, she doesn’t deserve you. We’re gonna get you a new number and we’ll find a way to get those stupid rumours out of the world, I promise. Just don’t leave me, please!” Harry begs her to not make his worst fear reality.

“I’m not leaving you, what’re you talking about? I know you’re stupid sometimes but that’s not enough to make me even think of it. You’re stuck with me, whether you like it or not.” Y/N assures him.

“I most certainly do like it,” he smiles, “I really love you, Y/N!”

Before she can say it back the sound of a car honking interrupts her. Oh no, she thinks.

“Who’s that?” Harry asks when he notices the look on her face.

“A client,” she jokes and they both break into laughter.

“C’mon, let’s beat him up together, yeah?” Harry can’t help it but laugh when he sees how her face lights up at those words and she nods happily.

“Oh God, how I love you!” he gushes before he locks his lips with hers, feeling the butterflies in his stomach go crazy when she smiles into the kiss.

#fluff prompts #fluff writing #harry chats #harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles drabble #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles filth #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles request #harry styles imagines #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut

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ceescedasticity · 4 years

Text

@tanoraqui regarding your AU idea:

Have some disconnected fragments!:

Jiang Yanli was very seriously injured, and very genuinely distraught, and people treating her like something breakable was not in any way new.

It took far too long to realize what was happening.

She asked them to reduce the pain medication they were giving her ahead of Jiang Cheng's next visit, so she could have a more coherent conversation with him. If anything they increased it, and she only dimly remembered an explanation that he was taking Jin Ling to see Lotus Pier.

She asked for perhaps some different robes than stark unornamented white — she had been widowed for over a year, now, and A-Ling was getting old enough she wanted to look less like a ghost when he saw her again. No different robes appeared.

She asked what options there were to get around, if as it seemed she would, at best, be unable to walk for a very long time. She was planning to perhaps steer things in the direction of 'Lotus Pier doesn't have nearly as many stairs'. But they brushed off the questions completely.

She asked for writing supplies so she could send her brother a letter. None were forthcoming.

Finally Jin Guangyao came in, and bowed most respectfully, and knelt by her couch to speak to her.

"Sect Leader Jiang will be visiting Koi Tower again soon," he said.

"There are some things you should understand before he does."

She was "mad with grief". Everyone knew this.

If anyone came to not know this, Jin Guangyao very carefully did not exactly say, things might not go well for her. Or for Jin Ling.

And yes, of course Sect Leader Jiang would react badly if his nephew or his sister died under Jin Sect's watch. One might say he would react… imprudently.

"You look terribly pale, Madam Jin. I've overtaxed you. I'm so sorry, I'll call your maid and your doctor immediately."

Fragment 2:

At first she wasn't expecting working on her cultivation to do more than fill up a few of the endless, endless hours. What does she care anyway, now, if she feels dizzy or has a few heart palpitations? No one is around to worry for her except her watcher-maids. Maybe it would give Jin Guangyao a scare.

But that didn't happen.

No dizziness, no shakiness, none of the worse symptoms that made even Madam Yu stop pushing her. Meditation isn't frightening anymore. She can work with her spiritual energy until exhaustion with a clear head and a steady pulse. If this keeps up for years… It's late for her to form a functional golden core, very late, but it's not out of the question.

Maybe the injury… knocked something loose, somehow.

Or maybe she should have tried cultivation while reclining with her feet up years ago.

She doesn't know whether she wants to laugh or cry.

She does neither, but keeps cultivating, month after month, year after year, closing her eyes and pretending she's dozing.

She doesn't know where her sword is now, and she never did much with it anyway, but it turns out with enough practice you can send spiritual energy into an embroidery needle.

Fragment 3:

Her company, little as it is, falls in three categories.

The first and largest is Jin Guangyao and his creatures. Her doctors. (Not the first doctor, she thinks — not the one who saved her life despite all expectations — but that woman died not even a year after Jiang Yanli was recovered enough to take any notice of doctors. The four since then have been, although surely not the most valued of tools or he wouldn't dispose of them so freely.) Her 'maids'. (And how she wishes she could trust the people she's forced to rely on to help her to the toilet.) Su Minshan.

Then there are the risks, those Jin Guangyao is concerned about and demands her cooperation in deceiving, whose visits he always monitors — her brother, mainly, and her son as a source of information to her brother. Madam Jin, until she died.

(She doesn't know which category Jin Guangshan would have fallen into, because he never appeared. She's not sorry to not have encountered him while helpless, and it makes no difference in the end, but she would have liked to know whether Jin Guangyao started this at his father's behest.)

And there are the ones he dismisses. Not on his side, but not threats.

This does not include the servants, for which she must give Jin Guangyao credit. Many men — and more than a few women, among them her mother and Madam Jin — would have made that mistake. No, any servant who spends more than a minute in Jiang Yanli's presence is working for Jin Guangyao first. (There is more overturn in staff than there was in Lotus Pier, before. She isn't sure whether things are just different in Lanling or if Jin Guangyao is disposing of them.)

It does include Nie Huaisang.

He sent her a painted fan 'to brighten her rooms' late in the first year when word got around that she was confined by 'illness'. It was not the only pity-gift she'd received in that period, and at the time it hadn't annoyed her any less than the others, but after she calmed down she did appreciate that it was painted only with aesthetically pleasing birds, without heavyhanded symbolism.

(If she's going to be cast as the hysterical madwoman anyway, she may as well throw a fit at anything… overly embellished with peonies. Keepsakes of Zixuan's may have peonies. Gifts from A-Ling may have peonies. Nothing else needs peonies.) (Lotuses are allowable, but she doesn't like getting those from absolutely everyone, either.)

He sent another fan a year or two later, a few months after his unexpected ascension to Sect Leader. —The gossip of the maids when the fan was delivered was in fact how she learned of Nie Mingue's death, as well as the general poor opinion of the new Sect Leader.

Not handling Chifeng-zun's death well, they tutted.

Not handling anything very well, they tittered.

Sect Leader Nie himself stumbles into her secluded courtyard a while after that, while Koi Tower is abuzz with Jin Guangyao's elevation to Chief Cultivator. Nie Huaisang flutters his fan and compliments the embroidery she is (supposedly) working on, and her maid isn't quite confident enough to try to chase out a Sect Leader, even one like this. Instead the maid stands by in increasingly thinly veiled annoyance as Nie Huaisang rambles on about his birds, and when Jiang Yanli suggests they could use some more tea she actually goes.

With the maid gone, she dares probe for more information about the outside world. "You're here for the ceremonies, then?"

"Well, yes, and," he ducks behind his fan, "also to ask San-ge's advice on a few things, I'm so over my head it's shameful, I really don't know what I'd do, he's such a help and support to me, it's almost hard to believe he killed my brother, I really rely on him."

His fan flutters, but his eyes eyes, watching her over the top of it, are rock-steady.

They shouldn't count on even a minute before the maid returns. Jiang Yanli wishes she could rise, could lean across the table and grab his hand. Her fingers twist in the embroidery instead. "Believe it," she says. "I'm sure he had something to do with his father's death, maybe Madam Jin's too, and he's threatened A-Ling, and I'm just here to keep my brother on a leash, and— You should believe it."

(That and was Qiongqi Path, and oh, she wants to include that — wants to say the architect of her imprisonment was also the author of her worst suffering. Wants to say he set up my husband to be killed by my brother. But he might not have meant to. He might have sent Jin Zixuan there simply to undercut Jin Zixun — to stop Jin Zixun, even. She will not condemn a man for things he didn't do. Just for how ruthlessly he exploited the opportunities they gave him.)

Nie Huaisang closes his eyes for a moment. "Thank you, Madam Jiang."

And then the maid is back and they can't say anything else of substance.

But she's been seen. Someone knows that if she's mad it's not from grief.

And while she can't have any kind of honest, meaningful correspondence, no one seems to care if she and Nie Huaisang exchange art. Just harmless amusements for two weak, grieving, helpless people.

(They are, slowly, working towards some degree of coded communication, but not having been able to discuss a key ever is making it very slow to start.)

...aaaaaaaaaaand I should really get back to my preexisting writing commitments but I am pretty sure by the time Wei Wuxian crashes in the door she’s ready to escort them out with a swarm of spiritual-power-infused embroidery needles. and probably she’s suborned Qin Su at some point.

#other fic

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screamingatanemptyroom · 5 years

Text

I Refuse to be a Named Character pt 2

Happy Halloween everyone! Here is part 2 of the nameless side character story. I was so amazed at the response to it, thank you to everyone who commented or sent me messages. It really made my day. This story will probably be 4-5 parts. If all goes well part 3 should go up tomorrow!

Part 1 linked here.

Enjoy!

_____________________________

“So are you Chloe’s twin sister? You two look so alike!”

Graham, the story’s hero, smiled handsomely at me, closing the distance between us.

I grunted in response, otherwise ignoring him as I reluctantly led his group into my small home. One young woman, who looked to be in her early twenties, clutched an infected wound at her side with a groan as she walked. I helped her to my bed, uncovering the wound and gathering medical supplies to treat her with. I kept my face nonchalant, projecting a calm air, but on the inside I was bitterly complaining.

Stupid hero. Stupid plot. Even in the middle of the forest they manage to find me? Just what does a poor girl have to do to avoid these harbingers of doom?!

Unaware of my inner raging, Chloe had already stepped forward a bright smile on her face.

“Sister! I was so worried about you!” She reached out, and ignoring my efforts to step away, managed to pull me in for a tight hug. I struggled briefly, feeling uncomfortable. “I thought you were dead!”

I was happy that Chloe was still alive. Despite the bitter way we parted, I had never wanted anything bad to happen to her. But that didn’t mean I was pleased with her bringing the story’s plot right into my backyard.

I pulled away from her grasp. “I’m still very much alive.”

“Why did you never mention you had a sister, Chloe?” Graham’s face was mildly confused as he stared at her. Chloe froze, and I smiled to myself as I settled back next to the injured girl. Chloe obviously hadn’t talked about me, as she didn’t want Graham to know she had abandoned me, but how was she supposed to explain it now?

Her answer was apparently to cry loudly.

“I thought she was dead! I was so sad, I just couldn’t talk about it!” She sniffed back further tears, looking pitifully up at the story’s hero. “I wasn’t trying to hide anything. I just didn’t dare hope…”

I tried to hold back my laughter, and it came out in a suppressed snort. Chloe glared daggers at me for a moment, before turning back to Graham with a sad expression once more. He reached out to pat her shoulder, handing her a handkerchief to dry her tears.

“It’s okay, Chloe, I’m happy you were able to find her again.” His smile was so bright it was almost blinding.

Shuddering, I turned my attention to the wound in front of me. I carefully cleaned the dirt and dried blood, mixing herbs to stop bleeding and prevent infection to pack in her wounds. The actions reminded me of doing a similar task for Luke years ago. Smiling idly at the thought of him, I briefly touched the bracelet at my wrist.

I hope he’s doing well. His last letter said he was fine… but I would feel better if I could see him. Even though we only spent a few months together, I missed talking to him.

As I sat there, lost in thought, I slowly noticed that the room was silent. Glancing over, I caught sight of Graham’s face. His friendly smile was gone, replaced by a serious expression. His gaze was fixed on my bracelet. I felt uneasy, and tugged my rolled up sleeves down to cover my wrist, but even after his view was blocked, I felt his eyes still watching intently.

“Where were you and Chloe before you escaped?” His voice was quiet, but I felt a chill run down my spine.

I kept my attention back on his injured companion, wrapping the wounds while I answered. “At the household of one of the minor Lords.”

“…” The silence dragged on, causing a cold sweat breaking out on my forehead, but eventually he turned away, starting a different conversation as if he had never asked in the first place. The tension drained from the room, and I felt myself relax slowly.

_____________________________

Later that evening, I sat out on my porch, my weapons close at hand, staring up at the sky. I was drained. I had spent so much time living in solitude since Blade left (not that she had been one for social interaction even when she lived here), that the now full house with all the chatter and noise was giving me a headache. I rubbed my forehead, looking at the stars, feeling lost. There was a sense of foreboding, of an inevitable fate bearing down on me that I couldn’t shake no matter how hard I tried.

“Do you need to talk?” At the sound of Graham’s voice I groaned quietly, turning towards him, feeling slightly ill at the sight of the overly-sweet smile he wore.

“No.”

He seemed undeterred by my unfriendly tone and expression. “It’s okay, I just want to help you. Everyone here has been through terrible things, but we’re stronger now that we’ve banded together.” His voice was earnest, his eyes kind, as he sat down beside me.

I inched away from him. “That’s nice.”

“You could join us, you know.” His smile widened. “Be with your sister again. And the others? We’re much closer than mere companions. We’re a family, you know? And you can be a part of our family.”

It sounded so simple when he spoke. As if I would be happy and welcomed with opened arms. I glanced at him, idly wondering if he had given a similar speech to all the other young women in his group. If they had joined out of loneliness, a desire to belong, slowly falling in love with the man who had welcomed them so gently. All of them thinking they were special to him, when he only saw them as tools to be used to achieve his goals. And he wanted me to join them?

Even the thought was suffocating. “I prefer to be alone.”

“No one wants to be alone.” He sighed quietly. “I was once like you. Not trusting anyone, thinking the world was against me. If it weren’t for your sister Chloe finding me… believing in me… I don’t know where I’d be.”

“…” I stared up at the stars, not caring enough to answer.

“We could really use your help, to be honest.” He laughed, a self-deprecating gesture. “To tell you the truth, I’m not just a simple traveler…. I’m a prince.”

Was I supposed to be impressed? I tried not to roll my eyes. Stop trying to drag me into the plot!

Graham stared intently at me, and seemed disconcerted at my lack of reaction. “Did Chloe tell you already?”

“No.”

“Oh…. Well, maybe you understand then. Being a prince in Armaria isn’t all that special. I’m just one of many sons that lecherous old fart has. The real challenge, the real test… it’s the throne.”

Graham stood up, obviously filled with restless energy, and began pacing back and forth as he continued.

“There’s three tests that one must pass to be named the sole heir to the throne. First is simple, you must possess the token of affection passed from the king to the mother of the son in question. For those women who bore my father multiple sons… well she has to choose who she thinks is the strongest.” He paused, looking down on me as if wishing to gauge my reaction to these words.

I shrugged, bored at hearing again the exposition from a book I didn’t even like. Graham finally frowned at this, tugging at a something at his collar before holding it before my eyes. It was a beautiful strand of pearls, with a small golden amulet hanging from it. “This is my token, handed to me by my mother before she died. It will stay with me until I’ve successfully reached the throne… after which I will give it to my one true love as an engagement token.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Congratulations, who is the lucky girl?”

“… I’m not sure yet.” He hesitated before he spoke. “I’ve yet to fall in love… but I feel that it could change soon.” His words felt loaded with meaning, and he was smiling charmingly at me again.

It honestly made me feel sick. I had never liked Graham’s character even in the book. For all that he seemed nice and friendly, he was too… disingenuous. Too willing to tell his companions what they wanted to hear. To easy to abandon them to their horrible deaths. The fact that everyone praised him as a hero while he did so made it all the more chilling.

Even Lucien the villain is better than him. I thought suddenly. He might be a violent killer, but at least he’s open and honest about it. This “hero” makes me want to keep a hand on my wallet and sleep with one eye open!

“Well, good luck with that.” I answered him unenthusiastically. I hoped sincerely that he didn’t choose Chloe. Whichever “true love” he eventually picked would have a difficult time with this dishonest man.

Graham laughed at my answer. “How rare to see a girl like you who doesn’t covet anything.”

“I covet plenty of things.” Safety. Silence. Separation from the plot. “Just nothing you can give.”

“All the more reason to have someone like you at my side.” He sat down again. “The second task is much more dangerous, you see. One must travel to the Northern Desert. The place is crawling with dangerous animals and large lawless bandit gangs. Each gang leader has a Tarif, a small amulet that serves as a symbol of their undying loyalty. To reach the third and final test, a prince must be able to acquire one of these Tarifs and bring it back to the Western City.”

Seeing he was finally done, I shook my head. “It’s seems like you already have a good group here. You should be just fine without me.”

“We need someone who can track. And it wouldn’t hurt if she could hold her own in a fight too. “ Graham sighed. “Lula, the girl you just patched up, was supposed to help with tracking the bandit gang, but now… there’s no way she would survive out there while recovering from an injury. We need you.”

I smiled at him, and he seemed to relax for a moment, obviously feeling confident that I would agree.

“No.” Standing up, I turned to walk away, only to have my arm grabbed and held back. I turned coldly towards Graham, who refused to let go.

“Don’t you want to be a part of something bigger? Something greater?”

Like this awful plot that kills off the majority of its main characters? “Nope.”

“You would be a part of the small group of people who placed the future king on his throne! Forever remembered in legends!”

“Not interested.”

His eyes widened at my calm answer, a faint trace of panic visible in his eyes. “What about your sister?! Don’t you want her to be safe? Shouldn’t you stay by her side as she faces danger?”

I shrugged, still trying and failing to pull my arm back. “My sister has made her own choices, as I’ve made mine. You and Chloe are different from me, going out to face danger and accomplish wonderful things.” I smiled, but it felt more like a grimace. “I prefer to stay at home. Some people are just not meant for greatness or adventure.”

“…” Graham continued to stare at me, and as the silence stretched out I became more and more uncomfortable, but I refused to show it, looking back up at the stars.

“You never told me your name.” When he finally spoke again, his voice was strangely serious. I glanced over, surprised to see a look in his eye I couldn’t quite understand. Fortunately he finally released his grip on my arm, allowing me to put some distance between us.

“There’s no need to. I’ve never been important enough to have one.” I laughed briefly, shouldering my weapons and walking out towards the forest. “I’m going out to patrol. Goodnight, Your Highness. Good luck with winning the throne.”

Graham didn’t answer me. He just silently watched, his gaze boring into my back as I left him behind.

_____________________________

I thought that would be the end of it. At least, I hoped it would. After all, I had turned down the prince multiple times; he had to give up at some point, right?

But when I woke up the next morning, it was to Chloe’s desperate tears.

“You have to come with us.” Her voice cracked as she spoke, her face pale, her hands wringing together in front of her. She looked so different from the confident girl she had been back in our world, the one who had left me behind with only an angry glance.

“I made myself very clear to your hero last night. I’m not going.” I got up, washing my face from the cold water in the basin by my bed, trying to wake myself up faster.

“You don’t understand! Graham says that if you don’t come along, he’ll leave me behind!”

“Good.” I smiled. “You remember how many of his companions died in the Northern Desert? Chopped to pieces, shot with arrows, poisoned… Better if you can meet up with him in the Western City. Then at least if you die there it will only be a quick stab in the back.”

Chloe stepped back, her face drawn. “How can you be so cruel? I can’t abandon Graham and my friends now!”

“Then follow after them. No need for me to go.”

“But…”

I shook my head, feeling frustrated. “Chloe, I’m living a happy life out here in the forest, away from the plot. I don’t want to risk my life for Graham. Don’t ask me to.”

Chloe sank down to the floor, staring up at me. “Please. I need you.” She hesitated, then reached out, her hand pulling on my pant leg. “This… this hasn’t been going well. I thought if I found Graham first, was his main support, he would see me as special. That I would be the heroine. But…”

“He still gathered everyone, treating everyone the same.” I completed her sentence after she hesitated for a long moment.

“Graham really needs someone who can track. If I convince you to come… He might look at me differently.” She sounded miserable. I tried my best not to care.

“It won’t change what kind of person he is, Chloe.”

“Please. This is my only chance.” She pulled herself to her knees, kneeling in front of me. “I’m begging you. If you do this, I will never ask for you again. You can come back here and live the rest of your life as a no-name background character. But please. You’re the only one I can rely on. The only family I have left. “

“…” I wasn’t an idiot. I knew she was using me. Chloe had always been selfish, always needing me to be the one to give in, to let her have her way. She had left me behind, never looking for me, and only now wanted to claim that she missed me, that she needed me.

Part of me wanted to laugh in her face. To ignore her and watch her struggle without me. To have her realize that she couldn’t always have her way.

But I couldn’t. Because deep down, no matter how angry or bitter my feelings toward her had become, she was right about one thing:

She was all the family I had left, in our world and in this one.

Just one more time. I promised myself silently. One last time I’ll give in, give her what she wants. Then I’ll hide away so deeply that she’ll never find me again.

“I’ll come along for the second task only. After that you and your plot are on your own.” My voice sounded tired as I finally answered her.

Chloe jumped up, excited “THANK YOU…”

“On two conditions.” I interrupted with a grim smile. “First, I want your word that after this, you will never try to involve me in this madness again.”

“Of course!” Chloe promised without hesitation. “What’s the second condition?”

“Forget my name from our previous world. In this place, in this life, I’m not someone important enough to have a name.”

“Really?” She looked shocked. “Do you really think that by not having a name you’ll be safe? That’s pretty silly…”

“Silly or not, it’s my choice. I’m not a main character, Chloe. I’m the nameless woods guide who will help your group for a chapter. After that I fade from the story, never to be heard from again. Got it?”

“Got it.”

I watched her agree with a smug grin, feeling sad.

I already regret this.

It’s just a short interaction with the plot, right? … What could go wrong?

I groaned at my own thoughts, leaving to pack my bags.

_____________________________

I sat down next to the campfire, feeling tired, although more emotionally than physically. The long day of riding on horses was tough, but nothing I hadn’t experienced before while searching for game. In fact, that had ended up being the least of my worries. The problem was the stupid hero of this story, who wouldn’t leave me alone.

Graham was annoying.

Despite his initial happiness at my agreement to help out their group, he seemed dissatisfied with my desire to not be too close to them. Which led to him trying to get me to open up.

It was giving me a headache.

At first he kept trying to have “heart to heart” talks, asking personal questions, trying to guess my feelings and motivations. When that didn’t work he began dropping “private” details about himself, acting as if I was his only confidant. (Which wasn’t very interesting, as I knew most of the things he spoke of from the book already). When I continued to ignore him he began challenging me to contests of skill, from knife throwing to archery to even smaller things like cooking. Perhaps he thought that if he could develop a rivalry with me, we would become friends?

At first I beat him quickly, trying to shut him up, but that only seemed to make him want to challenge me again. The last few times I lost on purpose, hoping he’d lose interest, but now he seemed to want to spend time “teaching me” about the skill I’d lost in. There was no way to win, so I’d gone back to ignoring his challenges.

I poked at the fire, imaging his smiling face instead of the charred wood, feeling bitter.

Doesn’t he have a whole harem to manage? Why does the hero have so much free time to bother with a nameless side character?

“We arrive at the desert tomorrow.”

Speak of the devil.

I looked up at Graham who had sat across from me, and frowned. “Should we expect trouble?”

“Perhaps. I’m not the only Prince after all.” He shook his head. “The King passed on six personal tokens to his various women, so there will potentially be five other opponents besides us in the desert.”

“How many Tarifs are there?” I tried to remember what I had read in the book, but couldn’t.

“Three. So only half of us will go the Western City to face the final test.”

“I see.” I didn’t ask any further questions, trying to ignore the feeling of being stared at.

“Thank you for helping out scare away those bandits, earlier today.” Graham spoke up again. “You’re an amazing shot with a bow.”

I shrugged. “Be pretty difficult to be a good hunter if I couldn’t shoot.” I had aimed to miss near their heads, and fortunately the small group of armed men had run off without a fight.

“Either way, I’m glad you’re here.” Graham smiled again, making me want to sigh.

“…” I’m not glad to be here, though.

“Won’t you tell me your name?” He asked quietly, after I stayed silent for a long few moments.

“Don’t have one.”

“We can’t just not call you anything. Can I come up with a name for you?”

His persistence was irritating. I found myself missing the days with Luke back on the ninth lord’s estate. We had spoken every day for months, but he had never pushed me to give him a name, or make one up. I felt somehow, that he understood me, my desire to stay out of the spotlight in this terrifying world.

I moved to touch the bracelet hidden under my sleeve, but stopped myself in time. “No thank you. I prefer to not have one.”

Graham sat back, rolling his eyes. “You’re very frustrating.”

I smiled for the first time since he sat down. “Likewise.”

_____________________________

We arrived at the desert the next morning. A large ravine separated the Eastern Woods from Northern Desert, with only a few bridges serving as possible crossing points. I grew more nervous as we neared the largest bridge, remembering in the story how Graham’s party had been ambushed here.

Fortunately Chloe had already tipped off the group. Everyone had their hands on their weapons, ready to fight at a moments notice. We slowly crossed over the bridge, and a relieved sigh broke out over the group as we touched ground on the other side. I, on the other hand, felt more uneasy, looking at the large rocks around us, many of which were large enough to hide enemies.

THUD

An arrow whizzed by my face, striking the young woman next to me in the chest. I jumped back, looking for cover, cursing under my breath.

Of course this horrible plot won’t go smoothly.

“Prince Graham.” A sinister voice called out. “I’m so glad you could make it.” A young man stepped out from behind one of the large rocks, his bright green eyes almost seeming to glow in the bright sunlight shining down. His handsome features were marred by the look of vicious pleasure on his face. He glanced at the girl who had been killed behind me and laughed quietly, making me dislike him even more.

“Corran.” Graham spat out the name, and I nodded with understanding.

Prince Corran, a secondary villain from the Deadly Crown series. He was less capable than his villainous half-brother Lucien, but still managed to kill off quite a few main characters before being annihilated by Lucien in the end.

“Do you really think you can get the crown, brother?” Corran smiled, looking around our group. “Maybe if you spent less time finding girls to fall in love with, and gathered actual warriors…”

THUD.

My arrow struck his shoulder, knocking him to the ground. I cursed, my aim had been slightly off as I shot as soon as I looked around my cover.

“WHO DARES STRIKE THEIR FUTURE KING?” Corran struggled to his feet, his pale face angry.

I stayed silent behind cover. Who would be stupid enough to step out to take credit after sneak attacking the villain…

“I did it!” Chloe clutched her own bow, stepping out with a smile. “That’s what you get for underestimating Prince Graham! HE’s the true future king, no a pretender like you!”

I groaned quietly, preparing to shoot again.

“…” Corran’s smile widened. “Very well. I had initially planned to leave some of you alive…” He whistled, and ten men stood out from cover, weapons drawn. “But since you have a death wish, I should be kind and grant it for you!”

With loud screams, they rushed forward, I fired shot after shot, disabling a handful, but as they reached our group, it was difficult to shoot without friendly fire. Fortunately several of the young women in Graham’s team were excellent swordswomen, but they were outnumbered.

I drew my sword, feeling frustrated. What happened in the book again? How did Graham escape? I struggled to remember, even as I moved closer to the fight, my heart beating nervously in my chest.

Oh wait…

As it struck me, I heard terrified screams from Corran’s men.

It wasn’t that someone showed up to help Graham…

The sounds of fighting grew louder.

Wasn’t it just that an even bigger villain showed up?

Fighting his way through the group, a strangely familiar figure cut through Corrans’ men, his blade moving faster than the eye could follow. With his help the tide turned, and soon there was only Corran left, injured and enraged.

“WHY DID YOU INTERFERE?!” His screams were answered by silence from the man who stood in front of him.

I stared at his back, feeling a growing unease. Even without seeing his face, I felt I knew him… My hand reached over, touching the beads at my wrist.

But it can’t be him… why would he be here? Unless… A terrifying thought, one I had always avoided, came back at full force. I shook my head, trying to clear it. I must be imagining things.

“If you destroy your token, I will spare your life.” The man’s quiet response caught everyone by surprise.

“You lie!” Corran scoffed. “There’s no way you’d let a threat like me live!”

The man shrugged. “Without your token, you can��t compete for the throne. Why would I need your life?”

Corran stared at him, silently struggling. I remembered from the book that he was a proud man. The idea of giving up probably sat poorly with him. But was it worth his life?

The answer it seemed, was no

“Very well.” He finally, reluctantly spoke up. He reached into his pocket, bringing out a golden ring. “I will destroy…”

An arrow bloomed in his throat, blood tracing a path down to soak the collar of his shirt. A startled expression frozen on his face, Corran’s body fell to the ground, the soft impact seeming unbearably loud in the shocked silence.

I stared over at Graham, who still held up his bow with a bright smile. Seeing the gazes of the crowd turn towards him, he shrugged. “I’m avenging our fallen teammate, Alara.”

Poor Alara. I shuddered as I thought of the girl who had died at the beginning of the fight. She was one of Graham’s most trusted companions. But she was a main character, and this terrible plot wouldn’t let her go.

The dark haired man who had rushed to our aid stared at the dead body of Corran for a moment, before turning to walk away without another word.

“WAIT!” Graham called out after him. “Are you really going to just help us and leave without saying a word?”

The man kept walking.

“Not even to say hello to your fiancé?”

He froze in his tracks. My breath stopped for a moment as he turned around to face us, praying silently that what I suspected wasn’t true.

At the sight of his familiar face, I let out the air I had held in, feeling lightheaded.

“What do you want, Graham?” He didn’t look angry or annoyed. If anything he seemed… nervous.

“Not much, brother.” Graham smiled, stepping closer. “Just thought it might be nice for you two to talk after so long apart. Even if she’s technically helping out your competition.”

“I appreciate the concern.” The young man’s smile was forced as he moved away from Graham, stopping in front of me. I studied him silently as he drew near. He was different than I remembered, he had grown taller, his face more mature and filled out. But his eyes… the blue so dark they seemed almost black… they were unchanged. A brief flash of guilt shone from them as he looked straight at me, and a helpless smile tugged at his lips.

“Hello again.” His voice was barely over a whisper, but I felt my heart beat faster.

“Hello Luke.” I paused for a moment, feeling tired. “Or I guess I should call you Lucien?”

He didn’t deny it, and I felt a pain in my chest.

He was my first friend in this world, one of my closest friends in either to be honest.

But he was also the story’s villain. The violent murderer who slaughtered everyone who opposed him? Whose parts in the book I often skipped because the descriptions made me sick to my stomach?

That villain was Luke?

I hate this story.

I looked up at the one person I had trusted in this world, feeling lost.

“I think we need to talk.”

#writing #part 2 #part 3 in process #fantasy #rebirth #violence #intrigue

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