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wibixthecowboy · 1 year

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Play the Song: Part 6: A Little Quieter

Task Force 141 needs a new sniper and despite their complaints, they're assigned Flash, a joke-making, ABBA-listening, 20-year-old sharpshooter with better aim than the whole team combined. In other words, Ghost is practically handed the love of his life but he needs time to adjust because she's a firecracker.

UPDATED TAGS PLEASE READ

Warnings/Tags: !graphic depictions of panic attacks!, references to suicide attempts (no descriptions), references to SA (no descriptions), Age gap (20/30-32), gore, descriptions of injury/blood/wounds, swearing, weapons, justified angst, tooth rotting fluff, I can fix him he just needs a hug, warning for an excessively bad taste in music, slow burn, protective ghost, family dynamic, big brother soap has an attitude problem, father figure Price, wholesome brother Gaz, touch starved Ghost, eventual smut, praise, thigh riding, unprotected (wrap it up people), size kink, oral f receiving, ghost will do anything to get his dick sucked, idk I’m sure it will get dirtier as I go, shifting POV

A/N: Here is the long chapter I promised you! Sorry its so late... I may have indulged in a glass of wine.. or two.. so after I re-edit tomorrow it might be an entirely new chapter. OKAY IM DONE TALKING NOW ENJOY!

Words: 4.2k

Side note: All of these characters are fictional! Please don’t be weird about their real life actors, leave them out of this and be respectful!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

★Flash

Flash wakes quietly, eyes blinking open to see a dark expanse of a desert, and she has a blissful few moments of tranquility before her dreams come rushing back.

Her cheeks flush when she turns to Ghost, there was no way he could tell what her dreams had been about, but the thought of him somehow seeing the rated R images her mind conjured up horrifies her. Being so busy at the academy, even with her own room, leaving little time to indulge in more carnal desires. It had been years since Flash had even kissed someone, meaning it took an embarrassingly small amount of action to light the candle nestled between her thighs. In her defense, Ghost wasn’t much better, when he had stood between her knees that first night, Flash could see the way his hands shook with nerves and the uneven rise and fall of his chest. If it hadn’t been for his tense posture when leaving the bathroom, she would have guessed he’d, well, relieved himself. The thought of him getting off to her has Flash pressing her thighs together in embarrassment. Jesus, she needed to get her shit together.

Once she’s collected her thoughts enough to focus on their surroundings, Flash notices the music is playing again, this time at a lower volume. She smiles softly at the image of him turning on her music and flipping through the songs.

“Do you like the music?” She murmurs, stifling a yawn with her hand. Ghost turns quickly to look at her, he must’ve not noticed her earlier fidgeting. He clears his throat before answering. Flash finds his embarrassment endearing.

“I’m usually too busy to think about listening to music,” He drums his fingers against the wheel once before continuing. His voice is softer this time, “Yes I’m enjoying it.”

Flash feels her smile grow at his admittance, giddy at the idea of him opening up, to her no less. She wants to press, to ask him about his favorite genre, if he has one, or if he’s ever listened to ABBA (a personal favorite of hers). But she schools her excitement, knowing pushing would get her nothing. She chooses a safer response.

“I’m glad.” She resists the urge to reach out and touch him, fingers itching to peel the mask up over the cut on his chin and patch it up herself, the blood has soaked through the dark material and wound a path down his neck. She instead settles on resting her head against the seat to watch him as he drives, doing her best to ignore his exposed forearms and the way they flex whenever he makes a turn.

“Me too.” This new side of Ghost has Flash melting into her seat, the gruff man that was shoving her to the side just the day before was peacefully sitting next to her listening to Fleetwood Mac. Oh, the wonders of the world.

_____

Even in the dark, Flash is still able to see the rough outline of the compound. The area is dimly lit with small orange lights glowing around the perimeter of the concrete building, giving it an almost halo effect. It’s a lot smaller than she was expecting, dwarfed by the staggering height of the academy, the compound and its attached airport were pitiful.

When Ghost stops the van in front of the building he’s quick to step out and start towards the compound, leaving Flash scrambling to collect her things and jog after him.

“What’s with the rush big guy?” She says, feeling more at ease after their less than life changing conversation.

“I have things I need to do.” His tone is short and as soon as he finishes, Flash realizes that the sort of comradery that they had going in the van was no longer an option, her smile falters a bit, but she doesn’t let it ruin her entire mood.

While they were still in their friendship arc, Ghost had told her about Gaz. He’d mentioned that they might get along well, as long as she didn’t take his title. It took her a few minutes of pestering and promising to be silent for the rest of the ride to get Ghost to admit that Gaz is the proclaimed baby of the group. Supposedly, Price let him have first dibs on seconds. She made a bet that she’d have his spot in less than three days, and she was ready to get her 20 dollars.

Ghost holds the door open for her and watches as she thumps through the small space with her bag. When she turns to thank him, he’s already made it halfway down a hallway to their left. Flash huffs a breath in his direction and turns back to survey the large room in front of her. It's cozier than she was expecting. Although the room is made entirely of concrete, a handful of mismatched rugs make it feel less industrial. To her right, opposite the hallway of doors, is a small kitchen, separated from the rest of the room with a curved counter space. It has a small stove, fridge, and a table that looks like it's been taken out of an REI magazine with its bench seats. Further into the space, there’s a cobbled together living room, two worn armchairs facing a hideous orange loveseat.

There's three men there now, watching a black and white film on the small tv perched atop a rickety wardrobe. All three turn to look at Flash when the door closes loudly behind her. She gives them a sheepish smile.

“Hi?”

“Flash!” Soap jumps over the arm of the loveseat and walks towards her. “I thought we agreed Ghost was going to leave you with the cargo.” He teases.

When he gets close enough, Flash shoves his shoulder.

“And I here I thought I’d finally found my team.” She retorts and relishes in the pinch of his brow. He opens his mouth but a hand clamps down on his shoulder before he can speak. Vargas, or Alejandro as Ghost had called him in the van, steps around Soap to smile at Flash.

“If it isn’t our little Protector de Fantasmas.” He says slyly.

It takes Flash a moment but when she’s able to decipher what he said her body stiffens.

“Relax Rubia, word spreads fast around here.” Alejandro leans against Soap’s shoulder with an elbow, much to his annoyance. “He told me you had two of his men down before Ghost had recovered. That’s some impressive work.”

“I didn’t end up here by getting lucky.” She says and immediately regrets it. Flash is so used to defending her position that she doesn’t even recognize his words as a compliment, but from the earnest look on his face, she can tell he means it.

“Luck has nothing to do with it.” He says with a half smile and Flash returns it in full, hoping it would smooth over her harsh comment.

Soap clears his throat and shoves Alejandro’s arm off his shoulder, supposedly done with their conversation. He turns away from her to gesture at the third man who is hovering a few feet away from the group.

“Flash, this is Gaz.”

He’s younger than she expected, and cuter too. He looks like a cover model for an airport magazine, bronzed skin and perfectly straight teeth that make her flush when he smiles. A classic case of too handsome to be human. She wants to ask him what position he played on his high school rugby team but decides against it at the last minute. First impressions are important.

“Hi.” She says and sticks a hand out, kicking herself for being so formal.

He takes her hand but instead of shaking it, he pulls her into a hug, clapping her on the back a few times. Flash is so close she can smell the remnants of his cologne, she can’t quite place it, but it brings her back to the Hollister across from her favorite smoothie shop.

When he releases her, the bag hanging from her hand weighs a few more pounds, and her cheeks burn a bit hotter.

“Welcome to the team Flash.” Gaz bumps against Soap’s shoulder a bit rougher than necessary. “I’m excited to have someone to talk to from this century.”

Soap shoves him back and gives him a pointed glare,

“What the fuck do ya’ mean?”

“I mean,” Gaz gets out between his laughter, “I don’t always want to hear about your suffering during the potato famine.”

Flash laughs loudly at this, once again basking in Soap's wounded expression. Maybe she would have to become allies with Gaz instead. Alejandro shakes his head at them before interrupting their squabble.

“I’m heading out if this is what our conversations have divulged.” He grabs his things from the endearingly rustic table and salutes Flash. “See you soon Rubia.”

She salutes back and ignores Soap and Gaz’s offended looks, watching Alejandro leave through the same door she and Ghost had entered through.

“Let me show you to your room,” Gaz says, apparently done with his pestering, and Flash realizes halfway through a yawn, how tired she is.

“That would be amazing.” She says with a sleepy smile.

Gaz leads her and a moping Soap down the same hallway Ghost had disappeared through and stops in front of the second to the last door.

“This will be your room for now,” He gestures to the solid oak door and grimaces before continuing, “The building was not built with the expectation of women so the bathroom is shared between two rooms. I’m sure you and Ghost can figure out a system.”

Flash’s eyes widen at his words. She’d be sharing a bathroom with Ghost? Jesus have mercy on her poor soul.

“Ghost? You mean I can’t share with you? Or Price?” Gaz seems to catch onto her panic and lets out a barking laugh.

“No sadly I have to share a bathroom with this pig of a man,” He says and kicks Soap in the foot. She almost feels bad for him. Almost. “And Price got the only room with an attached bathroom.”

Flash curses and takes a steeling breath. This is far from the worst thing she’s endured. But the idea of sharing such an intimate space with such a private person has her heart racing.

“I’m sure it won't be much different from your dorms.” Soap says and Flash can’t believe she’s gotten both pity and reassurance from the two. She really must have drawn the short straw.

“I had my own rooms at the academy.” She grumbles and both men look at her in disbelief so she awkwardly pieces together an explanation, “When you’re young and better than a lot of men, they like to find ways to keep their ego inflated. Nothing too bad ever happened. It was more of a precaution.”

Flash feels awkward opening up to two people she’s known less than a week, but it gives her a sense of relief to finally tell someone. Soap gives her a sad smile and Gaz rests a warm hand on her shoulder.

“You won't have to worry about that here then. Go in and get settled, we already ate but you’re free to have whatever’s in the fridge.” Gaz gives her another one of his dazzling smiles and turns to leave with Soap.

Flash is quick to shut herself in the room, already blinking back tears. So this is what they meant when the other recruits talked about finding a family. All of her years of training suddenly feel worth it.

She bites her tongue as another wave of emotion rolls over at the sight of her room. It actually looks like a bedroom. A large bed takes up most of the space, framed by two small nightstands, and a plain oak wardrobe rests against the far wall next to a full mirror. It's simple, but the warm light spilling from the bedside lamp ties the room together with a gold bow.

What she see’s next though, has her heart leaping into her throat. Her iPod has been set on the nightstand, next to the carefully wrapped shape of her headphones that she’d so carelessly left in the van. He’d been in here?

Flash sets her bag on the bed before walking carefully through the door to her left, not wanting to risk a creaking board under the carpet. They definitely didn’t hold back this time. A long counter with two porcelain sinks stretches the distance of the bathroom, across from it, there’s not only a standing shower but a large clawfoot bathtub. It's been years since Flash has taken a real bath and she nearly caves at the sight of it. The door at the far side of the room keeps her focused. Still stepping lightly, she stops right in front of the door and raises her fist to knock against it. She hesitates at first, her fist only gliding across the wood surface before she’s knocking harder.

There’s no answer at first, but when she knocks again she hears a muffled come in. Flash falters for a moment, she hadn’t prepared for him to actually answer. She takes a deep breath and turns the handle, pushing the door open.

The breath she’d taken is immediately knocked from her chest when she sees Ghost writing at a desk. He’s dressed down to a tight black shirt and a pair of jeans, an outfit that despite its conservativeness, has Flash feeling like she needs to cover her eyes. The balaclava is crooked at his neck, obviously hastily put on, and the thought of him sitting just a room away without it makes her stomach flip.

“Can I help you?” His rough voice has whatever sad excuse Flash had for interrupting him flying out of her head. She recovers quickly though.

“I wanted to thank you for bringing my things in.” She says quietly and he just shrugs, not looking up from his journal.

Flash hovers for a second, looking around his room in hopes to find another conversation starter. Ghost’s room is nearly identical to hers, sans desk. His bed is rumpled but the rest of his room is in near perfect condition. When her eyes land on the small stack of books on his wardrobe she sees her opportunity.

“Could I borrow a book?” He does look up at this, wordlessly glancing between her and the stack. “I forgot my charger and I have a hard time falling asleep without my music. Maybe if I read I can bore myself to sleep, not that you’re books are boring! I just mean it might be relaxing.” She knows she’s rambling but she’s to distracted by the tilt of his head to care.

“Go ahead.” He says, waving a careless hand toward them and returning to his task

Flash quickly walks to the stack, grabs the first one, and retreats back to the doorway. It’s clear that he’s waiting for her to leave, but she can’t bring herself to shut the door behind her.

“How does your chin feel? That guy hit you pretty hard.” She says hesitantly.

“I cleaned it.” Ghost huffs in an uninterested tone.

“Are you sure? It looked bad from where I was sitting.”

There are a few seconds of silence and during them, Flash watches Ghost relax a bit further into the wooden chair.

“I’m fine Flash” His voice is softer now, and when he says her name, a warm shiver runs up her spine.

“Okay then, well, goodnight?” It comes out as more of a question and she kicks herself for being so easily affected. He doesn’t respond right away and she’s about to close the door when he finally speaks up,

“Goodnight.” She almost misses it, but when she hears his quiet reply she practically slams the door shut, running through the bathroom and throwing herself onto the bed.

It takes a tremendous amount of strength to peel herself from the covers to clean up in the bathroom and it takes even more to not look at every product he has next to the sink and in the shower.

When she's finally settled, old western novel in hand, she doesn't even make it through the first page before nodding off.

______

Their little dance goes on like this for the next two weeks. Despite her constant protesting, Flash is left at the compound to train with Price while Soap, Gaz, and Ghost run through several small busts. None of them memorable enough to recount when she comes barreling into his room upon his return. Her presence has become more bearable. After seeing their team's appointed psychiatrist, he’d been put on a heavier dose of anxiety medication. When Price found out, he insisted that Ghost also make a point to talk to the doctor about his problems. Claiming that their team needed him at his strongest. That's where he is today. Sitting in the conference room, now a makeshift therapy room.

Comforted by the notion of doctor-patient confidentiality, Ghost lets the hard set of his shoulders relax against the green armchair of the psychiatrists office. Opposite of him sitting at a large oak desk, Dr. Marks, a balding eccentric psychiatrist who he’d been becoming more familiar with over the last two weeks. The doctor sighs as he flips through the various medical records in Ghost’s file before closing it entirely and shoving it to the side of his desk.

“And you said that your only side effect has been trouble falling asleep?” He didn’t want to admit it, but the pills have been helping. He’s only taken them a handful of times since having the dosage upped, but they did their job a bit too well. With a clearer mind, Ghost is able to identify his source of panic much quicker, but that also meant that nights spent alone were filled with images that he simultaneously craved and loathed. That had been their topic of conversation this past week, Ghost’s unflinching desire for domestic life.

“Yes.” Ghost mutters.

“I can prescribe you a light sedative, nothing too strong, and in a small amount. You can refill it as you run out.” Dr. Marks leans back in his rather antique looking leather chair and rubs a hand against the silver scruff on his jaw, giving him that same sad smile. “I’m sure you can understand why.”

Ghost gives him a curt nod, not wanting to open up more room for discussion on the subject.

The doctor seems to pick up on it and swiftly changes the topic, already used to Ghost’s aversions to that certain page in his file.

“Have you thought any more about what I told you last session?” Dr. Marks asks softly.

“I’ve thought about it, yes.” Ghost says, avoiding eye contact by picking at the rough linen fabric of his own armchair.

“And?”

“It’s not going to happen.”

When Ghost looks up he can see the pity in the doctor's eyes. It’s seemingly the only way people know how to look at him like he's something that’s needing coddling. Except for her, and that’s his problem.

“There is still an opportunity for happiness, it’s in there Simon. When you’re ready to bear it, it will find its way back to you.”

“How can it find me if I can’t even find myself.” Ghost sags further into the cushion of the armchair, choosing to observe the dark wood grain of the desk rather than the eyes staring straight through him. He already regrets opening his mouth.

“You’re a lot closer to finding yourself than you think. Sometimes we need assistance though, and that’s okay.”

Ghost huffs a quiet laugh at his words and stands, ready to be out of the suddenly stifling atmosphere. Dr. Marks stands with him, reaching a hand across the table. When Ghost takes it, rather than shaking them, the doctor rests his other hand on top and gives their clasping hands a gentle squeeze.

“You’re still young. Don’t let your past control your future, it can be suffocating but you’re stronger than you think.” Dr. Marks gives him a kinder look now, one that has Ghost’s throat tightening. He needs to get out.

“Thank you.”

“Of course. I’ll let you know when the prescription comes in, I don’t have a small enough dose I can give you now but it shouldn’t be too long.” It’s again followed by the same ‘I feel guilty but don’t know what to say' look that he dreads so much.

Ghost gives him another nod and covers the space between his chair and the door in just a few strides, opening and closing it quickly without looking back.

Before he even reaches the doorway he can hear her laugh. A bright sound that warms his chest and leaves him a bit breathless. When he does walk into the room he sees Flash, Soap, and Gaz sitting around the kitchen table arguing over a card game. From the looks of it, Soap is losing, he’s slumped back against the wall glaring daggers at Gaz while drawing cards from the main deck.

Ghost turns to look at Price who is sitting in one of the two armchairs facing the kitchen, watching the three with a smile on his face. He strides over and takes the chair next to him.

“How’d it go?” Price’s eyes don’t leave the group.

“Better. I’m getting something to help with my sleep.” He says with a sigh.

Price does turn to look at him now, brows furrowing.

“We won’t have any problems will we?” Ghost feels the burn of shame on his cheeks.

“No. Small doses.”

“Good.”

They go silent after that. Both turn to focus back on the rowdy group. Ghost finds himself zoning in on Flash. Her laughter has turned the apples of her cheeks a rosy pink and even from across the room he can see the way her eyes shine. That same tingling tightness that has plagued Ghost for the past week returns at the sight, squeezing the breath out of his lungs in a warm embrace.

“She’s a sweet one that girl.” Price says, gesturing towards Flash with the bottle in his hand. “It makes me worry.”

Gaz, taking advantage of Soap’s bathroom break, has started slipping cards into his hand left on the table. Flash is bent at the waist laughing, wiping away tears, and begging Gaz to stop before he returns.

“I wouldn’t.” Ghost says distractedly. Price raises an eyebrow at him.

“You would know?” Price’s gaze softens as he takes in Ghost watching her. “You’ve taken a liking to her then?”

Ghost stiffens at his words but doesn’t bother arguing, Price is the only one he doesn’t bother lying to. He’s able to see through Ghost’s rough exterior wall too easily.

“You know I can’t.” Ghost's voice is a near whisper.

“It’s not against code, young as she is she’s just as much of a Lieutenant as you are.” Price says softly. Ghost turns to look at him, missing Soap’s boisterous reaction to his now deck of a hand.

“We both know it’s not that.” He mutters.

“You can’t shut everyone out forever Ghost.” Price says before taking a sip out of his bottle.

Ghost is about to tell Price that he absolutely can when a voice shouts across the room for him,

“C’mon Ghost! Come play with us!” Flash yells while beaming in his direction and Ghost feels his knees weaken at her excitement over him playing a game, it was usually quite the opposite. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d sat and listened to Soap and Gaz complain about having to be on his team. It was never done on purpose, but it still struck that small chord that rested at the base of his skull. The one that was currently urging him to take the seat next to Flash and forget about the warning sirens going off in every other part of his brain.

“I’m heading off to bed.” He says instead, knowing nothing good would come of it. Flash frowns at him for a moment but then shrugs her shoulders. He stands from the chair and starts towards the hallway of rooms.

“Awe well I’ll just take Soap up on his offer. He said we could go,” Flash scrunches her nose and turns a questioning gaze to Soap, ”what did you say?”

Soap looks at Ghost with a devilish smirk and even though he’s speaking to Flash, Soap keeps his eyes locked with Ghosts.

“I said we could go practice her poker with Alejandro’s boys.” Soap says simply. Ghost freezes and all earlier hesitation evaporates.

“How do you play the game?”

#ghost x reader #Ghost x female oc #simon riley #cod fic #simon ghost riley #Slow burn #family dynamic #modern warefare 2 #ghost stories #soap #mw2 headcannons #mw2 smut #ghost likes his hair pulled

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gameguides · 2 years

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Potionomics Make Money Guide

Welcome to our Potionomics Make Money Guide. This guide will show you the basics of profit making and STONK market HEGEMONY (click trap). There are a few things that will have an impact on potion prices. Here they are! #Potionomics We know that there are people who have a hard time finishing the Potionomics game. If you are one of those who find it difficult to finish the game, let's take you to our Potionomics guide.

Potionomics Make Money Guide

So I've been playing this game for a little bit, and just want to share a few tricks.This is only based on my experience tho. There are several things that will have effect on the potion prices. 1) The most important thing is the grade of the potion not only if it will increase the base price, some custom order need a certain grades of potion to complete.The grade is based on total magimins of potion + the Balance of magimins(1-2 stars) 2) Haggling is the most certain ways to increase a potion price in % modifier.But beware of the stress increase by the costumers(the stress decrease automatically by 10 per day).The card in the deck can be increase by improving relationship with NPC(this cost 1 time). 3) RNG event effect on the day is a modifier either good or bad that randomed at the start of the day.Also on the last few days 7-9 the Boss of that week will put debuff on you on that day.(this increase or decrese the prices of potions by a lot around 50% I think) 4) Luna market manipulation(you can meet luna on day 13).You can pay her to manipulate market by tier I 20% tier II 40% tier III 60%(not sure) 5) 5 trait of a potion each trait increase or decrease price by 5 % which can also be manipulate with roxanne after you beat her. 6) The shelves you have each tier an increasing base modifier tier I 5% tier II 10% and so on + bonus for certains type of potions. 7) Aging Barrel increase price of potion by aging them Useful Tips 1) Increasing rank in relation ships with NPC to 4 and 8 will give you a coupon: on Quinn 10 % and 20% decrease in price, Muktuk 15% and 30% decrease in price etc. Will save you a LOT of money so be nice to your virtual friends. 2) Uses the card NPC gives you it is much more efficient than your base card 3) Unlock Xid as fast as possible he has a base 6 mana and 5 tolerance which save you a mana potion and the best adventure you can get before unlocking Corsac. 4) The rare ingredient that has 4 or 5 magimins doesn't matter in the first 3 boss (week) of the game.So don't invest too much to get it you can unlock it later in the game by adventuring deeper anyway. 4.2) The high magimin count ingredient are - 1.multiple magimins ingredient - 2.Ingredient with bad trait The are very useful in growing ingredient after you unlock garden(after defeating corsac) 4.3)The ingredient with bad trait often have high magimin count and is very cheap in comparison so stock buying them and feeding them to your slime in the garden to grow more expensive to buy ingredient. Slime eating same magimin type get double growth point 5) Don't hangout it's a waste of time, give gifts instead. 6) Using hay is the most cost efficient fuel in the early game(you may need wood to construct something) But of course not Time efficient Hay: 1 time/10 g wood: 2 time/20 g mushroom/cactus: 3 time / 50g Coral/Thunder log/Cocoon: 4time/110 gold 7)At 7 ingredient count in your brew it increase potion output to 4 STONK market HEGEMONY Startegy So I've tried to make a lot of money and for now the best way I've found is for you to make only a single types of potions to sale and use Luna to manipulate the market(it last for 2 days so choose it first then make potions to match it) and Roxanne can bend more than 1 sense at a time on late game so thats makes a huge modifier.Then sell the potions on the shelves that match it if possible. WARNING if you got unlucky and got an RNG decrease modifier on the same new day its not going to makes that much profit. (optional) Make stocks of potion first then age all of them then sell later Read the full article

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grumpygreenwitch · 3 months

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The Witches and Wizards Job 5-6

For the record, authors who write well with a first person perspective have my utmost respect. It's unspeakably HARD.

Also, as a treat, while it is currently updating once per week here, once it's finished it'll jump to being updated once a day. The week is just so I can have breathing (writing) room in case something should happen.

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Remember: Tumblr has no algorithm. Reblogs give me life.

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FIVE

Let me tell you how the Boston thing went down.

It was late summer, so as far as Chicago was concerned it was fall already. Nightfall had brought up a heavy mantle of fog from Lake Michigan; it made the dark of the night all the more profound, muffling sounds, blurring sights and scents. Anything could've been lurking in that iron-scented blanket, good or evil.

And for once, it wasn't my problem.

I've never been a man to shy away from a fight, but I'm not the sort that goes looking for one, either. You give me a chance to do nothing for a night, and I will absolutely take it. Unfortunately, life hardly ever gave me those sorts of chances; when it did, usually something big, bad, possibly angry and definitely violent landed on my doorstop as soon as I'd put on my comfortable slippers. And since I was on my second cup of tea, working my way through a nice little paperback, feet up, bathrobe on, and nothing was happening, I was a little… nervous.

It's not that I have bad luck. Well, alright, I do have questionable luck, at best. But when you're the only guy on the Chicago Yellow Pages listed under W for Wizard, Professional, your workload tends to get either a little silly or a lot weird. In my case, it usually also involved a heaping helping of life-threatening and limb-mangling. It was to the point where I didn't know if I remembered how to relax, which was a sad state of affairs for anyone, let alone someone who'd just caught up on rent and bills. I couldn't even remember the last time I actually had money to my name after paying for everything involved with being a responsible, working adult.

It was almost a relief when the knock on my door finally came. Almost.

Except that I was home.

No one ever came to my home unannounced bearing good news, not even me. I looked at my roommates. Mouse, my brand-new cow-sized dog, cocked an ear at the door and kept snoring. Mister, my dog-sized cat, asleep on top of Mouse, didn't dignify the noise with even that. Since both of them have always been a little more dedicated to their self-preservation than me to mine, I chose to trust them. I put aside the cup and and the book, and headed for the door.

I still grabbed my staff, though. Fool me once and all that.

The door opened to a vast patchwork sea of fog. I could feel it, like a living thing, trying to worm its way in, looking for bones to chill and joints to make achy. Look, I said the fog was pretty, not that it was nice.

There was a man standing a few steps from my door. He wore a long black coat against the night chill, had curly dark hair and a friendly face. He looked pretty harmless, all things said. By his side he had a gorgeous woman wrapped in a white jacket, wavy black hair framing an olive-skinned face like a silver screen's star. They both looked calm. A little curious, maybe. They were both wearing the sort of clothing you see on the newspaper under the 'Social Events' heading.

"Mister Dresden, good evening," the man said politely.

I closed the door.

And locked it.

Both their coats were plain, very unadorned, nothing fancy, not even the buttons, and that was just the first problem. Only people who already know they're the nastiest predator in the room dressed like that, expensive but unassuming, elegant and comfortable both. Just like Johnny "Gentleman" Marcone, one of my personal pains in the ass and probably the most powerful crime boss in Chicago. I'd only gotten a passing look at what they wore under the coats, but I already knew it was way too expensive for my peace of mind.

The second was the distance. They'd knocked and immediately stepped back a good four steps from the door. Two steps would've been a nice, modest courtesy. Four meant they expected someone to come out swinging. Only four meant they were pretty sure they could take someone that came out swinging.

Life taught me early on how to cold-read a room. I got good enough at it that I could also tell when someone was doing it to me. I wouldn't have sworn to it, but I had that unhappy feeling crawling up my spine that said the woman had been doing it from the moment I'd opened the door. The man had been a little slower: he'd probably been waiting for me to speak.

And in general, women that gorgeous never paid any attention to me unless they wanted me dead. I knew one exception to the rule, on a good day. Maybe two. Also, no one ever calls me 'Mister Dresden'. 'Dresden' was about as polite as it got. 'Wizard Dresden', maybe, when someone was feeling notoriously pissy or murderously smug. 'Harry' only happened when I was among friends.

I stayed close to the door, and heard the woman berating the man, but I couldn't make out any words. I was hoping they'd leave on their own, mainly because not knowing who or what they were, I didn't know if I could chase them off. Instead, there was another knock.

"Mister Dresden?" It was the woman; she had a ghost of a Brit accent, enough to sound nice without being cloying. "We're terribly sorry to have barged in like this," she said. "We have a business proposition for you that we felt couldn't wait -"

If there's any words in the English language more dangerous than those, I couldn't think of them at the moment.

"- but obviously this is not a matter to be discussed at home. Maybe lunch would be better? Say tomorrow, twelve, at Ricardo's?"

… Ok, my bad. Baiting me into a trap by inviting me to one of the best Italian joints in Chicago was maybe a little more dangerous. I've skipped meals often enough in this life to appreciate a free lunch as much as anyone else.

"We'll be waiting. Just ask for Nathan Ford. Good night." I heard them walk away, speaking in the quiet tones of someone who knew no fear of anything that might be hiding in the fog.

SIX

I decided to walk into the trap. I did shower and shave, though, just in case it wasn't a trap. I even cleaned my coat. I still got a look from the maitre'd when I showed up. I didn't blame him; he had nearly six feet of beanpole dressed in clean hand-me-downs in front of him, at the head of a line that smelled like money from around the block. No amount of shaving was ever going to make me look like I belonged there.

I still got escorted to the best table in the house. I could feel that trap tightening, but the smell of their osso bucco was making my stomach growl and my mouth water. The two people from the night before were sitting already, wine glass half full for her, sparkling water for him.

Huh.

In the light of day the woman was even more beautiful than I'd thought. She had an earthy beauty, a sort of human quality that made you want to trust her, to like her. She was wearing one of those dresses again, deceptively simple in creamy green, but so well-made that it hugged every curve and managed to leave everything and nothing to the imagination. She was wearing a plain gold chain with a little pendant that looked, felt, old and priceless, and matching earrings. Her eyes were naturally dark and smoky, and she was chuckling low at something the man had said, her eyes full of affection.

It figured. All the good ones were always taken.

The man looked rumpled… But I realized as I looked him over that it was nearly the same way I look rumpled. His clothes were good, he just wasn't comfortable in them. He'd put on a mask to come meet me, and the suit was just part of the costume. He was, as I'd seen the night before, friendly, even harmless-looking. Which only made me even more nervous. A pile of leaves wasn't a threat until you stepped on the rattler hiding in it.

"Ah, mister Dresden." They both stood up to greet me, the woman taking point. "So glad you decided to join us."

"I'm a horribly curious man," I admitted as we all sat down. "And you said you had a business proposition. I should warn you, I don't do overseas."

She laughed a little. "No, not overseas."

"But there would be some traveling involved," the man said evenly. Even his voice had that friendly, laidback quality. He was making me very nervous.

"I am Sophie Deveraux. This is Nathan Ford. We run a small operation in New England, Boston -"

I wasn't quick enough to keep from grimacing openly.

"Is that a problem?" Ford asked mildly.

"I work in Chicago," I said, because I wasn't about to admit the real problem to these two strangers.

"We are willing to make any travel arrangements you require, mister Dresden," Deveraux persisted. "We require your services in-situ as a consultant."

My brain screeched to a halt. "I'm sorry, what?"

"We need a wizard," Ford said bluntly. "You're the only one we could find that has anything even remotely like credentials."

That was a weird thing to say, if only because one, yes, absolutely a wizard but two, credentials didn't happen in my line of work. I got most of my clients through word of mouth and desperation.

"Unfortunately, Boston is non-negotiable," Deveraux said mildly.

"I'll save you the lunch, then." I would have loved to try Ricardo's lobster sauce ravioli, but I didn't see the meeting going anywhere. Even if I'd been willing to brave the Nevernever for a trip of that magnitude, Boston was a mess I really didn't want to touch.

"You haven't heard our offer, mister Dresden. Please, at least hear us out while you eat?" she persisted.

She was pretty, and friendly, and just because the last job had paid the bills didn't mean they weren't gonna come back. That's what bills do, after all. "I don't travel. Magic and technology don't mix well. I don't want to think what would happen if I got on a plane -"

"Train?" she suggested immediately.

"Ship?" Ford added. "Charter bus?

"Hired driver?"

It came at me so quickly, so rapid-fire, that I had trouble for a moment figuring out what they'd done. I'd put out a problem, and immediately their first reaction had been to find workarounds. All the delicious pasta smells in the world couldn't drown out the warning bells going off in my head. "Uh, what'd you say you people do?"

"We didn't," Ford replied.

"Much like you, mister Dresden -"

"Harry, please." It was getting hard to remember that I didn't know these people, they were the ones who'd looked me up, and they didn't have a reason to attack me, yet; the formality had a lot to do with that.

Deveraux smiled at me and I felt vaguely jealous of Ford on the spot. "Harry," she purred. "Much like you, we solve problems for people who have very few options left otherwise. Like you, we are a very small operation and rely mostly on the goodwill we create with our success to secure further clients. That's why it's so important that we do succeed, and that is why it's so important that we secure your help."

I was about to ask if they were a cult when three white-clad staff came out of the kitchen, followed by Ricardo himself. Deveraux gasped in delight as plates were set down before us all. My stomach whined pathetically when I reminded it I was going to say no to the job.

"Rica!" She greeted the owner like they were friends, no benefits, and the man beamed back at her. "A feast! You made all my favorites, you didn't miss one!"

"Nothing is too good for Sophie Deveraux," he replied, beaming, and they launched into a conversation in rapid-fire Italian.

Which left me and Ford alone at the table. I eyed the man. He wouldn't meet my eyes, busy picking at the food.

"So you solve problems."

"So to speak," he agreed neutrally.

"Are you hitmen?"

"Uh, no, mister Dresden. Where possible, we try to keep everyone involved from dying."

It wasn't just what he'd said, but the way he said it, that made the bells in my head go off even louder. Ford hadn't hesitated, not in answering, not with the answer itself.

"And you need a wizard."

That did make him pause. I expected it to.

"We need someone in your field to advise us during this current job."

"Uh-huh. Even though you don't believe in magic at all?"

Ford went very still, and leveled a look on me that was the first honest gesture I'd seen from the man. There was ice in that look, a depth of ruthlessness that made me wince a little bit, and which matched the first perception I'd gotten from him with his answer about hitmen. This was someone quite capable of killing; he simply chose not to.

"Even though you don't like me?" I added.

"I don't like a lot of people in this world, mister Dresden," he replied politely, getting a piece of shrimp and avocado crostini. "That doesn't mean I won't use their services if the situation calls for it."

"Well, that's honest if nothing else."

"I've found honesty is the best policy when hiring someone."

"I don't travel. I can't travel, not right now. I have a dog that's still growing into his paws."

"Can't you kennel it?"

Oof. Well, after that, I didn't like him either. "Mouse is not the sort of dog you kennel."

"You have a dog?" By contrast Deveraux, returning to the table, looked excited to hear that. "What kind?"

"Um, Tibetan Temple Mastiff."

"Tibetan Mastiff, that's a big dog," Ford commented neutrally.

"No, not a Tibetan Mastiff. Tibetan Temple Mastiff."

They both stared at me for a long moment, long enough that I began to wonder if I'd misjudged them. "Is it actually a dog?" Deveraux asked neutrally.

"I think so. It's just… I can't kennel him. So, you know, another reason I can't take the job."

"Bring him with you," she said blithely. "We'll make accommodations."

Ok, I hadn't expected that. "Uh."

"It's a dog," Ford said stiffly. "We can pay for him to kennel it."

"He's not kenneling his dog, Nate," she told him tartly.

"But -"

"We don't expect you to do anything risky, Harry," she carried on. "We just want you on hand to answer questions and advice us on some matters. Think of it as a very nice sabbatical. You've won a trip, all expenses paid, to Boston. "

"That's the other thing. Boston is…"

"Boston is what?" There was a tight defensiveness in Ford's seemingly innocent question that brought my attention right back to the man.

Guess it was a good thing I wasn't interested in insulting his home turf. "Magically speaking, Boston is… very busy." I was trying to figure out how to say what I wanted to say without breaking a dozen covenants and laws.

"Is there something specific to your… job," Ford asked mildly, "that you need, a permit, a license, to be able to come to Boston?"

"It's not that, it's… It'd be a bit like a Yankees fan walking into a Red Sox bar mid-season."

"Ah." Ford reeled back.

"No one needs to know you're coming," Deveraux protested.

"Oh, they'd know." It was the first time she'd said something that betrayed how little she actually knew about me and magic. That was also when I realized how very neatly I'd been sidetracked from the most important question. "What's this job you're doing that you need a wizard for it?"

They both crossed a look. The warning bells drew in a deep breath and screamed even louder.

Deveraux opened her mouth. Ford beat her to it. "We don't know." He grabbed a fork again.

"You - you came all the way from Boston to Chicago to hire me and you don't know why?"

Ford took a moment to think. "No," he admitted readily before setting to work on the fettucini. "We don't know. That's precisely why we're hiring a wizard."

"We rarely need to bring in outside contractors for our work, Harry," Deveraux explained. "We, as a team, have a very, very large pool of knowledge and expertise. This time, however, we have found a situation that falls outside that pool."

"Someone must have told you what you were looking for. People don't just wake up one day and decide, 'oh, I think a wizard will solve all my problems today'."

"Someone did," Ford agreed. "That is need-to-know information."

"Well, I need to know."

"And we need a wizard in Boston."

"Harry," Deveraux shot Ford a look that betrayed the kind of steel needed to like a man with so much ice in his soul. When she faced me, though, she was all warmth once again. The woman was a damn chameleon. "We need you. It's as simple as that. You are the only wizard we could find who is, I hate to use this word, reputable. We will make any traveling arrangements you require, for you and your dog. We will make any living arrangements you want in Boston, for you both. We will cover all of your expenses. And we will pay you a consultant's fee."

"You don't know my rates." The sheer amount of money Deveraux was offering made the bells in my head shut up real quick. It made me want to shut up and say yes, too. My voice came out a little croaky, even I could hear it. I grabbed for the water to try and wash the shock down.

"They weren't hard to find out," she countered mildly. She gestured at Ford, who handed her a folded piece of paper. "And if your talents are a match to your reputation, they're quite ungenerous."

"I don't think it's too much to ask -"

"To you, Harry. They're ungenerous to you. This is our offer." She slid the piece of paper over to me.

I read it. Word of advice: don't drink and read money offers from gorgeous women who solve other people's problems for a living at the same time. The water went places it had no business visiting and I started coughing. There was a very, very big number on that piece of paper. "I can't stay out of Chicago that long!"

"Harry, that's per day."

Hell's Bells but it felt like the trap had closed on me and I didn't even know when. "Do you mind if I take this offer home and think on it?"

"No, of course not." She offered me a little business card. It was, like their clothes, very plain and elegant and it said 'Leverage, Inc'. It didn't even have an address, just a phone number and an email. "When do you think you'll have an answer for us?"

As soon as I figured out who Sophie Deveraux and Nate Ford really were, and who they wanted me to kill? "Tonight."

She beamed at me. "That would be wonderful. Now while we eat, do you mind if I ask you questions? I've never spoken to a wizard before. Nothing about the job, of course."

I just grinned at her. What else could I do? She was gorgeous, that lobster aioli smelled like heaven, and there were three pieces of shrimp crostini whispering naughty things to me from their plate. "No problem."

#Leverage #Nathan ford #sophie devereaux #eliot spencer #parker #alec hardison #the dresden files #harry dresden #fanfiction #crossover #my writing #urban fantasy

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carryonblue-eyes · 1 year

Text

Boredom

1: Could you go the rest of your life without smoking a cigarette? Yes, I've managed so far!

2: Are you single/taken/heartbroken/confused? Confused definitely.

3: What if I told you that you were pretty? I’d say thank you.

4: Ever been told “it’s not you, it’s me”? No.

5: Are you interested in anyone right now? Yes.

6: What are you looking forward to in the next week? Seeing him, its been a while.

7: Do you want to be single? No.

8: Did you go out or stay in last night? I was working last night.

9: How late did you stay up last night? About 11pm.

10: Can you recall the last time you realized you liked someone a lot? Yes, this summer.

11: Last three things you had to drink? Blackcurrent ribena, strawberry ribena and water.

12: Have you pretended to like someone? No.

13: Have you ever told somebody you loved them and not actually meant it? No.

14: Honestly, has anyone seen you in your underwear in the past 3 months? Yes.

15: Is it hard for you to get over someone? Yes.

16: Think back five months ago, were you single? Yes.

17: What were you doing at 12:30 this afternoon? Working.

18: Hold hands with anyone this week? Yes. My best friend and my nephew.

19: Could you go for the rest of your life without drinking alcohol? Yes.

20: What would you name your future daughter? I’ve got many names I’d name a daughter.

21: Do you miss anyone? Yes.

22: Have you kissed three or more people in one night? Yes.

23: Did your last kiss take place in/on a bed? Yes.

24: Are you good at hiding your feelings? Probably not.

25: Have you ever cried from being so mad? Yes.

26: Who did you last see in person? Family.

27: Are you listening to music right now? No.

28: What is something you currently want right now? Him.

29: What is the last thing you said out loud? Thank you.

30: How is your heart lately? Pretty healthy I think, normal heart rate.

31: Do you wear the hood on your hoodie? Sometimes.

32: Are you wearing socks? Yes.

33: What do people call you? Heather, Hev.

34: Will you talk to the person you like tonight? Doubtful, but the night is still young.

35: Are there any stressful situations in your life? I guess, just normal life stresses.

36: Who did you last share a bed with? Him.

37: Did you do something bad today? Maybe drove over the speed limit a little.

38: When was the last time a member of the opposite sex hugged you? Today, it was my nephew.

39: Do you get stressed out easily? Not anymore.

40: Will you sing today? I did at work.

41: Have you ever wanted to tell someone something but didn’t? Yes.

42: Who do you go to when you need to talk to someone? Friends.

43: Have you ever been taken to the emergency room in an ambulance? No.

44: What are you listening to right now? The TV.

45: What is wrong with you right now? I need a shower.

46: What is on your wrists right now? Nothing.

47: Where did you get the shirt/sweatshirt you’re wearing? T-shirt is from work, hoody is from the Chromatica Ball!

48: What do you like better: hot chocolate or hot apple cider? Neither.

49: Do you make wishes at 11:11? When I see it’s 11:11 I do.

50: Are you a good artist? I’ve drawn some good pictures.

51: Love really is a beautiful thing huh? When its good yes.

52: Do you miss the way things were six months ago? No, because he wasn't back in my life.

53: Ever been on a golf cart? No.

54: Do you have trust issues? Yes.

55: Ever stayed up all night on the phone, with who? No.

56: Do you own something from Hot Topic? I did, I’m not sure I have it anymore.

57: Do you use chap stick? Yes.

58: Have you ever slapped someone in the face? Yes. Very regrettable.

59: Do you have a little sister? No

60: Have you ever been to New York? Yes, twice!

61: Think of the last person who said I love you, do you think they meant it? Yes.

62: Have you hugged someone within the last week? Yes.

63: What were you doing at midnight last night? Sleeping.

64: Have you ever regretted kissing someone? Yes. My ex, we wouldn’t have ended up together if I hadn't kissed him.

65: Is there one person in your life that can always make you smile? Yes, several.

66: Were your last three kisses from the same person? Yes.

67: Have you kissed anyone in the last five days? No.

68: Would you rather sleep with someone else or alone? Someone else.

69: Will next Friday be a good one? No idea.

#questions #about me #questionnaire

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whump-a-la-mode · 3 years

Note

A hero is in a coma. Villain visits them every single day, loosing sleep, not eating, their life is now completely focused around the empty hospital room.

Until hero wakes up and notices how sick villain has become due to anxiety and not taking care of themselves. Caretaking?

This is such a cute ask!! There’s only a little caretaking, but as always I’d be happy to write some more ^^

To all non-Americans out there, I am so sorry for using our weird 12 hour clock in this piece

CW//Comas, medical settings, just some horrible self care, mentions of explosions, bad hygiene, sleep deprivation, low self esteem, blaming self, strong language

“How are they doing?”

The voice alone was enough to make Doctor jump, spinning on their heels with such quickness that their shoes squealed on the tiled hospital floor.

Oh. It was just Villain.

Just Villain. It was a ridiculous thought to have, and they were well aware of that fact. Only a few short weeks ago, the name would have been enough to make any well-minded civilian tremble. It was bad enough, to hear it spoken on the news. Worse, to hear it not coming from a television-- in some cases, that name was all the warning one was given, before a terrible fate befell them. A nameless causality in the never-ending battle of good and evil.

But, now, there was no terror associated with it.

Most hospitals, Doctor was well aware, were fortunate enough that villains did not often pass through their doors. When they did, in the best cases, it was to seek treatment. In the worst cases, they had far more destructive intentions.

Their hospital, however, was an exception. There is a saying, that one can get used to anything, and with their experience, they now believed it to be more than true.

Doctor sighed, letting their shoulders fall.

“Visiting hours are over, Villain. You need to go home.”

The villain’s eyes widened, flickering momentarily to the nearest clock. In fact, it was past the end of visiting hours. Well past. Night rounds were about to begin, even.

It was simply so easy to forget Villain, hunched over in their little plastic chair.

Especially with those big, pathetic eyes with which they regarded Doctor.

“I can’t leave.” They pleaded. “Not yet. Can’t I stay just another hour?”

“No, Villain. We’ve been over this. You can come back tomorrow, bright and early, right at seven.”

“But it’s eleven, now! That’s eight hours. Eight hours they’ll be alone.”

“Not alone.” Doctor bit their lower lip. They knew full well that the person before them could render them to a charred corpse in mere seconds, if they so wished. Their tense, skipping heartbeat wouldn’t let them forget it. But, there was no malice in their eyes. Not an ounce. Only that terrible, pitiful sorrow. The sorrow that never seemed to leave them. “There’s people here, all night. A whole medical staff. If anything happens, they won’t be alone. I promise.”

Villain’s lip quivered. Weren’t they supposed to be dangerous?

“You’re sure I can’t stay? Just another hour?”

“I’m sure.”

“O-Okay.” The villain reached into their shoulder bag, and, for a moment, Doctor nearly pressed the nearest panic alarm. Yet, they withdrew no weapon. Instead, Villain took a small, spiral-bound notebook in hand, offering it. “Here are my notes. Um, just so you know. What they did today.”

Doctor’s gaze downcast to the paper. They already had three of these, piled on their desk. Filled to the brim. This one had only recently been started.

The page the notebook was turned to displayed the same thing as all the rest: Impeccably neat handwriting, dividing the page into half hour blocks. In each, letters of equal quality described the patient’s condition, down to the most minute detail.

3:30 - Minor twitching of the eyelids accompanied by singular irregular heartbeat.

4:00 - No abnormalities.

4:30 - Twitching of left index finger.

5:00 - Abnormal breath at around 5:12.

It was the best-kept record of a comatose patient’s condition that Doctor had ever seen. Even if it wasn’t exactly helpful, with how repetitive the patient’s movements tended to be, it was downright impressive.

“Thank you, Villain. I’ll tell the receptionist to expect you at seven?”

“Is there any chance I could come in earlier than that?”

“No. I’m sorry. Visiting hours start at seven.”

“I’m quiet. You know I’m quiet. I won’t be a bother to anybody.”

“I know, Villain. If...” They knew they needed to say something, or this argument would continue all night long. “If anything happens, we have your number on file. I’ll call you myself.”

“Really?” Their eyes widened. “You promise?”

“I promise. Now, you need to go home.”

“Okay.”

“You won’t hide in the bathroom and try to stay late this time?”

“You saw?”

“Everyone saw, Villain. Now, you’ve gotta skedaddle.”

The villain nodded hesitantly, looking to their shoes as they turned, moving down the hallway. As they left, Doctor could not help but mutter in their wake:

“And get some rest.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Six weeks.

Those two words echoed hollowly in Villain’s mind as they plodded along the damp sidewalk, lit only by the dewy echoes of streetlights overhead. The hour was late enough, and the city tired enough, that the streets were nearly deserted-- a state they were in so very rarely.

Their henchmen had spoken to them so many times, lecturing them that moving through the city’s depths, alone and unprotected, was terribly dangerous. Any hero, or any vigilante too cocky for their own good, could try their luck in an ambush.

But, Villain could hardly bring themself to care.

Six weeks.

That was all they cared about.

Six weeks since Hero had moved. Six weeks since they’d spoken, since they’d awoken. Exactly six, now.

Exactly six weeks since...

Villain’s hands clenched to fists at their sides, overgrown nails digging into the meat of their palms.

Since they’d made the biggest mistake of their life. Since the two sworn nemeses, Hero and Villain, light and dark, good and evil, had had their final battle. An industrial sabotage gone wrong.

They should have known better! Better than to use their pyrokenisis in an oil refinery.

But, that hadn’t. They hadn’t been thinking. They never thought! They were so stupid, so reckless, so careless...

Villain’s ears still rung from the explosion.

Their injuries meant nothing, even as they still throbbed. No. Because, for the last six weeks, they had been awake. Moving. Talking.

Hero hadn’t been so lucky.

When they at last arrived at their HQ, the halls were silent. Life existed only in the form of a scattering of guards, nodding their respects, but making no other gestures.

It was with weary legs that Villain ascended to their bedroom. They hardly noticed its state-- they’d grown used to the scatterings of clothes and papers. Instead, upon opening the door, their eyes snapped to the bed.

More specifically, the item upon it. They rushed to it, yanking it off the mussed blankets.

A book. A note, upon its cover.

“Went to bed before I could give this to you. It’s that book you wanted - Henchman”

Villain removed the note, far more interested in the cover it hid.

A Neurologist’s Guide to Chronic Vegetative States

There were more than enough pages within to last them until sunrise; until visiting hours at last recommenced.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

At 5:40, the sun began its ascent, bathing the sky in a dull hue of blue.

When six o’ clock came, the first rays of light could be seen, flashing over the horizon.

With the strike of 6:10, Villain placed down their book. They were only around halfway through-- wandering eyes and brief minutes of dozing lowering the speed at which their foggy mind could process the medical textbook.

They would have more than enough time to read, the next night. The book didn’t matter. What mattered was that visiting hours would commence in 50 minutes, exactly.

Twenty minutes to walk to the hospital. Meaning that, to get there early, they needed to leave in fifteen.

Rubbing sleep from their eyes, Villain rose from their chair, knees popping and cracking all the way to the bedroom door. Quickly, they changed into the cleanest clothes they could find, if only for the sake of appearances, before heading out.

Showering could wait. Showers took time, time that could be spend watching. Reading. Taking notes.

Helping. Doing anything, anything they could to help.

Emerging into the hallway, they startled a moment. The lights had already been turned on, despite the fact that their henchmen never awoke this early. Perhaps they had simply forgotten to turn them off the night prior.

Yet, there were noises, from downstairs.

There was no fear left in their body to feel. Justifications were quickly made, and they ran down the stairs.

Entering the kitchen, a scent hit Villain, forceful as a gust of wind. The scent of food-- warm and fresh and garnished with garlic.

Before the stove, Henchman stood. Out of all those Villain employed, Henchman was the least likely to be awake at such an hour. Often, they dragged themself from bed well after ten.

Yet, here they stood, flipping a pancake in a skillet.

“Hey, boss.” Their henchman turned, a grin glimmering upon their face. “I’m almost done here. Get yourself something to drink.”

Villain blinked.

“What... are you doing?”

“Making breakfast? I thought that’d be pretty obvious.”

“Yeah, I can see that. But... Why? You never eat breakfast.”

“Yeah. It’s not for me. ‘s for you, boss.”

They shook their head, glancing at the clock. 6:17.

“I’m not hungry. Besides, I really need to get going.”

“Boss.” There was an endeared, yet frustrated, tone to the voice. “When was the last time you ate?”

“You made me eat a granola bar yesterday.”

“And the day before that, you didn’t eat anything. So, you’re eating breakfast, if I have to shove it down your throat.”

They clenched their hands to fists.

“I don’t have time for this! Visiting hours are going to start soon. I need to be there.”

“No. You need to eat. Then you can go to the hospital.”

“You don’t get to decide that. I need to go. I’m sorry.”

“Boss.” Henchman slid the pancake onto a plate before deftly stepping between their boss and the front door. “I don’t mean to be blunt, but you look like hell. I know you haven’t been sleeping. Everyone knows it. If you keep acting like this, you’re going to be the one in a hospital bed.”

Villain gritted their teeth.

“Maybe that’s what I deserve. Now, fuck off. Get someone else to eat your damn pancakes.”

With those words, and furious footsteps, they emerged onto the sidewalk outside.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

When Receptionist arrived at their desk, there was already a patron, sitting in their waiting room.

A few short weeks ago, such would have been unusual. While other parts of the hospital were occupied day and night, the appointments handled by this room did not begin until the hospital actually opened-- right at seven.

Now, though, there was nothing strange about it.

Before they could so much as sit down, Villain was already moving towards them.

Receptionist could not help but note their appearance.

Working in a hospital, they had long since grown used to seeing the sick and injured. And yet, there was something particularly distressing about this case.

They supposed, it was because they had seen it happen. Usually, when patients arrived at the hospital, it was because they could no longer manage their own conditions. Their bodies were in shambles. They showed up in their damaged states.

Villain, on the other hand, had first appeared to the waiting room is relatively good health.

Then, they had begun to appear tired.

And thin.

Now, their appearance matched that of the comatose patient that they were here to see. Skin clung taught about their cheekbones, their flesh pale and eyes glazed over. Most semblances of hygiene had been abandoned entirely; some parts of their hair had even begun to mat, and dirt clung to them like caked and cracked makeup.

But, there was something else in their eyes. The sheer essence of undying compassion.

It was that alone that prevented Receptionist from sending them away.

Villain had no need to speak. As soon as they had time to sit, the hospital employee had paged the proper floor-- a sequence of buttons that had quickly become muscle memory.

“You can go up, now.” They spoke. With a wearied nod, Villain moved to begin their ceaseless watch.

Neither of them could have guessed that, an hour later, the unthinkable would come true.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

When Hero awoke, it was to the sound of a pencil, scratching at paper.

The world filled in with a terrible, exhaustion tedium. Above them, blurs of white and grey turned to a sterile, white tile, while the world about solidified to four pale, beige walls.

A hospital. They’d been in enough to recognize as such, with just how clumsy their teammates tended to be.

But why were they here, now...? Who had gotten hurt, this time? They couldn’t quite remember.

Rolling onto their side, the question was quickly answered.

Villain appeared to be on death’s doorstep, about to press the doorbell. Matted hair clung to their neck, eyes drooping and skin appearing as though there was no blood beneath it at all.

At the very least, they had made it to the hospital before suffering any serious damage.

Wait.

It was only then that Hero realized who exactly was in the room’s hospital bed.

#villain whumpee #hero whumpee #hero villain whump #whump #whumpblr #whump community

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pianorexic000 · 3 years

Text

Sweetspo Saturday

Hi y’all, so today is sweetspo Saturday.......

it speaks for itself. By the way, none of these are mine. I take no credit I have 0 creativity.

I dream of collarbones and thigh gaps, of hips jutting out and ribs just visible, casting shadows on porcelain flesh. I dream of crop tops and denim shorts, of thigh highs and sugar highs. And when I lay in bed at night, counting the calories of the day before my mind can’t help but wander, and I press into my doughy stomach, feel the hips hiding underneath, and remind myself how far I’ve come, and how far I still have to go.

Please listen, I know, I know it’s hard but listen, focus, you, you the most beautiful person on this whole entire planet you are going to make it, I promise you sweetheart, you’re going to make it. Think about it, think about how skinny you’ll be, how happy you will be, how you are going to be able to wear what you want, how you are going to be able to eat what you want and no one is going to make you feel bad for eating, no one. They’re going to be jealous, so fucking jealous, jealous of how you look and how you feel. They’re going to envy you. So stand up, keep your pretty head up and go. Exercise, drink water, eat less, eat healthy, sleep, do yoga, dance around. Get skinny and be finally happy. Please be finally happy.

You’ve been so disappointed in yourself lately. You’ve cursed those girls with a fast metabolism and regretted so much, sweetie. Countless of times you’ve thought, planned and wished to be skinny. I know you want this so badly, honey. But it’s never going to be given to you, sugar. You have to work for it and make yourself proud! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و

I know you’re very impatient with your weight-loss. You want to lose it NOW and would do anything to wake up tomorrow at you ugw. But that’s never going to happen, doll. It’ll take time, but you will get there, sweetie. You just have to be persistent and never give up. The road is very long, and there will be days where it’ll feel hopeless, angel. But i promise you that those days where you feel incredibly sexy and comfortable in your own skin are just around the corner. You’ll get there baby, but it’ll take time. So don’t beat yourself up.

You’ll look good in everything; you remember that bikini with the cute print? yes, you’ll look beautiful in it. you won’t look like a fat pig.

people will be jealous; they’ll envy you. you’ll become thinner while others are getting fatter.

you’ll be dainty; you’ll be the lightest in the room. everyone will be able to pick you up effortlessly.

others will compliment you; people will look at you and say “wow, have you lost weight?” “you look great!” “i wish i looked like you.”

you won’t be able to keep more than a cup of food down; you’ve trained your body, you and your body both know its limits.

you’ll have power; you can can control how you look, you’ll have control. self control instead of eating everything in sight. you’ll be proud when you refuse a chocolate bar someone is offering.

are you going to keep saying “i’ll do it tomorrow”

or are you going to start today?

you’ll get there sweetie, make them regret the day they dare call you fat; they’ll start talking GOOD behind your back; “she is losing so much weight omg” “ i wanna look like her.” “im so jealous of her tiny waist.”

make it happen, you cause the gain of weight

and the loss of weight.

It's Okay!

You were really bad this weekend weren’t you? You ate fatty food and cheated on your diet? I know you bash yourself for pushing yourself further from your goal, but it was just Easter and you were enjoying spending time with your family. Unfortunately that included eating. Thin is all you think about cutie, why would you stuff your face uncontrollably like that, sugar? You can’t stop now, i know it’s hard but it’ll be worth it in the end.

Meanspo

Dear You,

You’ve grown up being the “big” girl. You’ve grown up being the “I want seconds” girl. You entered college being the “let’s eat out because it’s easier” girl.

When will you be the “I eat healthy” girl? The “people can pick me up” girl? The “I love my body” girl?

Today? Oh, right, you say tomorrow. Funny, that’s what you said yesterday.

It’s YOUR fault you’re fat. You don’t control your fatty urges to binge and stuff your face. One day, you’ll regret that. And that day is TODAY. If you regret it, then make a change. Skip that meal. Eat less calories. Exercise and burn what you have consumed and stored from your past pathetic eating habits. Get rid of your fatty urges. BECOME SKINNY…Become beautiful. Because if you don’t start today, you’ll only hate yourself tomorrow… again.

Do it. Do it so you can wear cute short shorts without everyone looking at your thighs and being disgusted.

Do it for that bitch who always called you fat at middle school.

Do it for that fuckboy who never looked at you as girlfriend potencial.

Do it so you can be confident.No seriously you’ll never be confident with that big tummy dude.

Do it so you don't ALMOST DIE in fitting rooms.

Do it for the cute clothes.

Do it for the summer.

Do it for the pool parties and how all of your friends will be SHOOK at your perfect body.

Do it for that life little baby. You deserve it. You deserve so much happiness.

Imagine you’re sitting at your desk in your perfectly decorated bedroom. You’re doing school work (all A’s of course), and since the lighting is good, you stop studying for a second and take a selfie.

You notice your collarbones are perfectly peaking out, and your chest bones are slightly visible. You have no makeup on but you still look absolutely gorgeous. Your flawless skin (that you got from not eating junk food all the time) looks great on your camera. Your thin arms look especially toned in this picture, and your smile is unforgettable.

You decide to post it to Instagram, and it instantly gets likes and comments saying how gorgeous you look. You want to keep studying…but the amount of likes and attention is distracting!

You think to yourself “Amazing how my life has changed. 30lbs ago I barely got 30 likes. My grades were bad and I had horrible acne…it’s so great what being thin can do to a person”

One day I won’t have to suck in

One day I’ll sit down and not have belly rolls

One day my thighs won’t touch

One day I’ll be able to see my ribs

One day I’ll step on the scale and smile

One day I’ll be able to smile at my protruding collar bones

One day I’ll wear the clothes I want

One day I’ll be confident

One day I’ll be skinny

do it for the boy who leaves your snapchats at read. imagine how quickly he’ll reply when he sees how good you look in your new body. do it for the girls you envy, the girls who show up in crop tops and short shorts whilst you hide behind a baggy sweater. imagine how proud you’ll feel when you can finally wear what you want and look just as good, if not better than them. do it for the people who bullied you about your weight and the boys who turned you down because of it. watch them gawk and whisper among themselves at how much weight you’ve lost. do it for the mean girls, the ones that walk around school like they own the place, the ones who’s parties you never get invited to, the ones that all the boys want. prove yourself to them. soon they’ll notice you and you’ll be too proud to care. own your new found confidence, throw your own parties, feel wanted. do it for the boy you’ve been crushing on since the first time you met. make him want you just as you wanted him. laugh at yourself as he chases after you. watch him suffer just as you did. do it for the bikini you’ve never had the body to wear. make your old self proud. wear that bikini. finally feel good in it. go to the beach and the pool and show it off. it belongs on you. do it for yourself. do it for your own happiness and do it right now. you deserve this. it might take some time and maybe you’re growing impatient. but it’s okay, everything good takes time. so be safe, stay strong, and don’t give up. this will be worth the wait. trust me.

I literally cannot fucking wait until I’m thin. I can’t wait to not feel like the outsider in my friend group. I can’t wait to not feel like the ugly friend. I can’t wait to be as thin as my best friend and for people to not see me as a charity case. I can’t wait to be able to go shopping and not worry about what will hide my fat. I can’t wait to see my collarbones and feel great in shorts. I can’t wait to be able to post selfies confidently from any angle and get as many likes as all the thin girls from school. I can’t wait to be someone else’s thinspo. I can’t wait to be happy with myself. I can’t wait to be thin.

Okie lovey, I know you might have had a rough couple of days or maybe you’ve been doing everything right and you just need a little pick me up. That’s okay too. I’m here for you, maybe not there physically but I’m still here. Make some tea, and take a bath; while you’re in there light a few candles and take time for yourself. Paint your nails read a book or simply think about bettering yourself. You’re almost there, I’m so excited for you! I’m going to be there when you cross that finish line (UGW). Finished with tea? Are you hungry? No. Exactly, chin up sweetheart, you got this. I love you

10 Reasons I want to be Thin

1. A flat stomach looks so good in anything. 2. No more armpit fat. 3. Finally have a thigh gap (again). 4. Feel beautiful and in control 5. people you already know will ask you how you did it, new people you meet will fall in love with you. 6. Go on adventures and have fun without worrying about your fat jiggling around. 7. Tan outside or at the lake without wanting to die because you’re too fat for a bikini. 8. Going out to parties and making friends because you’re confident and beautiful. 9. Not wanting to cry every time you see your full body in a mirror/ reflection. 10. Not crying in general anymore. Finally being happy.

11 Reasons Why I'm Doing This

1. To be the skinny friend

2. So I can be lifted up and be called light

3. To wear anything and still look cute

4. To have pretty bones to show off

5. To hear those words; ‘Have you lost weight?’

6. To not feel guilty when having a sweet treat (occasionally!)

7. To wear tight jeans and not have a muffin top

8. To not want to cry every time I look in the mirror

9. To not feel embarrassed in a bikini or swimsuit

10. To sit on someone’s lap without fear of crushing them

11. To finally feel happy with myself

They are in the kitchen making dinner. It smells so good, and all you want to do is have some. But would that make you happy? Would that food actually do anything for you? Sure, it would taste good. But as soon as you swallow, it would be gone. You’d take a drink of water, and the taste would wash away. Five minutes of fun, and then you’d be full. Full of food, regret, hate, shame, and disgust. Today would be yet another day wasted. So go ahead, eat the food. Be the fat tub of lard you always have been. Or don’t. Don’t eat the food. Be a day closer to your goal.

The choice is yours.

#sweetspo #proana #anorexia #edthings

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anne-white-star · 3 years

Text

Brian may x reader x roger taylor : holiday disaster

Notes : brian roger and reader are on a holliday near the sea swimming and relaxing. But the calm and peacefull holiday turns to one of worry when reader almost drowns because of a big wave crashing in to her. Takes place during the mid 80s. There might be inacuresies like distance and locations.

Sorry if its a mess but enjoy anyway, also don't mind any spelling mistakes thank you

Words: 2286

Warings : angst and drowning

Finaly summer and you know what that means. Nice weather, staying up late listening to music. And just playing around in general, but summer also ment swimming of course.

Y/n had invited Brian and roger along to go to the beach. John had gone away with his wife on holyday while Freddie stayed at home with his boyfriend jim.

She stood outside freddie's house where they spent the night prior and beeped the horn of her car.

Freddie opend up the window "Oh y/n are you here to pick up roger and Brian?"

"Yes i am we are suposed to go to the beach, could you sent them down?"

"Yeah sure, hey! Your taxi is here you better hurry up And don't keep the lady waiting! They are on their way" he smiled

"Thanks Fred, if i find some Nice shels i take them with me for you"

"Thank you y/n you are an absolute sweetheart" he blew her a kiss. At that moment both Brian and roger walked out the front door and placed their stuff in the back of the car. "Ah there They are".

Jim stood behind Freddie and waved "have fun you three and stay safe near the shore, they said that the waves could be quite high at this time of year".

"Don't worry we will be fine"

"Alright have fun" jim and Freddie closed the window.

"Hey boys" she grind and opend the pasenger side door. Brian sat down next to her.

"Hello y/n"

"Hello doll" said roger as he sat down behind her and kissed her cheek "Nice car"

"Thanks Roger it was my dad's car i got it for my birthday a year ago

"Oh Nice do you know what type it is?"

"If im correct its a Tri-Power… 1958 Bonneville convertible" she started the car and drove of towards the beach (idk where the beach is located but lets pretent its 30 minuts away or so)

"Oh verry Nice indeed" he said and placed his sunglasses on his face And leaned back against the Seat.

"So did you two have a good night at Fred his home?"

This time Brian spoke up "yeah it was alright we watched some telly and drank and eat some Nice food thats all."

"Hmm intresting you two wernt intruding to fred and jim their relation ship wernt you two?"

"Oh god no y/n"

"Just joking bri just joking" she laught, y/n focused on the road again "we will be there in 10 minuts i think"

"Yes finaly swimming"

"Calm down roger" Brian laught

Just as y/n had promiced they had arived in 10 minuts at the beach "We have arived". Roger jumped over the side of the car and grabed the beach ball and placed it in the sand. He pulled his shirt and pants off under it weren his swimming trunks. Brian and y/n did the same. (What you Brian and roger wear )

"Nice shorts guys" she huged Brian from behind

"Looking very Nice yourself princess"

"Why thank you" she plucked the sunglasss from roger his face and put them on "oh wow thats to mutch"

Roger grabed his glases from her hands and put them back on "that are my presciption sunglasses sweetheart"

"I should have known, Anyway lets go and play some beach vollyball"

"Alright who against who?"

"Um me against roger first and then you against roger and then me against you, how does that sound?"

"Sure sounds good, i'll keep the points"

"Alright" y/n nodded and waited thil roger was ready "you are going so down blondie"

"Ha! You think (your nickname)"

"Alright start" y/n trew up the ball and shot it over the net. It went a few times and then she shot it to the ground.

"Outch"

"Roger are you alright?"

"Yeah i am don't worry" he smiled. Once the game between y/n and roger was over she won with 5 against 3.

"Alright your turn brian" brian took her place and took his stand. "Ready?"

"Yep" he nodded

"Alright may the best win"

"Its on poodle"

"Hey! Oh you are so going to get it rog" he smirked

The boys played for about 6 minuts thill it was over. It was 4 against 4.

"Alright who makes the next point wins" they both noded, Brian threw up the ball over the net. It went over and over for about 1 minut. Roger won

"Yes!"

"Well done rog, now you and me bri" they both took their stands once again and started the game. Once again 6 minuts later the game was over Brian had won by 5 against 3

"Good game y/n" he smiled

"Thanks" she wiped her face with a towel "Man its really hot ugh"

"Want to go swimming?"

Y/n took off her hat and placed it in her car "Yes i would love to" they all walked to the sea. "Cold cold cold"

Both Brian and roger laughed "yeah no shit y/n"

"Shut up rog" she laughed and splased him

"Hey! My hair, you are going to pay"

"Then you have to get me first." She ran further in to the water

"Be carefull the waves can be quite high" but y/n and roger dint hear him "guys come back don't go to far!"

Y/n had gone in thil her shoulders "try to get me now roger!"

"Roger she really needs to come back" Brian looked concerned

"Y/n! Come back its not save!"

"What?!" All of a sudden a big shadow fell over her, a big wave crashed in to her taking her under.

"Y/n!!" Both roger and Brian screamed as they tried to get to her

Y/n tried to swim up but couldnt wave after wave crashed in on her. She tried to breath but instead she took a big gulp of water in. Y/n was panicking and couldnt breath. She thought of brian and roger how she was going to leave them behind now. Y/n let go of her last breath as the sank to the bottom.

Roger and brian swam to her once they reached her, roger went under and picked her out the water. Both Brian and roger got back to the shore "brian go get help i try cpr we need a ambulance" Brian nodded and ran to get help

"God y/n please don't die on us" roger was literaly crying while trying to push the life back in to her chest. He pinched her nose close and put mouth to mouth "come on! You can't do this to us" all the while he continued to give her cpr.

The sound of sirens filled the air as the ambulance came to a hald on the beach two paremedics climbed out. At the same time Brian ran back to roger "is she alright?!"

"No i still don't have a respond" roger was crying But still preforming cpr

"We will take it from here sir" both the paremedics placed her on the brancard and started to weel her fast to the ambulance

"Can we come with you please?"

"If you drive after us then its fine but we can't take you with us in the ambulance

"Thank you" roger looked up "brian you need to drive i can't"

"Alright, but calm down now roger she's in good hands" Brian huged roger close and rubbed his back "im concerned to but y/n is one tough cookie"

Roger laught a bit " yeah she is..... we should go now" they both walked to the car Brian put the key in and turned it so they went after the ambulance. Once they arived they weeled her in to a hospital room.

In the back of the ambulance they were able to pump the water out of her lungs and get her to breath again, she wasn't conciouse but it was a good sign or so they hope.

Roger and Brian had to wait outside the room where y/n lay because they were doing some tests on her, so they decided to call John and Freddie

"Hello John deacon speaking"

"Hey John its me"

"Oh hey Brian hows everything?"

"It really could be better, we are at the hospital"

John sat up straight "hospital? Why whats wrong?"

"Its Y/n she almost drowned" it was silence on the other end "john?"

"Im on my way right now" and the phone hang up

He turned to roger "john is on his way can you call Freddie?"

"Sure" roger grabed the phone from Brian his hand and dialed Freddie his number

It rang a few times thill he picked up "with freddie Mercury how can i help you?"

"Oh fred thank god you are still home"

"You sound panicked roger whats wrong?"

"We are in the hospital, we were at the beach and we were messing around but y/n almost drowned because of our stuppid antics and..... we almost lost her"

As same with John, roger was met by silence "me and jim are on our way"

"Thanks you see you then"

About 20 minuts later john, Freddie and jim had arived at the hospital, they were waiting for the doctor to give a clear sign so that they could go in and see her.

A doctor walked in to the waiting room "wel we have good news and bad news, the good news is we managed to get all the water out of her lungs and she's breathing on her own, the bad news is that she's still unconsiouse"

"Oh thank goodness" brian placed a hand over his heart

"We did a couple of tests to see if there was anything ells like damege to the lungs but thats not the case, once she wakes up And taken care off she can go home"

"Thank you doctor, may we please see her?"

"Of course, if there is anything needed let us know"

"Thank you we will" the group walked in to the room, it was pretty light in there, it looked like they had walked in to heaven, John and Brian grabed a chair and sat down next to the bed while roger, Jim and freddie sat down at the table near the window.

"We should never have gone to the beach, this is all my fault"

"Roger don't be to harsh on yourself, it could have happend to anyone" Freddie placed his hand on Roger his shoulder

"But im the idiot who chased her in, im at fault"

Brian spoke up "rog it really isnt we all should have been more carefull, but like the doctor said everything will be alright, she just needs to wake up, and she will we just got to wait"

"Mabey you are right" he sighed and placed his hand under his chin and looked out the window.

A few hours had gone by without any indecation of her yet waking up, so they decided to leave and get some food, during the time they were gone y/n started to stire and wake up

"Ugh were am i? Why does my chest hurt so mutch" y/n blinked a few times against the light "this isnt my bedroom" she tried to sit up but couldnt because of the pain, plastic patches were put on her chest that were conected to the heart monitor she looked at them confused "what the hell happend?" Then y/n remembered, the beach, vollyball and roger chasing her and then the wave...."Oh god i almost drowned"

Then the door opend And the guys walked in with food and drinks, Brian looked up from the conversation "y/n you are awake!" He ran to her side and grabed her hand in his "we were so worried about you"

"Hey bri" She smiled softly "im sorry for worrying you all i dint mean for this to happen"

Roger stoot at the otherside of the bed and grabed her other hand "i shouldnt have chased you in to the water it was dangerous and i was so stuppid for doing so it almost got you killed"

"I know rog and im sorry to i should have watched out What i was doing" she squeezed their hands and gave a light kiss on them

John, jim and Freddie watched as they gave echoter their apolgies, and then the doctor walked in "ah miss y/l/n good to see that you are awake" he looked at the papers in his hand "everything seems to be in oder, do your lungs hurt?"

"A tiny bit but i asume it will go away in a few days"

"Yes it wil" he gave a smile "wel then if everything is alright and nothing hurts then you may go home"

"Really? Oh thats wonderfull thank you" then she looked down at her chest and pointed at patches that were still in its place "um about these"

"Oh don't worry a nurse will come soon and remove them for you"

"Alright thank you". About 10 minuts later the nurse came in to remove the patches, john freddie and jim had brought some clothes with them on their way to the hospital, once she got dressed they went on their way to go home "are you willing to drive Brian?"

"Yes of course i am, anything for you y/n". Roger went again with Brian and y/n while Jim and Freddie went with john.

"Wel see you all later i think its time for a lazy afternoon" said y/n as she waved them goodbye. Both roger and Brian stayed the night with her to make sure that everything would be going fine now. They promiced echoter that of they would go to the beach again one day that they would be more carefull.

The end

I hope you all enjoyed reading. ��️♥️♥️

#brian may x reader #roger taylor x reader #name insert #Freddie Mercury #John deacon #brian may #roger taylor #jim hutton #bohrap fanfic #bohemian rhapsody imagine #gwilym lee x reader #ben hardy x reader #angst #tw drowning #brian may x reader x roger taylor #gwilym lee x reader x ben hardy

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comehomeducklings · 3 years

Text

Past [Part 2] (Obsession)

A/N: Some chapters will be named with either “Past,” “Present,” or “Future,” then their numbered part coming right after it. This is to confuse you less when flashbacks or anything happens. As you have probably noticed, it says “Past” for Part 2. This is going back near when Tom and her just met. Thank you for reading! <3

Tom Riddle's Moodboard

Main Character's Moodboard

~////////////////𓆙////////////////~

1940 - 3rd year

“Potions is not that bad, I swear. You just have to be good at measuring.”

At the table, my friends and I are discussing our classes this year. Potions being one of my favorite topics. Devyn absolutely loathes that certain class. We have to drag her there to make sure she doesn’t skip. Poor girl tries her best to not mess up but the cauldron always ends up blowing up. I even watched her do every step once, never missing a beat. The potion still ended up failing, even though she did everything correctly. She gave up after a while, who wouldn’t. I help her do extra assignments for extra credit to keep her grade up. She also studies with me to make sure she can memorize everything and pass her tests. Amelia is pretty good at the class, she’s luckily paired with Devyn most of the time. Carrying the potion to success, with a little bit of my secret help. It’s not cheating, it’s using your resources.

I’m resources.

“Potions is not that bad,” Devyn mocks me. “If it weren’t for you two I would have gone insane in that stupid class.”

Amelia just laughs at her while eating her hash browns on the plate. She reaches her hand out to take some more eggs.

“You were able to do it before. Not the way you were supposed to, but it worked,” Amelia says.

“Exactly, just start doing it your way at this point. I don’t think Slughorn will care how it’s done, just how it comes out.”

Devyn nods her head and points at me with a fork. Her mouth full of food so she settles for that response. My plate doesn’t have much other than some bacon and fruit. I’m not usually a breakfast eater. I get my appetite at lunch and dinner time. It’s just too early for a bunch of food smells, the smells make me kind of nauseous. I’ll eat though, enough to hold me off till lunch.

The chatter in the lunchroom rises by the minute. Everyone refilling themselves before their busy day. All energy levels rising while everyone wakes up from their groggy morning mood. While my friends finish eating we continue to talk about our classes and share the schedules for this year. Most classes we had were the same except for our electives. I tried taking as many electives as possible. My family back home never really did magic. I actually came a year and a half late since my family wanted me to have a normal school experience. I learned to do everything without the use of magic, the only thing my mom taught me was the floo network, creatures, and plants. I would often accompany her to Diagon Alley when she shops. I got an Owl for my 10th birthday. A cat would have been amazing if I wasn’t allergic to it. My owl is a brown and white-furred barn owl. Don’t ask me why I named it Bartholomew. I was ten okay, give me a break. Speaking of the floo network, my mom had to chase me through it quite often because I kept teleporting everywhere. I once ran into the Ministry of Magic’s building and got lost. They had to take me home to my parents. Their faces told me everything I needed to know about the punishment waiting for me.

Halfway through the second year is when I came to Hogwarts, a second letter coming that year asking my parents to let me learn more there. So when they finally let me attend, everything was pretty new to me. My mother was the magic one in the family. Her grandmother, my great-grandmother, before her had the magic gene. Going to school was the same experience as going from a muggle-borns perspective. The difference is, I knew more about its existence. I would look at yearbooks my mom had from when she went here. She earned a lot of titles, all the achievements being recorded down. I always wondered why she never wanted me to come here. Did something happen to me, to her? I’m guessing she just wanted a normal life with dad. He has always supported her through everything. A love, a bond like that is hard to come by. He would also learn about magic right next to me. At least, the stuff my mom allowed to let us know.

That’s why I want to learn as much as I can, of what’s available. Why learn math in the muggle world when I could be learning divination. Spells of all types, potions for everything of inconvenience. My chores could be completed with just a flick of my wand. I’ve lately been learning wandless magic, on my own. Albus has helped by providing me with material to study that type of magic. The only thing I’ve managed so far is a spark coming from the tips of my fingertips. Sparking hope that I could actually, maybe, achieve that level. Now I won't get my hopes up, but that can lead me to a certain advantage in dueling. That being one of my weakest skills. Always panicking, saying any spells that pop up in my mind, and making random movements coming from my wand. Often confusing who I’m up against, although they recover from that confusion fairly quickly.

Riddle, met him once. One too many if you would ask me. I dissuade ever wanting to speak to him. Arrogance and pride flow through his tongue like second nature. I do take pride in succeeding above him in 3 classes. He is 2 classes above me but, that’s not the point. I do admit, he’s attractive. Only a little though, how else would he charm his way through the professors and students.

“Alright, I’m ready to go. You guys done?”

“Yeah,” I say. Devyn and I start leaving our seats and heading towards the huge doors.

Amelia hurried from her seat, a few steps behind since she took some fruit with her to eat on the way. More and more students also started making their way towards the first period. Not wanting to be blamed for the loss of house points. This system causes so many fights, everyone’s competitive side getting the best of their common sense. I would be lying if I said it didn’t get the best of me before. Amelia being her usual bubbly self skips backward while chatting with us. Before we could warn her to stop, she pushes someone ahead of her. Both falling down, hitting the floor. She spins her head extremely quickly, her hair sticking in her mouth from the force of the wind.

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention,” she explains. Quickly trying to digest her situation. I make my way towards her and pull her up. I fix her robe and dust off any dirt on the cloth from the floor.

“Clearly idiot, can you not use those bug eyes of yours to see?”

Devyn and I make eye contact. We understand that there are witnesses here, and one of them is bound to snitch on us if we fight. A huge scene would probably make Amelia feel even more embarrassed as well. Instead, I guided Amelia by her back. We continue on to class while I comfort her. Devyn is staying back to “talk” to the guy. Lestrange is in for it now, any poor soul would be when in the fiery path of her anger.

Devyn’s loud yells could still be slightly heard when entering the potions classroom. First class of the year, and day. On Slughorn’s table, I can see a vial with the wideye potion contained inside. I set Devyn’s textbook on her station, turning to the page that contains information on the potion. Hoping to save her confusion and time.

“Welcome, welcome! Nice to see some old faces, and new ones,” he says with the biggest grin on his face. “Today we’ll be learning about the Wideye potion. Can anyone tell me what this potion does?”

I quickly raise my hand, rather eager. I did some reading about a lot of potions during the summer. Trying to get a headstart on my studies. This potion being one of them. Only 3 students raised their hand, one of them being me. The other, well, Riddle.

“Yes, go ahead and answer,” the professor looks my way.

I smile, “The wideye potion prevents the person consuming the liquid the ability to fall asleep. Which is often used in the medical field to wake someone from a sleep caused by a blunt force or drug.”

“Precisely! 10 points.”

I look back rather smugly at Riddle, rather happy I got chosen instead of him. I know, he could have easily answered that too. I’ll let myself bask in the small achievement for now. 30 minutes of class is just spent writing down notes, preparing us for the potion we will make. Note-taking is my favorite, especially the little doodles I get to make. We use a feather instead of the regular pen. I found it rather amusing and liked the certain feeling of writing with it. The dipping noise that the point of the feather makes when hitting the liquid ink is a very profound sound. No real writer’s bump forming on my fingers.

“That’s enough writing, I need you all to prepare your cauldron, gather the materials you need, and start your potion. If done correctly, tomorrow when we add the finishing touches and check on it the potion should be a blue/green color,” Slughorn comments. “You have 10 minutes to study your notes, then the rest of the class to make your potion. No looking back at your notes after those ten minutes.”

After scanning my notes, I stand up and walk towards the ingredients on the shelves. If I remember correctly my potion requires snake fangs, standard ingredient, and wolfsbane. I gather all that in my hand and set it down near my cauldron. Before I start, I take a moment. I’m missing something, I’m sure there was another ingredient.

Wolfsbane, check.

Snake fangs, six of them.

I have the measures of Standard ingredient.

There’s one more, I try to look around the room. Then I remember that we get an automatic failing grade if caught cheating. There’s no way I’ll let my grade drop like that. Over something so small and inconvenient too. Making my way to the shelves, I scan over the ingredients over and over again. Trying to see if any of the names pop out to me.

No.

Definitely not.

That’s an ingredient?

I don’t even want to know how that one was obtained.

This one, of course it’s this one. I even remember putting a star next to the name in my notebook. Dried Billwig stings, I believe six of them were needed. All that time wasted. Hurrying to my seat I get to work. The time goes by quickly, all that could be heard was the sizzling and whooshing of our potions. I almost knocked down my vials a couple of times. Someone actually did, their time spent on cleaning the glass off the floor. After heating the first three ingredients, I crush them together in the mortar. Then stir clockwise from what I recall, three times specifically. Finally, I wave my wand over then leave it to brew.

Just in time from the looks of it. I glance at Devyn to see how it went for her, and she looks pretty proud of herself. I take that as a blessing that it didn’t blow up this time of round. I’m guessing she took our advice and did it her own way.

A student raises his hand, “May we leave?”

“Oh yes yes, go ahead. No assignments for the first day, only the potion you made in class.”

Before I leave the classroom I examine Riddle’s station. He already left the room. His potion looks similar to how mine turned out, his workspace thoroughly cleaned. Everything used properly placed back to where it should be. Perfectly spotless, not a single speck of dust in sight. All done without magic too, surprising for someone born into the wizarding world. When I mentioned that I met him once, it wasn’t much of anything. The only way I know how he really acts is through other people. Much admire his intelligence and strong will. Others are jealous of the potential he holds for the future.

Girls are already trying to slip love potions into his drinks. I would feel bad if he wasn’t so rude to them. Only just before touching the disrespectful line. He almost drank one of their attempts before. Wouldn’t want to imagine how that turned out. Tom riddle, in love. That man probably doesn’t know the feeling of happiness, let alone love. I feel bad for his future girlfriend, she’s going to have to deal with a handful of baggage.

~////////////////𓆙////////////////~

“How much do you want to bet Nott will demolish him?” A Gryffindor girl to my left whispers.

Nott, part of Riddle’s group from what I’ve seen. They all eat lunch together and talk to one another so it’s a reasonable guess. Very talented duellist, one of the bests here.

“I hate to admit it, but he’ll definitely win this. I’ll still have hope for the other guy though,” I whisper back trying not to sound mean.

Nott and the other Slytherin boy are up right now. It’s a courtesy for the audience to stay quiet until someone casts the first attack or defense. From then on all you will hear is shouting of encouragement and the opposite. Nott’s eyes are focused, zoning in on the opponent before him. His wand is steady, mouth slightly parted to breathe through better. Whole-body alert and tense waiting for something. From what I'm getting, I believe he’s waiting for the Slytherin boy to go first. Nott casts spells quickly and thinks them through decently. Sometimes you're not able to create a counter-spell quick enough to defend yourself against him.

Riddle’s group and himself are near the corner of the platform. All seemingly analyzing every breath he inhales and exhales. I finally hear the whoosh of a wand and a whiz of light fly past the platform. The glow from the spell lighting our faces for a millisecond. Nott quickly counters that spell and moves to cast his own. Magic flies across the platform, all of our eyes going back and forth like a ping-pong match. The Slytherin boy starts breaking a sweat. He’s only been able to get a couple of offensive spells in there, most of his plays spent throwing off Nott’s. If he doesn’t turn the battle soon, the outcome will become very clear.

It is a little less exciting since we only know a handful of spells. So whatever you know from your own studies you use in these duels. When we move up the years the class will become more serious and dangerous. Right now it’s just to teach us how to counter and cast quickly. The proper etiquette and movement. You use spells that you know, they aren’t supposed to harm someone. Either stun them, make them fly back, or disarm. Most of those spells require a little of a higher level, most of us not even knowing of its existence yet. So what’s mostly cast between competitors is a basic spell to exert force. That force should be aimed for the legs, or the wand to disarm that way. The way someone can win here is to make their knees or hands touch the floor, or disarm their wand. As I mentioned, it will get more intense as time goes by. We're only just starting 3rd year right now, a lot more charms will be learned later on.

I shake my head to get rid of any lingering thoughts. My attention goes right back to the duel taking place in front of me. Nott quickly aims a spell at the knees and manages to bring the other boy to his knees.

“Mr. Nott wins this duel! Please step off the platform, we will evaluate your performance.”

During the practice duels today, you watch it, think of ways to help the person improve, and point out things they might have done wrong. At the end, the professor picks people raising their hands to allow them to give their feedback. Participating is part of the grade you get in here. I personally prefer giving feedback then dueling. I’m not the best at casting, I do give out good defense spells though. That should mean something, I hope.

“Let’s start with Nott, does anyone have feedback for him?”

A couple of people spread apart raised their hands. One by one they all ask questions and give feedback. They mention his feet and posture when he stands. Arms fully stretched out where it would have been more flexible to bend it slightly. When he casts he shouldn’t be walking backward. They shortly switch to the other boy’s questions and feedback. The way he never gave himself the opening to cast an offensive spell often. He would move around his area a lot. Almost slipping off the stage during one of those movements. Tom and his group privately discussed with one another. They’re probably giving Nott their own feedback and suggestions privately.

“Now, Riddle I want you to come up and…,” he scans the room for another student. After some time he points his finger at me. “You.”

I could have had a smooth sailing class. I was so close to not having to go up there. My hands start sweating a bit, my anxiety jumbling my thoughts together. Riddle’s already up there and soon to be on his side of the platform. Taking his wand out and wandering his fingers over the design. I gulp, a big toad stuck in my throat. I wipe my hands on my robe and start up the stairs. Riddle seems as unbothered as ever. We bow, turn, then walk ten paces back. During this time I try predicting who will cast first. I don’t know him very well, I’ve also never seen him duel.

I take my dueling stance and wait for the signal to start. Hoping, praying, that I don’t embarrass myself. Slipping up is not allowed, not when going against him.

~////////////////𓆙////////////////~

Taglist:

@empath-bunny

#tom riddle x oc #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle x reader #lord voldemort #death eaters #voldemort #horcrux #hogwarts #harry potter #wizard #post wizarding war #enemies to allies #enemies to lovers #angst #oc #poc #Oc is any race #moldy voldy

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internalsealpanic · 4 years

Text

Better Die Than Doubt

Summary: You wince knowing he’s already noticed. You feel the tiniest bit more at ease as he approaches your booth but it didn’t stop your eyes from flickering and searching for something off in the environment. The creeping sense of being watched trails up your spine. You’re sure.

A/n: To no one’s shock, this entire fic was unplanned. I was possessed by the urge to make it (translation: I got the urge to write this and one of my enablers said do it). This story should be treated more or less as a horror story. Nothing is being glorified here except how dorky Jason is. That being said, PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS. This fic contains quite a few triggering things and I really don’t want you to be blindsided. Also thanks to @knightfall05x for helping me write this whole thing. Thanks to @batarella (HOE) for action writing tips.

Warnings: graphic violence, stalking, emotional manipulation, unhealthy coping mechanisms, drugging, nongraphic description of rape, and rape aftermath

masterlist

You press the heels of your palms into your eyes. You could practically feel the oncoming headache the way you could sense someone coming down the hall. This is what happens when you’re running on just 5 hours of restless sleep for the last few days. This headache was also not helped by the fact that this was your fifth coffee in the past 30 minutes. You probably should not be drinking this much caffeine this late but intelligent decisions weren’t exactly your strong suit this week. You rub the sides of your forehead feeling another wave of nausea.

You check the time again and groan. It’s been one-and-a-half hours since your agreed upon time had lapsed and yet one Jason Peter Todd was nowhere to be seen. You curse, nerves edging, and mind fraying. To be perfectly fair to him, he is a busy guy, vigilante, and all. You understood that fairly well- and this was sudden to say the least. You can’t really fault him for being a bit late but the long wait was ratcheting up your anxiety. Again, the coffee didn’t help but considering it was the only thing you could keep down since last night, you didn’t have much choice.

Last night.

Your stomach tumbled. You cup your hand over your mouth feeling your coffee traveling back up your esophagus. You let out a long exasperated breath, letting yourself sink into the booth. You look out the window, eyes flickering wildly searching for Jason. Your hands tighten around your mug. The feeling of being watched made you bristle.

Jason, well, Jason wasn’t hard to spot. The man was 6 feet 4 inches of pure muscle and leather. Having a handsome face and a ‘fuck you’ look in his eyes also helped. In short, the man was hard to ignore. You wave weakly to him as he dismounts his bike, a gesture far too small for your usual bombastic self. Jason’s smarmy smile greets you as he returns the gesture with his gloved hand. The motion is slow and cautious, rickety in a way. You wince knowing he’s already noticed. You feel the tiniest bit more at ease as he approaches your booth but it didn’t stop your eyes from flickering and searching for something off in the environment. The creeping sense of being watched trails up your spine. You’re sure.

“Jesus, y/n, you look like Timbo” Jason chuckles sliding into the booth his green eyes shining with scrutiny. You look at him flatly not having enough energy to properly respond to his jab. He winces seeing your lack of reaction. “Rough night, huh?” He asks flagging down a waitress, who looked quite pleased to get away from her previous table.

You nod weakly, slowly as if the fact that it had been a rough couple of days had just sunk in. “Yeah,” you reply, your voice small and a little threadbare. You drum your fingers against your increasingly cold mug. The waitress sets a couple of warm mugs in front of you. Her soft smile makes you uneasy. You and Jason mutter a thanks as she tells you to wave her over if you need anything else. Her warm brown eyes boring into the stark purple bruise on your face. You shrink and smile sheepishly at her.

“I’m fi-”

“I am going to throw these sugar packets at you if you say you’re fine.”

“Damn, ok, Mr.Kettle,” You laugh. His concern startles a genuine laugh out of you. You’re sincerely surprised how lively the sound that comes out of you is. “You know if you keep sounding like that, Jay, you’re gonna wreck the whole stone-cold badass thing you got going,”

“Y/n..”

You huff running your hand through your disheveled hair, trying in vain, to soothe your mind. What was the best way to put it? You swallowed, gathering your lapsing thoughts. “Sooo uh-” The collar of your shirt suddenly felt tight around your neck. “-I-” You breathe. “-I found around 4 or 5 of Blackmask’s boys and Deathstroke-No, I’m not shitting you- in my- my apartment for- well- the third time in the last two months, can I crash at your place? Just ‘til I find a new place. Oh and also how do I get rid of them?”

He blinks as his brain takes its sweet fucking time digesting what you had just said. He leans back groaning and running his hands over his face. He looks like he’d like to deck you if he wasn’t too busy being concerned for your welfare. You shrink again, feeling bad for springing it on him. The decision to leave out the gory details of your hectic week suddenly felt like the wisest choice but you had no doubt he’ll get it out of you at some point.

“I’ll skip the obvious ‘why did you wait three times before moving’ question because I feel like I’m probably going to get an aneurysm from your answer,” Your reasoning wasn’t quite that stupid. You were mucking about Sionis’s operation. The fucker decided to branch out his little enterprise into your city and like hell, you were gonna leave well enough alone. After you had set fire to one of his warehouses, you thought that would explain the False Facers. But Deathstroke? Deathstroke was a mystery. You’ve also been mucking about his business but you two have always been civil if not friendly. Frenemies of sorts, you guessed. You’ve been encountering him a lot in the last few days. You had figured that Blackmask had hired him but considering he threw two men out of your apartment window last night, you’re not entirely sure. You make an affronted noise that Jason elects to ignore.

“What did they do?”

“Aside from necessitating a visit to IKEA? Nothing.”

“Did they take anything? Leave a message?”

“Nope, nothing-” You furrow your brow trying to recall. You shake your head. “-They just made sure I knew they broke in.” You add, shrugging your shoulder. You wince at the movement. Your shoulder still aches from being hit with a bat. Jason’s shoulders shift, moving as if to reach out to you but stops himself. Instead, he continues with his line of questioning. “Sweetheart, there’s gotta be something missing.”

You frown, biting your cheek. Jason rests his chin on his hand, green eyes watching you and urging you to think back. It was either the weight of his gaze or the lack of sleep that was making it hard to recall. You close your eyes and catalog your belongings, analyzing the mental picture you have like a crime scene like how he taught you months ago, breaking it down into the smallest pieces of information and bringing it back into a bigger picture. Still, nothing. Nothing of note was missing. You shake your head and shrug your uninjured shoulder. Jason glares at the immobile one. You shake your head silently telling him it wasn’t from last night which just made him clench his jaw.

“Evidence?”

You shake your head. He frowns baffled.

“Tech?”

You shake your head again.

“Anything personal?” He asks jokingly.

“I-” A cold horror washes over you trailed by embarrassment. Your vibrator had been missing and so were a couple of your lingerie sets. You feel your stomach drop to the floor. “Oh god, Jay- I- Please, let me stay with you.”

“And have them steal my stuff?” He chuckles.

“Please, Jay, like you have anything worth stealing.” Jason frowns at you scrutinizing your face. You level him a glare but it was more in an effort to fight down a blush than anything venomous. Jason’s jaw unclenches and his face breaks into a shit-eating grin. “What color was it?”

“Wha-”

“Bzzzzzzzt ”

If you weren’t blushing before, you are now. Heat climbs up your spine. Your mouth felt dry.

“Well, what color was it, sweetheart?” Jason drawls, his voice dropping an octave. You shiver but bristle just as quickly. You bite your cheek and glare at him. “HA. HA. HA. Funny, Todd.”

“Was it Red Hood Red?” Jason teases, winking and raising his cup of coffee to his lips.

“Nightwing blue” You deadpan. Jason coughed into his drink. You preen with satisfaction.

“Does it make stupid puns while you go at it? ”

“Yup,” You say, the ‘p’ popping. “That’s part of the appeal.” You joke smiling into your mug. Jason snorts. “How is that supposed to be sexy?”

You shrug, a sharper less tired smile cutting across your features. “Dunno man. Nightwing is pretty sexy if you ask me.” You wink.

Jason makes a fake gagging noise. Well, it seems fake with how theatrical the gesture is but with bats? You never could tell. You roll your eyes and giggle. Jason’s shoulders loosen at your bubble of laughter, his face slipping into one of his sheepish smiles. “In all seriousness, y/n, you can stay at my place.”

You smile at him, your usual fluorescent smile.

Click

A man from across the street watches you intently through the lens of a camera.

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

Slade throws the photos across Roman’s desk, each glossy piece of paper containing a candid photo of you looking increasingly frayed and anxious.

Roman marvels at how your usually larger than life figure shrank into your puffy coat, how small and malleable and inexperienced you looked. He notes the panicked look in your eyes in every one of the photos and savors it. He couldn't wait to see it for himself.

In one photo, you're looking over your shoulder as you enter your office building.

In one, you’re tracing circles on a child’s hand with your thumb, beaming brightly as you told some wild tale to distract the child.

In another, you're slumped in your desk chair as you think over a case looking absolutely exasperated but determined.

In yet another one, you're locking lips with a man, his hand trailing up your shirt. Roman made sure to give the man some swimming lessons a few weeks prior.

In the photo in Roman’s hand, you're at the emergency room looking like you haven't slept in 2 days. Your face was bruised and your clothes were torn in several places where Slade had managed to land a blow. Your delicate skin marred with cuts and trickling blood. Absolutely gorgeous.

He examines it closely. The photo was taken just a few hours ago. You look like you're going to cry but your shoulders and jaw are squared more frustrated than scared. There's a fire in your eyes that threatens to level the city. A thrill rides up his spine at the prospect of extinguishing it.

“This is why you wanted to throw my men out the window?”

Slade hums. He shrugs and the edge of his lips curl into a smile. “It was the only way to convince the kid that we’re both after her-” His eye drifts to your face. Appraising but impassive. “The kid’s scared out of her mind and exhausted at this point.”

Slade had a point. Roman had to give him that. It wouldn’t be obvious to the casual observer but it would be plain as day to anyone like Roman who had been studying you for a while. You weren’t quite as meticulous with your appearance as Roman thought you should be (He would work on that later) but the dishevelment in your appearance was obvious. The slight dip in your shoulders in place of the prim posture that you usually employed was a blatant indication of your weariness. And the falter in your smile, the flickering in your eyes, and the number of times you let yourself bite your cheek showed the cracks in your fearless image.

Who knew weeks upon weeks of chaos could weather Minos City’s own budding hero?

In the photo next to Roman’s hand, your laughing face is stark and lively against the drab atmosphere of the diner, bubbling laughter carving life into your exhausted features making you look more like the shining paragon your city has come to rely on. The man sitting in front of you is laughing too. The sharp edges of his grin softened by the fondness in his eyes. It was hard not to recognize him even with such a foreign expression plastered onto his face. Roman crushes the photo in his hand.

“BUT NOW SHE’S WITH THAT SCUMBAG RED HOOD”

“And she’s now with the Red Hood. In his secluded safe house. Weakened and far from help. Most likely thinking that she’s safe under his protection and blissfully unaware of the tracker I put in her arm.”

“I see… It seems like you are worth the pay.”

Slade made no effort in hiding his smug grin.

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“Jay, I really am sorry about this.” You mumble for what seemed like the fifth time in the past half hour.

“I sincerely hope you’re apologizing for the fact that you neglected to tell me you had bruised ribs before getting on my bike and not the fact that you’re staying with me because two crazy assholes decided your place needed remodeling.” Jason exasperates, pinching the bridge of his nose. You feel kind of annoyed by the gesture but he did have a point especially with your city’s less than smooth roads. You were also pretty banged up. As it turns out, facing off against a bunch of goons plus a master assassin is not good for your health. You swore viciously under your breath. Now, you weren’t expecting Deathstroke to go easy on you despite your rapport but the guy really didn’t have to throw you around like a rag doll. Even with your power to adjust the odds, it was a miracle that you escaped intact.

“Well, Mr.Pot, you ride your bike all the time even with broken ribs.” You bite back. Jason rolls his eyes unaffected by the distilled venom in your voice.

“Well, one of us is a stone-cold badass- ”

“And the other is a sasquatch with a stick up his ass.” You sneer snatching the beer bottle from Jason. Your tone was far too fond and playful to have any actual bite. Jason chuckles at you and ruffles your hair before snatching it back and handing you a bottle of water.

You huff taking the bottle from him and following him to the couch. He sits down on the couch patting the seat beside him. You plopped on to the couch, placing your sock feet on his lap. He grabs your ankles and throws your feet back at you. You just as quickly throw them back on and this time you do it with an absolutely delighted smirk on your face. “Rude,” He mumbles but doesn’t attempt to extricate you again.

“So Deathstroke, huh?” Jason starts, side-eyeing you over his beer. You adjust yourself to sit up a little straighter.

“You mean the asshat who broke my favorite lamp last night?”

“Who the hell has a favorite lamp?”

“Me! And get to your point.”

“Have you two- yanno?” Jason jokes, his eyebrows wiggling and hands gesturing vaguely. Your eyes grow wide and heat creeps up your neck and face. You scowl at Jason throwing a pillow at his face for good measure. He catches it with ease much to your frustration giving you his trademark triumphant grin. You kick at him with no real force.

“NO! What kind of soap opera shit is that?” You giggle into your drink. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about it before. The guy was skilled and pretty witty. You also had eyes and the man was handsome but something always felt strange about taking it further. You were civil but you kept your distance.

You pout at Jason again causing him to chuckle. “What? I’m just saying it’ll air out some tension~” He suggests winking.

“Oh my actual god, I hate you. I sincerely, truly hate you.” You laugh, kicking at his thigh. Jason makes an obviously fake hurt noise which draws out even more giggles out of you. Some tension in Jason’s shoulders releasing upon hearing the bubbly sounds.

“You speaking from experience, Jay?”

Jason shakes his head and coughs. “Catwoman-” Cough. “Talia Al Ghul-” Cough. “Sorry, sweetheart, seems like I have a really bad cough this week.”

And that is how you spend the rest of the night questioning Bruce’s love life.

“Food is in the fridge,” Jason says pointing to the said fridge which was sorely lacking magnets, sounding like a somewhat tired single parent.

“Do I look like I can keep anything down?”

Jason snatches the water bottle you had abandoned on the side table next to the recliner. “With that big mouth of yours? Sure.” Jason teases lightly booping you on the nose with your water bottle. “Get some rest.”

“Yes, mother” You sighed, burying yourself into the thick comforter he’d given you, crumpled water bottle in hand. He ruffles your hair.

“You know you’re safe here, right? ” The question startles you. You shift uncomfortably, pulling the comforter tightly around your shoulders. You shrug at him, not entirely certain how to answer. You know Jason’s safe house is, well, safe but you also thought your apartment was too. Your stomach twisted.

Jason squeezed your shoulder probably sensing the spiral of your thoughts. He smiles down at you, probably. It was hard to tell with the helmet.

“If you want, I can-”

“No, Jay, I’ll be fine here. You can go on patrol. I’ll be fine. Promise.”

The thing with Jason was that even when he was so big and bulky and hella intimidating, his empathy towards others had a bad habit of always shining through despite the layers of armor and sarcasm. You squeeze his hand, pressing little circles into his palm, and smile up at him. It was forced but it was the best you could do. Jason ruffles your hair again before letting go and making his way to the window.

“Get some sleep.”

“Aye aye cap’n” You yawn settling into a slump on the couch. Jason can’t help but smile fondly at you. You wave him a sleepy goodby before he sets off.

You passed out on the couch, an old habit you never grew out of. You always slept on the couch when you felt uneasy. It may have been some sort of way to separate stress from your bedroom. It sure as shit wasn’t for safety reasons. Your equipment was dispersed throughout your apartment but your weapons were usually stowed away in your room.

You feel a hand running gently through your hair, smoothing away all your apprehension.

“Jay” You grouse, your hand halfheartedly swatting at the hand stroking your hair. You bury yourself further into the warmth of the comforter feeling the need to shrink away from the touch. You feel a soft prick on your neck.

Your eyes fly open.

Shit.

The hand tangles in your hair. It throws you to the wall. The air is knocked out of your lungs. Your ribs scream. You scrabble to your feet. Your limbs fail you. They flail uselessly. Your breaths pick up. Your chest feels like it's caving.

"JAY" You shriek. “HELP.” A large hand grasps your throat. A rush of adrenaline kicks in. You thrash. You kick. Your hit lands. Another grasps your ankles. You scream. You swear viciously. Another grabs at your wrists. Something rough winds around your wrists and ankles.

The world tilts into an odd angle. Your head feels heavy so do your arms and your legs and everything.

"Jaaay" You slur, the air in your lungs becoming sluggish like everything else. "Jay" you sob again, knowing he wouldn't come. Not when he was so far away.

"Shut up you ….. bitch" You feel a swift kick to your stomach. It barely registers above the haze.

"Hey man-"

"What? The …. man said we …… rough her up."

"We can?"

"Yeah, ……, said so"

Your eyes blink, stupid, and uncomprehending. Distantly, you hear yourself grunting and whimpering. You can feel their blows but your body is too far away, too inaccessible. It was strange to physically feel yourself drift away.

Roman traces the sun shaped scar radiating on your shoulder with a leather-clad hand. The one shot he’d managed to land on you the first time you’d stormed one of his warehouses. You were all cocksure and quick wit and boisterous laughter. You really had the devil’s own luck but it seems to have run out. Not that Roman’s got any complaints. Not when he’s got you laying at his feet, tied up and vulnerable.

He crouches down, hand on his chin. His eyes roam appreciatively over your sleeping form, appraising you like a premium cut of meat. You look pretty against the black silk sheets he’d chosen. He sighs content with his prize. He traces the tip of his knife over your cheek, a dark purple bruise maring your features stark against the stainless surface of the blade. Slade really was quite careless when handling you. Not that Roman has any plans on being any gentler.

He lets his blade drift down, trailing down your neck down to the flimsy protection of your oversized shirt. Your steady breaths falter. You keep your eyes shut trying to gather more information but it’s hard not to focus off the tip of the blade cold against your warm skin even as the blade cuts through the thin fabric of your shirt. A large hand grasps your face roughly.

“I know you're awake, baby-” You blanch still not opening your eyes. The grip on your jaw tightens. You grin like a madman. “It's rude to keep daddy waiting.”

“Sorry, Sionis, I was really hoping not to have to wake up you’re ugly mug.” You sneer, voice thick and raspy with sleep but still full with your trademark confidence. Roman looks more amused than irritated. Your body and mind are still at the cusp of sleep. You wriggle and almost cry out with joy when you feel them move. You mind the hand on your jaw and its tight grip.

“Baby, I won’t tell you a-” You spit in his face, cracking an eye open to see his reaction. A bloody grin spreads across your face like wildfire when you see the annoyance on his face.

“You’re going to regret that” He growls, wiping his face with a torn piece of your shirt.

“Oh please-” Something cracks across your jaw.

“The next time it’ll be the other end,” It takes a moment for your mind to catch on. You stare at the hilt of the blade for a moment before letting loose another smarmy grin. His violent reaction spurs you on. Yeah, you can definitely see why Jason thinks you’re going to age him twenty years. “Oh please, You like my face too much for that.”

“You really wanna test that?”

“Nope,” You say, spitting into his eye and landing a punch square in his face. You cackle like a madwoman when he goes down. You don’t bother hiding the delighted chirps that escape your chest.

Being petty, you give him a swift kick to the face before dashing towards the door. You launch yourself, feeling like you can fly. The copper taste in your tongue almost feels sweet.

Your hand grasps the door when a hand tangles itself in your hair.

Roman throws you back onto the mattress, the springs digging into your back. You scratch and claw and thrash against the large hand wrapped around your throat. You snarl as Roman leans closer, his body pinning yours against the mattress, his weight immobilizing your fatigued limbs. A sweet-smelling cloth covers your mouth and nose, you gasp in surprise, inhaling the scent. Your mind is already sluggish by the time it catches on.

Your vision dims.

You feel hollowed out.

Your limbs fall away, arms drooping and pliant against the silk-covered mattress. The cloth feels too much against your skin. Vaguely, you feel horror prickling up your spine or maybe it was just the springs again.

Roman pulls away. You think you breathe a sigh of relief, feeling the weight of him lifted. He straddles your body, grinning down at you. Your mouth falls open to say something. You want to say that you curse him out or that you threaten him. The sound you make is small. Your tongue feels too heavy. No, something is pressing it down, you think.

Above you, Roman is a towering colossus. You’re vaguely aware of the shifting of his hips. He removes his gloved hand from your mouth and caresses the side of your face with mock gentleness. His movements are sluggish and syrupy. You make another noise when you realize to some degree of horror that isn’t. Your mind felt heavy and useless.

He snaps his fingers. The sound is dull like it's contending with water. A muffled set of steps approaches you. A man, you realize. You don't think you’ve noticed him before. His dark shape is messy and incomprehensible. A red dot flashes stark against his form. The mechanical sounds of a shutter drift in and out of your mind. You turn your head back to Roman at the sound of shifting fabric.

Above you, Roman, already without his suit jacket, loosens his tie, eyes staring hungrily at you. The pit of your stomach feels painfully cold. You blink at him stupidly. He chuckles, grasping your chin to make sure you’re looking at him. You protest against his touch.

“Don’t worry, baby, you’ll be the star of our little show like the filthy attention whore you really are. ” He laughs. It rumbles like thunder in your ears.

The world falls away.

Click

One

Two

One

You feel a prick on your neck.

Hot breaths fan against your face.

Your body is too warm.

You don’t want to know why.

Twenty-five, you continue counting.

You feel fabric shift against you.

Something sharp digs itself into your flesh.

One

Two

Three

Three?

Something’s crushing your windpipe.

Your body is aching. You’re not entirely sure whether it’s from use or disuse and by who.

“Good girl”

Thirty

Twelve

There’s something scraping against your flesh.

Is it a knife?

Hot pants fan against your skin.

Teeth

Four

Fifty-six

“Boss, I-.... going a …. bit too far?”

Smack!

“Do …. You…. to think?”

Two sixty-eight

A hand strikes you. You think your jaw is broken. It hurts but then again everything hurts. All you can do is take it and whimper.

Tears sting against your face.

“That’s right. Just like that. Like that, you little whore.”

Your body is warm again.

You still don’t want to know.

Two

Two?

You’ve counted two before.

You blink.

The haze of your mind lifts.

The coldness of the room seeps in your bones. You’re bare. You take stock of yourself, running your hands over your skin. Everything is still there.

Everything and a few other things. You let disgust and shame roll over you. A sob tears its way out of your chest. Your breath picks up. You feel your mind slipping. You press the heels of your palms into your eyes, calling your mind back and steadying yourself.

You take stock again. This time moving your limbs and jangling your joints. They were weak but workable. You’re surprised to find yourself unbound aside from the collar around your neck. You suppose Roman’s confident in his drugs. How long have you been here? You press lightly against your neck, feeling the higher than normal pulsing of your artery. You shift yourself waking your legs up.

You stiffen, gooseflesh spreading over your skin as light filters into the room through the door. Your eyes snap shut, stinging from the sudden intrusion of light. The pulse beneath your fingers jackrabbits. You think you’ll keel over.

“Shhhhhh”

All the strength in your veins floods out, leaving a feeling of cold horror in its place. You scream or you try. Your body feels impossibly rigid. Roman stalks towards you, his footfalls slow and deliberate and too loud. Your heart jumps up to your throat with each step. You inch yourself away from him, drawing yourself up to make yourself feel bigger. He coos at how adorable you are, trying to look defiant. The mattress dips under his weight. Your mind begins to slip away from you again. The world falls away from you. You anchor it, digging your nails into your palms. He cups your face, thumb caressing your bottom lip. You glower at him and bite out something witty. He laughs amusement lighting up his features, the sound grates against your ears.

“Not gonna fight back?” He taunts, pressing his thumb down on your bottom lip. Your body recoils but then goes slack as he runs his hand up and down your side. Shame blankets you but the fear etched into you keeps you still.

Roman loosens his tie.

Your mind falls out of your reach.

“Such a good little slut.” He murmurs against your lips.

You wanted to say.

Instead, your mind starts counting again even as you hear the rustle of fabric.

BANG

A gunshot rings through the thick atmosphere of the room.

Roman curses.

His men stampede.

Another round of shots fire.

Something- No, no. Someone tears Roman off of you.

“Deathstroke?” You croak, your voice sounding foreign and absurdly brittle.

“Do you know anyone else walking around looking like this, kid?”

“Ravager” You snark, lips twitching into a smile. He rolls his eyes underneath his mask. The familiarity of the exchange breathes life into your body. Roman’s hand grips your wrist with bruising intensity. Your breath catches.

No. No. No.

The word loops in your head like a constant rat-tat.

Slade’s foot makes contact with Roman’s head, the force of it unnecessary but satisfactory. The sounds of bone-cracking fill the air. The man falls uselessly to the grimey floor. He shoots him with a couple of rounds for good measure, each shot instilling a pang of finality in the back of your mind.

You scrabble towards Slade, wide-eyed and shallow breathed. You cling to Slade as he bundles your body in silken sheets. He hoists you easily into his arms. You bury your face into the junction between his neck and shoulder, closing your eyes, the image of Roman’s bloody body on the floor pressed into your mind. You sob in relief. Your hands clasping onto Slade, white-knuckled and shaking.

"I've got you, sweetheart," He rumbles, running his hand through your hair soothingly. The tight knots in your body, loosen. You whimper a quiet thank you. “I’ve got you.”

You lift your head only to see Roman twitch.

Your breathing falters.

Fear pricks your spine.

Your mind falls away from you again.

Distantly, you feel Slade’s grip on you tightens.

Distantly, you hear him murmur something.

Everything is too far away.

Your eyes blink sluggishly. The world becomes dimmer with each blink.

A warm spray of water drizzles down over your aching skin. Your open wounds sting but the warm water pooling around you soothes the aches of your bruised flesh. Your eyes focus on the soft off-white of the tile on the wall opposite you. You don’t let yourself about the thin, rusty red film swirling in the water. The air in the room is thick with steam and the scent of lavender.

The absence of grime on your skin makes you feel lighter and gauzy and immaterial. You felt naked and obscene like you had been taken apart and now someone was examining pieces of you. You almost miss it.

“Lean back” Slade grumbles as he lathers your hair with some lavender concoction the hotel provided. Your body follows automatically, eagerly, obediently. You tell yourself you’re just tired. You tell yourself nothing’s wrong with your response. You tell yourself you’re ok. You wince. The warm water around you shifts. You hear it splash against the tile. You flinch at how loud it sounds. You take a deep breath and lean into his touch. He’s handling you delicately as though you would fall apart any second. You might.

Blinking away tears, you watch his face, aware that by leaning back, you’d be giving him a good view of the hickies, bite marks, and knife wounds Roman ‘gifted’ you. There’s a slight twitch in the corners of his lips. He must be disgusted with you too. You want to sink into the hot water and let it burn you anew, but you don’t trust yourself not to drown.

You close your eyes as another spray of warm water pours over you. You melt into it hoping it’s enough to wash the last few days- weeks?- away.

Your hands grasp his face, pulling him towards you. His hands brace against the tub, keeping him from falling in with you. Your arms loop around his neck, your hot breath fanning against his lips. You press your lips against him, searching and wanting. For what exactly? Comfort? Safety? Stimulation? His lips press lightly against yours, not quite a kiss. Slade actually looks taken aback.

The rest of the world floods back in. You peel away, your eyes wide with terror. “Shit- I’m- Fuck! Fuck! Shit, Slade, I- I’m sorry. I- Shit! I didn’t-” Your breathing ratchets up, becoming shallower as the pulsating in your ears grow louder. There’s a tightness growing in your chest that makes you think your ribcage is about to implode. You cover your face with your hands not caring how it didn’t help your shallowing breaths. You can’t look at him. You just can’t. You know you’re disgusting.

Your body wants to come apart, dissolve, and if it can, evaporate. You can’t breathe. You curl into yourself, into the water. A hand grabs at your wrist. You flinch. The hand carefully pries your hand away, forcing you to uncurl. Slade’s other hand cups your face gently, guiding you to look him in the eye. The lack of disgust in his face rattles you.

His thumb brushes against your lips making your stomach twist and your spine curl. He dips his head closer to yours. You kiss him eagerly. He lets out a pleased hum and smiles against your lips. Something cold licks at the bottom of your stomach but it’s overtaken by the need for connection, to fill in what had been hollowed out.

You press closer to him than strictly necessary as you watch the news, chewing on your cheek. He pulls you close, shifting you on to his lap. You don’t protest, eyes glued to the TV.

“Businessman, Roman Sionis, was found with several gunshot wounds to the stomach in one of his warehouses here in Minos City. He is now in stable condition. Authorities say...”

Your jaw falls slack in mute horror. Your stomach tumbles to the floor. You’re hyperventilating. Your teeth are digging into your cheek, you taste copper. Your mind spirals back into the room, back to the dirty mattress, back to Roman.

Strong arms wrap around you, stilling your trembling body against a broad chest. Your body relaxes a fraction. You curl into him, the buzz of nervous energy settling into a quieter panic.

“You’re safe with me, you know that don’t you, sweetheart?” Slade says tracing circles into your palm. You lean your head into his shoulder. You nod easing against him. “I’ll never let that monster anywhere near you.” He promises, pressing a kiss into your hair. A little sob wrenches free of your imploding chest.

Slade keeps his face buried in your hair even as you fall into a lull. It was the only way to hide the triumphant grin spreading across his face.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll take good care of you.”

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

A/n: Thanks for reading. There’s a follow up to this because I can’t cope with bad endings. I had to promise myself a good second part to make the ending horrifying.

The writing process for this fic was basically:

Me: I have this horrifying idea!

My brain: Yes but what if we put a little dork Jason in it.

Me: I guess that wouldn’t hurt.

Me: Ok I have written nearly 2k of dorky Jason where’s the other parts?

Brain: Uh what other parts?

Me: *sighs and spends the next few days spamming @knightfall05x*

taglist:

@batarella, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @idkmanicantenglish,@birdy-bat-writes, @americasmarauders , @l-horizon11, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay, @wunderstell

#yandere dc #yandere blackmask #yandere roman sionis #yandere deathstroke #yandere slade wilson #Black Mask #Deathstroke #slade wilson x reader #Roman Sionis #roman sionis x reader #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #Jason Todd #red hood x reader

249 notes · View notes

memes-in-a-half-shell · 3 years

Text

Business AU - Working Late, Part 6

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5

Just two cuties learning more about eachother ooohhh u___u 💜

Help, I’m getting too involved in this fic fsdfhsjfbsd

They had agreed to meet at Vee’s apartment building at around 6:30-7:00pm, exchanging phone numbers for easier communication. They had yet to know where they’d spend the evening on this Saturday, but knowing New York was full of surprises, it wouldn’t be hard to find something to do.

Vee was franctically moving back and forth from her bedroom to the bathroom, trying so hard to find anything good to wear. ... They should’ve decided on an activity, dammit. Now she didn’t know if it would be wiser to wear a dress, or something more casual? As her hands were shovelling through clothes in her closet, she heard her phone beep to life, signaling a notification. Glancing at the time, it was barely over 6pm. It was a text from Donnie, to which she couldn’t help raising a brow:

Her lips were pursed in a thin line, answering anyway:

She put her phone away. He wasn’t supposed to get here in at least thirty minutes to an hour, so there was no rush.

*BZZZZT*

She jumped when the door buzzer rang. Her frown was formed in an instant, running to her intercom and cracking it to life.

“Yes?”

“I was curious ‘cause I wanted to come up and see where you live!” responded Donnie’s voice through the intercom.

“What are you doing here? It’s only 6pm!”

“I figured it’d be a good excuse to come up to your place.”

“Donatello you are one sneaky bastard,” sighed Vee. “... Alright, come on up.”

As soon as she unlocked the main entrance downstair, that’s when she realized that she was still only in her underwear. She panicked for a couple of seconds, allowing some time for him to enter the building, then running to her room and grabbing any pieces of clothing she could find; a pair of sweatpants and a tank top. Almost falling in her rush, she then rushed to her entrance, opening the door in a hurry. She met face to face with Donnie, the mutant’s hand in a motion to knock, but promptly stopped. His eyes were wide as he noticed her a panting mess.

“... I guess it wasn’t such a good idea afterall,” he chuckled.

“Let’s just say you took me by surprise. I still have yet to decide what I’m gonna wear.”

She moved, gesturing him to come in. As he passed by, she glanced at his look. He was rather casual for the occasion; a pair of blue jeans and a black shirt, not entirely buttoned at the top, giving a slight sight to his plastron.

“Looking at you, now I finally have a better idea of what to wear,” she pointed out. “At least that’s good.”

As she walked to him, she vaguely gestured the surroundings: “Welcome to my oversized closet. One bedroom, one bathroom, the rest is the living space connected to the kitchen. ... This must look like a tiny shithole to you.”

Donnie tsked: “Don’t be so hard on this place, it has its charms! I think it looks nice. ... It suits you in terms of taste.”

“Most of the furniture is second-hand, which is cheaper most of the time,” added Vee, going towards her bedroom. “I wouldn’t say it’s one hundred percent my taste, but at least it fills the space. ... This place is tiny, but good enough for me.”

As she was about to close her door, she did peak back at Donnie, flashing him a smile: “Make yourself at home, I’ll be ready in no time.”

The terrapin took that as an invitation to look around the place. To be frank, he did arrive earlier in order to do such thing. He always thought that a person’s environment could tell so much about them. Overall the place was tidy, with the exception of a few books here and there and some papers and pencils layed on a coffee table. She had a bookshelf completely filled, books about various subjects neatly placed and organized. An electric piano was resting against a wall, various partitions showing on a music stand close by. There were some art and pictures decorating the space - but none were showing people, even relatives if any... He also noticed a faint smell of coffee in the air, judging that she must have brewed some earlier. There was this sense of coziness, something only a small and well-thought apartment could give, and it definitely did suit her well.

Vee’s bedroom door opened, revealing the woman in much proper clothes. Both smiled, Vee playfully adding:

“I figured I’d bring the curse back.”

She had also opted for jeans, her upper body adorning a black tank top and a black blazer over it.

“At least you have more style than me,” added the turtle.

“Nonsense,” Vee scolded in a fake tone, giving a playful slap on his arm as she passed by, going to the kitchen area. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

She got two glasses out of a cupboard, showing them to Donnie: ‘‘Water? ... I don’t have anything else fancy to drink.”

“Water is good,” he smiled, leaning against the kitchen island.

He really didn’t know why, but looking at her go in her own environment was making him happy. It felt much more intimate to see her at ease and relaxed...

“So, what did you have in mind for this evening?” she asked, setting the glasses down and offering one to him.

He took a sip, looking pensive for a moment.

“We can definitely grab a quick bite somewhere, theeennnn...” He looked around quickly, then pointing the piano. “You like music? What genre?”

Vee shrugged: “Pretty much anything, but I do have a preference for classical and jazz. Why?”

“We could definitely drop at a jazz club then! I know some interesting places in Midtown.”

“I’m down for it then, monsieur,” smirked the woman.

***

They had opted first to go to a small local café, indulging themselves to some coffee and simple food. There was no need to be fancy-pantsy, prefering the intimacy and coziness of this small place. To be frank, it was the perfect setting for some casual conversation, finally taking the time to get to know eachother further more.

To quench Donnie’s curiosity, Vee explained why she moved to New York city. She felt like she had been facing a wall for too long back in Montréal. A lot of things had gone wrong in her personal life, her career seemed to go nowhere. All she wanted at some point was to run away. Start from scratch and be on her own... She had visited New York a couple of times before and had been in love with the city ever since. It only felt natural that she’d want to move there - knowing big cities were at least familiar to her, yet she could experience new things out of it. Her family had been furious about her choices, but she chose to stick to it and moved without any help. She found her apartment and her job all by herself. She handled all sorts of paperwork herself regarding her move. She wanted to be alone. She wanted to prove herself that she could make such a huge leap in her life.

As for Donnie, without going into much details, he explained how the Hamato Enterprise came to be. After his father’s death, he and his brothers joined forces and decided to reveal themselves to the world - with the help of some key figures in the city. Their knowledge of New York and its pulse proved to be a tremendous help for developping tactics and plans to advance the city’s security and good life of its people. It was still not perfect - how could it ever truly be anyway? - but the turtles had New York and its denizens at heart, and they would do anything to safeguard it. They had attracted good and bad attention on them over the years, but that never distracted them from their goals to bring out the best out of this city.

Vee could admire the intentions, although she did raise concerns in regards to judging what could be “best” for the city. There were too many variables that would never allow a perfect “cookie-cutter” plan for peace. Donnie was well aware of that and it was something he had personally raised to his brother Leonardo - who was mostly in charge of security matters. Sacrifices had to be made at times for the people’s sake, but at least the four brothers’ different points of view helped painting various scenarios into shades of grey, rather than in a fully black and white picture.

Done with their meal, the duo proceeded towards Midtown. The evening was warm and the streets colorful. Energy and life were coursing through every corners of the city, truly reminding that New York was indeed the city that never sleeps. They found solace in a jazz club inbetween other venues. There was already a good crowd seated there, so they both found their place towards the back of the room, although they still got a nice view on the stage. A band was already playing, setting a smooth ambiance to the scene. After they ordered some drinks to their table, Vee made herself more comfortable as she removed her blazer, revealing her tank top, as well as the tattoo adorning her upper left chest part.

“Oh nice,” started Donnie as he took a better look at it. “I did notice your tattoo by some occasions, but it’s the first I’m seeing it fully!”

“Yeah, sorry, it’s starting to get hot in here.”

“No need to be sorry for anything, I enjoy the sight,” winked the terrapin. “How many tattoos do you have?”

“Let’s see...,” quickly pondered the woman. She quickly gestured or tapped whichever part she was mentionning afterward: “One at each legs - ankle level. Both wrists, on the insides. Inner left forearm. On the ring finger of my right hand. Behind my right shoulder. Do I need to still go on?”

“I’m guessing you want more of them?”

“Oh absolutely,” smiled Vee. “Hopefully I can get both my arms fully covered at some point.”

“I could probably help with that.”

The woman couldn’t help her small frown, slightly curious.

“How so?”

“I know how to tattoo! I did my brothers’ tattoos.”

She hummed in approval, her eyes wide with interest, as well as lightly tapping his nearby forearm by absolute delight.

“Well, well, well. Have I known, I would have asked for that instead of a date!”

“Oh come on, is this evening going so bad right now?” teased Donnie.

“I’m joking,” reassured Vee, her smile soft. “I’m having a really nice time so far.”

Her hand remained on his arm, lightly stroking his scales. Her eyes drifted back to the scene, watching the musicians play. She rarely had the time to watch any live performances nowadays, so this experience was most definitely welcomed this evening.

“I’ll never get tired of music...,” she started dreamily. “It’s been my first real passion and it might forever be so.”

“I suspect you play the piano, since I’ve seen one back at your place,” inquired Donnie.

“I’ve been learning it by myself for so many years now. My main instrument though is the Alto Saxophone and I’ve been singing as well. I do compose in my spare time too.”

“I’m curious about all of that now. When can I hear one of your masterpieces?”

She squinted her eyes in amusement as she glanced back at the turtle.

“In due time, dear. But for now let’s enjoy the music already available to us.”

In answer, Donnie simply moved his arm so his hand could rightfully hold Vee’s, their fingers interlacing - threes and fives. They spent the whole show like this, forever enjoying eachother’s presence. How could this evening be even better than this?

***

“I still can’t believe that last band that played. I’ve never heard a saxophone squeak so much in one performance. It was so bad!” laughed Vee.

“You should’ve gone up on stage and steal the show. That would’ve been fun,” teased Donnie.

“Oh no, no, no!” quickly replied the woman. “This city is not ready yet to hear my talent.”

Her tipsy state did bring more fun into the conversation, Vee holding onto Donnie’s arm as they were heading toward’s her apartment building. She still had all her mind, but her mood was light and happier than usual, definitely on a cloud. As they stopped to the main entrance’s door, Vee couldn’t help tracing a finger over the visible parts of the mutant’s plastron.

“... Wanna come upstair for another glass of water?” she asked.

Donnie showed half of a smile, slightly shaking his head.

“No, I’m good. ... I don’t think it’d be a good idea to go up with you.”

“How so? I’m bad company?”

“No, you’re an excellent one, in fact....”

A shiver passed through Vee as she felt his hand at the small of her back, keeping her close.

“... J’ai beaucoup aimé ce temps passé avec toi (I really liked that time spent with you),” he said, his other hand lovingly cupping her cheek.

Vee couldn’t help her grin, leaning into his touch.

“Not bad. You’re not that much of a lost cause with French after all.”

“Let’s just say you’re inspiring me, all of a sudden.”

A quiet chuckle left Vee: “Monsieur Donatello, vous m’en laissez bouche bée (mister Donatello, you’re leaving me speechless).”

They couldn’t stop reading one another, ever leaning so close...

“... I could leave you even more speechless,” murmured the mutant.

In a joined, yet tender motion, it didn’t take long for their lips to meet, Vee helping herself by standing at the tip of her toes. It simply felt so natural... An overdued resolution that was only bound to happen. It was both brief and taking forever, the feeling sending fireworks through them both. They kept close as the kiss ended, Vee’s blush way apparent as she couldn’t stop smiling.

“Well, that’s one good way to end the night,” she said lovingly.

“I wanted to do that for quite some time now...”

“I won’t say no to a second serving, good sir.”

That amused Donnie, indulging himself to a second sweet kiss. He didn’t want to rush anything, keeping it quite simple for the moment. Oh but how did it make him crave for so much more... After they parted once more, Donnie knew he had to leave. They had taken some good steps together, but right now they needed to halt that race... as good as it felt.

“Goodnight, Vee...” he cooed, feeling enamored.

“Goodnight, Donnie. I’ll dream of you...,” sweetly added Vee.

“Then I shall meet you in mine as well.”

It’d be quite pleasant, indeed.

((Part 7))

#it's-a-moi #business au #the usual sorry for any mistakes #IT'S SMOOCHING TIME

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inkribbon796 · 3 years

Text

Egotober 2021 Ch. 21: Overdue for an Upgrade

Summary: Eric is a naturally nervous person and change is difficult for him, but he’s starting to take baby steps.

Prompt: Costume

Characters: Patton and Eric

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31

Patton was starting to have fun again. With one city-destroying threat after the other Patton had felt drained. He had to do the work, obviously, people needed help and villains needed fighting.

Today it was an easy enough mission, a warehouse — that wasn’t Dark’s — had reports to Google in their system. He hadn’t done anything other than mildly injure people and they’d evacuated pretty quick. Logan was working with Bing and Oliver to figure out what he wanted inside the system. Patton was moving into the warehouse with Eric. Mostly to make sure that all the employees had been able to get out.

“So, uh,” Eric began nervously. “I’ve really been, umm, thinking about that, uh, new name thing.”

“Really?” Patton smiled warmly. “That’s really neat, is it that one you and Bomble were talking about, or another one?”

“The one we were ta-lking about,” Eric answered. “C-Combust-Ion.”

“Combust-Ion,” Patton repeated with a smile. “It’s nice, excellent choice.”

Eric was beaming, but the nice moment was cut off when one of Google’s many drones turned the corner, using its helicopter blades to hover in the air as it watched them.

“Hey, uh, Google,” Patton froze, suddenly aware that this was a bad match up.

“Are the useless meat sacks gone from the building?” Google asked through the drone’s speaker.

“That’s what we’re here to check,” Patton told him nervously, Eric freezing completely

“Then check,” Google ordered. “If I see one at this juncture, I will kill it.”

“Right, that’s what we’re trying to prevent,” Patton’s smile became more nervous, as he started signalling for Logan and Bing.

“They already know I’m here,” Google told them.

“Well, yeah, that is important,” Patton said as he took Eric to continue looking around the warehouse. It took about a half-an-hour before Patton was sure the warehouse was clear and sent a message to Logan.

“Okay, Lo Lo,” Patton announced proudly into his communicator. “Everyone’s clear.”

“There are no humans in the building?” Google asked.

“Yes!” Patton declared, “the building is clear.”

“Perfect,” Google responded, a smile practically audible in his voice. And the entire warehouse came alive as all the machines and they all turned on Patton and Eric. “The police don’t rush to the scene if humans die.”

Patton moved first against a massive hydraulic arm, Eric diving out of the way.

All in all, the fight was quick, the robot drone just seemed to be watching them during the quick interchange.

Logan didn’t even have time to run in with Oliver and Bing, Google watched the fight for a bit through his drone and then everything halted, as if Google had pressed a pause button on all his electronic followers.

“Hmmm,” Google’s voice came from the speaker.

“Information collected, thank you for your service,” Google’s voice told them before all the machines powered down, and the drone flew away.

“That doesn’t sound good,” Patton frowned but as he braced for an attack, nothing came. In fact Google pulled all his drones from the city and retreated back to Dark’s warehouses.

When questioned, Bing and Oliver didn’t really have an answer. Only that Google was obviously planning something.

Patton and Eric came out with only bruises, and when Illinois came to see him during a late night patrol he was more than a little upset about Google picking a fight with Eric. He was calmed by the fact Eric wasn’t even remotely hurt and the more malevolent android hadn’t wanted to harm him.

The two of them just walked side-by-side, Eric doing his best to recount the story as Illinois smiled. The two of them were just enjoying each other’s company.

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

Post A/N: Eric in this AU is no longer a nervous apprentice boy known as Explosion Boy, he is a nervous full-time hero known as Combust-Ion.

#superhero au #masks and maladies #egotober2021 #patton sanders #eric derekson #googleplier #ericilly #Eric’s growing up

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outerbankspreferences · 3 years

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50 wordless ways to say I love you.

#3. Traveling long distance just to see them.

Word count: 2040

Warnings: mentions of sex.

A/N: So I know nothing about filming, and I’m sorry it took me so long to update, but I’ve been sick. Hope you like it <3 :)

MASTERLIST

SERIES MASTERLIST

It had been a great week. You had gotten all your assignments done and handed in on time for once. You had time to deep clean your apartment and so much needed laundry. Why were you doing all this, because your boyfriend Drew had the weekend off from filming and he was going to make the four- and half-hour drive from Charleston to the Chapel Hill campus to be with you. You guys had been dating for little over a year, but you weren’t ready to move in with him just yet. He was your first serious boyfriend and you wanted to take things slow. You were also 4 years younger than Drew and felt it a little intimidating moving in with him just yet. Of course, he was supportive of that. You laugh to yourself thinking about how nervous you were when you two first started seeing each other. You had gone to high school with Maddy Cline, and when she went to university out west you kept in touch. You were the first person she told about wanting to be an actor, and you supported her dream 100%. She was the one who introduced you and Drew. She always joked that she was your guy’s cupid.

As you were hopping out the shower, wrapping your hair in a towel you heard your phone ringing. Rushing to kitchen to get you saw a picture of Drew show up, he was trying to facetime you. “Hey love, what’s up?” You ask him. It was unusual for him to be calling you this late. You take a good look at his face. There were bags under his eyes, and he had some stubble where he hadn’t shaved. You wonder if that was for his character. “I’m just getting back from supper with the cast. I miss you.” He spoke into the phone. Austin must have been sleeping because Drew spoke quietly. “Is everything okay love? You seem off.” He looked away from the screen, even when you weren’t physically with him you could still tell when something was up. You did this with everyone, not just him, but Drew thought it was your superpower. “Just a rough week with filming, and honestly I don’t feel very good, I think I’m just tired, but I don’t know.” He sat the phone, so it was propped up, rubbing his face with his hands. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that Drew, just wait a couple of days and you can come down here for a little break. I promise nothing but movies and snuggles.” You told him with hope in your voice. His face falls when he sees how excited you are. He was dreading making this call all day. “Yeah about that,” he trailed off. You sigh, “you can’t make it, can you?” He looked at you and instantly felt worse. “No, I thought we were going to have the weekend off, but I guess we’re behind schedule. Which I find crazy because we’ve been working our asses off all week.” He laughed trying to brighten the mood. “Maybe next weekend love, I’ll try and make it down. I’m sorry I know you were looking forward to it.” You put on a fake smile for him. He was already feeling shitty, and you weren’t going to add to his problems. “That’s okay, I have to work next weekend, but maybe I can switch my shifts around.” You send him a reassuring smile. “Go get some sleep babe, what time do you work in the morning?” “We have to be on set by 9:30.” “Okay, well I have class tomorrow, so I’ll talk you then. I love you, get some sleep.” You told him. Drew was half falling asleep talking to you. “Yeah your right love, have a good day, I love you more.” With that you hung up the phone. To say that you were disappointed was an understatement. You had been looking forward to seeing Drew all week, but you also felt bad because he was sick. Drew always took such good care of you when you weren’t feeling 100%. You decided he needed you there with him. You find your group chat with the girls and send them off a message.

Y/N: Hey guys, I heard you’ve been having a long week filming, but I need to ask a tiny favor of you.

MB: Ugh, you have no idea, I’m so tired I think I’ve been sleepwalking the whole day.

MC: I agree, this has been a week from hell, Chase got home and went straight to bed. What do you need Y/N?

Y/N: Well as you guys know, Drew was going to come down this weekend but now he can’t. So I was thinking of catching the bus down Friday and surprising him. But I need to know his schedule.

MC: YOU GUYS ARE TOO MUCH! Of course, we can help you with that. He’s filming with me a lot this weekend, so maybe be down for Friday night, our last call time is 5, and hopefully it won’t take more than an hour or so.

MB: I will be so happy not to listen to him go on about how much he misses you. He was so sad when he found out we would be filming through the weekend.

Y/N: Okay perfect, I’ll get Austin to pick me up from the bus station and I’ll wait at their place for him to get home. You guys are the best!

MC: Maybe we can all go get supper Saturday night, at the new bar we found. Everyone misses you.

MB: OMG I forgot about that place, yeah, we should go, Y/N you love it, they have half priced shots on Saturdays.

Y/N: Yeah okay, I’ll see what Drew wants to do and I’ll get back to you.

You were so excited. You went online and bought a bus ticket for Friday after you last class. It was a 5-hour drive because you would have to switch buses, but for Drew it was worth it. You packed your bag and planned with Austin for him to pick you up around 5:30. He promised to keep it a secret and was happy Drew wouldn’t be moping around the apartment.

When you get ready for your class that morning you just put on a cardigan, some leggings and put your hair in a ponytail. Austin had texted you saying that everyone was excited to see you and Drew was oblivious to what was being planned. Drew had also texted you that day, telling you to have a good day and he would try and call you that night. You could hardly sit through your class always checking the time. Once your class was over, you walked home and grabbed you stuff to catch the bus. Once you got on and settled you put your headphones in and slept the whole way. As promised Austin was at the bus station waiting for you. “Hey Y/N” he greeted engulfing you in a hug. You laugh “Hi Austin, thanks for picking me up, is Drew still filming?” “Uh yeah he is! Maddie said that they were going to be done around 6. You guys should have the place to yourselves, I’m going to stay at Rudy’s tonight.” You felt bad, you didn’t want to kick him out of his own home. “Austin you didn’t have to do that! I didn’t want to put anyone out. I was just worried about him. Is he still sick?” He laughed at you. “No I’m good, I don’t need to hear you and Drew go at it tonight, and I think he was a bit better today. If you ask me, I think everything is getting to him. He misses you; he misses his family; he’s working like none stop right now. I think he just needs some sleep.” You nodded along with everything Austin said. If there was one person who knew Drew better, then you it was him. They’d been roommates since filming season one after you and Drew decided to wait to move in together. You had become surprisingly good friends with Austin, and he would always third wheel you guys. “Wait, he’s not sleeping?” It caught you off guard, Drew never had trouble sleeping. A trait of his you were always jealous of. “Yeah well he never sleeps great without you anyways or at least that’s what he tells me.” You never knew that. You would spend a week at time with Drew, you guys would flip between each other places always spending the night together. You had to admit, you did sleep much better wrapped up in his arms.

Austin dropped you off at the apartment. “Are sure your okay sleeping at Rudy’s tonight Austin. I’m sure if Drew’s tired nothing’s going to happen.” He was putting your bag down, grabbing a drink out of the fridge. “Yeah, I’m sure, him and Elaine finally got together so he’s been sleeping at her place. I’m just going to watch the game or something.” You smiled, those two had been pining over each other for months. You had seen some pictures on Instagram and was happy they finally made it official.

Austin left you at the apartment waiting for Drew to get back. You put your stuff in his room and decided to make something to eat. If Drew were sick you wanted to make something that would make him feel better. Looking through his pantry you found some cans of soup and decided that would be perfect. He should be home anytime so it would be ready for him when he got there. You put on your Spotify playlist and started cooking. You were so focused on what you were doing that you never heard Drew unlock the door. He had to look twice when he saw you facing away from him making food slightly dancing in spot while you cooked. He was glad it wasn’t Austin cooking for once. “Y/N, what are you doing here? I missed you so much.” He came up hugging you from behind. You jumped a little. “Christ Drew, for being so big you’re awfully quite.” He laughed kissing you. You finally get a good look at him for the first time in a couple of weeks. He looked terrible the bags under his eye were worse, he was pale, and when you put your hand to his forehead, he had a fever. “Drew Starkey, you are running a fever, why didn’t you tell me it was this bad. I’m making you some soup go lay down on the couch until its done.” You scold him. He knew better then to let things get this bad.

Once the soup was warmed up you put it into some bowls and brought it over to him on the couch. He had turned on Netflix and was watching a crime documentary. “Babe you didn’t have to do all this, I’m fine, really. Just a bit of a cold nothing I can’t handle on my own.” “Clearly, I can tell you’re getting much better. Just eat this and we can cuddle after words.” You reply to him with sarcasm. Drew didn’t know how he got so lucky. For the rest of supper, you guys made small conversation. He asked about the bus ride and how school was going, and you asked about filming. Once the two of you were done eating you put the dishes in the sink, they could wait to be washed in the morning. You came back and laid down on the couch opting to the big spoon. Grabbing a blanket and wrapping Drew up to keep him warm. “Where’s Austin?” he asked. He noticed that his roommate wasn’t home, “oh he’s sleeping at Rudy’s tonight. He didn’t want to listen to us having sex.” Drew laughed and his breath tickled your chest making you giggle. “I’m too tired for sex tonight maybe tomorrow.” You looked down at him he was staring at the television half asleep. “Get some rest love you need it.” And with that Drew slept better than he had weeks.

#drew starkey #drew outerbanks #drew starkey blurb #drew imagine #drew starkey x you #drew-starkey-imagine #drew starkey x reader #outer banks

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reynie-muldoons · 3 years

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'The Art of Conveyance and Round-Trippery' Liveblog!

Sorry this is a few days late!! I moved across the country this weekend, we drove like 13 hours within 2 days and we did a lot of heavy lifting. I'm exhausted, but the boxes are slowly emptying and I've been wanting to watch this episode so gd bad, so LESGO

Over halfway through the season!!!! That's absolutely surreal

1:11 oooh they're getting their royal fitting

1:22 LMAOO WTF 😂😂 Princess Diaries vibes

1:42 ✨CONFIDENCE✨

1:52 Alfonse is a perfect name for that guy HAHA

2:05 Nathaniel, my guy, you've made some points

2:11 "do you feel your power?" POWER RANGERS, GO

2:24 no no hesitation just prolly thinkin bout how he was caught cheatin

2:39 "can you not allow yourselves luxury?" okay fr I feel that I get Nice Things Guilt(tm) too easily

2:52 dayummmm let's talk about Sticky being a hat stall between Hufflepuff and Gryffindor, mans is brave as fuck under extreme pressure and loyal to the point of putting himself on the line

3:15 bro Sticky getting some recognition. Love to see it, he deserves it

3:19 "is that a coincidence? Or written in the stars?" IS DR. CURTAIN CATCHING ON THAT THEY KNEW EACH OTHER BEFORE OR LIKEEEE

3:49 WHAT WORD AROUND CAMPUS 😭😭😭 MY BOYS ARE NOT A MISTAKE HOW DARE YOU

4:09 why doess the action of Dr. Curtain putting the sash on them seem so nefarious

4:36 I dont really understand the whole pastel yellow, blue, and pink palette of the school but the boys both look pretty okay in their vest-sash getup

4:42 THE OPENINGGGGG. This shit slaps.

5:41 Kate and Constance look so fucking cute in that shot, dont ask me why but hnnggggg

5:54 sash rope 😂😭 kate, honey, that's a reach

6:09 it might feel buttery, but, my guy, it also looks buttery. It's literally the color of butter. Get yourself some crisco

6:24 I find it kinda interesting that they made up new riddles for the show, I'm almost positive that that one wasn't in the book. Correct me if I'm wrong though

7:03 "I'm not gonna apologize for knowing things" the sass. the ✨confidence✨. living for it

7:03 If they build on that it sets Sticky up really nicely for the arc in the second book where he starts to show off a little

7:15 tiny Constance who is constantly dressed in pink with cute little braids is the perfect medium for the most morbid comments 😂😂

7:55 Martina's hot in her uniform. Can't prove me wrong.

8:15 why does that make me sad 🥺 eat with your friendssss. iirc they only talked about eating at the Messenger table in the books

8:26 dipshits forgot their lunches. Seems Constance is holding the communal braincell atm

8:50 anyone have Guiness on speed dial? Reynie and Sticky have a submission for them

9:25 oh hello this was alluded to in the preview!!! Morse code is compromised, rip

10:05 so are Jackson and Jillson stuck with night guard duty all the time?? They've been outside at night a lot

10:18 ahhhhhh the little blinkie light, stopppp

10:25 MILLIGANNNNN!!!

10:25 so is this the point where he starts staying on the island with them????

10:39 so are they just like "fuck it we'll do it right before sundown" ???? Like Jackson and Jillson are still gonna be on the lookout, they aren't gonna chill just because it's not fully dark

10:50 did the kids.....just not tell them that Mr. Bloom was on the island 😂 nice oversight guys

11:05 MADGE TIME MADGE TIME

11:05 remind me to tell you guys a story about Madge, I may or may not have done something irl a few years ago that would make y'all proud 😂😂😂

11:16 idk why but it makes me so happy that they kept Madge as a peregrine falcon

11:37 Rhonda, my love, you have my heart in your hands

11:46 roll credits

12:05 THE HEAD SHAKE HAHAHAH

12:06 Awww man, I was so excited for Milligan to be on the island .-. He must have been scoping out the inlet

12:07 "they're quite regal" A. I read the subtitles as "legal" the first time and that's somehow really in character for him, and B. IS MILLIGAN GOING TO NAME HER???!? HER MAJESTY???? PLEASE I WOULD LOVE THAT SO MUCH

12:15 his grimace KILLS ME

12:17 the hard cut from Nicholas in a brown setting and brown suit to Nathaniel in a blue setting and blue suit was lowkey striking

12:36 are they looking up Morse code 😳 can you imagine if they wrote down the message and are now decoding it

12:41 omfg all that for a HAT 🙃 I feel stupid

12:51 two things: 1. Those walls are atrocious, and 2. Yeah, talk about Morse code in a louder voice Connie girl, you're just in a public hallway

13:03 I'm sorry but those orange pillar things are not the vibe

13:03 the golden gate bridge called, they want their arches back

13:10 please let Kate climb the tower before the end of season 1. please.

13:22 y'all are about to be flying something else 😎

13:33 cleansing breaths

13:47 OH HELLO MESSENGER DUTY ALREADY??

14:06 what the heck is that teal pole for 😭😭

14:12 blindfold timeeee

I'm so sorry but I'm exhausted, it's 11:30 pm on Sunday night right now, I'll finish this episode tomorrow morning after I get some sleepies

Good morningggg lesgetatit

14:50 "vomit of metal" ashhdjdjd

15:16 a wild Martina appears!

15:36 and if you folks look to your left, you'll see a wild Constance being the voice of reason once again

15:57 "lose the bucket" "I'm not gonna do that" HELL YEAH KATE

16:07 I get not having the bucket on the court lolol, I thought Martina was telling Kate to lose the bucket in general. Like, yeah, good luck convincing her to so that

16:35 show!Kate is much angrier than book!Kate and I'm still deciding how I feel about that. The Kate we've known from the books is a sunshine baby with looots of repressed trauma.

17:03 ......what is that. why is that.

17:11 WAIT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO BE REYNIE AHEHDJDJD

17:15 HI MADGE

17:41 the grand swell in the music makes me think it's going to go comically wrong

17:51 she's majestic because she's a queen 🥺

18:03 LMAO CALLED IT

18:14 Rhonda and Number Two getting at each other is such a sisterly thing to do 😂😂😂

18:37 ohhhhh? Someone's approaching? Miss Perumal perhaps????

18:45 YEAHHHHH BABY

18:50 PROTECTIVE MOM COMIN IN HOT!!!

19:22 THEYRE SO PRECIOUS 😭😭😭😭 I feel like I've been subconsciously starved for her and Mr. Benedict's interactions

19:36 died at that line in the one trailer

20:00 so Miss Perumal pulled a Sherlock Holmes. Love that for her

20:20 Cheri Tupintown??? Of all the aliases they could pick, Cheri Tupintown???

20:33 "Power in Truth Inc" that HAS to be something Rhonda came up with

21:01 you can literally watch Mr. Benedict realize that this is a woman not to be fucked with and he is CORRECT

21:23 "he's fine. Perfectly fine." At this, Mr. Benedict's pants caught aflame.

21:52 something about Constance sitting in on practice!!! It scratches an itch!!!!

22:19 "incorporate the helix. Live in the helix." Lord Helix is pleased with this offering.

22:26 so what I'm hearing is Kate is going to blow up on Constance for messing with the bucket

23:13 unrelated but Jillson'a shoes are cute

23:29 why does this room give off Johnny Depp's willy wonka vibes

24:13 that looks like a chair from a doctor's office waiting room 😭

25:29 they do be egg heads tho

26:02 baby girl, I have no idea why you're crying at weird art but let me dry your tears 🥺🥺

26:50 SHE FOUND ITTTT

27:27 okay Indiana Jones, go off

27:46 why did that kinda sound like Miss Perumal

28:43 the return of everyone's favorite, "enjoyable"

29:05 not that I'm not loving the ice breaker questions and the one-sided conversation, but I'm not loving it

29:22 oh so we're getting right into it aren't we

29:54 his eyes being open again makes this infinitely creepier

30:36 "where's your proof?" Miss Perumal doesnt fuck around!!!

31:29 you're telling me Constance has been there all day?? And Kate went to find her???? 🥺

31:58 oh so we're getting right to it then?? Kate addressing her independence and trust issues arc????

33:29 NEWS!!!!

33:49 CONSTANCE RIDING PIGGYBACK!!!!!!

34:04 okay, so they opened the murder hole, what are they gonna do now

34:59 Italian? 🤨 m'sir that is so fancy

34:59 fun story I learned Italian diction in college, so I know a little bit

35:16 "take your time" the whisperer says, immediately repeating the prompt to get the answer sooner

35:31 theeeeere it is

35:46 SOMETHING ABOUT THE WHISPERER SAYING "YOU ARE HOME" 😭😭😭 the show really played up the cult shit!!

36:02 Kate being protective of Constance 🥺

36:20 ohhh shit is it time for Connie girl to have double Reynie? Double Sticky?

36:36 STICKY

36:52 "what kind of nonsense?" HAVE THEY NOT ASKED THAT BEFORE THIS?????

37:14 "and your tiny brain can somehow pick it up!!" KATE STOP 😂😂😂

37:16 "I knew you had to be special in some way." WE DONT HAVE TIME TO UNPACK ALL OF THAT

37:51 she's right, this is disregard for their safety. The show made Mr. Benedict and his team a lot more back-alley and dishonest, and Miss Perumal has every reason to be pissed

38:30 oh good they finally remembered he has narcolepsy

39:38 and the best mom award goes to:

40:38 I was gonna say that this hallway is how I imagined the KEEP in riddle of ages but then I remembered that (spoilers) the Institute is the KEEP

40:46 oh, hello propoganda

41:10 that's the other person Rhonda couldn't contact, along with Mr. Bloom. This has to be the brainsweeping process

41:22 yeppppp

41:44 this dark doctor's office theme gives me horror movie vibes

42:22 ohhhh, so that's how they replaced that scene where the four of them jump in a crate to hide and Sticky drops his glasses in the open

42:47 and so we've come to the part of the story where Sticky and Reynie become infinitely more conflicted

42:47 and since we've reached that point..... can we have the white knight scene? Pretty please? Please Disney I'm begging you-

43:12 so Reynie just figured that out without Constance? :/

44:03 love the manipulation

44:31 I'm sorry, the farm?

44:35 farm and forest????

45:16 "the Emergency has served its purpose" 😳 well okay then murder man

45:39 "one thought, one purpose" the hive mind rises once more

45:48 LOVE THE MANIPULATION

46:07 "what have you done to earn anyone's trust?" VALID

46:26 "please do!" WHY AM I EMOTIONAL

47:06 "we still have the falcon" that you do 😂

47:19 AYYY HERE WE GO!!! Time for Milligan to stay on the island??

47:49 ohhhh Constance, casual telepath strikes again

48:16 "stop it, Kate!" OOOOHHHHH

48:53 that line ("it would be nice to be unburdened") would be funny as shit if not for the fact that Constance is a telepath unbeknownst to herself and can both subconsciously perceive people's thoughts and hear the subliminal messages

49:20 HI MRS. PERUMAL!!!

49:25 wow, she's really going through with it 😳 not that I doubted her, but still, that's dedication

49:39 OH SHIT

50:17 oh, so he's an asshole to SQ too. Got it. Torches and pitchforks? Ready to kick his ass?

50:40 "for the moment, anyway" FUCKIN WHAT

This episode was really good!!! They covered a LOT. I hope Miss Perumal comes back to the group and talks about her findings, I hope Milligan goes to get the kids and they tell him no, and I hope they get that classic 4-person Society brainstorming and binding time that hits that sweet spot

#mbs disney+#mbs liveblog #the art of conveyance and round trippery #the mysterious benedict society #charity's talkies

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petri808 · 3 years

Text

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33-Epilogue

Neither Lucy nor Natsu sat through the closing arguments, but according to Gajeel the defense stood firmly on their case for insanity. Touka’s attorney argued that his client suffered from a disorder that should put her in a hospital for treatment, not a jail cell, and not only that, but the so-called victims in the case drove her to do what she did. It was a very risky move to blame the victims. Of course, the prosecution countered that not only did Touka not suffer from any condition but that this was a simple case of jealousy gone wrong. Natsu and Lucy were innocent victims of a selfish woman who tried to kill them. Period, and for that she should go to prison for the maximum sentence allowed.

The prosecutor implored to the jurors heartstrings. “You saw the effects that Ms. Shiromajyo caused to her victims. The tears shed on the stand and the genuine fear in Ms. Heartfilia’s testimony as she recounted the events in question. Ladies and gentlemen, this young woman stared death in the face and watched her boyfriend almost get killed by the defendant. They had to fight to survive! Ms. Heartfilia and Mr. Dragneel have experienced something that no one should ever go through.” He gestured at the timeline board facing them. “Ms. Shiromajyo stalked multiple people over the course of several years to reach her goal, intimidating people that really had nothing to do with her. Ms. Shiromajyo paid a person to kill Ms. Strauss, threatening and intimidating her. And most of all, ultimately took this whole situation into her own hands when all of her efforts didn’t work out. She is a danger to society. I urge you, the jury to give her victims the peace of mind that she’ll be off the streets in a cell getting the treatment that she needs, and the punishment she deserves.”

It was a nerve wracking time for the victims as they waited outside of the court room for the jury to deliberate. Lucy and Natsu stayed in a side room with the prosecutor along with their closest friends and family there to support them. The prosecutor assured them that they’d done their best and the odds were in their favor. But of course, it only took one hold out to cause a mistrial, and Lucy didn’t know if she could go through this again. She was already unhappy that even if convicted, Japan’s sentencing structures were not as stringent as other countries.

The jury deliberated for four hours before reaching a verdict pronouncing Touka guilty of all charges. Upon hearing the guilty decision, Lucy and Natsu slipped back into the court room to hear the final disposition.

“Rise Ms. Shiromajyo.” The judge then read the decision to the standing defendant. “You have been found guilty by this court of two counts of attempted murder that caused injury. One count of kidnapping for profit. And three counts of intimidation. Do you have any last statement to make to the court before I render sentencing?”

Touka hung her head as if resigned to her fate. “Yes...” Surprisingly, to all those in the courtroom, she apologized for her actions. “I see now how much pain I caused to everyone because I couldn’t control myself and I hope one day they’ll forgive me for it.”

But her words of contrition were too little, too late. The judge sentenced Touka to the maximum of the highest offense, which was 15 years with work, but instead of the work condition, imposed a special circumstance that Touka be ordered to undergo mandatory psychological treatment while in custody and to adhere to any treatments and medications prescribed for her own good.

“Ms. Shiromajyo,” the judge spoke directly to the woman. “You’ve apologized at the end, but I hope you truly feel that way. Based on all of the evidence presented in court, your actions were clearly towards a one-sided love affair with a man who wanted nothing to do with you, and for that you tried to punish an innocent woman who got in your way. I do not believe, and the jury agreed, that you do not suffer from a legal defense of mental defect, however you should spend the time in prison to get your mind right again, so that when you re-enter society in the future, you’ll no longer suffer from whatever emotional problems brought you here in the first place. You are very lucky that I cannot under the law sentence you to concurrent sentences for every single charge. Bailiff, take custody of the prisoner. This case is adjourned.”

As the final gavel bang echoed in the court room, Natsu and Lucy who’d made it in time to hear it all, broke down in tears and elation as the court room erupted in cheers around them. A rarity for the poised population. This case was certainly anything but common for Japan, especially because the perpetrator was a woman and journalists had kept the public up to date with its progress. A lot of people were affected by this case personally, but the fear of what Touka had done rang cold for onlookers too. For the public, the idea that someone you may know could harbor ill will and do something this heinous was a scary proposition.

While the case was now over, Lucy knew her own struggles with anxiety were not, despite the tiny relief she’d felt in hearing the words guilty. She’d made it through the trial by sheer determination, but the experience had set her back in her progress. Reliving all the worst events and being grilled by the defense had re-traumatized her. Not all the way regressed, but the nightmares were back anew, starting immediately after her recall testimony.

It wasn’t just the old memories that haunted Lucy, but a new, troubling thought brought out during that testimony. When the defense attorney tried to make her think she was just as bad as Touka, there was a point when she thought... was it true? And the more she pondered, the worst the correlation became despite her loved ones conviction that she was nothing like the woman. Because... why not? If Touka’s deluded mind really believed she was protecting what was hers, well isn’t that the same logic Lucy used to defend herself and Natsu? Then there was the rage she’d felt. Was the attorney, right? If Natsu hadn’t stopped her from beating the woman, would she have killed Touka? Did that mean she had a killer instinct too?

All the publicity surrounding the trial didn’t help one bit. Just trying to get out of the court room after the verdict had been a complete circus of cameras flashing and microphones being shoved in the couples faces wanting their opinions of the verdict. Oh, how Lucy wanted to scream in their faces! How do they think they’d feel?! Yes, it felt great to be vindicated, but 15 years for almost killing them? Where were their assurances that when Touka was released, she wouldn’t pick right back up where she’d left off and hunt them down?

All these irrational thoughts fueling the new regression were different from before. Lucy didn’t feel as anxious. She was a little depressed, but now she was also— angry.

When she arrived at her therapy session without Natsu, Lucy sat on the couch facing the woman with her arms crossed. The therapist was quick to note the way in which she was holding her poise because it wasn’t a comforting arm cross, but a firm one. The muscles in her forearms were tense along with the tight lipped and brows furrowed expression gracing Lucy’s face.

“Well, this is certainly new,” the woman put her notebook down as she spoke. “Something has changed, shall we talk about it?”

Lucy’s hands clenched firmly as her eyes look away slightly. “I had a small argument with Natsu this morning.”

“I get the impression it wasn’t small.”

“Okay! It was a big fight! Happy?!” Lucy’s arms unfurled and gesticulated. “I don’t even know why it got out of hand, but it did.”

“Tell me what happened and let’s figure it out together.”

“Tch,” Lucy crossed her arms again and looked away. “I woke up from a nightmare. He started comforting me like he al—ways does, and I told him to stop. But he didn’t.”

“Why’d you tell him to stop?”

“I don’t know... I was just, irritated.”

“With him?”

“Yes... No— both, I don’t fucking know! Just pissed off, okay?! I was just angry and didn’t wanna be bothered!”

“I see... and how did Natsu react?”

“He, well, um,” Lucy’s shoulders dropped a bit. “He just said okay, I’ll give you space if you want it and left the bedroom. And we haven’t spoken since then.”

“It sounds like Natsu respected your wishes to back off. But why is that making you so angry?”

The therapists question brought instant tears pooling in Lucy’s eyes. She knew why, but she didn’t know why, and holding it in was tearing her apart. But she also didn’t know how to articulate all of the random thoughts plaguing her in a way that made sense. So, at that moment she just broke. Through fitful sobs the cacophony of broken, fragmented thoughts spewed out in no logical manner. Lucy just spoke every word and sentence that came to mind as the therapist sat quietly listening.

This was her first session since the trial had ended, so all of the wounds were painfully fresh. Shouldn’t she be happy it was over? They were free for now and it was time to move forward but all she could think about were the things the attorney had said. And that made her angry with herself. Lucy’s always thought she was so much stronger, yet this experience or rather the effects left her feeling lost and broken, and weak. Even more infuriating for her, she knew these thoughts were completely irrational! It’s one thing to not understand, it’s another to know how stupid it sounded and not be able to fight back against it. Weak. That’s what it made her feel. Stupid and weak for losing herself. They may have won against Touka, but Touka had taken something away and Lucy feared she’d lost it forever.

Who she was.

The therapist moved over to the couch and hugged tightly to a sobbing Lucy, stroking her hair and cradling her head. Comforting in silence allowed the blonde to just cry, as hard as she needed to and release everything that had been held inside where it shouldn’t stay. When the tears slowed, and Lucy’s breathing had the normalized, the therapist spoke softly.

“You’re not broken, Lucy, and you’re not dumb. You’re rightfully in pain after everything you’ve experienced, and that’s okay too.”

“How is that okay?” Lucy sniffled. “It shouldn’t be okay!”

“It’s not fair what you had to endure but being upset and feeling pain because of it means you’re human. Even the anger is a good feeling right now.”

Lucy snorts an annoyed laugh at such a ridiculous sounding statement. Anger being, okay?!

“There are positives we can take from this.”

Again, Lucy huffs. “Yeah, right. That makes a lot of sense.”

The therapist pulls back and settles into a more professional pose to continue. “Your anger means you care. Think about it, if you didn’t care, you wouldn’t get angry, right?”

“I guess...”

“In all these months, this is the first time I am seeing a deep passion coming from you. Lucy you aren’t really lost, and this anger are those feelings screaming ‘I’m still here!’ You can use that same energy to push forward.”

“But what about Natsu?” Lucy’s eyes cloud up. “I think I really made him mad a-and I don’t want to lose him.”

“Did he come with you today?”

“Yeah, he’s in the waiting room.” Lucy mumbled through a frown. “But I think he just came cause he felt obligated.”

The therapists eyes softened along with her tone. “I have a feeling that’s not the case. He might feel hurt and confused right now, but I’m sure he still loves you deeply. Maybe we should bring him in here and talk things over? That way I can help you through it.”

Lucy paused for a moment before nodding weakly. “I’d like that.”

The therapist brought Natsu into the room and as soon as he saw the puffy red eyes and Lucy’s disheveled appearance immediately stumbled over and hugged onto her with tears of his own flowing down, apologizing over and over for upsetting her that morning.

Although Lucy stiffened up at first when he’d hugged her in fear of what he might say, his words instead stunned her. All along she’d felt the fight was her fault, not his. She’d been the bitch to him and now his pain brought her tears back along with a loss of her anger. “It’s not your fault,” she hugged him back. “I was angry with myself and took it out on you. That wasn’t fair.”

“But I shouldn’t have walked away like I did.”

“No,” Lucy exhaled, “you did the right thing. I... I needed something to wake me up.”

Natsu pulled back in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Lucy smiled weakly. “Coming here mad, I couldn’t hide it so she made me talk about it. Now I see how that needed that to happen and I feel a lot better because of it. I was just worried you’d hate me for the way I acted.”

“I could never hate you,” Natsu smiled and cupped Lucy’s cheeks. “I told you, you’re stuck with me.”

By that point, the therapist had gone back to her own chair and with the session almost over for that day, addressed the couple together. “Lucy right now I think you are at a very good point in your progress. Your anxiety had gotten better, the depression is still there, but it’s not as debilitating as it was before, so now it’s time to take the next step in the healing process. You’d mentioned wanting going back to school and the next semester starts in a month. Perhaps it’s time to consider going back?”

“I-I don’t know if I could handle full time...”

“Maybe reach out to the school and see if they’ll work with you on a modified schedule?”

“I guess I could...”

“And I’ll help you,” Natsu added on as he squeezed Lucy’s hand. “They’ve been really supportive so far.”

Lucy let out a long exhale. “Okay. I’ll give it a shot.”

“I’ve got another suggestion too,” Natsu added. “If you get angry, you could take it out with a physical sport or something.”

“That’s actually a good outlet,” the therapist agreed. “Is there anything you’re interested in?”

“Um...” Lucy thought about for a couple minutes. “I thought about taking self-defense classes.”

“That would be cool! Maybe we can go together?”

“I’d really, really like that.” And first time in a long time, Lucy truly meant it.

#nalu #nalu au #nalu fan fic #nalu fan fiction #Natsu dragneel #Lucy heartfilia #Natsu x lucy #stangers on a train #ch 31

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