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flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash · 3 years

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Irresistible Danger - Part 57

Synopsis: After being caught outside the compound on your own, Negan decides to punish you in the best way possible ;)

Words: 3,388

Warnings: nsfw, smut, swearing

ID Masterlist can be found HERE

Masterlist of all my fics can be found HERE

Author’s Note: We’re interrupting the emotions and angst for a healthy dose of smut in this one.

A Wonderfully Well-F*cked Morning

You drifted to consciousness on a wave of pleasure, the sensations happening below your waist causing you to automatically arch your back and reach down. When your fingers came in contact with thick, soft hair at the same time that a wet tongue hit your clit, your brain finally decided to come online. Eyes opening in surprise, you looked down and found the breathtaking visual of Negan’s gorgeous face buried between your thighs.

Holy shit, what a way to start the day.

Glancing up, his mouth curled in a soul-stealing grin at the sight of you awake and watching. His “mornin’ doll” was spoken directly to your soaked cunt, the rumbled vibration of the words making you give a small moan and open your thighs wider, so he could do as he wished.

And, apparently, what he wished was to drive you absolutely mad with desire. The distant and withdrawn Negan of last night was gone, and in his place was the playful and passionate man before you. He teased with soft kisses along the crease at the top of your thigh and lazy laps of his tongue that just barely grazed where you needed them. When you tried to lift your hips in search of more friction, his large hands pinned them to the mattress.

It wasn’t long before you had a deathgrip on his hair, thighs trembling, and even the muscles in your stomach starting to quiver. And yet still he continued, the devilish gleam in his eyes when he glanced up at you while gently sucking your clit almost enough to send you over the edge, until he backed off and went back to nipping at your inner thighs instead.

You were just about to beg, plead, and promise whatever he wanted, including your soul, when a muffled knocking sound broke through the top layer of hazy desire shrouding you. Negan ignored the noise, continuing with his delicious torture so that you almost instantly forgot the sound had ever happened. But then it came again a few seconds later, this time loud and sharp...and right outside the bedroom door.

Letting go of his hair and jolting up onto your elbows, you looked down at Negan with wide eyes. He had finally lifted his head from your pussy, the sight of his lips glistening with your wetness causing a soft moan to escape that you prayed whoever was at the door didn’t hear.

“Fucking leave!” he yelled in that no-nonsense tone that both terrified and yet also made an extra trickle of wetness run down your thigh.

The voice that responded was muffled through the door, but still unmistakably Simon. “Sorry, boss, but there’s a situation that needs your urgent attention in meeting room C.”

Cursing harshly, Negan dropped his forehead to your lower stomach for a few seconds before lifting his head and yelling back, “I’ll fucking be there in 5!”

You stared in the direction of the office and listened for a few seconds until the unmistakable sound of Simon banging the door closed sounded (perhaps a bit louder than needed, as if he was letting you know that he was gone). You turned back to Negan, who now had a devious smirk on his face as he looked up at you.

Giving a doubtful expression, you said, “Only five minutes?”

“Oh, doll,” he chuckled, head ducking down so the rest was muffled against your wet flesh. “That’s plenty of time.”

It was then that you realized just how much he had been toying with you before, as his demeanor instantly changed from playful to intense, and he set to work on your cunt. He knew just where to nip and lick, and when he latched onto your clit and sucked with the perfect amount of pressure, you shot off like a rocket, coming in less than a minute from when Simon had left.

Still panting and sprawled across the mattress, you watched dazedly as he got up and went to his armoire for clothes to get dressed. He winced when tucking his erection into the boxer briefs and dark grey pants, and the bulge made your mouth water.

“What about you?” you asked with a nod in his cock’s direction.

Pulling on his boots, he then straightened and trailed desire-bright eyes over your sated form spread out on his bed. “I thought I already made that clear, doll,” he quipped.

Unsure if it was the post-orgasm haze making you so dense or if he was purposely being vague, you asked, “What’s that?”

Walking around the side of the bed fully dressed, while you lay totally naked with thighs still spread and naked chest heaving, he ran a warm, calloused hand down over your throat and the tips of your breasts before answering.

“That this relationship is about more than me getting my fucking rocks off.”

His hand moved lower, between your thighs, and he watched as if mesmerized at how you shuddered and arched into the feel of his touch on your still-sensitive flesh. “However, that being said-” he backed up a step and pointed at you with a stern look on his face, “-don’t fucking move from that bed until I get back.”

He then tucked his tongue into his cheek, gave a playful wink, and was gone. Staring up at the ceiling, you figured this was one order you’d gladly follow, seeing as how your muscles wouldn’t be able to function properly enough to help you stand, anyways. It wasn’t until a couple minutes after he was gone that you sat straight up on the bed at the remembrance of his earlier words.

He had called it a relationship!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Forty-five minutes later and you, unsurprisingly, were in fact not able to follow his order, after all. Which shouldn’t be a surprise because, well, it was you we were talking about here, and when did you ever listen?

You had tried though, really you had. After Negan left, and your breathing and heart rate had returned to normal, you sat up against the headboard to wait. Your eyes landed on a book that was open facedown on his bedside table, and the parallel to your own reading habits made you smile. Picking it up, you saw that it was some sort of psychological thriller. Making a note of what page it had been opened to, you huddled down into the plush mattress, the soft black headboard at your back, and started reading from the beginning.

However, when the black and grey wall clock near the door ticked by almost an hour that he had been gone, you put the book down and sighed in annoyance. Whatever the emergency meeting had been about, it looked as though it might take a while, and you didn’t enjoy the thought of sitting here all morning and afternoon waiting, as if at his beck and call. Your brain also unhelpfully threw out the reminder of your previous plan not to have sex with Negan until a serious conversation was had about that damned padlocked box of unanswered questions. The subconscious, exasperated with the brain pulling this bullshit so early in the morning, yelled at it to please shut the hell up.

Fuck it, you can at least freshen up a bit before he gets back, you thought while tossing off the sheet and standing from the bed. Stretching pleasantly sore muscles, you wandered over to the large armoire and tugged open one of the drawers. Smiling at how neatly the clothes inside were folded, you selected a moss green shirt and pulled it over your head. It was much baggier than his usual style, and you had never seen him wear it before, making you wonder if he ever got a chance to take off his leader armor and just sit around relaxing the day away in baggy sweats with a good book. Probably not, seeing as how he couldn’t even enjoy a perfectly delightful you-flavored breakfast without being interrupted.

Heading into the bathroom to relieve your bladder and then wash your hands and face, you looked in the large mirror. Finger-combing hair that had seen better days, you then opened up some of the drawers under the sink that you hadn’t checked yet, mostly out of nosey curiosity. Finding one at the bottom that was stocked full of extra bars of soap, toothpaste, and still-packaged toothbrushes, you let out a tiny whoop of joy. Jackpot!

Opening a green and white toothbrush, you grabbed the already opened toothpaste that was on the countertop and squeezed a dollop onto the brush. Giving a sigh of happiness at the clean, minty taste, you weren’t even worried about Negan being upset you had stolen one of his unopened brushes. Especially since you’d have fresh breath when he crawled back in the bed with you and-

That fantasy died a quick death when the reflection of the man himself stepped into view while you were mid-brush. Locking eyes with him in the mirror, you saw a flicker of something in his expression as he took you in, standing there in his shirt and brushing your teeth with his personal supplies.

“I thought I told you to be in the fucking bed when I got back,” he said, but his voice didn’t have the extra little growl that signified he was truly pissed. In fact, he almost sounded amused.

Before you could even remove the toothbrush to respond, he stepped up behind you so that his front was pressed into your back. “Nevermind, doll,” he drawled while still holding your gaze in the mirror. “This’ll work too.”

You almost choked on toothpaste from gasping at the feel of his large, rough hands running up under the hem of the shirt and over your bare hips. Quickly leaning down to spit out the paste into the sink, you turned on the water and used a cupped hand to rinse out your mouth as he continued rubbing his palms along your torso and down over the outside of your thighs. When you put the toothbrush down and straightened, his mouth immediately attacked the back of your neck, sucking and nipping lightly. His hands moved further up under the shirt to cup your breasts, and his deft fingers pinched and twisted sensitive nipples at the same time that he ground his hips against your bare ass, letting you feel the ridge of his erection through the rough fabric of the pants.

You moaned softly and pressed back into him, almost overwhelmed by how quickly he had barged in and taken control of your body’s reaction. Any thoughts of self-doubt or questions of where you stood with him temporarily flew out the window in the face of the onslaught of intense and thorough possession he was directing your way.

Unlike when you first woke up this morning, no part of him was teasing or going slow this time around. He quickly pulled the baggy shirt up over your head, and the sight of you totally bare made a groan punch from his chest.

He whipped his own shirt and pants off in a quick flurry of movement before leaning in so that his warm chest was pressed into your back as he opened one of the drawers at your hip and pulled out a condom.

Wasting no time, he opened it and rolled it down the swollen cock pressing into the small of your back. When he bent his knees to line up with your entrance, you assisted by hiking a knee up on the edge of the countertop, presenting yourself to him in a way that made him pause for a moment, as if in awe, before plunging inside you with a fierce thrust and strangled growl against the back of your neck.

You looked up and were instantly transfixed by the sight in the mirror. Negan’s tattooed, leanly muscled form towered over yours, his rough edges and possessive thrusts juxtaposed against your softer curves and arching form.

You watched his reflection as he gripped your hips and looked down between your bodies to watch himself fuck you, the sight making you moan and clench around his cock. His gaze lifted, amber eyes locking on yours in the mirror.

One of his hands left your hip, trailing hungrily around the front of your body and up over your stomach and breasts before wrapping long fingers around the front of your throat. The grip was light, but the ruthless ownership behind both it and his pumping hips made your eyes flutter closed in ecstasy.

He leaned in over you, breath coming in hot strikes against the side of your throat. “You like this, don’t you, pretty girl? Like being all. Fucking. Mine.”

The last words were each punctuated by a harsh thrust, making you cry out and open lust-filled eyes. His face was there beside your own, jaw clenched as he watched your reflection in the mirror with a fierce, almost pained expression. He let out a little snarl before turning his mouth to nip at the curve of your shoulder, and that combined with his grip at your throat and heavy, thick cock fucking you against the counter all combined to throw you into an orgasm without warning. He groaned as you shuddered and clenched in his hold, his gravel over sandpaper voice in your ear.

“Yes, milk my fucking cock.”

Coming down off the wave of pleasure, you realized that his pace hadn’t slowed down, that he hadn’t finished yet. You lowered the leg propped up on the counter, needing both feet braced against the cool, tiled floor to keep your shaky body steady.

Your gaze dropped, taking in the reflection of what was happening between your thighs. Both his cock and the inside of your thighs glistened with a coating of your release, and he felt even bigger inside of you, now that your walls were a little swollen and tender from both the friction of his cock and your recent orgasm. Right when his movements became almost too overwhelming against your oversensitized cunt, and you were about to ask for a break, he paused his thrusts and removed the hand from around your throat.

Your thought that he was granting you a reprieve was instantly proven wrong when he gave a growled warning of, “Brace your arms on the sink,” right before his forearms hooked down under both your knees and lifted your entire lower body off the ground. Since the action pushed you forward, your body had no choice but to do as he said, forearms holding the weight of your upper body against the surface of the sink while your lower half hung suspended at the perfect height for his cock.

He resumed his quick pace, fucking into you relentlessly. And, surprisingly, instead of becoming too much, the sensations pulled back from borderline painful and started to feel pleasurable again. Very pleasurable.

Your whimper caused him to give a low moan in response, and his voice came through gritted teeth. “That’s it, doll. Fucking come for me again.”

Trying to find your voice, you wanted to say that you weren’t sure if that was possible, that coming again so soon wasn’t likely. Instead, the words choked in your throat when he bent down and licked up your spine before sucking roughly on the skin of your back. He then ground his cock into you so hard that your pelvis pushed against the edge of the counter, the hard surface rubbing over your clit in exactly the right way needed to send your body spasming into a second orgasm.

You lost yourself in pleasure that had no beginning and no end, just endless heavy waves of bliss. Dimly, you heard him give a groan of completion as he gave a few sharp, hard thrusts, and then his body went still. He allowed your legs to lower to the tiled floor, and thank god for being braced on the countertop, otherwise you would’ve crumpled in a quivery heap at his feet.

You took in the reflection of both you and Negan’s sex-dazed expressions, skin flushed and dewy with sweat despite the cool bathroom. A satisfied smile curved his lips, and you watched in the mirror as he bent down and kissed the curve where your neck met shoulder, the scratch of his beard rising goosebumps to the already sensitive flesh. He hummed happily against your skin, and you wished that the two of you could stay in this intimate bubble forever. That no outside intruders or internal thoughts could stand in the way of feeling like this with him every single day.

As if he were thinking something similar, he ran a warm hand down over the curve of your hip and said in a sexy, husky voice, “Now that is a perfect fucking way to finish off the morning.”

Unable to help a dreamy smile in return, you were finally able to fully stand up from the counter without fear of your legs giving out. Turning in his hold, you twined arms up around his neck and tugged him down for a proper kiss involving lips and tongues and even a hint of teeth.

You pulled away after a few long moments, and offered, “What are your plans for today?”

Biting his lip and giving one of his signature cheeky grins, he replied, “I have to go over some new outpost security measures with Simon this afternoon. However…” his hands cupped your ass and kneaded possessively, “my evening is all fucking yours.”

Lord, but you liked the sound of that. Standing on tiptoe and placing another, softer kiss to his lips, you suggested, “How about I bring us dinner around 7:30?”

“I’ll be waiting,” he replied with one last squeeze of his hands before he stepped away to dispose of the condom and gather both your clothes off the tiles.

The men had brought back some freshly butchered deer meat from the supply run, and Ben had been excited to try making stew with both it and vegetables from the garden. Thinking of Ben was also a reminder that you had promised to hang out with him today. You were very curious to hear details about what was going on with him and Simon, not to mention needing a friend to talk through some of your own worries regarding Negan.

Pulling the baggy green shirt back on, you preceded him into the bedroom and grabbed your jeans from where they had been discarded on the floor last night. You didn’t want to return his shirt, so tucked it into the jeans to hide the obviously ill-fitting length of it before pulling on your sneakers. Turning, you found an also fully-dressed Negan watching you. His gaze took in the outfit with an expression that was difficult to decipher, but seemed somewhere between appreciative and smug at the sight of you in his shirt.

Struggling not to roll your eyes or make a comment about “males and their strange possessiveness”, you walked out of the bedroom with him following behind. Stopping at the closed office door, you turned and looked up at him, unable to resist the urge to reach up and run your fingers down over his bearded cheek. He bent and gave you one final kiss in return, then opened the door and watched you leave.

You weren’t able to contain the happy grin tipping up the corners of your mouth. Not even the sudden appearance of the brain, who was dragging the padlocked box of questions, could dim your mood. The subconscious strode happily at your side, but as the brain fell more and more behind, struggling to keep up with the heavy metal box, it turned with a sigh and went back to help.

I know. I know! We’ll have a conversation with him tonight; open up the box and air out some of those unanswered questions. But for right now, we’re going to bask in the afterglow of such a wonderfully well-fucked morning.

The brain and subconscious didn’t argue, just huffed and puffed as they worked together to finally pick the box up off the ground. Balancing the heavy weight between them, they gave each other exasperated looks, then hurried down the hall after you.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

#negan #twd #negan smut #negan fanfics #negan fanfiction #irresistible danger #ash writes #the walking dead #twd negan #negan's thirst squad #negan x you #negan slow burn #slow burn #negan x reader #the walking dead negan #fanfic #fanfiction

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cjtheghost-14 · 3 years

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Chocolate Covered Espresso Beans - Pidge Gunderson x Reader

Requests: None (but please give me some)

Notes: This came to me while I was eating chocolate covered espresso beans at 3:42 am last night, why do you ask?

Summary: Your the White Paladin on team Voltron, and you also happen to be dating the little gremlin piloting the Green Lion. Pidge Gunderson. Lately, you haven’t been able to have much alone time, what, with saving the Universe and all. The only downtime the two of you have is at night, and the castle has run out of coffee. Your body can’t handle it, and you pass out as soon as you get in bed with your girlfriend. Pidge, on the other hand, doesn’t need coffee to stay awake. It’s not like she has a choice, anyhow. She’s always up late working on upgrades for the castle. You’ve been upset about the lack of contact the two of you have been having lately, and mad at yourself for always falling asleep. What are you meant to do without coffee? Then you remember something you smuggled aboard when you left Earth.

Warnings: Some good old fluff, being sleep deprived, stress, caffeine over load, swearing

(sorry this took so long, blame my hectic life!)

Is it 11:00 pm already? How could that be right? You check your watch again, your vision beginning to blur from exhaustion. You take a sharp breath in, being able to just make out the time. It was, in fact, 11:00 pm. You rub your eyes in an attempt to just simply wipe the sleepiness away. Today was an unusually long day for the whole team. Zarkon apparently didn't know the meaning of sleep since his attacks have been relentless. Just today the team saved two planets. Although afterwards, the castle had been so severely damaged that we spent the rest of the day trying to fix it. Coran only let you stop a few minutes ago. He could’ve kept you longer, if not for that fact that you were practically falling asleep while re adjusting the teludav. You didn’t know if your girlfriend, Pidge, was even going to be in her room but you drag your feet in it’s direction anyway. She was always the busiest when it came to castle repairs, leaving you alone with your thoughts. After leaving your family, maybe some quality time with your depressing brain wasn’t the best idea. You have never felt more alone. Loneliness was corrosive, eating away at your heart until it left only a shell of a human. It could arguably be the worst feeling someone could feel. And ever since you left earth to become a paladin, that very feeling has taken over your already fragile mind. You depended on Pidge to pull you through, but you’ve barely been able to see her lately. Now, of course, you had the rest of the team beside you. You loved cooking with Hunk, listening to Coran’s weird stories and Allura’s beautiful ones. You loved spending time with Lance, he was your best friend after all, and you grew up with Shiro and Keith. Shiro was like a Dad to you, as Keith was like your brother. You loved them all with your whole heart. But those bonds paled in comparison to your feelings for Pidge. Your heart ached thinking about her. All you wanted to do was hold her in your arms. The thought made you walk faster, rounding the corner and not hesitating to barrel into Pidge’s messy room. You stumble over a box of electronics, your eyes landing on Pidge sitting on her bed, fiddling with something glowing. Your face breaks into a huge grin as you see her sitting there, her face bathed in blue light, glasses askew on her nose, pictures of you and her stuck on the wall behind her.

“Pidge!” You exclaim, surprised that she was actually here.

Her head shoots up, the lazy smile you love making its way onto her face. “Y/N!”

You run over to her, jumping on the bad, grabbing her face and slamming your lips onto hers. She laughs, pulling away slightly to look at you. “As much as I loved that, Y/N, I have work I need to do.”

“But I haven't seen you in days!” You say, your hopes sinking like lead.

“I know, love, but I really can’t relax now. Coran needs this by tomorrow morning. Just give me a few minutes, I’m almost done.” She says, turning her attention back to whatever she was working on.

You sigh, laying down. You can feel all of the anxiety from the past month weighing on your chest, crushing you with no hope of escape. You had hoped to talk to Pidge about it, but she was too busy, yet again. It wasn’t her fault, of course. It was Zarkons. But it didn't matter, you just needed someone to talk to. You knew that wasn't going to happen tonight though. When Pidge says she only needs a few minutes, she means she needs a few hours. Yet you decide to try to stay awake anyway, her presence was enough to make you feel better. But before you get to have any say in the matter, sleep grabs you by its claws, dragging you under.

***

You peel your eyes open, only to be met by complete darkness. You blink once, twice, trying to understand what happened. Then you realize, you fell asleep. You sit up suddenly, slamming your hand down on the mattress.

“Quiznak!”

You bring your watch up to your face, squinting, reading with difficulty the numbers 5:33 AM. Not again! How did you fall asleep again? Every rare time Pidge is actually in her room when you are, you end up falling asleep before you can talk to her. In a rush of adrenaline you bolt out of bed, maneuvering through the dark and into the hallway. Your footsteps echo through the castle as you round a corner into Lance’s room. You power off his white noise machine with a slam of your hands as you shout, “Lance!”

He bolts up, his eye mask sliding off of his face as he cries out in alarm. “I remember our bonding moment!” His head whips over to you, eyes widening. “O-oh! Y/N, w-what are you doing here?” He asks, voice rising an octave in embarrassment.

“I fell asleep!” You shout, throwing your hands in the air as you plop down on the bed next to him.

“That's why you woke me up?” He yells in exasperation, laying back down. “Go back to bed you freaking maniac” He says, kicking you off the bed with his foot. “I need my beauty sleep.”

“Too late for that.” You say sarcastically, standing up and grabbing his pillow from under his head, hitting him. “Get up!”

He yells out, bolting up, grabbing the pillow out of your hands. “I will shoot you!”

“Noted. But Lance, I fell asleep again. Now who knows when I’m going to even see Pidge again. Weeks? Months?” You sigh, sitting back down on the bed, staring at your hands.

Lance’s expression softens at the tone of your voice, resting a hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry Y/N, I know it's been tough. But don't we have coffee in the kitchen? I swear Hunk smuggled some in.”

“We’re out.” You say sadly, shaking your head. “I have no way to stay awake, bu-” Your eyes widen suddenly, an idea forming in your head. “Wait, Lance, you're a genius!”

“I know.” He says triumphantly, crossing his arms with a smug smile. “Wait, why am I a genius?”

You chuckle, getting up, beginning to walk out of the room as you explain your idea. “The coffee Hunk smuggled in might be gone, but I totally forgot about what I smuggled in. Chocolate covered espresso beans, my mom made them. God, it's perfect! Thanks for the idea Lance!”

“Anytime. And, oh, Y/N?” He calls out after you.

You stop before you reach the door, turning around. “Yeah?”

“About what I said… I absolutely do not remember Keith and I’s bonding moment that didn't even happen.”

“I’ll be sure to tell Keith you remember, he’ll be happy to hear.” You smirk, running out of the room.

“Y/N! I said I don't remember! Y/N come back!” Lance shouts, sticking his head out of the door. “Y/N!”

A Day Later

You skip into Pidge’s room, a new sense of energy engulfing you. To your delight, you find Pidge sitting on her bed.

“Hey, lovely.” You say, plopping down next to her.

“Hi, (Y/N)” She says, looking up momentarily from her project to kiss you on the cheek. “Sorry to do this again, but I’m gonna be busy for a while” She explains, frowning slightly, her nose scrunching up in the way that you adore.

“It's alright, I’ll be waiting.” You say, leaning back on the bed to watch her work. She smiles softly before turning her attention away. You watch her slim fingers for a moment, fiddling with another glowing object before you decide to pull out your small packet of chocolate covered espresso beans. Pidge stops for a moment, turning to look at you.

“Uh, whatcha got there?” She asks, peeking into the bag.

“Some chocolate covered espresso beans.” You say, smiling softly before popping one into your mouth.

“Oh.” She says, reaching a hand into the bag before stopping, looking up. “Can I have some?”

“Of course.”

She smiles brightly, taking a handful, popping a few in her mouth as well. “Ooh, these taste like the ones your mom makes. These will help me stay awake for this project, actually. Thanks love.”

“And these will also help me stay awake long enough to spend some time with you.” You say softly, your eyes drifting over her lips.

She smiles more, leaning forward and kissing you, sending an electric jolt through your body. This was just what you needed. You melt into the kiss, running your fingers through her soft hair. You were convinced this had to be what heaven felt like. And when you pull away, theres a lingering taste of chocolate covered espresso beans.

#pidge x reader #voltron #voltron imagines #pidge

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whump-me-all-night-long · 3 years

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Jeweler!Sapphire AU (not canon)

Welcome to 3k words of this amazing AU idea that may or may not become a multi-parter. No editing, we die like.. idk. Please let me know what y'all think!!

Tagging the usual group (let me know if you only want to be tagging in canon stuff): @newbornwhumperfly @unicornscotty @itsleighlove @whump-scribbles @getyourwhumphere @skunkandgrenade @penny-for-your-whump @lektric-whump @just-a-whump-lover @thelazywitchphotographer @restrainthenmaime @angstyachesplus @lilbitwhumpy @leaderofthebeanarmy @aquard-skaii @whumprincess @thatgaysnail @finaldreams1106 @reveriedeludesme @kemonoinuzuka @circlingravens @whumpasaurus101 @spicy-wendigo @femmewithadhd @wafflestakethecake @lonesome--hunter @as-a-matter-of-whump @broadwaybabe18 @whumpinggoodtime @temporary-whump-sideblog @dumb-and-lesbian let me know if you want to be added/removed!

CW: talk of death (in a pretty disrespectful manner), talk of human trafficking, intimate whumper, hair pulling, noncon touching, some pretty noncon vibes near the end, uhhh Saph/Dustin is a real asshole, let me know if I need to tag anything else!

Masterlist

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The sound of a ringing phone woke Dustin. With a groan, he rolled over in bed, blankets tangled around his legs. Blindly groping along his nightstand, he found his phone and answered the call, from an unknown number, blue eyes squinting against the flash of the bright screen.

“Yeah?” he answered, stifling a yawn.

“Is this Mr. Moore?” a timid male voice said.

Rubbing a hand across his face, Dustin sat up, glancing at the clock with a groan. “Yes, this is he,” he responded, voice tight. “Now who the fuck is calling me at four a.m.?”

A throat was cleared on the other end of the line. “Sorry to disturb you, sir, but I’m Nicholas Jameston.” There was a pause, as if he expected Dustin to recognize the name. “I’m your uncle’s lawyer.”

Dustin blinked, brow furrowing in confusion. “My uncle? You mean.. Uncle Spence?”

A curt “Yes, sir.”

“Okayyyy,” he drew out. “Listen, I haven’t talked to him in years. Since I left for college at least. Probably before even high school. You see, my dad and him, they didn’t really get along-” He cut himself off. Why was he telling this man anything? “Anyways, there must be some confusion. I don’t know why he wants his lawyer contacting me all of a sudden.” Shit, he thought. Did I break or steal something last time I was at his place? Is this what this is about?

There was an awkward beat of silence before the lawyer cleared his throat again. “No, sir, there’s no mistake or confusion. You see, you’re Mr. Spencer’s closest remaining blood relative.”

Dustin was really not awake enough for this conversation. “Just say what you need to and be done with it.”

“Your uncle is dead,” the lawyer finally said. “And you’re his sole heir.”

Dustin pulled up in his car, a shiny BMW he’d bought using his dad’s life insurance money a few years ago. He squinted against the darkness of early morning, checking the address again. This place looked less like a family home and more like a fortress. A prison.

He wondered, for the millionth time since getting rudely awoken and told that a man he’d met only a handful of times was a) dead and b) giving him everything, what exactly he was doing here. His dad must be rolling over in his grave. Not that Dustin particularly cared about that.

He knew that the brothers had never gotten along, that his dad, the older brother, had apparently “abandoned” the family business because it was “amoral,” but Dustin had never really been privy to the details. He rolled his eyes just thinking about his dad and his need to be righteous and perfect all the time.

That apparently had gone out the window at some point, but the bastard was too proud to go back to his brother - their parents were already dead by that time - and instead decided to start his own company, selling.. who knew? Certainly not Dustin. No, the young twenty-six-year-old was perfectly content enjoying his bachelor playboy lifestyle, feeding off mommy and daddy’s blood money.

“Mr. Moore?” A man was standing on the doorstep, fidgeting nervously with a thick manila envelope.

Dustin took one look at him and barely withheld a sigh. This man, short, balding, oily, was a lawyer alright. He raised one lazy eyebrow. “Jameson, I presume?” he called back, making his way slowly up the path to the door.

“Uh, it’s Jameston, sir,” the man corrected quickly.

Dustin didn’t bother to hide his smirk. “Whatever. Let’s just get this over with. It’s early and I have a busy day ahead of me. Left a pretty girl waiting for me to call. Wouldn’t want to disappoint.”

Not bothering to wait, Dustin stepped up to the door and opened it, stepping inside a grand foyer. He whistled softly, taking in the shimmering chandelier, the sweeping staircase, with a gold-woven rug running down the middle, and the many large and well-furnished rooms branching off from the entrance.

“Now this is a nice playhouse, huh?” he said, grinned indolently.

He saw Jameston’s jaw tighten fractionally. “Yes, sir,” he responded. “Now, I can give you a complete tour of the house now. However, Mr. Spencer’s real estate agent can do that when she arrives here in-” he glanced at his watch - a fake, Dustin had noticed - “a couple hours or so. Furthermore, there was a, erm, rather sensitive matter that Mr. Spencer tasked me with familiarizing you with personally.” He adjusted his tie slightly, clearly nervous, before motioning Dustin down one of the smaller hallways to the side.

His curiosity piqued, Dustin followed. “What do you mean? Oh, don’t tell me, was the old man into some shady illegal business? Drugs? Girls?”

Jameston shook his head, Adam's apple bobbing. “No sir. Your uncle, he was an.. art collector, of a sort. Well, he created his own art, really. However, it was not necessarily, um, legally acquired.”

Dustin barely held in a laugh at the lawyer’s clear panic. “Of course it wasn’t,” he scoffed. “Do you know how much shady shit has gone on in this family?” He couldn’t stop the bark of laughter this time. “Of course you do, you’re the lawyer.”

Jameston’s face flushed but he remained quiet until he reached an indiscreet door at the end of a short hall. If Dustin didn’t know any better, he’d assume it was a closet or something. Jameston cleared his throat as he opened the door. “Welcome to the Jewelry Box, sir.”

Carnelian sighed, his head falling back against the wall as he stretched his legs out along the small bed. The only sounds in the large room was the occasional movement from one of the others.

“That’s it,” he muttered, standing up and marching over to the glass wall. “Is anyone else wondering where the bastard is?” he called, frowning as he caught the gazes of several of the others.

Emerald just shook his head, silently warning him. Amethyst, however, scoffed, picking at her nails intently. “Why do you care?” she snapped. “It’s not like you’re ever doing anything but yelling and cursing.”

“So?” Carnelian shot back. “Aren’t you at least a little curious as to what’s going on?”

As if to answer his questions, he heard the door hiss open. Turning his gaze towards it, he felt his lips tugging down into a frown.

“Here we go again,” he muttered. “I knew the bastard would be back before long.”

Then he met the gaze of a stranger, arrogant and lazy and startlingly bright blue. Eyebrows flicking up, he blurted, “Who the fuck are you?”

Smirking, the stranger glanced at a smaller man next to him, one Carnelian had glimpsed down here once or twice before, always with the Jeweler. “I think I’d like to ask you the same question.”

The small man cleared his throat and began speaking, quietly enough that Carnelian couldn’t hear. Instead he took in the stranger, as if he couldn’t quite tear his eyes away.

The man was attractive, annoyingly attractive from Carnelian’s perspective. His skin was a bronzed tone, clear and smooth. He was tall, probably taller than Carnelian, with a lean, slightly muscled body. He had on a dark t-shirt that clung to his body and somehow looked expensive, with form-fitting jeans and some Converse high tops on as well. His dark brown hair was slightly wavy, with the top grown out long and falling into his face. Carnelian’s eyes drifted down towards his mouth before he forcefully pulled them back up to his eyes, which were-

Still on him. Carnelian felt himself blush and then scowl as he met the man’s gaze. Already he was getting on his nerves. And where the hell was the Jeweler? Was this stranger some new client of his, looking to buy one of them? At that thought, Carnelian felt a flash of panic through him and glanced over at Emerald, who was looking subtly at him as well, clearly thinking the same thing.

Carnelian tuned back in when the stranger exclaimed, “Are you shitting me right now?” The stranger was now looking at each of them, studying them more intently.

His gaze almost completely skimmed over Diamond and Ruby, both of them still curled up in their beds, watching with wary and confused gazes. He barely even noticed Amber, the new one still drugged to high heaven after mouthing off to the Jeweler yesterday. Carnelian doubted the kid could even remember their own name right now, much less stand up from where they were sprawled in their bed. He took a bit longer looking at Emerald, his defensive stance, wise eyes, then Amethyst, with her crossed arms and haughty expression, before finally settling on Carnelian.

After several long, tense seconds, he looked back at the other man. “So you’re saying,” he drawled slowly, deliberately. “That this, all of this, the house, the business, the.. Jewels-” his mouth twisted into a cruel smirk- “they’re all mine?”

Swallowing, the other man nodded. “Yes sir, that’s what I’m saying.” He drew out a piece of paper and, clearing his throat, began to read. “‘I hereby give the entirety of my properties, including my family home, my businesses, and my Jewelry Box, to my closest remaining blood relative upon my death.’ That would be you, Dustin Moore.”

There was a gasp from one of the other cells, where Diamond had stood up, flying to the window, eyes wide and frantic. “Death? Wait, no, Sir, he- he can’t be-” They dissolved into sobs, sliding to their knees on the floor.

Carnelian glanced around at the rest of the Jewels, the only sound coming from Diamond. The rest of them had frozen as well, not sure how they were meant to respond. Carnelian was reeling, glancing down as he took a shaky breath. On the one hand, he was glad the bastard was dead. On the other, well, the Jeweler had never looked at him the way the stranger, Dustin the other man had said, looked at him. The Jeweler looked at him like some prized object, something to be shown off proudly and then put back into storage. The Jeweler treated him less than human; Dustin’s gaze said he knew precisely how human Carnelian was, he just didn’t care.

Before he knew it, Carnelian was raising his head to glare at the other man, only to find him still looking at him. As Dustin slowly moved forward, he asked, “Did my uncle give these.. Jewels any names? Because I think I’m seeing a theme in them.” He stopped a couple feet away from the glass, his head tilted slightly. “The only one I can’t seem to figure out is this one.”

Carnelian’s lip curled. “Stay the fuck away from me,” he snarled softly, looking him up and down before raising his brows slightly. “Bastard jr,” he added.

Dustin almost seemed caught off guard before letting out a laugh. “I thought you said that he trained them to be all submissive and whatever,” he called over to the other. “Jameston, this one seems to be a bit feral.” He stepped even closer, lifting one hand to touch the glass. Carnelian fell back a couple inches, eyes still narrowed.

Jameston cleared his throat yet again. Carnelian would almost feel bad for the guy, if it wasn’t for the fact that he was complicit in letting him stay kidnapped. “Yes sir, your uncle had his ways of training them. However, he didn’t train them all the same way. He found that one’s fight to be..” He skimmed his notes quickly. “..rather appealing, sir.”

Carnelian made a noise of disgust as Dustin grinned. “I can’t say I blame him.”

Carnelian barely breathed until Dustin stepped away, turning back to Jameston. “Well, I’ve seen them all. Let’s go back upstairs now. I think I saw a nice liquor cabinet that I’d like to raid.”

Once they were both gone from view and the door had hissed shut, Carnelian leaned his head against the cool glass.

“You okay?” Emerald asked.

Carnelian just shook his head, a sudden lump in his throat. “The way he looked at me,” he said softly.

“I know,” Emerald murmured back.

He glanced up to find the older man looking at him with concern and pity.

“Well then,” Amethyst said loudly, breaking the silence that had fallen thick and heavy. “That was certainly something.”

Diamond sobbed loudly. “That.. that can’t be true. Can it?” They looked up, searching the others’ faces. Carnelian felt a twinge of pity for them. After over a decade of being trapped down here, they had been reduced to a mere shadow of whoever they might have once been. At whatever they might’ve seen on their faces, Diamond dissolved back into inconsolable sobs.

Resting her head on the wall, Ruby quietly asked, “So what happens now?”

There was a beat of silence before Emerald replied, “Now we wait.”

Back upstairs, Dustin was finally alone after getting rid of that annoying lawyer. He had had to practically shove the man out of the house to get him to leave. Even then, he had only left with promises to call later about the details.

For now, Dustin was sprawled out in a large, overstuffed armchair, a bottle of expensive whisky and a half empty glass next to him. He was already on his second glass, and he had no plans on stopping any time soon.

His mind drifted to the one who had glared and cursed at him. The smaller one, with the hard gaze, numerous freckles, and bright curly hair. The one Jameston had said was named Carnelian. Dustin looked up the stone and smiled at the pictures that were pulled up. Bright, fiery stones, of varying shades, Dustin had to admit, he could see the resemblance.

Pouring himself another glass, he sunk down further into the chair. He supposed he should be more concerned with the fact that there were six human beings locked in some creepy basement that he had apparently just inherited. But, after living the life that he had lived so far, Dustin had to admit that this was far from the craziest thing he had seen. He knew plenty of friends whose families had, well, less than legal people working for them, and now that he thought about it, he swore he could remember some show a few of his friends had gone to where the host had all his pets or whatever they were called designed as gemstones.

He laughed softly, quietly murmuring, “Carnelian, huh?” before draining the glass and pouring one more.

It was hours later when Carnelian awoke in the darkness. The bright lights, luckily, were still on their automated timer, so they had shut out at their usual time. It had been hours since Diamond’s sobs had slowly petered out and since the others’ quiet, stilted conversations had dwindled. Now, everyone was asleep.

Well, everyone except Carnelian. It took him a moment to figure out what had awoken him, a soft tapping on the glass wall of his cell. With a soft groan, he rolled over, out of the bed, squinting in the dim light.

In front of him stood the silhouette of a man. A couple seconds later, Carnelian recognized him as Dustin, his new.. owner. He almost snorted at the title. This man wasn’t any older than Carnelian, and he looked and behaved like an entitled, overprivileged frat boy.

Carnelian slowly walked closer. “What the hell do you want?” he whispered, because he didn’t want to accidentally wake the others and unleash the chaos that would bring with it. It took him a moment to realize that Dustin was fiddling with the lock on the door.

Without answering him, Dustin finally figured out how to unlatch it and swung the door open. He looked back up at Carnelian and made a silent motion for him to follow as he padded back towards the door.

Frowning, Carnelian carefully stepped out, towards him and the hallway beyond, where he could see light spilling out from the door. Knowing it probably wasn’t very smart, Carnelian walked into the hallway, squinting slightly at the suddenly bright lights.

Before he knew what was happening, there was a hand fisting in his hair and pushing him up against the wall. Carnelian looked up, eyes wide, to find Dustin standing much too close to him and several inches taller than him.

Feeling his breath stutter and his heart skip a beat, Carnelian breathed out, “What the hell do you want?” He barely dared take his eyes away from Dustin’s.

With the hand not pinning him to the wall, Dustin leaned closer and wrapped a curl around his finger, pulling until Carnelian wince slightly before letting it go, watching it bounce. This close, Carnelian could smell the whisky on his breath.

“Are.. are you drunk?” he asked, swallowing hard when that steely blue gaze met his, hazy yet surprisingly clear.

“That’s irrelevant,” he said, smirking as he pushed closer to Carnelian, who tried to pull away, but one vicious yank on his hair had his eyes watering and stilled the rest of his body. Dustin raised a hand and slowly traced over Carnelian’s cheeks, ending with one finger following the outline of his lips. “You’re Carnelian.”

Carnelian barely resisted the urge to squeeze his eyes shut and instead held his breath, eyes wide and searching Dustin’s. He didn’t dare to breathe, much less speak, so he didn’t ask why Dustin had said something he already knew the answer to.

It felt as if an eternity had passed before Dustin pulled away, shoving Carnelian roughly back towards the door. “I’ll see you in the morning,” he said glibly, pulling the door shut once Carnelian was through, leaving him back in the darkness.

Immediately, Carnelian went back to the one place he never thought he’d call safe. Once he had pulled the glass door closed, hearing the lock click, he curled up in his bed, as far away from the door as he could get, the thin blanket pulled over him as his heart beat in his throat.

He didn’t sleep a wink for the rest of the night.

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aceofspadegrass · 3 years

Text

Hair Day

Characters: Niragi Suguru, Chishiya Shuntaro, Hatter, Last Boss

Genre: Crack. Niragi stole Chishiya's hair.

1.7k words

I did it. I have made a fic based on the cursed Niragi pic. It's.... very chaotic, @niragis-right-hand-rabbit.

Do I know how hair works? Barely, but hey, it's gotta work somehow.

Also look, I did it. Yes I had to slap normal bean on top of cat bean but I tried. A real shame the strand is on the wrong side though I forgot to edit it out and it's too late for me to put it on the correct side.

Oh yeah, and there's a little hint of sleep drugging. Just a tad.

Niragi stares at the empty container with pure disdain in his eyes, hair loose after a couple of days without his beloved hair gel. Sure, it’s left his hair decently soft enough and nobody has really noticed the distinct lack of shine when he pulls his hair up every morning, but he missed the smell and feel.

He runs his hand through his hair, still a little knotted after he slept, but nothing a brush couldn’t handle. Niragi squints at himself in the mirror, his hair falling in front of his face and framing it in a way that reminded Niragi of a certain someone. He tries to tuck one side out of the way, but it falls back inevitably like a stubborn thorn in his cheek. Pausing, Niragi stares at himself in the mirror, thinking to himself as he leaned closer before he got a rather ridiculous idea.

Standing up proud and straight, he ties it back as he always did, making sure to brush extra well so no hairs would fall out of his bun, even sliding a few pins in the back to properly secure it. With a pleased grin, he leaves the bathroom and grabs his rifle from where he left it on the bed, positioning it over his shoulder and heading out for the day for a quick patrol.

The hallways themselves were fairly empty, with the only real instances of noises being from within a few rooms, but Niragi didn’t bother to check inside every single one. He makes it down to the stairs and heads down with a whistle, flashing a smirk at a pair of women who were chatting in the stairwell. The girls stepped out of his way as he made his way down, their conversation halting until Niragi was at the bottom, their whispers rampant and echoing from above.

Niragi walks around until he makes it to the cafeteria, people already grabbing and eating breakfast. He doesn’t bother with sitting by any of the residing militants however today, his mind on something else. He instead grabs a bottle of strawberry milk from the fridge and some rice balls that one of the current kitchen workers handed him before rushing out with a sort of excited fire in his eyes.

Niragi slips into the medical bay whilst cramming a rice ball into his mouth, ignoring the nurse on duty as he goes towards the medicine cabinet. Sliding it open, he pushes aside bottles until he finds what he was looking for, shoving it into his pocket and running out, nearly knocking over the same nurse without so much as an apology.

Niragi shoves yet another rice ball into his mouth as he walked back to his room, pill bottle and milk in one hand and rice balls in the other. He sets the bottles down on the nightstand and takes a brief break to finish breakfast before starting on his silly little switcheroo mission.

Niragi quietly hums to himself as he makes his way to Chishiya’s room, hoping the man was still in there. If he wasn’t, Niragi would just hunt him down anyways and drag him back in here whether the fried egg wanted to or not. Opening the door, he peeks inside.

Bingo.

Chishiya was sitting at his desk, with the only sounds being the scratching of pencil on paper. Niragi slips inside and shuts the door, coming over to the desk and setting the perfectly innocuous bottle of milk on the corner of Chishiya’s desk. The man barely even acknowledges him, Niragi staring at Chishiya in silence. One glance to the paper only showed Chishiya drawing a bunch of squares in a distorted array, with exactly one circle inside in red pen. “ What the fuck is that.”

“ Why are you in my room.”

“ Why do you care, hm?”

Chishiya slowly turns his head and shoulders to look up at Niragi blankly, and Niragi really wanted to just say fuck it with the drink and choke the little bitch until he was unconscious by his own hands.

“ ….. Do you need something?”

“ Yeah. Drink this.” Niragi taps the cap to the milk, Chishiya not even taking a single glance.

“ And if I don’t?” Chishiya blinks, cracking a lazy smirk. Niragi leans down and turns Chishiya’s whole body around until their noses and legs were nearly touching, Niragi licking the top of his lip as he grins.

“ Then I’m gonna make you drink it by force. So how about you use your brain and figure it out.” Niragi responds, Chishiya staring directly into his eyes without so much as a flinch. Chishiya clicks his tongue and flicks Niragi’s forehead, Niragi recoiling as Chishiya takes the bottle and inspects it, letting a small puff of air through his nose.

“ Strawberry, how quaint.” Chishiya twists the cap, the safety lock cracking without an issue. Chishiya looks back up at Niragi, who was watching him now with a blank expression, and toasts to nothing before turning back around in his chair and taking slow ample sips. Niragi backs away and heads into Chishiya’s connected bathroom, digging through his cabinets as he hears a soft thunk noise from the main room. Niragi preens internally with his plan working as he pulls a box out from the cabinet and sets them on the sink bench, along with a second box that he was hiding behind his back. Sure, it was now warm because of Niragi, but he didn’t think it would affect anything.

The local blackberry heads out and comes over to the table, Chishiya slumped over the desk unconscious. Never the wiser really, Niragi hoisting him out from the chair with not too much trouble as he drags him into the bathroom. Niragi leaves him in the bathtub and stares at his prone form for three whole seconds maximum before going back to rummage through Chishiya’s bathroom cabinets.

He finds a sizable plastic bag rolled up under the sink, as well as scissors and gloves, Niragi pleased that Chishiya kept them in reach so he didn’t have to go anywhere else.

Turning to the unconscious cat, Niragi’s grin grows wider as he approached with the bag.

The man dutifully makes sure to leave the surfaces decently cleaned despite no real reason to do so, his hair covered in aluminum foils and plastic wrap. Chishiya remained completely and utterly unconscious in the bathroom, a plain plastic bag tied over his hair as the dye set in.

Niragi didn’t feel like staying around, itching to go take his shower and tone his hair as soon as he could. He slips out of the room without a sound and makes his way down the hall to his own room, not caring who saw him. The path was thankfully empty the entire way, Niragi ducking in and heading to the showers.

By the time he got out, put toner, waited got back in to finish, and got back out again, Niragi could tell Chishiya was probably going to find him sometimes soon. He’d be ready of course, Niragi quietly humming as he checked his hair in the mirror before leaving.

He passes by a few of the other militants, who stare at him in confusion. Niragi glances over at them and sticks his tongue out with a proud smile, striding past them before they could even get a word in, back on his mission to Chishiya’s room.

That is, until Last Boss approached him from buttfuck nowhere and dragged his now blond ass to the meeting room.

“ Hey what’s the rush?!”

Last Boss doesn’t bother with a response as he pushes the doors open, Hatter standing there as Chishiya slowly turns to Niragi with eyes of murder. Hatter, who apparently was dragged into this at some point, claps his hands together. “ Oh, I see now! Well then, if I may be so inclined to ask: What in the bright fuck is this.”

Niragi just runs his fingers through his hair, which he managed to style somewhat close to Chishiya’s normal hairstyle. “ I stole Chishiya’s hair because I ran out of hair gel.”

Hatter slowly nods, and Chishiya continued to stare directly at Niragi. Last Boss had dipped out completely the moment he completed his mission. Hatter turns to Chishiya, and brushes a finger through the shortcake’s newly blackened hair. “ And this?”

“ I stole Chishiya’s hair.” Niragi repeats. It wasn’t that hard to understand, really.

“…. I see. Well then, it certainly is something! If you had just told me I may have been willing to help, but the job here is rather phenomenal.” Hatter muses, then looks back to Niragi. “ Do you have a tie?”

Chishiya was already trying to move away when he knew something was up, but Niragi and Hatter were faster as Niragi tosses him a hairband, Hatter grabbing Chishiya’s shoulders and forcing him still, his other hand reaching up and brushing Chishiya’s hair back. Chishiya continues to look directly at a now grinning Niragi as Hatter tied Chishiya’s upper hair into a bun, and then patting said bun once he finished.

“ There you go you! You look…. better, in a way!” Hatter chirps

“ So! Chishiya, what where you doing with him, huh? Were you trying to complain to the manager?”

“ Don’t word it like that. And no, I was merely talking to him when he mentioned my apparently sudden hair change. So, Niragi, how did you do it.”

Niragi slowly rolls his head to the other side, repositioning his weight onto the other leg. “ Do… what.”

“ You slipped something into that milk, didn’t you.”

Niragi scoffs, rolling his eyes. “ Course I did.”

“ Yet the bottle was unopened.”

“ I’m not stupid, stupid. I have thoughts. I can problem solve.”

“ Sometimes.”

“ Oi, you take that back!”

Hatter chuckles, and puts a hand on Chishiya’s shoulder, pushing him forward until he reaches Niragi. Putting a hand on his shoulder as well, he pushes the both of them out of the meeting room. “ Ladies, ladies, no fighting~ If you need to, take it outside, maybe have a good martini or whatever. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to mentally process this look. Okay byyyyye!” Hatter shuts the door on the both of them, Niragi and Chishiya continuing to stare at each other.

“ You give me my hair back or else.” Chishiya whispers.

“ Or else…. what.” Niragi leans forwards, smirking. Chishiya just smirks back, eyes narrowing. “ You’ll see.”

#aib #alice in borderland #aib fanfic #alice in borderland fanfic #niragi suguru #chishiya shuntaro #hatter #takeru danma #last boss #takatora samura #ah yes fresh chaos #niragi really took one look in the mirror and decide to steal a man's hairstyle good golly #in case anyone is wondering niragi inserted sleeping drug through a syringe and poked a tiny hole into the milk #last boss just so happened to oversee chishiya talking to hatter and thought niragi would want to see it #niragi really went all out #i like watching them bully each other using absolutely trivial methods it's hilarious #i like to think niragi has practice dying hair for reasons unknown #i don't know what chishiya was drawing either

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inevitably-johnlocked · 3 years

Note

Hi Steph!! I was wondering if you knew of any really long fics (like 25k or more) that are only one chapter, I travel a lot sometimes and some places don't really have good enough internet for multi chapter fics. So yeah, any really long one chapter fics about John and Sherlock would be appreciated. Thank you!

Hey Nonny!!

LOL OKAY FUNNY STORY. I almost replied to this with “oof I’ll have to read EVERYTHING so I’m sorry.... and then... I remembered.......

I put chapter counts on everything 🙃😐

I’m not the brightest crayon in the box. 🖍

Anyway, so yes, I can definitely rec you some fics! BUT I should also offer you two suggestions you can totally do to read ANY fic!

On Ao3, you can click on the “Entire Work” button to load ALL chapters of a fic (it’s the very first button along the top) and in turn you can then just read it all there!

And the very last button along the top, you can Download copies of the fic to your phone or computer with eBook file types (AZw3 for Kindle, ePub for iPhone’s Books app, and MOBI is for other mobile devices and e-readers), the HTML if you want to read it as-is in a web-browser, or the PDF format which is a universal file format that is supported by everything, even web browsers, so it’s a good one to download if you don’t know what format you need :) If you read on an eReader, though, I can’t recommend enough just downloading the format for your device. You get to keep a copy of the fic AND the eReader keeps it nicely formatted. It’s a BRILLIANT, BEAUTIFUL feature that Ao3 gave us, because I like downloading all my fics and read them later in iBooks. Once you start that, Nonny, you can’t do it any other way. AND at the VERY END of the fics, it links BACK to the original post so you can bookmark, kudos, and comment on it!! <3

So yeah, two options you can do to solve your poopy internet and still read long fics hee hee! <3

ANYWAY EXCUSE FOR A NEW LIST LOL.

ALSO, side note, check out @silentauroriamthereal; a large chunk of her fics are both long AND one chapter, so it’s a good place to go and she’s a brilliant author so I don’t think you’ll be disappointed! <3 Plus a lot of her fics are on this list, so I am sorry hahah.

AND I wanted to make the list a bit longer than I had, so I picked fics over 20K, if that’s alright :) As always, if you wrote a 20k+ single chapter fic, let us know!

SINGLE CHAPTER FICS OVER 20K WORDS

A Life Well-Lived by Kate_Lear (E, 20,121 w., 1 Ch. || Original Male Character, Sherlock Woos John, Jealous Sherlock, Reluctant Bi-John, Past Abuse, Insecure John, Reassuring / Caring Sherlock, Protective Sherlock, Understanding Sherlock) – John got scared off men by an abusive past relationship. Sherlock has to try and woo him while not scaring him off with protective possessive rage.

The White Lotuses by SilentAuror (E, 20,340 w., 1 Ch. || Slow Burn, Domestic, Romance) – One day John realises that he just isn't where he belongs, which is back at Baker Street with Sherlock. So he goes back and Sherlock, in his own way, courts him. Romance.

Out of the Woods by SilentAuror (E, 20,471 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Romance, Slow Burn, Flirting, Drunk Sex, Practical Jokes, POV Sherlock, Bottomlock, Possessive John, Pining Sherlock, Frustrated Wanking, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, First Kiss/Time, Virgin Sherlock, Love Confessions, Soft Sherlock, Dancing, Bum Appreciation, Hanging out with the Yard) – Sherlock is fairly certain that John has taken to flirting with him of late, but can't be entirely certain of it. At least, not until a case takes them into a forest, along with Lestrade's team and something happens that will change everything about their lives...

You're On the Air by prettysailorsoldier (M, 20,616 w., 1 Ch. || Unilock, Matchmaking, Radio, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Sherlock POV, Pining Sherlock, Flirting, Bisexual John) – The Consulting Detective and The Woman dominate the airwaves of their university radio station, doling out advice on everything from meeting the parents to sexual positions. When their ratings start to dip before the holidays, however, manager Mike thinks it's time for some fresh blood, and who better to fill in the gaps than rugby captain--and notorious flirt--John Watson? Part 1 of 25 Days of Johnlock

whiskies neat by Ellipsical (E, 20,660 w., 15 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting, POV Second Person Sherlock, Slow Burn, One Night Stand, Rimming, Blow Jobs, Anal, Soldier John, Crying, Emotional Lovemaking, Switchlock) – Home and hearth and whiskies neat, or, alternatively, Sherlock Holmes falls in love.

Achieving the Together-Coloured Instant by teahigh (E, 20,776 w., 1 Ch. || Est. Rel, PTSD, Codependency, Fluff & Angst, H/C, Smut, Demisexual Sherlock, Experiments) – John wonders if this is how it’s going to be: A life speaking in code, because they’re both too stupid to figure out how to say, “I love you.”

Winter's Delights by Kate_Lear (E, 21,173 w., 1 Ch. || Holmes Family, Christmas, Fake Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Bed Sharing, Domestics) – Sherlock takes John home for Christmas to meet the extended Holmes family. Part 1 of Winter's Delights

Love Is by SilentAuror (E, 21,508 w., 1 Ch. || Angst, UST / URT, Post HLV, Romance) – At Mrs Hudson’s urging, Sherlock finally decides to tell John how he feels about him. Part 1 of Love Is

echoes through time by chellefic (E, 21,619 w., 1 Ch. || First Time, Romance, ACD & BBC, Epistolary) – Mummy sends a trunk from the Holmes cottage in Sussex to 221B. Its contents alter the way John and Sherlock see themselves and one another.

Ghost Stories by SwissMiss (M, 22,256 w., 1 Ch. || Pining, Holmes Family, Christmas, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Bed Sharing, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, First Time) – Sherlock's parents think he and John are a couple. They might be onto something.

Sonatina in G Minor by SilentAuror (E, 22,574 w., 1 Ch. || Case Fic, POV Sherlock, Angst, UST, Sherlock’s Violin, Post-S3, Romance) – John has come back to Baker Street, but Sherlock doesn't understand the strange tension between them, even after he begins teaching John to play the violin at John's request.

The Kepler Problem by kinklock (E, 24,270 w., 1 Ch. || Sci-Fi AU, Alien Sherlock, Space Repairman John, Alien Biology, Horny John) – Working in uncharted space exploration was not as exciting as John had hoped, especially when it turned out to be mostly bot maintenance on uninhabited planets. However, the mystery of the repeated, unexplained malfunctions on planet BAK 2212 might turn out to be exactly the kind of adventure he'd been craving.

26 Pieces by Lanning (E, 28,236 w., 1 Ch. || H/C, Torture, First Time, Happy Ending, Schmoop, Past Abuse) – Mycroft gives Sherlock the apparently simple task of solving a puzzle box containing a stolen microchip. It isn't simple.

The Wisteria Tree by SilentAuror (E, 29,773 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S3, Emotional Love Making, Amnesia/Memory Loss, Sherlock Loves John So Much, Sherlock POV, Romance, Angst with Happy Ending, First Times, Hurt/Comfort, Est. Rel., Retirement) – Sherlock wakes up from a month-long coma only to discover that he has no memory of the previous six years to his own shock as well as John's...

Shallow Grave by SilentAuror (E, 31,672 w., 1 Ch. || Romance, Angst, HLV Fix It, Infidelity, Pining Sherlock, First Person POV Sherlock) – Starts as Sherlock's plane is taking off at the end of His Last Vow. When he finds out that Moriarty is alive and that he's being recalled from his mission, Sherlock decides that he should have told John how he felt before he left. So he walks off the plane and kisses him.

The Midas Touch by flawedamythyst (E, 32,231 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Magical Realism || John has a Magical Cock, Dub Con, Healer John) – John Watson has a medical condition that means everyone he sleeps with is instantly healed of all illness and injury. This causes complications when Sherlock breaks his arm, and even more complications when Sherlock falls in love with him. Yes, this is a story where John has a literal magic healing cock. It's a lot less cracky than you're probably imagining. Warning: Contains complex issues of sexual consent, although not between Sherlock and John.

The Whore of Babylon Was a Perfectly Nice Girl by out_there (E, 32,897 w., 1 Ch. || Past Drug Use, Blowjobs, Toplock, Mentions of Switching, Rough Sex, Background Cases, Sherlock’s Past, Sherlock’s Sexual History, Experienced Sherlock, Past One Night Stands, Fingering, Cuddling, Possessive Sherlock, Paris Holiday, Bed Sharing, Naked Lie-Ins, Bathing Together, Confessions, Worried Sherlock, Laying in Bed All Day, Meddling Mycroft, Naked Lazy Day) – Sherlock walks into a room and takes all the space right out of it. He does the same inside John's head.

Our Enthusiasms Which Cannot Always Be Explained by withoutawish (M, 32,961 w., 1 Ch. || Christmas, Fluff and Angst, H/C, Post-TRF, Case Fic, Mild Gore, Sherlock Whump) – The list that is tacked haphazardly on the refrigerator of 221B reads, ‘Kidney(s), and/or a full cadaver (preferably male, late 30s, under six feet tall), bag of fresh toes, sixteen cow’s eyes (corneas retained), dual exhaust hand –held flame thrower, an unopened first edition copy of Joseph Conrad’s 'Heart of Darkness', and no less than ten abhorrently gruesome murders in the upcoming month.” The one neatly hanging next to it simply reads, “Sex.” One of these lists is not John Watson’s. If John Watson were to put what he really wanted in list form, to live in a land somewhere beyond ‘almosts' now that Sherlock Holmes has indeed returned to him, he would never be able to look his flatmate in the eye ever again.

Bedtime Stories by Liketheriver (M, 34,388 w., 1 Ch. || Emotional H/C, Romance, Angst & Humour, Bed Sharing, John First Person, TRF, John Whump) – John's POV during Season 2 and beyond when Sherlock takes up semi-permanent residence in his bed. A collection of codas and missing scenes wrapped up into one long fic and topped with a bow that takes the story beyond Reichenbach and into happy territory once more. Part 1 of Bedtime Universe

The Yellow Poppies by SilentAuror (E, 34,952 w., 1 Ch. || H/C, Nightmares, HLV Fix-It, PTSD, Trauma, POV Sherlock, Doctor John) – Sherlock is threatened and assaulted in the hospital immediately after having been shot in the heart, first by Mary, then by Magnussen. As he recovers at Baker Street with John and plans the attack on Appledore with Mycroft, he fights to work through the trauma caused by these two visits. Set during His Last Vow.

The Unfinished Letters by SilentAuror (E, 37,391 w., 1 Ch. || Post S3 / S3 / HLV Fix it, Angst with Happy Ending, Romance, Infidelity, Depression, Case Fic, POV Third Person Sherlock, Love Confessions, Pining Sherlock, Letters) – A fire at Baker Street leads John to read something he was never intended to see: a notebook of half-written, unfinished letters Sherlock wrote during his time away...

Set in Stone by SilentAuror (E, 39,309 w., 1 Ch. || Romance, Wedding, Therapy, Fluff and Angst) – Sherlock and John are back from Ravine Valley and planning their wedding. However, as they move past the trial of the human traffickers, Sherlock can't help but wonder if he's imagining that John is becoming a little distant. Surely he isn't getting cold feet about the wedding... Part 2 of The Ravine Valley series

Act IV by SilentAuror (E, 39,707 w., 1 Ch. || First Person POV Sherlock, HLV Fix-It, Infidelity, Angst, Drama) – After Sherlock is shot, John moves back into Baker Street. They spend the autumn together as John tries to make sense of his life and make some important decisions about both Mary and Sherlock. Canon-compliant, excerpts from His Last Vow.

The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse by SilentAuror (E, 50,635 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S4/S4 Divergence, Case Fic, For a Case / Reverse Fake-Relationship, Conferences, Marriage Equality, Travelling / New York, Pride, Homophobia, Bottomlock, Marriage Proposal, John POV, Sexuality, Love Confessions, Emotional Love Making, Public Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Passionate Kissing, Needy/Clingy Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Touching / Hand Holding, Bed Sharing, Little Spoon Sherlock, Intense Orgasms) – John and Sherlock go to New York to attend a conference run by the National Defence of Traditional Marriage Coalition in order to investigate the potential bombing of the annual Manhattan Pride parade. As the conference unfolds, John finds himself repulsed by the toxic ideology being presented, which becomes relevent to his own unacknowledged issues and his friendship with Sherlock...

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #my fic recs #long fics #single chapter fics #Anonymous

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remmushound · 3 years

Text

Beyond the Bay Chapter 20: Family friend

Summary: Leonardo calls a family friend in to help assess Mikey

Tags: @brightlotusmoon @selfindulgenz @digitl-art-monstr @ilo-artistry @dakotafinely

Content warning: mild swearing

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Leo’s knock and voice snapped Leonardo out of his daze. The teen blinked first, and then shook his head to rattle his thoughts back into place.

“I hope you don’t mind my intrusion.” Leo said, coming further into Leonardo’s room.

“Not at all.” Leonardo lied, because he did mind the intrusion in his personal space but he wasn’t going to say that! Besides, this face was exactly the one he had been planning to seek out. “But I’ll have you know my thoughts cost no less than a dollar a piece, I know my worth.”

Leo sat on the bed and it gave a loud groan under the strain of his weight; the leader snorted a forced laugh through his nose and shook his head.

“I think I’ll have to pass, thanks.”

“He’s fine.” Said Leonardo.

Leo blinked, cocking his head. “Pardon?”

“You came here to ask about your father, right?” Leonardo asked. “He’s fine, stable and resting. We’ll know more when he wakes.”

“Is it advisable to leave him alone?”

“Your Raph’s sitting in with him. Figured he'd appreciate seeing a familiar face when he wakes up and not this.” Leonardo motioned to his face. “As beautifully handsome as it is, it’s not his son.”

“Right.” Leo nodded. The box turtle had picked up on Leonardo’s lie of not minding his presence and was quick to try and justify himself. “Well, I just noticed you in here alone looking like you just kicked a puppy, so I figured I’d check on you. I— I can go.”

“No.” Leonardo grabbed Leo’s hand to stop any escape. “Don’t go. I was actually wanting to talk with you.”

Leo sat back down. “You have my full attention.”

“With all this stuff going on, your dad and… and that dino dude and… and Mikey…and I mean, there’s only so much me and Donnie can do. We— we’re not trained physicians by any means and we don’t have all the medicines and equipment that one might need to treat him—“

“What are you saying?” Leo prompted Leonardo to just get to the point.

“I was just considering that it could be beneficial to start looking into more… mystic solutions.”

“Mystic— like, like those Yokai in the Hidden City— like, Draxum?”

“I take dad to them all the time! And I know mutants and yokai are like, waaay different, but there are a few younger doctors who are learning experimental procedures to specialize in mutant care!”

“Key word being experimental?” Leonardo’s words left a bad taste on Leo’s tongue.

“Everything’s experimental before its effective— mutants haven’t even been around a decade yet. The work they do is surprisingly advanced for such a short period!” Leonardo argued

“You’re suggesting using Mikey as an experiment?” Every sense of protective nature surged through Leo in that moment, eyes of ice boring into Leonardo’s sapphire and ruby one.

“No, I’m suggesting we take him to someone better equipped to handle him. Someone more… familiar with seizures. Donnie and I are just making stuff up as we go along, and that’s not what's best for Mikey…”

“If you’re not qualified to help him, how could you possibly be qualified to state any opinion on the matter?” Leo crossed his arms, “You’re your team's medic! You're supposed to heal, so heal him!”

Leonardo only smiled his dumb smile and rested his head on his hand. “You’re not very bright, are you?”

“What?” Came Leo’s bitter response.

“I am a medic, and in my humble medical opinion, he needs someone better than me! Two seizures in two days can’t be good, not for a person and not for a mutant. Just think for a second what would be best for your brother.”

“Are you accusing me of not thinking about that?” Leo let his perfect white teeth show a sharp threat. “Mikey is fine where he is!”

Leonardo’s eyes turned cool, like a layer of soft mist had laid over them and softened his voice several degrees until it came out like a gentle winter sound. “Are you willing to risk Mikey’s life for it?”

Leo felt his blood run cold, the collected chi inside him shattering and dissipating to the farthest reaches of his form. His throat was too dry, even to swallow, and he could hear his blood rushing in his ears. Leonardo knew in that moment he was victorious, for he leaned forward and entwined his fingers together, his smug smile not near as perfect as Leo’s, but just as confident.

“Fine.” Leo’s bitter relent came, “Call a specialist.”

“I got one on speed dial.”

Leo deadpanned. “Is it Baron Draxum?”

“N-no!” Leonardo lied, then immediately said, “It’s Baron Draxum.”

***

“Hm.” Baron Draxum mused as he looked over Mikey. The entire Clan was gathered in the infirmary, apparently too close for the faun’s liking because in the next breath he said, “Could I please get some peace and quiet?”

“We’re… not talking.” Raph pointed out, and nobody moved.

“I meant that as a polite way of asking you all to leave me alone.” Draxum said slow and sharp, like he was talking to a dense wall.

“Like hell we’re leaving you alone with him!” Leo snarled, and there was a determined chorus of agreement from his brothers.

“Why, do you not trust me?”

Draxum turned his full attention to the rest of the Splinterson family, his lips pulling back in a sneer. He started to walk ever so slowly around the beds of the infirmary, dragging hooved hands across the beds holding Mikey, who was disgruntled at being forced into another exam, and Splinter who still sleeping off his trauma. Draxum’s hands traced over Mikey’s arms and Mikey winced and pulled away as if the fingers were knives. As Draxum circled around to do the same to Splinter, who in his unconscious state couldn’t retreat, Raph stepped forward with both hands on his sai, ready to gouge and destroy.

“Draxum, cut it out!” Michelangelo scolded, hand on his hip and cheeks puffed out like a middle aged grandmother scolding her grown child.

Draxum rolled his eyes, but gave into grandmother Michelangelo’s demands and stopped his slow taunting walk. Raph returned his sai to their holsters, but kept forest eyes fixed on the yokai menace.

“I still say some privacy would be preferable for my assessment. I don’t do well in a crowd.”

“Why did it have to be him, again?” Leo asked in a sharp and bitter voice as he motioned to the faun who couldn’t appear more bored if he tried.

“Draxum’s a family friend— we trust him!” Raphael tried to reassure everyone, including himself.

“But I don’t.” Leo said simply. “Not around my brother alone…”

“Leo, I’m fine!” Mikey complained, “Honestly, you’re all making a big deal out of nothing!”

“A seizure isn’t ‘nothing’ Mikey.” Donnie sighed and shook his head.

“And nothing is exactly what I can do if you keep crowding me.” Draxum’s vine snared around Donnie’s belt to pull him away from Mikey’s bedside, much to the ire of the box turtle.

“How about this?” Leonardo interrupted before another argument could break out, “Leo, why don’t you stay here with Mikey while we take Donnie and Raph on tonight’s patrol? We missed last night’s, we can’t miss another.”

“Yeah!” Raphael immediately agreed, but louder, stealing the show and the attention from his younger brother. “That’s a great idea, Leo. We should get ready to do that now, actually.”

“Raph, Donnie.” Leo said, nodding to them as he addressed them. “You heard the snapper. Suit up.”

Donnie was quick to rise and obey, eyes on Mikey until the very last second when he left the room. Raph didn't move from Mikey’s side.

“Raph.” Leo said again, this time louder.

“I’m not leaving him.” Raph’s voice was low. He tightened his grip.

“I wasn’t asking.” Came Leo’s sharp retort. “Raphael asked you to go on patrol with him, and I told you to suit up.”

“It’s okay Raphie!” Mikey said, and he knew he could get away with it; Raph wouldn’t rebuke him when he was in a med bed after all! “Go knock some heads in and chill. I’ll be fine!”

Raph shook his head and clicked his tongue but his eyes held nothing but playful mischief. “You know I hate that nickname.”

“Duh!” Mikey slung a lazy arm around Raph to hug him one last time before giving him a push to start him on leaving the room.

When the entire group was finally ready to depart some five minutes later, it was Raphael who put a delay on their plans. It seemed the minute they were about to leave, he had a million and one things he needed to say.

“April’s here to help you if you have any questions.” Raphael said, practically doting over Leo like he was one of his younger siblings.

“Understood.” Was Leo’s simple response.

“And— and there’s some pizza you can make if you get hungry— if dad complains about being hungry, you can make him a snack but no big meals until breakfast. Leo likes to keep close eyes on his calories. Dad really likes the sweet stuff, so make sure it’s sugary.”

“Will do.” Leo nodded.

“But if you do get him a snack, make sure you mark down how much he eats so we can adjust his intake, otherwise we’ll be all thrown out of wack.”

“Alright.” Leo couldn’t help but smile at Raphael’s anxious rantings.

“Oh, and he— he goes to bed at twelve, could you just make double sure that his door alarm is set?”

“Raph.” Leonardo grabbed Raphael by the arm.

“It gives a little ring whenever it’s opened so he can’t wander off…”

“Raph.” Leonardo’s patience was weining.

“And make sure you get him up at four for a bathroom break or else he’ll have an accident. And sometimes he has trouble sleeping—“

“RAPH.” Leonardo reached up and grabbed Raphael by the cheeks, dragging the snappers head down to his level. “They’ll be fine. Draxum and April are here with them.”

“I know…” Raphael said and his words came out a low whisper. Still he didn't move.

“Come on.” Leonardo said and he didn't give Raphael a choice in the matter. He yanked and yanked on Raphael until the turtle relented and followed after him, and when Raphael tried to look back and add one last thing, Leonardo only tugged harder. “We’ll be back before sunrise.”

Leo only nodded and waved as the two mutants disappeared after the rest of the patrol, and for a long moment Leo couldn’t help but think that it was Leonardo doing the leading...

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sapphicmsmarvel · 4 years

Text

EP: Siren Queen

masterlist

Premise: Y/N L/N is a part of the world's biggest girl group. A stalker starts harassing her and her band mates so their label calls in the BAU.

The case was weird for the BAU. It was a stalker case for a famous girl, Y/N L/N, she was part of the worlds most successful girl group. Garcia was all too excited to be involved in the case. Of course, she hated that you were being stalked but she was a huge fan.

“You better tell me everything!” She squealed, “If she’s nice, if she’s as hot as she is on camera, if the other girls are nice, if they are ‘just like us’ please!”

“If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were the stalker, Garcia.” JJ joked.

“If someone hurts that ray of sunshine I will stalk them!” She shouted through the video call and then hung up.

JJ flipped through the file, “we have five days to catch this guy before they go on tour. And the girls are refusing to cancel.” “Even if their lives are at stake?”

“They said that they will not cancel because it’s the opening to their world tour and they won’t risk disappointing fans because they know people are flying in from all over the country.” Prentiss explained.

“Shouldn’t the label put the girls first?” Morgan asked.

“Usually labels tend not to care about artists.” Reid said, “the amount of label abuse that’s been coming to light is horrific you guys should read up on it.”

He looked up as everyone looked at him confused, he explained, “Simon Cowell for example, there are claims against him because of abuse towards clients. Overworking them, homophobic comments, racist comments, sexist comments you name it.”

“What groups?” JJ asked.

“Little Mix and One Direction are the two most prominent ones.” Reid said flicking through the file.

“How do you know all this?” “Garcia.” He answered. “Then I did my own research because I was fascinated by the music industry. It never hurts to learn even if I don’t know anything about it.”

The team left it at that, and continued digging through the evidence of your stalker.

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

The team was currently sitting in one of the rehearsal rooms. There were couches, a snack bar, a coffee stand, everything except the girls they were meeting.

Their publicist Ramona looked at them all apologetically, “I’m so sorry, the girls seem to be in traffic. They’re with trusted drivers and security guards.”

“Have they been background checked?” Hotch asked.

Ramona nodded, “we all were when we were taken on, we were when this stalker showed up as well. The dancers, the crew, everybody those girls come into contact with are background checked.”

“Even interviewers?” Reid asked. Ramona nodded, “without their knowledge, just like you advised. If this got leaked…” Ramona shook her head, “we all know what happens to victims of stalkers, it isn’t foreign in this business.”

At that moment the girls all came in, Emily recognized them from the files. Apparently, even your bandmates got checked. Zoey came in first, snuggled in her hoodie, her jeans were rumpled and her heels were clacking. Her smile falling off her face the second she walked into the room. Her blonde hair was tousled as if she was running her hands through it a lot. Her green eyes were tired.

Leaning on her was Brooke, who was also looking exhausted. Ramona told them that they had been up since 4 am doing press, it was now 4pm. They had a two hour rehearsal next, then dinner, then vocal rehearsal, then they could go to their hotel. Apparently it was an easy day for them. Brooke's black hair was in it’s natural curls, she wore heels as well as a dress.

The two were holding hands.

Then came in Liz, she was wearing a black long sleeve shirt, shorts and a beanie as well as heeled boots. She didn’t look as tired, she looked fiercely protective as she was holding your hand.

You looked anxious, you were also in a hoodie, jeans and heeled boots, all black. Your eyes were darting around the room as you took in everyone around you. Your eyes startled when they landed on Emily, Emily wasn’t sure why.

Ramona introduced all of them to the girls then said “Sit down girls.”

Three of them did, you had other ideas and went and got coffee. “Y/N, that’s your fourth cup.”

You held up a finger, “I don’t want to hear it, Ramona. I have a stalker out there and I have to act like everythings normal, if Marcus has a problem with it, he can suck my dick.”

Morgan looked at Emily with wide eyes. Emily shrugged. Then looked at Reid, “who’s Marcus?” She asked him.

“Their choreographer.” “Why does it matter what he says?”

“Because he cares about us and is a fitness nut.” You answered, “you’re not very good at whispering.” You deadpanned, sipping your coffee.

“Y/N!” Ramona scolded.

You rolled your eyes, and Zoey spoke up, “give her a break Ramona. She never gives you issues, let her live.”

“It’s okay,” Emily spoke up, “I understand what it’s like to be afraid of looking over your shoulder.”

You nodded, avoiding eye contact. You felt guilty for snapping, that much she could tell.

“Okay, let’s get started.” Hotch said, “do you have any particular fans you’d like to tell us about, people have stood out?”

“We have a lot of...dedicated fans.” Zoey said, to put it gently. “Some good, some bad, some that are really intense.”

You scoffed from where you were standing, “that's putting it lightly.” You grabbed a mini chocolate chip cookie..

“Do girl groups have groupies?” Morgan asked.

“Of course we do,” Liz said, her tan cheeks gaining a rosy color. You sat in between her and Zoey, Brooke was next to Zoey. You had three other cookies in your hand and handed them to the others.

“We recognize the line between fans and stalkers as well as people who don't agree with who we are. But there’s been nothing like this.” Brooke shuddered.

“Don’t agree with who you are?” JJ asked.

You held up a hand, “queer.”

Brooke raised her hand, “black.”

Liz raised hers, “philipino and black. So mixed race.”

Then Zoey raised hers as well, “I’m ‘too skinny’ so everyone thinks I have an eating disorder.”

You piped up, “I’ve also been fat shamed by the worlds biggest media outlets, it’s nothing new to find hate online.”

Emily grimaced and she knew her team was doing the exact same thing.

“Do you have any ideas as to who it could be?” Rossi asked.

“There’s one,” Zoey said, “but Y/N insists it can’t be him.”

“You need to tell us.” Emily said, everyone looked at you.

You sighed, “he went to jail when we were teens for sexual misconduct. I was the first person he assaulted and harassed consistently. But I didn’t press charges.” “Why not?” Morgan asked.

“Because I was a fourteen year old girl who didn’t recognize that it was sexual assault.” You snapped, then sighed, “I’m sorry Agent Morgan. It’s touchy.” Zoey took your hand, Liz took your other one, Brooke reached over and put her hand on top of Zoeys. “To be honest, I don’t know where I would be without these three.” You admitted. Emily admired it, the sisterhood between you four.

“How long have you guys been friends?” JJ asked.

“We met in high school, then formed the band.” Brooke answered.

“Do you know if he’s out?”

You sighed, “he is. But he lacks the brain cells to pull this stuff off.”

“It’s not that hard to mail letters.” JJ said.

“Yeah but, he shouldn’t know the exact times we show up at venues, interviews, he isn’t smart enough to think of how to obtain that information. As kids he was not smart, at all.” You said, letting go of your friends’ hands and you started rubbing your hands on your jeans.

Emily noticed how all of them kept their hands on you, as a way of comfort.

“Unless he was following the bus,” Zoey said.

“He’s too lazy.” You said, “never had energy for thorough shit.”

“What’s his name? We’re gonna send it to our technical analyst.” Morgan said.

You nodded and spoke the name you’ve feared for far too long. “Peter Brady, he was born in my home state

“Okay,” Hotch started, “I want all of you to be shadowing the girls, they are not to be left alone, we don’t know how organized this guy is and what he knows.” He looked at Rossi, “we’ll contact Garcia and run through possible people. Do you have anywhere to set up?”

Ramona began directing them to rooms, then told all of you to get changed and do rehearsals for the tour.

JJ and Reid sat in during the rehearsals, meanwhile Emily and Morgan helped Hotch and Rossi with going through all the names that Garcia flagged as potentially dangerous.

Two hours later, Emily was eating dinner, she was planning to eat alone, but then she found you. You were sitting on the floor backstage, by a bunch of wires and such eating your pizza. You were alone.

“Hey,” Emily said.

“Hi, did Ramona send you because I’m alone?” You asked, smiling slightly.

“No,” Emily said sitting next to you, “I can recognize when someone needs someone to talk to. Where are your friends?”

“They’re talking to their partners, I insisted they do. They haven’t been the past couple of nights because of all this. Part of being….’famous’ is that you have to leave your loved ones for long periods of time.” “My field is the same way. I don’t see my mom more than twice a year.”

You shuddered, “I can barely handle not seeing my mom as much as I used to before ‘fame’. I can’t imagine it in your shoes.” You sighed.

Emily popped open her salad box, “do you mind if I eat with you?” She smiled.

And she smiled wider when you smiled back, “feel free. By the way, I’m sorry about snapping at you. It’s been rough.”

“I know how you feel.” Emily would tell you about Doyle if it helped you open up more about this guy.

“Have you been stalked?”

Emily nodded, “by an abusive ex.” Was all she said.

You grimaced, “so we’ve gone through similar things.” “Was this guy an ex?” You shook your head, “we were thirteen and fourteen, as kids navigating those feelings can be hard. I’d say we were close to dating then he...he pushed too far. I wasn’t raped, but he touched me inappropriately, then harassed me over text. Then continued for three years, he’s been silent ever since and now all of a sudden 12 years later he’s back.” You laughed bitterly, “and I have no doubts he’s done things to other women. Do you think because I didn’t report, it’s my fault that this is happening? And he’s most likely doing this to other women?” You asked her.

Emily shook her head, “It’s not your fault Y/N, it never will be. He’s a sick creep, and we’re gonna get him.” She assured you. “Can we talk about something else?” You asked.

“Sure.” Emily smiled.

You felt your heart stutter.

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

Over the next few days, you and Emily had fallen into a routine.

You ate all your meals together. Breakfast at 6am in the hotel lobby, lunch in the dance rehearsal room, dinner in the backstage area.

Of course, your friends teased you relentlessly. And her team teased her relentlessly.

But you two didn’t care, you found solitude in each other's company, considering both of your worlds were hectic and crazy.

You two were eating chicken tenders for lunch before vocal and dance rehearsal in the dance room when Marcus walked in, “hey, some fanmail was left for you.” He handed you a blue box.

“I’m surprised you can bring it to me.” You said grabbing it.

“It went through security first.”

That was a good sign, you opened it and saw a diamond necklace, “holy shit.” You murmured, it was stunning and sparkly.

Emily thought it described you personally.

You took it out of the box and set the box on the ground. Emily saw a tag in the box. She grabbed it. She pulled it and it revealed a bigger note. She picked it up and read it.

“Y/N….” Emily started.

“What?” You asked, scared.

Emily cleared her throat, “for you my love, it matches your smile. Remember that night under the stars at that restaurant our parents took us to as kids? It’s one of my fondest memories.” You dropped the necklace as if it had burned you.

It had.

It clattered against the floor, you shot off the ground. “Get it away from me! Get the box away from me! Get it all away!” You started crying. “No, no, no, no.”

“Go get my team, now!” She ordered Marcus who ran off with his concern and protectiveness in his eyes.

She approached you, “can I touch you?” She asked.

You fell into her arms, “he found me. He actually fucking found a way to torment me. After all these years, I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. Please don’t let him get me.” You sobbed into her arms.

She looked at the diamonds on the ground, the sparkling contrasted against the dull gray floor, she stroked your hair as she said, “I won’t, he will never touch you again.”

And she would die to ensure that that promise was kept.

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

Two hours later, you were in vocal rehearsals. You had to do questioning as well as calm down from your panic attack.

You would only allow Emily near you.

You two walked side by side to vocal rehearsals, the girls immediately rushed to hug you. Emily stepped back as the three of them hugged you. It was a huge group hug.

“Oh sweetheart.” Brooke said and kissed your head. “Baby, we tried to get in there but they wouldn’t let us.” Zoey said, “I almost kicked that damn door down but Ramona pulled me away.”

“We got you, that bastard isn’t going anywhere near you,” Liz declared.

Emily heard a sniffle from you, and the girls all “aww’d.”

“Babyyy.” Liz cooed as they all held you tighter.

After about three minutes of you trying to calm down, you four separated, all of you were wiping your eyes. “God, we really do feed off each other huh?” You tried to lighten the mood. They all smiled, trying to keep the light mood going.

They all said hi to Emily, then headed towards a couch. You four then sat down and began singing.

Okay, she had heard your records, after all your band was one of the biggest bands in the world, the biggest girl group.

But God, she did not expect you to not have an auto-tuned voice. None of you do. All four of you have amazing voices but yours…

It was rich like dark chocolate, she wanted to hear you sing all. the. time. It was like a siren, captivating and lustful. You were calm while singing, nobody would know that your stalker had just dropped off a box with diamonds in it two hours ago.

Then to make you laugh Zoey broke out with an off key note and made you burst out laughing.

That laugh warmed Emily, she realized how much she loved your company and what she would do to make you laugh like that at her.

Oh God, she was falling for you. And she was falling hard.

Shit.

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

Two hours before the show was supposed to go on, they caught him.

He was staking out before the show, Garcia had his picture sent to all the guards and they found him.

Everyone else went to question him, while Emily stayed with you. It was a few minutes before showtime, makeup artists and hair stylists were doing final touches. As well as the stylists.

“Twitters blowing up.” Ramona said from her chair.

“About?” You asked, jumping to shake the nerves.

“The guy who got arrested in front of the venue.”

You looked at Emily, “dear god.”

“JJ will handle it.” She assured you all.

“Good.” Zoey said.

You nodded to a corner at Emily, she nodded and followed you over. “I just wanna say, thank you for helping me and spending time with me. I know it’s your job but,” you sighed, “if you’d allow me, I’d like to take you out on a date when we have a show in DC. We’re staying for a couple days doing press and I’d like to go out on a date with you, if you’d like?” Emily smiled and blushed hard, “I would be honored, Y/N.”

The smile you had could light up the night sky, “thank you, Emily. You won’t regret it.”

“Ramona called, “Y/N! Show time!”

“One sec!” Then shoved a piece of paper into her hand, “I hope to hear from you.” Then you kissed her cheek and ran off to stage.

She opened the piece of paper, “to my hero, I hope to hear from you.” Then underneath was your number.

She sighed happily, then went to find her seat in the stadium so she could watch her siren queen perform.

#Criminal Minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x y/n #jj criminal minds #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x you #Paget Brewster #paget brewster x reader #Jennifer Jareau #jennifer jareau x reader #jennifer jareau x you #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #david rossi #derek morgan #derek morgan x reader

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fictropes · 4 years

Note

Ok but what if you wrote a 2009 Dan letter 👀👀

you have caught me still in the letter writing headspace, so.. as a treat. i said dan will use textspeak in letter form due to being a lazy boy.

Phiiiiiiiiiil,

was that enough i’s? I wanted 2 like capture the actual me saying ur name irl lmao xD. (omfg... that is hard to actually write .. no more emoticons on paper). just imagine i’m there and i’m shouting ur name cos I want u to come upstairs like 5 minutes ago and kiss me already... did u know I miss you? is it obvious yet?

the like second i left ur house I felt all upset and stuff, like my arm was ripping off and getting stuck in your door trying to keep me there lmfao. it wanted to stay behind :( it got super extendy and clung onto ur house until i forced it away. ugh i am making no sense, i have phil based brain rot.

do you think i could get a pigeon 2 deliver this? i think ud be well excited if a bird flew into your window. sadly tho i am not the one with the weird animal powers, maybe u can get an owl to send me a letter back. not that u have to.. not that i will check the post every day just incase... or anything :3. (i just want somethign something to add to my secret box of u).

i hope ur having a good xmas! which brings me on 2 the whole reason for this letter. tho i am SURE you already noticed the thing in the parcel, this letter is probs an afterthought that u will read in like 5 day when u stop being distracted by the shiny thing. I know we technically already did the whole gift thign thing but i saw this an though of u so..... here you go :). it’s like not a lot but hopefully it will make u think of me, and not hot men on surfboards.... just remember i’m like top 10/10 at blowing you ;).

i miss that too..not to write u a literal porno lmfao but yeh... i might keep thinking about how you felt and what u made me feel and all that jazz. ugh whatever shutup brain stop making urself feel sad AND horny..

letters make me feel like i’m in a movie.. there is totally big dramatic music playing right now, we actually are a romantic movie and there’s nothing wecan do about it :). guess u will just have to also do a big gesture likeeeee come see me as soon as u can but ideally when it’s snowing so we can make out whilst snowflakes land on us,.. and it will be snowflakes, not like a bad case of dandruff xD (that was called 4 .. and slightly better than the first).

I can’t stop writing now, i’m like phil needs to know all the words the crawl into my ears and into my stupid brain, i’m basically running out of paper tho cos apparently we are a no paper household. i guess i’ll just have to text u all the other stuff.. and maybe a photo.. or something.

to sum it up - i miss you so much, i got you another present, you don’t have 2 write back but think of my sad little face stood at the front door everyday...

this whole letter ordeal kinda made me want to attach a locket of my hair but thought probs 2 much. tho if u are interested in wearing a piece of me every just let me know.. :3.

Love

Dan (that boy who doesn’t have abs but makes up 4 it in having a massive mouth)

P.S see you sooooooon, though soon is never soon enough. x

P.P.S tell ur family i said hi!!!!!! and merry christmas :).

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justjessame · 3 years

Text

Starting Over Chapter 17

Now I know most people would think that hearing their best friend dangling a carrot of temptation like “did you go through ANYTHING in the shed” would have them rushing out with a flashlight to their backyard and unlocking the damn thing to see what might be waiting for them. Or at the very least, since it was starting to grow dark, a slightly less dramatic start might be the bedroom across the fucking hall from theirs?

Yeah, well, I’ve never really checked the “normal” box on any fucking form and coming back from where the fuck ever Thanos the big purple peckerhead snapped me off to didn’t change that personality trait. Sorry to disappoint.

If Connie was coming over to force me to face whatever was in my dad’s workshop and whatever else my parents left me, with Bryn in tow, I should probably make sure that I had something to keep her mini me occupied. After I grabbed a sandwich, some chips, and glass of tea I headed up to my room - where a stash of my childhood shit that I kept “just in case” lived and hoped I could find something that the three year old would find fascinating.

Morning dawned as they had since I returned. Gasping, shivery, but now with the addition of the murmurs from the television that I left on thanks to Bucky Barnes. My hand was reaching for my cell phone before I made the conscious decision to do it, and I sighed when I didn’t see a pineapple waiting for me. It was still early, so I took a beat to run through my mental checklist of what I’d put in place downstairs for Bryn.

I’d taken my copies of the princess movies downstairs along with a few dolls and some picture books that I’d loved. There was a tea set and a few stuffies and I hoped that she wouldn’t be too bored while her mommy was dealing with my bullshit.

While I was considering what I should make for lunch, or if I should toss together something for breakfast too, my phone chirped. It was still beside me on the bed, so I didn’t have to reach. Thinking it would be Connie, I lifted it up - I had never seen a phone number like it before, but there it was - my pineapple. I shook my head even as my smile grew. At least I knew he was alive. That was one good thing going for me today.

Connie called a few minutes later, telling me that she’d be over after she got Bryn cleaned up after breakfast - answering one of my questions right off the bat. I told her I’d hop in the shower and be waiting for them.

“Don’t make a fuss,” she warned me. “Bryn’s three, the fact that she’s never been to your house makes it like Disneyworld automatically.” I rolled my eyes. “I mean it, Brooke.”

“I know you do, Connie,” I agreed, sliding out of bed and moving to the closet to grab something to wear, but then I realized that I didn’t know what we were about to do. “Um, are we going to be digging into something dusty and gross?”

She snorted and when I didn’t react she went so silent I thought she hung up on me, but a check of the phone told me she was still there. “You’re joking?” I assured her I wasn’t. “What the fu -” she stopped and I waited while she apologized to Joey, apparently Bryn was picking up some “adult language” and sharing it with the other children at daycare and preschool - I snorted, like those kids didn’t already hear that shit at home. “What would your dad have in his workshop that we’d need to DIG, Brooke?” I could HEAR her eyes rolling. “Wear what you normally do, you fu -” I heard her groan and mutter to herself about politically correct nonsense. “Go shower, we’ll be there in about an hour.”

I had ice tea, soda, juice, and water, along with some of Bucky’s beer in the fridge, but I highly doubted that Connie would consent to letting Bryn partake in that. I was showered and dressed, and was taking stock of the kitchen while I waited for them to come. I had sandwich stuff on hand, along with some staples, and if all that failed there were enough takeout menus in the drawer to keep us fed.

The knock came at around the hour mark, and when I opened the door Bryn was staring up at me like she was seeing me for the very first time - again. She really did look around the house like it was an adventure, and I could see the “I told you so” building in Connie’s face.

Showing them the living room, where I’d set up the “play area”, you’d have thought Christmas came early. The tiny tot squealed and clapped her hands, then she was having a tea party with the dolls and stuffies after choosing the first princess movie to play while they partied. I supplied the “tea” -water, Connie insisted - promising I’d thank her during the cleanup, while filling a sippy cup with some juice for the hostess.

With Bryn occupied, I thought we’d get to work, but Connie shook her head and pulled me into the dining room, adjacent to the living room so we could keep an eye and ear on Bryn. With glasses of tea in front of us, she sighed and I got worried.

“When IT happened,” Connie was looking at her glass, finger tracing a drop of condensation as it dripped down the glass. “I started calling you immediately. As soon as the news hit, as soon as the first moment we knew SOMETHING was going on -” She looked up and I nodded, I figured she would have, along with Mom and Dad. “Your dad came home, he ran to your room because he knew you’d planned on staying in and being lazy.” Connie smiled, the memory of Dad making her sad, but also nostalgically happy.

I opened my mouth, but was at a loss for what to say. What could I say? It’s ok? I was Snapped into non-existence, but I’m here now, so we’re cool? I mean, we were, but clearly she wanted to tell me something.

“He ran in, seeing a thousand texts and calls from me, but it was what he FELT that got him.” I squinted at her, confused. She reached out and took my hand. “When I came over, since I couldn’t get in touch with you, he was with your mom and she was in pieces - falling apart because you weren’t here and everything that you’d take with you if you went out was still here, but he wasn’t. He was adamant, Brooke, absolutely adamant that you were coming back.” “He was hopeful, Connie, that’s all.” She shook her head and I sighed, but her hand squeezed mine.

“Your dad and mom were the MOST pragmatic people I’ve ever known, Brooke. Hell, everyone in this neighborhood agrees.” I knew what she meant, our family was the no nonsensical, straight to the point people. We didn’t do sugarcoating. “When Baxter got hit by the car when we were ten -” I rolled my eyes, her dog, a sweet darling of a mutt. “Everyone, including my brothers were telling me that he was gonna be fine, that he was gonna pull through and live to play fetch another day, but your dad took me aside and -”

“Told you that sometimes dogs don’t pull through, that sometimes they’re not strong enough, but not to worry because you took Baxter to the Feast of St. Francis and he was blessed and that meant that he’d be safe on the other side and waiting for you.” I remembered, vividly because I’d been just as sad and upset.

“Exactly. So when a man like your dad, Andrew Ashley, tells me that you and all the other people who disappeared into nothing are going to come back one day? I believe him.” She gave my hand another squeeze and I thought, ok now we can get to work, but she wasn’t done. “Your mom, she didn’t get there as fast.” She let my hand go and took a drink from her glass. “She avoided your room like you’ve been avoiding the shed and their bedroom.” She was smirking at the knowledge that she knew me so well. “When I found out I was pregnant, I wanted something of yours with me, Brooke.”

“That’s where it went,” I shook my head and she grinned at me. “I wondered, it’s hung in my window since I came home from that nightmare.”

“Since WE came home from that nightmare, you mean.” Connie’s smile was firmly locked in place. “I called up your mom and told her the news, asking for something to keep with me, and she finally went into your room.” I waited, wondering why it took crossing a threshold into a damn room for something to click into place? “And that was it, Alice Ashley came out just as convinced as your dad. She looked so much more at peace, Brooke. She went along with your dad, but knowing it for herself, it was like a weight came off of her.”

“So they just knew?” I didn’t get it, not even a little bit. “How?”

Connie shook her head. “No idea, but I do know this - when two of the most stocic and staid people in the community tell you that people will come back, you believe them. And I did.”

“What’s in the shed?” I wanted a head’s up. Some kind of hint, something to go on. “Why do you think it’s important for me to know now?”

“It’s important, dumbass,” she shot a look toward the living room and let out a relieved breath when she realized that Bryn hadn’t heard her slip. “Because what’s in the shed has been there since BEFORE you got Snapped into wherever, but we’re not going there first. We’re going upstairs.”

“Upstairs?” I was confused and only growing more so. “Why?”

Connie sighed, like she was sick of my shit already. “It’s time to show you that your parents knew you better than you know yourself, Brooke.”

Bryn’s tea party became a portable one. Upstairs to my room, where she got to play on the floor while the television played another princess movie. She was having fun, which made one of us.

My parents’ bedroom door loomed far larger than it really was - and it was firmly closed.

“Open it, Brooke.” Connie nudged me, and I bit my lip. “For God’s sake, it’s a door.”

“Yeah, it is.” I agreed, a door that I wasn’t really excited to open. What if Mom’s perfume lingered? What if Dad’s cologne does? What if nothing about them lingers? I took a deep breath and reached for the doorknob.

The room looked the same, but foreign. A hint of both of them seemed to lurk just out of reach, as if I could almost grasp it if I could find it, but where was it?

Their bed was still made up in the same sheets and bedding that Mom had picked months before I’d gone away. Her cosmetics were still lining the vanity table that Dad had created in his workshop, craftsmanship that could only happen by hand. A mirror she’d found and had re-done hung on the wall behind it. My reflection stared back at me, a sad mimicry of the woman she’d been.

Dad’s table still had his reading glasses, the pair he kept solely for reading before bed and the remote, the lamp tilted so he’d have the perfect lighting even if it would annoy Mom’s need for perfection. I wondered what book he read last, if he had it tucked in the drawer, but Connie’s voice cut through my reverie.

“See these?” She was staring at a set of photographs that my parents had framed and hung on their wall. They were black and white, and I knew them very well - I’d taken them. I nodded. “When you took that job that you were muddling through the commute every day?” I started to say something, but she snorted and kept talking. “Your dad had reprints of these made and did some research, he sent out feelers and found out that you have an eye. A talent, something that we ALL knew, including your dumb ass, but instead of taking that scholarship that you were offered to do something with your artistic talent, you went and -” She sighed. “He didn’t want you to settle, Brooke, neither of them did.”

“We couldn’t afford for me to play artist, Connie,” I owed them more than to play at photography. “Besides, these were just shots I took to -”

“To set up the cheap and old camera that our high school gave you to use for yearbook,” she nodded, “I know. And yet,” she walked to my parents’ closet and pulled out a huge fucking box. “This is ALL the presents for all the birthdays and holidays you missed, including the birthday that came right after the Snap. Come on, Brooke, let’s go have a party with Bryne.”

#bucky barnes/oc #the falcon and the winter soldier #alternate universe #fluff #slow burn #eventual smut

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black-streak · 5 years

Text

Saturday night's alright for fighting (but Sundays are meant for rest) - In which a date is Had

Part 5

Aaaaand back to your regular scheduled fluff (though there is a tiny touch of angst here that you can miss if you blink too long) I really need to find a way to connect these, but I also refuse to leave mobile... Oh! And I have people to tag now? Sooo, here you go, @poshplumcot & @emjrabbitwolf

~---~

The almost run in with Red Hood the night before had Marinette on edge. She slept for only a few scant hours before waking in the morning hyper aware of her surroundings; skirting corners and slinking about her apartment, ready to bolt should the need arise.

In hindsight, the vigilance only added to her anxiety, lending itself to her in the form of launching bodily away from her phone when it buzzed without her permission.

How dare it! Didn't it know better than to startle her?

Peering over the edge of a half wall, she glared at the offending object only for it to light up and buzz again! How rude!

Picking her way over to it, she held it by a corner and tapped the screen to find two messages from "Mon Somnambule". Perking up and opening the chat it read, 'What time should I expect you over?' and then, 'youre still coming, right?'

Scrambling to answer, Mari quickly typed a reassurance and asked if he had a preference in time as her schedule was cleared for the day.

'Somehow free as well. Come by round 2? Or could pick you up. Have a movie marathon.' He texted back.

Checking the time and nodding to herself, she sent an affirmation and let Tim know she'd be fine getting there on her own.

Now for the real question: what does one wear to a lazy Sunday movie marathon that is also technically a first date?

Walking into her room, she saw the decision had been taken out of her hands, two blurs of kwami rampaging the walk in closet.

"Plagg! Trixx! Get out of there!"

The orange blur stopped, then suddenly popped up into her space, "Guess I won't tell you what we put together then. Tragic really, probably forgot all about it in the back there. Oh well, if the Kit doesn't want help… come on Plagg, let's leave her to it." Trixx drew out, exaggerated movements and mournful sighs as he moved away, Plagg snickering from where he waited back in the closet.

Deadpanning at the little fox, Mari moved towards where they had been, only to light up and gasp upon finding the blood red hooded dress, complete with long sleeves and asymmetrical hemline. Pulling it out, she set it on the bed with black sweater boots and a thin black choker with gold swirls she grabbed off her necklace rack.

"You win this round. It's in his colors too!"

"Well he did say you were his, yes?" Trixx teased.

"Perhaps you shouldnt wear that after all," Plagg growled.

"Oh hush, I know you approve, whether you admit it or not." Marinette scoffed, leaving to take a quick shower.

….

At 2 o'clock on the dot, Tim lost his filter.

"You're on time."

"Should I not be?"

"You're never on time."

" I can leave and come back in 10 if you prefer?"

"No no, come in. Sorry, just taken by surprise is all."

It was then that he took a moment to take her in as she went past him, door closing and locking behind her. Only to find her studying him too.

"Gray sweats and a pale blue t-shirt. Any particular reason for that?"

"No clue what you're talking about," he stated flippantly, taking hold of her hand as he sidled past her. "Did you have something in mind you wanted to watch?"

"Hmm… Harry Potter?"

"...which?"

"You did mention a marathon, right?"

"Even I know watching 8 movies in a row isn't healthy. Alfred will sense our bad decisions and hunt us down for even trying."

"No, of course not, but we could watch a few today and watch the rest later?" She hinted, looking around to take in the living space, having never been here before.

"You haven't even survived this date yet and you're asking for another?"

"Is that okay?" She peeked up at him, blushing.

"I mean, yeah, but it's your own fault if you come to regret it."

"I won't," she intoned, turning to look about once more, "should we set up in the living room," she asked before he could respond.

Within a few minutes, they were ready, snacks and drinks laid before them with the first movie queued up, speakers blaring the opening lines of Hedwig's theme, nostalgic notes swirling around them and yet they sat perfectly still, a foot apart.

She broke the silence first, "Why does this feel so much different?"

"...How do you mean?"

"We've fallen asleep together in your bed before and yet here we are, a foot apart and avoiding eye contact on the premise of watching a movie we've both probably seen at least a dozen times."

"Different context. Our naps are something started with no expectations or labels. Now it's been labeled a date, that freedom is lost."

"... That's stupid."

"Completely unreasonable."

"Idiotic, flawed logic."

"Couldn't agree more."

They sat in silence another few minutes.

"We still haven't done anything about it."

"I know."

"Hnph."

Swallowing down his anxious energy, Tim turnt and took her hand that lay furthest from him, guiding it over and past his shoulder, resulting in her torso twisting and stretching out to lay across his. Only he completely miscalculated in his distracted state and ended up bumping heads with her, which in turn made her jump back, arm still at his shoulder, yanking him forward. They fell completely off balance and landed on the opposite side of the couch, him lying atop her small frame.

Freezing in place, wide eyed, Tim was unsure how to recover when a small giggle came from above. Which then turned into a full bellied laugh. Cautiously, he lifted himself up off her only to watch her eyes spring tears of mirth as she tried to catch her breath.

"I guess that's one way to break the tension!"

Letting out a whoosh of air, he slumped back down on her in relief.

"Hey! Don't crush me!" She gasped, squirming under him.

"I know for a fact you can handle more weight than this."

"You know nothing!"

"I know many things."

Shifting, he landed beside her, turning towards the movie and manipulating Mari around till her back pressed into his chest, "Better?"

"Much," she murmured, tilting back to brush a kiss across his jaw before returning to watching the movie.

…

"How does this whole mother's love thing work? By blood? That makes no sense! Petunia obviously doesn't love him, so shouldn't that cancel it out somehow? I think Rowling was off her rocker when she decided this."

"Or it was just an excuse to keep him in his state of being the abused tragic character."

"What if that whole thing was a lie? Wasn't Dumbledore grooming him for suicide or something? Probably wanted to keep him under such horrible circumstances to reaffirm his love for Hogwarts and desire to return even after his life was threatened all those times."

"And this is the gay representation she wants to give us? Sounds homophobic to me. Let Seamus and Dean love each other, damnit!"

"And Ginny and Luna!"

"Really?"

"Yeah, why not?"

"... You're right, let them date too! And make Harry Bi, you pansy!"

…

They ended up taking a break between the first and second movie, taking the time to order delivery, get new drinks, use the bathroom, etc., before returning to the couch, Tim spooning Marinette once again.

"Are you okay?" He asked, softening his tone.

"Yeah, why?"

"You slipped up last night. I could see your eyes in the last few moments there."

"Is that why you're wearing blue and gray?" She teased, deflecting.

He blushed, but remained undeterred, "Lutine."

"... I didn't slip up."

"You never let yourself be seen. What changed?"

"You."

"..."

"I want you to know me. Especially if we're going to be continuing this. I've tried dating with a secret identity. It never works out. I know you on both sides, observed you without letting you return the favor. I want to change that."

She laced their fingers, lifting to press a kiss to his wrist, eyes closed.

He stayed quiet, observing her now, vulnerable and fragile, waiting upon his judgement.

"Were you planning to reveal yourself?"

A small nod.

"But then Jason showed up?"

Another nod.

"And you still won't tell him? He's going to be fine with it, you know."

"Soon. It didn't feel right to come out of hiding to you both at the same time like that."

They fell silent, taking everything in, only to jump at the doorbell. Rushing up, Marinette went to answer it, returning and pulling out boxes of Chinese before setting up the second movie. As it started, they let it drop for now, touching from shoulder to hip where her leg deviated to wrap around his, reassuring each other that they were okay.

…

"Can we just talk about Lockhart though? He is such a little manipulative jerk! He wanted to leave them in the chamber! A bunch of 11 and 12 year olds! Who does that?!"

"Literally any DADA professor Dumbly door decides to hire, apparently. And what's with the reliance of these adults on children to save their skins? Is that what boarding school is all about? Letting children raise themselves?"

"I'm so sick of these God awful adults pushing all of their responsibilities and mistakes on to literal kids to fix and take care of. He can barely take care of himself and you want him to save everyone? Just like that? With no help or guidance, just, 'here you go kid, lack of support for breakfast, negligence of supposedly trusted adults for lunch, an emotional breakdown for dinner, and a punctured lung for dessert!"

"... You want to talk about it?"

"Not really…"

"Okay."

…

By the end of the second movie, the sky had darkened considerably, having taken quite a while to start up any of them, it was now past eight, still early for them, but late enough to bring a different atmosphere, hushed and intimate between them.

"You look good in red."

"Oh?"

"Mm," Tim hummed, nudging the choker round her neck with his nose, "I like this little detail here too."

Goosebumps raising where skin met, she twisted to face him, lips ghosting over to his ear.

"It reminded me of you."

Faster than she could react, she felt a hand holding her face in place as lips descended upon her own, insistent and sure footed.

Mari desperately wanted to return the passion, to push into him and give as good as she got, but all she could do was melt in his embrace, unreasonably warm at how assertive it felt.

Pulling back for air, he watched her gasp, enjoying the flush to her skin and glaze to her eyes.

"Did you still want to watch the third movie?"

"... Yeah. Couch is getting a bit uncomfortable though."

"We could relocate."

"Please?"

…

At some point after having borrowed a spare toothbrush, washed her face, settled into Tim's bed- which was somehow different to being in the one at the manor- and starting the last movie, they had stopped paying attention and started focusing on each other. Passionate kisses turned into making out turned into soft brushes of lips over skin and finally settled into curling up around each other to sleep.

Tomorrow they would return to their hectic lives of running a company and finishing commissions for high profile clientele along with running around at night protecting a city that refused to protect itself, but for now, it was just them. Just this one peaceful night, wrapped in each other's arms.

#maribat #timinette #ml x dc #second hp commentary is pretty obvious on who's saying what #first set is up for interpretaion though #does anyone want to see her first reveal to Tim of her actual hero form?#or skip straight to stalking Jason?

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heartslogos · 3 years

Text

the declassified texts of the inquisition’s elite [166]

(914): I apparently sent an offer letter to, and then subsequently onboarded, the wrong candidate. How's your Monday? -

“How incredibly unusual. Josephine doesn’t make mistakes like that,” Vivienne says, “She’s entirely too organized for such a thing. Do I dare make the suggestion that the chain of command is falling into disarray?"

“You can suggest it, but I won’t be around to hear you do so,” Max replies. “I’d prefer it if I wasn’t in the same building as you entirely, thank you.”

Vivienne’s lips quirk up as she signs her name on the last receipt with a slight flourish as her only signal to how much she’s truly enjoying the current situation. It’s not a situation meant to be enjoyed, of course.

Josephine’s department making a mistake like that and having it go all the way to the stage where to back out would be to lose extreme face, is so highly unusual and worrisome that it can only scream, yell, bellow, holler, and cry of a deeper problem.

“Is our poor Ambassador overly booked?” Vivienne asks as she hands the documents back to Max to file with their Quartermaster. Vivienne turns over her shoulder. “Careful, mind you. I say that more for your safety than that of what’s inside of those boxes. Those chemicals are inexpensive and low on our priority list for resupply, certainly, but if any of it leaks onto you, we’ll be in very dire straights. Gently, my dears. Caution almost never betrays.”

“That’s why I’ve been pulled from field work, I assume,” Max answers her, peering around Vivienne to watch them unload. “How’s the research going? I’m not sure what on. I’m sure it’s on something suitably mind blowing. Don’t go into details. You know the jargon will fly over my head and it’ll have us both feeling disappointed in me.”

Vivienne hums, focus still mostly on the unloading of her new shipment of chemicals and sundry equipment.

“Tell the Quartermaster that renovations are almost entirely complete in the new lab building and inventory stocks are mostly filled,” she says instead of answering his question. “But I am concerned that other lab employees are scavenging through this one whenever they run low because they’re too lazy to fill out the requisite forms needed for their own buildings. I will not have my new building opening with a deficit and ruined books just because the other Leads can’t manage their staff.”

“Duly noted and I’ll pass that on to Threnn as soon as I see her.”

“Who’s taking over your field work?”

“Herah.”

“Odd. I thought Herah was also being pulled from fieldwork to assist Josephine’s department.”

“Must have been pulled right after me. I’m not sure who’s handling my assignments now. Maybe it’s gone straight to Rylen at this point. Herah’s field work goes to Edric. And I know Edric hasn’t been pulled for internal clean up because he’s still abroad, and as far as I’m aware the clean up is only happening at our Skyhold main base. Our auxiliary branches and locations are doing just fine. Josephine’s staff outside of Skyhold’s perfectly capable and well trained. It just seems that within our main offices…some people have been getting slack.”

Max pauses to consider. "Or maybe we all suffer from the exact same problem here at headquarters.”

“And what problem is that?”

“A general unwillingness to let other people do our work for us,” Max replies. “Unless placed under extreme duress.”

“Are you accusing certain parties of being unable to delegate their work properly?”

“Accusing? You make it sound so harsh!” Maxwell waves his hands, keeping the signed documents carefully pinned under his arm. If he loses them Threnn will have his head. Vivienne probably would find it mildly entertaining or mildly annoying, depending on how comical it looks if he loses them right in front of her directly after she finished signing them. But Threnn would be absolutely livid. “Besides, it’s a problem most of us are guilty of. Myself included.”

“Hm.” Vivienne’s still keeping a careful watch on the people unloading and carrying items into the lab building behind her. “So who did Josephine accidentally hire and how bad is it?”

“Not a clue,” Max answers. "I didn’t ask. I had a feeling it might not go over well. The Iron Bull is probably going to kidnap Josephine for a few hours and have her unwind.”

“A wonderful idea. He’s a very astute man. I’d say he’s wasted working covert intelligence, but it does seem to make him feel fulfilled.” Vivienne sighs. “And that’s what anyone can ask for out of a job, really. That and adequate reimbursement. Though that isn’t a problem the Inquisition has ever had. Maybe I should check in on Josephine as well. Offer her some advice on finding suitable assistants.”

The older woman’s face pinches immediately after saying that. “Though considering my own high turn around that may seem hypocritical. No. I’ll just ask her out for a light lunch when I see she has time free on her calendar. Or perhaps I’ll schedule one of our next meetings during a lunch instead. Do you suppose the Iron Bull knows who’s slid into our ranks by mistake?”

“Best check with one of Leliana’s immediate staff,” Max replies. “They’re probably the ones assigned to do clean up on this. I mean. We are keeping the new hire for sure. I imagine that whoever ended up slipping in wasn’t entirely a lost cause. They must have passed our background checks to have even gotten to Josephine’s desk for approval in the first place. I”m sure it can’t be that bad. And it’s not like we can’t hire the other one we meant to get instead. We’re always short on personnel. Maybe we can transfer one of them to oversee the set up of your new lab.”

“A charming idea.” Vivienne’s tone of voice, however, says that she clearly disapproves of the idea. Vivienne’s always been protective of the things she’s considered hers. It’s one of her most endearing qualities that reminds Max that he probably shouldn’t be afraid of her. After all, she’s apparently decided she’s suitable to be considered one of hers. “Do go run along now. I’ve got to make sure these boxes are going to the right storage rooms, and I’m sure our dear Quartermaster is wondering what a simple sign and deliver is taking you so long.”

#heartsfic #gather your party and venture forth

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silence-burns · 5 years

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Please Hate Me //part 9

Fandom: Marvel

Summary: Based on “Imagine having a love/hate relationship with Loki.” by@thefandomimagine

The bright morning sun punished you for yesterday’s laziness, burning in your eyes at around 7am.

Sure, you could have gone back to your room to spend the night the proper way, but that involved its fair share of walking, and after the pizza disaster (that involved large amounts of water gulped down), walking just wasn’t the easiest thing to do.

Another problem, and one that you never anticipated, was the lack of rooms suitable for Loki.

Technically, Stark Tower was full of spare rooms, but you had no idea which ones those were, and on what floor you’d find them. Checking every single one of them, and then finding one that included a bed and met Loki’s standards (of which he didn’t fail to inform you), wasn’t exactly in your pay grade. Therefore, you decided to distract him long enough for the delicate subject to pass.

It worked all too well as you noticed the next morning, hesitantly waking up on the couch, drooling on Loki’s leathered arm.

It was probably for the best he didn’t bother taking it off before falling asleep. You weren’t an expert, but from the look of it, the leather seemed to be thick, but elastic enough not to restrain movement and, apparently, comfortable enough to allow sleeping. Its biggest strength laid in not letting your drool any overly visible stain once you brushed it off with a sleeve, though.

Life always feels a little different around 6am. No matter how often you punish yourself by waking up at that hour, there’s no true getting used to it. The world seems a little lonelier and the discarded pizza boxes glower sorrowfully instead of just being empty.

It’s a strange world to live in and being a part of it is even stranger. Something seems to live at the back of your head, crawling its way through the lazy, waking thoughts, almost formed, but still confusing.

In that state stuck in between all states, it took you a long moment to remember who or where you were, and a second one to understand what the faint sound you heard meant. Somewhere around, probably buried under the piles of things that gathered yesterday during the night marathon, was your phone that just stopped ringing. It may have played a hand in waking you up.

Loki stirred next to you, probably woken by your rapid, uncoordinated movements. He squinted as the sun hit his eyes too and muttered what sounded like a curse under his breath.

It was truly a heart-warming experience to see him struggle to consciousness just as much as you did. For a moment you wondered if he, being a god (even a rather domesticated type), would be immune to the wonders of staying up too late, but it seemed to affect him just as much.

The curtains over the huge windows making one of the rooms’ walls were not drawn for the night, so the morning sun established dominance over every surface it could reach.

It uncovered all of the mess littering the living room with such ferocity it surely would make you embarrassed were you not too tired to care. Besides, it was not like Stark and his merry crew of world-fixers would be back anytime soon, so you still had plenty of time to sort through and clean it up.

Face contorted in pure disgust, Loki tasted the foul aftertaste in his mouth. It was a shock to find none of his teeth were missing yet.

“I absolutely hate you,” he stated with the calm sureness of a man dying from thirst.

You found a bottle by your side of the couch and emptied it. The memories of the hellish sauce still dwelled in your mouth too. “That’s fair.”

He carefully stretched his legs, groaning when the loud cracking sound violated the morning silence. The expensive couch (as everything picked by Tony) looked nice to the eye, was skillfully produced, but not the most comfortable to sleep on, which wasn’t generous to your back.

Covering a yawn that almost broke your jaw was a difficult task, but Loki didn’t seem to mind. He looked annoyingly fresh.

You nudged his side.

“So, what did you think about your first night on Earth?”

“Would’ve been better if you didn’t snore.”

“You break my heart.”

“I highly doubt you have one, unless you stole it. At least you don’t drool, I guess.”

“Of course I don’t. I’m surprised you didn’t sneak out and run away, though.”

“That would be unreasonable,” he shrugged it off.

And unnecessary, but that he wouldn’t admit openly. He still wasn’t sure how exactly the bracelet around his wrist would get in his way, and for now, he decided to leave that matter alone. For now, Loki decided to enjoy your (rather dangerous) hospitality and see how his future unfolded once the heroes came back.

You started going through the mess on the table. You had a faint memory of leaving your phone somewhere around there, but the remains of various activities of the previous day and night piled up over it.

Loki sighed when you moved empty boxes onto his lap to investigate the mess further. “Might I ask the reason for this invaluable performance?”

“I think I heard my phone.”

“And who would decide to interrupt such a lovely morning?”

“That’s the part I’m curious about.”

You found it when you had almost run out of hope and decided it must have been a part of a dream. It had a stain of what looked like that hellish sauce over the screen.

“Oh, it’s Peter,” you noticed with a hint of surprise.

The smile died on your face when you saw 8 unanswered calls. The phone was set on vibrate; it was a miracle you heard it at all.

Loki froze when he noticed your expression and paleness as you dialed the boy back.

“Is everything okay?” he asked quietly, carelessly throwing the boxes to the floor.

“He’d text if it wasn’t something big,” you almost whispered, setting the phone to the speaker.

The voice on the other side was muffled, the harsh static making it almost unrecognizable. Someone screamed in the background.

“Hey, uhhh, I’m sorry I called so early but I think we’ve got some bad aliens in the park…”

Taglist: @writerjmlove @drakonwild @eeveesjourney @lokislilcaribbeanprincess @oatballsoffury @inumorph @ejectur @nerdybabywrites @twhgirl @nikkoliferous @unlikelygalaxygiver @multifandomreaderinsertfanfics @dreamingofonceuponatime @iamfelixc @bluebunnlee

#Please Hate Me #Loki x reader #Loki x you #Loki/reader #Loki/you #loki laufeyson x you #Loki laufeyson x reader #Loki #Loki laufeyson #loki laufeysonxyou #loki laufeysonxreader #loki laufeyson imagine #loki laufeyson reader insert #Loki imagine #Marvel #Loki marvel

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shlabam · 4 years

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ALL OF CYCLOPS’ CHILDREN, RANKED

Despite being fairly young and a very active planet-saving adventurer/ crusader for mutant rights, Cyclops has managed to father a significant number of children. Sure, all of them hail from alternate futures, many of which have been erased due to the actions of Scott Summers himself, but his DNA has traveled through space and time to create, in one way or another, ten different humans throughout the Marvel Multiverse. And now, because it’s the internet, they will be ranked by coolness. Feel free to become furious in the comments. [Note: this article only discusses characters who were directly descended from Cyclops’ DNA. No adoptees, grandchildren, or in-laws, just his direct kids.]

9-10 (tie): Charles and Jeanette Summers (Millennial Visions)

Somebody’s gotta be at the bottom. These tykes only exist on one page of X-Men: Millennial Visions, a one-shot where various artists showed their ideas for what the X-Men would look like in the new millennium. One artist apparently thoughts the coolest possible idea would be for a lull in villain activity, allowing Scott and Jean to settle down and have a couple kids. Charles and Jeanette rank at the bottom of this list for having no discernible powers, as well as very lazy names. (Really? You’re gonna name them after your most important mentor, and yourself, but with an -ette on the end? Think outside the box, Red.)

6-8 (tie): Alex and the Twins (X-Men: The End)

In the alternate world of X-Men: The End, Scott and Emma Frost have four children. The oldest is later on this list, but these three duds gotta come up first, seeing as they have no traits, and two of them don’t even have names. It’s implied that they have powers and have been trained in unarmed combat, but with all their appearances being in the background and no lines of dialogue, they can’t hold a candle to the children of Cyclops who affect the worlds around them. Plus, you can’t fool me: those twins are just two spare Stepford Cuckoos with drawn-on freckles. Come on!

5: Megan Summers (X-Men: The End/ GeNext)

Megan Summers, the oldest of Scott and Emma’s children from X-Men: The End, suffers from underexposure. She mostly exists as a prop for Scott and Emma to agonize over, such as when she is kidnapped by Mister Sinister. However, as she grows into her powers (fairly potent telepathy), she enters a relationship with Oliver Raven (son of Rogue and Gambit) and joins his team GeNext, the next generation of X-Men. In another universe, she could have had her own title and adventures, but the short run of GeNext leaves most of her stories untold.

4: X-Man

Nate Grey, created by Mister Sinister using Cyclops and Jean Grey’s DNA in the alternate timeline Age of Apocalypse, could have ranked higher on this list if it was still the 90s. However, as we move further and further from his relevance, we are forced to examine his contributions to the Marvel Universe after his arrival in the main timeline: had the ego to call himself X-Man (yikes), had the ego to call himself the Shaman of the Mutant Tribe (double yikes), lost a lot of his powers in combat with the Sugar Man (what a loser), and lately has function as more of an antagonist to the team from which he took his name. Sure, he has his fans, but it’s hard to relate to a character this powerful. Bonus points for his initial escape from the Age of Apocalypse: stabbing Apocalypse’s son with a chunk of the M’Kraan Crystal. That’s some Final Fantasy ish.

3: Ruby Summers

Hailing from the same future as Bishop, Ruby acts as one of the figureheads for the Summers Rebellion, a mutant uprising to campaign for mutant rights in a world where they’re frequently held in internment camps. Another potential offspring of Scott and Emma Frost, Ruby is also the only one of Scott’s children to not exhibit telepathic powers, instead inheriting her father’s optic blasts and her mother’s invulnerable gemstone form. Additionally, she can retain her ruby form for any amount of time, granting her immortality (she looks to be in her 20s but is actually over 80 years old). Despite being interesting enough for her own series (or at least membership in a team book), Ruby only appears in a single arc in Peter David’s X-Factor, leaving much of her story untold. However, she gets points docked by being romantically linked with time-traveling serial killer and all-around grease-stain Trevor Fitzroy. Ew.

2. Cable

The most successful of Cyclops’ children, and also the only one he had intentionally. Born of Scott and his first wife Madelyne Pryor (who was a clone of Jean, so he’s kinda Jean’s kid, too), little Nathanial Summers was born with incredible mutant potential, but an infection with a techno-organic virus caused him to be pulled 2,000 years into the future where his condition could be treated. Since then, he’s traveled back and forth to the future, led scores of teams, fought Apocalypse, fought Mister Sinister, fought his own clone Stryfe, raised the first mutant born after M-Day, got fused with Deadpool, was portrayed in film by Josh Brolin, and currently exists in a younger form alongside the X-Men on the mutant utopia Krakoa. And despite all these incredible accomplishments and iconic character design, Cable just couldn’t plug in to the number one spot on this list.

1. Rachel Grey

The original, still the best. Rachel Summers has everything you want in a Cyclops offspring. Telepathic and telekinetic powers? Check. Hails from a post-apocalyptic future? Check, the world of Days of Future Past. Traumatic backstory? She was a literal slave trained to track down and kill other mutants as one of Ahab’s Hounds. Member of many teams? X-Men, Excalibur, Starjammers, and the current X-Factor, just to name a few. However, what sets her apart is her intentional iconoclastic views with her father. She adopts her dead mother’s alias, changes her last name to be closer to her, and, despite potentially having the same earth-shattering powers as her “siblings” Cable and X-Man, manages to keep it all under control, as well as occasional flirtations with the Phoenix Force. A genuine boss, a class above the rest. However, there’s another Summers son that can’t be discounted.

0. unnamed baby of Scott and Jean (X-Men: Millennial Visions)

Despite only appearing on one page of the same one-shot referenced at the beginning of this list, the sheer number of questions generated by this single illustration are innumerable. Why is this the only Cyclops kid to get both Scott and Jean’s powers? How is it possible for a baby to tap into their X-Gene at such a young age? Did Xavier design that X-Diaper, knowing the child would be the youngest member of his paramilitary force? (Eat that, 13-year-old Kitty Pryde!) This baby is everything Charles and Jeanette aren’t: potent, captivating, adorable, and lacking a first name. Give him a cinematic universe before he stops being cute.

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loquaciousquark · 5 years

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Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E83 (Nov. 5, 2019)

A day late and many dollars short, but we’re here! Tonight’s preroll: minifigs & what I assume are tonight’s guests of Liam & Matt:

which is followed by lazy susan rotating the D&D minis from eldritch-foundry.com for the rest of the cast. Cute! Anyway, Dani is back and ready to rumble! Brian is briefly lambasted for only getting through mumblemumble questions last week, but it’s all smoothed over soon enough and we move right along.

Tonight’s announcements: Undeadwood finale is delayed one week due to some post-production tech issues. Should premiere Friday, Nov. 15. Brian marvels over Matt’s speech about God being just as feral as what he creates. Matt is also surprised. Marisha is apparently the living dice Snitch of both campaign 2 and Undeadwood - everyone wonders if it’s the seat, the chair, the floor, or some innate karmic sense Marisha herself creates. CR is also partnering with Operation Supply Drop for the month of November to support veterans. Matt announces (re-announces?) that they are partnering with Amazon to create a full second animated season, as well as two more episodes to the original season one. All backers will be able to still watch the full season one for free. Everyone is so excited & I’m excited for them. Good job, tiny D&D friend group. More details on the CR Kickstarter Updates page.

And now! Episode 83: Dark Bargains

CR Stats: Liam poured wine for 49 seconds. Brief sidebar as Liam expresses genuine nervousness being on the couch beside Matt; he normally talks behind his back on TM, since he’s not sure if Matt ever watches it, but now he has to watch what he says. Caleb’s smell has been mentioned 60 times. Matt acknowledges that he is clean and washed. [doubt] Nott’s death was the 60th knockout and 8th player death of C2. Half of those deaths were Frumpkin. Liam calls Frumpkin a magic fart with a weak wifi signal.

Our first question (23 minutes in, NOT THAT ANYONE’S COUNTING), reveals that Matt did design the HFB with some “big red buttons” for the characters to press, or want to press. He expected more group approval before some of them were pressed, though (the dreadnought). Liam wanted to clear all the corners of the Baldur’s Gate map.

Caleb fears Halas because he’s one of the most powerful mages ever, he fears the lab setup/experimentation angle, he still fears the siren song, and is scared of the grains of similarity he sees between the two of them.

Liam knows they’ve continually seen fun stuff come from shitty situations, but Caleb sees the story of the HFB as “you’re not welcome here; this is going to suck for YOU! You thought you were going to have fun here? Fuck you!”

Matt loves those climactic moments though, because he loves it when the dice tell the story. Liam loves that there was a day where Matt rolled terribly in Undeadwood and played it as being embarrassed to be around all these amazing people.

Matt enjoyed getting to dig into the backstory of his world. He’s had references to pre-divergence stuff before, and it was a big joy to give more context to some of the things the M9 have been encountering.

Liam: “[Caleb] is gambling big when he thinks there’s something of worth to gain.“ He’d heard of a long-vanished mage who was messing with time stuff, and thought there might be a chance this was him. Then, once they found the gem, he started feeling this might be the real chance he needed to start messing with the crazy stuff he wants to do with time.

The bound devil was a general temptation, but in hindsight he can see why Jester was drawn to him. Matt often builds scenarios and has no idea how they will react to them (and acknowledges that the M9 did not fully read the poem that would have given them more info here), and sometimes he’s right and sometimes he’s very wrong.

Caleb is very distrustful of other arcanists and always assesses their level of threat to the group. Liam does think Caleb has come a long way since the start of the campaign. “A lot is changing for him. He’s very reactive in a lot of ways. Whatever is laid out for him in the moment that he can take advantage of, or that he cares about...I don’t know. The Betrayer Gods coming back is so much more important, and I don’t know if it’s going to make him let go of that stuff. He has to re-evaluate. He has to. He’s like an addict who has a weak day.”

Brian comments that Caleb seems to be a clinic in self-forgiveness. He wants him to do well, but at the end of the day he wants him to forgive himself. He also points out that it’s possible to get addicted to grief, and he sees that in Caleb; he’s choosing to stay in that space, and we are watching what that does to a person. Brian feels that he forms an attachment to the grief because it is the only emotional connection he has to the family he lost.

Liam nods and says these are things he’s been thinking about for months and months. He does not and did not have the answers when he created the character, and is looking forward to seeing where he ends up. He is not railroading his character; he’s letting the other players affect his character so that Caleb can remain malleable.

Matt loves how it reflects how real people inform the lives and actions of their friends in real life.

Cosplay of the Week: @suchamantis on twitter for a Caleb/spellbook cosplay. It’s gorgeous work!

Brief derailment into Liam pulling a Bane out of his mug and Matt hypersensually smelling the winner’s dice vault. I don’t even know what’s happening.

Revivify in this campaign is being used as a CPR/AED type thing. If they fail, the DC goes up and a longer-form raise dead spell must be used out of combat.

It did occur to Liam that this is the second time his bestie has been killed by a treasure box. Would Caleb make the same sacrifice? Liam says in a spooky voice that nothing is as strong as the twin bond...but when Caleb goes into full-on survival mode where all emotions are pushed to the side, he doesn’t know what would happen. He knew he was with two very magical people who could work miracles and was focused on just getting her up the steps to them. Matt was sure everyone would figure it out and was shocked when no one checked it for traps.

The effect of the diamond on Nott being different from the diamond on Cad was flavor related to the Power Word Kill trap that was on the chest. He built the revivify around that imagery in the moment. A lot of Matt’s flavor text around spells is built around the moment, the characters themselves, their gods, etc. as much as possible.

Caleb is glad to find the signs of magic that may be able to return Nott to a halfling, but was way too concerned about the gem to think about anything else at that time.

Fanart of the Week: @acemasters4 on twitter for a beautiful pastel stylized portrait of Caduceus and mushrooms.

Ashley is almost here! Brian allllmost tells us how many days but refrains. COME BACK ASHLEY.

The Angel of Irons thread has been planned since the very beginning: everything with chains and hunger was planned. He pulled it together with Yasha when he realized they would mesh well. She had created her backstory, and as the campaign proceeded he was able to marry some threads together to make story points. Liam compliments Matt’s ability to weave character & world backstory together; specifically, the crystals in Caleb’s arms were Matt’s idea after Liam sent the first draft of his backstory to Matt. Liam loved it and ran with it.

Everyone is so excited that she is coming back and Matt won’t have to plan for her to be suddenly absent again.

In a moment that shakes my world, Matt is discovered to be wrong about what class of magic Cure Wounds is in 5e. The question is about how Halas’s comment on healing being necromantic is a throwback to older editions of D&D where CW was a necromancy spell, and Dani reveals to us all that in 5e it is now Invocation. Matt chooses to accept this as a deliberate throwback to older editions to emphasize that “man out of time” feel.

Chris Perkins apparently once described BWF’s personality as “Power Word Kill for someone’s joy.” He also apparently did MMA & figure skating, because why not.

Caleb’s reference to Jester suffering in the ruby was purely coincidental regarding her mother. He didn’t realize until it popped out of his mouth.

BWF talks about how he likes where the campaign is at. He has a weird gut feeling that something exciting is about to happen. “I’m finally invested in this campaign after 83 episodes.”

Everyone pauses to talk about how beautiful Matt’s hair is blowing in the wind. BWF tells a story about how based on how they were sitting in Undeadwood filming, Matt’s hair would blow ever-so-slightly in the A/C and people thought they did it on purpose.

Matt had a good time at Blizzcon! He was glad to see people gathering for the Hong Kong protests; he understands it’s a very complicated situation where the initial punishment was way too harsh and caused a ripple effect, but he was glad to see the space where the activism was welcomed in response.

Matt enjoyed cosplaying again for the first time in a long time, both at Blizzcon and as McCree for the Halloween episode. When he was buying adhesive a shop worker upsold him on an inferior product, which is why his beard started falling off during the show. Sad times, Matt. :(

And that’s all! Is it Thursday yet?

#critical role #critical role spoilers #talks machina #talks machina spoilers #long post for ts

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