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spilledkauffie · 2 years

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🤍 Nurse of the 501st— 79’s

Pairing: Captain Rex x FemaleNurse!Reader (ft. the 501st) Word Count: 4.8k T/W: fluffffyyyy ☁️ A/N: Yikes, I didn't mean to disappear for so long, sorry this round of finals really wore me out. Anyway, I am so excited about the next part! (and other upcoming fics!!)

**this one's kind of a filler not going to lie 😅 but I couldn't get it out of my head.

Returning to Coruscant, some of the 501st boys offer to take you to a clone bar for the first time. Padmé helps you get the perfect outfit for the occasion and when Rex finds out he gets a little jealous + worried with how many other clones you’ll meet, he finds himself somewhere he didn’t expect to be again.

Preface / Injured / 79's / Orphanage / Suit Up / Taken (pt.1) ↳ m a i n m a s t e r l i s t

As the shuttle landed, you gripped your fingers a little tighter through the hooks hanging from the ceiling of the transport. Still surrounded by the 501st, General Skywalker standing directly in front of you with his ever-loyal padawan at his side, you were just beginning to feel a part of the squad, but now you doubted that. The transport was taking you from the command ship’s bay to a more central landing platform on Coruscant; the general and Rex were meeting with the Senators for a brief report, and the rest of you were given a free day, no orders. That was the exact reason you were busy lost in thought as to what do to with your time off. You figured the rest of the squad would already have plans, knowing each other so well, meanwhile, you hardly knew what to do except maybe visit the Jedi temple to try and get a meeting with Master Rig Nema, but then again a meeting would be harder to come by now that you weren’t on staff, you were a part of the army.

Biting at the inside of your lip, your brows furrowed, all alone on Coruscant didn’t sound like too much fun, you’d always kept close to Master Nema and the Temple, and you were hoping to stay close to your team, but a day off scared you more than your first mission did, so many memories could be made and you had no one to share them with. While lost in your thoughts, you hardly realised that you had slowly begun to lean gently against the clone next to you for support, free hand at your side casually and comfortably grazing against theirs every so often with the movement of the transport; it was methodic and soothing.

“You alright?” Rex suddenly asked in a soft voice, not wanting to draw attention, but still enough to snap you out of your daze.

“Hmm? Wh-” you looked to your shoulder, which was pressed against his arm; like a shock wave you realised your hand had been touching his and straightened yourself up, “oh- um, yeah, I’m fine, just fine. Sorry…”

“S’alright,” you swore you almost heard him give a chuckle underneath his helmet, but you didn’t dare look to meet his gaze, it would turn you redder than a Reek with a sunburn. Instead, you kept your head low and stared at the back of the General.

Luckily, the transport was soon to land, and you managed to avoid any further dazing. In fact, now your attention was sharper than ever, you held your breath every time Rex budged, wondering if you’d upset him by getting a little too close on accident. Maybe he was just trying to be nice, maybe he was giving you a warning, so many maybes ran through your head. But in the end, you told yourself not to project your feelings on it, he probably didn’t even care, it probably meant nothing, but your moment alone in the medical bay still played at the back of your mind… ‘no, you’re just reading into it’ you thought to yourself, physically shaking yourself out of your thoughts.

As the transport landed and the doors opened, you waited for the General and his Padawan to exit first, as they were the ones expected. When Rex began to take a step forward, you felt the back of his hand brush against yours; Rex was forced to linger a little while he waited for the General to take a few more steps forward and in the meantime, Rex’s fingertips twitched to touch yours. Before you had the chance to respond he was already walking off the transport alongside Skywalker towards the Senators.

Observing everyone else around you starting to depart, you joined in, tugging your bag a little tighter over your shoulder. Stepping off the transport, you took in a deep breath, gazing at the skyline of Coruscant, of course, there was one in every direction, but you found the one you liked most and took it in. Over your shoulder, you hear Senator Amidala greet your leaders. She was so graceful, her dress elegant, and her hair tied beautifully up in a way you were certain you could never learn. Ahsoka looked a little bored while her Master did most of the talking, one hand was crossed behind her back to hold her opposite elbow; when she looked to you she managed a subtle wave, well she thought it was subtle, but you had to laugh at the big gesture. Waving back with a smile, your attention was suddenly turned in a different direction by another familiar voice.

“Sooo, got any plans for your first big night off?” Fives asked, hoisting his satchel bag over his head, settling it across his body while making his way over to you, Echo, as ever, at his side.

“Me? Oh, probably not,” you shrugged looking between them, “I don’t know many people really, I’ve never really explored Courescant, and the Jedi temple isn’t open to just anyone so…,” you tapped your fingers along your satchel, feeling a little pathetic, “maybe I’ll visit the library before heading back to the barracks.”

“That actually sounds like a-” Echo began with an encouraging smile, but was cut off.

“Boring night, for a lady such as yourself,” Fives interjected, receiving an eye roll from Echo, “why don’t you come with us? We’d love to have another.”

“Oh, um, where are you guys going?” you asked shyly, glancing to Echo and then Fives.

“Yes, Fives, where exactly are we going?” Echo subtly positioned himself alongside you, crossing his arms over his chest, as if he was in the same boat of curiosity because he was.

“Where else?” Fives raised an eyebrow, spreading his arms.

“79’s? Of course,” Kix joined the conversation, standing next to you and Fives.

“What- what’s 79’s?” you asked, beginning to get a little more interested.

“It’s a Clone Bar,” Fives began with enthusiasm.

As Fives explained where and what 79’s was, Rex couldn’t help but draw his attention over to the crowd of clones beginning to form around you. He heard “79’s” and tried not to get too distracted with the thought of you there with every single one of his troops fawning over you, not to mention getting to see you a little less professionally. And where would he be? Probably-

“Captain?” Anakin’s voice broke into Rex’s thoughts.

Snapping to attention, Rex returned to the conversation, “Y-yes, sir?”

Padmé exchanged a look over at you, she’d noticed how Rex’s gaze often lingered in your direction. She was pretty good at picking up hints, she wondered if either of you had noticed the other’s attempts at intimacy.

“I was just telling Senator Amidala here about your injury,” Anakin gestured toward Rex’s side.

“Oh, ah, yes, nothing too serious ma’am, all in a day’s work,” Rex nodded, voice strong and confident once again.

“I’m so very glad to hear that Captain,” Padmé smiled, but opted to divert the conversation another way, “I hear you’ve acquired a new nurse in the 501st, does she meet your expectations, Captain?”

Anakin perked an eyebrow out of confusion at her, but with her eyes, Padmé gave a ‘just go with it’ glare.

“Ah…,” Rex paused, uncertain of the working, “yes, she is one of the most talented individuals I’ve had the pleasure- privilege to work with, ma’am.”

“Hmm, I’d like to meet her, if you don’t mind,” Padmé smiled, clasping her hands in front of her, which was a signature sign that the request wasn’t up for debate, “after all, I feel so bad knowing all of you and excluding her, would you mind bringing her over, Captain?”

“Of course, ma’am,” Rex complied, swallowing harshly as he started in your direction.

You were engrossed with stories from the 501st and their experiences at this clone bar. Some were so animated about it, that you had to lift your hand to cover your mouth, covering up the smile accompanying your laugh. When Rex gently approached you, he leaned down to your height to explain how Senator Amidala wanted to speak with you. You looked over your shoulder, suddenly Senator Amidala was intimidating. You leaned in closer to ask Rex some questions first, frantically adjusting your uniform.

“They make an awfully cute couple,” Padmé leaned over to Anakin, speaking in a whisper.

“You read my mind,” Anakin smirked, crossing his arms, “I wonder-”

“If they know it yet?” Padmé finished his sentence, looking at him with a smile, “me too.”

Approaching the General and the Senator, you felt your stomach tighten, the only thing that put you at relative ease was Rex standing beside you, hands clasped behind his back, shoulders tall and gaze forward, as far as you could tell with the helmet on at least. When Rex stopped, you accidentally took another step forward and had to quickly step back to match where he was. Rex held back a chuckle, it was endearing to see you still learning the structure of a well-knit team, even in the simple things, you had such individuality, something he very much admired.

“Hello, I’m Padmè Amidala,” Padmè started the conversation, sensing how nervous you were. Still, after a few formality questions and introductions, she wanted to put you at ease, and let you know that she was an ally in more than just politics, “so, I’m told you trained at the Jedi Temple, you must be very familiar with Coruscant then.”

“I did, but for medical training only,” you admitted, never wanting to give the impression that you were on par with a Jedi, it stung, but you knew it was the right thing to do, Rex’s helmet barely tilted your direction when you paused as if to check on you, “but- but I don’t actually know Coruscant very well, ma’am,” you continued, “although I believe I’m about to be introduced to a clone bar.”

Rex sighed, slowly shaking his head, Anakin chuckled, putting a hand subtly to his mouth, and Padmé smiled brightly, beyond happy that you were getting some attention.

“How wonderful, I’m sure it’ll be a good chance to bond with your squad,” Padmé kept her tone professional, and avoided the urge to elbow Anakin, she found it precious that the clones were taking a liking to you, and she didn’t mind playing as Rex’s wing woman, “and what will you be wearing?”

Padmé’s question brought a sudden heat to your face, you felt it sizzling up your neck, “ah, um, my- my uniform?” Your answer came out more as a question than a confident answer.

“Oh no, no, surely we can find you something a little less professional for a night out,” Padmé’s expression became a glowing smile, “you should come with me, I’m sure I have something more evening appropriate we can tailor to you.”

“Oh- I don’t know, I’m sure this is-” You tried to make an excuse, wondering what Rex was thinking of all this; Anakin was happy that Padmé was getting along with you and it showed by the half-smile across his face when Padmé spoke, then again he was always happy when he was around Padmé. As for Rex, however, the helmet hid everything; you were pretty good at reading his body language, but he was staying still, giving you nothing to go off of.

“You should see her closet,” Ahsoka joined in, gesturing, “it’s huge, and she has so many beautiful garments. I’m sure you’d look lovely in any of them, besides it’ll be more fun to dress up.”

“Well, I’m not-”

“Ahsoka’s right,” Anakin finally commented, “you should go with Padmé, find something nice, as your General I insist; I’ll talk to Fives, have him pick you up at Senator Amidala’s building platform.”

Without getting another word in, Ahsoka and Padmé came to either side of you, Padmé linking her arm through yours as she ushered you towards her personal transport. Anakin made a B-line for where Fives and Echo were still standing, preparing the arrangements exactly as he said he would. Rex was left in the middle of the landing platform, but instead of following his General, he just watched you, shoulders dropping a little. Until you looked over your shoulder, with something of a pleading and apologetic look, then Rex straightened up and simply nodded as if he approved, but you could tell it was for show. You sighed deeply and returned to the conversation Padmé had you in.

The entire afternoon flew by, and you had to admit, there was something kind of fun about being Padmé’s dress-up doll; most of your life you’d only known your hospital uniform and now your 501st medic uniform. Because of that, Padmé wanted to find the perfect match for you to feel confident and beautiful in. Which colours matched your eyes, your hair, your skin tone, oh and then the shoes. Ahsoka stuck around and was nothing but your number one hype woman, claiming that everything looked amazing. You were shy about the situation, and the thought of the clones seeing you in some of her outfits made you light headed. But in the end, Padmé and you settled on a silky grey outfit, it was simple but elegant, yet casual enough for a night out. The sleeves were long, with an off the shoulder neckline. A wrapped fabric sash hugged your waist, something you were very used to, and the pants flared into a lovely bell shape past your knees. The slightest sliver of your torso exposed, nothing too showy, but just enough to make it a little less uniform looking. Padmé finished the look off with a pair of her favourite sandals.

“Perfect,” she clasped her hands in front of herself once again, looking at you in her mirror, “in fact I believe the colour is a near match to the clones’ official uniforms, but don’t worry this is much more fashionable.”

“Now you’ll really look like a member of the army, Angel,” Ahsoka confidently set her hands on her hips.

“Angel?” Padmé questioned, having only heard you go by your real name.

“Oh, it’s her code name, nickname, y’know like all the clones have?” Ahsoka explained, leaning closer to whisper, “rumour from Fives is that Rex gave it to her.”

With a wink from Ahsoka, Padmé’s smile grew and you turned around to face them both, wondering what the cause of their inside amusement was, but when you gave a softly questioning look, they cleared their throats and moved on.

“So, Fives will be here any minute, how are you feeling? I heard this is your first time out and about on Coruscant,” Padmè inquired.

“Oh, um, yeah, it is,” you wrung your hands, “I’m a little nervous, to be honest,” the two exchanged a glance again, making you panic, “don’t get me wrong, I love Kix and Fives and Echo and my whole squad, I just- I’m not used to it all yet, especially this part.”

“The casual, personal part?” Padmé perked an eyebrow, but you missed her meaning.

“Yeah, that,” your tone was longing as you stared out her window at the busy Coruscant sky, “sometimes I think I’m going about it all wrong, or it’s all in my head or he-”

You paused yourself, realising that you were about to expose a deep-rooted feeling to someone on your squad, Ahsoka, and a Senator you hardly knew. Closing your mouth you tried to think of something else to talk about, but thank the stars General Skywalker walked into the room.

“Fives is here,” he announced, gesturing with a thumb over his shoulder towards the door.

“Oh boy,” you said, taking a deep breath nervously.

“Have fun,” Padmé put a hand on your shoulder, it felt motherly, in fact, it reminded you of Master Nema’s words, ‘they are your team, your family, and your friends.’

“I’m sure they just want to get to know you out of uniform,” Ahsoka smiled hoping to give you confidence, Anakin had to give an eye roll to her wording, which went completely over her own head, but the adults heard it.

“Don’t be nervous, they’re pretty tame compared to some groups, but they’re still fun, unlike some,” Anakin tilted his head back and forth, a few other clone platoons coming to mind for each extreme.

Anakin walked you down to the building’s platform, where you found your three friends, Fives, Echo, and Kix waiting for you, in proper uniforms, not their armour, which did happen to match your outfit nearly perfectly. It made you smile to see them; Anakin wished you all a good night and headed back up to the Senator’s flat. The walk wasn’t terrible and the three shared more fun stories from the bar as you headed there.

Walking in you were already wide-eyed at the colours of the neon signs, the upbeat music, and all the other clones. Echo gave you a soft nudge to your hand with his, as if encouraging you not to be nervous. Fives found a table for all of you to stand around with relative ease.

“Alright, who’s having what?” Fives pointed around the table.

“That depends…who’s paying?” Echo responded.

“Well, that’s neither here nor there,” Fives shrugged.

“I think- I might be able to get them,” you began, looking through the handbag Padmé had loaned you, for the credits you’d brought with you.

“No, no, no,” they all chimed in, waving their hands as a signal to match their objection.

“The only kind of drink you should be getting is a free one,” Kix stated.

“Exactly,” Echo nodded, setting his hand on the table as if that finalized the conversation.

You dropped your shoulders and took a long glance around the table, shocked they were all so opposed to the idea. When looking at Fives you saw him staring off in the distance towards the bar; you’d figured he’d seen a pretty girl and was distracted, but when you took a look in the same direction there wasn’t a girl in sight, just a clone in red and white armour, helmet still on, glaring back.

“Fives? You won’t let me pay either?”

“I don’t think you’ll have to,” Fives chuckled, turning back to the table, “Hound’s been staring at you since we came in.”

“You are not serious-” Echo crossed his arms, knowing all too well where Fives was going with the idea.

You laughed a little, shaking your head, catching on, “Fives, that only works in the movies, plus you’d need someone beautiful.”

“Now, wait a minute,” Kix places a hand on your shoulder.

“You underestimate yourself,” Echo finishes the sentence.

“Big time,” Fives adds, “besides I wasn’t going say anything,” Fives spreads his arms to gesture he had nothing in mind, “I would never- Echo, I can’t believe you thought I’d-”

“Guys, guys,” Kix says in a whisper, tilting his head toward the bar. Casually you look to find Hound headed towards you.

“Hey, you- you’re new here?” Hound asks, speaking to you as if the other three members of the 501st didn’t even exist.

“Oh, I don’t work here,” you smile, a little nervously, “I’m part of the clone army, I’m a nurse.”

“A nurse? Wow,” Hound leans down to get a little more on your level, “well, I’ve got a few wounds I know you could heal; whatdya say to checking them out, I’ve already checked you out.”

Pressing your lips together you restrain a laugh, squeezing your hands together. You felt a little sorry, knowing he was tipsy, but also at the fact that you weren’t interested in a stranger to you. The others kept a steady gaze on you, careful to watch for any signs of requesting help because at one hint they’d jump in, no hesitation.

“You could at least buy me a drink first, officer, or is it, commander?” You played along.

“Sergent, but I like where you’re head’s at,” Hound winked when a waiter droid passed,

“Why don’t you get three more,” you interjected and then had to think of a good cover, for a moment you reverted back to your normal self, but then found a good excuse and put on the flirty facade, “we can each have two and,” you placed a hand on his arm, “if we know each other well enough by then we’ll split the third.”

Hound had to pause, absolutely heart-eyed for your idea, “alright,” he proceeded to order three of what you had overheard the boys saying they liked and suggested. It was only after he’d exchanged the credits with the droid that you actually turned back to the table completely, looking around with a smile at the other three of the 501st.

“Now, Hound,” Fives suddenly jumps back in, “what would Fox say? Aren’t you supposed to be looking for the culprit who stole the Chancellor’s slippers?”

“It was his personal speeder, Fives,” Hound retorts, slightly agitated, “and you wouldn’t dare.”

Your stomach gets a little queasy, you didn’t want to see them get in a fight, but as you were opening your mouth, Fives raised his hand and began calling “Fox! We found your missing man!”

When you spun to see who he was talking to, you saw Fox, the Coruscant Guard’s Commander in the doorway; he was actually doing his job of investigating individuals outside the bar, whereas his subordinate had clearly failed the mission of avoiding actually entering the bar. Fox was clearly unhappy, going over to the bar to retrieve his soldier’s helmet before coming to collect Hound himself. Grabbing him by the arm and pulling him back out of the bar, Hound softly protests the whole way.

“I can’t believe I just did that,” you cover your face with your hands, blushing wildly and smiling, it was a little exciting you had to admit, “poor guy,” you lower your hands, “I hope he didn’t actually need those credits.”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure the Chancellor pays him handsomely,” Echo rolled his eyes.

When the droid returned, they carefully placed all the glasses around the table, including the fifth; you stared at the extra glass, imagining that it was for someone else.

“So, uh...,” you danced your fingers around the rim of your drink, fingertips barely touching the cool glass, “does…Rex,” lowering your head to avoid the inevitable blush being visible, “come with you guys here?”

After a pause, you looked up just to make sure they had heard you. What you found were Fives and Echo exchanging their signature glances, Kix hid his smile by taking a swig of his drink and looking elsewhere.

“Not usually, no,” Echo finally had the heart to tell you, his tone sounding like he knew it was going to be a letdown for you, so he wanted to deliver it gently, “he doesn’t get a whole lot of free time, being Captain.”

“Oh okay, right,” you nodded, partially understanding, partially let down; you were released he wasn’t here tonight, feeling so unlike yourself in your attire, but all the hopes of eventually coming back with him were dashed.

“We got him here once,” Fives adds, drawing your eyes back up from your not-so-interesting-anymore drink, “yeah, when was it Echo?”

“We still had to be rookies,” Echo laughed through a smile at the memory.

“Yeah,” Fives nodded in agreement, “you should have seen him,” he paused to take a drink himself, before leaning in towards you, you did the same, understanding that it was clearly a story to be kept under lock and key, “he actually asked a Twi’lek to dance, she turned him down flat though.”

Your smile faded, you were expecting a funny story where maybe Rex got tipsy or got in a fight, “oh,” you said under your breath.

“He never came back after that,” Fives shook his head, “she was pretty brutal, pretty sure he said it’d take a miracle to get him back here.”

“Turned out she just worked here, but not into clones, ironic eh?” Kix rolled his eyes with a shrug.

“Who is, really?” Echo added looking pretty dejected himself as he swirled the liquid in his glass, “we all look the same.”

“Blame Jango,” Fives almost laughed taking another drink.

“Well, I think you’re all very handsome,” you chime in, straightening yourself up a little as if ready to make a speech when all their attention came to you, “any individual would be lucky to call any one of you their partner; you’re handsome and brave, and sweet.”

They exchanged heartfelt smiles, “thanks, Angel,” Fives reached an arm around your shoulders bringing you close enough for him to place a kiss to your temple, “whoever gets you is going to be even luckier.”

You shake your head, smiling as you looked down.

“I don’t think there’s anyone worthy of her,” Kix said in all seriousness.

“It’s true, whoever gets you had better be a king,” Echo pointed in your direction nodding, trying to convince you that they were right.

“No,” you said softly, looking up, “I don’t think that’ll ever-”

“Troops,” a strong, familiar voice called gently, but firmly enough to grab your attention, from behind.

“Captain!” Fives, Echo, and Kix all came to casual attention, straightening themselves up.

You were still a bit behind with the routine and attention, only a few seconds behind them, you spun on your heel. Finding yourself in front of Rex, who for once was out of armour and in uniform just like the rest of them. Eyes wide and jaw nearly dropping you brought a hand up to salute him, even though the other hadn’t. Fives concealed a snicker behind your back and Echo elbowed him, pressing his lips together to hide his own laugh at how close to the books you were trying to be in conduct.

“Cap- captain,” you stuttered out of shock and surprise, back pressing into the edge of the standing table as you leaned back to give a little more space between the two of you.

Smiling, Rex looked beyond you to the others and then deliberately down at you when he said, “at ease.”

You did as he said, and clasped your hands in front of you, something you were certain you’d already picked up from Padmé, just with a little less confidence. When Rex joined the table, standing beside you, you too turned back to face everyone else.

“I thought you said you’d never- after-”

“It was time for some wounds to be healed,” Rex interrupted shooting a glance to Fives, who prompts remained quiet.

“It’s nice to have you here, Rex,” Echo raised his glass, “good thing we got an extra after all.”

“Yes, I hope I’m not stealing someone else’s,” Rex turned to you, figuring you might’ve met another clone and taken a fancy under the circumstance.

“N-no, no, it’s just- an extra,” you explained, blinking rapidly, almost as rapidly as your heart was beating.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Rex answered, wrapping his fingers around the glass, not breaking eye contact with you until he took a sip.

Dipping your head, you bit your bottom lip to avoid a smile spreading too obviously. Rex made casual conversation with his fellow clones, even a few who recognized him coming over for a quick catch up, some leaning just past him to try and get a glimpse of you. You weren’t certain if it was intentional or not, but you noticed Rex lean a little further onto his elbow, blocking you from the other clone’s view if they started to stare too long. After a while, Kix stated that he was going to turn in for the night, needing to report to the medical bay tomorrow. You gave him a quick hug and told him you’d see him there as well. Echo promptly ushered Fives to the bar, intentionally leaving you and Rex alone.

“You look nice, out of uniform,” you looked up at him, before realising your wording, stuttering, you tried to recover, “or no, is this in uniform? I mean out of armour, but in- so-”

“In uniform,” Rex nodded speaking through a chuckle at how desperately you were trying to make sure you didn’t misspeak; he wasn’t sure if he still intimidated you or if you were just intimidated by the fact that you were the only one who didn’t have proper soldier training. Rex never wanted you to feel out of place, in an attempt to put you at ease he continued, “besides I was advised to stay out of armour from a very reliable source, so here I am.”

You felt the back of his hand press against yours subtly, this time you got the chance to respond, pressing softly back against his, stretching your fingers out to touch his. Neither of you looked down but instead kept eye contact while your fingers teased at interlocking.

“Here you are,” you smiled, knowing the exact moment he was referring to.

“Right where I want to be,” Rex smiled back, closing his hand in yours.

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mairah-shaikh · 3 years

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Astrological observations [ Rising edition ]

{❇️} — Note !

These observations won't resonate with everyone. These are just my observations, don't take them too seriously.

[✳️] — I have observed that most of the time, people with Scorpio risings have small, cat-like eyes. Also, there are prominent dark circles around the eyes.

[✳️] — The eyes of people with Scorpio rising tend to look tired all the time. Because of that, they look like they are done with everyone's shit.

[✳️] — Scorpio risings or just water risings, in general, have naturally well-shaped eyebrows.

[✳️] — People with Pisces rising tend to have bushy eyebrows or just more fuller eyebrows.

[✳️] — Scorpio risings tend to dress up in a very edgy but elegant way if you know what I mean. Black and grey is their dress code. Blazers, leather jackets, lacy crop tops, ripped jeans, ankle-length boots, stockings, etc find their way in a Scorpio rising's closet.

[✳️] — Leo risings seem to not age. There is always a certain glow on their face that makes them appear so playful and child-like. They also have a very infectious, child-like laughter.

[✳️] — I will say this again and again, Gemini risings have the best fashion sense! Their fashion sense is different and unique, it's not for everyone.

[✳️] — Also, Gemini risings are very confident. I believe that their confidence is the most attractive thing about them. They unknowingly inspire others to become confident too. You will get a confidence boost by just looking at them.

[✳️] — Aquarius risings love to wear bold-colored outfits. They can rock the type of outfits, everyone will think 100 times before wearing.

[✳️] — Libra risings know what to say at what time. They will say everything will a calm and neutral expression. They know when to keep quiet and when to speak. These people rarely get into trouble because they know how to speak in public settings. Even if they are annoyed, they will still speak in the same calm tone.

[✳️] — Aries risings are quick to react to a situation on the other hand. This is what gets them in trouble most of the time.

[✳️] — I find that pisces risings seem to love floral patterned clothes. They love wearing clothes with neutral or pastel colours. Also they seem to like dressing up tomboyish. They will pair a lace crop top with some grey joggers and still make it work.

[✳️] — Water risings and air risings tend to dress according to their mood and the occasion. These people can rock every style of clothing.

[✳️] — Scorpio risings have a habit of smirking while talking. That's what makes them appear as over confident and egoistic to others. People actually just need a reason to hate on scorpio risings.

[✳️] — Scorpio risings are also very secretive of their private life, they never open up to anyone about their personal life, that includes their friends too. That's why many people assume that their life is perfect and start envying them. If only they knew…

[✳️] — Something about Taurus risings makes me think of freckles and moles.

[✳️] — Taurus risings tend to have a really soft skin. Like how do I explain this? Their skin looks really healthy and soft and glowy. They of course take good care of their skin.

[✳️] — Taurus risings are usually quite tall and have prominent shoulders.

[✳️] — Cancer risings a lot of times, get mistaken for virgo risings. Because of the way they speak and present themselves.

[✳️] — Capricorn risings usually are very skinny or have a really petite frame.

[✳️] — Capricorn risings also have pouty lips. Their lips are one of the most attractive features.

[✳️] — Capricorn risings can go months without being active on social media. It's not important for them.

[✳️] — Pisces risings have a very alluring voice. I am not kidding, their voice can be really soothing.

[✳️] — Gemini risings on the other hand, seem to have a very seductive voice. Especially the females. They have a voice that is easily recognizable.

[✳️] — Cancer risings age like a fine wine.

[✳️] — Gemini risings maybe going through a really shitty phase in their life but their social media always has such happy and good vibes thingy going on.

[✳️] — Gemini risings also tend to see social media as an escape from the shitty reality.

[✳️] — Also Gemini risings can never have only one social media account. They are managing two or three or even more accounts at once.

[✳️] — Scorpio risings are the ones always deleting their social media accounts to start a new one.

[✳️] — Aquarius risings are the ones always doing some legendary shit. I love you all for that.

[✳️] — I must say, pisces risings aren't the most active ones on social media too.

[✳️] — Capricorn risings also have that kind of tired eyes that scorpio risings have. They also have huge dark circles around their eyes.

[✳️] — Scorpio risings don't like when people talk over them. When they are speaking, no one should interrupt them. And they kinda have this power that whenever they speak, everyone becomes silent.

[✳️] — Scorpio risings can get irked easily. This is especially when people use a wrong tone while talking to them. They might not outright display their annoyance but you can see the way they frown when someone does that.

[✳️] — Libra risings are really good at lying. I don't mean this in a malicious way. But people can have a hard time figuring out if these people are lying or not. They are very convincing.

[✳️] — I don't mean this in a bad way but Libra risings can really come off a certain way when they are completely different from it. They most of the time don't realise this.

[✳️] — I believe Libra risings have the most attractive and beautiful smiles. Their smile is their most attractive feature.

[✳️] — Virgo risings usually prefer working behind the scenes. They are the ones managing everything from the back. They are good at it and they mostly stick to it. They also like working alone, where there's no one to disturb them. But if they had to work in a group setting then they would prefer to plan all the things alone and would then give instructions to others.

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grievedeeply · 2 years

Note

It’s so good to find another person who adores Michael Afton! Can I request an angst one shot? Basically what if the reader (who is mikes lover) went missing one day? Years later mike found out they were clapped by Springtrap for basically prying to deep into some secrets? If not that’s okay! Have a wonderful day/night and remember to drink water and eat something!

i really love this idea so i hope i did it justice! thank you for requesting and sorry it took so long even though it's relatively short!

gn!reader

tws: murder, main character death, death in general, blood, elaboration on past trauma (mike's), let me know if i missed anything else

the sins of the father — michael afton

you were so close. so close to something. all of this was laid out so perfectly in front of you. the murders and disappearances of these kids, all originating from freddy fazbears. you thought it was strange, kids going missing in a place meant for fun and memories, but the world was strange. the world was cruel and it was unfair.

you knew you were young, but something was going on here and you'd be a fool to believe anything otherwise. you would feel guilty if you stood around did nothing.

so here you were, standing in the backrooms of freddy's your eyebrows furrowed as you stared at the walls around you. some covered in blood, others somehow spotless. you knew it. there was something more here.

a shiver went up your spine. you would get caught, eventually. if you dug into this too deep, you knew you would be hurt somehow. you turned on your heel, finally feeling like you had enough evidence for one day, and you were eye to chest with someone.

you took a step back.

michael's dad? it wasn't unusual for him to be back here, so you gave him a polite smile and intended to move around him to make your exit, until he stepped in front of you again. "what do you know?" his smooth english accent echoed in the room around you, and your eyes met his. "what?" you replied, pretending to be confused.

your heart tightened in your chest. you liked michael's dad. he seemed to like you, too. always treating you with kindness whenever he came upon you. he was shocked to hear his son had a partner, but that quickly blew past as he talked to you.

he was a murderer?

"mr. afton.. ?" your voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. "you know too much, y/n." he lifted one hand to his forehead, as he walked to the axe in the corner of the room. "what are you talking ab-"

he had a weapon. he was the murderer. "please, mr. afton. i won't tell anyone. please." you pleaded, but all he did was shake his head. "you and i both know you're too good to let me walk free."

he took another step towards you, your back now against the wall. he took the axe and lifted it above his head. your eyes met his steel grey ones. it was the last thing you saw.

michael was a fool. he knew his father was a horrible man, from his abuse as a child to the deaths of his siblings, nothing surprised him anymore.

but as he stared at the picture of you in his wallet, he shook his head. he wouldn't. he knew you went missing when you were teenagers, back when he was easily fooled by his father's smooth talking. he falsified sympathy. but he was the one who murdered you. in cold blood, because you knew.

he forgot how your voice sounded like. all he remembered was how beautiful it was. how soothing it was. how kind your words were. you calmed him so easily. your smooth skin against his own, your hand in his. your arms wrapped around his neck and his body against yours in the most comforting hugs he'd ever received.

he would never have anything else like you.

how could he let this happen? he should've known better than to let you dig into those murders. it wasn't your place. it was dangerous and michael knew it, but he didn't convince you to stay with him. even if he tried, you were too stubborn. too determined to do good.

the realization that you were killed by his dad gave him more reason to get rid of him. to avenge those kids. to let them rest. to let you rest. he had no idea how many more he had killed, but just thinking about it led him into a spiral.

his siblings. their deaths both stemmed from the creation of those stupid animatronics. he thought about you again. how you brushed and braided elizabeth's hair. how you did her makeup whenever she asked you to. how you played with evan. how you made him feel safe and comforted.

he missed you so much.

he was older now, but he never fell in love after you. in the weeks of your disappearance, he didn't leave his room once. he barely ate, and only did when he saw the look on elizabeth's face.

her face was pink, tear stained and swollen. your disappearance didn't just affect him. he brought her into his arms and buried his face into her hair. still braided hair. it was so tangled and messy, but it was the last time you would ever be able to braid her hair.

you were gone and you weren't coming back. michael held her at arms length, giving her a sad smile. "what happened to them?" her voice asked. so sweet, so innocent. "i don't know, lizzie." was all he could say in response.

he continued to live for you, knowing that it's what you would've wanted. you would've wanted him to love someone else as much as he loved you. but he couldn't. he couldn't think of anyone else how he thought of you.

if he ever thought someone else was attractive, guilt sank into his chest and he pictured your face. your fading face. all he had left of you was a low quality picture, crinkled and crumpled from being in his wallet all the time. but you were happy. you were laughing.

his life was so empty without you in it. he didn't know what to do with himself. and then his siblings died. the siblings he should've protected. he let out a breath, not even noticing the tears forming in his eyes as he looked at you in the picture.

he wanted you to be next to him. he wanted to be able to kiss you again, to hold you in his arms and apologize for not being there to save you. thinking about how you probably died, your last sight being his father's cold, dead grey eyes made his heart sink.

you deserved to live a long life. a long life with him.

wracked with guilt, michael sat on the couch and put his head between his hands.

there was so much he wanted to do with you. he never thought of the idea of marriage until after you died. his parents marriage was unhealthy and toxic, but he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. he didn't realize it until it was too late.

you would've been a great parent. he could picture you with kids. you chastising him for doing something wrong. he wanted it. he wanted it all so badly but it was all out of his reach.

all because of him.

he laid down on the couch, the picture of you still the only thing he cared enough to look at. "i love you, y/n." he muttered to the air.

hoping that, wherever you were, you could hear him.

#fnaf x reader #fnaf #five nights at freddy's x reader #five nights at freddy's #michael afton x reader #michael afton #fnaf imagines #fnaf imagine #fnaf oneshot #fnaf headcanons #william afton

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vgilantee · 3 years

Text

sick fic {simon kalivoda}

requested by anon

word count: 1.1k

a/n: soft n sleepy n sick. that's the vibe for this one. on the shorter side but it is what it is. also i use the word goosebumps because that's what i've always called them and only just realised that it works as a good nod to r. l. stein. what with him being the author of both the fear street and the goosebumps novel series' lmao

warnings: n/a

pronouns: [none used]

The doctor had confirmed that you didn’t have the flu, but for some reason, your body had decided that your cold would kick you on your ass. You were sneezing, coughing, and suffering from a killer headache. And despite your many protests, Simon was with you every day. He had somehow convinced your parents that he could stay with you until you were better, citing that if he were to go home and then realise he was sick, he could get his family sick too, but if he stayed with you, then it wouldn’t matter that much, if he fell ill.

It was a bullshit reason, you and your parents knew, but they let him stay, take care of you so that they didn’t have to. The only times he wasn’t with you were when he was at work or at school - which he generally left halfway through the day anyway. He brought you warm drinks, food, and generally kept you company while you suffered through the snot and sore throat.

Your bedroom door swung open and hit the wall with a bang, and jolted you awake. Stood in the doorway, sheepish when he noticed that he woke you, was Simon, with a plastic bag balanced on his hand, while the other was hovering above the door from when he pushed it open.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.” He moved forward as he spoke, and you slowly slid up to sit in your bed. “Thought you were already awake.” You let out a soft groan that turned into a coughing fit. Hastily, Simon put the bag on your bedside table and grabbed the glass of water that had been sitting there since he got it for you the night before. His other hand rubbed small circles on your back as the coughs finally subsided. Gratefully, you took the glass and took small sips, the cool water soothing your inflamed throat.

“Thank you.” Simon gave you a sympathetic look as you croaked out your thanks, and you cringed slightly at the scratching feeling. “How was work today?”

Simon all but pushed you over as he slid himself into the covers beside you, taking the cup back from you and placing it back on the bedside table. He grabbed the bag off the bedside table and pulled out a white plastic bowl and two spoons.

“Same old, same old.” He cracked open the lid and through your mostly-blocked nose, you caught the briefest whiff of chicken. “Much rather have spent my day with you though.” You let out a noise that was almost a snorted laugh, if not for the cold.

“You’d rather spend your day with me, the sick and dying, rather than work? Where you have what, seven ‘employee of the month’s under your belt?” Simon laughed as he handed you a spoon and a fork, and you finally looked to see what was in the bowl; cheap chicken ramen. You carefully scooped up some noodles on your fork, using the spoon to stop some of the broth from dripping onto your covers.

“Screw employee of the month.” He watched you with slightly concealed amusement. “I’d rather spend every day for the rest of ever with you. Sick and dying, or not.” With a noodle sticking out of your mouth slightly, you look up at him from your hunched over position and your heart softens. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t imagined a life where you grow old with Simon. One where maybe you escape Shadyside, or maybe you don’t. A life where you get to wake up to him every day, and come home to his smile, and his laugh. But the fact that maybe Simon had too made you melt.

“You would wanna spend the rest of ever with me?” Your voice was small, unsure about whether he meant it or not, but holding onto the hope that he had. Simon blinks at your question.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?” He seemed genuinely surprised that you would even entertain the idea that he wouldn’t. Spending the rest of his life with you was something that Simon thought about often, almost every time he looked at you, really.

“Oh.” The word was barely audible as you stared at him. The very soft moment was interrupted as a heavy cough forced its way out of you, and you had to quickly drop your face into the crook of your elbow. You let out another groan and turned to be greeted with a spoon generously full of broth. You opened your mouth, feeling a little sorry for yourself, and Simon carefully slides the spoon into your mouth.

He placed a kiss on the crown of your head as you leaned into his shoulder. He shifted his head so that his cheek stayed pressed to the top of your head, and slowly moved the ramen to your bedside table, careful not to spill any from the open container. Shuffling you carefully, Simon moved so that he was laying in your bed completely, with you curled into his side, head on his shoulder. Even though you had just woken up, the warmth of Simon and his arms wrapped securely around you had your eyes growing heavy again.

“I love you.” You whispered the words against his jawline, before placing a kiss there. He smiled, letting out a soft hum. You reached your hand up to trace your fingers over his cheek and jaw on the opposite side to you. Your fingers ran over the gentle smile lines that formed with his content expression, over his lips that were chapped from his bad habit of biting them. Your fingers ran over his jaw, feeling the slight prickling of the stubble that grew over the past couple of days between shaves. You slid your hand down his jaw and neck, before stopping comfortably on his chest, the rhythm of his heartbeat under your fingers. Simon’s hand that was just resting lazily on your hip, gently moved to run his fingers up and down your side and back, raising slight goosebumps at the soft gesture.

“I love you too.” He shifted again, pulling you as close to him as he could, before he let out a yawn, and let his eyes close. You left your hand on his chest, watching him with hooded eyes, as his breathing evens out, slowing. You pressed another kiss to his jaw before falling back to sleep.

~~~

{let me know what you thought! reblogs are greatly appreciated!!}

#simon kalivoda x reader #fear street simon x reader #fear street simon kalivoda x reader #fear street x reader #char writes

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sprinklesandshatters · 3 years

Text

A Review on NCT 127′s 3rd Album <Sticker>

So NCT 127 just came back with their 3rd Full Album <Sticker> and this is my first 127 comeback since I became a fan last year! Neozone is such a special album for me as it was their first album that I explored entirely. I've known NCT as the group who never fails any expectations so I've kept mine up although I know they'll exceed it anyway. And guess what, they did! I absolutely love their new album hence this review~

This isn't a technical music review—as I am not a musician myself—but rather a listener's honest takes, goofy notes, and interpretation on each of the tracks in the album. I admit I've also struggled to build my own opinions on some of the tracks until I listened to them over and over again.

I have also heard there are mixed opinions on the title track <Sticker> and a lot says it's another acquired taste. But I think it's not just that, as it can be a grower, just like how most of NCT's songs were for me. Maybe after a few listens and a right passage of time, it will grow on those people. The bottom line here is, I like it a lot! 😛

So I listed down the songs according to their respective track numbers and followed each with a bulleted list of my opinions and interpretations.

(Viewer/reader discretion: before you continue, minors, do not interact as there are few 18+ contents under the cut. Thank you.)

1. Sticker

THEY DIDN'T JUST PUNCH A NEW NOTCH ON THE BELT LIKE THAT

THIS SONG SLAPS, LITERALLY SLAPS… AND WHIPS

The recorder at the intro boyyyy I thought something was wrong but then I remember it’s NCT lmao

It already stuck in my head from my first listen from the Instagram audio.

With Taeyong opening the verse with his divine rapping, I knew I'm in for a new ride.

STICK-UH STICK-UGH STICK-UGHGHGH

To those complaining it sounding like noise music, imagine it sounding generic. I don't think it would fit as the title track. Not a b-track or in their repertoire, even. They are called NCT because they define the NEO in the music culture and music technology!

It honestly was an unorthodox, just like all of their title tracks, which I’m inherently here for.

Literally, no one does it like them!

The growls and the vocal flexes and adlibs! (You can tell it has Yoo Youngjin's brand.)

The crisp metronome sound that’s consistently ticking except for the pre-chorus and the dance break adds depth to the soundscape. I love how it’s used instead of the usual snaps.

The production quality blew my mind. Like how can someone think those melodies would sound so exquisite? CAN I CALL THEM GENIUS?

The piano at the back, oh my God—Yes! It adds this mystifying element to the song.

I'm not sure if it's a midi violin at the pre-chorus, but it added thrill to the song. It was a great transition from the bass line in the verses to the combination of the flawless harmony with the same instrumental.

"You treat me like a boy, like a grown-up child chasing a dream" JUNGWOO BABY NO MORE HUH

Taeil, Doyoung, and Haechan—the bridge vocal trinity!

But why the heck are they cowboys? I dig the concept, but why? LMAO

BTW GUNSLINGER MARK I’M ON MY KNEES YEEHAW

This is easily one of my favorite tracks from NCT 127's entire discography 💚

2. Lemonade

(⌐■_■)

Jaehyun starting off this song with his deep voice eee

The song opens to a verse oozing with chill confidence. They're like, yeah you're lurking because we’re cool.

This is such a huge slap to their haters. NCT's not chillin' like a villain, nah they're the main characters!

Well maybe they’re villains, but still ya not cooler than them ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Funny enough how they could have just referred haters as simply lemons whose sour/bitter to the taste, but 127 squad's success is sweeter than all the haters' spiteful remarks so yeah, SIPPY SIPPY LEMONADE 🧃

"WOOF"

I might have just barked too wOW

Yuta’s vocals hooooO his voice just sounds so glamorous mhmm

Also Mark referencing their previous title tracks such as: Firetruck, Cherry Bomb, and Regular (it's Irregular in the lyrics) in his rap part 👌💅

I just love Mark's energy when he raps. HE RESOLUTELY BITES AND STRAIGHT UP EATS EVERY TIME HE DOES.

3. Breakfast

Now breakfast time, oh jeez!

AAAHAHFU—

Summer 127's bestie!

If Summer 127 talks about dancing all night long, Breakfast is the morning after.

You know what it is.

"Even if I gulp and drink you, it's not enough for me." oho Taeyong no you ha—STOP

Sexual innuendos aside, isn't it just sweet if someone tells you they'd want to have breakfast with you every day? Okay maybe I'm melting at the thought 😩🙈💞

And I can see myself dancing to this song as I make breakfast (in the afternoon or at midnight bc I’m crazy)

This was an okay b-track for me at the first skim on the album, but boy it grew on me wildly.

Honestly one of my favorite tracks in this album.

4. Focus

Did I just invade a private call? LMAO

The analog voice filters make it like so.

Dude, this feels intimate in the level of eavesdropping a phone call between seasoned lovers. Then you realize you hear them whispering their kinks over the line and you're ooh, that's sexy! hfgklhfhf

My first listen to this, I almost went feral because,

"I can't wait to eat you…" when it's actually "I can't wait 'til we chill…" aahaha

"Baby call me when you want me." OKAY!

This sounds relaxing and chill. I'd love to play this on a late night drive or just before bed time along with Fly Away With Me, Sun & Moon, My Youth, and Long Flight.

Belongs to ‘make out session’ playlist ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

That was lowkey a playlist recommendation, huh?

I'd be kidding if I don't say I could touch myself while listening to this song AHAHAFGHFJFJ

I didn't know this would grow on me this much lol I love love LOVE THIS!

5. The Rainy Night

Ooh, the holy melancholy!

Piano at the intro—I knew I'd cry to this.

This song isn't just about break-up, but the heartbreak after one.

The yearning; the remnant pieces from the shattering of what was once there.

I think I crumbled from this one.

This hit so hard I felt like I fit in the shoes with the lyrics throughout the entire song.

What’s fascinating is I clearly forgot the title when I mentally said this sounds like a sad rainy day song from the first listen.

Something I’d turn up when it suddenly rains, just because I want to feel the blues.

Taeil and Haechan singing in lower register? I wanna cry :( they’re just one of the best vocalists in K-music industry right now.

Could have been also nice if they added Yuta to the vocals.

"My selfish heart who waits for you to come back," OKAY WHO HURT THEM?

And the fact that they sang it so good that it translated every ounce of the emotions well even before I looked up for English translations is the reason why I love this song too.

6. Far

Hmm… What the hell?! Do I like this? Wait...

Alright!

The jumpy vibe from the first verse to the pre-chorus set the mood for this song. It sounds merry and heavy. It was honestly too much to take until I’ve reached the chorus part.

Honestly, I think this song could fit NCT Dream better, as it gives off a vibe similar to Hello Future's b-tracks. If some credible source say this could have made HF’s track list, I might believe you too fast.

Also Dream’s Deja Vu where they go na nananananana na na na~

Playful yet confident! That’s what I mean!

As usual, the vocals are insane! Vocal flex from left to right!

I swear Jungwoo sounded a bit like Taemin at the second verse that I had to replay it hahaha

I love hearing Johnny as a vocalist! SM, how many signs do you need until you utilize his vocal talent???

Taeil's part where he sings, "go nuts, go nuts, 'til we go bust, go bust" IDEK BUT I SNORTED A LAUGH AT FIRST LISTEN HFCAHKFHK

Not my favorite, but still great though!

But wait it’s actually stuck in my head???

7. Bring The Noize

Yes, they never beat those noise music allegations

HERE'S SOME NOIZE, BITCHES

I love me some noisy percussions. AND THE BASS YO

This screams so much confidence!

The build up from the pre-chorus to the chorus—FIRE!

This song reminds me a lot of SuperM's Super Car, especially with the engine roar samples and the battle cry-like singing at the chorus.

JAEHYUN RAPPING? You mean Jaehyun the visual, the vocalist, the actor, the model, the funny dude, aka my everything?! (markie bb look pls look away for a moment)

THEY DELIVERED IT STRAIGHT FROM NEOCITY THAT'S SOME NCT MUSIC RIGHT THERE NO ONE DOES IT LIKE THEM

When I said I'd play Focus on a late night drive, and if I add this in the playlist, VROOM VROOM SPEED LIMIT WHAT

OUTTA MY WAY

“We got no shame” ouh TAEYONG’S FLOW IS JUST VERY HIM AND HE’S IN A LEAGUE OF HIS OWN

You know what's so clever about this song? It's how it ended with Mark's final rap without any instrumental, leaving you standing there with a doppler effect-like post experience.

A super car on a super speed just whooshed past you and you look its way as it zips through the road. It's gone in an instant but you're floored dumbfounded at a sidewalk. That's how I describe this song.

8. Magic Carpet Ride

This song… Wow. Oh gosh it's so beautiful.

Their harmony in the chorus—it makes me want to kiss someone so passionately that I'd cry.

This makes me want to feel love that transcends the universe. Literally, just please take me on a magic carpet ride :(

The background harmonies too oh my goodness—HEAVENLY.

Jaehyun's voice is so warm and soulful it fits perfectly with songs of this genre.

Okay alright Doyoung Grande!

And Taeil makes me feel like I'm listening to old school R&B.

The first time I heard this from the track video, I can't stop replaying because it's just that great.

This makes me want to love. I think that sums it up.

9. Road Trip

This is such a soothing song for me, especially how I easily become nostalgic thinking about the road trips I've had.

Whenever I listen to this, my brain immediately conjures up thoughts of my ideal getaways. Gazing at the sky through the car window, stirring up from a nap in the middle of the ride, and eventually reaching your destination.

Oh, to travel around anywhere... (curse you covid-19)

Okay that's it. I'M PACKING UP.

But where do I go—

I could also imagine Mark playing this on the guitar and the other members sing along together, something like that.

Just Wholesome™ vibes.

I love how it evokes such a nice emotion within me effortlessly.

This isn't my favorite, but I still love this.

10. Dreamer

Eyyyy such a refreshing song!

This song is so bright it makes me want to dance. I play this first in the shower!

It reminds me so much of Elevator (from Neozone)

The horns make it more lively I think!

Yuta and Jungwoo's voice suits lively songs like this.

The background vocal in low register in Taeyong's part in the first verse is so good ahhfhf

Taeil, the R&B vocal king you are...

There's this part where Doyoung and Johnny harmonized, that at first listen they seemed to clash, but it sounded actually fine after a few listens. Maybe it's just that I've never heard them do it before.

And I think it's Doyoung's laugh at the end of the bridge? Oh my goodness I really love this too!

11. Promise You

MY FIRST LOVE AND MOST FAVORITE SONG IN THE ALBUM!!!

The first time I heard this from their NCIT Sharehouse Sitcom, I fell in love with the song already.

It sounds like something you'd feel from a warm, welcoming hug.

The lyrics are so beautiful and endearing. It's definitely a be-there-for-you type of song that will touch your heart.

It definitely sounds like a promise.

A song about platonic intimacy.

This really fits to be the closing song of the album. It's like the end of it but holds a promise that says “see you soon.”

Because they cherish their fans like that.

It's also like I've watched a movie with a happy ending, where the camera pans up to the clear sky and this song starts playing.

Speaking of ending, I would love to hear them sing this as an encore stage in their concert. You know, that moment just before the stage lights die down at the end of the concert where they send final blows of flying kisses to NCTzens. Then you come home smiling and crying.

This wasn't supposed to be this long since I originally planned to write this with just simple phrases and emojis but I got too engrossed lol. I also meant to include my own ratings but I figured it’s pointless since I can’t really decide about them hahaha

I really enjoyed the whole album and I love how they're progressively defining what NEO means by breaking through standards. It's not NCT music if it doesn't make you say "WHAT THE HECK WAS THAT?" But then you realize it’s stuck in your head and you’re enjoying it already.

✨ OVERALL RATING: 127/10 💚

if you’ve reached until here, thank you for letting me share you a braincell or two 💞

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flowerwrites06 · 3 years

Text

break my mind’s eye special — jjk

Plot: Jungkook thinks marriage is the only way to seal a deal.

Pairing(s): Druglord!Jungkook x Fashion Designer!OC (Name: Belle)

Rating: G | PG | M | R 18+

Type: Drabble | Oneshot | Two Parter | Series

Word Count: 7k+

Genre: Mafia | Angst/Smut/Fluff

Tags & Warnings (for entire series): drug dealing, marriage through trickery, explicit smut, drug use, dubious consent, prostitution, miscarriage, lots of manipulation, impregnation through manipulation

Walking through the dark halls of permanently stained apartment building, Jungkook finally stood in front of a familiar number written on the text. He rapped at the wooden door a few times hearing a couple of grunts and rummaging from the other side. He sighed. “It’s me, Hoseok, you don’t have to hide the weed.”

“ Oh! ”

A few locks clicked here and there before the door swung open to welcome a light air of smoke mixed with the stench alone that could make Jungkook high. Hoseok gave him a loose smile, holding onto his arm as a wide grin spread across his lips. “You finally made it!”

Jungkook hummed trying not to grimace too much at the smell as the older male closed the door behind them.

“Come on, tell me…” Hoseok patted his back, prancing towards the couch where the coffee table was exuding smoke.

The apartment was miniscule with one bedroom door open on the left and a tiny kitchen on the right with a window next to the fridge. Another one near the dining table. Walls were a gross green tint and the floors a dull brown with black velvet couches that were ripped a little at the edges. But Jungkook could not complain.

“Tell you what?” The younger male dropped his bag on the floor and sat on the couch next to him, burying his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.

Hoseok picked his joint back up and hovered it near his lips. “What was prison like?” He sucked in his cheeks causing the ambers to light up at the end before he blew the thick smoke away from Jungkook.

“Like living with a bunch of criminals. What else?”

“So just like old times then.” Hoseok smirked.

Jungkook glanced at the male for a moment before scoffing out a chuckle. “Yeah…pretty much.” Except there was one difference. Every time he pranced with criminals like himself in the past, he was a leader. In prison, he was young, fresh meat. Before he would also come back home to a warm embrace in bed instead of a steel bed alone with a stinky roommate.

“Well it’s all over now.” He blew out another puff of smoke, shifting to rest his head back against the couch. “You can start doing something else with your life. Something different. Not a lot of people like us get that chance.”

For the first time, he noticed a slight sadness in Hoseok’s tone despite being pumped with artificial endorphins.

His eyes flickered down to the coffee table, noticing the burger wrappers and scattered newspapers. One of them immediately caught his eye. Jungkook sat up again, pulling one of them out of the pile, the right corner of his lips twitched seeing the familiar face.

‘ FAMED DESIGNER KIM BELLE RULES TOKYO FASHION WEEK ’

A side by side picture of a model wearing violet and gold ensemble which almost resembled the traditional kimono with a modern, royal twist. The picture on the right showed her. Belle wearing a simple black dress with her gorgeous waves out and a gracious smile spread across her lips.

‘ Twenty seven year old fashion designer Kim Belle takes all the popularity and buzz with her winter designs for Tokyo Fashion Week. Showing her long love for traditional Japanese fashion culture along with an inspiring movement for domestic violence and trafficking victims by showcasing broken chains and kimono style gowns. An elegant mix of grace and fight for personal freedom. Truly an impressive successor to the legend that was Madame Saito and we are definitely going to keep an eye out for more of her daring projects. ’

“She made a big damn name of herself.” Hoseok broke through the thick coat of silence Jungkook had around him.

“She deserves it.” More than I ever did.

The older male searched his expression for a moment, scoffing a little. “Dude, I have to ask.”

Jungkook met his gaze as he leaned back onto the couch again with the newspaper still in his hands. “What?”

“Why her?”

His brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you—literally could’ve had anyone in the entire country to pose as your fake wife or whatever. But you chose a fashion designer who barely knew anything about you to begin with…” Hoseok shook his head with a light wince. “What was your angle?” Some part of him did not want to believe Jungkook simply blackmailed someone for his own amusement because he knew the man was better than that.

Jungkook wished he had a decent reason to blurt out to him. Maybe he was just inherently evil and wanted to hurt Belle for his own pleasure. Maybe he wanted to fuck her one time just for kicks before dragging her out a little further until it was too much. Maybe he was just sick in the head, wanting to claim a girl who could not say a word against him because her and her brother’s life were wrapped around his finger. Except none of them felt like the truth. “I honestly thought she’d say no.”

“Oh fuck off—”

“Seriously I…” He shrugged a little. “I really thought she was going to punch me and storm out of there with her brother.”

“But the guards wouldn’t let her. I mean—no offense, buddy but you would’ve probably killed her. Knowing you from back then.” Hoseok scrunched his nose lightly.

“She did something ten times more dangerous though.” Jungkook couldn’t resist the jolt of pride bursting in him. “I destroyed her—so she waited until she destroyed me.”

Hoseok chortled a little, voice incredibly raspy. “I wouldn’t call going to jail for your crimes destroying you but sure…”

Jungkook shared a small laugh, nodding as he looked at her picture again. He could almost still feel her soft skin underneath his palm. How her hair smelled when he would hug her from behind as they slept, the way it soothed him to a calmer sleep.

“It’s a thing of the past though…” He tilted his head as his expression turned a little more serious. “…right? No more pulling her into shit she doesn’t deserve?”

“Yeah—yeah, of course.”

“Good…cause Belle’s the star of the city now. One wrong move towards her, you’re back in jail or worse.” Hoseok raised his brow a little making sure there was not a hint of determination on that young face of doing anything stupid. “You don’t have guards or power by your side and Taehyung isn’t addicted anymore. Has a wife and kid…he’s got the dad anger. So he will beat the living shit out of you if you give him the motivation.”

“I know, Hobi.” Jungkook chuckled, patting his thigh gently. “I don’t want her to go through it again either.”

Hoseok hummed a little taking another waft from his joint as he looked out the window, the sky tinted purple. “Alright. I’m gonna go and eat my girlfriend out.” He patted his shoulder, walking up to his bedroom.

“You had to look at the time for that?” Jungkook winced despite the grin on his face.

“Brother, when you’re together for this long, things need schedules.” He walked out of the bedroom with a black duffel bag putting out the joint onto the ashtray. “Food’s in the fridge and there’s Netflix open on the laptop.”

Jungkook waved him off before the door clicked close leaving him in his thoughts. For some reason, all he could do was look back at the newspaper and try to salvage that warm feeling again. The feeling of a true home that could never be.

Purple faded into a deep blue across the skies as Jungkook paced around the apartment in his bare torso, scattered with more imperfect tattoos. One cellmate liked doing tattoos because it calmed him down so the younger male did not hesitate much to let him use his skin. He was a nice man who had been thrown in jail for being a drug mule all his life and Jungkook could not help but have a nauseating guilt in his stomach.

Drug mules were essentially trafficked human slaves from Jungkooks’ experience. Their owners use their lives and bodies to transport goods without being detected and usually they start off terrifyingly young or desperate or both. All this service was done for almost little to no money. They were more abused victims than criminals but the legal system were not good at telling the difference sometimes.

Jungkook allowed his body to be used as if giving himself some kind of cathartic relief allowing the broken soul to control something else for a while instead of being controlled. Thus his skin now littered with designs of devil horns, tiger flowers and his own personal request was a tiny print font ‘B’ on his collarbone. No one could truly see it up close but he wanted to feel it there.

Chugging a generous sip from his beer bottle, he quietly observed the night sky glimmering with stars while the city shone in neon. The one thing his mansion lacked was the clear view of how alive everything looked at night.

A knock sounded on the door causing his head to shoot to the side.

Hoseok should not have been home at this hour. Even if he was, the man would not knock in his own apartment.

Jungkook opened the kitchen drawer and brandished a knife before making his way over to the door. Another knock sounded again. It was a gentle knock. Almost shy. But he knew better than soften up so easily. Carefully, he peeked through the peephole trying not to make too much of a sound even though the wooden floors creaked far too much.

His heart jumped right up to his throat seeing the familiar face on the other side. Jungkook almost dropped the knife on the floor trying to focus as best as he could. Was he drunk already? Was he dreaming? Gulping down, he placed the knife on the side table along with the beer bottle and opened the door.

When the view became clear to him, Jungkook let out a sharp breath. “Belle.”

Her hair was shorter up to her shoulders compared to the length in the newspaper picture except she still always kept her natural waves. Eyes a little glazed while her flushed lips spread into a weak smile before pressing them together again. “I-I don’t–I don’t know why I’m here.” Belle’s furrowed her brows a little.

“It’s okay.” He whispered. “Come in.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course.” Jungkook smiled even though a small tinge of sadness shone in his eyes.

He opened the door further for her to enter before closing it behind him. Eyes flickered down to her grey sweatpants and frilly white socks paired with a thick sweater like she just woke up from a nap.

Belle kept her back to him for a few minutes, pretending to observe the apartment even though she was really just trying to figure out why she was here. Questions muddled her mind over and over again. Any valid or logical answer. There was nothing. No reason to be standing here when she tried so hard to walk away from him. She did everything to get away. Now she walked right back without any coercion.

Jungkook tilted his head attempting to meet her gaze but decided not to force it too much. “You cut your hair.” A smile twitched on his lips. “It looks nice.”

She absentmindedly touched her waves, breathing out a small chuckle. “Thank you.”

“Uh—how did you know I was here?”

“Namjoon helped me track you down.” Belle mumbled, guilt pooling in the pit of her belly going behind Yoongi’s back like this. She still remembered what Namjoon said when he gave her the address.

‘I’m only giving you this because I know you’re tough as nails…no matter what people say to you…but the second anything goes wrong, you call me.’ Namjoon had become a close friend in the last few years. He had been escorting her back and forth from home to work.

Yoongi had been disallowed to see her after being undercover so he could get a proper therapy before doing field work again. So Namjoon seemed the next obvious choice to take care of her.

Finally Belle turned around to face him, eyes raking down his torso and seeing new designs etched on his skin. Not as precise as the phoenix but still beautiful. “The tattoos look good.”

Jungkook glanced down at his torso with a soft grin. “A friend did them for me.” He met her gaze again even though she quickly averted it, plunging silence back into the room as they waited for it to be filled. “Belle…why are you here?”

Her body deflated as the question lingered in the air, lump growing in her throat while her knees kept trembling. “I—” Belle closed her eyes. “I mis—I missed you.” She smiled sadly before trailing her glossy gaze away again. “It sounds stupid when I say after so long.” Her voice kept getting constricted from the lump, tears filling at the brim of her eyes. “But I still think about you…I still kept that—stupid letter after all these years.”

A familiar warmth seeped through his veins knowing she missed him but it still mixed with dread and guilt. Jungkook scarred her memories forever with his presence and she was so confused on what it meant. He could see the way she shifted and looked away as if trying to push reality away but face it all the same. “I hurt you a lot. I’m so sorry—if I—if I could do it all over again, I’d do it better.”

“How could it have been better?” Belle shook her head. “We met when my brother owed you a debt.”

Jungkook raised his shoulders. “Maybe we’d have met at your boutique.” He attempted to smile a little at the thought of just walking into that boutique and falling in love the normal way. The happy way. “I’d have flirted with you a lot and you’d roll your eyes at me. We’d travel together to Paris or Tokyo, explore the things we love and eat ice-cream until our stomachs ached.” A tiny chuckle passed through his lips.

Belle had to suck in her trembling bottom lip as tears began escaping down her cheeks. “And?”

“We’d get married…properly. Away from my family, we’d relax somewhere at a beach.” The visions in his mind played without any effort causing his eyes to flood knowing it was all an impossible dream now. “We’d have children…we’d love them so much, Belle—”

She couldn’t hold in the sobs that shook through her body. At the very mention of children, Belle felt a tingle under the skin of her belly, memories of the aches still lingering. “Why didn’t you just take the money?”

“What?” He whispered.

“Why didn’t you just take the money? And don’t tell me it was because of business or keeping up appearances. Why? Why me?”

The ever burning question. Even the interrogators asked them the question. What was the motive to taking in Miss Kim? A lot of people owed you debts. Jungkook only answered with a vague, menial answer that had no real connection to his deeds as a boss.

“It was—it was just an impulse…”

Belle’s expression hardened even though her eyes still looked so vulnerable and broken. “An impulse?” Her voice was small and meek. “That’s it?”

“I didn’t think you’d—say yes.”

Saying it to Hoseok was easy. Saying it to Belle felt evil. Jungkook noticed the darkness clouding over her beautiful features, a mixture of heartbreak and pure rage.

“You put my brother’s life on the line and you thought I wasn’t going to say yes?” Belle winced, tone rising back to its original power. A harsh slap of reality learning that one of the most traumatizing experiences of her life happened because one man had an impulse decision to use his power over her.

“Belle, it was years ago—”

“So why am I still getting nightmares about it?!” She shrieked leaving a tense silence to plunge into the room while her voice still echoed through the walls a little. “W-why h-haven’t I stopped seeing t-that mansion every time I close my eyes? Wh-why do I wake u-up scared that I’m still in that room w-while they watch—” Belle let out a loud, trembling breath closing her eyes. Tears rolled down her cheeks, dripping to her chest from her jawline as she hugged herself tightly.

Jungkook stammered, swallowing down the painful lump in his throat as he attempted to keep his composure. “You didn’t have to come and see me.” He whispered.

“I wanted you to see me.” Belle sniffled shakily. “Staying away from you doesn’t help because you could always push it out. I can’t—I can’t push it out because it’s inside me.”

“You think all this has been easy for me? That I just pushed it out?” Jungkook shook his head with a pained expression as their gazes met again. “Yeah our first meeting was an impulse but that didn’t mean it was always like that. I stopped a lot of contact with my family when you told me you were pregnant. That letter was meant to be the last thing I said to my parents before we left.”

Belle wanted to argue that he just started getting sympathetic after her pregnancy but she would be a hypocrite. Even she felt softened knowing a child was growing inside her. “You wanted to kill the mayor too, Jungkook, how long would that have taken?”

“Overnight if it meant I’d be escaping somewhere with you.” Jungkook spoke without hesitation, still remembering all the plans he had in place for their move.

“But I would’ve lost the baby anyway.” She smiled sadly. “It was natural causes.”

The male took a few careful steps forward, trying not to intimidate her but hopefully close a little more distance between them. “I didn’t just do it for the baby, Belle.” Jungkook sighed. “I did it cause I love you…but I knew we couldn’t be happy if we were at that mansion and I was still running the cartel.”

Belle sniffled. “I wish you didn’t love me.” Her chin trembled, her body tired of brewing more sobs as tears filled her eyes again. “I wish I didn’t love you. Maybe all this would be easier.”

“When has it ever been easy between us?”

“That’s the problem.” She pressed her lips together. “Love shouldn’t be this difficult. Maybe sometimes but—every single day wondering whether what you’re feeling is real…or worrying that something terrible is going to happen if I stay with you for too long.” Features contorted in pain as she stumbled on her feet a little.

Jungkook’s inhibitions banished immediately seeing her trip slightly, rushing to her side and gently holding onto her arm. Before he could say anything, he felt Belle rest her head on his chest. A burst of butterflies soared across his belly having that familiar smell touch his nostrils and the warmth of her body radiating onto his cold bare skin.

They didn’t say a single word as Jungkook properly wrapped his arms around her body, fingers brushing through her soft hair. Her sobs were quiet but her body still trembled and his embraced tightened a little. As if praying that all of her pain could be transferred to him so she did not have to suffer through it all.

Belle should have pulled away the moment he touched her but the warmth was too much. Her body felt heavy against his, melting onto his skin almost like they could join as one. Maybe that could repair some of the damage. Breathing became steady as she allowed herself to relax. A protective part of her still tried ensure she was not too vulnerable but another part said it was too late.

In this particular weakened moment, she was his and he was hers.

15 unread messages.

Namjoon: How did it go? Are you good?

Namjoon: Taehyung said you didn’t come home last night.

Namjoon: Belle?

Namjoon: I don’t want to have to track you down.

Namjoon: Please tell me if you’re okay.

Namjoon: Yoongi and Taehyung found out, I’m sorry.

Belle: I’m okay.

Namjoon: Jesus, don’t scare me like that.

Namjoon: Where are you?

Belle: I’m still at Jungkooks’ place.

Namjoon: Okay. Is everything alright?

Belle: I don’t know.

Namjoon: What do you mean? Did he hurt you?

Belle: No.

Namjoon: Just tell me what happened.

Namjoon: Look I’m not Yoongi or Taehyung. I won’t get mad, alright? You can tell me.

Belle: I slept with him.

Namjoon: Okay that’s fine.

Belle: No it’s not.

Namjoon: Did he hurt you or force you or anything?

Belle: No, no it was consensual.

Namjoon: Then I don’t see an issue.

Belle: How?

Namjoon: Considering he’s a former drug lord, I expected far worse things done to you then you two just consensually having sex.

Belle: Are they really angry?

Namjoon: I’ll handle Yoongi and Angel’s handling Taehyung. They’re grown men, they’ll get over it.

Namjoon: Just come back up again.

Belle: Okay. Thank you, Joon.

Namjoon: Anytime.

Belle let out a sigh, chest falling a little as she hugged her phone for a moment before placing it on the nightstand. Eyes scanned the ceiling, a few brownish stains here and there but nothing far too putrid. Her old apartment usually had those stains after a storm. She felt Jungkook shift a little, his arm still resting over her body while his face buried into her neck. It was so easy allowing the warmth to coat their little bubble.

Except it was not a bubble of theatrics. She was not pretending to be Mrs. Jeon anymore. She was a fashion designer with her boutique and Jungkook was a regular man trying to get by in the city. They were two normal people with no real threat to be together but they were here.

The ache between her legs still pulsed a little when she remembered the night before.

The very minute she resorted to hugging him, Belle knew it was going to be difficult to turn back from it. Deep recesses of her mind surfacing up to whisper in her ear that it would be okay just this once.

To feel him again.

To have his head between her legs at this moment, kissing and nibbling on all her sensitive nub while his fingers pads dug into her thighs. Jungkook took his time. Licking a stripe tantalizingly slow, tasting her juices until it was the only remnant on his tongue. He let out a breath through his nose as his lips wrapped fully around her clit, suckling passionately until her thighs closed up around his head only making him moan.

Belle whined against the vibrations on her aching, sensitive skin as her fingers found themselves knotting in his hair. Chest rising and falling she faced the ceiling. Lower belly burned and tightened as Jungkooks’ movement did not falter, shaking his head a little to jolt more of that head-spinning heat.

…

Bed creaked as Belle straddled him, bouncing at a steady pace while her hands rested on his torso. Moonlight painted her sweat glistening skin through the window. As if the whole city could see her relishing in her own guilty pleasure. Except the guilt was nowhere to be found.

His hand trailed up her abdomen to cup her breasts gently, digging a little into her tender skin to earn a small whimper from the woman. Then he moved up to her neck. Jungkook cupped the side, thumb tracing her bottom lip while the other hand gripped at her shaking hips.

Belle suckled on his digit muffling her moans all the while clenching tightly around his member until it sent shivering tingles up her spine. She hummed in satisfaction as Jungkook groaned at the pressure.

“You feel so good.” He pushed in his thumb a little further watching her slightly drenched curls fall over her face. A smile curled up at the corner of his lips hearing the sinfully loud squelch sounds their thrusts emitted. “So fucking beautiful.” Jungkook whispered. He forced himself to keep his eyes open, wanting to take every second of how she tried to suck on his skin harder every time she dropped down roughly.

“I’m close.” Belle’s words were a little muddled against his thumb. Her thrusts grew desperate and relentless, pussy squelching violently as their incessant moans swirled in the sex scented air.

Bursts of searing heat and unbridled pleasure shook through their limbs, pulsing through her veins as Belle’s movements became sloppy. Jungkook had his head pressed deep against the pillow as his muscles tensed feeling her walls clench around him before he pulled himself out, release spewing out onto his belly. Belle cheekily reached down to touch his reddened member, giggling lightly when he jerked against it.

Jungkook followed with a breathless chuckle of his own as she rested back on his chest, uncaring of how messy they were.

It was the first time they laughed after sex.

Granted it was not much but last night gave her a dreamless sleep. A welcomed type of sleep. They cried, hugged, moaned and laughed. So many sensations all at once was bound to make anyone have such a deep sleep that they do not want to wake up the next day. A wonderful feeling. It would be temporary before her other dreams settle in again but Belle was not going to let them get to her this morning. She wanted to relish in this new, momentary peace.

Jungkook began stirring more, light hum under his breath until he finally opened his eyes to a calming sight. Tired vision still a little blurred but he could always make out her face. “Sleep well?” His voice grumbled despite the smile creeping on his lips.

Belle turned to meet his gaze, mimicking his gentle smile. “Really well.” The curl slowly disappeared from her lips as reality seeped through their comfort. “We can’t see each other anymore. You know that, right?”

He nodded although solemnly. “I know.” Whatever red string they forced themselves to tie around their pinky finger had to separate one day. Even when reluctance settled in. “Like you said, love shouldn’t be as difficult as ours was.” Jungkook shifted so he lay down his back, one arm curled so he could rest his head on top of it.

“I don’t have to leave now though.”

“What, you want more?” Jungkook licked the inside of his cheek as a smirk formed, one of his hands reaching out to gently touch her lower belly.

Belle pushed his hand away with a chuckle. “No…I meant something else.” She pulled the sheets up to cover herself a little, goosebumps forming on her skin when the room brushed a little cold. “Ice-cream. We could get ice-cream.”

A jolt of nostalgia burst through him as he remembered the last time that request was passed between them. Despite expecting a child back then, Jungkook preferred this more knowing Belle was sitting here by her own volition. That was what mattered most. “Yeah…we can get ice-cream.”

Tiny slab of pink and mint down the food line of the city. Belle somehow managed to make his black T-shirt and her sweatpants look strangely put together while he buried himself in his hoodie. They walked inside the cute parlor immediately greeted by a kind boy at the counter.

Making their orders, the couple took their ice-cream cups to a booth at the corner.

Thankfully the parlor was empty since no one bought ice-cream this early in the morning so it would be difficult for them to be spotted.

Journalists eventually grew bored of doing stories on Jungkook and Belle’s ‘tragic love story’ but she knew the moment, a single person saw them, it would be chaos.

“Did you have any trouble these few years?” Jungkook asked feeling a sense of joy in his mouth as the sweet taste touched his tongue.

Belle shrugged lightly. “Apparently there was a hired hitman for a while but he was quickly detained. Then a stalker which lasted for a few months.”

“What did he want?”

“Namjoon found out he was a spy for a gang called Pogpungu Pa.”

“Fucking tongue twister.” Jungkook scoffed. “They wanted a large percentage of my cocaine supplies in exchange for prostitutes.” He waved his spoon. “Told him I didn’t work in that line of business so the Don got pissed.”

“Well he’s also detained. Namjoon’s been very quick in dealing with them. Probably happy to be out on the field again with Yoongi still at his desk.” Belle suckled the remnants of brownie bits from her spoon.

“Why is he at his desk?” His brows furrowed.

“Standard procedure, I guess. Every detective is meant to have a few months of therapy and leave from field work. But I’m pretty sure it’s a new thing that the mayor advised.”

“They’ve been doing a lot of things.”

“A lot of good things.” Belle corrected, narrowing her gaze even though her expression was not completely serious.

Jungkook smiled lightly picking up another small scoop of his ice-cream. “You’ve been doing a lot of good things. The Tokyo fashion week.”

Her eyes almost immediately lit up when the topic was mentioned and Jungkook couldn’t help but feel accomplished that he initiated it. “You knew about that?”

“Saw it in the newspaper. It looked good.”

Belle grinned from ear to ear, eyes shining in the bright lights of the parlor. “Angel helped me with the movement. She wanted to create a shelter for domestic violence victims like her. So I offered to promote it in the fashion shows.”

“Oh yeah Hoseok told me…Taehyung and Angel, they have a kid, right?”

“Yeah…” She giggled lightly. “A little baby daughter.”

“That’s good.” Jungkook nodded with a wide smile. “He’s all okay now?”

“Clean and sober for four years. He—relapsed another time but when they got married and then started trying for children, he never went back again.” Belle murmured still remembering the happiest look on Taehyung’s teary eyed face when he first held his baby. That was all she ever wanted for her brother. True happiness. “I kind have you to thank for that.”

He hummed in disapproval. “Don’t, please—the way I did it was wrong.”

“Yes but everything happens for a reason. I think if that didn’t happen…he might not be here at all.” Belle shook his head. “He also did technically meet Angel in the Sangria House. The only reason we even had her booked was because I met Seokjin at the party with you.”

Strange how time fools you in that way. It makes you feel regretful of the bad things that happened in the past except you could not possibly take them back because it would mean diminishing the good things along with it. Delicate and strange thing time was.

“I would’ve never been free from that place if you didn’t go behind my back.” Jungkook smiled down at the cup. “I’ll always be grateful for that.”

“Speaking of which…how is it like being a normal joe in the city?” Belle asked with a cheeky glint in her eye as she tapped her fingers against the ice-cream cup.

“Apparently you have to pay for grocery bags now.” He waved his spoon around.

“Yes for recycling and it’s been happening for a very long time.” She smiled.

His bottom lip jutted out in a little pout. “Not from what I remember.”

“Since when have you ever shopped for groceries?”

Jungkook scrunched his nose a little poking into the mint chocolate ice cream to pick out the chips. “Since yesterday.” He mumbled. “But I’m happy…” He nodded letting his words linger in their comfortable silence. “Or at least now I can do things that make me happy.”

“You could travel to Tokyo and Paris, eat ice-cream until your stomach aches…” Belle grinned. “You can get married to someone you love dearly and have lots of children. No more deals though.” She raised her index fingers as a warning.

Jungkook laughed. “No more deals, I promise.” He mixed around his melting ice-cream for a bit enjoying the little swirl. “What about you? What’re you going to do?”

“My therapist said I should take some time off from the boutique when I get the chance.” Belle quoted her therapist mostly but she never really thought about the prospect on her own until she discussed it with Yoongi. “Yoongi suggested we could go to Norway to disconnect for a little while.”

“Yoongi…wait, are you two—”

“No, silly. As friends.”

“Ah.”

“You think if I had a boyfriend like Yoongi, I’d sleep with you again?” Belle scoffed even though a smile tugged at her lips.

“Hey I’m pretty tempting.”

“Not that tempting.”

Jungkook scrunched his nose at her before chuckling as he practically slurped on his ice-cream at this point.

The couple sat in silence for a few moments finishing their breakfast desserts, unable to keep smiles off their faces.

“We go our separate ways now, yeah?” He spoke the truth this time. The satisfaction in his belly along with the warmth in his heart softly stating to him that it was time.

Belle smiled, a slight twinge in her chest but nothing compared to the relief brewing inside. A whisper in her ear telling her it was okay. It was okay to move on. “Yeah. No more looking back.”

Throwing their empty ice-cream cups away, the pair walked out of the parlor towards Belle’s car. Jungkook’s apartment was a few minutes’ walk away. She wanted to drive because it made it that little bit easier to go back home immediately. At this point, they both deserved one thing to be easy.

Belle gave him one final smile before climbing into the car and driving away.

Jungkook didn’t wait a second as he turned on his heel and walked back to his apartment.

This was the true final time they saw each other. They would not turn back. There was no need to anymore.

As soon as Jungkook walked into the room, it smelled a whole lot more different than it did the first time. The only smoke emitting was from the pan exuding a warm, delicious scent. Morning sun beaming through the windows making it look a tad bit brighter and the floors almost shone clean now.

“There you are!” Hoseok announced with a grin. “Did you go out for a jog?”

“Yeah…a little bit.” He answered absentmindedly.

A figure with short, black hair stood at the kitchen counter setting some bacon and eggs up on the plate. She looked up and immediately give him a similar bright smile as Hoseok.

“Ah—this is Rosyne.” Hoseok touched the womans’ shoulder. “Rosyne, Jungkook.” He gestured over to the younger male.

The two exchanged greetings before Hoseok invited him over to the kitchen counter to have breakfast. He wanted to tell them that his stomach was a little full from the ice-cream. But it felt so peaceful when he saw the giggles shared between them while eating, random conversations that no one really cared about but it made them smile.

Jungkook stayed still for a moment watching them so easily be vulnerable and happy around each other. “Hey, you guys want to go to Paris?” He sat down on one of the stools.

Rosyne’s eyes widened a little as the request lingered in the air while Hoseok looked amused but taken aback at the same time.

“Why the sudden interest?” Hoseok chuckled, sticking his fork into some scrambled eggs.

He shrugged. “Might be cool to disconnect for a little while.”

“Prison wasn’t disconnecting enough?”

Jungkook nudged his arm with a light scoff. “You know what I mean. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“I’ve—always wanted to see the Louvre in real life.” Rosyne raised her shoulders, giving Hoseok an adorable smile.

“Don’t spoil him, Ros.” Hoseok glanced at the both of them for a few moments before letting out a defeated sigh. “We’ll think about it.”

Jungkook did not argue any further after that and began taking careful bites of the breakfast even though it might give him a stomach ache later. The thought of something actually exciting happening this year or the next year made him happy enough to keep going on this new life.

Carefully padding into the apartment, Belle’s footsteps were soft and barely echoed across the walls but there was no use in being discreet. Especially since Yoongi, Taehyung, Namjoon and Angel were all in the sitting room. Bloom sat on the floor completely focused on banging her little drums that Namjoon gifted her on her first birthday.

Once Angel looked her way, everyone else followed suit. Yoongi was the first one to shoot up to his feet and stomp towards the woman.

“What took you so long?” Yoongis’ words sounded more like pleading than anger. “Are you hurt?” Eyes frantically examined her body until his gaze darkened as he stopped at her neck.

Belle hovered her hand over the patch of skin that definitely had a few purpling marks scattered but she kept a calm expression. “Everything’s fine, okay? Nothing happened.”

“No something happened.”

“Yoongi, fuck off.” Namjoon grabbed his shoulder and led him to the side. “Good to have you back in one piece, B.”

As the two men sat near the paneled windows muttering a few things to each other, Belle caught another figure coming towards her from the corner of her eye. She took a deep breath keeping her gaze on her brother.

Taehyung looked so much taller now. Loose emerald shirt with golden vectors as opposed to the old black hoodies, his eyes were a little darkened from exhaustion but this time it was to take care of his baby rather than an accidental bender. The serious expression on his face added more to the fact that Belle had her older brother back. He was sturdy in his appearance and confident in his stance. The look of a man who had gone through a tunnel of hell and found happiness at the end of the trail.

“How’d it go?” He asked.

“Pretty civil…” Belle nodded, playing with her fingers a little. “…considering the circumstances.”

Taehyung hummed in approval. “That’s good. And that?” He waved his index finger across his own bare neck while looking at hers. “Good or bad?”

“Good.” She smiled faintly. “Really good.”

He grimaced a little. “Gross.”

“Shut up.”

Taehyung could not seem to keep his serious expression as a light chuckle broke out of him, shifting on his spot to loosen up. “But—no more, right? We’re gonna try to get back up again? Start over?” He would be the last person to ever judge Belle for her impulses. What he did know is that the impulses were not meant to be a constant.

Belle did not hesitate to nod. “I uh—I wanted to go to Norway. With Yoongi…” She glanced over to the side seeing Yoongi give her a more apologetic look which the woman smiled in response. “And maybe you guys too? Get away from the city for a while.” She shrugged. “Might even give me inspiration on the new line.”

He thought on the idea for a moment but quickly had a wide grin on his lips. “Angel’s been talking about going on a holiday. We could talk about it over breakfast.”

“Let me just go freshen up.” Belle patted him on the shoulder before making her up the top level of the apartment to her bedroom.

Being the owner of a prestigious boutique came with its perks when she managed to get a big enough apartment for three people including safety for children. It was in the highly populated areas of the city which is meant to be the best area for the position they were in. With Angel’s first husband and Belle’s connection to the Jeon Cartel, the more witnesses around them, the better.

Walking into her bedroom, Belle had one thing in mind before going to shower as she opened her walk-in closet. On the top shelves a box had been hidden under some folded sheets. She reached out and pulled it towards her feeling the light trickle of dust flow through the air making her sneeze.

Sniffling a little she brought the brown box and sat down on the bed with it. Belle paused for a moment, a very light tinge of dread brushing through her but there was a strength that seemed to power through it. Taking a deep breath she clicked open the box. Two tiny yellow shoes on the right hand side causing her to let out a shaky sigh, smiling a little as a few tears filled her eyes.

Belle held the shoes gently, hugging them to her chest before placing them on her lap. Then her eyes moved from the bracelet to the piece of folded paper. The warmth in her belly soared again taking the letter, unfolding to reveal the heavy promise scratched across the surface. The promise that kept her up at night for this many years. How much words could impact a mind was both fascinating and terrifying.

No more though. It was time. Something her therapist said to her in one session Belle would never forget.

It’s never about one solid destination of healing. You will never know exactly when you were healed. All you can know is when you decide to start or keep healing. That is what’s important. After that, everything will flow by you…in the future, it will all seem like a dream. But you’ll feel so proud of yourself when you look back, Belle. Even more proud than I am of you now. You’ve done so well and I hope you’ll keep healing.

Belle placed her fingers at the top of the letter and ripped it half, letting out a deep of relief as she put them together, ripping it again. Smaller and smaller the pieces became breaking off like petals from the already withering flowers in her heart. A smile widened on her lips as she let out something in the mixture of a chuckle and a sob, tears freely leaving her eyes. Teeny tiny pieces piled on the bed. Helping to remind her that they were just words after all.

With steady hands she gathered them together and threw it into the bin under her nightstand.

Then Belle took the yellow shoes and walked to the living room.

The group were already settling around the kitchen counter when she arrived. Angel had Bloom in a high chair feeding her some custard looking mush which she seemed to enjoy though slightly confused by the taste.

Belle walked over to where the child was and gently placed the yellow shoes on her socked feet. She could not help but grin seeing how it fit perfectly. Everything happens for a reason.

“Those are beautiful.” Angel gently touched the soft fabric. “Did you make them?”

“I got them from the market years ago.” She softly brushed through Blooms’ thin dark hair as the child tried to peek at what her aunt put on her feet.

“We were just talking about the trip to Norway.” Taehyung spoke up leaning against the counter next to Angel.

“Yeah, why was I not invited?” Namjoon pouted a little.

Belle stammered, chuckling lightly. “It was Yoongi’s suggestion…we can all go together. I thought you wanted to do field work for the rest of the year.”

“Still would’ve liked to be included.”

Bloom squeaked in response to Namjoon’s mumble, bouncing up and down her seat.

“Might need a babysitter if Taehyung wants to get laid.” Yoongi mused.

“Ah, language.” Angel covered Blooms’ ears but the baby only grinned wide looking at Yoongi.

“She’s not going to know what it means.”

“Listen, we’ll go together.” Belle silenced the group for a moment. “Namjoon forgets to take breaks from work anyway so it’d be a good way to force him out somewhere relaxing.”

“Norway does have a low crime rate.” Taehyung spoke.

“So it’s settled. We’re going to Norway and forget about our problems for a month.” Angel announced glancing at each one of them for a nod of approval.

Belle grinned seeing the group dive into their conversations about what to do in Norway and what hotels to book or the sights to see. No worries of any impending problem or event that could ruin everything. It was just peace in the loudest way possible. All you can know is when you decide to start or keep healing. That is what’s important.

She broke for her family once.

Now she was going to keep healing for it too.

<< PREV CHAP

#jungkook #jungkook imagines #bts imagines #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #bts fanfiction #jungkook mafia au #bts mafia au

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starfirette · 3 years

Note

Ok but Helena Bertinelli x fem!reader where Helena takes all her pent up anger out on reader thru sex and she just tops the FUCK out of R and it’s super hot and R lowkey loves when Helena gets angry when it leads to steamy sex👀 oof I need a MINUUUTE😫

a/n: this is very smutty. it is more emotionally angry, and y/n more takes her anger out on helena, BUT i think it's good. .......i think?? | 18+

masterlist | more helena | inbox | ships + requests open

Every single piece of furniture was toppled over.

The fine china that you’d once had shelved on display littered the floor in ground little pieces.

It was a shocking scene to say the least, especially when you were expecting to walk through the door and take an instant nap.

After being in Moscow for the week, both you and Helena had been looking forward to coming back to the shared Alaska home high up in the mountains.

As you stared around in a state of shock, Helena pulled you by the waist. It was as though she wanted to shield you from the destruction that laid before your eyes.

You weren’t naive. At least, not too naive. You could recognize what was going on.

The last time something similar happened was three years ago. At that time, you and Helena had recently been married. It was the threats and destruction that followed Helena which caused her to leave Gotham with you in tow. Together, you traveled halfway across the across the country, in search for a haven that would protect you from Helena’s enemies.

But they’d found you. Again.

“Get your coat,” Helena instructed as she pushed you towards the foyer.

“But-”

“Get your coat, now, Y/n,” she snapped again, not bothering to look at you.

You felt oddly embarrassed by the way your wife had spoken to you. You mustered a submissive nod as you hurried to pull on the coat you’d just taken off.

Helena’s angry, Italian cursing bounced off the walls as she turned through the house, her shoes crunching over glass. She spoke with someone in the phone. Her words were fast and icy. She rarely spoke in Italian, but you’d been with her long enough to learn some of the lingo. She spoke about a safe house and about a rabbit--

Maybe rabbit wasn’t the right word.

But you’re positive it’s something about a safehouse.

You waited in the foyer, shivering in the heavy coat you wore despite the warmth it was generating.

Helena came rushing to you after her phone conversation ended. “We’re getting back in the car,” she instructed you, using her hands to physically turn you back to face the door.

“Wait, what’s going on?” you asked, feeling dumb as she snatched a random sweater from the coat closet.

“We’ve been found, so we’re leaving,” Helena said again, slowing her words as if she was trying to dumb it down for you. She put her arm around your waist, ushering you out of the house and carefully down the snowy pathway that led to your driveway. The fresh powdered snow had two sets of footprints, your own and Helena’s. You didn’t see any others, nothing that would have alerted you to thinking someone had broken in.

Your face burned with warmth as Helena buckle you into the passenger seat. You don’t like being babied by her. You were tempted to bitch about the way she was treating you, but you knew better. At least, right now. You try to remember she’s in a panic, and she’s running on auto pilot.

The car raced down the long driveway that wrapped in a spiral down the mini mountain.

Your heart thumped in your throat as she sped away from the house. You clutched into your seatbelt, letting it dig into your palms. “Slow down,” you finally blurted out.

Helena grunted in response. Her foot reluctantly pumped the break.

You know she doesn’t like to be told to slow down, or to relax, or to be safe. Even so, Helena knows you don’t like when she drives to fast, or goes into a rage, or puts her safety on the line.

The drive was silent as she expertly navigated some snowy backroads. You wanted to talk to her, maybe even distract her from whatever was boiling in her brain. She didn’t explain what was happening. You were left to your own devices. You could only assume she was taking you to one of her safe checkpoints in Cordova. That had been ingrained into to your mind; Cordova is safe. If anything happens, go to Cordova and call someone, whether it be Harley or one of Helena’s contacts in Italy.

You slumped down your seat, shifting all of your body to lean against your door, your head against the window. "I love you," you muttered.

Helena didn't say anything.

The underground house in Cordova spans 500 square feet. It's nothing fancy. It's more of a basic studio flat than a house, really, with a very well structured lay out. The kitchen consisted of a two burner stove and an old fashioned ice box. On that same note, the given bedroom was really just a queen size mattress on the floor, shoved in a corner against the north eastern wall. It had a pile of new pillows, still wrapped in their Macy's store liners.

You dropped your coat on the little coffee table in the dead center of the room. It faced an outdated, but thorough, television set, with a boxy TV and VHS player. Stacks of worn VHS tapes and magazines were laced neatly on the little coffee table, alongside the clunky television remote.

A single door was on the western wall, and you assumed it led to the bathroom.

You pried off your shoes as Helena closed the heavy vault door, turning all of the metal spires so the locks clicked, leaving only you and her within the room.

It was a heavy silence for a couple minutes. Helena didn't do anything but stand, staring intensely at the vaulted door, as if it was responsible for destroying your mountain top mansion.

You curled into the bed. The quilts had the consistency of hotel blankets, thin and flimsy, allowing all the cold air to pass through the threads.

The side of the bed sank when Helena sat down, her long legs bent at the knees awkwardly. Her hand placed softly on your back, which was huddled in the corner of the bed, pulled over with the quilts.

"Are you okay?" Helena asked. Her voice was hard. She sounded as if she were in a great deal of pain.

You rolled over. You faced your own wall, turning your back on her. When you did not answer, Helena asked again. "Don't ignore me," she snapped.

You jerked upright.

Helena looked momentarily surprised, as if she'd watched a corpse rise from his grave. You stared at her with wide, angry eyes.

"Don’t even start,” you snapped, holding up a finger to stop whatever words Helena was about to start blabbering out.

"You're not allowed to speak to me any way you want, any time you want," you added with a jab of your finger. You scrambled to leave the bed, tripping over the bedding as you clumsily plunged out of her reach.

"I understand that you're stressed," you said, trying to control the volume at which you spoke. "But you always take it out on me. You always make me feel like the world's going to end."

Helena pinched her nose, bending so her elbows rested on her knees. She looked stressed, just so stressed, just about as stressed as you were feeling, but maybe less angry and shaky. "This is serious, Y/n," she said slowly, as if she didn't think you would have understood her otherwise.

"Even so, we have to keep our wits about us. We have to keep our relationship steady, otherwise we're just going to fall apart and fail. This relationship will not last. It will not last. We are always going to be chased by these troubles, by your enemies. I think I could handle it if we didn't get into massive fucking fights every time it happened. It feels like I'm a kid again, watching my parents go back and forth, staying together 'for us kids', when it's pretty clear that divorce would just be better for all of us."

Helena by now had released her face. She had a blank expression as she stared at you.

"I'm sorry," she finally said.

You couldn't muster much energy, so you shrugged and collapsed on the little sofa. "I don't care anymore," you muttered. "I just want water. I want to sleep."

Helena ran to your side. She knelt at your feet, quite literally on her hands and knees for you. She braced her hands on your thighs. "How can I make it up to you?"

You stared down at her, unsure of what to say.

"I cannot lose you," she said next. "There wouldn't be a reason to have such safehouses like this if I lost you."

"I cannot handle these fights anymore. It's too much."

"What can I do?"

"I just want to sleep," you sighed. "I'd rather just...listen to the television."

Helena led you to the bed, straightening out the mess you'd made when you'd trampled out of it. You shimmied out of your pants, throwing them out so you could sleep comfortably.

"Please just talk to me," Helena begged as she laid behind you. She wrapped her arms around you tenderly, your back pressed against her chest. "I'm just tired, Helena," you sighed as you let your eyes fall shut.

Helena dragged her hand up the stomach of your shirt, her calloused palm tucking close against your belly.

"I'm tired," you whispered.

Her fingers slipped beneath the band of your underwear. Her palm cupped your warmth, her lips pressing soothing kisses behind your ear.

She did not tease that night. She swept two finger tips into the opening of your hot, twitchy cunt, swiping drops of arousal and then spreading it around your clit. The lubricant beneath her fingertips made the sensation slippery and slick. You slowly gasped at the feeling. The sensation got you to slip out of your body for a split second, as if you could see the scene playing out in front of you. Your hips were grinding fast and hard into Helena's hand.

You snatched her wrist and pushed her hand down. "Inside," you snapped. "If you're really sorry, then inside."

"As you wish," Helena murmured. Her three fingers pushed up and in, stretching the velvety walls of your cunt out. You wanted to scream. Her fingers curled and reached up at the spongey spot way inside of you, like the brightest star in all the galaxy.

"Shit!" you cried. You lurched your head back, your hair scrunching up into Helena's face and nose. She didn't seem to care as she slowly pumped in and out, always making sure to press up at your starpoint.

"Never again," you cried as you gripped at Helena's forearm. You used this as an anchor point to keep you grounded while you wiggled your hips into Helena's hand. "You're never again going to treat me this way. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Dove, yes," Helena assured you in a soothing voice. "You're such a good bird for me," she sighed, her cool breath tickling your ear. "And you deserve good things. You deserve to cum all over my hand."

Yes, an internal voice shrieked within you. You thought another version of yourself would punch through your chest and take over, take over everything.

Your entire existence rolled up into nothing but pure light as you felt your high coming on quickly. You knew you were cumming, and Helena did too, for she used her other hand to simultaneously stimulate your clit.

The pressure released, like a balloon snapping in your belly.

You were breathing heavily as you sank into Helena's arms. You hadn't realized how tense you'd been until all of your muscles relaxed.

"I'm sorry, Dove," Helena murmured into your ear. She held you tight and close. Her natural perfume, a blend of rosewater and fresh flowers, flooded your senses. With your energy dwindling after such an exertion, you didn't have the strength to argue or complain. You laid there, silently accepting her apology. No longer were you distracted by the wanton desires for orgasm and relief. And in the same way, you were no longer consumed with bitter anger.

"Do you promise we're going to be alright?" you asked, voice cracking and hoarse.

Helena kissed your neck.

"I do."

#just so we're clear i have no idea who the villains of this story are #whomstever broke into your mansion is anonymous #there will be no part two #i have no more creativitiy #i spelled that wrong #i dont care #helena bertinelli x reader #helena bertinelli imagine #helena bertinelli imagein #birds of prey x reader #birds of prey imagine #dceu x reader #dceu imagine #dc x reader #dc imagine #starfirette writes

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aphrodite-would-be-proud · 3 years

Text

Fluff alphabet with Porco

{ Porco x reader | tw:none | fluff | modern }

{ "Charlotte Wolter als Messalina" 1875 by Hans Makart 1840 - 1884 }

P is for PDA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

Very upfront and vocal about his relationship, bringing you up in random conversations, sharing small details whenever something reminds him of you and showing you off like you're made of gold whenever the topic is brought up.

He does it unconsciously too, yet gets protective whenever someone seems too interested in you.

It's just common sense for him to be like this since he loves you so much, so why wouldn't he brag about you like you invented the sun, both in front of his friends and strangers at work.

Doesn't allow any slander to your name, if anyone has a problem with you then they need to get through him first because he will defend you like his life depends on it, it's his own form of love to stand up for you and fight your fights.

Has a hard time understanding sometimes you need to fight alone and deal with your problems on your own, he's just really worried and would rather do it himself instead

Will try to convince you otherwise but if you insist he will reluctantly agree since in the end he respects your boundaries, although will be a bit sarcastic and passive aggressive afterwards.

It's just that secretly he's afraid of you not needing him, so he wants to prove his worth to you, even if his overprotective tendencies can get overbearing at times.

He's also on board with any form of public affection but tries to play it cool because otherwise he will get flustered in front of people. But when you're alone he's the most affectionate love struck puppy ever, constantly touching you in some way, urging you to play with his hair and kissing you in every now and then.

Will deny this each and every time you bring it up and say you're the one who's clinging to him, despite him currently cuddling you from behind, face resting on your shoulder while you scroll through your phone.

He's also the little spoon but shhh.

Yet outside the furthest he'll go is having an arm around you, doesn't try anything else on his end.

O is for on Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

He's generally more calmer and at peace when smitten, more considerate of other people and not as easily riled up. His face doesn't really show anything but the drumming of his fingers against the desk says otherwise.

Only noticeable for the people close to him, strangers can't really tell and work friends would just think he's in a slightly better mood, even if he's swimming through the clouds inside.

To you, if he's feeling more in love than usual, he wouldn't say it outright, god forbid he shows vulnerability at any time except before falling asleep.

Instead he'll stare at you more, tace his fingers over your hand more and whisper in your ear more.

Nonchalantly giving you random compliments in a passive way, for example:

"You should wear this outfit more."

"Smiling really suits your eyes"

"Your voice helps me sleep, it's soothing."

Shows his love in way like:

"You could've told me to do it instead, you know? You should rest."

"You made this for me? Alright then I'm cooking your favourite tomorrow, no this isn't negotiable."

"Hey I'm going to the store, what snacks do you want? Yeah it's for the movie you mentioned since I'm free today."

R is for romance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

Doesn't know much about romance but if he ever is, it's mostly by accident since he can be smooth without trying or realising it.

He truly brought these flowers because Pieck took him with her to the store and he just happened to see them, doesn't even think much of it except that they look pretty, and you look pretty so it makes sense.

Of course he brought you food in bed, it's just to save time. You weren't getting up and he hates eating alone, why are you smiling?

The only reason he took you to this really nice spot near the lake was because he thought your eyes looked pretty when reflecting sunlight, what's a picnic?

Other than that he doesn't know much about romance, romantic movies never were interesting to him and lovey dovey stuff never crossed his mind. He just acts on what he feels is right and what seems to make you happy

Especially when it comes to words, his actions speak much more than his mouth ever can. He just doesn't know what to say and gets frustrated that he can't just show you how much he adores you instead of saying it.

Although to other people, and by Porco's usual skepticism and general manners, he doesn't talk to anyone else like he talks to you. Hell he even brags about you which shocked all of his friends, since the only person he spoke about this way before was Marcel.

In conclusion, pure romance isn't in his vocabulary but if you ask him he'll attempt his best, though keep your expectations low, since he's doing something out of his comfort zone, otherwise it will end up with both of you getting frustrated.

C is for comfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

He'd instantly wrap you in his arms and attempt to ask what's wrong or if someone did something, till he realises you're not in a good shape to reply that he changes his approach and attempts to soothe you.

Won't let you go or leave your side, will listen to everything you say without hesitation and reminds you that he's here, you're not alone and he wouldn't let anything harm you in any way, you're safe and he will make sure it stays this way.

Isn't good with words but his actions show how much he cares, he actually panics himself when you do but is good at hiding it. Will watch over you when you fall asleep and be there when you wake up, bringing you water or something to drink.

Reminds you that you can tell him anything, he loves you and won't judge, he's on your side no matter what.

Gets emotional himself, even feels a bit of guilt at not noticing what you're going through sooner, will apologise assuming it's something he did without asking.

He'd keep this up for the rest of the week, till he's sure you're better. Paying close attention and being much nicer than usual even when you insist it's okay.

O is for on Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

Porco isn't good at expressing his feelings, mostly keeping them buried inside and never letting anyone too close, even rivaling Annie in this trait.

Reading him is pretty hard too since he tends to always wear the tough stoic mask that it's hard to tell when it slips away, he's pretty good at faking his emotions for the sake of other people too and not to make them worried.

If he ever does share a moment of vulnerability with you, it's after dating for a long while that he feels safe enough around you.

He also tends to put your feelings before his, which isn't a good thing since he will underplay his frustration with something and keeps it inside till it bubbles and pops out later in a big way, arguments with him are a matter of when, they will happen eventually.

In which he pours his heart out for you, everything that upset him, his anger is just suppressed sadness who doesn't know itself anymore.

If you can see through that and comfort him instead of feeding into his argument, he will calm down and apologise.

Then have a heart to heart moment with you when he vents about the stress he's been under, how sorry he is for taking it out on you and how much you being by his side means to him.

With you he starts learning how to share vulnerability in healthy ways and how to depend on you too, that he can let his guard down and you won't hurt him.

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reidyoulikeabook · 3 years

Text

M is for Maybe One Day

Ship: Fem! Reader x Spencer Reid

Warnings: Discussion of marriage and children.

Word count: 1.7k

Summary: Spencer and reader have a conversation about their future.

A/N: This is the angst free version of part M! If you’re looking for the version that contains angst, that’s here. This is the main scene from the story and is designed so that people who don’t feel comfortable with the potentially upsetting content from the angst-version are still able to enjoy this version. Let me know what you think! :)

Part of The A-Z of Spencer Reid but works as a stand-alone.

You’re awake before Spencer is. You don’t want to risk waking him up by disentangling yourself, so you stay right where you are, unsure of what time it is. You’re infinitely happier curled up in his arms than you would be by being bestowed with that knowledge.

It can only be early, anyhow. There’s only a trickle of light pooling under the curtains. The big living room light got left on last night, you knew Spencer needed it to keep the darkness at bay. It pokes into the room through the gap in the not-quite-closed door, allowing you to get a relatively good look at him.

His hair is a wreck. Even in sleep, you can see the bags firmly indented under his eyes. His mouth is open. No snores come out, only tiny breaths escape the lips formed into an ‘o’ shape.

He looks peaceful.

Unencumbered by any of the worries from yesterday. You close your eyes, deciding that getting a few more hours sleep can’t hurt.

It’s then that he moves. He wiggles his fingers, more than likely trying to wake up the arm that’s gone dead with you lying on it. You open your eyes, and his face floods with guilt. The exact face he makes when you find him hobbling around the apartment without his crutches.

“Sorry,” He squeaks, “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“I was awake already,” You reassure him, adjusting your position so that he can move his arm, “Did you sleep well?”

He visibly relaxes, his voice raspy with sleep, “I slept okay. Better because you were here.”

You hum. Opening your arms, you nod for him to move. He does, coming to settle himself with his head resting on your chest. There’s a peaceful lull. The residents of Virginia aren’t awake yet, so you’re enveloped in the kind of quiet that only comes with the early hours of the morning. No cars racing past or mothers upstairs on a mission to suck every piece of dust out of their apartment, and potentially yours too.

You feel the low rumble of his throat before you hear it, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You’re not quite sure how long you lie like that. In this liminal space between asleep and wakefulness, night and morning. Your brain starts to wander, trying to settle on anything to use as a rope to escape the reality of last night that bites at your ankles.

For some reason, it settles on Derek. The image of him at his desk.

Planning to raise the next generation of Einsteins?

“I was thinking,” You murmur, playing with a piece of his hair, “I was talking to Derek last week. He was talking about Garcia, and how they’ve spoken about having kids. I mean, I know they’ve been together a lot longer but, it got me thinking.”

He pulls back. For a moment, you’re afraid you’ve gone too far. Then he swallows, his lips curling upwards into a small smile.

“Would you want to-” He cuts himself off, clearing his throat, “Would that be something you could see yourself wanting someday? To marry me?”

“I’d love to marry you,” You tell him, lifting your fingers to his face to trace over the familiar lines of his cheekbones, the points of his face a dot-to-dot you could connect in your sleep.

He smiles, “Would you be Mrs Reid?”

“Of course I’d be Mrs Reid. I’d hate to disappoint the aquarium.”

“Well in that case-” He pretends to move, as if to shift towards the bedside table.

“You don’t have a ring in there.”

“Not yet.”

“It’d be a bad place to keep it.”

“Or it might work as a double bluff.”

“I know your bluffs. Double or triple or quadruple.”

He scrunches his nose, “I don’t think I’ve ever quadruple bluffed.”

“You might one day.”

“I suppose if you’re going to be Mrs Reid you’ll get the chance to find out.”

"I’d like to be Mrs Reid,” You tell him, sincere once more, “I can’t imagine myself ever being with anybody else.”

“I can’t imagine what my life would look like without you in it now,” He says, his voice painfully earnest, cracking a bit at the end.

“Neither can I.”

There’s a shift in atmosphere. Small but significant, one that has you staring at him. Trying to piece together how this ended up being your life. How you went from co-workers at desks next to one another exchanging pleasantries, a man you called Dr Reid for the first week of knowing him until he cracked and insisted you called him Spencer. How you transformed from that to this, caterpillars entering a caramel chrysillis and making it out the other side, soaring through near death experiences and aquarium trips and job offers at Caltech.

There’s been a lot, really.

He interrupts your thoughts, so softly it barely jolts you, “I-I’ve known it for a while now. I’m not sure when I realised but I think that, that we just make it work.”

“We do,” You agree, “That’s what I said to Derek. I think we just understand each other.”

“I never really felt like anybody ever understood me,” He mumbles, his voice dropping as it becomes more sincere, shifting his face more into the pillow, “My whole life I um, I sort of felt out of place. I didn’t always understand peoples jokes or know how to talk to them. I didn’t think I’d ever find somewhere I felt like I belonged.”

His voice wavers. You kiss the top of his forehead, not interrupting, just reassuring.

He continues, “Joining the BAU changed things. Meeting Morgan and Garcia especially. They made me feel like, for the first time in my life, I had friends. Who weren’t annoyed by everything that I said.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” You tell him, your hand coming to rest at the nape of his neck to play with the stray hairs there, “You never do and I understand why. But you’re more than smart. I love your brain, and your memory, and I admire all of that. But you’re also thoughtful,” You punctuate each assertion with a kiss to his knuckles, “And kind. And funny. And you make me feel so loved.”

He sniffles a bit, lifting his head. You can see the tears sparkling in his eyes, and you bring your interlocked hand to his chin, your thumb resting there. He swallows, and you pause for a moment before speaking again.

“And if I was ever going to have a family, there’s nobody I’d rather do it with than you.”

“Really?” He’s winded by the assertion, his breath catching in his throat, “You’d want a family with me?”

“Of course I do. love you. You’d make the most amazing dad in the world Spence.”

“Do you really think so?”

“I know so. Look at how you are with Henry and Jack. You’re the best Uncle ever,” You murmur, “Raising kids with you is the best decision I could make.”

He‘s quiet. Soaking it in. He holds you tighter against his body, essentially putting you back into your place against his neck. The comforting scent of him, and the feeling of his big hands rubbing steady circles on your back, is grounding in the extreme.

Though you’re soothed, you can tell when he’s thinking. His jaw tightens, just a little bit. As if he’s chewing the words. Trying to decide whether to swallow them or let them slip out.

“I think I’d um, I’d retire.”

Slip out.

“You’d what?” You try to keep the surprise out of your voice but it filters through.

“I’d probably um, I’d probably look into teaching. I don’t think I could ever leave our children. Not,” He sniffles, and you know without looking that there’s a tear making its way down his cheek, “Not when there’s a chance I might not come home. I couldn’t do that to them.”

“Okay,” You say, “I’d support you whatever you wanted to do. I was only surprised because I know how much you love the job.”

“You love yours too. I’d never expect you to give it up so we could have children. Not unless you wanted to.”

Of course that’s part of it.

“I know,” You reply, “I know. I guess I wasn’t thinking about the practicality of it. But I know what you mean.”

He swallows, “It’s more than that. I just um. I’d want to be around. All the time.”

There’s a beat of silence, and you can tell there’s more he’s not saying. You adorn his Adam’s apple with a soft kiss, and he lets out a puffy exhale.

“I um, I never thought that this is something I’d get to want. Kids and a wife and a family. Now that it is, now that I get the chance,” He trails off, swallowing, “Now that I have that chance I would never do anything to risk losing it. Or missing a single moment of it. I want to give them a happy childhood. I want to teach them to play chess and watch cartoons on a Sunday and just give them...give them a lifetime of good memories. Not a lifetime of them staring at the door wondering if I’m going to make it home.”

He wants to give them what he never had.

Shifting, you adjust, looking him in the eyes. A tear is making its way down his cheekbone, one you thumb away. Cradling his face in your hands, you can’t help but smile. They aren’t sad tears like you’d expected, his eyes gleam with pure adoration. He’s not sad about the past. He’s happy about the future.

The realisation brings a tear to your eyes, and you can barely get the words out past the lump in your throat, “Maybe one day we’ll be waking up on Saturdays to take our kids to the park.”

The love in his eyes is mirrored and magnified in your own. You can’t be certain whether it’s that or your words that coax another tear out of his eye, but it’s barely passed the bridge of his nose before he’s giving you the biggest wateriest smile, “I’m looking forward to that day.”

So am I.

Next part: N is for New Place (i promise it’s onwards and upwards from here!!)

#the a-z of spencer reid

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laketaj24 · 4 years

Text

Marked II

Author’s Note: Hello, people! I hope all is well out there! Here is a second part of Marked! I hope that you enjoy it! Let me know what you think! My taglist, requests are open, but I’m slow with the writing here lately. I apologize!

Pairings: Alpha!Henry Cavill x Omega!Reader

Warnings: Dub!Con, Masturbation, Omegavers, Smut

Henry Cavill M A S T E R L I S T

The room smelled of fresh pine, maple syrup, and eggs, a delightful thing to wake up to in your own house and not a stranger’s. You shift beneath the red covers, sitting up in the bed and staring at the plate in front of you. Henry had cooked; there was no walk of shame when breakfast was involved. “About time, you woke up.” The groveled voice of Henry sent sensations down your body, last night still lingered down your body. The kisses on your thighs, the bite mark on your chest. Everything raged for him.

“I didn’t mean to stay the night.” But you were not going to apologize, the sheets were soft, the food was hot, and so the hell was he. The plate called your name, and you answered, picking up the white plate with a blue rim and the fork.

“I don’t mind, I called into work, had some other things I wanted to do.” Henry cocked his thick brow and smiled. “You seemed to sleep pretty well.”

“Yeah.” You started with the bacon, savoring the sweet and salty flavor before clearing your throat. There was no doubt something in you had changed in one night. “So, where do we start?”

“I’m sorry?” He looked confused, but you were not convinced.

“You bit me…” The oversized shirt hung from your shoulder, already making it easy for you to show him the bit mark mid-chest. “Called me… omega,” You swallowed the remaining bits of your bacon.

“That’s what you are, omega.” Henry was a well-toned type of animal, his muscles flexed with each move he made, and he was bulk. And now, for some reason, the only thing you could think when he was near you was how his weight would feel on top of you.

“I don’t know what that is, and nor do I want to hear about it. I want a formal apology for you biting me, and I want you to put on a damn shirt.”

“Am I bothering you?”

“Yes.” You started on the eggs, closing your eyes as you savored the first bite swirling with butter and just the right amount of seasonings. “Thanks for breakfast.”

“You’re welcome.” He shook his head. “Get some clothes on, pet.”

“Pet?”

“Yep.” He turned from the room and headed down the hallway that seemed narrow in comparison to him. “You have a few minutes to get dressed, and we are leaving.”

“To go?”

“Hurry up,” Henry added.

It was odd being across the street from your own home but dressing somewhere else. He had been nifty while you slept, using your keys to get clothes from you all the while hiding them from you so you could not go home. You hopped quickly in the shower, equipped with a glass door. It was evident that he was watching; you could not determine if you were pissed or happy to put on a show. The soaps appeared to be all-natural, the smell of the oils hitting your nose, adding a sense of calm to everything, even though you were anything but calm.

Henry had chosen another dress; you pandered between it being easy to access or the sight of your legs, being the reason why he chose them. Either way, you put on the ivory dress garnished with pink and yellow flowers with a smile, this dress made you think of home. There was no hope to comb your hair; he wouldn’t have known the right supplies anyhow. He waited stoically on the bed as you dressed, admiring you as a wolf would his prey, eyes narrowed and tongue sliding across his lips.

“See something you like.”

He chuckled. “That cocky attitude has to disappear before we head to the Den.”

“The Den.”

“You’ll see.” He stood from the bed, revealing the simple outfit he’d chosen for himself. A white t-shirt the clenched onto those muscles like a glove and dark denim jeans that perfectly hugged his ass. Damn if you weren’t near salivating yourself. “Come on.”

The Den, it was nowhere near the one-way street downtown, like everything else. It was ‘up the way,’ as he said three or four times when you asked Henry. He liked to sing, though every note was offkey; you wanted to watch him do it. He had not one care in the world other than you, and one day in or not, it was more than any of the other men you dated had to offer. The windows were down, and the woody smell only grew stronger the further you drove down the backroad.

“I shouldn’t trust you this much, you know?”

“And why not?” Henry glanced from the road to meet your eyes.

“You could be a killer.”

“I would have killed you already if I were a killer.”

“Some wolves like to play with their food.” You quipped.

“Touché.”

The Den appeared in your view; it was an ominous as you pictured. A cabin-like bar with people standing outside around fire pits. Country. You liked the aesthetic, wasn’t precisely sure if you wanted to be a part of it. He opened the door for you, taking your hand in his to help you step out of the truck.

“Henry.” The hulk of a man walked over to the two of you, burly and covered with hair.

“Jason.” He smiled.

“Omega.” He bit his lip, “She is nearly in heat.”

“I know,” Henry whispered as he walked towards the door, he left you standing alone while he started to converse with Jason.

Every free eye in the area was on you, and the whispers had started. “Scared?” The friendly voice startled you, but he was there to catch you, chocolate eyes met yours as soon as you found your balance.

“No, for what…” You shrugged. “I don’t know these people.”

“But they know you, omega.”

“Okay… what the fuck is an omega?”

“Well, you’ve been marked.” He pointed at the bite mark on your chest. “Your scenting too.”

“Get the fuck away from her.” Henry barked, and the guy scrambled away with his hands up. “Why didn’t you come with me?”

“You left me standing here!” You growled. “Thanks for that, by the way.”

They all looked as if you had broken the law, disgruntled and in awe, everyone but Henry. “You have a fucking cub’s mouth.”

“Cub? Look fucker and all of your equally fucked up friends…”

“She needs training.”

“Enough, Y/N.” Henry was in front of you in a few seconds, he pulled at your arm moving you up the steps and into The Den. And the inside appeared not to be what you thought, there wasn’t a dancefloor, a stage or even a full bar. There was a small bar, no dance floor, just a long hallway leading to a few different rooms.

“Henry.” You whispered.

“Shut up.” He answered once you were to the room. He pushed you inside, and there was nothing fancy about the place, just a bed.

“Why am I here?”

“Because,” he touched your neck. You’d started sweating. The drip was on his fingertips and took them in his mouth, closing his eyes and then growling. “You’re mine.”

“Bullshit excuse, and also no the fuck I’m not.”

“I marked you.” Henry touched your chest. “I made sure the entire pack knew to fuck off…”

“Pack? Omega.”

“Yeah, piece it together.” He moved towards you, shrouding you in his height, his presence in general. His eyes flickered amber, and those beautiful canines made their appearance. Henry had made the thing known; he took what he wanted. He delved his fingers under the line of your panties and groaned. Why the fuck did you go weak when he was around you? They pulled the delicate fabric, and his teeth nipped at your neck. His tongue swiped the sweat, and you felt him hard behind you, instinctively you pushed your ass on him, and to your surprise, he stepped back.

“Since you have no fucking manners, I’ll make you wait.”

The sunset after a few hours, the golden hue of the room faded into the dark, and the only thing that could genuinely be heard was the rustle of the leaves outside the window door along with the occasional bustle of laughter from the men outside. It was no light, or at least you could not find one, you even clapped twice with hopes it would trigger the lights to come on, but there was nothing, just darkness. There was an innate part of you that wanted to try to break down the door and run, but from the looks of the guys in the house, they would not have allowed that to pass unnoticed.

There was no service in the god forbidden place, any call you’d tried would not even ring. You’d given up two hours ago, but your phone had not been rendered useless yet. Music was your only comfort in the place.

The smell of honeysuckles was prominent, a scent that you hadn’t smelled in years. The sweet floral scent was soothing; you stretched out on the bed, parting your legs. Hunger. It had been a while since you truly valued yourself, took the time to give yourself pleasure. This was good as time as any. Your fingers start first exploring the smooth slope of your legs, the curves and dimples all accentuated by the slow pace you’d made for yourself. You’d enjoy yourself, even if he didn’t want to.

You were already wet, pushing your legs together for a moment, and you had drenched your panties and tossed them aside. Moments of last night flashed before your eyes, Henry had a way about him, that fucking muscled body over yours was the first. He had a way of commanding what he wanted, and he hadn’t said one fucking word. You traced over the sore areas of your thighs, the place he’d been anchored in for half the night, and then to your pussy. You were swollen at the thought, pulsing for him. You dipped your fingers into yourself, noticing how you dripped down the curve of your ass without even starting. Fuck.

The slim fingers plunged into you, and you moaned. Fuck, you should have been doing this from the start. The melodic sounds of the Summer Walker filled your ears; Girls Need Love fuck the words the song gave a feeling that was unmoved. Your nipples hardened against your bra, feeling fuller as you gripped them with your free hand and plunged back into your pussy with the other. Your walls were tighter, hungrier than you’d ever noticed. You slipped out, and you wasted no time pressing them upon your clit, rubbing in planned circles. If your clit was a safe, you knew the combination to get you where you needed to be.

Maybe you didn’t notice the door open because your eyes snapped shut, perhaps you didn’t give a fuck who saw you, but the bed dipped down as Henry sat at the edge of it. You couldn’t stop, him being around made it mandatory that you came. You rode your fingers, pushing them back into you, winding your waist before finding a rhythm that suited you.

You didn’t halt when you felt him in between your legs, the heat building as you worked harder, and then it boiled over when his long tongue met your clit. You came, the cum gushed out of you, and your head swirled. The bed was wet, but Henry didn’t seem to mind. He leaned closer, sucking at your clit and then lapping up the sweet slick that came from you. You knew now that the distinct earthy smell was him, as it intensified the closer he got.

His inhaled. “Making you mine was the easy part.” He said.

“You didn’t ask.” You said through labored breath before yelping again.

“An alpha doesn’t ask an omega. He claims her… is that not what you want?”

“I want to know more about you,” Your confession was drenched in lust, your fingers pulled at the curls in his head.

“You’re so sweet Y/N.” He sucked at your clit again, this time riling you to nearly cum again just from that, but he didn’t. You were wound tight, nerves tingled throughout your whole body, and all you wanted was to have him inside you again. Henry cupped your breasts, squeezing them to near pain and then releasing.

You sucked air through your teeth as he moved over the mark on your chest, and only moans can escape after. He tugged at your nipples, twisting, and edging the pain, then he would stop. Lap the juices from your pussy up again and laugh when you whimpered in defeat. He infuriated you.

“Don’t you want me to fuck you, Y/N.”

“Please.” Was it proper to beg, plead for this man to give you what you wanted? “Please, Henry. Fuck.”

In response, he hovers over you and plants a soft kiss to your lips. You could taste yourself; the sweetness resembles the same honeysuckles that had filled the air. What the fuck was going on? His mouth brushed down to your taut nipples, the beard tickling while he sucking at them for a moment, and then his teeth made an appearance biting until you squirmed away and then moving to the next. “I want to mark you again.” He whispered. “I want every fucking person in that room over there to know that this sweet pussy is mine.”

“Do it.” You moaned.

He grinned down at you; the sly smile was full of satisfaction and a carnal lust you’d never experienced. “I will, pet.” He pushed your legs further apart and found the spot that suits him well. He had on no pants, the heat of his heavy cock hung right on your thigh, there was no patience in you. You reached down, taking the weighted cock in your hand then lined him up to enter you, one hard stroke would be all it took to get there.

“Fuck me.” You begged. “Please.”

Henry obliged, thrusting into you so hard the headboard knocked back in response. The mewl that came from you only ignited him more. He slammed into you again and again. It was a moot point to beg for harder or faster because he knew when you wanted it. His pace was untamed, animalistic as he pinned your hands above your head and fucked you.

“Please, don’t stop.” You panted on the precipice of another orgasm. You’d lay beneath him all day and get fucked if it felt this exhilarating. “Please.”

Henry didn’t stop; he wasn’t sure he would ever be able to. Never had he been inside someone that fit him this perfectly. He wanted to mark you again, make you know he was serious when he said you were his. He flipped you on top of him, and he slipped out. You were so wet it was hard not to slip out. He didn’t mind. He liked it.

You didn’t pause the fucking, mounting him and placing your hands on his chest to anchor you. You bounced on him watching that perfect mouth form an O each time you sunk and took more of him than he thought you could make. He pushed the limits fucking you back, and all you could do was throw your head back and take it all.

His moans were louder now; he gripped your hips, guiding you over his cock, he wanted this to last longer, fuck you until you couldn’t stand was his goal since you could handle it. Your pussy clenched around him like a velvet glove, and a scream erupted from you. He was swelling; you loved it when he got bigger. You didn’t even think that it was fucking possible, and here he was fucking growing harder, longer, and bigger inside of you.

“You want this cum in you, pet?”

You shook your head vigorously riding the high of your climax, plus the way he felt inside of you when he came was unexplainable. “Please.”

Henry slammed up into you, knocking you forward so that you were on his chest. He loved to grip your ass to make you meet his strokes. He was fucking you faster, growling like the animal he had grown to be with you, and then it happened again. His cock swelled, he locked into you, and he came with a carnal noise that triggered you again. Fuck he was perfect if this was what it meant to be marked… then you wanted it every fucking day.

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#henry cavill #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x black reader #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill fic #henry cavill fan fiction #laketa j writes #alpha!henry cavill x reader #alpha!henry cavill

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caffeinated-cryptid · 4 years

Text

ashes, ashes.

10.8k | AO3 link | tags/tws: intrulogical, serial killer/deity of death au, lots of death (murder, mentions of a previous suicide attempt, and brief descriptions of animal death), injury, violence, swearing, morally grey characters, crime.

““You’re not supposed to be able to see me.” Logan blurted out with a start, eyes wide and looking at Remus like he had just killed a guy in front of him. Oh wait-

“Mamma always told me I was special.” Remus replied with a woozy grin, leaving back against the cool bricks of the alleyway. Seeing things that weren’t there was a new level of fucked-up for his brain, but hopefully that was just a side effect of hitting his head and not something he’d have to take pills for later. Either way, at least this spectre was pretty to look at. Trauma had its benefits.

“You think a deity of death is pretty?” Logan asked wryly, cutting through the stream of subconscious babble he’d accidentally spilled into the frigid night air. “I’d be flattered, if that didn’t sound like such a red flag.””

(aka: remus chases death like it's his favourite pastime, since it means he gets to see logan again. understandably, logan has some objections to this.)

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

Case 1: the man in the alley.

The first time Remus and Logan met, it was more or less a complete accident.

As a part-time warehouse operative slash freelance artist, Remus had a lot of free time between jobs, and one of the things he enjoyed doing most while waiting for his next gig to come around was spray-painting obscene images into the side of alleys.

His latest project was a 7-foot tall purple unicorn with generous proportions. Pretty tasteful by his standards, all things considered.

If nothing else, the piece of work would give passers-by a topic of conversation, and that was always something Remus aimed to inspire with his art. These topics, however, often happened to be the ‘why’ variety. Most commonly, the old classic (and his personal favourite): ‘why are you like this?’.

Regrettably, the evening passed pretty quickly with no curious pedestrians passing by his alley and starting up such a conversation. By the time Remus finished, it was past midnight and by now the only people around were the regular nightlife-- primarily the local college kids who had recently come home and were enjoying their break from classes, and adults like himself who were trying to chase away their loneliness with some other kind of high.

...Woo, and that’s enough depressing thoughts for tonight. Remus declared to himself. After all, he had a new piece to admire! Stepping back, he spent a moment taking in the completed artwork by the light of his phone’s torch before deciding it was as perfect as it could get. He’d come back later and get a picture during the daytime to show off to his friends, so for now he begun preparing to leave by packing his paint cans into his backpack.

It was when he had collected the last can of magenta from the ground that he felt something grab the back of his coat hood. Remus had no time to process the fact that someone had snuck into the alleyway before he was shoved against the same wall he'd painted his mural on, coming face-to-face with a hooded man waving a rather pathetic-looking pocket knife at him.

“Give me your money. Now.” The man demanded.

Remus blinked in delayed surprise. Usually he was the one being the creep in the alleyway. He had never expected to come across an actual creep. Heck, this situation felt like it was pulled straight out of an old PSA with how stereotypical it was.

“What?” He blurted out unthinkingly, because of that exact train of thought.

“You heard me! I want you to get your wallet and hand over everything you’ve got.”

What an unfortunate victim this man has chosen.

“You think I have any money to my name? I’m practically the starving artist every parent warns their kid about becoming.” Remus said with a huff of amusement.

“Don’t try to bullshit me!” The hand clutching the front of his coat tugged him forward before violently slamming him back against the bricks. The back of Remus’ head ricochetted off them roughly with the sudden movement, and the small grin he had been wearing quickly faded with flash of pain and the realization he may actually be in trouble.

“I saw the paint you’ve got in your bag,” The man continued over his dawning concern. “Somebody who’s broke wouldn’t have all that.”

Remus’ thoughts halted for a second. His bag…! He knew the paint can he was holding onto for dear life wouldn’t do much in the way of self-defense given that it was practically empty, but a whole bag of them? Hitting this guy with that much weight would make him think twice about trying to stab him, at least.

“Okay, okay. You got me, I’m rich as hell. Just let me get it, alright? My wallet's in there.”

The man gave him a skeptical look, but stepped back slightly, continuing to hold the weapon in his direction. “I know how to throw knives. Try to run and you’ll have a hole in your back quicker than an onset stroke.”

Yikes, and Remus thought he was bad at metaphors. He didn’t even need Virgil here to tell him that that made no sense. Still, he grinned placatingly. “Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye: I won’t run.”

Finally, bad-metaphor guy let down his guard and allowed Remus to side-step around him. He walked a few paces towards where he dropped his backpack in his initial shock, putting the magenta spray in before he picked it up by the straps. True to his word, he didn't run; instead he swung around on his heel, slamming the full force of his hardback sketchbooks and cans of spray paint into the face of the hooded man.

He instantly dropped his knife, falling backwards and clutching his nose as blood erupted from it. Under the low-lighting of the street lamp, Remus was transfixed for a second, feeling like he was in one of those gritty r-rated movies he watched with his babysitter as a kid. The moment was ruined when he realized that 1) the man was approaching again very quickly, and 2) he couldn’t get the momentum quick enough to swing his bag around and hit him a second time.

Before he knew it, Remus had accidentally let go of the makeshift weapon when he was tackled to the ground, wind completely knocked out of him as the two of them collided against cobblestone moistened with rain.

“You fucking bastard.” The guy hissed furiously. His voice was nasally now that his nose was crooked and broken-looking, and Remus almost wanted to poke fun of him for it until he felt two hands wrap around his throat and start to choke him. “‘Could’ve just made things easy, but now you’re gonna die with all the other trash.”

Why? Remus wanted to ask. Over the 7 dollars and 15 cents he had?

But as he tried to tear away the vice grip on his neck, he couldn’t find the voice to talk back, even though the seriousness of the situation was hitting him like a freight train. Maybe it was his own fault for escalating things instead of playing along. Go figure, he had overestimated his own abilities after years being the off-putting one; the person others thought they had to watch over their shoulder for. Either that, or maybe it was the fact that his wallet carried more sentimental value with it than monetary. It was small and made of orange ducktape, but it carried so many things that Remus wanted to protect; a photo of his family, one of Virgil's guitar picks, the ticket to the last Tenacious D he went to, and of course, the receipt for his first condom purchase.

His mind flashed to his friends and family, and he wondered how they’d feel about this; him dying because of some dumb robber in a dumb alleyway because he was painting his dumb artwork. That was hardly the kind of death one could look back on and regard with pride (Hell if it wasn't funny to imagine how everyone will react to the news, though). But as he focused on the face above him, he realized with some panic that the grip wasn’t loosening, even as he could feel his lungs burn and a near-soothing feeling telling him to just let go.

As a final act of desperation to save himself from becoming a wholly embarrassing funeral eulogy instead of having a rockstar’s death in his 40s like he always imagined for himself, he patted the ground frantically, looking for a loose rock or something to stop this with. That’s when he felt it; the slightly warm plastic handle of the knife the guy had been holding. Remus’ heart pounded as he realized what he needed to do, and he barely even considered the repercussions of the action before he was plunging the knife into the side of the guy’s neck.

Finally, the grip around his throat loosened as the guy gasped, his expression flickering back and forth between anger and shock. Remus ripped the knife away, inhaling air greedily when the sudden action caused the man to loosen his grip and move off of him, trying to cover the stab wound with his hands and failing.

Remus quickly scrambled back and pulled himself up the wall, watching and waiting for the guy to fall still. He did, after what felt like a few minutes, and Remus didn’t know whether to cry or laugh. He’d just killed a man. It was self-defence, but still… even the morbid thoughts he had over the years couldn't have prepared him for what it would have actually felt like to go through with any of it.

In that moment of pause, his injuries caught up with him as both his head and neck begun to ache. He was so disoriented that he barely even noticed the third person standing in the alley until they spoke up.

“Well. I didn’t see that coming.”

Remus snapped his head towards the source of the voice, and immediately regretted it when the hasty motion made him dizzy. The only reason he didn’t immediately jump into fight mode was because of the unusually casual way the voice had spoken. Beyond that, the figure he saw standing a short distance away didn’t really… look like a regular person. Beyond the odd formal clothing that had no discernable modern style to it and the shock of white hair that could only be achieved with hella bleach, his skin was a cool grey like a cadaver and he had a ghostly appearance to him; transparent and misty around the edges.

Definitely not the sort of thing Remus expected to see, but he was always one to accommodate the unexpected.

“...You and me both. My only goal for today was to draw unicorn porn.” Remus replied lightly, once he decided it wouldn't hurt to entertain whatever was currently happening.

The figure turned, startling at the sight of Remus staring directly at him.

“You’re not supposed to be able to see me.” He blurted out with wide eyes, looking at Remus like he had just killed a guy in front of him. Oh wait-

“You think a deity of death is pretty?” The man (deity???) asked wryly, cutting through the stream of subconscious babble he’d accidentally spilled into the frigid night air. “I’d be flattered, if that didn’t sound like such a red flag.”

"I can't believe my own brain is kinkshaming me." Remus whined, slipping down slightly as the worn-down soles of his boots lost their grip on the concrete for a second.

Death frowned, until a metaphorical lightbulb lit over his head. "Ah- you think you're hallucinating. Well, that's not an unfair assumption. Keep believing it, by all means."

"That doesn't sound like something a hallucination would say." Remus pointed out.

"Well then, I'll gladly prove my non-existence by disappearing." Death said as he took a step towards the body.

"Wait!" Remus called before he could figure out why. The ghostly figure stopped, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. Remus’ composure slipped as his eyes darted between the body and Death. "I...I need to know that this is real. That I'm not making this up. This feels like something I'd dream, but…"

His hand clenched around the knife, feeling the squelch of blood and the tremor of his hand. Despite the mixed signals he was currently getting on the state of his sanity, it felt solid and real, and Remus wasn’t sure what to make of that.

"Fuck. Please tell me! Am I being as messed up as usual or did I really just kill someone?"

Death’s eyes softened. "You did. This is real."

"Well shit. Okay…" Remus looked back at the body with a deep resignation. He wondered if he should do something about that. Probably not; that would look even more incriminating.

"...If it makes you feel better, he has hurt people in situations like this before, and completely unnecessarily; his only motive was to achieve a rush.”

That did make Remus feel better, actually.

"Good. I’m glad I killed a piece of shit and not someone down on their luck." Remus sighed, eyeing the spectral figure. "Speaking of, if this is real, then I guess that means you are too right?"

Any sympathy on Death's place quickly faded as he was caught out. "Erm-"

"It's cool." Remus leaned his head back again. "Talking to a cute ghost man? Sounds like a typical Thursday night for me."

Actually, this was the furthest thing from a typical Thursday night for Remus, but he didn’t want to admit that to the cute ghost man and risk looking uncool.

"You shouldn't get acquainted with it. Seeing me is hardly a good thing." Death replied, though his cheeks were distinctly a darker grey.

"Aww- don't sell yourself short. I love your work!" Remus waved away vaguely. He always had a strange relationship with death in a way that others didn’t; always the first to laugh at a funeral or smile instead of grieve. That was probably why he felt so comfortable right now. “Besides, we’ll all be food for the dirt and worms eventually, anyway. Why get uncomfortable with it?"

Death met his eyes again, seeming slightly more firm. “Perish those thoughts, it's hardly your time yet."

Remus pouted. "It's still inevitable, though. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy I didn’t die today and got to meet you instead, but what’s so bad about something that’s going to happen either way?”

“I’m starting to think I was right by judging your attitude as a red flag.” Death muttered.

“But I'm right aren't I?” Remus prodded.

“Indeed.” Death begrudgingly conceded. “And do you know just how inevitable it is? Approximately 2 people die per second; 106 per minute. There have been 6435 events of armed conflict in the past year alone, and over 690 million people who are undernourished as we speak. Beyond that, there are even more people losing their lives to case-by-case natural events and incidents. So if you’d be so kind, do not be so eager to create more work for me.”

Remus absorbed that information, tilting his head. “Despite all that, you’re still here?”

“...I am.” Death agreed after a heavy pause, in the same manner most would admit their own defeat. “I’ll admit, I’m not used to… talking so much. It’s an unusual feeling, but it’s been pleasant, I suppose.”

“Death likes my company.” Remus laughed. “That’s gotta be saying something.”

Death rolled his eyes. “My name is Logan, not Death.”

“Huh. I’m Remus.” Remus replied, a little baffled. He didn’t expect a deity to have such a normal name.

“Remus ‘Tsukio’ Kaneshiro, I already know of you. We’ve met before.”

Remus’ bafflement only grew. “We have? I think I’d remember meeting someone like you.”

“You wouldn't; you were unconscious. It was after you overdosed on cold medicine. Thankfully your parents got you to the hospital on time before I could do my job, but I remember it being a close call.” Logan looked at him knowingly.

“...Oh.” Remus laughed nervously. He definitely remembered that. Finding out you could overdose on a lot of common household items was pretty dangerous for him to learn as a teenager, and he’d never forget how furious his entire family was with him for being so reckless. He never knew how to tell them that it wasn’t quite the accident they assumed it to be (needless to say, his adolescent years were pretty shitty to him, being the outsider in this town in more ways than one). Thankfully, the taste of cold medicine had become too repulsive for him to try anything like that again.

“...I am glad you’re alright. It’s always unfortunate when a life ends too soon.”

“Well…thanks. This has been pretty trippy, so I’m glad I met you too, Logan.”

Logan hummed and looked towards the end on the alleyway. “By the way, you should think about leaving soon. There’s a group of people approaching us.”

Shit, Remus had almost forgotten that he had just committed a crime. Given how awful this scene looked, there was a big chance he’d get thrown into jail for this if he got caught. But at the same time, he was almost hesitant to leave behind the spectre that had enchanted his heart within a few minutes, even if his mind was still trying to catch up with the overload of information.

“Why would you help me?” He asked quickly and somewhat suspiciously.

Just as Logan finished his business with the body, he looked at him over his shoulder with an almost sly expression. “You seem interesting, Remus. I’d hate for you to lose your life over someone so unworthy of one.”

And with that, Logan disappeared like a cloud of fog. Remus stood there transfixed, until he remembered Logan’s warnings and snatched up his bag, shoving the knife into his pocket and dashing into the night.

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

Case 2: the man who couldn't leave well enough alone.

The next time Remus and Logan met, it was slightly less of an accident, but fuck if the guy didn’t deserve it.

When Remus got home after the night he first saw Logan, he was more grateful than ever that he lived in such a run-down part of town. There were barely any security cameras to look out for, let alone people who were willing to be out during the early hours of the morning.

He was able to slip into his apartment complex unseen, avoiding his early-bird roommate long enough to wash away his crimes in the shower.

After that, he fell into his bed, completely unable to process everything that had just happened. So instead he fell asleep and left the deep thinking to his future self.

As expected, he needed plenty of time to collect his thoughts. First of all, he knew he hadn’t hallucinated the whole thing because after weeks and months of taking it as easy as possible, he hadn’t seen anything else as strange as a personification of death named Logan. Logan...what kind of name even was that? It felt like the name of a teacher, not something that should be as grim and macabre as Remus himself.

But that was the other thing; Remus couldn’t get the thought of Logan out of his head. He was like the angel who had come down to bless him in a moment of weakness, saving him from further misfortune. He knew he had little to no chance of seeing their deity again, but that didn’t stop him from plaguing his mind constantly.

Remus figured the best chance he’d probably get at seeing Logan again was to become involved with death once more. His mind immediately jumped to animals, the easiest targets; he pictured slipping into a farm late at night and slitting the throat of one of the sheep, going to a pet store and buying a hamster for the night before ‘accidentally’ leaving it in a box to suffocate, picking up a stray from the street and snapping its neck quickly. But just as soon as those thoughts came to him, he waved them away with a grimace. He wouldn’t be able to go through with any of that, even for Logan.

People had always talked about him like he was a serial killer in training. They would keep a wary eye when he picked up sharp objects and ask his brother if Remus had ever hurt one of their pets as kids, as if because he had unconventional ideas, he was a complete sadist towards the innocent. (And yes, perhaps he did have thoughts of that nature too, but they’d always fill him with sickness because he fucking loved the pet dogs they had as kids, damn it). In any case, he knew that going through with those ideas would only be proving those people right, that he was a dangerous individual who’d murder an innocent creature just for someone his brain maybe made up.

...Perhaps he was losing his mind after all. What was he doing, plotting out the best way to see Death? If anyone else could hear his thoughts, they’d think him half-mad or suicidal. It seemed like the best thing so do was to try to push this out of his mind, so eventually, that's what he did. He wasn’t so good at that usually; his mouth ran a mile a minute and the people who knew him would often say that his brain-mouth filter was non-existent. But this felt like something he’d like to keep for himself, especially when news of the murder made it onto the local news, presumed to be the outcome of ‘gang activity’ simply because the victim was successful and had a loving family and what else could explain this?

He decided to not think about making plans anymore, and he only thought about Logan when his mind was otherwise unoccupied. It stayed that way until the very next week when he found out about the situation with his roommate’s ex.

Remus didn’t have many people in the world who were willing to put up with him, but the one’s that did, he cherished dearly. So when Nadia, the woman he’d describe as belonging among the Valkyries (if only she could get past her deal of not wanting to hurt a fly), came to him looking uncharacteristically shaken and upset, Remus felt something in him snap.

She told Remus about how her ex-boyfriend was following her to her workplace and making threats on her life. He’d even begun showing up outside their apartment late at night in an attempt at intimidation, and that detail alone pissed him off considering he’d been too in his head to even notice.

“All because I decided I deserved better.” Nadia told him tearily. She was so strong usually, both physically and emotionally, so seeing her so close to crying felt like a punch to the gut. “I just want for him to be gone… But James would probably kill me before I could even file a restraining order.”

“What if he was gone?” Remus blurted out. “Hypothetically.”

Nadia blinked at him, wiping a stray tear. “Honestly? I think the world would be a better place. But that’s never going to happen.”

Remus nodded. “Right. Of course. Do you still have his number, by any chance?”

Remus’ plan was simple: Nadia would call her ex and ask him to come over to ‘reconcile’, and when he did, Remus would confront him. Scare him enough to stay away for good. He was pretty great at being intimidating when he wanted to that the both of them assumed it would work out.

Well, James came as planned. Their apartment complex had one massive security flaw in that anyone could get in without keys or permission, so the only clue Remus got that James was coming was the sound of footsteps bouncing off the walls of the stairwell. Remus stood upright and waited, until he saw the top of James’ head slowly ascending up the stairs, pausing on the second-top step.

“You’ve got to be shitting me.” James scoffed disbelievingly as Remus moved in front of him. “Did Nadia seriously send out the guard dog? What? Suddenly too afraid to talk for herself?”

Remus considered barking at him in response, but considering how James was way above the common creep in terms of persistence, he crossed his arms instead and glared steadily.

“Hell yeah she did. You should know why, given how much of a low-life asshole you’ve been acting all week. When are you going to give up the big guy act, huh? Curley called and he wants his complex back.”

James, in all of his 5-foot-no-thoughts glory, only squinted as the insult went over his head.

“...I knew I never fuckin’ liked you. Don’t get involved in our relationship, you little freak.” James tried to pass him, and Remus quickly blocked him, taking out the knife he’d stolen months ago.

“Take another step and this is going in your goddamn eye.” Remus raised his voice, confident that most of their neighbours were already out at work. “You’re not going near Nadia ever again, do you hear me?”

“Or what?! What’ll you do, Kaneshiro? Stab me? Put the toothpick away and step aside, for god’s sake. This is embarrassing, even for you.”

The two of them stood in a standstill, staring each other down as the echo from James’ exclamation faded out.

“...Fine.” Remus said finally. He slipped the knife back into his pocket, and James smirked smugly until Remus grabbed the front of his shirt instead. “It’ll be more fun to do this, anyway.”

With that he shoved James backwards, who quickly lost his footing and fell down the long and narrow flight of stairs. He tumbled for few moments, hitting each step, until he landed on the ground floor with a distant thump.

Remus stared after him, preparing for James to get up and start making a scene like he always did when he didn’t get his way. He didn’t.

Frowning, Remus descended the stairs, and as he drew closer to the slumped-over body, he noticed the puddle of blood around James’ head and the odd way he’d landed.

“Damn.” Remus commented under his breath. “Nadia’s going to kill me.”

He heard a sigh somewhere ahead of him, and fearing someone had walked in on his compromising position, Remus quickly glanced up, excuse at the ready.

“It was an accident-!” He exclaimed, before he realized it was Logan standing there, looking between James and Remus with a pinched expression.

“I know you pushed him, Remus. That’s not exactly what the law would define as an ‘accident’.”

For a second, Remus was starstruck (and opting to ignore the consequences of his actions). “You remember me.”

“Of course I do. I didn’t expect to see you again so soon, though.”

That almost sounded like an accusation, so Remus held his hands up defensively. “Hey, in my defence he was just asking to die. The dude's a dick!”

Logan sighed. “Regardless, you shouldn't go around killing people. Sooner or later you’ll get caught.”

“Well, I’m 1 for 1 so far! But if you’d rather me not get in trouble… Have any tips on how to cover this?” Remus joked, winking.

Logan frowned at him before he truly considered it, looking around at the scene thoughtfully. “...Double check to make sure you left no evidence. Move quickly, before anybody stumbles across the scene. And if you have time, plant something which will make this look more like an accident-- for instance, a spill on the stairs.”

Remus’ eyes widened. “I wasn’t expecting actual tips. Holy shit- okay.”

He went over to check the body, feeling his cheeks heat up. He absolutely should not be getting flustered over advice on how to cover up a murder, yet here he was.

“I feel like you shouldn’t be encouraging this.” Remus said jokingly as he smoothed out the creases on the front of James’ shirt. “Didn’t you say something about having more work to do? Who knows, you might be giving me a new hobby.”

Remus laughed. Logan didn’t. When he glanced up, the deity was frowning.

“Perhaps not. Forget what I said; I shouldn’t be interfering in matters like this. I shouldn’t even be appearing to you now.”

“Woah, woah, woah. What’s the matter? I thought you liked talking.” Remus hastily stood upright, furrowing his eyebrows.

“I- regardless of my personal feelings, I have a job to do. I can’t allow myself to become so partial over one human.” Logan replied, rubbing at the crease between his eyebrows.

“Why? What’s the worst that could happen?!” Remus argued.

“You could cheat death, for starters.”

“You already know how I feel about that.” Remus whined. “I’ll off myself when the time comes, if it’ll make you feel better.”

“Don’t-” Logan exclaimed, before he reigned himself back in. “Just. No. You’re supposed to go naturally. Neither you or I should interfere with that.”

Remus frowned. He wasn’t so sure he liked the thought of such a boring death. If anything, he wanted to go out in a blaze of glory. Otherwise, he’d be just another body no one would remember-- like loverboy over there.

“That means no more meetings like this.” Logan continued on.

“But what if I want to see you again?” Remus muttered. He looked across the room to Logan and found him wearing a similar downtrodden expression, until it grew serious.

“You’ll just have to deal with that, because we were never supposed to meet in the first place. I have a duty to fulfil and you have a life to live. Our paths are as parallel as can be.”

“This is bullshit, Logan.” Remus said, but he didn’t argue any further. Not when Logan walked around him to complete his business. Not when he prepared to leave, either.

“Don’t do this again.” Logan said finally, giving him a stern glare. “I mean it.”

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

Case 3: the woman in the streets.

The next time Remus and Logan met, Logan was starting to think Remus was making a habit of this after all.

In Remus’ defence, he totally wasn’t.

Logan’s parting words just wouldn’t leave his head. It was even worse than last time; the knowledge that he could kill anyone and get to see Logan again plagued him, and he found himself pulling away from his family and friends after the questioning from the police was over and done with.

They were all worried for him, but especially Nadia who knew exactly what he did and assumed it was because of the guilt that he was becoming uncharacteristically withdrawn. Although she was shocked at how things had escalated, she tried to apologize multiple times for letting Remus confront James, which he would always blow off. It wasn’t killing James that had gotten to him, not at all; in fact he was glad that prick was out of their hair. Rather, he grappled with the idea of never seeing Logan again, one of the few people who truly saw the worst sides of him and accepted them nonetheless.

He didn’t deal with it well.

The night of their next meeting, Remus was out drinking alone. It wasn’t something he was proud of, but he didn’t want to justify why he wanted to get absolutely wasted to his friends, so being sad and lonely for one night it was.

He had stumbled out of the bar late at night, beginning his unsteady trek home since he had accidentally spent too much money and couldn’t afford an uber to drive him back. Stepping onto the street a couple blocks from his apartment, everything was quiet until the person ahead of him crossed the road, just as a car sped around the corner and knocked them over with an awful crunch.

Remus stood in shock. He looked after the swerving car to get the licence plate, but it was already too late and they had hit the gas upon noticing him. Swearing, he stumbled over to the person left in the road.

“Shit- Are you alright? Of course not, you need an ambulance.” He was struggling to unlock his phone when he noticed how still the person-- a frail old woman-- was. It didn’t even look like she was taking breaths, though it was hard to tell through his swimming vision and the thick coat she was wearing.

With unsteady fingers, Remus pressed against the pulsepoint on her neck, and felt the moment her heartbeat stopped.

“Oh…”

And then he turned on his heel and threw up.

Death wasn’t supposed to bother him like this. He had always been proud of his ability to frighten others with his dismissive attitude towards life’s eventualities. But this was different. He had just watched the murder of a complete stranger right before his eyes, and there wasn't even anything he could do. What the fuck?

He didn’t even feel better when the person he’d been longing to see all night appeared right in front of him, arms crossed and ready to give a lecture.

“Again, Remus?! What did I tell you?! No more murder!” Logan threw his hands up at the sight of Remus next to the body, that was until he noticed the cause of death and Remus’ sickly appearance,

“I-I didn’t do anything this time, I swear. Logan I promised myself I wouldn’t.” He picked himself out of the gutter he had been puking into, trying to look at the deity, just so he could feel some sense of reassurance. “I thought I’d never see you again. ‘Thought I was okay with that, but I’m not. I missed you.”

Logan only stared at Remus when he began crying. He was a sappy emotional drunk when he got through the fun tipsy phase, sue him.

“...I apologize for yelling at you.” Logan said, awkwardly hovering his hand over Remus’ shoulder until it shuddered with a sob and accidentally brushed against him. Remus jolted at the cool touch, as did Logan, who quickly retreated his hand, eyes darting around worriedly.

“‘Always thought you’d be like mist.” Remus slurred, awestruck enough to forget his sadness. He reached forward to prod at Logan, who furrowed his eyebrows thoughtfully.

“I… Yes, that’s definitely strange.” Logan cleared his throat and straightened up. “In any case, you need to get off the street, report this incident, and go home. Being around so much death isn’t good for your mental health.”

“Maybe.” Remus sighed. “I quite like hanging around you, though.”

Logan pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re drunk. You’re going to feel a lot worse about seeing me in the morning, I promise.”

“I never feel bad about seeing you.” Remus said, picking up his phone from where he’d dropped it. “I only feel bad that it’ll be a long time before I get the chance to see you again.”

“...I don’t get it.” Logan replied softly after a heavy pause. “You shouldn’t want to see me at all. I’m a bad omen. You’d only ever get to meet me in times of tragedy.”

“‘Bad omen’... And I thought Emo was dramatic.” Remus chuckled weakly. “You’re not so bad, Lo. You guide people to the end. You care for them even when you have so many people to watch over. You’re opinionated and you’re easily curious when things don’t go to plan. You don’t mind when I’m weird and you’re fun to talk to. I like you.”

Logan blinked rapidly with surprise, clutching his chest. “I wish we could be having this conversation away from the recently deceased. But... I suppose I feel the same way. I still don’t know how or why you can see me, but our conversations haven’t been unpleasant.”

“Death likes my company.” Remus said, smiling softly to himself. “...You’re right though. I should probably phone this in. I just wish I could remember the licence plate… Something like XQ... ugh.”

“XQR 460.” Logan supplied helpfully.

“That’s it!” Remus cheered, sloppily kissing Logan on the cheek. “Thanks babe!”

Logan floundered for a second as Remus begun calling an ambulance, struggling to regain composure. “I hope we don’t meet like this again soon. Three times over the span of a year is already too much.”

“I don’t know.” Remus looked at Logan slyly. “I’ve always had pretty bad luck.”

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

Case 4: the bad doctor.

The next time Remus and Logan meet, it’s completely coincidental and under less stressful circumstances for once.

Well, still stressful. Just for different reasons.

Roman was in the hospital because of some dumb motorcycle crash he got into, which near-gave Remus a heart attack when he heard about because he may often ask for death these days, but not like this. Never like this.

Anyway, he was more or less alive in the end. Just a broken leg and a lot of scrapes and bruises since he always refused to wear the proper protective clothing when he went riding (due to it ‘not fitting his aesthetic', apparently. Remus assumed it was pussy talk for ‘I don’t look badass enough to pull off leather’).

Remus had stopped by to visit, bringing some of the fancy name-brand crackers Roman liked since he kept complaining about how stale and awful the hospital’s ones were, and to say hello to Virgil while xe was on shift. The three of them even managed to sit down while Virgil was on break and catch up, too. Roman and Virgil seemed glad Remus was doing a bit better after his downward spiral a couple of weeks ago, even if they didn’t mention it.

After a few hours spent catching up and teasing one another, he decided to leave Roman to get some rest. His plans for that evening were to take a load off and perhaps call for some takeout with Nadia. Honest to God, he didn’t plan on looking for any trouble.

But still, trouble found him when he noticed Logan walking the halls of the hospital, following a doctor to the elevator.

Remus double-taked. Though he shouldn’t really be surprised to see Logan here in a place with so much death, it was still odd witnessing the cloaked figure walk around normal people, none of them noticing his presence.

Remus quickly jogged over. "Logan!" He hissed under his breath.

The deity startled (startled!) before turning to him, just like the doctor he was following.

"Do you need something?" The doctor said, raising an eyebrow.

"Uhhhh, nope! Just… getting into the elevator." Remus replied, stepping in and standing next to Logan.

"Why must you have such awful timing?" Logan sighed stressfully as the elevator doors slid shut. Remus looked at him, unable to verbally reply with the doctor standing right next to them. Fortunately, his unspoken request to elaborate was picked up on.

"This doctor is going down go the morgue. I was here to see a patient that died under his care, and I noticed how death seemed to latch onto him. I got curious."

Sounds like a bad doctor, if even a deity of death was interested in him. Heh, that probably said a lot about Remus too.

Logan elaborated for Remus’ misinterpreting amused expression. "Remus, he murders patients purposefully. You should not have gotten on this elevator."

...Oh. Remus looked past Logan to the doctor, who had noticed his glances.

"...Hm, aren't you supposed to be in your room? Broken leg, road burn, lacerations?" He questioned, eyes flicking down to where he assumed Remus must be injured.

"Nope! You’re thinking of my twin. I came to visit him today." Remus responded as chipper as he could manage, suddenly a lot more unnerved knowing that this apparently dangerous doctor knew about his brother.

"Ah! I see. I did wonder how you managed to grow a full moustache in a day." The man chuckled. "Twins… quite fascinating."

Uh oh spaghetti-os. "Yeah… people say we're like two unrelated people, we’re so different." Remus laughed dismissively. It didn't seem to bother the doctor.

"Interesting… Say, a partner of mine is conducting a study on the differences in the individual psychologies of monozygotic twins. I'm sure it would please her to get more data, if you'd be interested in participating. There would be monetary compensation for your time, of course."

"This is such an unethical form of recruitment. What kind of professional are you?" Logan argued in frustration. Remus almost burst into laughter on the spot from the bizarreness of the situation, but he somehow managed to turn it into an agreeable grin instead.

"Sounds good, doc." Remus said.

"What-?!" Logan exclaimed. Remus spared him a glance, hoping it would let him know he knew what he was doing. Logan didn't look placated in the slightest.

"Excellent! I'll pass the details onto your brother and we can arrange a meeting sometime this week.”

At that moment, the elevator stopped to let a few other people on. Remus took the opportunity to head out before they could reach the basement floor.

“See you later!” He called to both the Doctor and Logan.

“REMUS!”

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

Case 4.5: the dead doctor.

The next time they meet, Remus fully expects it.

Roman asks him over text why he volunteered them for a study, and Remus makes some vague excuse like ‘sexy doctor’. Thankfully, he bought it.

Before the date sent to them by the doctor, Remus decided to do his own research first. To do so, he contacted Virgil and asked for details on the man.

After copious amount of friendly jabs (like 'oooh Remus, I didn’t know tall, straight, and boring was your type'), Virgil told him his name and not much else, given that xe wasn't exactly close with the older staff member. That was fine; Remus used the information to find online profiles, where he found contact details and photos, where he found business accounts, where he found history.

After pulling a few more strings from people that owed him one, he managed to gain access to the vital records from the hospital. It didn’t take long to discover that Logan was right, there had been a spike in deaths since the doctor, a mister 'Stacey’, had begun working there. It was a mystery how no one had noticed the pattern honestly. Weren't doctors supposed to get their licences taken away after a certain number of incidents? As he begun looking through the files more closely however, he realized that the deaths were often chalked up to accidents; small things that could have been due to anything, from mistakes during operations, to the patients overdosing on their prescribed medication, to incidents days after they’ve been discharged.

As Remus closed his laptop, he begun feeling very glad he had impulsively accepted Stacey’s offer.

The meeting ended up being scheduled for Friday evening, and by the time it rolled around, Remus was fully prepared and waiting outside of the agreed location. He dialled Roman’s number, looking out to the empty parking lot and familiarizing himself with the location.

After a few rings, Roman picked up, sounding slightly agitated. “Yes, Captain Dookey?”

Remus snickered at the old nickname-- it was practically a relic from when they played pirates as children. Perhaps Roman was feeling sentimental after his accident.

“Aye aye first mate. You should know that I’m not gonna make it to the study. I already called Dr. Stacy to let him know we’re cancelling for today, so you can stay home.”

“Really Remus? I just got ready.”

“Yeah well, you’re supposed to be resting anyway. Unless you want to drop a visit by yourself that is, but Virgil told me he’s straight, soooo...”

He heard a retching sound on the other end of the line.

“No thanks.” A sigh. “I’ll see you tomorrow then, I guess.”

“Bye, ugly.”

“Later, Rat Bastard.”

“Rats are cute, that’s not an insult. Byeee~.” Remus quickly hung up, his grin quickly fading as he took in the apartment complex.

It didn’t look like the sort of space that would house an office, but Stacey didn’t look like the type to break the Hippocratic oath either, so perhaps the world wasn’t as straight-forward as it seemed.

Slipping his phone away, Remus buzzed the number he’d been given, and it wasn’t long before the good doctor himself came down to answer the door personally.

“Remus.” Stacey almost looked surprised to see him. “Is your brother not coming?”

“Oh, no.” Remus waved a hand. “I just got off the phone with him and he told me he’s running late. He said to get started without him.”

He received a charming smile. “That works just fine. Come on in.”

Stacey led him up the stairs to his apartment, and the whole time Remus felt the weight of the kitchen knife in his pocket. When they got to the ‘office’ (which was really just a living room with minimal furnishing), he offered him a drink.

“No thanks, I’m good.” Remus said, looking around. “...Seems pretty empty in here for an office.”

“Ah… Yes, unfortunately my colleague is having renovations done in her usual space, so we’ll have to collect our data here. I hope that doesn’t bother you.”

A fair enough explanation on the surface, and one his brother would probably accept if he was here, but Remus wasn’t nearly as trusting as Roman was. Nor was he as ignorant to the true purpose of this meeting.

“I see… That makes sense. Or at least it would, if I didn’t already know all about your dirty little secrets.”

Stacey glanced up from where he’d been looking for a pen. “...Pardon?”

Remus smiled back; a grin with all teeth. “You have quite a few skeletons in your closet, doc. Even for a fine medical professional like yourself.”

The doctor very carefully didn’t react to that. "My apologies, do you have the right person? To the best of my knowledge we've only spoken once."

"Yeah." Remus agreed. "And once is all it took. I found out about all those little accidents that follow you, doctor. Weird how many times your patients pass away from nicked veins and potassium chloride overdoses, hm?"

The only outward response Stacey gave was the clenching of his fists. Subtle, but Remus noticed it. "Be careful Mr. Kaneshiro, because that sounds an awfully lot like a baseless accusation. People sue for that, you know."

"I don't doubt it. But you already know it's not so baseless, don't you? You know exactly what I’m talking about, which is why you invited us here to a shady apartment late at night, no colleague in sight."

"Remus what the hell do you think you're doing?!" A familiar voice chimed from behind him.

Remus startled out of his focus, whipping his head around. "Logan?"

"Don't look at me, you ignoramus-! You met a serial killer alone after I told you to stay away?!"

"He knows my brother, I couldn't just-!"

Remus looked back at the doctor was closer now, looking down at him pitifully. "I see now. The talking to air, the erratic behaviour, the pushing your delusions onto others… you mustn't be well. It's alright, Mr. Kaneshiro, I could easily refer you to a mental health facility who will take care of you."

"Remus, you have to get out! Now!"

"I know!" He wasn’t a complete idiot, damn it! But he needed to get Stacey to confess or-

"Ah, perfect! If you wait here, I’ll go and make a call."

Remus stepped backwards, hand going to the knife in his pocket. He needed Stacey to confess, but if he didn’t-

Unfortunately, Stacey noticed his movement and quickly grabbed his left wrist, putting way too much pressure in his grip than was necessary.

"Ah-ah. I told you to stay put, didn't I? Come now, don't be difficult. I'm only trying to get you the help you need."

If he didnt-

"Let go of him!" Logan demanded to the man who couldn't hear him.

Stacey froze, feeling the cool touch of Death on his arm as Logan tried to pull him away, and at that moment Remus pulled his knife out and stabbed him in the chest; slipping the blade right between the ribs.

Red pooled around the knife, staining his crisp white shirt vividly. Stacey stared at the knife, and dug his nails into Remus’ wrist.

"Fucker." Remus yelped with pain, pulling the weapon back out.

Finally, Stacey let go and stumbled back, hitting the wall and sliding down to the floor. His expression didn't recover from the shock from when Logan touched him; he didn't even try to apply pressure to the wound as he bled out. He just sat there until the light left his eyes, and the only sound left in the room was Remus’ laboured breathing.

"I… shouldn't have done that." Logan muttered, eyeing the limp body.

"Done what? I'm the one that killed him. That was my backup plan all along." Remus replied numbly, looking at the scene he had caused.

"I gave him the touch of Death, it's- it's an omen. I'm not supposed to use it ever."

"Gee, I'm flattered. I promise murder was always on my brain though." Remus said as he took the tape recorder out of his pocket. No need for this anymore. He wanted to get a clip of Stacey saying something incriminating so that he could defame him and ruin his reputation, but well, him not being able to benefit from a reputation at all was the next best thing.

Logan watched him, taking in the claw marks across his wrist. "...Right. He scratched you, so remember to clean under his nails."

Despite everything, Remus smiled softly at the advice. "Aww, you really care about me, don't you?"

"I- no. Absolutely not. That’s absurd" Remus snickered as Logan flushed an adorable shade of paynes grey, which he hid by going to deal with the corrupt doctor’s soul.

"...Why did you show up, by the way? There isn't anyone dead in this apartment is there?" Remus realized belatedly, looking around the empty space.

"Ah… No. Admittedly, I've been keeping a closer eye on this town than I really should, and after what happened the other day, I figured I needed to be here when I noticed you two meeting… I probably shouldn’t have.” Logan conceded.

"Well, at least you can't say this wasn't a business visit." Remus giggled to himself, wiping the blood from his knife with a tissue. Maybe he was a little giddy from the endorphins of confronting a prolific serial killer, or perhaps it was the confirmation that Logan cared for him, but either way he felt really good right now, like he could take on the world.

Logan looked at him and sighed. "I should've known you'd be trouble. No more killing, Remus. This has to be the last time."

"Of course, pinky promise~."

"...I can see you crossing your fingers behind your back, you brat."

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

Case 5: the one who tried to get away.

The next time they met, Remus broke his pinky promise. No surprises there.

It was hardly even a promise to begin with, but for some reason Logan expected him to stick to it. Quite foolish, if you ask Remus, given that he now had a total of three murders under his belt, and stopping there almost felt like giving up.

Of course, he had to lay low after Stacey however. The hospital was holding a memorial for his death and Remus later found out that it was ruled a break in. (Made sense, since Remus took a few of his fancy cleaning products on the way out, as a treat to himself.)

It was a shame Stacey was being remembered so honourably, but he couldn't really do anything about that. At least he wasn't out in the world hurting more people.

But unfortunately for Remus, the ruling of Stacey’s murder didn’t stop the incident from trickling into his normal life, as Virgil and Roman seemed to grow suspicious of him. Virgil didn't bring up the topic to him directly, but xe begun acting sketchy when the two of them hung out (Though that could easily be wariness after having one of xyr co-workers be killed). Oppositely, Roman brought the topic up at the first chance possible.

"Dr. Stacey was murdered the night we were supposed to meet him." Roman commented the next day they were able to have lunch together, arms crossed confrontationally. "Funny that."

"Yeah. Sounds like we had some pretty good luck, if you ask me." Remus grinned.

"Wha- why are you smiling?! A man died!" His twin hissed at him. Under his breath, as to not alert the other tables.

Remus’ grin faded. "Listen Ro-bro, I didn't want to tell you this but our good doctor wasn't as kind as you think he is. I called you off that night to help you. Trust me. It’s better off that neither of us went through with that ‘study’."

Roman leaned back, looking unconvinced. "What were you doing instead, Remus?"

"...Huh?"

"You heard me. Where were you? What's your alibi?"

"You're not accusing your own flesh and blood of murder, are you?" Remus sipped his drink casually; ice coffee with as many pumps of peppermint syrup as the barista would allow.

"Just answer the question." Siiigh, what a tightass. How did they come out the same womb?

"I was meeting an old friend, for your information. Logan." Remus smiled to himself at the inside joke.

"Logan? You've never mentioned a Logan before." Roman raised his eyebrows.

Remus leaned back in his chair with a shrug, opting to look out the window instead. By doing so he missed the flash of complicated emotions that crossed his twin’s face at the dismissive gesture.

"I don't tell you everything about my life, brother dearest."

"Clearly…"

A week or two passed since his conversation with Roman, and during that time Remus didn't get to see Logan again once. That wasn't such a terrible thing, most people would assume, to not run into a deity of death, but Remus was so bored! He wanted to see his favourite death pal again, but no opportunities arose to do that, and nothing was striking his murder-fancy.

That was until the day he saw a familiar licence plate parked outside a shop.

Remus froze in his tracks, remembering the night he last saw that car.

A woman crossing the street, a body too still, a car speeding away with no remorse-

Remus had given the licence number to the police, but clearly they hadn't done anything about it. Or perhaps they'd tried and the asshole bought them off.

He growled at the idea, startling a passer-by who was crossing around him.

Thankfully, he didn't have to wait long before he found out who his ire belonged to. A familiar face left the shops and begun walking towards the car; Anton, a guy who had been a year above him back in high school. Remus’ memory of the man was vague; primarily made up of snapshots of cruelty and entitlement towards those around him.

He looked exactly the same, with his annoyingly polished appearance and ugly overpriced clothes. So he was right about the police being paid off, then. Typical.

He'd just have to do something about this himself.

“I suppose there’s no point in trying to convince you to stop this, is there?”

“I mean.” Remus begun, looking down at the body he had just finished suffocating and rubbing at his bruised arms. There was more of a struggle than tv had led him to believe. “I kinda had to do this one. What? Was I supposed to connect the dots on a murder and not stalk and kill the guy who got away unpunished?”

“Most people would say yes.” Logan groaned, in the sort of tone that said he already knew he was fighting a losing battle.

“We’re not like most people though, are we?” Remus grinned, fluttering his eyelashes.

“You’re most certainly not. I’m barely a person.” Logan replied with finality.

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

Case 6: the one who pushed their luck.

And then shortly after;

“Come on man, don’t do this.” The masked person pleaded, hanging onto the fire-escape for dear life. Literally.

Remus raised an eyebrow, making a show of contemplating the request. “Hmm, I don’t know. You did try to pull a gun on me.”

“It wasn’t loaded, jackass!”

Remus tutted and held his foot over the person’s clammy hands. They shook violently at the unspoken threat. “And now you’re gonna wake up the whole neighbourhood too? No consideration!”

His joking tone must have angered them, because they began struggling to hoist themself back up again, red in the face with strain. “I swear, when I get up there-”

Promptly losing his interest in hearing the rest of that threat, Remus stood on their fingers, causing them to let go of the fire-escape and plummet to the street below with a strangled yell.

“Whoopsie daisy.”

He leaned over the banister, whistling innocently as a familiar presence appeared next to him. Logan joined him in peering down at the body, eyebrow raised.

“At least this one was merely an accident?” He guessed by the cause of death, a twinge of hope in his voice.

“Nah, they’ve tried breaking in at least 3 times this year. It was getting annoying.”

As Logan scolded him for his recklessness, Remus decided not to comment on it when their topic of conversation turned back towards the casual banter they usually shared. The two of them stood on the fire escape until the sun was on the edge of the horizon and Remus had to dash back to his apartment to avoid being seen by the early-commuters.

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

Case 8: the innocent.

And then:

Remus curiously nudged the raccoon with the tip of his boot. He’d just stumbled upon it and it still looked fresh; given that he was standing by a busy road, it was no wonder what had happened.

He was making a mental note to come back and collect the bones at a later date, when Logan appeared in-front of him in a blink, looking completely unsurprised this time around.

Remus on the other hand startled before regaining his bearings and shooting the deity a smile. “Our paths are looking less parallel by the day huh, Psychopomp-ous?”

Logan raised his eyebrows appreciatively at the word play. “It appears so. It’s quite the pleasant surprise to find you not getting into trouble for once.”

“There’s always tomorrow.” Remus wiggled his eyebrows back. “That said, I really didn’t expect to see you. I was wondering for a while if you dealt with this kind of thing too, y’know.”

Logan looked down, seeming to really notice the raccoon for the first time. He nodded after a beat. ”She had a life too. My brother brought her into the world, and so I must escort her out.”

”Yeah? Anything of note happen?” Remus asked, eyebrows raised with genuine curiosity. He’d file away the latter half of Logan’s statement for later prodding.

”...She had a family. They stayed together under the porch of an old couple.”

“Ah, to be a racoon living under a porch.” Remus lamented dreamily. “I’m glad she got to live such a rich and fulfilling life before becoming road kill. I’m truly jealous.”

“In the wild, your lifespan would most likely be around 2–3 years as a raccoon.” Logan pointed out, attempting to contradict his idealistic tone.

“Exactly. The life.”

That earned a pinched expression from Logan that made Remus titter.

“Just messing with you, prim reaper~. Now, do you have any idea how long it’s going to take for her to decompose? I have a new piece of decor to make.”

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

Case 11: the matchbox.

Remus watched from afar as the house on Psyche Avenue burned. It was bright and brilliant, so of course the firefighters were already on the scene, trying to calm the fire and save the occupant inside.

They’d be much too late; the trafficker was already unconscious and likely burning to death, along with any evidence Remus might have left behind. It was the perfect crime.

Satisfied with today’s work, he took a drag of a cigarette, delighted when Logan appeared beside him instead of with the dirtbag who deserved to burn forever (and since it was a mystery whether he'd end up with such a fate, it only seemed fitting for Remus to play god and speed up the process.)

“Those kill, you know.” Logan said in greeting.

“That makes two of us.” Remus grinned sharply, even when Logan rolled his eyes and pinched out the end of his cigarette.

For the second time in a month, the two of them overlooked the sky together, illuminated by the amber blazes of the fire. It almost felt like a date.

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

Case 13: the one with bad luck.

He was back in the alley that had imprinted itself so clearly in his memory, knife buried in the chest of a would-be assailant. Remus was boredly watching the blood seep between the bricks when Logan finally appeared to deal with the body.

“You’re late!” Remus complained with a whine. “This guy’s practically cold already.”

“Apologies. There was a flash flood across the country, and it took more of my focus to handle than I would've liked."

Remus hummed. He thought he heard something about that on the news. Mother nature could be cruel indeed. Perhaps even worse than Remus himself.

“Anyone nearby?” He checked.

“Not in a half-mile radius, no. However, the police may be on their way.”

“Plenty of time, then.” Remus said as he pulled Logan down to place a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

It had been months since that first drunk sloppy kiss happened, and less time since it had become a regular greeting. Remus would never get tired of the feeling of cold skin against his lips. It was like kissing marble-- if marble had a sassy mouth and a sexy amount of knowledge.

Logan pulled back first, smudging away the trail of blood running from Remus' nostril. “Did you have any trouble?”

“Nah, you should see the other guy.”

That earned a laugh-- a quiet chime that made Remus’ heart flutter. “I see them. Good job, you’re getting rather skilled at that.”

“Why, thank you~.” Remus preened under the praise. “It only took a couple tries, but I think I finally got the technique down pat.”

“Hmm. Speaking of 'Pat', my brother doesn’t seem to like this much. He’s not unappreciative of your choices in target, although he appears to be rather disapproving on the amount of times I've been called to your side."

Logan didn't talk about his brother much: the deity of life. From what little Remus had learned from his prying and Logan’s own complaints, he seemed like a bit of a killjoy. He blew a raspberry in response.

"Tell Patton to stop making so many criminals and maybe I'll consider it."

The corner of Logan's lips quirked up. "I don't think I will, as humorous as I'm sure that would be. It doesn't quite work like that."

Remus shrugged, watching as Logan looked off to the side.

"...It seems I’m needed elsewhere."

”You can’t stay? We barely got to talk.” Remus said with a pout.

“Unfortunately so.” Logan turned to the body; what he should have been there for. It wasn’t long before his focus was back on Remus, though. “That said... It’s a busy night. Perhaps we’ll meet again sooner than expected.”

Remus’ frown tipped back into a smile as he watched Logan vanish. He then turned on his heel and retrieved his knife before walking off into the night. If he was going to make good on Logan’s expectations, he better get to work.

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

Case 0: the one who death followed.

It soon became an established pattern; Remus would come across someone shady, and he’d put together a detailed- or straight-forward- plot on how to get rid of them. By now his city must have noticed the string of deaths, but with such a random means and very little evidence, Remus was free to continue as he pleased.

In a sense, he was untouchable with Logan by his side, pointing out anything he left behind and giving warning for any potential witnesses. Especially when he gave up on persuading Remus away from this path. It's not like the moral argument could be made anymore; the city had seen a drastic decrease in crime once Remus had taken out a lot of big players (even if there was an air of fear that lingered in the back of everyone's minds, wondering if they'd be next up on the chopping block).

All in all, it was enough to make Remus cocky; perhaps even enough so to lead to his downfall. But how was he ever going to give up now? All his life he’d been hoping for some sort of excitement to fulfil him, and he finally found it in a surprise meeting with a deity of death. Death had gone from a distant longing to something familiar and welcome; something he could use to right wrongs and feel a sense of purpose with.

And as long as he was able to exchange a life for one more meeting with his beloved partner in crime, he would do his best to stay ahead of the game.

(No matter who was out there, trying to stop the two of them.)

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

Writing taglist: @just-perhaps @sashootkahoot @anxious-l0ser @illogical-immunity @overlad-of-the-snakes @varthandi @whisperinginthevoid @and-this-sword @creamiiteaa-xx

Deityfucker au taglist: @arodynamic-enby @its-the-usda-certified-trashman @overlad-of-the-snakes @aromanticwhore @haha-phrog @hetalianhufflepuff @emeryyleaf @winter-wandering @gaylotusthatexists @8bituin

#my writing #sanders sides #intrulogical #remus sanders #logan sanders #(others are mentioned)#deityfucker au #death tw #violence tw #crime tw #weapon tw #swearing tw #injury tw #(lots of warnings for this one. take care!)

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mi6-cafe · 3 years

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WEEK 3 DRABBLES ARE HERE!

Now, let’s refresh your memory about the prompt

We have asked our writers to write between 100 and 150 words of an acrostic drabble for NO TIME. (We wanted each paragraph to start with the given letters.)

THEY DID SUCH AN AWESOME JOB!

Now, how to vote?

Yup, that’s pretty much the method, although the writing of the individual feedback full of love is very much optional. (And yes, we’re reusing this meme from last week.)

Read the drabbles below the line (or on wordpress) and GO VOTE when you’re done!

Title: Little Prick Author: sorion Warnings: none Summary: Just some bondy banter.

Now, that was just rude, Q thought, sipping his tea with his eyes on the computer screen and giving a weak attempt at not looking amused.

Other than the potted plant in the corner, nobody was convinced of said attempt, and neither was Bond at the other end of the satellite connection, and he couldn't even see Q.

The hand gesture Bond waved at the hidden camera was still rude, though less original.

"I can hear you laugh into your tea; don't think I can't," Bond's crystal-clear voice echoed through Q-Branch.

"Mmm," Q hummed in agreement. "I have to get my kicks from somewhere, Bond, and you're usually a reliable source."

Ever the gentleman, Bond conceded with grace. "Alright, you win," he said. "Provided, of course, that you stop laughing for long enough to get me out of here, so I can come home."

Title: White Knight Author: sunaddicted Warnings: none Summary: bratty agents really do get on Bill’s nerves

"No."

"Oh, come on!"

Tanner arched an eyebrow at the raised tone of voice 009 was directing at him: he definitely didn't appreciate being talked to in such manner by a bratty agent - how the man was Q's favorite (besides Bond, of course), Bill would never know.

"I'm not messing around with the line-up just because you want to go to Malaysia."

M cleared his throat from the entrance of Tanner's office, looking coldly at 009. "Of course you're not. You should go get kitted for your own mission, 009: I believe R is waiting for you in Q-Branch."

Exhaling loudly, 009 pursed his lips and left with a stiff and parting nod - it was absolutely satisfying to watch. "You didn't have to come and save me," Bill pointed out, smiling up at the other even as M bent down to kiss him. "Thank you, though."

Title: Another Door Opens Author: soufflegirl91 Warnings: None Summary: Eve contemplates a door, and what led her to it

Now or never.

One way or another, things were about to change forever. In a way, everything from the moment she had shot James Bond off that bridge in Turkey had been leading to this.

The door loomed ahead, waiting for her to take the next step. There had been a time when she thought that with that one shot, she had ruined things forever. That any opportunity she had to prove herself in the field, any chance of a career, had crashed into the water with Bond’s body.

Instead, it had merely opened another door for her. Given her a chance to learn things she never would have in the field. The people, the politics. All the little games the field agents never saw.

“M,” her secretary greeted.

Eve nodded back at her, and walked through the door to her new office.

Title: Inside Information Author: starrboned / MrKsan Warnings: content warning: alcohol Summary: Bond is back again and bets are placed.

“No,” Q said over his glass of gin, finishing it off in one swig. “Not doing this again.”

“Or you could stop being such a wet blanket and place your bet already,” Moneypenny said, poking him in the ribs. He swatted at her, scooting closer to Tanner. “We all know Bond will ‘retire’ soon enough.”

“That’s all everyone’s talking about,” Q huffed, staring at his empty glass. “He’s back, he’s off again - it’s a never-ending cycle.” Almost wish he'd stay gone, he didn't say.

“It is,” Tanner sighs, nudging his half-full pint towards Q. “But even Mallory wagered a full six months."

“Mallory did?” Q almost choked on Tanner’s beer. “That’s - that’s unusual of him.”

“Eh, said something about how ‘Bond has something to prove' this time around.“ Tanner grinned. Q felt his cheeks warm under his knowing gaze. "Maybe he has some inside information, huh?"

Title: No Time Like The Present Author: storm_of_sharp_things Warnings: none Summary: Felix had been wondering if it was ever going to happen

“Not that you need to answer, but did you ever sleep with him?” Felix looked up from his glass as MI6’s Chief of Staff dropped into the chair next to him at the bar and quirked an eyebrow. It wasn’t how Felix would’ve started this conversation, but...

“Once,” he admitted. He tossed back the rest of his drink. “You?”

Tanner nodded, his gaze distant. “Once,” he said with a faint smile. “Seemed a good idea at the time.”

“I don’t regret it,” Felix said. Then he shrugged and smirked. “I think we’d have shot each other if we’d really tried to make it work. But I do miss him.”

“Me too.” Tanner paused long enough that Felix wondered if he’d follow through. “Listen, I’ve got some good bourbon back at mine. Want a drink where it’s quieter?”

“Easy answer,” Felix grinned. “Hell yes, thought you’d never ask, let’s go.”

Title: Entanglement Author: Nana-chan Warnings: Summary: In which 007 and Q trade places...

“Now take your clothes off slowly,” said Bond softly. “Goddammit, Q, I said slowly.”

“Oh, do piss off, Bond,” Q hissed, dropping his shirt to the floor while Bond continued to watch him through the CCTV live feed. “Now, help me with the leathers.”

“That actually sounds very sexy, coming from you,” Bond said conversationally, his eyes drifting all over Q’s bare midriff before focusing on the contraption strapped to him.

“I suppose it does, yeah,” replied Q archly. “Never mind my predicament.”

“Mm-hmm,” said Bond, unfazed. “Not enough time. The straps will have to stay for now. I’ll start, then.”

Entanglements such as this were usually Bond’s lot, not his, but what was he to do when someone had attached an IED to his person? At least he’d dispatched his would-be kidnapper. He sighed, relieved, as Bond typed in the code he’d devised to remotely disable the ticking bomb.

Title: Time Well Spent Author: IrishWitch58 / captain-magicalkitty Warnings: None Summary: A conversation over coms.

“Nine bloody days and the target hasn't moved at all.” Q could almost see the exasperated expression. Bond hated the need for surveillance and made his displeasure known.

“Once he does, I'm sure the resulting excitement will more than make up for your current boredom,” Q soothed. He managed to hide his smile from the rest of the branch late shift.

There was a disgusted snort from the coms. “You'll have to do better than that to make this up to me.” The tone was suggestive but only in the general Bond default setting. Q wasn't concerned about anyone overhearing.

“If you're still angling after an exploding pen, dream on.”

“Miser,” Bond accused, fond tone at odds with the statement.

Eventually the target would move and Bond would get the job done. Until then, they enjoyed time spent together, even far apart.

Title: N O T I M E Author: hexiva Warnings: Character death Summary: Bond confronts Blofeld.

No time to think as James rounds the corner, gun in hand, and comes face to face with Blofeld, with Franz.

Only hatred in Franz’s eyes, he reaches for his gun.

Trigger burning against James’ finger, all he has to do is pull it, end this, end this, but -

Ivy leaves underfoot, the sky blue above them, and they’re bickering but they’re just children still, not the killers they will become, and Franz laughs as James trips, and he reaches down to offer him a hand -

Many years ago, they were brothers. Franz knew him before he was 007. He’s the last man left who did. Everyone else is gone, and James is tired of being alone and tired of being a killer.

Every muscle in his body aches with weariness as he lets his gun drop. And he looks Franz in the eyes as Franz pulls the trigger.

Title: A Change of The Story Author: scarytheory Warnings: (a little bit of) sci-fi Summary: She has seen the future. What she’ll do with it is up to her.

No time to waste when she’s got a glimpse of the future. She had seen Bond devastated by loss and full of rage. She had seen Q who was absorbed in his job, bitter and sad. And herself – composed and nice and so, so lonely. Or was it possible to change it? She decided to go to that beach instead of Bond. But before she left, she whispered to him: “You’ve got a secret admirer in the Q branch.” Will it be enough? And the girl on the beach… will she manage to save her? “Tracy!” she screamed as she was trying to get her out of the water.

“I don’t know you.” Not yet.

“Moneypenny, Eve Moneypenny.”

Eve decided that this time she wasn't going to let them be burned by the inevitability. This time, Tracy would live.

#10

Title: Let the Record Show Author: anyawen Warnings: None Summary: They've read the same reports, but have arrived at differing conclusions.

"No, I don't think so," Q disagrees with forced lightness. "Not this time."

"Oh, honey," Eve sighs, not fooled in the least. She reaches across the table to squeeze his hand. "Every time. He always comes back."

"There's no reason for him to come back, not anymore," Q insists. "M is dead, and he's finished the last mission she ever gave him. He can retire now. Live a peaceful life with a beautiful woman. And a beautiful car."

"If you think he'll be happy with a peaceful life, you don't understand him as well as you think," Eve laughs.

"Maybe he doesn't want peaceful," Q allows, "but we've read his file. He doesn't want m— this either, or he wouldn't keep trying to leave."

"Eventually, he will come home. And when he does," Eve says, sitting back and angling to speak to someone over Q's shoulder, "you should tell him."

#11

Title: TO DIE Author: Merc / moon_of_mercury Warnings: This one is depressing. Sorry! Summary: The End.

Never again...

Observing from behind his screen, Q takes in the smoking, crumbling scene of destruction. Police cars with flashing lights and blaring sirens swarm the streets. A familiar silhouette blends in with the by-passers, slipping out of his view around the corner.

This is the last time James Bond holsters his gun, dusts off his suit, and heads for the airport to catch a flight Moneypenny arranged for him.

“It’s done,” Q says into the expectant stillness of the room. It hurts a little, even though he’s relieved. The showdown could have gone so much worse, but this is just as final.

Memories of this mission will haunt him for different reasons than usual. Their blazing victory is a bittersweet consolation.

Everything ends here; even those things that never began.

#12

Title: Mission Goal: Ideas Author: Venstar /1amvengeance Warnings: none Summary: well someone had to think of something.

“Now you're just showing off.” James’s voice drawled against Q’s ear.

“Oh, I'm showing off. Did you have any other ideas? No. Spies should have faster reflexes than asking me to 'Quick hide us!' My time and equipment are very expensive.” Q hissed quietly. They were still on a mission after all.

“That kiss was a far better idea than anything I had in mind. I'm happy to pay your asking price. Are you okay Q, your face has gone all red.”

“I will murder you in your sleep. I will end you. I will scatter your body parts to the farthest corners of the globe as a warning to those that think about blaming me for coming up with all the ideas!”

“Maybe instead of murder, you should think about our target. He’s escaping.”

“Escaping my arse. Someone is going to pay for your lack of ideas.”

#13

Title: Losing and Having Author: solarmorrigan Warnings: None. Summary: Bond reflects and knows he can't have it any other way.

Never in all his life had Bond felt quite this level of terror.

Or – well, no. That wasn’t quite true.

There had been one other time.

In the murky water, watching everything he’d allowed himself to love and depend on slip away into oblivion. The fear had clutched him then, shaken him and wrecked him.

Maybe he should have listened to his own damn self when he’d designated the heart as nothing but a target.

Even so, even knowing this, Bond clutched Q’s hand, eyes locked on his bruised and battered quartermaster who had only just returned to him, and knew it was worth it. The fear of loss was nothing against the euphoria of having.

#14

Title: Dreisamkeit (Or: Bliss comes in threes) Author: Misha / artsytarts / jelly-mish Warnings: Sickly sweet fluff, watch out for cavities Summary: Della, Felix and James are toying with the idea of having a lazy day in.

Nestled between the warm bodies of her boys, Della felt content.

“Occasionally, I’d like to just... stay here. All day.”, she said, letting her fingers brush through their hair in lazy strokes. James tightened his grip around her and made an approving noise.

Then the beeping started. Felix moved, banging his fist on the alarm clock. “Gosh darn it,” he growled. Della pouted in response, until a thought struck her. What if they took a sick day? Food poisoning? Good enough story. She suggested it out loud.

“If you take the blame,” James mumbled sleepily.

“Me? If anyone, it’d be Felix,” Della grinned at her husband's dirty look and carried on: “Remember when you forgot to add water to the pasta? The fumes were noxious.”

Eventually, reluctantly, they broke up their haven of safety and rolled out of bed. Della sighed. There never seemed to be enough time.

#15

Title: Augment Author: oldestcharm Warnings: n/a Summary: Every week Q argues his case and wins. "No," M says, squinting and displeased. "Absolutely not."

"One million," Q attempts with a half-hearted smile, but he knows well enough that it wouldn't work in any other situation. He's not even trying that hard at this point, because he knows he'll win this argument every single time. "It's not that much. I should probably ask ten times that with the amount of shit Bond breaks. Remember last week? I deserve a better budget."

"Then stop supplying him with expensive equipment," M suggests, unsympathetic at best.

"I'll have you know he'll get his hands on it whether I supply it or not," Q says crossly.

"Maybe you aren't doing a good enough job at security."

"Exactly, I need a better budget!" Q insists, eyeing M with a bit of a manic expression as he sets down the tablet in front of him. "Now sign it or deal with the consequences."

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