#looks directly into the camera with grey paint on my face | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

imchoosingnottoexist · 2 years

Text

The Sims Epilogues 4.5/MAG 204.5: Eyes On Me

Statement of Daniel Weyloft regarding a package picked up during delivery. Statement extracted February 7th, 2022

The Sims Epilogues tells the tale of a man who is stalked after acquiring a strange package while delivering illegal objects.

***Statement begins***

I’ve been dealing for 3 years now. I started my last year of secondary. I was running low on quid and wanted to leave home as soon as I could. So I talked to a few mates and ended up dealing. It’s not a hard job - at least not for me. I stay out of the way of cops, I don’t piss off people that want merchandise moved, and I get money. Simple as that.

I plan on stopping soon. Not for moral reasons, but… I want out. I’ve seen some scary stuff, especially recently. Of course, I’m scared of getting caught. Have you noticed people acting weird lately? My most recent client was an odd character. I heard of this guy from a mutual friend who sometimes advertised my work for me. My mate said that the guy went by the name TS and was trustworthy enough, especially for the amount he was paying. What he wanted was simple: he needed two packages delivered to different addresses a few kilometers away from where I was supposed to pick them up.

We communicated very little, but for the time we did text he asked very strange–I mean they were prying questions. At first, it was normal questions like how long I would take. Then he started getting weird, he asked me what my biggest fear was… for a minute I felt like I *had* to answer. Instead, I simply said I didn't think it was necessary to answer that. After my refusal, I felt like my phone camera was watching me. Even the idea of refusing to answer the text made me very aware of how many ways I could be being watched. My phone camera had a certain shine to it like there was something behind it, through it, like it knew exactly what I was thinking.

I turned off my phone and stared into my reflection in the black of the screen. In that single moment I was filled with a terrible dread I can't even describe. like something was being pulled out of my head and going into eyes I could feel staring inside my mind.

I blinked hard and when I opened my eyes I saw something behind me in the window. It was human-ish, a bit taller than I am. Its skin was pale white, with a smooth bald head. There it sat for what felt like an eternity, with a thick, massive eye sitting in the center of its face. The thing stood there still through the glass and just stared. I turned around to get a good look. I didn't expect it to be there, I thought it was just a trick of the light. But there it was. The pupil was wide and distended like it was taking in so much more light than it should have been able to handle.

I shouted at the thing but it disappeared as soon as I got a good look. I ran to the window and looked through, only to see nothing out of the ordinary. To be totally honest I thought I partied too hard the night before and I was seeing things.

Eventually, I had to pick up the packages. TS loved Chelsea, near the Thames embankment. His house was nondescript, it looked as if it was occupied, although unmaintained. The light grey paint cracked and bunched as if it were skin stretched over a body it didn't fit. When I exited my car everything felt very dream-like. Stepping out of the door was like stepping into an entirely new world. Kind of like starting a trip.

I approached the wooden door, the way my feet hit the ground didn't feel right on the pavement, kind of floaty. The door was made of old thick material, maybe mahogany. The glass panes in the door weren't frosted like you'd expect them to be but instead were clear. Anyone walking down the street could have walked up and stared directly into the house. And anyone in the house could have seen the entire street just by standing behind the door.

The main window was at eye level and impossible not to look through. The inside of the house was dark and empty, except for a single security camera hanging from the ceiling that faced the door. I wondered where the packages were when my foot touched an object on the welcome mat. I looked down and there were my two packages. They were both in medium-sized cardboard boxes, one wrapped in nondescript cardboard paper, and the other had the sigil of an open eye, with 4 lashes on the top lid, and 4 on the bottom.

I picked up both packages and took them to my car. Usually, it's courteous and much more secure to hand off what I was led to believe was important cargo. But this entire job had already been very strange, so what was another odd thing on top of it all? I felt like I was being watched as I drove away. (maybe the camera?) I looked in the mirror but saw only the pale, ruined gray paint of the house against the affluent red brick-and-mortar buildings next to it. It stuck out like a sore thumb like it wanted to be seen….

I was told to deliver the first package to a Westminster address. This entire job was more like a long day trip, especially with London traffic, but I don't trust the metro when I have important cargo. Too many people. The Westminster delivery went off without a hitch. I was to send the brown package to the Comfort Hotel London and say it was for Mr. S, and that the attendant would take care of the rest. All things considered, he seemed very disinterested in anything I had to say. In the end, he just told me to set it on the desk and leave, so that's what I did.

When I left the hotel the world was eerily quiet. No, not quite, more like all the noise on the street had stopped. I looked around and saw that the pedestrians on the street had stopped. They stood dead in their tracks. Every single person on the street was staring right at me. This is gonna sound weird… but I could feel their eyes in my head. Inside of my skull, there were a thousand tiny eyes staring at everything I thought, everything I felt, everything I was. I tried to push the creeping paranoid fear to the back of my mind but they saw it. Each and every eye that saw me from the street or intruded in my brain saw that I was scared, and it was like they *loved* all of it.

I tried to calmly walk to my car but my trembling must have been visible for miles. When I got in I started driving as far as I could. It was 15 minutes before I realized I still had a destination to go to before this damned job was over. The last drop-off was an antique shop in Camden. Royal Plaza Antiques I think the place was called. The drive over was surprisingly uneventful, just slow. So slow. The traffic is terrible and at this point, I was reconsidering my decision to not take the metro, but it was too late. It was way too late…

I arrived at the antique store at about 4 in the afternoon. At that point, I was too exhausted to care what time it was. When I left my car I looked around to make sure no one was watching before I stepped through the shop's old glass doors. The man at the front desk was old, very old. His hair was thick but bright white atop his pale blotchy head. He greeted me with a smile and before I could even finish saying what I was there for he started yelling at me. "I don't want another one of your unholy things near me ever again!", he shouted. I tried to explain I didn't know what he was talking about but he didn't want to hear any of it. "Get out of my shop and never come back, burn it! Burn it!" He shrieked.

The old man cowered behind the sales counter, half crouching and half in a fighting stance, holding a baseball bat I can only assume he kept for defending the shop against intruders. It was then that I felt an odd tickle in the back of my head. It was… joy, at this man's suffering. Like the joy of eating a cookie. Sweet satisfaction. I couldn't do this anymore. I ran out of the shop and as soon as I got out of the door I ran into someone. She was a woman with the biggest eyes I had ever seen, wearing a sage green dress. With a smile, she asked me "What's in that box you're holding?" I couldn't tell if she was an undercover cop or just a weird passerby so I told her it was none of her concern.

She didn't take no for an answer. She grabbed my wrist with a hand much more powerful than her stature would lead me to suspect and she asked me again "What's in that box?" I yelled at her to let me go but she just looked me in the eye and smiled. She didn't let go. I had to push her to the ground and quickly climb into the car. Before I got the engine started she began knocking on the door.

I’d had enough. All of this was too much. I was going back to TS's house and I was ending this. At every stop on the way, I looked out my windows to see if I was being stalked. No one seemed to be following me. I found the house easily. It was impossible to miss actually. It was massive and out of place. I stepped up to that thick, leering brown door and yelled that the old man didn't want it, that whatever was happening I wanted no part. But the door was unresponsive. Of course, it was. It just sat with nothing but an unfeeling mechanical eye behind it. I pounded as hard as I could, yelling that I'd kill the man that I just knew was torturing me all day.

The door shook but still, nothing happened. I felt the glare of eyes at the back of my head. I turned around to see a crowd had gathered around me. Watching me scream at this house, and whoever was living in it. I tried to tell them that this wasn't what it looked like and I had good reason. But they didn't listen, instead, they grew closer. Every member of the crowd had eyes just a bit bigger than they should have been. They approached in unison, I backed up but was only met with cold unfeeling wood. The people came closer and closer until I was cowering at the foot of the door. Two of the members of the crowd reached to me and tore my bag off my back. I begged them to give it back, to not open the box. But they took it into the crowd while everyone else just stared.

I screamed in panic as they watched me break down. I began to cry, but then I felt something different, a presence that I knew. I looked up to see the thing that had watched me from my window, it stood there in the middle of the crowd. A massive distended eye was focused directly on me. Our eyes locked and it moved, this was the first and only movement I'd seen it make. Then it smiled. The blank expression that it bore previously broke into a cruel, celebrating smile.

Then, suddenly I was unconscious. When I woke up I was still sitting on the doorstep, the package sat in front of me. On top of the package was 1,750 pounds in cash. More than I had asked for, with a note on top. It said, "If you don't want to see me again, don't destroy the box."

That was enough, I drove back home and stayed there for half a week, not even leaving to get groceries. A few days into my isolation, Wednesday I think, I heard a knock at the door. I don't know anyone who knocks without texting first so I was surprised, but I felt like I had no choice but to answer it. When I opened the door the air was hot and dry, in front of me stood a man. He wore a business suit that was dirty with something that looked to be oil. He told me I had something he wanted, that he would take the package off my hands for 500 pounds. At that point I would've given the package away for free, I retrieved it from the spot on the counter where I had left it and handed it off to him.

The man then said thank you and handed me the money. He ended our interaction with an instruction to cut the eyes out of every book, magazine, or poster that I had in the house. Then, with no explanation, he left.

I followed the man's instructions, and since then I’ve had no problems with feeling watched. No cyclops in my window, no eyes in my head, no voyeurs. Just peace. Unwatched peace.

Special thanks to: u/LazyWitchMom and u/ohsherbee for proofreading

#fanfic #the magnus archives fanfic #bugs #mag200 #martin blackwood #jonmartin #magpod

0 notes

ahatintimepieces · 3 years

Text

It Comes Down in Buckets

Before Luka and Hattie ended up in Subcon, they faced many challenges on the road as they adjusted to Luka’s curse. This is a lil gift for Mak, @doodledrawsthings, and their “””Coffeeshop au””” where Luka pushes himself a bit too hard while trying to make the day special for Hattie. Please enjoy!

Word Count: 7,678

The rolling waves tumbled against the velvet sand and the morning sunlight skipped across the foaming crests, painting them gold. Hattie’s grip tightened around the old bucket she had found as she inhaled the salty, fishy air. Standing at the patches of grass that separated the edge of the forest from the beach, she gazed out at the shore. Her sketchbook waited in her backpack, begging her to pull it out and to memorialize the look of the sea and snapshot the ebb and flow of surging waves, but she had work to do.

She had to find the prettiest seashells before anyone else so she could sell them for some extra cash. Every little bit helped.

Weaving down to the beach, the warming sand caught between her toes and kicked up with each flop and flip of her flipflops. She swung the dented bucket with rust stains as she hurried to the lapping tide. She stepped into the water and immediately squealed before jumping back from the cold. The foam receded, as if teasing her, and an impish grin spread across her features.

As the water crawled back up the shore, Hattie fixed her old baseball cap and then leapt into the ankle-deep wave. Her initial screech dissolved into laughter. Splashing around, her flipflops tossed clouds of murky dust up and the sloshing, icy water splattered against her leg. She placed her hands on her hips and struck a pose as she gazed out at the sliver of light where the sky paralleled the ocean. With the cascading crackles of the snapping sea rumbling around her, it was hard not to let her mind wander into daydreams.

She could picture it perfectly. A calm day at the beach. No time limits for her dad, no worrying about money, and he could finally rest. He could finally be happy again. And she could play in the surf and chase crabs, pretend to be a pirate finding buried treasure, or draw and paint next to her dad as he napped. She could picture it so perfectly.

But she glanced down at the bucket as it bumped against her hip. Its creaking handle brought her back to reality.

Hattie let out a huff before shuffling out of the grasp of the waves, where it would be easier to spot shells. But before she did, a playful crest rolled back to reveal the tip of a fancy looking shell. Gasping, Hattie knelt and carefully tugged the shell free and revealed what she always thought of as a mini conch, though her dad would probably tell her that it was whelk of some kind since it had a rounder top and thinner end.

After checking the inside cavity for any snail or sea critter by poking a cautious finger around to confirm it was empty, she held the whelk to her ear.

She grinned when she heard the ocean. But she was also standing in it so the shell could still potentially be a dud. Nevertheless, she placed it into the bucket, and it slid around as she went searching for more.

As Hattie combed the beach, a couple people showed up to lounge on the sand or wade in the surf. It didn’t get crowded, since it was a workday, but when she wandered towards the opposite side of the long beach, where the sand was cut off by rounded boulders that jutted out into the sea, she ran into a tourist screaming at a seagull.

“What’s wrong?” Hattie called as she hoisted her bucket overflowing with shells to the side to make it easier to sprint forward.

“That darn seagull took my stuff!” The tourist gestured angrily towards a seagull perched on one of the rocks surrounded by water. It bobbed its head around as it stood proudly over a grey camera. Sunlight glinted against the lens.

“I’ll get it,” Hattie offered without hesitation. She placed the bucket down and scrambled up the boulders.

“Wait, kid, you don’t have to!” He waved his hands across his chest, trying to get her to stop, but it was too late. She didn’t listen as she assessed the slippery boulders and slowly navigated her way across.

She came to the edge of the final boulder and eyed the gap between it and the one in the waves. The seagull cocked its head towards her and let out a squawk. Pausing, Hattie glanced around, trying to figure out how to distract the seagull.

Before she could, the seagull snapped its beak towards something behind her and she glanced over her shoulder to find the tourist was waving a sandwich around. The seagull swooped over her, and she belatedly ducked as it soared over to the tourist. He yelped and turned on his heels before sprinting from the squawking bird.

Hattie tugged her cap down in determination before turning back towards the rock. She took a cautious step back before lunging from the boulder and vaulting onto the next. Grunting after she smacked against the rock, she scrambled up and grabbed the camera. She slung her backpack over her shoulder and nestled the camera between her sketchbook and Professor Popcorn. For good measure, she tucked her dad’s hoodie around it to keep it extra safe.

Once her backpack was zipped, she looped her arms through the straps and got ready to jump back.

The tourist had returned to his spot, hunched over and panting with his cap askew and white and grey feathers stuck to his vibrant orange shirt. She inhaled a steadying breath and leapt back towards shore.

She misjudged the distance.

Nearly sliding over the side of the rock, she scraped her knee against stone as she clambered and clawed. Panic squeezed her chest until she could finally find her grip.

“Careful, now!” the tourist called as she hoisted herself up with her heart pounding. She glanced towards the worried man and gave him a thumbs up before crawling forward.

Her stinging knee threatened to buckle when she first stood, but she gritted her teeth and pushed onward. She navigated back to the beach and dropped down onto the sand.

“Geez, kid, that was dangerous!” the tourist sighed as Hattie pulled out his camera.

“But I got it!” She beamed, holding it out proudly. Her smile faltered when she noticed the identical camera that hung around his neck. His chin tilted down as he followed her gaze.

“I was trying to tell you, I have a spare,” he said apologetically. “But, hey! Since you got it, why don’t you keep it? It’s great for preserving memories!”

Hattie pulled the camera back, appraising the contraption.

Preserving memories? No matter how much she sketched all the places she and her father had been, it might be nice to be able to just take a picture to quickly capture everything. She could take a picture of the sea, in fact. But she stared into the curved lens with growing dismay.

Flashes of headlights and blinding snaps. Posters with blurry images of her shadowy dad offering money for anyone who could capture the pictured creature, dead or alive. And, even when he shapeshifted, he was still so jumpy around cameras.

Maybe she could sell it at a pawn shop for a little extra cash? In the meantime, it might not hurt to keep it on hand…

“Oh, hold on,” the tourist exclaimed, startling her out of her thoughts. She tucked the camera back into her backpack and blinked up at him with wide blue eyes. “You got quite the scrape there, let me help.” He motioned her over to his set up on the beach, complete with a towel and umbrella.

After the tourist helped her clean up and shared back-up sandwiches he had prepared, she let him choose one of the shells to take as thanks and set off to sell the rest.

She set up a little area at the top of the beach, halfway between the rest of the city and the parking lot for beach goers. After doodling a cute sign declaring her wares were ready, she caught the eyes of passersby and wove imaginative tales about the shells for anyone who came near. Since this wasn’t the first time that she had sold items that she salvaged while her dad worked, she had developed a good enough sense to get a read on personalities and how to appeal to them. Parents with children were easily swayed by silly stories about the shells. She even managed to convince a businessman walking by to purchase one since her wares were far cheaper than the nearby souvenir shops that sold the same shells. And, after all, hers were higher quality and, really, didn’t he want to support an aspiring entrepreneur? (It probably helped her chances that she practiced that word a few times prior to make sure she was pronouncing it right).

She bolted when she spotted some cops patrolling the area, though.

By the end of the day, she successfully sold more than half of her shells. She tucked the coins and cash safely into an inside pocket in her backpack, where her secret stash would help her buy food for whenever her dad inevitably got stuck in noddle form and couldn’t work. She had tried giving her earnings to him directly before, but he had only gotten upset, insisting she didn’t need to worry about money and it was his job to take care of her, not the other way around. But they both knew that he often pushed himself past his limits, and he couldn’t do everything himself.

She was just beginning to collect firewood close to their camp when footsteps tracked through the grass. Hattie froze, turning towards the sound and holding her breath. Golden light flickered between the trees and an approaching shadow broke into the small clearing.

“Hey, kiddo!” Her dad, still in his human form, which surprised her, jumped forward with a wide grin and his hands behind his back. Wrinkles lined the corners of his eyes, but he was alert with enthusiasm as he straightened. A plastic bag crinkled noisily as it swayed behind him. “Guess what I got for our most important celebration tonight?”

“Celebration?” Hattie tilted her head, though his energy was infectious, and she cracked a smile.

“Don’t tell me you forgot what day it is,” he teased, bringing his hand forward and adjusting the delivery cap he wore for his morning job of delivering papers.

“Payday?” she guessed, crossing over to their firepit and dropping the dry twigs and branches she found.

“N-no, kiddo,” he faltered, quirking a brow as he revealed a plastic bag with local dollar store logo. “It’s your birthday!”

“Oh.” She blinked up at him.

“Did you really forget?” His features fell and the worn creases on his face highlighted the underlining fatigue. “We talked about it, right? When we were-when we were moving.”

“Y-yeah,” Hattie said. She did sort of remember now that he mentioned it, but she hadn’t thought too much about it since they had other things to worry about. “I just forgot what day of the week it is.”

He didn’t seem to believe her but he accepted the excuse.

“Well, I got hot dogs and marshmallows,” he added quickly, pulling out a bag of large marshmallows for emphasis. If he sensed how she tensed, he ignored it and gestured towards the direction of the beach. “I thought we could start a fire at one of the communal firepits and have a cookout!”

“What about our camp?” Hattie gestured to the little circle of rocks they had set up a few days ago when they first decided to settle in this city.

“It’ll still be here,” he promised. After tucking the marshmallows back into the bag, he walked over to her pile of wood and searched for the longest and cleanest sticks.

“But the beach is out in the open,” she pressed, nervously fiddling with the edge of her shirt. “Don’t you need to change back?”

“Of course not!” he insisted with a little more force than he probably intended. In a lighter tone, he waved his hand dismissively with a smile plastered across his face. “I can hold it together long enough for your birthday. Come on! Let’s have fun!”

He placed a few sticks he deemed worthy for hot dog and marshmallow roasting into the plastic bag and then motioned for her to follow.

“But—” she hesitated.

“You know, I used to do this when I was a kid,” he jumped enthusiastically into the memory, not giving her a chance to argue. She frowned but grabbed her backpack and the bucket that still had the leftover seashells.

Hey, if they were going to be on the beach, she might as well keep an eye out for more.

“Any time we went camping, we would grab a bunch of hot dogs and marshmallows. Of course,” he added a bit quietly as they walked through the woods, “usually we had buns and graham crackers and chocolate. But I did snag some ketchup packets from the restaurant!” He beamed proudly.

Hattie forced a smile, though guilt gnawed at the reminder that he had worked two jobs that day, trying to get enough money together so that they could find a motel to stay at sooner than later. She considered giving him the money she had saved, but she didn’t want to cause him more grief especially since she could tell he was masking his exhaustion. Maybe she could hide the money where he would find it with his things? She could pass it off as him misplacing the bills!

Though, both of them had become increasingly vigilant when dealing with money in the past couple years. He would have noticed if that much went missing in the first place.

“Here we are,” he gestured to the firepit closest to the forest the second they walked onto the sand. “Sit tight while I get the fire going.” There was wrapped firewood next to the pit, all ready for them and their cookout. His water bottle was also leaning against one of the logs, indicating that he had stopped by before running to get her. While he finished setting up, Hattie gazed out at the sea.

The water mirrored the stretch of twilight. Orange-pink rays of dwindling sunlight lingered on the horizon and the occasional star twinkled in the darkening sky. Crackles and pops that came from the growing fire behind her mingled with the surging waves before her. And when her dad joined her side and held out his hand, she smiled as she took it, keeping her gaze locked on the horizon.

“It’s like that one picture in the book at the library in the last town,” she whispered, craning her neck back to meet his warm golden gaze. “The one with the watercolor illustrations!”

“It is!” he agreed, giving her hand a tight squeeze.

“I want to paint something like this one day,” she admitted, turning back to the sea.

“I bet you can, and sooner than you think.” His smile permeated his voice. He gently tugged her hand and nodded towards the firepit. Despite the lines under his eyes, he did seem happy, and that was good enough for Hattie.

“Okay!” She joined him on a log, and eagerly waited for him to pass her a stick he doused with water to keep it from burning.

Her dad filled her in on his day as they roasted the hot dogs. He got her laughing with a few jokes his coworkers shared, and she nodded knowingly when he told her about some of the customers he had worked with. When he asked about her day as he broke open the bag of marshmallows, she explained that she was looking for seashells and presented the bucket with her findings.

“Quick, if you have twenty seashells and I take five, how many do you have left?” he quizzed.

“F-fifteen!” Hattie blinked, hesitating only a moment as she registered the question.

“Good girl,” he praised, passing over a marshmallow.

“If you bought one bag of marshmallows for tonight, how many marshmallows will you have tomorrow morning?” She blinked up at him, trying and failing to conceal her growing smirk.

“Hmm.” He speared his own marshmallow as he gave her a wry grin. “That’s a tough one, why don’t you give me a hint?”

“Zero!” She pulled her burning marshmallow out of the fire and quickly blew on it.

The flames dissipated into a plume of smoke, leaving a burnt crust behind on the marshmallow. Without waiting, she popped it into her mouth and the gooey burst of molten sugar melted on her tongue.

“Becath I’ll eat ‘em all!” she declared through her sticky mouthful.

“Just don’t choke!” He chuckled before putting his arm around her and giving her a side squeeze. She immediately snuggled into his side, comforted by his warmth.

As they worked through the marshmallows and the night cloaked the beach, Hattie pulled out the hoodie and tugged it over herself. The hoodie was far too big since it was her dad’s but despite the floppy sleeves and how it was more like a dress on her, it was cozy and kept the night chill away. She became even cozier when her dad plucked her up and enveloped her in a hug.

“Happy birthday, princess,” he whispered as he nuzzled his cheek against hers.

“Hap—erm,” her cheeks flushed since she had almost wished him a happy birthday back. “Thank you.”

He chuckled and gave her a tight squeeze.

“Okay, I have one more surprise,” he said, arching back and stretching his arm maybe a bit farther than a human arm should, and rummaged around the plastic bag.

She leaned over, trying to peek and his other hand moved over her eyes.

“Don’t look!” He shifted around a bit before Hattie felt something lower into her lap. “Alright, now you can.” He pulled his hand away and she immediately glanced down.

Watercolors. A plastic palette of watercolors rested in her lap with a tiny brush snuggly tucked into a divot on the side. A single golden ribbon was taped on for the birthday wrapping. Her chest tightened as she imagined all the things she could paint, all the things she wanted to bring to life with water-soaked pigments.

But how much did he spend on her?

“Well?” he prompted with an edge of nervousness. “Is it okay?”

“I love it.” In one swift movement, she hugged the palette before swiveling around and burying her face into his chest. A lump threatened to lodge in her throat, but she swallowed it as she hugged her dad.

“Oh, Hattie.” He leaned over her and held her tightly. “I’m glad. I know it’s not much.”

“It’s perfect,” she promised, grasping his shirt.

He did so much for her, sacrificed so much just to take care of her, and now this? She wished she could do more to help.

After a few moments of lingering in his embrace, she pulled back while rubbing at her eyes.

“Everything oh-ahem.” Her dad suddenly pulled his hand away from his task of brushing her hair back. She wrinkled her nose as she blinked up at him.

He held his hand behind his back and his nervous, forced smile revealed his growing fangs.

“Dad,” she shuffled out of his lap, “you need to change back.”

She glanced around the beach quickly, relieved that there was no one nearby to see him.

“No!” He winced when an edge of a reverb tainted his voice. He cleared his throat and waved his other hand dismissively. It had completely turned ebony-violet. “I’m fine! I can hold it for a little long—” he stalled as he glimpsed his other hand and snapped it behind his back too, “—longer.”

Hattie frowned with her brows drooping. His irises radiated golden light as his pupils faded.

“Please. I know I can—” he faltered, pulling his hands back and holding them out before himself. His fingers trembled as they dripped, trying to reconnect. He bit his lip and grimaced when his lengthening fangs jabbed him. The familiar, purple-singed shadows spread from the expanding tips of his chestnut hair.

“It’s okay,” she insisted, turning around and rolling up the sleeves of the hoodie to start cleaning up so that they could head back to camp. She knew he was probably more exhausted than he let on.

“But it’s your birthday,” he whispered in such a broken voice that she felt a world of guilt press against her shoulders.

“And I can still spend it with you as a noodle!” She kept her tone light, giving him a smile strained from her concern.

The gold had encased his eyes and his teeth became backlit by a surging light in his throat. He considered her with tight dismay before scowling.

“No!” He pushed to his feet. “No, I can do this!”

“But, Dad,” Hattie called anxiously, unable to do anything but watch as he paced by the bonfire.

He held his hands out in front of himself, clenching them as he stared daggers into his purple palms. During his pacing, his legs began to quiver, and he paused, hunching as his hair began to drip. His fingers merged into mittens, taking on a gloopy appearance and Hattie thought that that was it, that he would just start getting bigger. She opened her mouth to try and get him to focus on saving his clothes, but the words died in her throat.

“Stop changing,” he wheezed in a wavering voice. He doubled over, clutching his stomach as he strained to keep a human shape. He squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth, snuffing out his golden light. The flickering fire cast twisting shadows against his trembling form. His arms lost all pretense of having bones and flopped down like limp noodles. His legs buckled and he thrust out his hand to catch himself.

“Something’s wrong!” Hattie hurried to his side, reaching out as his mitten hand clenching the sand lost its shape entirely and expanded into a puddle.

“N-no,” his reverberating voice gurgled behind globs of dripping purple that stretched across his mouth when he parted his lips. “I can do this!” But just as he said that, he grunted and lurched forward. Viscous liquid oozed from his shoes as his legs melted.

But they didn’t form a tail.

They just pooled out uselessly behind him.

“Dad!” Hattie placed a hand on his arm, but it collapsed under her touch. He let out a strangled cry as his whole arm gave away and he slammed against the beach.

He continued to melt despite his groaning and straining. The trembling shadows spilled from his clothes and into the sand. Panic seized Hattie’s chest as she feared she was going to lose him to the beach. Glancing around frantically, her gaze fell onto the bucket, and she lunged for it.

“Hold on!” Hattie called as she dumped the shells out and slid over to her father, who had gone eerily silent as the pooling liquid oozed and spread.

She dropped the bucket into the sand and quickly tried to shove waves of the viscous liquid inside, catching particles of sand with it. Once half of him filled the rusted bucket and kept spilling out, she righted it before scooping up purple globs. She tossed handful after handful of the soupy remains of her father into the bucket. The trembling sludge sputtered and splashed. Tears stung the corners of her eyes when she saw some liquid darkening and fading into intangible shadows that disappeared into the sand, gone for good.

“Stay with me,” she whispered in a cracking voice as she scooped up every last bit that she could.

After wringing purple from his shirt, pants, and the edges of her sleeves which had tumbled into the puddle a few times, Hattie searched for any of her father’s features in the goop squelching against the edges of the bucket.

“Dad?” She lightly prodded the thick surface of the liquid and it shivered. A muffled groan bubbled up, though no golden light from his eyes or mouth followed. Hattie sighed, sitting back in the sand as she convinced herself that the fact that he had groaned meant he was still there. But now just as soup. In a bucket.

They’ve been through worse, right? This, too, should pass?

“Okay, you just sleep while I clean up,” she muttered as she pushed to her feet.

She collected their things and put out the fire, all the while glancing at the bucket as the goop settled. Once she had the plastic bag slung over her shoulder and her birthday gift tucked into her backpack, she slowly picked up the bucket.

“Oof,” she huffed as she heaved the bucket up, wincing when droplets splashed over the side. “Why is magic goop so heavy? That’s stupid,” she grumbled as she slowly made her way across the dark beach and back to their camping area. As she paused multiple times to give her arms a break and catch her breath, she swallowed the rising lump in her throat and pushed onward.

Luka groaned and on top of the usual reverb that came with his noodle body it sounded oddly like the gurgle of a garbage disposal choking on water. He blinked tired eyes and the golden glow rebounded against the daffodil-yellow inside of Hattie’s baseball cap.

Oh. Had he shrunk down and dozed while Hattie was shopping? That didn’t seem right. Actually, what had he been doing before this?

A surge of panic bubbled up as he recalled trying to hold onto his humanity at the beach. He remembered the tighter he held the form, the more it slipped through his clenched fingers. He heard a slosh of thick liquid when he tried to lift his hand.

He couldn’t lift his hand.

He couldn’t even turn his head! His eyes darted around frantically, catching the rim of some sort of curving, metal wall in the corners of his vision but he could only really look straight up at Hattie’s cap.

“K-ki—” he sputtered as some sort of gunk trickled into his mouth. Expelling wet coughs only caused more of the viscous goop to slip in. His anxious attempts to move coupled with his hyperventilating only increased the panicked sloshing that sounded like puddles disrupted by pricks of rain.

“Dad?” Hattie’s sleepy voice responded.

“H-help I’m—” he gagged on a particularly large glob.

“Hold on!”

He tried to spit out the gunk and a heavy droplet plunked against him. He shivered from the sensation but for the life of him he couldn’t figure out what was going on. Relief swelled when the cap was removed and Hattie looked down at him, with sunlight filtering through the trees. Squinting at the sudden light, he tried to squirm around.

While not happy, she at least looked safe and sound. She wore his delivery cap, and he could see the dangling strings of his hoodie. If the sunlight was any indication, he must have slept through the night. He grimaced, hoping she hadn’t been too uncomfortable or cold without his coil to protect her from the elements.

“What’s going on?” he forced out, feeling like he was talking through a wad of bubblegum.

Hattie sat back, making it harder for him to see her at his angle. He twisted to try to get closer.

“You’re in a bucket,” she answered tiredly. When she glanced up and realized she was wearing his delivery cap, she jolted and swiftly took it off.

“A bucket?” he echoed in distress. His eyes shifted around as he glimpsed the walls and the occasional splash of purple-black goop if he moved too quickly. He blinked.

“Oh my god, I melted.”

“Yeah,” Hattie sighed as she rubbed her eyes with the baggy, purple sleeve. “Are you okay?”

“Um.��

No.

“I’ve been better.” He winced, realizing all the gunk that was getting caught in his mouth was himself. Fantastic.

“Do you need anything?” she prompted with hesitation as she glanced around. “Like water or something?”

“I need to get out of this bucket!” He pushed his eye against the rim, and he felt himself ripple. “Here, dump me out! I can try to—” he coughed, “—pull myself back together.”

“I lost so much of you on the beach though,” Hattie objected. “And y-you just disappeared, like the goopy stuff turned all shadowy.”

He caught the crack in her voice, and frowned, both from hearing how part of him just up and evaporated—okay, a lot of him if what was left of his monstrous noodle form could fit inside a tiny bucket—and from how much he had frightened her.

“I can’t stay like this, though,” he argued. “I have work! And you can’t stay in the woods on your own!” He shifted around, trying to figure out how to stretch his neck or anything but his neck and everything was gone! First, he lost his body and now he lost his monster body? This wasn’t fair! He couldn’t live like this!

In his frustration, he tried to will himself to have arms or hands or even his tail would work. The goop bubbled and frothed, and he grunted from the strain, but he could do it! He could pull himself together!

“Stop!” Hattie commanded. He yelped as he felt small hands jut into the goop and scoop up his features.

He felt himself spread out and winced as strands dripped back down into the bucket with heavy plops. It was like the world and his body were spinning around him, disconnected and far from his grasp as his head remained stagnant but stuck. After blinking and spotting Hattie’s thumb acting as a barrier as trickles of him slipped through the cracks of her fingers, he grounded himself in her frustrated blue gaze.

“If you keep hurting yourself, you’ll just make it worse!” Her nose scrunched up into a hard scowl, but he heard the lump in her throat underneath her irate bite. “Just stop!”

“Sorry,” he gurgled quietly. Her brows furrowed even more, and he added as gently as he could, “I’ll rest, kiddo. I’ll take it easy.”

“Promise?” She stared him down.

“Promise,” he breathed out, slumping.

She lowered him back into the bucket and a soft bloop sound was followed by flickers of drops as she pulled her hands out. He hummed to relieve some distress as he tried to force himself to relax.

“Maybe you just need sleep,” Hattie offered. She grumbled a bit, but he could tell she was trying to soften her tone.

“That’s usually all it is,” he agreed.

He did feel a similar exhaustion to all the times he pushed his time limit and got stuck in noodle form. Only this was much worse. Even when he was a human, he wasn’t sure he could ever remember a time he was so tired that he couldn’t move his muscles.

Leaning his eyes against the rim of the bucket for some semblance of security, he desperately hoped he wouldn’t be stuck like this. But even if he did eventually turn back to monster-normal, he had a sneaking suspicion he really screwed over his already sparse shapeshifting time.

“Do you want me to put the hat back over?” Hattie lifted her cap into his view. “To help you sleep?”

“No,” he said a little quickly. She lowered the hat and he added, sheepishly, “I know I can’t see much from here, but it’s better than nothing.”

“Okay. Go to sleep. Let me know if you need anything.” She scooted over to their campfire, and he heard the click of the lighter.

He sighed but tried to let the distant crackle of flame and the low tap of Hattie sketching on paper lull him into a semi-relaxed state. His eyes closed into tiny slits and as he dozed, a gentle and continuous rumble bubbled up from within.

“Dad?” Hattie whispered after a stretch of time, scooting back into view and looking down with her hair slipping from behind her ear.

“Hmm?” His eyes cracked open, slowly registering the rumbling sound. In his peripheral vision, the surface of the ebony-violet goop rippled steadily.

Hattie cracked a grin.

“You’re purring!” she said in slight disbelief before exploding into giggles.

“I’m—?” he began before he recognized the familiar and involuntary purr. A dusting of faint gold emanated from beneath the surface of the goop as he blushed.

“The whole bucket is shaking!” Hattie covered her mouth as her laugh trickled out in mirthful chimes.

Despite himself, Luka smiled, glad to hear her laugh.

“I guess it looks pretty silly,” he admitted, imagining the bucket wiggling around. Though now that he was becoming more alert, the rumbling slowed to a stop. In their absence, he realized how comforting the vibrations had been.

Hmm. Maybe the purring was a way to pull himself back together? It wasn’t something he could force or speed up, though. Typical.

“Do you want any food?” Hattie perked after she calmed down from laughing. “I was roasting some hot dogs.”

“I’ll try a bite,” his eyes and mouth shifted up and down in an affirmative nod that sent tiny waves splashing against the side of the bucket.

He couldn’t really tell if he was hungry, and he wasn’t sure how he was going to eat but he would do anything that would help him replenish some energy.

When Hattie returned with a torn piece of a hot dog, Luka opened his mouth and let out a gurgling, “ah.”

With a giggle, she gently lowered the hot dog as close as she could before dropping it. He felt the hot dog plop down and coughed. Hattie winced in apology as he closed his mouth and pensively chewed.

“I’m fine,” he said after a thick swallow. He couldn’t feel the lump of the hot dog anymore but in the past few years of dealing with his magic, goopy body, he learned to not ask questions he couldn’t answer and near the top of that list was wondering what the heck replaced his melted digestive track.

Hattie fed him a few more pieces and he swallowed the dismay of not being able to feed himself. Even though he had grown accustomed to relying on Hattie for help when his chameleon paws couldn’t work with delicate silverware, the familiar sorrow from the early days returned now that he didn’t even have hands.

After what he was certain was a late lunch, he napped on and off as Hattie remained nearby. When he would check in with her, she would present her latest sketches proudly, and even had one completed work in watercolor. It was a scene of the ocean, and while her sketchbook paper wasn’t meant to hold so much moisture, causing it to crinkle and warp when it dried, she excitedly explained that she was going to do other paintings exactly like it, but all showcasing the ocean at different times of the day. He told her that he was eager to see them, overjoyed that she was having fun with her gift like he had hoped she would.

If only he had been able to save up enough for a motel in time for her birthday, or at the very least, if only he hadn’t melted on her. But that was really his fault for pushing himself so hard.

He had just so badly wanted to make it special. She hadn’t even remembered her own birthday! What else was he supposed to do? Let himself turn into a monster? She deserved to have her actual dad on her birthday.

“Hey, Dad?” Her voice drew him out of his sinking despair.

“What’s up, kiddo?” he shifted his eyes in the bucket, trying to find a position that best allowed him to see her.

“What should I tell your boss?” She held out his phone, which was lit up with messages with letters in all caps.

Luka groaned.

“Can you read the messages for me?” He mentally prepared for the nerve-wracking ordeal of trying to explain himself without admitting to his boss that the reason he couldn’t make it to work was because he turned into a bucket of silly putty.

With Luka directing her, Hattie responded to the understandably angry but maybe harsher than necessary texts from his boss at the restaurant. Once that was done, he let out a heavy sigh, accidentally blowing a bubble in the goop, which shortly popped and splattered. He flinched when a drop landed in his eye.

“Do I have anything from the newspaper office?” Luka asked, dreading the thought of not only the manager getting upset when he found out no one had delivered newspapers in the morning, but of all the people who would no doubt call to complain about empty doorsteps.

“No,” Hattie replied slowly.

“Really?” Luka wasn’t sure if he should count that as good or bad. Either way, he was probably out of a job. “I’ll need to start looking for something else.”

“Why?” Hattie scooted closer, hugging her knees to her chest as she looked down at him.

“They’ve probably already decided to fire me,” he lamented with his mouth sinking and gurgling in the gunk.

“Nah.” She glanced away, tapping around on his phone.

He blinked up at her.

“Nah?” he repeated. When Hattie kept her gaze down and her lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes narrowed. “Hattie? What did you do?”

“I maybe did your deliveries for you?” she offered guiltily.

He stared at her.

“You what?” he sputtered, causing his sludge to ripple as panic seized him. “By yourself? Hattie! You just turned eight! My route is a couple miles long, and you would have had to bike before dawn! There are child labor laws! What do you mean you did my deliveries?”

“I had help!” Hattie hurried to explain. “I ran into a nice tourist I met yesterday, and he gave me a map and delivered half of the newspapers for me.”

“You worked with a stranger?” Luka demanded, shifting around in the bucket. “Harriet Princeton, you are not supposed to talk to strangers!”

“So, I’m only supposed to talk to you?” She threw her hands up in the air.

“No! I mean—that’s not the point!” he faltered, sloshing around as the bite in her words stung. Bits of goop splattered over the rim and Hattie jolted.

“Stop freaking out!” She helplessly tried to grasp at the stray droplets. “I can’t lose you again!”

He paused, tensing. Well, tensing as much as he could as a viscous liquid.

“Wh-what do you mean lose me again?” he pressed tightly.

“I thought you were gone when you melted,” she said with a cracking voice. She hugged her legs and rest her chin on her knees. “I thought I didn’t get all of you in time and you were gone, and I just wanted to help because you’re so tired all time but—” she trailed off in a squeak as tears filled her eyes.

“Hattie—” he shifted towards her, but the goop sputtered as he instinctively tried to reach out to his daughter. Liquid stung his eyes and he blinked rapidly. “Hattie, look at me please.”

She turned and revealed tears streaming down her cheeks.

Gold blurred his vision, but he pressed on.

“I’m sorry,” he began in a congested voice, thick with gunk and reverb. “I know you were just trying to help, and I appreciate it! But I don’t want you worrying about my jobs or money. You shouldn’t have to.”

His voice cracked and all too late, he realized that the reason he sounded so congested was partly because of the golden tears filling the bucket. They glittered in the goop, separated like oil drops in water. His breath hitched and the goop swelled.

“But I can—” he tried to continue as the tears slipped out and the goop splashed up when he instinctively tried to wipe them away with a hand that wasn’t there.

“You’re spilling!” Hattie interrupted, jolting upward and hurrying over, placing her arms around the rim but the added tears were causing his anxious sloshing to spill over. “Stop crying!”

“What?” He jolted, shifting his eyes around and catching glimpses of purple and gold staining her sleeves. Her dismayed features above him only encouraged his tears and he made a muffled sniffling noise as panic surged and his tears swelled.

“Dad!” she yelped. But her own distraught features cleaved through his squishy, melted chest.

“I-I can’t! Give me a moment!” Twisting away, he tried to lock his eyes on something to ground himself, but in his panic, he kept attempting to turn and wipe his tears. The spilling goop sloshed uncontrollably.

“Try to laugh!” Hattie begged. “Tell me a stupid joke!”

“Ah, uh.” He pressed his lips into a tight line as he struggled to think of something. “Um. You know what? This situation really pails in comparison to—uh—that one time we teleported into that bear den!”

“What?” Hattie furrowed her brows. But it looked like her tears halted in confusion.

“P-pails, like a pun? It’s a joke. It’s supposed to be funny. Please laugh,” he said weakly. He blinked and let out a tight exhale as he felt himself calm and the rest of the goop start to settle.

“That’s a stupid joke.” Hattie sniffled as she leaned back and slowly lifted her arms, revealing sleeves soaked with purple sludge.

“I got buckets of them.” He added a sardonic, “ha,” as the gold ebbed. While a few dancing droplets of tears wiggled in his goop, now that he was calmer, trembling splashes no longer spilled over the rim.

Hattie wrung out the sleeves. He flinched at the droplets that pelted his face and sent ripples along the surface.

“That’s even worse,” she sighed, though a small smile found its way onto her features. She tugged up one of her sleeves and gingerly reached over and wiped at the edge of his eye.

He grunted, squeezing it shut but when she pulled away, he watched her flick a golden droplet towards the grass. He sighed, blowing a few bubbles.

“Please don’t do my job tomorrow,” he said quietly. “We’ll be okay.”

She nodded slowly before thinking better of it.

“Only if you promise not to push yourself, okay?”

“Okay,” he said tiredly before he yawned. Sludge dribbled into his mouth, and he sputtered.

“Sleep.” She poked the goop. He shifted his eyes next to her finger, which was the closest he could come to giving her an encouraging nuzzle.

“What about you?” he asked, staring up at the canopy of leaves. There was still sunlight trickling down, but it seemed fainter.

“I can eat soon,” she shrugged.

“Wake me if you need anything,” he muttered, feeling his eyelids grow heavy.

Did he even have eyelids at this point? Maybe it was more that his eyes were sinking. Might be more apt.

Hattie promised to, but he had a feeling they both knew she would deal with any problem on her own before waking him. Frowning, he supposed the best thing he could do for her would be to recover as swiftly as possible.

He settled into the bucket, and soon enough, the sludge began to ripple as he automatically purred. He caught Hattie’s stifled snort at the vibrating bucket before he fell asleep.

Night blanketed the forest by the time he woke up again. Still purring, he blinked as he felt something shift. The rippling rumbles of goop seemed to be tightening and when he moved to lift his head, he peeked over the rim of the bucket. Relief swelled inside as he spotted Hattie’s back. She was drawing by the fire, safe and sound.

Edging backward, he tilted his head down, blinking at the vibrating goop as it slowly re-solidified into shape. After a moment, he lifted his noodle arms and wiggled his chameleon paws. Funny, he was actually relieved to see them for once. Once his tail formed, he heaved out a sigh. There wasn’t a drop of him left behind in the bucket, but now he took up less volume.

“Kiddo,” he called softly, floating up to the rim of the bucket and placing his hands on the edge, curling his tail beneath himself.

“Dad!” Hattie gasped when she saw his familiar form. Scrambling around, she darted over, and he flew up into her embrace.

“You’re tiny,” she muttered into the plush fluff around his neck. His tail waved back and forth as he returned her firm hug.

“I’m sure I’ll get back to normal size,” he guessed. Probably. After a long enough rest without using his shapeshifting.

Moments passed until he caught a low grumble coming from Hattie’s stomach. He craned his neck with a smirk.

“In the meantime, are there anymore marshmallows to share?”

“I ate them all. Remember our math quiz? Zero left.” Hattie said without missing a beat as she turned back around and brought him to the fireside. “Just kidding, I saved you some.”

“That’s my girl!” His tail waved harder as he chuckled.

He extended an arm towards the bag, noting that he couldn’t really stretch it like usual, and made a grasping motion. Hattie plopped the bag into her lap, still using an arm to hug him, and they both took turns popping the confections into their mouths.

Yes, after a week’s worth of rest, he would grow to his usual massive size and when he could shapeshift again, he would have to deal with the consequences of missing so much work. But until then, he and Hattie would take it day by day and one marshmallow at a time.

#ahit coffee shop au #doodledrawsthings #ahit prince #ahit hat kid #my writing #*kickflips into ur tumblr experience wearing rubber fishing suspenders and a cap that says 'words want me. ghost dads fear me'*#Me: Bucket's haunted #You probably: What?#Me not breaking eye contact as i grab a pail and head for the exit: Bucket's haunted #this got very long whoops #but i hope its a fun read!#thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy!

257 notes · View notes

ladyyatexel · 2 years

Text

Strange Shapes Snippets Volume 2

Here is more of my incredibly long Malik/Ryou problem!

Today's Adventure: having long distance feelings with Monster World

Upon confirmation that Malik both has and can use video capabilities, they struggle through an hour or more of configuring and compatibility issues before the first connection works. The image of Ryou moving on screen sets off a spark of much wanted reunion and reignites whatever it was that made Malik put an ancient artifact into a bag destined for airport security. It’s the first time he’s seen Ryou’s face since they were separated.

Ryou is pretty even when lagging and pixelated. His clothes look too big and his hair kind of flips at the ends and the light from his monitor gives him a glow like the moon against his vaguely defined apartment.

“Sorry about the mess. I’m still finishing a project.”

Malik is not looking at the mess.

“What is it?”

“Oh, it’s kind of a redesign of a game world I made before.”

“Can I see?”

“Um, we can try. Can you even see me?”

“Yeah.” And he’s so happy to see Ryou at all and looking real and he’s adorable and beautiful and weird and makes sense all at the same time and Malik still does not see a mess. “It’s a little bit choppy, but it’s okay.”

“Okay, hang on.”

Ryou gets close to the screen and then the image gets patchy, flashing in and out of dark as Ryou unhooks his camera from whatever he has it balanced on. When things stabilize again, it’s difficult to tell what the camera is pointing at or even from what direction.

“Hello?” Malik tries.

“Still here, can you see?” The image is a little unstable but when it focuses it does so on a tiny village in the middle of getting a new paint job.

“Oh, yeah, there it is.”

“I’ve just been making some small changes right now. Colors, mostly, but I might change the setting a little, too. I played a game with Yuugi and the others with this, and it was really special to me, but I just have to change some things about it now.”

“Why?”

At first, Malik thinks the connection has frozen, but then Ryou moves the camera view to include himself next to his fantasy world. The scale is surprising.

“Sorry, I think I’m just used to hesitating when I talk to people about this. But I don’t need to do that with you.” His tone shifts from polite apology to casual confiding. The glow that accompanies Ryou smiling even through unpleasant memories might just be a lighting problem with his camera. The warmth of being some kind of special exception is definitely from the camera. Definitely.

“You remember I told you about my hand?” Ryou holds up his left hand as he talks. “The spirit in the Ring used my diorama to do it. Something I made for fun. You see the castle?”

The image swings from Ryou and shakily centers on a grey building painted to resemble stone. The tops of all its towers come to points, except what should be the largest one, which is missing.

Ryou continues, his voice sadder than Malik remembers. “He used the top of the tower. It went the whole way through.” Ryou puts his hand into frame palm up and lowers his arm, simulating the impalement. His face is off screen, but with the camera pulled toward him his voice is louder, clearer, closer, realer, like he’s right there. “I tried to clean it and put it back to the way it was afterwards, but the force and the blood… It was ruined. I’ve needed to make a new one since then. Now that everything is over I actually have the chance.”

Malik curls his fingers against his palm imagining the force of the injury. In various places around the world, people are living with similar damage that is directly Malik’s fault. His fingers curl tighter, pressing fingernails into his palm.

“Is your hand okay?” It’s too small a question for the size of the event. He didn’t give the injury the weight and consideration it was due while Ryou was in Egypt. It’s another pang of guilt, even though, at the time, he’d fully expected to deliver his apology and then be asked to never speak to Ryou again. Now, he’s finding himself aching to offer comfort he doesn’t know how to provide for an injury that healed long before he met its owner.

The tiny figures are, unsurprisingly, cute. Even through the awkward lighting of the camera, they look like Ryou’s friends, especially Yuugi, who has to have been a particularly custom-heavy job.

“I love making these. I still have a lot from before… so it’s nice to be able to make new ones.”

“You just use them like tokens?”

“Not like you’re thinking. They just represent where and who you are in the world.”

Malik laughs. “I could use one of those.”

Either missing Malik’s existential joke entirely or choosing to ignore it, Ryou leans enthusiastically toward the camera. “We should play! I can make a miniature for you too!”

"I've never played that kind of game before."

"It's fun!" He glances at the little figure in his hand. "And, you know, a bit of an escape."

“Still escaping, huh?”

Ryou’s gaze on the miniature softens into tenderness Malik feels he shouldn’t be seeing. “Always, I think.”

Perhaps fueled by the feeling that he shouldn’t, he just wants to look. Whatever Ryou is feeling is pretty and real and makes Malik ache and just seeing it will be better than hearing the rules of another kind of game, no matter how fun.

“You should teach me, then.” He says it quietly, maybe reluctantly.

Instead of vanishing, the soft expression turns toward Malik. “Really!?”

“Yeah,” he replies weakly.

Ryou’s glow for this topic is enchanting. Tenderness is replaced with the camera shaking with his enthusiasm, but it’s just as wonderful. “Let me get you some materials, we can see what kind of character you’ll be!”

He’s grateful they aren’t playing Duel Monsters, but if anyone could make Malik feel like going near it again, it would be Ryou.

☆☆☆

Ryou holds the figure close to the camera. At first it’s too close and he has to pull back. “Here we go. What do you think?”

The tiny sculpture even has an extra swish of dark paint under its eyes and over its cheeks. It’s simple but touching to look at something made for him (and of him).

“It’s great. I like his eyes.”

“That’s my favorite part too.”

The pause as Ryou smiles at the screen wraps itself around Malik’s lungs and for a very warm breathless second he could swear Ryou is not talking about the figure.

Ryou reaches off screen and the moment vanishes only to be replaced by one just as warm.

“Here,” Ryou says, putting a white figure with a hood next to the tiny fantasy version of Malik. “Now they can go together.”

The white figure has Ryou’s eyes and his hair and is a healer.

"That suits you."

☆☆☆

#angstshipping #malik ishtar #marik ishtar #ryou bakura #fanfic #strange shapes

24 notes · View notes

sebstanseabass · 3 years

Text

Afterglow (A Bucky Barnes AU fan fiction) - Chapter 4

Previous chapter links:

Afterglow chapters

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

CHAPTER FOUR

The cab ride towards the White Wolf was much faster and louder than you anticipated. The cab driver's blaring music from the radio was so loud it felt like you were inside a rave. You and Bucky had to yell over the music for you to talk about what has been happening in your lives for the past few months. You couldn't summarize everything in a five-minute cab ride. So far, these were just some milestones you both gathered (well, more of his): while Bucky was in different parts of the world (Greece, Macau, Amsterdam, Monaco, Aruba) managing interrelation business and hosting nightly parties and whatnots, you were just in New York tending to drunkards (and that includes Peter sometimes) and taking photos of whatever products that come your way.

At that moment, you saw your life pass by in black and white, while Bucky's in color -- just a parade of rainbows trailing behind him wherever he goes.

Yet he still found the things you did interesting.

You wondered what the word interesting meant to him. Of course, you didn't bother asking him that. Perhaps he just felt sorry and wanted to make you feel good.

The moment you got out of the cab, you guys took a deep breath, thankful that that awful ride was over. The music floated away as the cab sped up in the streets.

"What a dick." Bucky commented, watching the cab race through the streets. Any more speed, the cab would've flown in the air.

"I know." You snorted. "God, that was an awful ride. I felt like I was at a frat party."

"Funny. You don't look like someone who would go to one." He joked.

"I went once." You defended. "With Parker."

Bucky raised his eyebrows at you and stared. Blue eyes piercing right through you in disbelief. "Okay." You sighed. "I picked his drunk ass up at that party. But I really have been to a party with Parker." You left out that detail of you and Peter making out at that party. That was just between you and Peter and you wouldn't want to include his stepbrother in it. Or perhaps Bucky knew about it. You did just found out they talk to each other almost every night. But as you told Bucky about that party, you received no reaction whatsoever which meant he knew nothing. You felt good about that.

You and Bucky stood in front of the White Wolf, trying to shake out the ringing in your ears. Stupid cab ride. Why you couldn't just walk here was because of Bucky. Apparently, he was still a bit hungover. You wondered what would take him to get fully sober.

You stared at the wolf headstone once more, admiring it for the second time today.

"I commissioned an artist for that." Bucky spoke, poking his finger on his right ear. "Just found him on the subway one day. He was selling some sculptures he's made. Asked him if he could make me one and ta-da!"

"It is beautiful."

"I have others he has made inside." With this, Bucky started to walk towards the inside of his hotel.

The uniformed man greeted you on the steps. You sent him a knowing smile once his eyes landed on yours. He smiled back as you introduced yourselves to each other.

"Is she still in my room?" Bucky asked the uniformed man who you now know goes by the name Leonard.

"Yes, sir." He replied. "She said she'd -- "

"I know what she said." Bucky groaned, remembering what you'd told him earlier. "I'll call you from up there if anything goes wrong, okay Leonard?"

"Yes, sir. I'll be on alert."

You watched the exchange in utter fascination. It was like watching something straight out of an action movie: "I'll be on high alert" "I'll tell you when the coast is clear" "Roger that" "I'll call you when something goes wrong"

The only thing was, this wasn't some action movie though Bucky did have a plan. You just never knew about it until you got in the elevators.

"Here's the plan." He started. "We go in holding hands, I'll introduce you as my girlfriend. Maybe fiancé! When she sees you, tell her you're my fiancé and when she tells you that she slept with me, I'm going to deny and you're going to believe me because as my fiancé, you deeply love me and believe everything I say."

"Ew, it's like I'm a sub."

"Wow, you're a dom?"

"I can be." You winked at him.

"Huh, I honestly thought you're a virgin. You know, that type of 'never been kissed, never been loved' type."

In your head, you started singing the rest of the song. "I'm an angel in the streets and devil in the sheets, Bucky." You joked which he took seriously seeing it on the look on his face. "Anyway, your plan?"

"Right! She'd yell and go nuts until she gives up and then leaves the hotel -- "

"Then we get married and let Peter pay for our honeymoon!" You finished for him with a sarcastic smile on your face.

He smirked. "I like the way you think, Aria. But I don't think Peter's gonna want that."

"What do you mean?"

"W-well, he's not gonna afford it is what I meant."

"You're probably right." You gave him a low chuckle. "You're rich. Pay for our honeymoon." You joked.

"As soon as we get this bitch out of here, yes I will, doll." He scrunched his nose up and winked at you right before the elevator doors opened. Swiftly, Bucky grabbed your hand and intertwined your fingers. "Let's do this."

Hand in hand, you stepped out of the elevator. What stood in front of you was the same woman from earlier this morning. Body still clinging to Bucky's shirt. Faint red lipstick still smeared on some parts outside her lips. Blonde hair still disheveled. If you didn't know any better she was just here in the penthouse, waiting, not moving even a single inch.

You put your hand on Bucky's arm, hiding a faint expression of how big it felt against your skin. "Honey, who is this?"

"I-I don't know!"

The unnamed woman managed to step forward, looking Bucky in the eyes. "What do you mean you don't know? We slept last night!" Then, she looked at you. "Who the hell are you?"

"His fiancé." There was a sly smug tone in your voice. Even on your face.

"Fiancé? He didn't tell me anything about a fucking fiancé!"

"What the hell are you saying?" Bucky yelled. His grip tightened on your hand. "I've never even met you! How did you get in here?"

"We spent the night together, what the hell, Bucky!" She bellowed like a monster, then her voice softened. "I-I told you I love you."

"You're crazy."

"Call security." You said. "Now, Bucky!"

While Bucky grabbed for his phone, the woman pleaded, still trying to convince you that she slept with your fake fiancé. "If he says he doesn't know you," you responded, "then I believe him." Bucky slipped away from you, probably calling Leonard from downstairs. He gave you a knowing look, as if ushering you to unleash some kind of hell on his one-night stand. "You need to go, lady, if you don't want to be banned in every hotel here in New York. Yes, my fiancé can do that. So better get your ass out of here or -- "

"Okay, okay!" She held up her hands, giving up. "I'm out of here! Jesus fucking Christ -- " She mumbled more under her breath as she took of Bucky's clothes, revealing a white tank top underneath. She picked up her heels that were scattered on the living room: one shoe on the couch, the other near a foot of a small table. Picked up some pair of jeans on the carpet before stepping inside the elevator.

"I wish you luck in your fucking marriage." She said, tone filled with rage. Then, she proceeded to flip Bucky one last time before she disappeared behind the elevator doors, eyes boring into Bucky's.

"Okay, she's going down. Tell her to never come here again. Thanks, Lenny." Bucky dropped the phone call and gave you a smile. "And thank you for your performance."

You bowed, like how actors bow after a play ends, and flashed him a smile. "Why, thank you."

"Thanks to you I'm never gonna see that woman again in my life."

You turned your back on him, seeing the place for the first time without a tainted image of the woman. A line of little sculptures near every wall (perhaps the ones he commissioned from that subway artist). Family photos, albums and trophies took up a whole cabinet. You shifted your gaze towards the living room where a nice brown couch sits on top of a beige rug, which faced a huge flat screen television. Two pairs of love seats sat across from each other. A glass table set in the middle. On the back wall was a photograph of Bucky which took the whole space. He wore a neat, well-pressed grey suit, sitting on what seemed like a throne inside a home office, one leg stretched outwards and one leg just resting normally on the floor. He had this head tilt on one side, right hand under his chin, blue eyes looking directly at the camera. On its floor were stacks of magazines, and papers.

Even you couldn't deny how good Bucky looked in the photo but the photograph itself? You knew you could do better than that.

You turned around and found Bucky nowhere. "Bucky?"

He then emerged from what seemed like a kitchen because he was carrying loads of food and trod towards where you were and placed everything on the coffee table. "Yeah?"

"If I wasn't here, what would've you done?"

He shrugged, and opened a yogurt. "Probably stay in your apartment forever."

"Wow," you sat on the couch, watching him devour the food on the table, "seems like you've planned everything out."

"Seems like it, yeah."

"Do you always do this, Bucky?"

"What do you mean?"

"Have sex with girls, then make up a lie to get them out of your life."

"Oh, that was the first time." He replied. "Those three words really freaked me out. I've never heard that come from someone besides my family. Never even told anyone I've loved them, again, except my family."

You nodded in response and looked around the penthouse some more, admiring some paintings, big and small, on the walls. Perhaps some were real, perhaps some were just school ofs. On your right, was a draped curtain covering a whole glass wall that overlooked New York city. Bucky clicked some button somewhere which let the curtains open, letting some of the New York sun inside. From here, one could see the whole view of New York. All its pleasure, glory, grime, and lowliness.

Oh, the things you would give to live in a place like this. If you wanted to take in the beauty of New York, you had to climb up on the fire exit towards the rooftop. And the view from up there wasn't as pretty as this one. All the pretty spots were behind million dollar skyscrapers.

You looked at Bucky once more who leaned against the love seat, then closed his eyes. That same fuzzy image, which you thought you had buried at the back of my mind, resurfaced.

"Bucky?"

He shot straight up. "Yeah?"

"Have we... met each other before?"

A frown formed on his face, his blue eyes meeting yours, his gaze intense; as if he was trying to put a finger on something, on you. But then he gave up, telling you perhaps you'd just seen him somewhere here in New York the last time he was here, bumped into him. Something like that.

You agreed. Maybe that was it.

Again, you pushed that image at the back of your mind, hoping it would never come up while Bucky was still here.

You were about to ask Bucky how long he was planning to stay in New York before partying in every country outside America when your phone rang.

It was Steve. You picked it up immediately. "Hey, Steve. Is everything okay?"

Bucky shot his head towards you, perhaps wondering who this Steve was.

"Hey." He replied. His voice was groggy, like he just woke up. "There's been some misunderstanding with the shipments. They thought I said drop them in the morning. Long story short, the shipments are just outside the pub's door."

"What? They can't do that!"

"They have a lot of deliveries today so they had to. I told them to wait for you but those are impatient bastards. New shipment boys."

You cursed then stood up. "I'm actually not in the apartment right now. I'm somewhere else. Not important. I'm on my way."

"Get there fast, Aria."

"I will, don't worry. Bye, Steve."

Once you got off the phone, you told Bucky the whole situation.

"Let's go then!" He said with much enthusiasm. "Those drinks are no good sitting out there. How else am I going to make you the best drink you'll ever have, darling?"

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #bucky x y/n #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes story #fan fic #fan fiction #bucky barnes fan fiction #thank u so much 4 all the support ily all #chapter 4 yay

65 notes · View notes

kimjihyun-archive · 3 years

Note

hey! i hope it’s not too burdening if I ask for jihyun fluff, the best mint haired boy! thank you so much!

adoration | jihyun kim

WARNINGS: you know me, an ungodly amount of fluff, some earl grey tea, v is once again pining but guess what?!? he does something about it!!

WORD COUNT: 1.2k

AUTHOR’S NOTE: it’s never a bother!! i was so happy to take this request, i cannot even begin to express it! i am, at my core, an absolute whore for v, so i’ll write fics about him any chance i get :)

“You’re back.” V’s frame hung in the doorway of his apartment, watching as the smile crept up her lips.

“Well, what can I say?” she mused, her voice numbingly sweet. “I just can’t seem to stay away from this place.”

He laughed, his gaze lingering over her for a moment before he stepped back, his arm gesturing her into his home.

“Well, I hope you know you’re always welcome.” She closed the door behind her, the lock gently clicking into place as her boots found their rightful place on the rug, the toes still soaked from the rain.

V’s apartment always seemed to smell like home—the undeniable scent of warm honey that smothered the rooms in an irreplaceable brilliance. Soft cafe music hummed from a radio in the kitchen, low lights and burning candles illuminating the space. It was… cozy, to say the least.

He reached out to grab her jacket as she shrugged it off her shoulders before he hesitated, catching a glimpse of his paint-stained fingers.

“They’re dry, I promise.” She huffed, a breath of laughter escaping her lips.

“I don’t think I’d notice even if they weren’t” She handed it over so he could hang it from the coat rack behind him. “It’s an old jacket.”

“Ah,” his fingers fumbled with the collar, draping it softly over the rack. “It’d be a shame if something were to happen to it, though. It suits you wonderfully.” Heat bubbled under her skin, the warmth of affection evident throughout her flesh.

She stood there for a moment, rubbing her palms together in attempts to soothe them from the chill of the city streets. Rain was no uncommon occurrence in the city, but such a thing so late in the year was almost unheard of.

“So,” she finally spoke up, her eyes gathering the strength to meet his. “What are you working on?” Her elbow jetted out, gesturing towards his hands.

“Oh, I would love to show you, but would you like some tea first? It looks absolutely frigid out there.” She hummed, stepping into the kitchen.

“I can get it.” Her footsteps were light against the floor as she snatched the kettle out of one of the cabinets, filling it under the sink, and placing it onto the stove. V smiled, watching as she moved so fluidly throughout his home.

He thanked her and she hummed in reply, her voice reverberating throughout the apartment.

After she moved out, it’d felt emptier than he ever cared to admit. They both knew her presence was only supposed to last long enough for him to recover from surgery, but the day she moved out left an undeniable melancholy feeling over the apartment.

He considered himself more than lucky that she returned often. It started with her dropping by when she was in the neighborhood, bringing him a plethora of produce she’d bought at the farmers’ market. But this slowly turned into weekly visits, and that turned into her spending more time in his apartment than her own.

And yet, V found himself doing anything other than complaining.

Her fingers lingered over the steam that arose as water dripped from the kettle in her hands. She didn’t have to ask anymore. She knew which teas he liked, his favorite mug, how long he steeped it for. Truthfully, she knew everything about him. She had for a long time.

Silently, she slid the cup towards him and he held it between his fingers, a content hum falling from his mouth. It was Earl Grey again.

“Now,” she sipped from the mug in her hands, a smile pulling at the edges of her cheeks. “Your project.”

“Oh.” V slid his way out of the seat, gesturing her to follow him down the hall, towards his studio. The door was open, a wave of warmth spilling from the frame.

He watched her step into the room, a flutter roaming deep in his chest. Her features grew wide with the same wonder they did the first time she entered, her fingers dancing along the edges of empty canvases.

A painting sat in the middle of the room.

The canvas was splattered in an array of colors. Short brush strokes painting streaks in the morning sky, long navy lines shaping the arms of his couch, and a woman sitting directly in the middle—her legs tucked under her and a mug in her lap.

“Is that..?” She approached it slowly, tiny footsteps propelling her forward. He tilted his head, realizing the shock he had put her in, and he couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. If she didn’t like it, would she feel obligated to say she did? If she didn’t want her image immortalized in an array of oil paints, would she tell him?

“Jihyun.” His ears perked up at the sound of his name—his real name.

When he said it was time for him to start going by Jihyun Kim again, she was more than supportive, but the switch took time. More often than not they both found themselves falling back onto old ways and V remained, well, V. His real name seemed to be reserved for moments like these. Moments when the world grew quiet and the soft lilt of her voice settled deep within his ears. He grew to enjoy them—await them, even.

“Did you paint me?” He hesitated, slowly reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder.

“I did. I deeply apologize if you don’t enjoy it, I can always scrap it if—”

“No.” His mouth hung opened as she interrupted him, her voice still barely breaking the humming of his heaters. “It’s beautiful.”

She turned to face him, pure adoration settled deep within her bones.

“It’s beautiful.”

V stumbled over replying with a small ‘you’re beautiful,’ but hesitated. The words felt too clunky—too foreign in his mouth.

“Thank you,” is what he settled on. A smile beamed across his features, his tongue brushing against his bottom lip.

They stood in silence for a moment, gratefulness pouring across his features, and affection spread over her own. Under his gaze, he could see everything about her. Every detail atop her skin, every color that dotted her irises, and every part of her that laid deeper than that. Is this what she saw when she looked at him—when they looked at each other?

Before he could think any further, they both found themselves leaning in. The exchange was wordless, the space between them growing smaller and smaller until suddenly, their lips touched.

The kiss was nearly nothing at all, but the buzzing sensation that grew from his mouth to across his cheeks was enough to make his chest soar. His fingers reached for her hip, a small gesture of devotion, one to pull her in further.

She melted into him, her hands reaching up to hold his jaw, her forehead pressed against his. This moment was long-awaited. So many tireless nights, and reading books, and clicking through the pictures on his camera. So many favorite teas, and stolen glances, and moments that he wouldn’t trade for the world.

His breath hitched, fingers reaching up to brush her bottom lip, and a confession, just loud enough for her to hear, falling from his mouth.

“I have wished to do that every time you came back.”

#jihyun kim #jihyun kim x reader #jihyun kim x mc #v x reader #v x mc #mystic messenger #mystic messenger fanfic #thank you anon!!!#getting this request made my day!#i hope you like it :)#Anonymous

113 notes · View notes

immabethehero · 3 years

Text

Marvin’s MegaBirthday Story

Guess who made a Megamind AU with Marvin as the title character?

Here’s a quick list of characters so you won’t get confused about who’s who:

Marvin, The Malevolent Magician - Megamind

Dr. Schneeplestein, the Doctor - Minion, but human

The Brighton Shepherd - Metro Man

Jackieboy Man, the Red Marauder - Sidekick to the Shepherd, original role of sorts

Chase Brody, news reporter - Roxanne Ritchi

Anthony/Anti - Hal Stewart, without the creepy simping

CW: Police brutality, hints of starvation, strangulation and mentions of electrocution

It was a glorious day in Brighton City. Even the weather seemed aware of it as the sun shone down brightly on the silver skyscrapers and the brand new museum built into the city square.

To celebrate the city’s greatest superhero, the grand, new museum had been dedicated to the city’s greatest hero: The Brighton Shepherd. In between the two buildings was a giant curtain, hiding a 55 foot statue for the superhero.

Reporters came to the site as early as 6 am before the crowds could roll in. Among them was the up-and-coming journalist, Chase Brody, who ran the news vlog: “Just Your Average Report”. Wearing a brand new grey and white suit to honour the Shepherd’s signature colour, Chase did vocal warm-ups while his cameraman, Anthony, set up the equipment. Unlike Chase, who had dressed handsomely for the occasion, Anthony simply wore a graphic t-shirt and a fishing vest with blue jeans. Chase tried not to let that get to him. In all the fifteen months he’d known Anthony, Chase had never seen the man wear anything other than graphic tees and the fishing vest. Today obviously wasn’t much different to Anthony.

“We’re on!” Anthony said. Chase held up his microphone in time for the camera light to turn red; he exclaimed, “Happy Brighton Shepherd Day, Brighton City! It’s a beautiful day in our beautiful downtown, where we’re here to honour a beautiful man: The Brighton Shepherd. His heart is as big as an ocean that’s inside a bigger ocean. For years, he’s been watching us with his super-vision, saving us with his super strength, and caring for us with his super heart. Now, it’s our turn to give something back! This is Chase Brody, reporting live from the dedication of the Brighton Shepherd Museum.”

Chase signaled to Anthony, who snorted as he turned the camera off.

“Damn, the stuff the producers make you read nowadays is incredibly cheesy. Have you considered writing your own stuff?”

“I have. That was one of my pieces,” Chase said with a grin. He reveled in Anthony’s look of horror.

“I mean… I can’t believe that in our modern day society, they let… actual art get onto the news,” Anthony stammered out.

“Nice save, Anthony.”

“Cool. Can we go get a coffee now?”

“Come on, it’s time to get into the Brighton Shepherd Day spirit!” Chase said, nudging his coworker.

Anthony rolled his eyes. “Please. If the Brighton Shepherd really was all that great, he’d be able to properly protect you from the Malevolent and his crazy Doctor. For someone who gets kidnapped and rescued all the time, you sure don’t have good security.”

Chase sighed. This debate again. “I mean, it’s good for my channel! I get to film bits and pieces of the Malevolent’s laboratory! Great publicity.”

“You take too many chances with that man, I swear. What happens if the Malevolent snaps and gets violent with you? The Shepherd and his sidekick won’t be there to protect you. You could die, Chase.”

“The Malevolent won’t hurt me. If he truly wanted to, he would have done so the first time he kidnapped me,” Chase snapped. “If anything, he just wants me for more publicity. I am a popular news source.”

“Yeah? Well, they don’t always strike at first sight, Lois Lane. The dude might be waiting for the perfect moment to torture you,” Anthony continued. “I mean, even if he doesn’t invent the machines, his sidekick is smart enough to make them! I swear that man has seen some stuff and wants to inflict it on the city.”

“The Malevolent and Doctor never want to torture. Their machines may look scary at first, but they’re useless. They only want to scare.”

Anthony began loading up the truck. “You’re too trusting.The Malevolent Magician has the power to mutilate and kill in ways your “friendship-is-magic” brain could never comprehend. The Doctor is no better. They’re both just waiting to strike. Once they do, the Shepherd’s presence won’t feel so reassuring, hm?”

Anthony had his back turned long enough for Chase to feel a cold presence beside him. The smell of gas flooded his senses. The reporter turned to hear a window roll down, though he didn’t see a car. Odd.

Instead a white plague doctor mask glared back at him. Chase groaned. Here he thought he might be able to avoid being kidnapped and used as leverage by the Malevolent Magician. Apparently not! The Malevolent’s sidekick, simply known as the Doctor, was here to claim his damsel in distress.

The Doctor raised a spray bottle and squirted it directly in Chase’s face. Chase barely had time to scream as a sudden drowsiness overtook him and the whole world went dark.

Step one was complete. The annoying vlogger was in the back of the van. With that accomplished, it was time to pick up the villain. Dr. Henrik von Schneeplestein, known to the city as the sidekick to the Malevolent Magician, drove through the busy town square and out of the main city.

The prison where the Malevolent lay was outside of town in a secluded location, or rather, in the middle of the highway leading into the city. Despite its odd location, the security was incredible. 200 security officers patrolled the site, with at least three officers supervising a special room under intense lock and key. The Malevolent himself was usually locked in large chains that only unlocked at certain times, or if Mal had behaved himself for a certain amount of time.

Schneep arrived to see the prison in chaos. Sirens blared loud enough to burst a person’s eardrums while police ran into the grey building, yelling to each other and pulling out their guns.

Amid all the chaos stood a man with a thick white moustache, standing in front of the large electrical gates, The man held up his wrist enough for Schneep to spy a silver watch on his wrist and sighed in relief. The watch had worked.

“Well, hello, good looking. Need a ride?” Schneep said, opening the door.

“Always, my dear doctor!” the man said as he hopped in. He slammed the door closed as Schneep slammed his foot on the gas and flew off.

The man twisted the watch’s case and transformed back into Malevolent. The supervillain turned to Schneep with an evil grin. “Nice job sending me the watch, Doctor! Let’s ride!”

“As you wish, my Wickedness!” Schneep yelled.

The maltreatment Mal received from the prison was not lost on the doctor. His sharp cheekbones were grimy and more pronounced, and his wrists were almost skeletal. Dark shadows hung below his eyes, and it was not from eyeliner. Schneep held back a sad sigh. Thank goodness he left a snack for Mal when they returned to the evil lair. That part could be solved.

Back at Brighton City Square, the show was ready to begin. As city officials made their speeches, two superheroes waited behind a painted brick wall to make an entrance.

The illustrious Brighton Shepherd fixed his mask and combed his dark brown hair back. Beside him was his sidekick: the Red Marauder, clad in red, green, and blue leather. Marauder kept peeking behind the wall.

“Malevolent is safe behind bars as of right now, you can relax, Jackie,” Shepherd said, rubbing his protégé’s back.

“I can’t find Chase!” Marauder whispered back. “I’ve scanned the crowds three times and there’s no sign of his face.”

“Perhaps he’s stuck in traffic?” Shepherd said, smoothing out the creases in Marauder’s blue cape. His sidekick really needed to learn how to take care of himself.

“He would have sent me a text if that had happened,” Marauder said with a sigh.

“Went for a cup of coffee with Anthony?”

Marauder turned to the crowd. “Anthony is currently eating a donut by one of the food vendors. I think Malevolent and the Doctor kidnapped Chase again!” His eyes filled with tears.

The Shepherd sighed and put a hand on Marauder’s shoulder. “Okay, when the mayor does her speech, we’ll do a quick speedrun through town. He can’t be far. Don’t worry, we’ll get him back.”

Marauder nodded, blinking back tears. No time to cry when there’s a battle.

“Shepherd? It’s time,” an employee whispered. The Brighton Shepherd cracked his neck.

“Show time, baby.” He punched the painted brick wall concealing him, creating a perfect hole. “Alright, put your hands in the air!” he yelled to the crowd.

The lair lit up as the car entered and parked in its appointed place. Marvin threw the door open and breathed in the familiar smell of the evil, abandoned, Monster Munch snack factory. A long time ago, it smelled of moldy cheese puffs and rat manure, but now it smelled of malevolence, metal, and a whole lot of cologne.

No matter how many times he arrived, the sweet scent always relaxed the supervillain after a hard day in jail or fighting the Shepherd. “Oh Doc, there’s no place like our evil lair!”

“I’ve kept it cold and damp, just the way you like it!” Schneep said, hauling the sleeping Chase out of the car.

A swarm of tiny robots flew over to Marvin, their engines whirring with delight. The model was a small purple circle with four robotic legs that could grip and lift up to 1,000 pounds. Of course, each had cat ears attached to the sides of their heads and a cat tail at the back. The CATs, Marvin had fondly called them. Their singular glowing yellow eyes in the center of their body looked up at their darling master.

“The CATs have certainly missed you, sir!” Schneep exclaimed.

Marvin bent down to caress their smooth heads. “Did you miss your daddy? Who’s a menacing little android? You are, yes, you are!”

One CAT held up a ball of twine. Marvin grabbed it and tossed it across the lair, the CATs trailing after it.

Two older models of the CATs held up a curtain while two others held up Marvin’s new suit. Marvin gratefully ripped off the ugly bluish-grey prison rags and changed into his white button-up, black dress pants, and sparkly purple vest. A CAT draped his famous black cloak with magenta lining around his shoulders while another handed him his beautiful cat mask with the magician’s card designs drawn on. He happily donned the mask with pride and stepped out.

“How do I look, Doctor? Do I look evil?” Marvin asked, spinning.

“Horrifyingly striking, sir,” Schneep said. He opened a small gate to an elevator platform, “Shall we?”

At the top, Schneep set Chase down on a chair while Marvin checked all the monitors and buttons.

“Everything ready?”

“Of course! I would never leave anything unchecked before a big event!” Schneep said. Beside the doctor, Chase began to stir, grunting and yelling muffled by the bag.

“He’s awake! Quick everyone, places!” Marvin ordered. He jumped onto his chair and motioned a small CAT to lie down in his lap while he fixed his hair once more.

Schneep ripped the bag off of Chase’s head as Marvin twirled his chair around, menacingly stroking the CAT. “Mr. Brody, we meet again.”

“Would it kill you to wash the bag?” Chase complained, “it fucking stinks and the spray bottle is no better!”

“You can scream all you want, Brody, I’m afraid no one can hear you!” Malevolent announced. Chase remained stone-faced.

Marvin frowned. “Why isn’t he screaming?”

Schneep sighed exasperatedly and bent down next to Chase, “Mr. Brody, if you don’t mind-”

“Screaming sounds a lot like this: aaaahhhhh!” Malevolent demonstrated. “I mean, that’s a poor example but-”

The CAT sitting on his lap bit his hand. Malevolent emitted a high-pitched shriek as he tried to shake the little robot off.

“Not to sound like a sadist but it’s more fun when you do it,” Chase deadpanned.

“Very funny,” the Doctor snapped. “You’ll be singing a different tune when the Brighton Shepherd is defeated right before your eyes!”

Ignoring both of them, Chase decided to examine the observatory, the usual spot for Malevolent and Shepherd’s battles. Most of it was the usual, a long control booth circling the room, full of buttons and levers that would release death traps, lasers, and other lame inventions. Above the panel were monitors of different sizes. On one side of the elevator was a broken vending machine where Doctor grabbed his sleeping spray, while on the other side was a strange metal sphere with axes and spikes sticking out of it (Chase asked and even Malevolent had no idea what it was).

“Speaking of watching, do you have your camera set up?” Malevolent asked, finally yanking off the biting CAT.

“Yup! It’s in the pin this time! Anthony helped me set it up!” Chase puffed his chest out to show it off.

Malevolent ran a hand through his thick black hair and twirled around, letting his cape fly in the wind.

“So guys, what’s on the menu for today? Robosheep? Typhoon cheese? A big ball of aluminum that will roll around town?” Chase asked.

Behind his plague doctor mask, Schneeplestein grinned. It was his time to shine! “Actually, we created a cool ray that uses the sun to make explosive lasers, wanna see?!” He excitedly rushed over to the main control booth and began typing in the passcode to turn it on.

Marvin yelped and pulled Schneep away from the booth, “Easy there, Doc, we’ll show it in time!”

“Brody wanted to see it!” Schneep protested. “It’s not like it would hurt, would it?”

“Think, Doctor! He’s using his nosy reporter skills to find out all our secrets!” Malevolent accused, snarling at Chase.

Chase rolled his eyes, chuckling. These two could be quite entertaining. “What secrets?! You’re so predictable!”

“Oh, that’s the insult for today?! Tell me, my dear Brody, would you call this predictable?” Marvin pulled down a lever and the floor around Chase opened up.

“Your alligators, yes!” Chase nodded in greeting to the snapping reptiles. “Yeah, I was just thinking about these guys on the way over!”

Truth be told, Chase was dreaming of riding a large parrot to Disney World while in the car. But Malevolent didn’t need to know that.

Marvin turned back to the panel. How dare Chase see through his armour?! He quickly slammed a button. “What about this?”

A sharp razor painted blood red danced in Chase’s face. “That’s kind of tacky.”

Marvin punched another button and a junky invention of multiple chainsaws attached to the ceiling lowered down. The chainsaws had gotten their chains stuck to each other and could barely move. Chase pretended to contemplate it. “Mm, juvenile.”

Marvin pulled another lever. “What about this?!”

A giant fart gun shot green gas out. Chase gagged. “Gross and immature!”

“What’s this one do?!” A weak fire machine coughed out small bits of fire.

“That’s just sad,” Chase said. He looked up and nearly jumped out of his seat. A small spider floated downwards. “Is the spider new?”

Marvin turned to Schneeplestein, who merely shrugged. When this was all over, Marvin was going to give him a stern talking to about bug extermination in the lair.

“Ah yes, the spe-dair-a,” Marvin whispered as he advanced closer to Chase. “Even the smallest bite from Arachnis Deathicus will instantly paralyze-”

Chase blew the spider onto Marvin’s cheek, causing him to scream again. Schneep punched him hard enough to knock him over.

“GET IT OFF GET IT OFF!!!! IT BIT MEEEEE!!!” Marvin screamed as Schneep continually smacked him with a newspaper. The spider fell off of Marvin’s cheek and began advancing to the control panel.

“STOP IT BEFORE IT DISAPPEARS!” Marvin howled as he crawled away from the disgusting creature.

After five minutes of Marvin’s dramatic wails and crawling and Schneep swearing like a sailor, Chase finally put an end to the spider’s life by stomping on it when it got close enough.

Marvin crawled over to Chase and grovelled at his bound feet. “Thank you, you are a lifesaver!” He suddenly spied the pin. “Is that still on?”

Chase smiled smugly, “I’ll burn the evidence if you let me go and we’ll never speak of it again.”

Marvin stood up, scowling, “Absolutely not! We haven’t even gotten to the fun part! Let’s pay your boyfriend and godfather a visit, shall we?”

Back at the town square, the mayor had finished up her rather short speech, “It is with great pleasure that I present Brighton Shepherd to his new museum! When you’re ready!”

Shepherd’s laser eyes cut the rope and the great curtains fell, revealing the giant statue of the superhero. A brass band played loudly over the sound of a cheering crowd.

Jackie applauded happily for his mentor, but couldn’t help but feel slightly jealous. In all fairness, the Shepherd had been around longer than he had, and he was still familiarizing himself with the city.

A sudden chill running up his arms woke Jackie from his thoughts. He looked up and gasped. Dark clouds quickly enveloped the museum. People shrieked in terror as a big, black blimp hovered above the great building, rolling down two large projection screens underneath. Once positioned on each side of the magnificent statue, a small circular robot holding a camera turned the screens on, showing the face of the one to blame for the chaos: the Malevolent.

The Brighton Shepherd and the Red Marauder flew up, Shepherd holding up a microphone.

“If it isn’t the Malevolent!”

“Bravo, Brighton Shepherd! Congratulations on your new museum!” Malevolent drawled, clapping slowly.

The crowd began to boo loudly. Malevolent blew a raspberry at the crowd, “So immature!” he scoffed.

“Should have known you’d try and crash the party!” Shepherd said.

“Oh, I intend to do more than crash it! This will be a historic day you, and Brighton City, will not soon forget!”

“We all know how this ends!” Shepherd said. “With you behind bars!”

“Ooh, I tremble in my kitten-skinned cape,” Malevolent hissed, playfully wrapping himself up in his cape. The cape was actually made from cotton, but the city didn’t need to know that.

“What do you want with us, Mal?” Shepherd demanded.

“First off, don’t call me ‘Mal’,” Malevolent snapped. “Secondly, if you and your tomato sidekick don’t leave town in an hour, then this will be the last you ever hear of Chase Brody!” Malevolent punched a button and the left screen presented the kidnapped Chase tied to a chair.

“I knew it!” Jackie muttered behind his mask.

“Don’t panic Chase! We’re on our way!” Shepherd cried out, earning a cheer from the crowd.

“I’m not panicking!” Chase responded, smiling.

Malevolent pretended to gag. “Oh, please. You have to find us first before you save Chase.”

“We’re at the abandoned observatory!” Chase quickly called out.

Malevolent suddenly turned off Chase’s camera, yelping, “WAIT DON’T TO LISTEN TO HIM-”

It was too late. Shepherd and Marauder were already flying above the dark grey smoke. Shepherd quickly spotted the broken down space observatory near the dangerous part of Brighton City beach and pointed it to Marauder. The two began their flight.

Back at the lair, Schneep watched the superheroes from his monitor. “Shepherd and Marauder approaching, sir!”

Marvin turned to Chase, who shot him a smug grin. Marvin only smiled in return.

“Like we said, you’ll be singing a different tune when you see what we have planned!”

The Shepherd would almost be here. Chase closed his eyes and ducked his head for the inevitable ceiling crash.

Shepherd and Marauder flew through the opening of the observatory and landed. Or rather, Shepherd landed gracefully on his feet while Marauder tripped and fell over. Behind them, the heavy doors slid shut.

Shepherd looked around. The place was quiet and eerily empty. No sound of any cat-bots. No evil laughter from the Malevolent.

“Something’s wrong…” Shepherd muttered. He turned to the doors. Were they locked in?! He ran over to check.

Puzzled, Chase looked up. Where were they?

Malevolent reveled in Brody’s confused expression. He fiddled with the control panel, opening up one of the walls.

“You didn’t think we were in the real observatory… did you?!”

Chase could stare in horror as he spotted the real observatory. He couldn’t believe it. He had led the two superheroes right into a trap.

Malevolent laughed triumphantly. “Ready the Death Ray, Doctor!”

Doctor typed in the passcode and pulled the lever down. “Death Ray ready-ing!”

In the real abandoned observatory, Shepherd and Marauder desperately tried to get the doors open.

“I can’t believe Malevolent actually tricked us! How did he seal the doors?!” Marauder moaned.

“Don’t worry Red, we’ll find a way out,” Shepherd said, smiling.

“Over here, boys,” a voice like ice called out. The superheroes turned to see a large projection of Malevolent smiling down on them.

“In case you haven’t noticed, you’ve fallen right into my trap!” Malevolent boasted.

The Shepherd motioned Marauder to find an escape before turning to Malevolent. “You can’t trap justice! It’s an idea! A belief!”

“Well sometimes the most heartfelt belief can be corroded over time!” Malevolent responded.

“Justice is a non-corrosive metal!”

“Then I will just melt it with the heat of revenge!”

“FYI, revenge is best served cold!” Shepherd corrected him. From the side, Marauder shook his head. As much as he respected his mentor and feared Malevolent, their “witty back-and-forth banter” was lame.

“It can easily be reheated in the microwave of evil! Don’t doubt me!” Malevolent snarled.

“Well I think your warranty is about to expire!” Shepherd declared.

“Fuck you, I have an extended warranty!” Malevolent retaliated.

“Language, my dear sir! And warranties are invalid if you don’t use the product for its intended purpose!” Shepherd roared.

“OH! Girls, girls, you’re both pretty!” Chase yelled from his seat. He turned to Malevolent, exasperated, “My whole body is sore. Can I just go home now?!”

Malevolent turned around to throw an empty can of Cola at Chase. It bonked off the side of his head.

“You’ll just have to wait, dear Brody! Your beloved superheroes first must prove if they can escape the inevitable power of the sun! Fire!”

Marauder conjured a shield for himself and Shepherd. When the Shepherd made no move to protect himself, Marauder realized nothing was coming. What happened?

Meanwhile, Marvin approached Schneep and the machine. Schneep learned against the panel, snoring softly. Marvin poked him, “Doctor, wake up!”

Schneep startled, “Oh! Sorry!” He turned to the machine, “The machine is still warming up. I expect we have a few more minutes before it fires.”

Marvin’s face turned as red as Marauder’s suit. “Warming up?! The sun is warming up?!”

Chase started laughing, “The sore arms and legs are definitely worth this riot. Just you wait, the Shepherd and Marauder will be on you in min-”

Malevolent tossed another empty can at Chase. Chase immediately shut up. “That’s better.”

“Don’t worry Chase, we’re on our way!” Marauder yelled from the monitor.

Malevolent stomped over to the camera, “Get here faster, I’m this close to throwing his stupid ass off the balcony!”

This caused Marauder to flip. “Hang in there Chase, I’m coming!” He rocketed up to fly out, only to crash into the ceiling and fall back down unceremoniously.

“Marauder, we’ve talked about this! You need to think before you do anything!” Shepherd lightly scolded. “Now, what do we have that can create a hole in the wall?”

“This whole day is a mess…” Doctor muttered from his spot at the panel.

“I’m sorry, whose side are you on?!” Malevolent demanded.

“The losing side!” Chase interjected.

“Everybody shut up,” Malevolent ordered. He sighed, rubbing his temples. “You know what? I need to take a nap. Call me when the ray is ready!”

“The ray is ready!” Doctor announced. In seconds a bright beam of yellow flew down, destroying the observatory in seconds. Fire and burning metal fell out of the demolished observatory, some of it flying directly towards the lair.

Malevolent quickly waved his hands in a circular motion, muttering. A shimmering purple bubble wrapped around Doctor and Chase. As debris rained down, Malevolent deflected them with bursts of purple fireworks. Chase watched in amazement, gaping.

“I keep forgetting he can do magic...” Chase muttered. “He uses so much technology instead.”

Doctor laughed, “Well, he’s not called the Magician for nothing.”

When the commotion calmed down and the debris stopped coming, Marvin twirled around, blowing a stray hair out his eye. The bright glow of the burning observatory behind the magician outlined his epic form. “Did your camera get that, Brody?”

Two more pieces of falling debris gracelessly smashed into Marvin. Chase happily squealed upon seeing the dusty forms of the Brighton Shepherd and the Red Marauder.

“I… should have seen that coming,” Marvin squeaked. “How did you escape so fast?”

“Laser eyes are a wonderful thing!” Marauder answered, giving Marvin a playful wink as he stood up. Marvin stuck his tongue out.

“The gig is up, Mal. We’re taking you back to jail, where you belong!” Shepherd declared. Marvin sighed and slammed his head down on the floor. Naturally, he lost. Again.

Schneep’s distressed cries snapped Marvin back to attention. He turned to his head to see Marauder on top of a struggling Schneep. Schneep’s whimpers and half-sobs were lost on Marauder, who continued tying his wrists behind him.

“Might as well send the Malevolent’s accomplice to jail as well! That way he won’t escape again!” the sidekick reasoned.

Something in Marvin snapped. “NO!” he screamed, startling the Shepherd. With his nemesis off his back, Marvin set his eyes on Brody and magically put the reporter in a choke hold.

Chase gasped raggedly as the air left his lungs.

Marvin whirled around to face Marauder, growling, “Let the doctor go!”

“Get your hands off Chase!” Marauder yelped, staring helplessly at his struggling brother.

“First, free the doctor!” Marvin shouted. He tightened his grip on Chase, lifting him out of the chair.

“Put Chase down!” Marauder roared, eyes glowing red.

Chase wheezed pathetically, black spots darting in his vision. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe. He let out a strangled sob, tears falling. In all his time with Malevolent… he had never felt so scared.

Jackie’s eyes lost their glow and he loosened his grip on the Doctor. Underneath him, the Doctor moaned in pain.

“Let him go, Red.” Jackie turned to Shepherd in shock. The usually optimistic and brightly-smiling superhero had a grim expression on his face. Jackie spluttered.

“B- but- The Doctor will just free the Malevolent again! We could stop them both once and for all-”

“You heard me. Let him go,” Shepherd ordered. Reluctantly, Jackie stood up and backed away from the Doctor. The shaking man took no time running to the stairs and quickly disappearing.

Marvin waited until Schneep’s footsteps faded away before releasing Chase, gently laying him down. Chase gulped in tearful breaths, his body trembling. Marauder rushed over to free Chase while Shepherd tied the magician’s hands behind him.

The minute his hands were free, Chase threw his arms around Jackie. Jackie gently hugged him.

“Are you okay?” Jackie whispered. Chase nodded, still gasping.

“I’ll take Malevolent to jail,” the Shepherd said. “You get Chase to a hospital!” He took off, Malevolent dangling in his arms. The magician waved goodbye as he and the Shepherd disappeared into the city.

Jackie picked up Chase bridal style and started flying as well.

He kept the flight light and steady to keep Chase from getting sick. Chase buried his head in Jackie’s shoulder for most of the trip, eyes squeezed shut. He hated heights.

As they arrived at the hospital, a medical team waited outside to take Chase in. After the first few kidnappings, a special team offered to dedicate themselves to healing Chase in case he needed it.

“Ja-Jackie?” Chase stuttered. Jackie looked down at his almost unconscious friend.

“Ma-Make sure th-this doesn’t reach An-Anthony, oh-ok?” Chase begged between gasps.

Jackie nodded, confused. “Alright… I won’t tell him.”

The cell stunk. No one here ever bothered to put an air freshener in his jail cell, despite Marvin’s numerous polite requests to have it put in. According to the security guards, the Malevolent “could use it as a weapon” or a “gas bomb”. Please.

Marvin sighed as best as he could. As if to enact revenge for strangling Chase, the security staff had clamped an even smaller chain around his neck, making it hard to breathe. Or move. Or do anything. The rest of his body wasn’t much better, with a larger chain wrapped around his waist and movement sensory chains bruising his wrists. If he tried using any magic, the chains on his wrist would shock him. After today, electrocution was the last thing Marvin needed.

Marvin looked up to check the premises. After checking to make sure the guards were gone, Marvin snapped his fingers, careful not to move his wrists too much. Immediately, the chains loosened, allowing Marvin to take a shuddering gasp. He knew the minute he heard the guards coming to check on him, he had to tighten them again, so he took advantage of the situation.

At least the Doctor was free. He wasn’t being made to sit in a stinky, small cell, wrapped in large chains that threatened to strangle him at any moment. He was free to relax after a hard day, planning for the next breakout. For now, Schneep could rest.

Marvin leaned back against his chair, closing his eyes. Schneeplestein would help him escape again. For now, the magician himself will think of another plan to get back at the Brighton Shepherd.

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

@graysun, @florenceisfalling, @miishae, @lonelyseiren, @goldenoceanaart, @oasisofgalaxies, @fleecal, @kofi-kiing, @myspatialspace, @jo-ann-ahh-2, @huffletrax, @indic0lite, @dumbasticart, @lunaarmada, @meteorshowersfillthesky, @uhhbeans, @the-pastel-kitsune, @ptide @climbing-starrs, @the-spawn-of-loki, @jadehowlettthewolf, @obsidiancreates, @rammypaige, @cest-mellow, @randowaffle, @green-protects, @dezi-popp, @badlypostedeverything, @crystalninjaphoenix, @milokno, @pixelpixie-pix, @why-killed-markiplier

#marvin the magnificent #jacksepticeye #writersofjack #writers of jack #jackieboy man #jse egos #writing #immabethehero #marvin megamind au #apparently i can write

39 notes · View notes

tommydarlings · 3 years

Text

She's a maniac | t.h

A/N: Finally it's here!!! Like I already said, when you can't read stuff like that, then please don't even try it!!! It could be really 'dangerous' for your mental health! Btw, I do not 'support' any of these serialkiller's! I just really love the topic! I hope you like this one as much as I do, anyway, enjoy! :) ily,liz <3

pairing: serialkiller!reader x Tom holland

warnings: swearing, talking about serialkiller stuff?, talking about murdering, talking about other serialkiller's, nearly sex? brief mention of necrophilia

w/c: 3.9k

Requests: CLOSED

Summary: Tom and his family are watching a live footage of the most dangerous women on earth, it's disgusting what you've did, but does he fall in love with you anyway? Well, yeah.

masterlist || taglist || requests ( in my masterlist)

"Tom, darling can I turn the TV on?" Nikki asked as she sat on Tom's couch. "Yeah, of course mom" he answered before Nikki turned his TV on. Dominic and the twins came out of the kitchen with a big bowl full of popcorn and sat down next to Nikki. "Are you guys coming?" Dominic asked from the living room while he looked at the kitchen. "Yes, we're coming dad!" paddy answers right before he and Tom came into the living room and sat down. "Any movie recommendations?" Sam asked his family. They all shook their head before Harry said,

"Isn't there any good stuff on the TV" the redhead said quietly. Nikki zapped through the channel until she stopped at one. "What's that?" Tom asked as he looked at the screen that just showed a room with two chairs and one table in it. It kinda looked like a live footage. "Um… what is it called?" paddy asked after a while. They all shrugged while Tom took the remote and spoke up,

"It's just called 'the most dangerous woman on earth - y/n y/ln" they all looked at each other with confusion written on everyone's faces. "Maybe the title does have nothing to do with the show? serie?, I don't know" Dominic said after a while. Suddenly, a police officer came into the room and spoke up,

"Test, test, is the camera on?" he said while he looked at the camera in the corner of the room. So it is live. They all though. After a few seconds, the officer nodded and sat down onto one of the chairs. Suddenly someone opened the door and two police officers walked in with a woman in an inmate suit and handcuffs around her wrists. The police officers sat her down in the other chair and left the room.

"Do you know her?" paddy asked quietly. They all shook their heads and went ahead with staring at the TV without any clue about who this woman was. Who you were. They all watched you with curious eyes.

"So dear miss y/l/n, could you please explain to me what you have done?" you let a tiny but at the same time wicked laugh before you answered his question,

"Do you want me to answer that question in detail?" you said. The officer shook his head and told you to go ahead telling him just the most important things about what you have done. "Well, in total I killed six men" you told him with a shrug. "What else have you done miss y/l/n" you smile before you said,

"I followed them, I seduced them, I killed them, not more"

"Not more? Well these pictures tell me otherwise" the police officer said before he opened a file and took six pictures out of it. He put them infront of you and you looked at them for a few seconds before the police officer spoke up again.

"Would give me the honor and explain every single picture to me please?" the men asked teasingly. You shrugged before you accepted it and started to explain.

"Men number one, Andy Richardson, he was an alcoholic, a stupid little motherfucker, I seduced him and then I hit him a few times with a crowbar on his head before I buried him in the woods" you smiled. "Men number two, Nicholas brown, he was an abusive dad and husband, one of the worst, I slid his throat and let him drown in his blood, just like he deserves it, then I took his body and laid it in his bathtub so it looked like suicide" and so on and on and on, with every single men got the police officers mind just more and more disturbed while he imagined all these things the man had to go trough.

"Did you had any sexuall activities with the corpses afterwards?" the police officer asked you. You laughed before you leaned forward and answered quietly,

"I'm honest officer, no, I didn't had any, not with a single man but I had my own little playroom, not the same like Christian Grey, but in my playroom, the men screamed, cried and begged too" and then you leaned even more forward and whispered,

"Just like in Christian Grey's, and it was so much fun" you whispered with the biggest smirk ever.

"This girl is sick" Nikki said while she shook her head desperately. "She has to go to a therapist quickly" Harry said after a few seconds of silence. They all agreed except for one person. Tom. He was so whipped. He thought that y/n was gorgeous and just breathtaking. But at the same time he felt extremely bad for thinking of her in that kind of way. She is a fucking serialkiller, she killed six men with her own hands. That is so disturbing and sick.

Suddenly you stood up and walked around in the small room. "What are you doing miss y/l/n?" the officer asked. You shrugged before you answered. "I'm just walking around, is that a crime?"

"No, but what you did to these men is a crime"

"But probably a good one"

"What exactly do you mean with that miss?"

"This case is probably the best you ever had, right? You don't have to answer officer, I know that my case is the best that you ever had and that I'm basically your biggest trophy on the shelf. I'm your career break" you smiled widely. "How-how do you know that?" the officer asked while the fear started to rise in him. You laughed quietly, almost like the devil in person.

"I studied this topic a lot, you know, serialkiller, crimes, murder, I studied all of this for years, so believe me when I tell you that I know much more about every single case and every single crime that was ever committed in the history of serialkiller's than you ever could" you said loudly and proud. He shook his head slowly before you laughed nervously and looked at you,

"I don't think so miss-" but you interrupted him immediately,

"You know officer, I maybe was really bad at school, like reallyyyyy bad, but when you believe that you know more about that topic that I basically live for, then think again mister, do not underestimate the things that I could do and especially the things that I know about the topic of serialkiller's, because I'm pretty sure that we both know by now that I have much more knowledge in that topic than you could even dream of" you told him smugly. The officer was shooked. He was frozen, he couldn't even look at you right now. He was fucking scared-

"I could hang there one day, haha" you said while you laughed and painted at the wall where pictures from other seriakiller were hanging. He looked at you with confusion on his face before he answered,

"But first of all we have to take a picture of your face-"

"No, no, no, not a picture of me, my head, my head could hang there one day you know? Haha, that would look so funny, my pale face hanging on the wall while blood is dripping down my throat and my eyes wide open while I stare at you. Ever. Single. Day" you said while you still stared at the wall with an amused smile on your face.

"O-okay, i-I have a few questions now" he said quietly. "Go on sir"

"favorite Serialkiller?"

"Ted bundy" you answered immediately.

"Why?" he asked while he looked at you. "He was a fucking genius, he was like the second jack the ripper the only problem was that he got caught, he was basically my inspiration and my role model. I loved him" the officer just sighed and went on,

"A Serialkiller you don't like?"

"Charles menson, he was a pussy, he just hired people to do the shitty job for him"

"When and how did Ted bundy got executed?"

"On January the 24th 1989 by the electric chair, easy" you laughed.

"What kind of murderer was Jeffrey Dahmer?"

"A cannibal" you answered smugly.

"Who was John Wayne gacy?"

"He was pogo the killer clown"

"okay, what is necrophilia?"

"Having sexuell intercours with a corpse"

"Who is Richard ramirez?"

"The night Stalker"

"What is the quickest way to kill somebody?"

"Either you shot him directly in the head, between his eyes or you slid his throat with a beautiful. sharp. knife" you whispered.

"Why did you dismember your victims?"

"Because it's fun, it's calming and even though it's a mess, in my way it's a beautiful and hot mess"

"So you think that killing and dismember man is a beautiful and hot mess"

"Torturing" you answered quickly.

"What?" the officer asked.

"Torturing. You forget that. You said 'killing and dismember' but I tortured them too, and that was even more fun" you laughed quietly. The police officer nodded while he though about the awful things you have done with your own hands.

"You are disgusted" you said quickly while you looked him deep in the eyes. "What?"

"You are disgusted from the things that I have done aren't you?" you asked with a grin. "How-how do you-"

"Like I said, I know everything, you can't beat me in that topic, bundy was a fucking genius, ramirez was not that bad either, Dahmer was maybe even better than him but I'm, I'm the fucking goddess" you answered with the biggest smirk the police officer ever saw. He was really terrified to death now. He shouldn't be, but he was. "Do you have a family? Do you have kids?" you added.

"Yes, yes I do have two kids" you hummed quietly before you spoke up,

"We serialkiller's are your husbands, we're your son's, and your children are gonna be dead by tomorrow" you whispered without any emotion in your face. And that was the moment were everyone realized that you are cold. "I know that Ted bundy said that he is the most cold hearted son of a bitch you've ever met, but believe me when I tell you that I'm more cold hearted than he could ever be" you whispered.

"I know that there's an age difference, but budy and you would have been the prefect couple" he answered. You laughed loudly. "But when wouldn't have lasted long" he raised his eyebrow. "Why?"

You slowly leaned forward before you answered,

"Because I would have chopped his dick off and took his eyes out and then I would slowly and maybe even gently cut his throat until he drowns in his own blood" you said quietly. Everyone was shooked and terrified to death. The police officer and everyone infront of the TV right now.

"What is your family thinking about you?" this question surprised you. You didn't expected it all.

"They haven't contacted me yet" you said while you looked at the wall behind him.

He just nodded and wrote something in your file.

"This girl is a fucking maniac" Sam said while he stared at the TV with wide eyes.

"I think I'm gonna throw up" Paddy said quietly.

"Yeah, sick bitch" Harry agreed with his brother. "I'm not sure if I'm able to sleep alone tonight" paddy said with pure seriousness in his voice. Nikki looked at him and hugged him tightly before she spoke up,

"Don't worry my love, she's never going to come near us, I promise" she told her son while Dominic nodded his head, agreeing with his wife.

"Tom, are you okay?" Harry asked his big brother. Tom snapped out of his daydreaming zone and answered quickly,

"Yeah, yeah of course" he said. "It's disturbing, I know, unbelievable that women like her are even allowed to sit in this room, she didn't even deserved that" Sam told his family, but Tom couldn't even focus. He was so stunned by your beauty, what is bullshit because he definitely shouldn't, is he doing it anyway? Is he daydreaming right now how your lips would feel on his lips? How your hands would feel on his biceps or how your hands would feel when he would hold you tight-

"Tom?!" Dominic yelled. "What?!" he yelled back. He quickly apologized before his father said,

"We're going now, okay?" Tom nodded quickly and gave them all a quick goodbye before he went to bed. Still thinking about her. "Fuuuuck" he whispered to himself while he laid in bed and rubbed his hands over his face. "Fuck it" he said before he grabbed his phone and searched her up on Google. "Holy shit" he whispered as he saw what else she had done to these men."They didn't even discuss half of what she had done in the live footage" he said quietly to himself while he stared at his phone screen, reading all the awful things that you had done to these men. He was terrified but at the same time was he… fine with it? He couldn't give a fuck anymore, he just wanted to go to sleep now, when that's even possible now. He's gonna start filming spiderman 3 soon so he has to wake up early tomorrow. Let's wish him luck.

---

"Tom!, Hey holland!" Jack yelled from his trailer on set. They were currently back on set, filming Spiderman 3. Tom walked to Jack's trailer and said,

"Yeah, what's up Jack?"

"I actually want you meet someone, one of my closest friends, actually she's my best friend" Tom looked at him curiously. "I thought that I was your best friend" he said sarcastically. Jack just laughed before he answered,

"You are Tommy, but she is my best friend too" Jack said. "And who is she? Do I already know her?" he asked him. Jack scratched the back of his neck nervously. "Well, yes, you probably know her but you never met he personally"

"Why are you so nervous all of a sudden?" Tom asked Jack with a little laugh. Jack shrugged and answered quickly,

"I'm not nervous, it's just that I'm a little bit scared" he admitted quietly. Tom looked at him with confusion all over his face. "Why?"

"Well, she's… special?" jack answered nervously. Tom just nodded with his head before he answered,

"She can't be that bad jack, c'mon"

"Okay, but you have to promise me to not freak out and run away"

"O-okay?" Tom answered but it sounded more like an unsure question. "How about we meet up all together? Like zendaya, Jacob, you and me? At her house?"

"Yeah, that's fine with me" Tom answered before he got called on set again to gon on with filming. After a few hours of filming, Tom went to Jack, Jacob and zendaya. "So is that okay for you guys?" Jack asked the group. "So, you pick us up at about 2 p.m?" zendaya asked Jack. He nodded quickly before Tom spoke up,

"As long as she's no Serialkiller or something like that, then it's fine with me" he laughed loudly while Zendaya and Jacob joined him. Jack remained silent.

Oh, if they would only know…

---

"When are we here?" Jacob asked from the backseat. Tom sat in the passenger seat while Jacob and zendaya sat in the backseat. "Soon, in about 10 minutes we should be here" Jack answered. They all groaned but then nodded with their heads.

"What is her name?" zendaya suddenly asked. Jack opened his mouth but he couldn't get a single word out. "Are you okay mate?" Tom asked his best friend. Jack nodded quickly before he answered zendaya's question. "It's uh, uhm… y/n?" he told her but it sounded more like a question. "Are you nervous? It's just a name jack you can chill dude" Jacob told him with a tiny laugh. "Yeah, you're right" Jack said. "Can you just please promise me that you won't run away? Or cry? Or yell at me or at her? Please, I beg you" Jack added. "Again Jack, why should we be scared?" Tom asked him. "I just-I don't know okay? You will see" Jack said quietly. They all looked at each other curiously before they all fixated their eyes on the road again.

---

"Finally" Tom said while he stepped out of the car quickly. "Wow, the house is really pretty" Zendaya said. Jacob nodded with his head slowly before jack spoke up,

"You ready?" he asked the group. "Yes Jack c'mon" Jacob answered quickly with a laugh. Jack scratched the back of his neck again. Something that he's doing when he's nervous. Jack knocked at the door three times before a women opnend it.

It was you. Y/n y/l/n. The most dangerous women on earth and one of the biggest serialkiller in history.

You smiled at Jack before you said,

"Jacki my darling, finally you're here, who are they?" you asked while you hugged Jack and looked at the three of them. They all remained silent and just stared at you like you were some kind of alien.

So obviously everyone knows who you are.

They all obviously knew who you were because of the little footage. That by the way kinda went viral. Since that day, everyone knows and fears you. Especially men. So that's the reason why you are obviously single, who would have thought?

"Come in, come in, please" you said happily. They all stared at you and then quickly at jack for a moment before they entered your house. "Do you guys want something to drink?" you asked them all while they sat down on your couch. They shook their head slowly before Jacob whispered into Tom's ear,

"I-isn't that t-the-"

"Yes it is Jacob and now you better shut up before she may kills us" Tom whispered back at his friend while he stared at your figure standing in the kitchen. "Don't you want to introduce your friends to me jack?" you asked him. He nodded quickly. "That's zendaya, she play's mj in spiderman, that's Jacob, he play's ned, the best friend of Peter Parker, and that is Tom, Peter Parker himself"

"Nice to meet you all" you told them while you shook their hands. But as you shook Tom's hands, you felt something, something in your stomach.

Butterflies.

And he felt it too.

---

Currently you were in the shower, just enjoying how the warm water ghosts over skin. Suddenly the shower curtain opens and a naked Tom steps in. "Well hello handsome" you told your boyfriend. "Hello darling" he told you as he stood behind you and wrapped his hands around your waist. He buried his face in the back of your neck and whispered,

"I love you darling"

"I love you too Tommy" you told him while you turned around and gave him a gentle kiss on his lips. "I'm so nervous" you admitted after a few seconds of just staring into each other's eyes. "You don't have to be my love, my family is gonna accept and love you, maybe it's gonna take some time but they will appreciate you I promise"

"But you told me that you watched my footage Thomas, they heard what I said, they saw the way I acted! They are either going to act like they love me or they are going to be scared of me the entire time!" you told your boyfriend while you laid your head on his wet chest."But I know that you've changed baby, I know it. I know that your a better person now and that you will never do something like that ever again okay?" he said. You picked your head up and looked him deep in the eyes before he grabbed your legs and picked you up and leaned you against the shower wall." I love you so much, thank you" you told him while you put both of your hands on his cheeks. "I love you even more babygirl" he said before you slowly started to make out.

---

Tom knocked on his family's door quickly before his mom opened. "Hey son, how are you my dear!" she asked him while they hugged. "I'm good thanks mom" everyone hugged Tom as he came through the door before Dominic spoke up,

"So, where is the lucky girl you want us to meet?" he asked with a tiny grin. "Yeah mate, where's she?" Harry added. "She is a little bit shy okay? So please be 'gentle' with her okay?" he told his family. They all nodded before they heard a voice,

"Tom, can I come?" you asked from the front door. "Did we already met her?" Sam asked. "Yeah, I don't know either, her voice sounds so familiar" Harry added. Tom just laughed nervously before he said,

"Just please be gentle and kind okay?" they all nodded curiously before Tom told you to come in and there you stood. Infront of your boyfriend's family. They exactly knew who you were and what you did. They were frozen, they were still but at the same time were they terrified.

"Hey, my n-name I-is y/n, y/n y/l/n" you slowly said while Tom put his arm around your waist.

"O-oh m-my God" Nikki whispered with fear in her voice.

"Tom, what, do y-you even k-know who s-she-?" Harry stuttered.

"Yes, yes I know who she is, she is y/n y/l/n, my lovely girlfriend" he answered proudly with a smile.

"Thomas are you crazy-"

Suddenly, paddy went to you and extended his hand in your way,

"Hello y/n, you're really pretty, my name is paddy" he told you. He knew who you were, but he saw you and knew that you won't be trouble. He believed in you.

"Hello paddy, the pleasure is all mine" you told him while you shook his hand.

"Calm down guys, please, she changed okay?" Tom told his family.

"You don't know that Thomas" Nikki stated quietly while she looked you in the eyes. You honestly felt kinda guilty. "I love him" you suddenly blurted out of nowhere. "What?" Dominic asked you. "I love your son and I'm gonna prove it to you that I'm a good person, I know what I did in the past but like Tom already said, I've changed and I love him so please give me a chance" you asked them. They all looked at you before harry spoke up,

"You know what, yes, I believe in you too just like paddy so" he stepped forward and hugged you quickly before he said,

"Welcome to the family"

You couldn't be happier.

---

"Darling where are you?" Tom yelled from the bedroom. You were just about to go to sleep but you had other plans. "Coming!" Suddenly you came through the bedroom door with a beautiful but at the same time extremely sexy lingerie in red. Tom's favorite color on you.

"Oh lord have mercy with me" Tom mumble quietly to himself while he looked at you but you heard it loud and clear. You giggled quietly before you made your way to Tom and sat down onto his lap. He put both of his on your ass and looked at your breasts. "My eyes are up here Holland" you said. "Sorry, you just look so… tasty" he said before he leaned in and kissed you passionately. After a few kisses, you leaned in to whisper in his ear,

"Fuck me daddy"

He laughed wickedly before he whispered into your ear,

"Oh kitten, I'm going to fucking destroy you, now your going to be the one that is crying begging and screaming"

-`ღ´- ᶫᵒᵛᵉᵧₒᵤ -`ღ´-

Taglist:

@goodgirlgonetom @majo240820 @misshale21 @itstaskeen @pure-ghost @justafangirlduh @elizabeth-brown @roseke @onyourgoddamnleft @lovelyxtom @hallecarey1 @zspideyy @elizabeth228

#tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tomholland x reader #tom holland x reader #fanfiction #tom holland fluff #fanfic #serial killer #true crime #i kinda like this

141 notes · View notes

tell-tale-taeil · 3 years

Photo

A customer (Chapter 1 out of 2)

Protagonists: Jeno Lee, original character, NCT Dream members mentioned Genre: mystery, noir, self-knowledge “Jeno wanders to a mysterious bookstore where he encounters even more mysterious individual, but somewhere deep down Jeno knows that this story is actually only about him.” TW: none

See other members’ stories here:

TBA

Author’s note: When I saw this particular moodboard, an idea sparked inside my mind. With a constant support from my friends, I finally finished the first half of the story that I am presenting to you now. Thank you for your love and kindness, this is for you, I hope you’ll like it :) Special thanks to Woo and Volpe for proofreading <3

Any feedback, reactions, comments, recommendations or ideas for other members’ stories are welcomed, I wouldn’t mind turning this into a series.

Tagging: @neocluefor , @your-local--trashcan Let me know if you want to be added!

A dark, dim evening, the sun had just set, bits of the dusky orange sky shone through the maze of power lines, chimneys, rooftops and posts. As Jeno was walking down an empty tucked away backstreet, he felt like he set foot on a hidden crossroad between two worlds. The feeling of the unknown and the unexplored sent shivers down his spine and he quickened his pace, as he did not wish to get held up at here any longer than necessary. He told his manager he just wanted to grab something warm to eat and stretch his legs a little, but the truth was… He wanted to be alone.

Not so long ago Jeno realised he has a very rare gift – a gift of invisibility. Wherever he’d go, no matter how many people surrounded him, he felt unseen and unnoticed. Jeno, we need you to voice over this ad. Jeno, we need you to shoot a dance video. Jeno, we need you to smile for the photos. No, no, do the thing with your eyes, yes. Oh, you’re still here? We don’t need anything now. Sorry, were you saying something? Listen I gotta go, talk to you later maybe? Everyone knows Jeno the idol, but how many people have heard of Jeno the person? How many people remember Jeno the friend from school, Jeno the boy next door? What’s the point of rushing back into dorms, if he’s going to feel all the same? At least at here I can hear my own thoughts for a change. Without having to fight to get a word in. Noone’s interested in what you have to say anyway, so be a man, Jeno, and go sulk somewhere where people don’t have to look at your sorry face. Hmm, jjamppong sounds nice.

He walked where his feet led him, hands in the pockets of his coat, eyes staring blankly on the passing pavement tiles, red tiles, black tiles, grey tiles, shapes and figures, forms and contours. His mind unfocused, his thoughts scattered. Stop. Wait. Like in a dream, he saw himself standing in front of a narrow door, black paint flaking away, a few variously shaped and randomly placed yellow window panes, a big brass handle waiting to be pulled. He noticed a little oval plaque in his field of vision and the next thing he knew, he was standing in the middle of a bookshop. A minute passed, maybe ten, maybe an hour. Jeno glanced around, scratching his head. „Uh… good evening!“ He bowed his head a little, even though he didn’t see anyone at the counter. Nevertheless, he felt like he’s being watched, scrutinized, evaluated. Something was staring at him and Jeno suddenly wished that he was invisible again. He turned his head to where he felt the uncomfortable feeling coming from and there it was - behind the desk, on the left side of the wall, squished between large overflowing bookcases, right next to a tall wooden coat-stand shaped like an old tree - a red door with a big round opened eye painted on it. The door was opened, just a few centimetres, and a faint piano music was coming from inside. Come in, if you dare.

Jeno cleared his throat. Might as well look around properly, before they come back out. It’s no use of shouting or trying to make myself heard while that song is still playing. Listening to the melancholic but somewhat promising tune, Jeno inspected the surroundings. The shop looked messy and untidy. Chaos was the king of this castle, carelessness the lady of this household and together they ruled over their tiny land made of heaps of books, magazines and papers haphazardly placed on each other, shelves full of postcards and pictures, walls covered with ornaments and embellishments. Without a single tag or label in sight, Jeno wondered how could anyone find anything in here. He imagined the miscellaneous objects flowing into the shop and never leaving again. His gaze landed on a flashy pink paper packet filled with chewing gums in a no less showy wrapper on one of the shelves. Cool, a freebie! He reached for the gum, unpacked it and threw it into his mouth only to immediately pull a disgusted face as he chewed into the candy. It was like biting into a tasteless rubber. He spit it back out into the crumpled wrapper, put it next to the rest of the unused gums and set out to look for a trash can. He tripped on the thick dusty carpet and nearly stepped on something that looked rather expensive. This must be a bookshop with super rare prints and antiquities of some kind, this isn’t a place for me, I don’t fit in here, I should leave. And so, he stayed, bound in the place by a force of increasing curiosity he did not quite understand.

The piano stopped playing. Perfect, now’s my chance. „Hello? You, uh, have a customer! Heh…“ he stuttered awkwardly. Jeno wasn’t the type of a person who would enjoy excessive attention. If he ever tried to voice his opinion and was met with disregard or unconcern, he would simply think it was because his opinion on that matter was stupid and pointless. That’s why he was fairly used to this, not being heard. The only difference was that usually the rest of the members would fill the room with their chatter, so his lack of involvement in the group activities would normally go unnoticed. Unlike here, where the only sound was a deathly silence and Jeno’s thoughts humming in his head. He already spoke twice, what more does he need to do to be heard? Raise his voice? I just want to buy a book and get out of here. He took a deep breath and opened his mouth to speak and right at that moment, the piano started playing again.

„Wha-, are you kidding me?“ he mumbled quietly under his breath. He looked around, confused, as if he was looking for understanding and sympathy from the other angry customers waiting for their turn to be served. He was the only one here and yet they’re making him wait. What is this, a private concert? Did they possibly saw him coming? Did they think that they’ll impress him with playing lowkey creepy piano melodies? This better not be a prank. He really wasn’t in the mood for fans and he didn’t think he could fake a smile at this hour. But he didn’t notice any hidden cameras, or any security cameras at all for that matter. He paced around the room nervously, scratching his neck. That’s it, I’m leaving. I don’t need that book anyway. I don’t need anything. If they don’t want me here, that’s okay, I’ll do just fine on my own.

He made a few strides towards the front door and then turned around again. „Hellooo! I came here to ask about books! Books that you happen to be selling!“ he raised his voice to the most pleading yet still polite level. The piano stopped again and Jeno gazed hopefully at the red door. He started walking back to the counter, slowly, carefully, as if he didn’t want to scare off the possibility of finally being served. He leaned on the desk, ready to place his order, tapping his fingers impatiently on the dark wooden surface. And just like that, as if it wanted to laugh directly into Jeno’s face, the piano started playing yet another tune, as impatient as Jeno himself. He pursed his lips and bent his head down. What the heck is this place, huh? A bookstore or a concert venue? At least serve some coffee and cake next time! He could just leave, never come back and forget about this place. But he really needed that book, he’s been looking for it so long, and he knew, he just knew, that this is the right place to look for it.

„Alright!“ Jeno raised his head and pointed his index finger to the door, from which the music was coming. „I’m going in there! And I’m going to knock real loud, so you better not be scared or surprised or angry!“ I doubt they can hear me, he thought, as the music only grew louder and louder. Okay, here we go… He approached the door behind the counter, cautiously, and with his finger still pointing forwards he tapped on the red wood with his nail a few times, gingerly, like he was expecting the door to bite his hand, after a while he shook his head and finally made a few feeble knocks. He put his head inside with a quiet: „Excuse me…“ and peeped into the backroom. As soon as his foot touched the threshold, the music stopped playing and Jeno opened the door wide. The room was small and empty, safe for the piano by the wall. No other door, windows, cabinets, electrical appliances, boxes, merchandise, not even trash. Just four bare walls and the damn piano that he swore was playing just a mere second ago.

Jeno gulped, his hand on the doorknob, his feet midstep, his whole body ready to run in the even that something would go wrong. Now now, be brave. „Hello?“ his voice was dry, hoarse and small. Goosebumps covered his nape. „Oh! A customer!“ said a voice behind him. „JESUS CHRIST!“ Jeno nearly fell back onto the ground, as he made several hurried steps backwards, tripping over boxes, books and papers, knocking over the tree coat-stand which embraced him in its patulous grip, making him feel trapped. „Can I help you?“ said the voice and as Jeno’s ragged breath started to decelerate again and as the stars stopped dancing in front of his eyes, only now he saw a pale face hovering in the shadows of the dimly lit place. The initial shock was over and, gradually, the face grew hair, and connected with a torso, arms and legs. „I…“ Jeno stuttered as he finally untangled himself from the clasp of the coat-stand and stood straight, „came here to buy a book.“ He clutched his hand near his heart and blinked hard for a few times. Get a grip, man, get a grip. „Then you’re in the right place! After all, this is a bookstore and we store all kinds of books,“ smiled the face that no longer resembled a ghost, but a person. „I’ve been… waiting here for 15 minutes… at least.“ He tried to sound angry, but the truth was he wasn’t really sure of how much time he actually spent here. Oh my god. A thought just crossed his mind. What if they’re already closed and I didn’t notice and just practically barged in here demanding to be served?!?! He wiped his forehead and opened his mouth to apologize for his intrusion, but before he could say anything, the figure in front of him spoke again. „Gosh, but I didn’t hear or see you at all!“ said the person, covering their red coloured lips with their hand. Typical. „I… tried to…“ Jeno sighed. If they didn’t hear me, I should have made more effort I guess. „I apologize, I’m sorry for the inconvenience I caused you.“ He bowed his head slightly. The person, dressed in a silky black dress that rustled with every step, fixed their dark eyes on Jeno’s apologetic face and shook their head disappointedly. They passed Jeno, who hurriedly backed out of their way, bumping into the red door, oh, I could have sworn the eye was open. huh, weird, and started to rummage through the bookshelves and bookcases, opening drawers and cabinets, dancing around all the clutter with their feet bare, without knocking over a single thing.

„So?“ asked the bookstore owner, combing through a particularly overflowing drawer. „Sorry?“ „Which book are you looking for?“ Jeno resisted the urge to facepalm himself and laughed nervously instead. „Ah, the book…“ Wait, the book? What book? „Umm… the book,“ he frowned. Why is he here again? He finished his schedule, yes, and then got out of the car sooner than the rest, because…? Because I wanted to buy a book? Uhh… I guess? „Um, yeah, I was hoping to get a book about the history of-“ „Hey!“ the character was now standing in the middle of the room, their arms crossed in an irritated manner, the long red painted nails tapping angrily. „Did you eat my chewing gum?“ You IDIOT! And you even left the wrapper and the actual gum right there on the shelf, ugh! „I’m really sorry,“ Jeno started apologizing at the double, „it was just sitting there, I thought-“ „How did it taste?“ asked the owner. „Um…“ Jeno blinked a few times and frowned. „Weird,“ he answered, looking down at his feet, like he was feeling guilty and disappointed at the same time. „I remember really liking this brand and it surprised me that is tasted so… stale,“ he answered truthfully. The woman sighed. „No wonder. It’s a special edition, a collectible. It’s been sitting here for five years. And now it’s ruined.“ She took the whole package in her hands and shook her head, discontented. Who the hell stores a pack of freaking chewing gums? „I guess I should have treated it better, maybe all the exposure made it tasteless and bland.“ She clicked her tongue. „What a shame. But at least the wrapping is still colourful and pretty to look at.“ „Uh… yeah. Sorry about that.“ She put the gums back in place and resumed with the thorough scouring of the area. „What book did you say you wanted?“ Oh, yeah, the book. The damn book again. „Ah, yeah, um… I was interested in the techniques of-“ „How about this one?“ The woman, currently kneeling down by one of the huge bookcases, proposed. Jeno stared at her, eyes wide. She reached under the furniture, scrabbled and felt around a bit, until she triumphantly retrieved a blue hardback tome. Just what is going on in here?

Jeno watched the woman get up again, dust down her knees with a sigh, and then walk back behind the counter. She put the book on the desk and Jeno finally got a good look. The jacket was dusty, creased and torn in a few places. There were no pictures or details, it was just… blue. „Sound…” he read out loud. „Sound?“ Jeno raised an eyebrow. „That’s the title, yes.“ „It looks like a… heavy reading.“ He took the book in his hands to weigh it, it must be at least 500 pages long. „And pretty expensive.“ „It’s a poetry book, if you’re worried about the pages. And you don’t have to pay me for it.“ „Ah, I-… Wait, what? You don’t want me to pay you for it?“ „No, because I am not selling it to you. I’ll only let you borrow it. I‘ve always wanted to read it, because I am curious about the story, but… Do you sometimes get the feeling, be it a book, a movie, a photograph, or even a new pair of shoes, that it’s calling out to you? And when you finally get it, it’s like it’s your missing puzzle piece that you didn’t even know you need and it makes you complete?“ „I… guess, yeah.“ But not really, no. I can’t remember the last time I had this feeling. „Well, turns out, this book doesn’t complete me.“ She packed it in a plain paper bag and sealed it with a decorative tape. „But it might complete you,“ the owner said expectantly, sliding the wrapped book towards Jeno. He touched the paper and for a while, the room drowned in complete silence and time stopped, like a movie that froze and only showed a single frame. A frame with a book wrapped in a plain paper bag in the center, a woman’s hand with red fingernails touching it on the right, a man’s veined hand touching it on the left. Jeno’s hand.

He moved his fingers the tiniest bit and with them, the book. His body was immediately hit with a wave of electricity, the time unfroze and Jeno sighed heavily, leaning against the counter, like he just ran a hurdle race. „Will that be all?“ asked the owner with a kind smile. „I… can’t just take it.“ „You already did.“ She pointed towards the book Jeno was hugging anxiously, like he was afraid someone would steal it from him. He looked down, sighed again and finally stood up straight again. „I can’t take it for free. Even though I’m just borrowing it. How do you know I won’t run off with it?“ „Are you a thief?“ „No, but… I could be!“ „Well, in that case… How about you leave something behind then, like a pledge? I quite like the ring of yours,“ she pointed on Jeno’s hand, which he quickly pulled away. „That’s… it’s not anything fancy, and it’s bent, twisted… it’s worthless.“ „I’ll lend you a thing that’s worthless to me and you’ll lend me a thing that’s worthless to you. That’s a fair deal I’d say.“ She held out her hand. Jeno hesitated. What will the others think when he comes back without his friendship ring? They probably won’t even notice. „Alright…“ he took off the ring and rolled it around for a bit in his hand. Then, with a guilty feeling, he placed it in the owner’s hand, immediately regretting his decision. „Thank you for your purchase, have a nice day and see you whenever!“ he heard the woman say with a smile, pocketing the ring quickly. Then the door behind him shut with a loud bang and he was staying outside, with a book he didn’t know he needed and without a ring he didn’t remember wearing.

#Lee Jeno #Jeno #NCT Jeno #NCT #NCT Dream #NCT fanfic #Jeno fanfic #NCT scenarios #NCT Dream scenarios #my writing

33 notes · View notes

commanderserwin · 4 years

Text

starting over again.

↦ pairing(s): erwin smith x reader

↦ word count: 4.3k

↦ anon request:

I just wanna say that I really appreciate your writing!!! I love how you put in little details that just ties the whole story. I hope you're well! (If it's okay and not too much work on you, i'd like to request a scenario of Erwin x reader where they fight and then make up later on. You can make it modern au or canon. I am crushing HARD on Erwin lol)

↦ genre(s): modern AU

↦ author’s note(s): anon, i love u. the little details turned into a couple thousand words and here we are! i appreciate you and i hope you’re well too! ♡

ps. enjoy! enjoy! [i had too much fun with this ahh!!!] hope you like it, my anon! sorry to keep you waiting! [starting to think u wanted a different fight & make-up, but this is is what my brain will offer, mwa!]

╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾

“It’s a text.”

“Is it that hard to send one?”

“Why do I even have to?”

“So that I could have a basic idea of where you are?”

“God, we have been together for years.”

“I’m only asking you to text me about your whereabouts.”

Both of you sat at the opposite ends of the couch, staring ahead at the idle television that’s playing a romantic movie— a complete opposite of what is happening. The actors kissed passionately, while you ached for that with him. Because lately, things have been piling up, and up, just waiting for it to all spill until both of you are drowning in unspoken problems. You reached for the remote on the coffee table, shutting down the television to get rid of the jealousy that’s pooling at your stomach.

“I thought we’re watching the movie,” Erwin asked, uncrossing his arms as he reached for the remote on your hand.

“You do that,” you said, clicking the on button as you dropped remote on the couch. “I’m going to bed.”

“Are you tired?”

You could only look at him with wishful eyes, hoping that the years together he could finally see right through your emotions. Tired, physically. Tired, mentally. Tired, of this relationship.

“Yes,” you scoffed, walking towards the bedroom as you peeked through your eyes that Erwin got more comfortable in the couch.

Can’t you reach after me?

Can’t you read me?

Can you whip me around like that stupid romantic scene from the stupid romantic movie that both of you were suppose to watch?

The bed feels lonelier and colder now that he isn’t here. The gap between the two of you have drifted into something larger than even the tips of your fingers and his couldn’t brush anymore. It isn’t there anymore, the emptiness in your heart, the exhaustion of trying to keep everything in check, trying to make everything work because you wanted to hold on to him.

He keeps you afloat, but at the same time, it’s him who makes you feel underwater.

Then it repeats.

Erwin would pad towards the bedroom, his hand hovering over the knob, hesitating if he should sleep with you. He could feel you. He could feel the drought. He could feel the spark fading, even when he tries to keep it alight. He doesn’t know where it went wrong, where it started to fade, where it started to fade into nothing.

He opened the bedroom that he shares with you, his eyes going over your body that was huddled on the opposite side. When it first started, both of you would huddle in the middle; arms wrapped around each other, legs tangled together, hearts beating together— and now. The distance is as wide as it can be. The bed dipped under his weight, his back turned on you, as he cradled his head on his hands.

Erwin gently retreats to his side, laying down as he stares at the ceiling. He turned to face you, seeing your silhouette against the dimmed light, he watched your chest rise up and down, sleeping peacefully. He wanted to touch you, graze his fingers on your skin, feel you... and he reached out.

Then he pulled away his hand.

He heard you sniffle.

Erwin closed his eyes, turning to his side, facing the wall, until the bed shook from your quiet cries.

╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾

In the morning, Erwin would only squeeze your shoulder in passing as he leaves earlier for work.

In the afternoon, Erwin would look at his phone, waiting. His eyes glances over at the computer screen in front of him, then at his phone.

In the evening, Erwin slowly turns the knob over to enter the apartment. It’s empty.

Tonight, the lights are all off as he glanced over at the wall. The clock displayed its hands at 8:00PM, only a few minutes earlier than he would usually be home. You should be too.

He walked towards the kitchen, finding it empty.

He walked towards the bedroom, finding it empty.

He walked towards every door that he could open, finding it empty.

Erwin waited by the couch, his eyes drooping at every minute that passes. Not even the loud action movie could make him open his eyes. His eyes looked back at the clock, 12:00, and he looked at his phone.

No messages.

No calls.

He threw it on the other side of the couch, confusion settling in his chest. If this was your way of payback, it was immature.

You know it was immature.

That’s why Hanji kept glancing at her watch, her eyes going back and forth as she leaned in closer, the immediate smell of alcohol seeping through your mouth as you turned around. Even Levi scrunched his nose when you spoke.

“I think it’s time to head home?”

Hanji asked, placing the coat around your shoulders as her hand pulled you up, but you stayed glued.

“I’ll call Erwin,” Levi muttered, hand going to his phone.

“No!”

Both of them looked at you, your eyes shot and puffy.

“Don’t.”

“Babe, it’s one in the morning,” Hanji cooed, showing you the time on your phone. “You’ve got work.”

“I can call out,” you muttered, hand going up to the bartender.

“She isn’t having any,” Levi said, rummaging through your purse for your credit card. “Just the bill.”

“I don’t want to go home.”

“You have to.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Just talk to Erwin,” Levi sighed, placing the card back in your purse.

“I hope it’s that easy.”

“Who said it’ll be easy?” Hanji whispered, leaning her head on your shoulder as you began to cry again.

You have been crying for almost an hour, tears drying and pouring again at every mention of Erwin. In the end, they coerced you to get into the car while Levi drove and Hanji stayed in the back of the car, holding your hand as you sniffled. It was the car ride of your life that you were terrified of getting off.

It’s the constant fight in your heart that makes you want to let go and yet you find yourself scrambling to hold on to the thread that’s keeping the both of you tied. Maybe you were afraid of breaking it off, maybe you were afraid of growing without him, maybe you were afraid of losing him. Maybe it is time to let go, but you haven’t got the strength to do it, because at the end of your grey thoughts; he is the one standing there, waiting for you.

It was your turn for your hand to hover on the knob. It was your turn to be at Erwin’s shoes, hesitant, apprehensive, as you enveloped the bright lights from the living room.

There he was.

“Where have you been?”

Erwin lowered the volume of the television because he can’t bear of only hearing your voice and his to be heard in the room.

“Just out, had a couple of drinks.”

“It’s one in the morning.”

You look up at his blue eyes, not knowing that he now stood in front of you.

“You could’ve texted me.” Erwin pressed.

“Hah,” you huffed, pulling away from his hand as you wobbly walked towards the kitchen for a nice glass of water. You can’t be near him or else you’ll break down.

“Is this about yesterday?”

“No.”

He stayed in the living room, watching you gulp down the water. You haven’t turned your back on him, your eyes away as you stared at the kitchen wall. Fitting how Erwin kept little small printed pictures of the two of you, and you’re directly looking at it. A nice coffee date by the park. His eyes glued to yours, as you looked at the camera.

“Then what is this about?”

“Let it go,” you muttered, gripping the glass.

You finally turned around, staring at Erwin from a couple of feet away.

“I can’t just let it go.”

“Erwin, please,” you sighed, rubbing your eyes. Please don’t cry, you thought. “I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”

“No,” he said, grasping you by the wrist as you tried to pass by him. He isn’t going to bed like this. “Let’s talk about this.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

You finally stared at his blue eyes, usually finding comfort in them but all you could see was confusion painted. Anger. Betrayal.

You wanted to talk, but you're so scared of what it result in. Of the words that could be said, because you wanted to lie beside him just one last time- or forever, but you are so scared.

"Can we go to bed?" You whispered, breathing hard until you could turn away. "I'm tired, please."

"I heard you crying last night," Erwin said, his eyes looking right at you. His grip softened when your lips quivered as you rubbed your eyes with the other hand. "Why?"

"Because."

"Because what?" Erwin pressed, pulling you to him until you moved a little closer to him.

"Because!" Your voice cracked, pushing him away until you sat on the couch, your hands wet from the way your eyes finally poured their emotions.

Eriwn watch you cry, your shoulders shaking in every breath that you take, your palms wet as you cried into them for minutes. He couldn't help but tear up, finally realizing what this is about. He doesn't want to come to this, but here you are. He let his own tears fall as he watched you, his chest rising up and down as his mind clouded with the only thought he doesn't want to think about.

The drought.

The unspeakable— but it's time to finally voice it out.

"Let's break up."

"What?" You sniffled, wiping away your own tears as you whipped your head to him. He let his tears fall, as he stared.

"Let's break up," Erwin whispered, sitting down on the opposite side of the couch. He stared ahead on the television, finding comfort on the action scenes. "Because this isn't working out. You know it. I do, too."

"Erwin..."

"I'm right, aren't I?" He turned his face to you. His emotions have swam to the ends, feeling nothing as he stared. Until he drowns the all out.

Second turn into seconds turns into minutes. Nobody spoke. Nobody made a move.

Your heart stopping as if this is it. It's ending.

"I don't know where we went wrong," you whispered, wiping your tears away.

"Me too," Erwin agreed, nibbling on his lip. He looked away, chuckling dryly, "We had a good run."

A knife to the heart.

Erwin walked to the door, putting on his shoes as you stood, peeking behind him. You tug on his shirt, making him look at you.

"Where are you going?"

Was it suppose to end like this? It isn't suppose to end like this? The two of you were supposed to work things out, give it a little push, holding on to it until the light is there, until you could see where he was. Not like this. Love is supposed to be like this— the sparks, then here comes the drought.

Love has to be fixed. Love has to be tended. Love has to be thought thoroughly. He keeps you afloat, and little did you know, you did that to him.

He wants to pull you to him, keep you close. It's painful, it's hard, but love is like this. But he is willing to push himself away if you weren't going to catch him.

All of thoughts of breaking up became a blur to him, when he looked at you. He doesn't want to end it. He doesn't want to be away from you. But if this is where the relationship lies, then he'll accept it. All good things comes to an end. Even if he wants to fight tooth and nail to the very ened, but if you don't want it, then what's the use?

"Where are you going?" You asked again. Don't leave, you thought.

"Levi's," he answered, eyes flitting towards yours. "I'll get my things tomorrow."

"Don't go," you quietly said, runching up his shirt that's in your hand. He wrapped his hand over it, softly prying it away as he counted to himself that this is it.

You wrapped your finger around his pinky, throat dry, as you said it again. "Don't go."

Erwin smiled softly, placing his hand over your cheek as he leaned down to kiss your forehead. "You should go to sleep."

╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾

He couldn't sleep. He couldn't eat. He couldn't focus on anything. He couldn't think straight. Always you, you, you. Levi has to drag him off of the bed, ushering him to go to work.

"Get up!" Levi pinched his ear, making him blindly punch Levi.

"No," Erwin groaned.

"It's been a day!"

"Shut up."

"God, you two can't be away from each other."

"We broke up!"

"Like that could happen," Levi groaned, punching Erwin on the arm. "You kept crying about her, just fucking talk to her."

"Like it's that easy."

"No," he punched Erwin again. "Still talk to her. When I come back, I want you gone."

"Where am I going to stay then?"

"Back to your apartment!"

╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾

You couldn't sleep. You couldn't eat. You couldn't focus on anything. You couldn't think straight. Always him, him, him. Hanji has to drag you off of the bed, ushering you to go to work.

"Get up!" Hanji pinched your ear, making you swat away her fingers.

"I don't want to."

"Stop being a baby!" Hanji pinched your ear again. "It's been a day, and here you are! Moping around!"

"We literally just broke up!"

"Yeah, yeah, okay," Hanji sighed, slapping your leg as she threw the blanket off. "Like that could happen."

"It literally just did."

"Okay," Hanji groaned, raising her hands. "Whatever you say. Then we’ll see you two being back again."

"Pfft! Get out of my room!”

╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾

It's been weeks.

The apartment still smells like him. His clothes neatly folded in his cabinet, his hoodies strewn in yours, his shoes by the door, his books on the bedside table, his toothbrush, his gel, his towel— everything that was his is still in the apartment.

Its cruel, how it's just daunting you to touch it.

The side of his bed, cold; and here you are, curled up on it like a wounded dog. Blanket covering your whole body, his pillows against cheek, as you squeezed it, wishing for it to be him.

He colored your thoughts in fragments, often wondering how is he doing, is he eating, is he fine. All the questions that you have no answers.

Suddenly, you found yourself scrambling underneath the blanket, throwing it off as you ran for the bathroom.

One hour, or else you'll miss it.

The line in the coffeeshop is long, and yet you still find yourself falling in line for it.

One black coffee, a croissant, and a cheese danish. Or just one croissant? Or just coffee? Fuck it, you bought it all.

Walking towards the building, you grinned at the security guard as he let you in. It was just you in the elevator, and you took a second before clicking the 32nd floor as you balanced the treats on your arms. Your heart is pounding, making you feel dizzy as you leaned on the wall, making you even feel dizzier as it stopped at every floor. Finally, the doors opened.

No sweat as the secretary opened the doors for you.

The desk. Where is it?

Ah, yes. It's at the end cubicle, by the window. You walked slowly, dodging everybody as you carried yourself towards the desk. It was a long walk and it gave you ample time to prepare yourself for it.

"What are you doing here?" Levi tapped on your shoulder, almost making you lose grip on the hot coffee. "Huh, I knew it."

"What?" Embarrassment glowing on your cheeks, as you tilted your head. "What do you mean?"

"You just missed him."

"I did?"

"I knew you two wouldn't last a few weeks without each other."

"That's just mean, Levi," you whispered, as he led you back to the door. "I'm just... I wanted to see how he was doing."

"Yeah, okay," Levi mumbled, opening the paperbag with the bread. He grabbed one, and quickly munched on it. You could only scowl at him, as he pointed outside. "I don't know where he went, but you just missed him."

"You're no use to me, Levi."

"I'll text you when I ask him."

A smile graced your lips as you pecked him on the cheek, waving your hand as you exited. Levi only took a bite, eyes pointing outside as he eventually called Hanji.

╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾

"What are you doing here?"

Erwin stopped in his tracks. He reluctantly turned around, carrying a latte and a cheese danish. He's sweating by the end as he skipped towards your building, but he failed to get around it, as Hanji only raised a brow.

"I'm..." Erwin sighed defeatedly. He breathed hard as he leaned in to Hanji, "I'm visiting."

"Lovebirds," Hanji sighed, rubbing her temples as she escorted Erwin to the door. "She isn't here."

"Her day-offs aren't until Saturday?" He asked, remembering that it was only Wednesday.

"She called out," Hanji groaned, grabbing Erwin's arm as she clicked for the elevator. Her hand immediately rummaged through the paper bag but Erwin only raised it high.

"Buy your own. It's for her," Erwin smiled, as she pushed her towards the open elevator. "Do you know where she is?"

"No," she breathed, fishing out her phone, "I'll text you if she answers."

The doors closed as he watched Hanji unlock her phone, and retreated inside their company floor.

Erwin clenched his eyes closed, breathing deeply as he kept replaying that night. He regrets it with his full heart when he still let you go. He wants things back to what it was. Maybe a little better.

╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾

The walk back to your building was disappointing. You thought it'll be best to just give it to Hanji as she drinks black coffee, but you opted to keep the cheese danish for yourself. Somewhat humiliating that Levi caught you snooping around Erwin's desk, then he wasn't there. It was just a big disappointed. You wished you didn't get off of that sad bed and just stayed there, wallowing. Daydreaming, heart-breaking— at least you weren't embarrassed.

The elevator door opened, waiting for the people to get off. Once they were gone, you've got the elevator to yourself once again, your fingers reaching for the 23rd floor of your company. The whole bumpy elevator ride, you crossed your arms just waiting for it to stop just so you could give it to Hanji.

You went through the floor, looking out for Hanji's desk. Immediately, you gently placed the coffee and bread while she gawked at you.

"Close your mouth," you muttered, fixing your clothes. "Did the boss look for me?"

"What are you doing here?"

"If people ask me that one more time, I would go crazy," you pushed the food towards her. "For you."

"You just missed him."

"Who?"

"Who!" You screeched, making you duck as people looked at you.

"Erwin!" Hanji grabbed her phone, showing the text to you. "He literally went to find you."

Her hands slithered towards the coffee but you only swatted it away, grabbing it back. "That's for him."

She only squinted her eyes at her, grabbing you by the arm as she pushes you to the elevator. "Out. Out. I'll text you where he is. All the nice phones you two have, and you can't text each other. Out!"

"Ouch," you moaned, pressing the elevator button as you waved at Hanji with a grimace.

╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾

Standing outside the building, you watched all the people get on with their lives. You quickly thought of who was happy, sad, heart-broken like you. Did somebody else went to their ex-boyfriend's work to just chek up on him but then he wasn't there and they had to walk all the way to back feeling humiliated? Or did somebody else fell in line for the expensive coffee and a cheese danish that is meant for their ex-boyfriend? Anybody?

It was ridiculous. How heavy the breaking up is. All the emotions, tears, feelings, and the numbing pain that it came with it and it ends right here. Both of you looking for each other on opposite blocks, hoping to catch them. You wouldn't call it unneccessary because you grew. You grew in those last fews you've spent alone, trying to focus on yourself, at work, even if you were all puffy eyes every morning. Still, you grew.

Just weeks of being alone, made you feel that it's okay to not be in a relationship. Keep your own self afloat.

But it just bites you back in the ass because you wanted him. You looked for him.

In the morning, even the squeezes on your shoulder as Erwin leaves for his work.

In the afternoon, when you check your phone for anything, yet there was nothing.

In the evening, where you'll turn the knob over to find him, busy with his movies.

But in those mornings, he'd whisper an "I love you."

But in those afternoons, he'd text you a sleeping emoji.

But in those evenings, he'd have a warm plate of dinner waiting for you.

And it's normal for love not to be all sparkly. It's okay when it doesn't always makes you blush, it's okay if conversations turns into smaller nothings as both of you laugh away, it's okay if he only holds you in his sleep. You're finished with that falling in love phase.

Both of you are in love already— familiar with the ups and downs, the silence, the years spent with each other dull or not, love is still there.

Because in his mornings, he'd keep his eyes closed even if his alarm already rang, until he feels you stir awake, your lips kissing him on his shoulder as a "Good morning."

Becuase in his afternoons, he'd receive a wacky picture of you, and he sets it as his background for a moment.

Because in his evenings, he'd have a hot cup of decaf coffee by the kitchen.

╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾

Erwin leaned on your company's building as he watched you. He made sure he was hidden as best as he could, grateful for the amount of people passing by. He watched you scowl and frown, and smile sadly as people passed by, harshly speaking why you were in the middle of the pathway. He'd watch you grip the coffee in your hand, and peek at the paper bag, your lips turning down— rightfully guessing that you'll keep that cheese danish that he always buys for himself but you end up eating it.

That's why he always buy an extra one.

And it's sitting warmly inside the paper bag he was holding. He bit his lip, thinking when you'll notice him by the wall, but he's been looking at you for minutes already and you haven't looked back yet. He sighed, clutching the paper bag, his heart thumping loudly as he slowly approached you.

He wants to make things right. It gave him so much hope already when he realized that you were looking for him.

God, even looking at you makes his heart ache, he thought, in a good way.

"Looking for me?"

What a wicked thing to say, you thought. That's the first thing Erwin has said to you, in a failed attempt for a pick-up line... and its cruel enough that it sounds like him.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes at the person who just said that. You quickly did a double-take, whipping your head as you looked at the person.

It's him.

Erwin.

He cocked his head at the coffee you were holding. It's gone cold now but he'll take it. "Is that for me?"

It's really him.

"Yes," you answered, your hands cold as you gave it to him. He gladly accepted it, his eyes twinkling as he looked at you. The blue eyes you've gone to look for and miss, and he's really here.

"Latte and the cheese danish," Erwin smiled, giving the bag to you.

Both of you are blocking the pathway, making the people walk around. All their mean spews were nothing as he stared at your familiar eyes that he's come to want to look at forever. Erwin breathed nervously, as he pointed at the nearby public space with creaky chairs.

"Should we go sit there?" Erwin asked, and you could only follow his finger, absolutely knowing where it's pointing at.

"Just like the old times?" You asked breathily, starting to walk towards the first spot both of you shared. Erwin was quick to match your strides as he nodded.

Life is crazy.

Both of you walked together, accidental brushes of the hands as both of you walked quietly. He supressed a smile as he peeked down at you, feeling another brush of his hands on yours. He brushed his fingers on you, his eyes shifting towards the people and back at you.

And he's missed that. Your smile as you leaned in closer, as his finger wrapped around your pinky. Finally, the both of you reached the creaky table set, sitting on it gently as you opened the coffees and the danishes.

Erwin smiled, as he blew on your latte. He placed it at your side, his heart swelling up as you smiled widely. He watched you take a first seep, instantly seething as it burnt your tongue.

You looked up at him, embrassment on your cheeks as you always burnt your tongue, drinking your coffee. In one familiar move, he placed his hand in front of you. Erwin only cocked his head to the side, a smile on his lips as he nudged his head, waiting for you to accept his hand.

Instantly, you knew what it was.

This was how he first introduced himself years ago. That stupid pick-up line that made you roll your eyes. He took the spare sit before you, mumbling how he hates spending his lunch-time cooped up in that awful desk of his, and he prefers to sit here, on this table, but you already called dibs on it. Then he offered his hand. And the rest was history.

"Should we start over again?"

#erwin smith #erwin x reader #erwin smith x reader #erwin smith imagine #erwin smith imagines #attack on titan #attack on titan imagines #attack on titan imagine #snk imagines #snk #snk imagine #aot imagines #aot imagine #aot erwin #snk erwin #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #shingeki no kyojin x reader #shingeki no kyoujin #shingeki no kyojin

237 notes · View notes

rq-s · 3 years

Text

Title: Lucid Dreams - Chapter 1

Word Count: 2680

Warnings: Mingyu is featured heavily in the first few chapters and is directly involved in significant plot events. Due to recent events, I understand if reading these chapters may make you uncomfortable, but be aware that you’d be missing core story elements by skipping them. (Details)

Lucid Dreams Masterlist

Prologue |

It was an hour after dawn, the streets were busy with students and workers on their commute. Yn gazed out of her apartment window, forlornly missing when she would do that. Why wasn’t I doing that? I should still be in college, worrying about scores and my social life.

She was still slowly waking up, with unfocused eyes and bad balance, as she sat at her desk. She shifted in her chair and faced her journal again, with two blank pages staring up at her.

It started as a school project, but it turned into a habit that Yn kept through her youth.

Yn stood and left it open without having written anything, frustrated with herself. If she had dreamt last night, it was long gone from her mind, and she had nothing else to write. There were more days like this lately. Update-less, absent days.

Eventually, Yn left the apartment complex with her phone and wallet and walked the familiar path. For weeks she had been going on walks around town, and she’d always somehow pass by the same peculiar store. She found herself lingering there, wanting to go in just to have her questions answered, but something within herself always stopped her. Online searches turned up very little. Just some patents, an under construction website, a local news article, and a few social media postings by previous customers. Everything she found only made her more curious.

The town seemed quiet, though it wasn’t ever busy. It made the journey to Dream Store a peaceful one, even as Yn's nervousness began to bubble.

She arrived a few hours before noon, the sunlight warm and shining brightly past the cartoonish and fluffy clouds. The well-tended potted plants, power washed sidewalk, and neon sign all had a strangely comforting feeling to them that welcomed her. Even the grey layered siding was sweet, despite how it clashed with the surrounding architecture. Yn stood on the sidewalk, facing the front patio, and hardened her resolve. Today would be her first time seeing what it was like inside; she refused to put it off anymore.

Yn approached the door in quick strides and read the print on the window before entering. “Dream Store | keeping hold of our hearts.”

Her breathing went still as soon as she pulled the door open. It was more spacious inside than the exterior led on, having a pastel pallet and being well lit. It felt like the door way was more then just the entrance to a business.

The first thing to see was the bar. A fairly long one, taking up most of the far wall, yet was still tucked in the corner. From the left wall towards the center were eight different taps, and on a counter behind the bar were two large blenders, a sink, and a small ice cream station with five flavors. A small Bluetooth speaker on the end of the counter was playing instrumental lo-fi, and somehow the air itself felt light and bubbly against her skin. On the wall above the bar was a large LED menu with what appeared to all be beverages in narrow-necked glass bottles. On the little space that was left against the far wall was a freezer, decorated in stickers and notes. So it’s a juice bar? The tweets just mentioned ice cream. There was a hallway by the fridge, presumably leading to bathrooms and the staff area. In front of that and against the right wall were wood tables and chairs with mismatched cushions. There were similar tables meant for two on the left side, with what seemed to be medium sized square lockers, and two vending machines full of those same bottled drinks from the LED screen. It all felt surreal, it was too perfect.

“Excuse me?” Yn’s attention was brought back to reality by the voice of man, one she hadn’t even seen standing behind the bar until that moment. His fingers were intertwined and rested gently on the bar while he leaned forward, as if he’d been calling her for a while. Once he saw he had her attention, he stood upright and smiled sincerely.

“Welcome to our Dream Store!” It was as if the entire scenario was a prank, he was an actor and this business was a set. Everything was still and quiet, with nothing and nobody in existence but this store and the two of them.

Finally, Yn approached the bar.

Instead of a name tag, the name Mingyu was sewn onto the collar of his white dress shirt. He was very tall, and his uniform was clearly tailored for to fit him perfectly. His smile was kind and courteous as he spoke to her.

“Is this your first time here?” He asked gently, but with no less energy in his voice than before. Yn nodded.

“Gotcha, let’s find you a table then.” He chirped, and walked around from behind the bar, grabbing a physical menu from somewhere behind the register. “Do you like to sit by the window, or in the corner?”

“Anywhere that lets me see the exits, please.” She answered softly. Mingyu didn’t seem phased by her request and tapped his chin in thought while looking around. Only then did Yn notice one of the benches by the hallway was taken, where two teenage girls were fast asleep. It wasn’t uncommon to see college kids or overworked employees taking powernaps at cafés, but seeing them sleeping so peacefully while hunched over the table was something Yn found odd. Are those pillows matching the seat cushions?

Mingyu decided to seat her at one of the tables for two, the one closest to the taps on the bar. She could observe the whole store there, and had a clear view of the front door and the hallway, while sitting snugly in the corner by the vending machines. Yn sat down carefully as Mingyu set the menus in front of her. Sitting down brought her attention up, making her notice the peculiar ceiling with exposed beams, cords, pipes, and ducts, all painted white to match the ceiling itself. Something about the unconventional look of it was comforting for Yn, as if the establishment itself was being laid bare for her.

“First, thank you for coming in, we really appreciate your interest,” He smiled awkwardly for a moment before continuing, “I’m going to get someone from the back to watch the register for me, feel free to look at that menu in the meantime.” Mingyu lowered his head a tiny bit then swiftly headed down the hallway.

Thank you for visiting our Dream Store! All the staff here are proud of our beverages, passionate about our purpose, and excited to give you a safe, enjoyable experience when you spend time with us. We believe that we offer your community something special, not only with our drinks, but with our potential to give each visitor a unique and individualized experience.

Mingyu came back before she could read further, with another tall young man behind him, who promptly went behind the counter and washed his hands after smiling in acknowledgment to her. He seemed familiar, but she didn’t know why or how. Mingyu sat himself across from her with a sigh, feeling very nervous and struggling to act like he wasn’t.

“Alright, sorry about that. Did you get a chance to look at the menu?”

“Only the first paragraph.”

“Okay cool, the way the menu explains it is kind of weird, so it’s better that I do it.” Yn only grew more confused. She watched as Mingyu glanced over towards the other man, she wanted to look back to see what was going on, but didn’t. Instead, Yn watched as Mingyu squinted, shook his head in confusion, and then silently gasped in realization, all within a few moments. Mingyu swallowed and nodded to himself before redirecting his focus back to her.

“Is it alright if I know your name?”

“Uh, sure? It’s Yn.” He nodded formally and put on awkward smile.

“It's nice to meet you, I’m Mingyu. Like I said, thanks for coming in today.” He failed to fight the cringe on his own face and hurried past it.

“Essentially, we can offer you different kinds of drinks: juices, sodas, and smoothies. They’re all made by us, with our recipes, and you can either have them made for here or to go, or even from the coolers right here.” He leaned over and patted the cooler that had a variety of colored drinks in sturdy glass bottles.

“Why do you need to explain that to me?” She asked without thinking, having already picked up on the fact that this was a place that sold beverages. It was a selling point that they concoct them themselves, and that they can do all this seemingly without a big brand to fund them, but she doubted that it required introduction to every new customer. Yn heard the man behind the register chuckle, then try to hide it with a cough.

“I was getting there.” He stammered, his face flushing a soft red.

“If you’d like to have something here, there’s the option to make it a sleep aid. We call it a Sleepy. With those, we prepare the drink as we usually would, but instead of the liquid sugar we usually use, we use a mix of liquid sugar and drowsiness medicine. We’ve been able to use that in a low volume but effective dose to allow our customers to have a refreshing drink, followed by a recharging nap.” Yn watched him cringe again as he tried his best to explain it without making it sound as bizarre as it was. He continued as soon as she tried to comment, eager to get it the introduction over with.

“You don’t need to worry though! When a visitor picks one of our sleepy drinks, we give them a key to their corresponding table, and that key opens one of those lockers. You can put your things there beforehand so you know they’re safe while you sleep. We have cameras in here and outside, and there’s always at least one member of staff on duty who's trained to handle altercations of any kind, and all of us are trained in first aid and emergency procedures like CPR.” There was another chuckle from behind her, and he didn’t even try to hide it this time. Mingyu glared at him, and this gave Yn her opening to speak.

“So you take safety seriously, that’s good…” She was at a loss of what to say, having been bombarded with information, all of it outside of what she’d expected. She wasn't sure what the odds were leaning toward: him having a scripted yet speedy and thorough defense to any worries or questions she’d have, or that he’d flounder as soon as she asked for details.

“Of course we do. We know it’s a risk to just take a nap at a café. Especially one run but a bunch of young adult guys. But we’re trying something new that no one else in the world is doing, and we really believe in it.” Mingyu’s sudden sentiment was sincere, and his nervousness looked more like vulnerability now. Something compelled her to trust him. Maybe what he was saying about having something completely unique wasn’t true, Yn had no clue, but it might as well be for a town like theirs.

“You’ll notice that we have 13 distinct drink options available right now, each one named after a member of the staff.” Mingyu opened the menu and flipped a few pages till Yn could see depictions of each of the drinks. They were colorful, and beautifully presented on the pages, with descriptions of each one. He stopped on a page of cool toned drinks.

“Let’s say you come in and decide to order a Sleepy Mingyu, that’s this one,” He pointed to the deep purple iced drink and tapped its picture fondly. “It’ll come in a medium glass bottle, with a straw and napkin of course, along with a locker key that corresponds to whatever table you pick. While we’re making it, you can put your stuff in the locker, and inside the locker will be a small pillow, but you don’t have to use it if you don’t want to. We switch the covers after every use and wash all of them each night, so don’t worry about that either. You can decide to keep the key with you, or give it to whoever’s at the register for safekeeping.” He began to ramble again, wracking his brain to make sure he mentioned everything Yn could possibly need to know while to keep himself from growing too embarrassed. She sat there patiently, listening as he helped her understand. He seemed to grow more uneasy with each word.

“You’ll probably want to wait at your table till the drink is done, it usually takes less than five minutes. We’ll bring it to you.”

Mingyu paused and took a deep breath, biting the inside of his cheek in thought, picking his words carefully. He hadn’t looked at her since his sentiment about safety and now it seemed like he was actively choosing not to look up at her.

“The Sleepys only come in medium because the drowsiness medicine is fast acting, and we try to make sure that you’ll have enough time to finish it all before you fall asleep.” He looked to the man behind the counter, and this time Yn dared to look at him too. But he only looked at Mingyu, giving his coworker an encouraging, albeit aggressive, thumbs up. Mingyu shook his head.

“This is really weird, Jun. How do you guys explain this kind of thing without seeming creepy?!” He seemed deeply upset, frustrated and on the verge of tears. It suddenly felt like Yn was intruding on something private.

“Take a breath, okay?” The man came around the counter and spoke gently to his colleague, kneeling to the ground like a father would when speaking to a child. He was close enough now that Yn could read the name on his collar as Junhui. He put his hand on Mingyu’s knee and squeezed it a few times, urging him to relax. Then he turned to Yn.

“Once you finish your drink, you’re gonna fall asleep, and we’ll watch over you while you do. You’ll have a great dream, and we’ll wake you up at whatever time you told us to when you ordered, or after you’ve been asleep for 2 hours.” Junhui stood back up, and patted Mingyu’s shoulder while still looking at Yn.

“Mingyu is a really great guy. He cares a lot about people and about what we're trying to do here. And if you ask me, his drink is one of the best.” Junhui’s smile was warm and his tone of voice was calming as he praised his friend. Mingyu still couldn’t look at her, facing away from her entirely and looking downtrodden. Yn didn’t know what to say and instead decided to read the blurb about Mingyu's concoction.

A sweetly rich concord grape flavored soda! Mingyu’s soda brings one’s imagination to life, while remaining proud and inspired.

“I’ll try it.” She spoke casually, trying to imagine what such a drink would taste like. It had been so long since she’d had a grape flavored drink of any kind, and something carbonated sounded great in that moment.

“You don’t have to.” Mingyu said pitifully, assuming she chose his drink to help him feel better.

“The picture looks really pretty, I wanna see if it really looks like that.” Her bluntness stunned him, and he wondered if she was bluffing. Even so, he resolved to grin and bare it, standing up from the table. Junhui stepped back and smiled, leaving silently as Mingyu went back behind the counter.

“Alright… Let’s get it ordered then!” He bolstered, ready to reaffirm himself in the form of a fancy looking grape juice.f

#rq-s lucid dreams #seventeen #svt #seventeen x reader #mingyu x reader #kim mingyu x reader #svt mingyu x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen au #just a note: i'm not sure about hwo realisticly possible the concept of the slyy drinks is #i spent some time researching it but just remeber that this isnt suposed to refelt reality 100%#aka please dont get mad at me if it's weird logistically #id also like to say that in no way shape or form are th esleepys intended to be similar to a club drug or any other type of nefarious drug #im sorry if this makes anyone uncomfortable #please bear with me as things are explained farther in futuer chapters #but rest assured that that kind fo content isnt goign to be in this story in any capacity #ANYWAY this is the first chapter!#after this we'll start getting into more fanfictiony content with the boys but there will still be a bit more explanaton of things #but this is hopefully the most heavy handed that will be #im trying to integrate it better but this was the best i could manage for this section #i hope it wasnt too confusing and if you have any questions please feel free to ask!!#thank you for reading <3

24 notes · View notes

acciowests · 4 years

Text

Complicated Addictions

WORD COUNT: 1756

SUMMARY: When Nesta stands Cassian up on a date, an angry and upset Cassian decides to head over to her apartment to find out exactly why she was so intent on making him suffer.

Cassian didn't know why he hadn't just gone home. Perhaps he should have phoned Rhysand and seen if he wanted to get a drink, or maybe he could have gone to the nearest club and fucked some girl who rubbed up against him as he sat alone at the bar. But no, he had come here.

The Illyrian tried to push down the anger that boiled inside him as he banged on the door of Nesta Archeron's apartment. His hands were balled in fists at his side's as he waited for the young fae to answer the door. He had made sure she was in when he had passed her building, the lights that were on in her room said that she was. The soft pitter-patter of her bare feet against the wooden floor filled his ears as she advanced, unlatching the lock and pulling the door open. She didn't bother to even meet his eyes as she turned back on her heels, heading toward her living room.

Nesta had gotten the apartment in Velaris a few years ago when she had decided that living with her sisters and the Illyrian boys whom her sisters were friends with wasn't something she was fond of. The apartment had not been cheap and every penny Nesta had spent to purchase it had belonged to her sister's mate. Yet, she came and left as if it had cost nothing at all. The kitchen was the first room, pale brown wooden floors with white cabinets with black countertops. The apartment had two bedrooms, each on opposite sides, both with ensuite bathrooms. Nesta's living room was nothing but generic. Two leather brown sofas and a matching armchair all centred around the large flat screen tv that mounted the back wall. A charcoal grey matt rested beneath a glass coffee table and the surrounding walls were painted cream, each displaying multiple framed photos. Some were basic pictures that had most likely came with the frame, flowers in a field, puppies with their tongues hanging from their mouths. Then there were the ones that actually meant something, a picture of her sister Elain while planting, a picture of her family before her mother had died. Even at the age of nine, Nesta still looked the same. Her lighter hair was tied in braids, her hand resting on Elain's shoulders as Feyre sat on their mother's lap, their father supposedly behind the camera. Nesta's young eyes were filled with the ice that Cassian knew now, that little mouth of hers curling into a smile that didn't meet her eyes, exactly the same as it didn't now. Somehow, at such a little age, she had still held the world on her shoulders.

Turning to the side so his wings could fit through the narrow doorway, Cassian entered the brightly lit apartment. He shut the door behind, slipping his boots off and heading toward the sofa. He was bound to be here all night knowing how much Nesta loved to avoid conversation. Settling her legs beneath her, Nesta curled against the arm of one of the leather sofas, picking up the book that rested on the seat beside her and flipping it open. Surely some smutty romance novel. A large black pyjama shirt hung from her slim frame, her long legs were bare beneath it and her golden-brown hair was tied up into a messy heap atop her angular makeup-less face. Cassian hated how he noticed the dusting of freckles on her nose that only ever appeared during summer. Running a hand through his rain-soaked locks, Cassian sat at the other end of the sofa, glaring at Nesta. She didn't move her eyes from her page.

"A text would have been nice," he growled, leaning back and hooking an ankle atop his knee.

He had been at that restaurant for an hour. A fucking hour until he had given up and come here. It wouldn't have hurt as much if it was some random girl Azriel had hooked him up with for a first date, but this was Nesta. Things with Nesta were always far more complicated.

Nesta just shrugged, turning a page of her book, "My phone died." The phone that sat upon the table before her made Cassian think differently, especially when it lit up seconds later with no noise to match it. Silent, she had put her phone on silent.

"Why say yes to me if you're not gonna show up?" He questioned, noting how she still hadn't bothered to look at him since he arrived. Cassian drummed his fingers against his thigh impatiently as Nesta continued reading.

"I'm tired of your shit, Nesta. I'm not leaving until you're honest with me." Cassian snapped, leaning forward toward Nesta who simply acted as if he was not there. This was not a rare occurrence, he was used to having to rile her up to get any sort of reply. He wondered how much longer he would try to break past her walls, how much longer he would care enough to try. Apparently, two years wasn't enough.

"I called you. You made me look like a fucking idiot. I waited for an hour, Nesta. And you fucking stood me up!" He cursed, watching as she yet again flipped a page and continued reading.

Before he even realised what his body was doing, Cassian had slid across the sofa, grabbed the book from her hands and smacked it down on the table. His wings were tucked in tightly behind him and he was right up beside her, their legs brushing. Nesta's face whipped to his, a fire burning within those cold eyes of hers. As her eyes met him for the first time that evening, they flicked over all of him. He was wearing a navy blue suit, had had it fitted specifically for their date. Of course, Cassian would have just worn jeans and a nice sweater, but Rhys knew someone who was willing to fit him a suit in time for his date in only a week's time.

Nesta's eyes lifted from his shirt, looking at him directly, "What exactly do you want me to say?"

"I want you to fucking apologize. I want you to tell me why you didn't show up!" He told her, face only inches from her's. He wanted more than anything to cup her face and kiss her, he wanted the feel of her lips on him. On his lips, on his chest, wrapped around him wholly.

Nesta scoffed, "I felt sorry for you! You've asked me out so many times, it's pathetic!"

Cassian blinked, leaning away from Nesta as she looked down her nose at him. Realising what she had done, what she had said, Nesta bit down on her bottom lip, avoiding Cassian's eyes. She really knew how to hurt him.

"Cassian..." She breathed.

Cassian stood from the sofa, running a hand through his hair as he crossed the room to the window. The city below was drenched in rain, thick black clouds washing over Velaris. His chest felt tight, a lump growing in his throat as his eyes glazed over. He wouldn't fucking cry.

"Cassian," Nesta repeated. He heard as she stood, walking up behind him. He could almost feel the warmth radiating from her. Her breath made his skin tingle as she spoke, "I'm sorry."

Cassian turned, he towered over Nesta. He had never noticed how small and fragile she was compared to him. Cassian slipped his callused palm into Nesta's soft gentle hand, intertwining their fingers. She did not pull away. He leaned forward, resting his forehead against Nesta's and cupping her cheek with his spare hand. "Just be honest," he begged, stroking his thumb against her cheekbone, "I need to know, Nes. Please."

Nesta shifted, moving closer and slipping an arm around his waist as she leaned her face into his palm. Her bottom lip had begun to tremble as she squeezed his hand, "I can't, you know I can't."

Cassian slipped his hand around to the back of her head, holding her closer to him. Just in case she tried to slip away again. He would leave. If tonight didn't go the way he wanted it to, he would walk out of her life. He couldn't live like this anymore.

"Nessie," he breathed, his breath warm against her skin. He pulled the band from her hair, letting her hair fall messily around her face, he ran his fingers through it, taking in the coconut scent he adored. Nesta removed her hands from him, inching forward and gripping his collar, resting her head in the crook of his neck. He wrapped his arms around her waist, his wings curling around the both of them.

"I'm not good for you," she told him, running her nose along the length of his neck, a low groan escaping Cassian's lips.

He hooked a finger under her chin, lifting her face to meet his, "I decide that."

She shook her head, despite the hold he had on her. Retaking Cassian's hand, Nesta turned, pulling him and leading the both of them back to the sofa. She settled against the leather, the cold fabric like a harsh kiss upon her legs as she patted the seat beside her. Without a second thought, Cassian took the seat, resting a hand immediately on Nesta's thigh. She shuffled, leaning her head on his shoulder and letting out a long breath.

"I was a coward, that's why I didn't show up," she began, laying her palm atop of Cassian's and intertwining their fingers.

Cassian shifted to look down at her properly, a frown crinkled in his dark brows, "What do you mean?"

Nesta let out a chuckle, " I mean that I was a fucking coward. I was scared to admit that I like you, and showing up would just... make that feeling real."

A smile grew across Cassian's lips, "And it's real?"

Turning to him, Nesta gently brushed her lips against Cassian's. A soft kiss, allowing him to taste her before she pulled away and rested her head against Cassian's brow, turning to cup his cheeks in both hands. They sat like that for a while, holding one another in a way that they never had before. He wanted to kiss her again, the feel of her lips was like a drug and he had become addicted. But she was here, and he had his arms around her. She felt like home.

Nesta whispered, her voice warm against his face, "It's real."

* * *

if you want to be added to my acotar taglist just send me a dm or an ask!!

#fanfic #fanfiction #my writing #writing #sarah j maas #sjm #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #nesta x cassian #nessian au #nessian fanfic #nessian angst #angst

81 notes · View notes

gloriainalbis · 4 years

Text

Strangers

Part 1 - Losers (S1E1)

Nathan Young x Reader Words: 4.4k Warnings: Swearing, mentions of sex, drugs Songs: Strangers - The Kinks Bad Reputation - Joan Jett

“So you've been where I've just come From the land that brings losers on”

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Masterlist | Ao3

As bad days go, you’re having a pretty horrible one when you arrive at the Wertham Community Center. It’s the first of many to come, part of the court-mandated service that goes along with your ASBO. Your dad keeps telling you that you’re lucky the judge had been so lenient and should be grateful that he’s allowing you to stay with him and your stepmum again– even though you have no one to stay with and nowhere else to go. And he’s your dad. “In the future,” you tell him while getting out of the car, “I think I’ll walk.”

Striding through the frosted glass of the front doors, you continue on to the locker rooms to change into the orange jumpsuits you find waiting for you. You choose a locker on the far wall and dump your stuff there. You decide to leave your t-shirt on underneath, zipping the suit up most, but not all, of the way. Finished, you lean back to take a look at your designated companions for the 200 hours to be dispersed across the next few months. One girl has chosen her locker to be in front of the mirror. Her hair is short, curly, and pinned back on the side to form some cute bangs-like fringe. You notice an ankle monitor adorning her lower leg as she strips down to a pink lace pushup bra and panties and steps into her jumpsuit, rolling up the sleeves and bottom cuffs and adding a gold belt around her waist to complete the ensemble. The color of her earrings and bangle bracelets– both large, round, pink, and plastic– match her underwear. She steps back to take a look at herself and smiles. Another girl brushes her hair back into a high and tight ponytail. She looks curvier than the first girl, but just as confident, pairing smoky black eye makeup with shiny, pale pink lip gloss and gold hoop earrings. The guy who’d taken a locker near yours fishes a cigarette out of his pocket and sticks it between his lips. He looks equal parts cute and odd, tall and lanky with a mop unruly, curly hair framing his face. He wears a red and black checkered shirt and an air of swaggering cockiness radiates from him with a pungency usually reserved for uncommonly offensive odors. He smirks at you slyly. The guy with the locker across from the two girls looks vaguely familiar to you. He has two gold chains, one with a cross, and a grey tank top. His jumpsuit is only zipped up halfway, with the arms tied around his waist. He looks remarkably fit, and, not having much of an affinity for sports, you wonder where you recognize him from. The last person you see in the locker room is shadowy and reserved. His hair is short and neatly combed and his jumpsuit is buttoned up all the way to the very last button. He holds a small, black camera phone in his hand and shifts his gaze between people nervously. As you start to file out, one last person stomps in front of you, looking you up and down as he nearly bowls you over. You grimace as he winks. The first thing you notice about him is the immaculate green flat-brimmed baseball cap. You suspect that this hat and others like it are a large part of his personality. Once you’re all together, a man introducing himself as your probation worker, Tony, leads you outside and has you line up against some railing as he gives what you believe is supposed to be a rousing speech. From left to right is Curtis, Gary, Nathan, you, Kelly, Alisha, and Simon. You would learn their names later, but for the purposes of clarity, we’ll start using them now. Tony paces before you, attempting to assume the macho, fear-inducing demeanor of a boot camp officer. “This is it,” he barks. “This is your chance to do something positive. Give something back. You can help people, you can really make a difference to people’s lives. That’s what community service is all about. There are people out there who think you’re scum. You have an opportunity to show them they’re wrong.” He has the tone of someone who has given this speech before and is just barely holding onto their faith in its underlying message. The girl to your left, Kelly, looks mildly offended at the word “scum,” as if Tony had been speaking directly to her. “Yeah, but what if they’re right?” Nathan interrupts on your right. He looks around at the rest of you, “No offense, but I’m thinking some people are just born criminals.” You smile to yourself and try to hold back a chuckle as a look of anger flashes over suspected-douchebag-Gary’s eyes and he bursts out with “Are you looking to get stabbed?” “You see my point there?” Nathan asks, turning back to Tony. A phone rings and Alisha answers with a casual “Hey,” while twirling a curl between her manicured fingers. Tony tries to continue, but he’s becoming increasingly exasperated. “Doesn’t matter what you’ve done in the past-” “Doin’ my community service,” Alisha speaks to her phone. “Hey!” He tries and fails to catch her attention. “Boring as fuck,” she continues. It was getting harder not to laugh and you glance at Nathan out of the corner of your eye, amused at the part he had to play in the deterioration of Tony’s speech. “Excuse me!” He tries again. “Hello, I’m still talking here.” “What, I thought you’d finished?” She didn’t care, evidently. “You see my lips still moving, that means I’m still talking.” He tries to assert something akin to authority but clearly doesn’t realize how poorly that approach tends to work on rag-tag groups of rebellious young offenders. “Yeah, but you could have been yawning, or chewing,” Nathan points out facetiously in a drawling tone. Tony ignores him, but you are full-on laughing at this point. “End the call! Hang up!” He shouts at Alisha to no avail. “My probation worker,” she explains to the person on the other line. “You all right there, weird kid?” Nathan leans past you to point at Simon, who stood alone at the far end of your lineup. Tony fumed. “Don’t be disgusting. I’ll call you later.” She finally hangs up, looking over at Nathan, who was approaching Gary and making kissing noises at him. “I’ll rip out your throat and shit down your neck,” Gary snaps back. He looks amusingly short in comparison, you now realize. Curtis grimaces and leans away from the touchy ball of anger standing next to him. “I shouldn’t be here, man.” Kelly gapes at his arrogance as Gary starts to scuffle with Nathan, grabbing at his jumpsuit. “We need to work as a team here. Hey, that’s enough!” Tony takes a few steps forward. “Can I move to a different group? This isn’t going to work for me,” Curtis continues, even though Tony is clearly otherwise engaged. You lean back, nearly bumping into Kelly as she steps to Cutis’ indirect insults. “Um… What makes you think that you’re better than us?” “What is that accent?” Nathan comments, drawn out of his conflict by the way her “us” sounded a lot more like “oss” “Is that for real?” Curtis scoffs, rolling his eyes. “What, are you tryna’ say something or yeah?” She speaks, the latter half her sentence mostly lost due to her lack of enunciation. “Its- you- that’s just a noise! Are we supposed to be able to understand her?” Nathan exclaims. You shake your head and raise your eyebrows at their audacity and Kelly’s incoherence. She sticks her hand out and flips him off, “Do you understand that?” Things escalate again when Nathan puts an arm around a violently unwilling Gary who responds by grabbing him and preparing to punch. “Hey, pack it in!” Tony lunges forward to separate them “It’s love, man!” Nathan yells. You double over, stepping back to get out of the way. Kelly meets your gaze and smirks at the growing scene before you. Alisha laughs, a high-pitched giggle. Tony stood between them now, pulling Gary further and further away from Nathan, who assumed a boxer’s stance and put up his fists comically. “Do it man! Do it! You’re a prick, man, look at you!” Gary calls, trying to push past Tony. “What the fuck are they doin’?” You say to everyone behind you as Kelly looks between you and Alisha. Simon looks like he’d rather be elsewhere, as does Curtis, but for different reasons. Nathan had taken to punch the air, which only served to further aggravate Gary. “You’re a fuckin’ pussy, bruv! He’s takin’ the piss, come here!” Cue the intro music. -- Tony eventually diffuses the conflict between Nathan and Gary and finally leads everyone to some benches by the lake, which you are told to paint white. Paint drips everywhere, from your shoes to the concrete sidewalk, but you hardly care. How different is this from the reason you were here in the first place? You were reprimanded for painting on someone else’s property and were told to instead paint on someone else’s property to pay for it, how is that supposed to work? The only difference is that the first time had been art, and this was largely pointless. They wanted to cover up the graffiti on these benches, but the new paint job would only make future acts of vandalism easier to see. You did it anyway, though, happy to peel off with Nathan and Kelly as Curtis and Alisha and Simon and Gary pair off to the benches on either side of you. You watch as Gary leans down to pick up more paint on his brush, his hat brushing dangerously close to the fresh paint before it finally touches, leaving a stark white smear on the brim. You poke Nathan’s shoulder and point as Gary notices, ripping off his hat in horror and stomping off in a huff, kicking a bucket of paint into the lake and leaving behind a violent burst of white. “Oh, man! There’s paint on my cap, this is bullshit!” “Ooh!” Alisha whistles as he walks past. Everyone turns and stares as he struggles with a shopping cart that’s in his way, kicking it at first before trying and failing to shove it into the lake as well when it simply falls in front of him, still blocking the path. “I know you,” you hear Alisha say to Curtis, perking up due to your own curiosity. “No, you don’t,” he brushes her off. “Yes, I do,” She continues, unphased. “You’re that runner guy. You screwed up big time.” That’s it. You’d seen him years ago at your secondary school’s track meets and races, and later in the news for his accomplishments and subsequent arrest. “You noticed, yeah? Thanks for reminding me.” He grew increasingly annoyed, and it was abundantly clear. Overhearing, Nathan glances up at Kelly and tries to strike up a conversation, “So I’m guessing shoplifting?” She ignores him. “No?” He was about to speak again when she cuts him off, “Don’t act like you know me, ‘cuz you don’t.” “I’m just makin’ conversation!” He motions to you and Kelly, “This is a chance to network with other young offenders. We should be swapping tips. Brainstorming!” He looks at you to continue, but you stay silent, also curious about Kelly’s infraction. You shrug and he looks back at her. “Come on, what did you do?” “This girl called me a slag so I just got into a fight,” she admits, slapping her paintbrush to the bench in annoyance. “Was this on the Jeremy Kyle show?” He jokes. “No, it was at Argos.” “Argos?” you ask, finding the store an odd place to get into fights. “You know what you should’ve done? You should have got one of them little pens and jabbed it in her eye.” He was referring to the pens for filling out the catalog cards at Argos and you smirk at the image, but Kelly just stares at him incredulously. It’s an odd thing to say to someone you barely knew. He turns to look at you, “And you? I need to know what we’re workin’ with here.” “Ah…” You glance between Nathan and Kelly before continuing, “Graffiti, mostly, and throwing a party that bugged my neighbors, breaking the peace.” You had broken the law, technically, but it was nothing compared to punching someone and getting into a fight in the middle of Argos. He raises his eyebrows curiously, “Is there a story behind it or was it just mindless vandalism?” “It was on the wall of my apartment, my landlord saw it when he went to break up a party that my friends were throwing and he said he’d report me.” “Oh, what a wanker!” Nathan exclaims. “The worst part is I lost the apartment and now I’ve gotta live with my dad and stepmum again and it’s a living nightmare.” You don’t want to exaggerate or sound like too much of a cliche, but your stepmother is one of the meanest people you have ever encountered. You could understand it to some extent, as she has two young children and you aren’t the greatest of influences. You call these siblings stepfuck and stepcunt respectively, case in point. “Well, I can sympathize with that. But at least yours is a stepmum, they’re, like, inherently kinda hot, amirite?” You glare at him and begin to understand some of Kelly’s annoyance. He redirects, turning his attention to Simon, who is now painting his bench all alone after Gary’s outburst. “What about you, weird kid? Don’t take this the wrong way or anything, but you look like a panty-sniffer.” He holds his hands up beside his face, mocking a disgusting sniff of some invisible panties. “I’m not a panty-sniffer,” he responds. “I’m not a pervert.” He tries to return to painting the bench, but Nathan begins walking towards him, pretending to jack off with his paintbrush still in his hand, grunting disgustingly. You sigh and roll your eyes, glancing at Kelly. He could be funny, sure, but you were quickly learning about his tendency to take things too far. Kelly shrugs at you. “I tried to burn someone’s house down,” Simon blurts out to get Nathan to stop. Everyone who’d heard snapped to attention, as arson seems considerably more serious than vandalism or a few punches. “Fire?” Nathan laughs and walks back. Kelly looks up at him, “What did you do?” You were still curious about the fire and arson, but you let the conversation move on regardless. “Me? I was done for eatin’ some pick ‘n’ mix.” “Yeah, right,” you scoff. “Bollocks,” Kelly agrees. “What is goin’ on with this weather,” Nathan muses, distracted, as thunder rolls down from overhead and you quickly noticed the growing dark storm clouds in the sky just across the lake. Huh, odd. That hadn’t been there just a few minutes ago. “How did that happen?” you hear behind you, looking around to see Tony returning, an angry look instantly plastered to his face. He points to the overturned paint can, part of Gary’s carnage, and holds his arms up in exasperation. “I mean, you’ve been here five minutes. It’s painting benches. How’d you screw that up? You tell me, because I’ve got no idea.” From out of nowhere, a giant white ball of something smashes down on the car behind Tony, completely caving in the roof and sending the car alarm blaring. Shocked, you jump back and duck amid the various screams and cries of “What the hell was that?” and “Oh, Jesus!” Nathan’s smug grin immediately falls and transforms into fear and wonderment. Alisha shrieks, crying out in a warbling tone, “What’s goin’ on?” Tony turns around slowly in disbelief and gasps, “That’s my car!” “Oh, fuck,” you mutter under your breath. But Nathan isn’t taking it as seriously. “Classic,” he chuckles, thinking it to be some sort of prank. But then another thing falls from the sky into the lake behind you, whizzing past your heads and spraying you, Nathan, and Kelly in an onslaught of lake-water. “Okay, so I’m a little bit freaked out!” he admits. “No fucking shit!” you agree. “What is that?” Alisha asks, turning your attention to the storm Nathan had pointed out just moments ago. It had grown, somehow, turning dark and dangerous as it travels at an unnervingly fast pace towards your group. Simon holds his phone up to film the storm and its effects just as another ball crashes into the dumpster beside him, knocking over the heavy, metal container and spewing ice at him as he ducks and runs from it. More and more ice falls from the sky, huge blocks larger than your head, and you don’t want to think of what could happen if one of them hit you. “Right, let’s get everyone inside,” Tony instructs as more and more of them fall all around you. “Move! Move! Run!” You sprint back to the community center at top speed, holding your head as ice shards rain down on you, pelting and stinging your face and arms. Your heart practically beats out of your chest. One ball of ice pummels into the sidewalk in front of you, breaking a concrete tile. Another falls into a phonebooth, and the glass shatters to the ground around your feet. The storm seems to get thicker as you near the center, and your hair is plastered to your face from the mixture of sweat and water that you were drenched in. You could barely hear Tony yell “Keep going!” over the crashes and booms that fill your ears as you run for your life. Curtis reaches the door first, pulling on the handles and banging on the glass before stepping back and yelling over the din to Tony, “It’s locked! Open it!” Tony groans, “Come on…” and fumbles with the keys. You throw yourself against the wall, as far away as possible from the mega hail storm, and scream, “Just fuckin’ unlock it!” “What is happening?” Kelly shrieks as another massive ball of ice falls onto the pavement beside her. “Open the door, come on!” Nathan yells as Tony grows increasingly frustrated. “I’m finding the right key!” he bellows back “Open the door!” Curtis yells again, and Alisha agreed. “Open the fucking door!” Tony whips around in a burst of anger, “Don’t speak to me like that!” You were about to berate him for his poor priorities when a bright white burst of cold lightning cracks in front of you and sends you flying backward in a chorus of screams. Time slows as you fly through the air and the electricity transforms from a chilling shock to a burning flare, searing and snaking through you as you soar and tumble backward onto the hard pavement. You hit the ground with a sickening thud, from which groans and cries of pain follow. A few remaining snowballs hit the ground around you, but the storm appears to have passed. “I feel really weird,” you hear Kelly say. Your vision is still black, which has you worried until you realize it’s only because your eyes are still closed. You open them and sit up, rubbing the back of your head, which is still screaming in pain. “That’ll be the lightning,” Curtis says to try and explain what just happened. “We should be dead,” Simon points out. “Well, that’s comforting,” you snap back. “A little reassurance might be nice, you know,” Nathan agrees, instead directing his comment to Tony, who is sprawled before the door of the center and has just started to sit up. “‘You’re fine!’ ‘Looking good!’” he elaborates. “Wanker…” Tony groans, pushing himself up onto his elbows. “Did he just call me a wanker?” Nathan asks, indignantly glancing at you and everyone else. He snaps his fingers at Tony, “Hey? Hello?” You see a quick look of anger flash across Tony’s face before he grumbles, “Is everyone alright?” “We could have died, you dick,” Alisha adds. “Are you alright?” Kelly asks tentatively as Tony shakes his head and coughs out a growl. “You’re actin’ like a freak.” He ignores her, “Maybe we should call it a day.” -- Tony finally manages to unlock the door, and you return to the locker rooms to gather your things. You feel like you should be annoyed, leaving early only means you’ll have to spend another day here, but you are too exhausted to feel anything. That was probably the closest you’d ever been to death. You can still feel your heart beating, a deep, steady drumbeat, and your lungs ache from the running and adrenaline. Beside you, Nathan closes his locker and leans against it before turning to you, “Do you think we’ll stick together now, bonded by our shared experiences?” “Dunno. I’d rather spend as little time here as possible,” you explain, closing your locker and stepping away to put on your hoodie. “Oh, you’re one of those types, are you?” Nathan smiles. “What type?” You glare at him. “The I’m-too-cool-for-this type.” “No, that’s Curtis,” you quip, knowing that he’d already left the room. “I just happen to not like community service.” Or any of these morons, all the other girls are total slags. “Hey!” Kelly snaps, swinging around to glare at you suddenly. “Oookay?” You turn away awkwardly and leave, you can’t imagine anything you’d said having offended her. Maybe she just really loves community service or something, but that is decidedly not the impression you’ve gotten from her so far. You walk out to the waiting area by the vending machines, where you find Curtis and Simon standing around in heavy silence. Nathan follows after you moments later. “Do we just go, then?” Curtis asks, clearly annoyed. “Where’s the probation worker?” “I think there’s something wrong with him,” Simon speaks up. “It’s like he was having a spasm.” “He was probably just faking it, trying to get some compensation. Cheap bastard,” Nathan scoffs. “I don’t think he was faking it,” Simon insists, looking back down at his phone. “And you know all about being… mental.” Nathan takes a few steps forward as he talks, leering at Simon and lowering his voice. Then he pretends to convulse and yells “Wanker!” You punch him in the shoulder. “Ow, what the hell was that for?” He sticks his head out at you almost comically. You stick your head out back at him. “Stop being such a prick, he might have a point.” Alisha walks in, already looking bored. “Are we waiting for something?” “Probation worker,” Curtis explains. She scrunches up her face in disgust. “I’m not hanging around for that dickhead.” She turns on her heel and leaves, which everyone else seems to take as their cue to leave as well. You can’t be bothered to be the only one waiting around, so you follow suit. Once outside, everyone pretty much goes their separate ways. Nathan, however, trots after you. “What’re you doin’?” You ask. “Thought you looked a little lonely, and, well, I’d like to recommend my own company as recompense.” He motions to himself like he’s all that, which honestly has you snorting to hold back your laughter. “You can’t be serious.” You raise your eyebrows. “Fine, I happen to live along this way, alright? I’m Nathan, by the way.” “Y/n.” You smile at him. “And I’ll have you know that to date, I haven’t had a single complaint.” He says it like you should be impressed or something. “Can’t have complaints if you haven’t been with anybody,” you joke, smirking. His jaw drops in mock surprise, “Oy! I have, too!” He keeps trying to impress upon you the depth of his sexual prowess, offering many stories as proof, all of which have you in stitches. He peels off when you were about halfway home. You say your goodbyes and wave as he walks away, grateful for the company. A few houses down from your own, though, you stop walking, contemplating what to do next. Home doesn’t seem like a particularly fun place to be right now, but it’s not like you have anywhere else to go. It’s still the early afternoon, so it would probably be only your stepmum at home, with your dad at work and your step siblings at school. It’s practically a worst-case scenario, as you doubt she would believe that they let you go early. You wish this day had gone differently. As you’re musing and trying to work up the courage to walk the thirty or so meters left to your front door, the skies begin to darken. You look up to see if a cloud had rolled in overhead, not exactly trusting the weather as of late, but as soon as you do so, it disappears and the sky goes back to normal. You think nothing of it, which is probably a poor choice on your part, but you are too burned out to care. You finally reach the front door, closing it gingerly behind you, but to no avail. “Y/n? Is that you?” You hear from the other room. “Yup.” You stand in the doorway to the kitchen, knowing you need to address this, but desperately wanting to leave. “They let us go early today.” She eyes you quizzically, “Really?” Now here’s the thing, the truth isn’t even remotely believable– There was a freak hail storm and everyone in our group got hit by lightning or something but now we’re all okay and our probation officer did too, he let us go early and then disappeared– so you have to lie. “Yeah, ‘cuz it’s the first day. They mostly showed us the ropes, got us started on something, and then let us go.” You wait, holding your breath. “Oh.” She looks disappointed. “I thought you’d be out today.” “Yeah, well I did, too,” you mumble as you walk away, not really caring whether or not she heard. “What’d you say?!” she calls after you. “Nothing!” you yell back as you walk as quickly as possible to your room. Once inside, you sigh and collapse onto your bed. You feel like a teenager again and it’s horrible, being forced to be somewhere where you’re treated like immature crap every day, living at home again, constantly having a row with your stepmum. You hope, but doubt, that the next day will be better.

#misfits #misfits tv #nathan #nathan misfits #nathan young #nathan young x reader #nathan young misfits #nathan young imagine

92 notes · View notes

helloteeceeblog · 3 years

Text

I wrote this pastiche years ago based on the first issue of Grant Morrison’s comic ANNIHILATOR and like, might as well post it?

ANNIHILATOR

Fitz Kreiner pulled another cigarette from his pocket. It was in his mouth and lit before he realized he hadn't finished the last one. Or the one before that.

FADE IN:

SPACE. THE VAST PANORAMA OF THE GALAXY.

Stars wheel through the spiral of the Milky Way as the camera moves toward the centre, the supermassive black hole at the nexus of space and time.

A blue box spins through the void. Behind it, a grey cylinder, menacing, spikey. They crash together, spikes piercing the blue-painted wood of the first box.

INT. THE TARDIS.

Reimagined from the classic series. It's like a gothic cathedral rebuilt by Jules Verne and H.G. Wells.

THE DOCTOR as portrayed by Sylvester McCoy. His question mark cardigan has been replaced with a more formal suit. His hair is longer, he looks worn and haunted. He runs through the corridors of the TARDIS, pursued by COMMANDER MAXIL. This is a new regeneration, no longer performed by Colin Baker. Maxil's features are obscured beneath the shadows of his helm. He carries a Time Lord gun, a STASER.

MAXIL Doctor! You have been tried and found guilty! This time justice WILL be properly executed in the name of the Time Lords!

DOCTOR Stuff and nonsense! The Time Lords are corrupt and decadent. The Time War has turned them into monsters.

The Doctor stops. They wrestle, and the Doctor gains control of the staser. Coldly, he fires it directly at Maxil's head. Maxil's head jerks back. He grunts in pain and falls backwards into an end table decorated with a vase full of flowers. Blossoms and petals erupt into the air.

DOCTOR I am the Doctor. I am Ka Faraq Gatri. I am the one who stops monsters.

FADE OUT.

"Are you listening, Fitz?" Fitz's agent, Anji Kapoor, was looking impatient. Better nod.

Fitz nodded.

"You promised me a screenplay. This is fifty pages of act one," said Anji. "I need more than this. If you don't deliver, Fitz, Michael Brookhaven gives the gig to someone else. Someone younger."

"I've almost got it," said Fitz, adding another cigarette to the burning mess. "I just need a little more time."

"It's been two years since your last movie," said Anji. "Five years since The Taint. You're not Hollywood's enfant terrible anymore. Brookhaven wants to turn this Doctor Who pilot into a series. You nail this, you still have a career."

"I'll get it for you," said Fitz, lighting another cig.

"When?"

"Monday," said Fitz. "I'll have it for you by Monday."

****

Fitz dropped a cigarette down the sinkhole. It continued to glow as it spiralled down into the darkness, growing smaller and smaller. There was no sign of it hitting bottom.

"Are you sure about this?" asked the realtor. "We can look at other houses in your price range."

"I like this one," said Fitz. He dropped another cigarette into the hole, just in case the laws of physics had changed. "It fits my mood."

"There's a literal sinkhole in the living room," said the realtor, as if this wasn't obvious. "The whole place might collapse at any moment."

"Like I said," said Fitz. "I'm a writer. I'm looking for inspiration."

"Well! That does explain why you'd want to live in a crumbling deathtrap. Writers are eccentric." The realtor nodded sagely. "I write a little myself. Would I know any of your work?"

"Have you seen a film called Interference? Or The Taint?"

"The Taint? With Tom Cruise, right?"

"That's the one," said Fitz.

"That was out a long time ago."

"A long time," said Fitz. "Yeah."

"What's your new film about?"

"It's a reboot of the classic British science fiction series, Doctor Who."

"Never heard of it," said the realtor.

****

Naked bodies writhed on the floor around the sinkhole. This was a *proper* orgy. Boys, girls. Fitz didn't care. They were there for atmosphere.

"Stop talking to me," Fitz said to one of them. "I'm trying to write."

FADE IN:

SHADA. THE PRISON OF THE TIME LORDS.

Darkness. Only the centre of the room is lit. The DOCTOR, as portrayed by Paul McGann, is strapped to a table surrounded by Time Lords in dark, chitinous armor.

INQUISITOR DARKEL Confess, Doctor! Confess your crimes!

DOCTOR I confess! I'm criminally handsome. And brilliant.

INQUISITOR DARKEL Tell us about the girl, Doctor. Tell us about Peri Brown.

DOCTOR That didn't happen! That was a lie! Your lie!

DARKEL It did happen, Doctor. Now you will be imprisoned here with her, as a reminder of what you've done. Forever.

The background darkness is lifted. A coffin-like structure behind the Doctor is revealed. Within it is the frozen body of PERI BROWN, played by Nicola Bryant.

DARKEL She was your companion, Doctor. You killed her. You removed her brain. How do you sleep?

DOCTOR As seldom as possible. I usually wait for a Cyberman or one of you lot to knock me out. But I didn't do this.

DARKEL You did. Confess!

DOCTOR You really think you've caught me? I'm insulted.

DARKEL What do you mean?

DOCTOR The flowers in the TARDIS. You'll find they contain a rare pollen dangerous even to a Time Lord metabolism. I've been immune, of course, since my fourth regeneration, but you lot should find yourselves falling into a coma very soon.

The TIME LORDS begin groaning and falling to your knees.

DOCTOR And I slipped out of my bonds forty minutes ago.

He stands up.

DOCTOR Now that the monsters are dealt with, it's time for my real work. I, the Doctor, vow to reverse the order of creation. And find a cure for death!

Fitz blinked slowly at his scene. The orgy was still going on in a desultory sort of way. He groped for another cigarette, finding only empty packs.

"A cure for death," said Fitz. "I'm a genius."

He banged his head against the screen.

"This is rubbish. Absolute rubbish."

****

"This is rubbish," said Anji.

"I know," said Fitz.

"You said you'd get me something by Monday."

"This is something," said Fitz.

"This is incoherent at best. How stoned were you when you wrote this?"

"Ran out of cigarettes," said Fitz.

"You look a mess. When was the last time you slept?"

"As seldom as possible."

"You look like someone punched you in the face for being an asshole," said Anji. "Is your nose bleeding?"

Fitz slowly tumbled from his chair, landing on his face.

"Fitz? Fitz?"

****

Fitz woke in a hospital bed.

"You don't remember how you got here?" asked the doctor. A doctor. Not the fictional character Fitz was writing about. That would be stupid.

"I don't remember anything," said Fitz. Senselessly, he groped automatically for a cigarette, knowing full well there wouldn't be one in a hospital.

"You have an inoperable brain tumor, Mr Kreiner," said the doctor. A doctor.

"It's Fortune," said Fitz. "Call me Fitz Fortune."

****

The police pulled him over on the way home.

"Have you been drinking, Mr Kreiner?"

"I have a bloody brain tumor," said Fitz. "Just give me a ticket. Give me all the tickets."

"We'll take care of this, officers," said a new voice. "FBI."

Bright light shone in Fitz's car window. Men in suits and dark glasses. "Does the name 'the Doctor' mean anything to you, Mr Kreiner?"

"I've just been to the doctor," said Fitz. "I have a brain tumor."

"You've been to a doctor. Have you been in contact with an individual answering only to the name 'the Doctor?'"

"Is this a joke? The Doctor is the lead character in my screenplay."

"He's a fugitive. If he tries to make contact with you, let us know. My fiance loved 'Interference," by the way."

Fitz grunted. He'd had enough of this nonsense. He'd had enough of everything.

When he got home, he took a long drink. Whiskey. Still out of cigarettes. Fuck. He found a gun in his desk drawer and raised it to his chin.

"Fitz Kreiner." A stranger's voice. Plummy, amused. Fitz had never heard it before, except in his head. When he was writing his screenplay.

Fitz opened his eyes. The stranger was wearing a green velvet jacket. A cravat. His hair was long, auburn. His eyes were blue. His face was handsome, aristocratic. Somehow not human.

"You called me, Fitz. So here I am. I'm the Doctor, Fitz. How can we help each other?"

#fitz kreiner #seventh doctor #eighth doctor #faction paradox #eighth doctor adventures #edas #doctor who

15 notes · View notes

psychopersonified · 4 years

Text

Interrupted

Q’s video conference gets interrupted by a half naked man wielding a cat...

Inspired by the multitude of wonderful fanart featuring Q and Bond in front of a computer, some clothed, some not quite 😉. And also by stories of zoom call accidents.

Tags: Freshly established relationship. Breaking the news.

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

“…How much progress are we making in regards to the drag coefficient?” is the next question on Q’s mind as he reviews the R&D stage-gate checklist. Q has his attention on the tablet in front of him, marking up the design drawing with a stylus. The image is shared onscreen with the other three participants of the call.

“Wind tunnel test results are back, the best we’ve achieved so far is using V308 design, but as expected it does come with some compromise to practicality—”

At R’s sudden pause, Q looks up and turns towards the screen displaying the participants’ video feed.

“Sorry R I didn’t catch that, you might have cut out for a moment.” He adjusts the wireless earbuds in case they’ve come loose.

Jenny’s image smiles widely and the others follow suit. “Sir, did you adopt a new kitty?”

The unexpected question prompts him to look around his desk. He spies Spot lounging out of view of the webcam, by his favourite window perch having just had breakfast. Q assumes the other black and white cat, Jellicles must be somewhere under Spot’s large orange lump.

“Uh, no?” he is a little discomfited, not knowing what brought on the bizarre tangent in the discussion.

“Boss, you sure about this? He’s a big one. Might eat you out of house and home,” Nish joins in the ribbing.

“Granted he’s a silent killer. Any unwanted gifts dropped off on your carpet yet?” Jamila this time.

“What on earth are you all talking about—,“ in his own video feed minimised out of the way on the bottom right corner, Q finally catches sight of movement in the background.

The problem with open plan living Q notices for the first time, is the lack of privacy. Not an issue if you’re living alone, but when you have house guests, it makes it trickier. Q’s webcam faces the dining area where Agent 007 is currently making a spectacle of himself. His shirtless muscular back is half turned to them. The light grey sweatpants he is wearing slung dangerously low on his hips - the tops of his well sculpted glutes artfully exposed.

Bond had wandered absently into the dining area, one arm cradling a restless black and white cat to his chest like a baby, but his attention is focused on the tablet held in his other hand. Jellicles is not happy at being ignored - headbutting Bond under the chin and attempting repeatedly to bop the human on the nose to get his attention.

When the agent is sufficiently annoyed, he locks eyes with the cat for a moment before tipping his head to smush his nose against cat’s forehead - which causes Jellicles to meow loudly in reply.

Q turns back to look at his monitor, all three participants on the call are staring in open-mouthed shock. He searches his desk for something to throw; a squishy stress toy in the shape of a cow would suffice. Q aims for the torso, but the toy bounces comically off Bond’s rock hard arse instead.

That catches Bond’s attention and he turns around - Q regrets not thinking this one through. He and his little audience are now treated to the frontal view, which is arguably even more distracting. The agent’s golden tan glows in the morning light - accentuating the definition of his well developed pectorals all the way to the rippling planes of the chiseled abdominals and the blonde trail of hair peeking out of the waistband. Further below, the soft cotton blend material of the sweatpants does little to hide the endowments underneath.

Bond raises a quizzical eyebrow at him. He’d put the tablet down and caught one of the cat’s paws in his hand in the interim - to stop it from trying to touch his nose and was kissing each little toe-bean before the interruption. Bond is in a fantastic mood this morning and Jellicles must adore him enough to allow such manhandling.

Q scowls at him and mouths ‘I’m on a call’ while using a hand to gesture at his monitor and the webcam. Bond’s expression turns apologetically wide-eyed for a second in acknowledgment of his little gaffe. But in the next moment, he appears to brush it off -hanged for a sheep as a lamb-.

Instead of ducking out of view, he takes four purposeful strides towards Q’s desk, the cat still in his arms. Q can’t decide if disabling his video would cause more suspicion or if they should just cease with the charade - somehow ‘he’s just a friend who sleeps over and cuddles my cats’ defence doesn’t quite stack up at this point.

Behind him now and without a trace of shame, Bond bends over a shoulder to wink at the three familiar faces in the monitor. Q resists the urge to slap the man away, opting instead to glower at him. The agent senses a rebuke forthcoming, so preemptively uses the cat as a shield. He holds the black and white cat up to the webcam, then pushes the cat in front of Q’s face - Jellicles doesn’t disappoint, immediately latching on and playfully chewing on Q’s nose.

“Ah! James!” Q tries to flinch away. The assault is over in seconds when Bond pulls the cat away but then unexpectedly returns to peck Q on the corner of his mouth before he can even protest. When Bond straightens again, the expansive view of naked chest and abs fills up most of the right side of Q’s video feed.

Q has to half turn and physically nudge the agent away with a splayed hand against warm hard muscle. The touch a searing reminder of their activities the night before. Bond is immovable when he doesn’t want to be moved, but he relents after a second or two. His parting gift, was to dip down and nuzzle Q in the hair, using the misdirection to hook a finger around the collar of Q’s jumper, exposing the top of a well bruised collarbone. The hand then slips to caress a long line down his chest to his stomach.

“James! Will you stop it!” Q hisses. His next reaction is to stab the bastard in the side with the blunt tip of the tablet stylus to salvage his ruined modesty. The man is a menace!

The bloody peacock doesn’t even have the decency to retreat out of camera view after that, instead he claims a seat in the dinning area, beaming with a satisfied smile. The cat now balanced on his stomach and chest, he moves another chair around so he can prop his legs on it and stretch out, putting himself on blatant display. An artist would beg to paint such a perfect tableau. Q wants to taser the smile off his face.

Q clears his throat, not daring to look directly at his colleagues - too flustered to offer an explanation as to why 007 was molesting him in his home. So he tries ineffectively for the pretend-it-didnt-happen route, “Um… Right. Where were we? Jenny, the wind tunnel results?....”

Jamila blinks furiously. Nish makes a hoarse croaking, “Whaaaa…..” like air escaping his lungs.

And R… well R just says, “Sir, I think I speak for everyone here that we’re traumatised by what we just saw, bloody traumatised. We don’t think we can continue with today’s discussion until a satisfactory explanation has been provided...” R forces Q into a corner. Two other heads nod their support for Jenny’s statement. None of them appear disapproving - but it is guaranteed they are going to take the mickey out of him.

There is no way he is going to spill tea with Bond still within earshot. The agent’s ego is unmanageable as it is. “If I promise to reveal all on Monday, can we please get on with this?” Q tries to make his whisper sound imperious to no avail - a half naked man lounging in the background tends to undermine one’s authority.

“Health & Safety would disagree. It’s an occupational hazard you know, to be distracted around dangerous lab equipment,” Jamila points out. The others agree. Mutiny from his top three.

“How is my personal life -your- distraction?”

“When there is a not inconsiderable pot waiting to be distributed. Come on boss, there’s still time for me to collect my winnings if things go my way,” Nish begs while consulting his phone for the records.

“So… he’s -James- now is he? Is this a one time slumber party or an extended sleepover?” R powers through heedless.

Q considers his answer, he is marginally aware of the betting pool around the stupid game ‘Fluster the Quartermaster’ and its various derivative odds regarding which agent, the timeline, where, method of burn etc. - but he doesn’t want to know the specifics as he wants to maintain plausible deniability should it implode in everyone’s faces.

Bond is still playing with he cat in the background, trying to teach it commands. Q doesn’t want to say it out loud, so he types it into the group chat on the side of the screen:

::We’re moving his things over later today.::

“Called it!” Jenny slams a hand on the table and punches the air in victory. Oh she knew it! Q taking the Friday off (or any day off for that matter) that had nothing to do with his cats was enough cause for intrigue.

But after the suspiciously expensive gift in the form of the red Hyundai a few months ago, it was just a matter of time. It was not the cost that was the issue, Bond’s wardrobe of bespoke suits probably cost more than the car several times over - it was the sentiment behind it that gave Jenny the courage to place a sizeable bet on them taking the next step towards cohabitation. The car, she read correctly in Bond’s weird wooing language was tantamount to an engagement ring.

Nish and the others weren’t as good as reading signs, so majority of the odds were still focused around the early stages “NO! What? Wait… When did this happen? What about first date? First snog? First shag?” Nish scrolls furiously through his phone.

The bets have taken a far more intrusive route than Q had ever expected. “Well I’m sorry my personal life does not follow the path of standard operating procedure… now can we -please- move on?” He’s acutely aware that he is blushing bright pink from head to toe.

Jenny shakes her head, the only person that would dare to override him, “Q, you took the day off - so take the day off. The prototype can wait. No emergencies at the moment, the castle is still standing. We’ll call if something pops up. Now bugger off and enjoy your day with -James-!”

*Sigh* Q rubs his temples and gives in reluctantly, “Fine! Yes, alright…” . He knows when something is a lost cause and the news is likely to cause a buzz in Q-Branch that would last the whole weekend - there goes department productivity. He’d hoped to come up with a less sensational way of disseminating the news. He expects massive ribbing on Monday.

“Oh! Permission to inform Ms Moneypenny about the change in status?” Jenny asks. The girls are having drinks tonight and it would be hell trying to conceal anything from Eve.

“No no! I’ll… inform her myself... and please try to keep this within Q-Branch, for now?” Eve would find seven ways of killing him if she had to find out from someone else. She’d already ripped into him, calling him a bloody clueless twit when she’d found out about the car Bond bought him as a ‘birthday gift’. As cars go, it was a cheap one - but Bond’s logic to get him to accept it was the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to him.

When they’ve all signed off, Q shuts down the computer and lets himself be drawn back into the life inside his flat. Balanced on Bond’s stomach, Jellicles has miraculously learned how to give high-fives on command.

“Get dressed please. I’d like breakfast before we head over to your place.” Q tell him as he passes behind the agent. He places a hand on James’ shoulder, causing the agent to tip his head back. Q drops a kiss on his forehead.

“By the way, have you told Eve about… this?” Q asks as he combs his fingernails across Bond’s scalp.

“Mmm… Not yet. Was thinking of letting her know on Monday.” Bond mutters, eyes closed. The relaxed blissed out look on his face was worth enduring a million papercuts.

“Well, that’ll be too late. Since you’ve gone and announced it with as much discretion as you conduct your missions…,” Q tugs firmly at Bond’s ears as reprimand, ”…the whole of Q-Branch will know before morning tea. Which means Eve will find out by lunch.”

Just then Q’s phone on the dinning table buzzes with an incoming call. They both pause to stare at the screen. Caller ID displays ::Moneypenny:: ominously.

“I’ll get dressed. You tell her… She called me a dithering halfwit just last week.” Bond straightens before bolting for the bedroom.

“Coward!” Q yells at him. He steels himself to answer the phone. When he does, he all but squeaks, “Hello Eve?—“

——— FIN————

Notes: The mention about the car gift is from another fic of mine and can be found here - Car troubles and Not Quite Dates.

If you liked this fic, there’s more like it on the blog. Enjoy!

#00Q #ooQ #Q #Quartermaster #00qfic #00q fanfiction

86 notes · View notes