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thedvilsinthedetails · 7 months

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rosekiller band au microfic pt2

yayyy part 2 is here! (Again if there’s any typos lmk ty)

(also yeah I changed their ages slightly, the skittles r now 23 not 25 what r u gonna do about it?)

anywayssss here’s the ppl that asked to be tagged/said they wanted more so im tagging them anyway (sorry if u didn’t want that): @always-reading @lady-stardust-incarnate @lulublack90 @idk-what-to-put-here-123 @weirdtinkerbellversion @depressedtheatrekiddo @blu3stars @nikholascrow @good-oldfashioned-lover-girl @picklerab23

(As always if u wanna be tagged or not tagged pls lmk I won’t mind at all <3)

Link to Part One

Link to Next Part

***

Evan woke up the next morning to the harsh bleep of his phone that always managed to elicit pure terror in his body. He groaned and rolled out of bed. He’d forgotten to turn off the alarm and of course he was awake at six in the fucking morning on a Saturday.

He threw on a dressing gown over his tank top and plaid pyjama bottoms, slipped into his fluffy slippers and trudged to the kitchen for some coffee.

Once he got to the kitchen he saw Dorcas was already sat at the little island she passed him a warm cup of coffee as soon as he sat down. Dorcas had always been the earliest riser of the band, always eager to get ready quickly and get the hell out of the house, he supposed that’s what growing up as the eldest sister to four brothers did to you.

“Heard your alarm go off, figured you’d forgot to turn it off.”

“Dorcas you lifesaver. And I mean seriously a lifesaver, I might have murdered someone without this coffee.”

Dorcas laughed.

“Who?”

Evan rubbed his eyes.

“Barty probably. He’s fucking annoying.”

“Any excuse to get up close to him then more like.”

Evan’s head snapped up.

“What?”

Dorcas rolled her eyes.

“Please you’re shit at hiding it.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking ‘bout Cas.”

Evan mumbled, taking a long drink from his mug.

“Please, save the crap. If you don’t have a crush on him, why do you get so worked up by people calling you a couple. It consumes your every waking thought, now why is that? Tell me.”

“Ughhh I don’t want to think about it.”

He groaned and stared into the brown murky depths of the mug he was cradling close to him.

Dorcas softened.

“Look, Marls and Barty are really close, our next tour stop is London which means she’ll obviously drop by rehearsals. I can get her to ask him if he-“

“He doesn’t.”

Evan ran his thumb over a tiny chip in the ceramic. It was a mug Barty had painted around four years ago, Dora had decided for her sixteenth she wanted to go to a pottery painting place like when they were little. Barty was- honestly pretty shit at painting. The background was covered in vast uneven strokes of black. He’d tried to paint a white ferret on it - ‘Ev this one is for you, if you were any animal I’d say you’d be a ferret.’ - thing is it looked more like a snake with legs that was also, well, a zombie. It was Evan’s most prized possession. He’d be taking it to the grave. He turned it to look inside the handle. Barty had been too lazy to paint that part so instead he’d just written crudely with the brush - ‘B + E forever bitches!’. His eyes crinkled fondly as he read it.

“I just need to get over it.”

His expression hardened and he looked up at Dorcas again.

“Get over what?”

They both turned to find Barty in the doorway. His hair was sticking up in all directions. Fuzzy spikes of green and black. He stretched his arms all the way up as he yawned, flexing his wrist so his ‘SKITTLES’ tattoo was on full display. He had one of Evan’s jumpers on over his pyjama top. Evan really wanted to reach out and hold. Why’d he have to go and look so soft? Wasn’t fucking fair.

“Nothing Jr.”

Barty nodded in response as he padded over and sat himself in the chair next to Evan.

“Why’re you even awake?”

Dorcas asked.

Barty dropped his head down onto the island counter dramatically.

“Forgot to turn off my alarm.”

Dorcas laughed out loud, fully threw her head back and everything.

“Two birds of a fucking stupid feather you two are.”

She got up and put her mug in the sink before heading out of the kitchen. Barty turned his head up to look at Evan as soon as she was gone.

“You don’t have to tell me anything Evan, but if you want to you can. You know that right?”

Barty lifted his head and propped it up on his hand as Evan nodded.

“Yeah. Yeah I know Barty.”

“Good.”

Barty shuffled his chair closer before dropping his head onto Evan’s shoulder and falling quiet. It was instinctual, the way Evan brought his arms up around him. After a few moments he looked down though, Barty was suspiciously silent.

“Bee?”

He whispered.

“M’awake. You’re just comfy Ev. You’re really good at hugs.”

Might be ‘cause I was built to hold you.

Damn that’s a fucking stupid thing to say. Fuck I’ve turned into Reg whenever he’s around James.

Yeah Evan needed to get over this like fucking yesterday.

•••

Barty breathed in deeply, face buried in the crux of Evan’s neck. He couldn’t help it really. Evan smelled like home. Probably a creepy thing to say, oh well wasn’t like he said it out loud. Evan was home though, plain and simple.

He didn’t want to move, probably ever. Still eventually as the rest of the group came pattering into the kitchen and things got livelier he had to shift away.

•••

They got on the train at noon, ready to head to London. Evan took the window seat watching as the city turned to rolling hills turned to city again. Barty kept sneaking glances over at him, wasn’t really sure what he was looking for honestly but-

“What?”

Evan asked finally, tone irritated.

“Nothing, just bored.”

“Oh um-“

Evan glanced around, he and Barty were in a two seater while the rest of the band sat around the table in front of them, chatting animatedly.

“S’fine Ev, not anything you can do about it, I’m gonna be bored till we get off this bloody train. Fucking buzzing.”

“Excited for tomorrow then yeah?”

Barty turned to him with shining eyes.

“D’you remember when we were eighteen? First time at the O2 for a concert? Fuck d’you remember seeing it like that, covered in all the lights ‘n shit. Eventim Apollo doesn’t even compare.”

Evan chuckled. They’d gone to the O2 for the first time June 2019 to see a concert when Evan was still in his backstreet boys phase, something no one was allowed to talk about now under any circumstances.

“D’you remember what you said to me?”

•••

“Look at that stage Ev. Imagine playing there. For all these people.”

Evan turned to Barty and ruffled his hair.

“One day Bee, we’ll be playing here. I promise you yeah? We’ll be playing here and it’ll all the fucking sold out.”

“You think?”

•••

“Yeah. Yeah I do.”

***

AHHH I HOPE U LIKED ITTTT (idk when part 3 will be coming but hopefully soon <333333)

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freesia-writes · 5 months

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Chapter 2: School

Enjoy a riveting tale of romance, suspense, adventure, and self-discovery as Hunter finds his path after the events of TBB. Rated PG-13 for some mild suspense, suggestive talk, alcohol and drug use, and adult themes. Banner and dividers by @pinkiemme ~ Master List ~ Previous Chapter

Chapter 2: School (Word Count: 2.7k)

Hunter winced, one hand on his shoulder as he moved his arm in a circle, trying to work out the sore spot from the morning’s wrestle with an angry bruallki that had apparently only feigned death from his shot. He’d had time to hunt, spend a few hours in his shop, and get cleaned up before heading up the hill to Omega’s school. It was a plain rectangular building on top of a grassy plain that housed students from the youngest grade levels up to young adults within its brick walls, but the island wasn’t too populated so the classes usually consisted of about 10 to 15 students each. He opened the door to the office, shifting his bag on his other shoulder as the attendance clerk looked up at him brightly.

After checking in, Hunter was free to walk the halls in search of Omega, who was late in meeting him at their usual spot in front of the school. It wasn’t unheard of — she was usually either caught up in conversation with one of the staff members she’d taken a liking to or lost in thought from diving into one of her assignments as soon as she could. True to form, Hunter soon found her in the back of the administrative wing, in a little corner office that was full of dark wooden furniture. There were a few small, warm lamps, and there was Omega, relaxing in a cozy chair in front of a plain desk with a chiseled nameplate sitting on its corner: Lyra Vetana, Records Clerk.

The woman behind the desk looked to be a bit older than him, or what Hunter assumed it looked like for nat-borns, with long brown hair that was mostly straight, a somewhat angular jaw, and smile lines around her mouth and eyes. She was currently nodding slowly at whatever Omega was sharing, and as Hunter approached, he caught her attention, her gaze soon followed by Omega’s, who piped up immediately.

“Oh hey Hunter! Sorry I’m late. Lyra was just sharing about what past students have done during their apprenticeship year. She’s got a bunch of great ideas!”

“Yeah?” Hunter answered, shifting his focus to Lyra, who shook her head with a small smile.

“Just what the kids have come up with,” she corrected, straightening a random pile of papers off to the side. “But I apologize for holding you up.” Her voice was smooth, with just a little bit of husky texture that made it imperfectly pleasant, and it matched her humble and unassuming demeanor. Hunter could see why Omega appreciated her company; she had a steady, soothing presence, although it seemed somewhat flat.

“It’s alright, just got some work to do before dinner,” Omega reassured her, rising to her feet and pulling her backpack out of the chair beside her. “Which I bet is steak again, right?” She aimed the question at Hunter, who exhaled through his nose as he tilted his head at her.

“Look, you should be happy that I can cook anything at all, you know…”

“I’m just kidding,” Omega said, patting his shoulder as though she were the parent. “You’re doing great, and you’ve come so far!” Hunter resisted the urge to roll his eyes, although her words carried some weight, and he caught what looked like a condescending smile on Lyra’s face.

“I make salad too…” he grumbled, and Lyra turned a laugh into a cough so quickly it made him second guess what he’d heard, squinting at her as she turned to move that same stack of papers all of a sudden.

“Shoot! I need my interview journal; I left it in my locker. Be right back, and then we can go!” Omega announced, trotting out the door to leave Hunter standing awkwardly in front of where Lyra was seated at her desk. But then he realized a potential solution to an argument he’d had that morning with Omega.

“Hey, quick question…” he began, looking over his shoulder before dropping into one of the chairs in front of Lyra’s desk. “I… ah… Omega’s very special, and… I know it’s real safe here and all, but… We’re still new, and I just want to make sure… she’s alright… you know. And I know she comes to talk to you often, and you have been here at the school for a while…” He rummaged in his small sling bag for a moment, finding it hard to meet Lyra’s curious gaze.

He found what he was looking for and held it up for her to see. It looked like it could have been a large button from a piece of clothing, but upon closer inspection one could see that it was a different kind of button — a small metal cylinder that could be flipped open with a raised round part to press inside. “Would you do me a favor and hang onto this? It’s… it’s an emergency beacon, and if anything ever happens, you press it and we can be here immediately. Omega refused to keep it on her, but… I just…”

Lyra regarded it, and him, with an unreadable expression, brow furrowing for a moment before relaxing. She held out her hand, inviting Hunter to give it to her, but he paused.

“Look, I know it seems paranoid, or overly protective, but there’s a lot that I just can’t explain, and I know you’ll probably never have to use it, but it would just make me feel better if—“

“I get it,” Lyra interrupted reassuringly, giving him a small, serious nod as she beckoned for him to place it in her palm. He felt a disproportionate cascade of relief; maybe he’d built this up more than necessary in his head, but he appreciated knowing there were extra safety measures in place. “I don’t see her all the time, but if there’s ever an emergency, I’ll let you and her mom know.”

“No mom,” Hunter shook his head, “Just me.”

“Oh, sorry— you said ‘we’ could be here right away, so I just thought—“

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “Me and our brothers.”

“Got it,” Lyra said quietly, closing her fingers around both the button and a million unasked questions.

“Thanks,” Hunter said, nodding in finality before rising to his feet. He leaned out the doorway, peering down the hall and still finding no sign of Omega, then returned to his post just inside the door, shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other. He was still getting used to the social situations outside of war, and truth be told, he sometimes missed the rushed simplicity of mission after life-threatening mission. Casting a glance back to Lyra, he was somewhat relieved to find that she’d pulled some other files out of a folder and was tapping away at her keyboard. He couldn’t get a read on her… was she dismissive? Standoffish? Content? Or just didn’t feel the need to force conversation?

“So ah, what is it you do here again?” he asked, the words flowing without his permission. He cringed inwardly, hating the complexity of civilian life at times, but Lyra paused her typing and met his gaze with a patient warmth that lessened his anxious overthinking.

“I’m a records clerk, which means I have the great esteem and honor of filing away every transcript, work study application, apprenticeship offer, accommodations meeting notes, and so on. Basically, if it happens here, I record it here. And if people need any data from the archives, I’m the one to find it for them,” she answered, poking fun at the seeming unimportance of her job without the full cynicism of one who legitimately resented their duties.

“Sounds peaceful,” was all that Hunter could think to say, and his estimation was met with a slow nod.

“It is,” Lyra agreed, the faintest smile touching her thoughtful expression. “And you? What keeps you busy on the island?”

“I’m a hunter, ironically enough,” he answered, smirking dryly. “And a butcher. I have a meat shop down in The Cobbles,” he continued, referring to the part of town just above the beaches that was the notorious center for businesses, restaurants, galleries, and city government offices.

“Ahh,” came the enlightened realization. “Yes. I’ve heard of it from other staff members here.” Hunter wondered what else she’d heard, but judging by any response he could sense, there was nothing more to it. “Not a lot of imports on the island, so everything you sell is from here?”

“Freshly blasted daily,” Hunter said with a mock chipperness that made them both snort. There was something about her that he couldn’t quite figure out, whether she was genuinely enjoying the conversation or just tolerating it, whether she had more to say or was simply killing the time they were forced to interact. But he supposed it didn’t matter much, and as they fell silent again, Hunter could hear familiar footsteps approaching.

“Well, I appreciate you being here for Omega… and all the other kids,” he said quietly, and he caught a wistfulness on her face before it disappeared instantly. Lyra smiled and nodded demurely, brightening up when she saw Omega in the doorway.

“Ready?” the girl asked Hunter, beaming back and forth between him and Lyra.

“Ready,” he echoed, giving Lyra a polite dip of the head before taking his leave.

The house that Hunter and Omega shared was not far from Tech and Phee’s, sitting on the side of the hills that stretched up from the beaches in rugged terrain peppered with large boulders and cliffs. The island had an interesting layout – large, flat beaches wrapping around the entire coast, then The Cobbles, an aptly-named cobblestoned street with storefronts spaced out neatly on both sides, punctuated by a few older residences, a small garden, and some town governance buildings. The entire island was fairly cut off from most everything else in the galaxy, with very few trade connections, resulting in a harmonious self-sufficiency where each person specialized and contributed to the overall good through commerce or direct trade. The business area was the one main street that stretched in a gentle upward slope from the beach to the cliffs, where it stopped abruptly.

The island topography continued to rise from there, slowly but steadily, with houses peppered across the hills above The Cobbles. There were trees and meadows scattered across the land, and the majority of the population lived on the western side of the island in small homes or flat, layered apartment buildings that were spread out above the business district. The apartment complexes huddled together around the Town Square, a large, open area full of string lights, street vendors, food carts, and an endless array of farmer’s markets, cultural events, musical performances, and so on. Single-family homes were spaced out more along the walking paths that snaked up and down the island, nestled among trees and hills.

A few were tucked further into The Forest, which covered the eastern side of the island in a rugged, dense landscape full of trees and rivers. It was virtually unpopulated save for the houses on its western edge. Near the top of the island, above the layers of homes, lay a large, grassy meadow that stretched out in soothingly gentle slopes. A few ranches had settled around it, utilizing the perfect supply of everything they needed to raise agriculture, and off to one corner of the space sat the school. The highest point of the island was a small mountain upon which they’d built an observatory, although it was chronically out of order. Life on Xylo was a cozy, quiet way, punctuated with whatever creativity the locals could concoct. There were a few other populated islands on the planet as well, each having its own specialty and unique feel.

Hunter brushed his hands on his apron, the soothing bumps of embroidery warming his heart as he remembered Omega’s beaming face when she’d gifted it to him. It was the initial product of her first job shadow, and she’d chosen a plain gray fabric on which to hand-sew her best attempt at two large 9s in Aurebesh as well as a rudimentary copy of Hunter’s half-skull tattoo.

The meat sizzled in the pan as he turned it, spattering hot grease in response to his prodding. He’d added some herbs this time, filling the entire house with the mouthwatering scent of perfectly-balanced flavors. Omega was chopping vegetables on the wood block next to him, chattering happily about the amazing variety of local produce that was supposed to be available at the next farmer’s market.

It had been a hard decision when they settled on the island of whether to live together as they always had or to try to branch out into their own spaces. Phee had commandeered Tech into a home of their own, Echo was interested in the communal setup of one of the small neighborhoods, and Crosshair had found a peaceful home with Batcher in the same area, leaving Wrecker and Hunter staring awkwardly at each other. It had worked out quite well, however, as Hunter had found a cozy house in a small clearing surrounded by trees that also included a comically small additional unit across the tiny meadow that was a perfect fit for Wrecker in every way except his size. But the brawny clone had a knack for construction and had single-handedly remodeled the entire thing to be more suitable. The main dwelling on the property was a typical “cabin in the woods”, and with a few modifications had become a soothing place of respite for both Hunter and Omega, whose small bedrooms branched off the main room that boasted a large fireplace and plenty of wood-hewn furniture.

“This is my new favorite,” Omega said, as they dug into their dinner.

“The bacon-wrapped sirloin was the best so far,” Wrecker mumbled through a mouthful. He had a knack for showing up right at dinnertime, and his presence always filled the room with even more warmth and joviality. That, paired with the fact that he almost always trundled in with his latest catch over his shoulder, had solidified his place at the table above and beyond the fact that he was family.

“This sauce on that steak would be fun to try,” Hunter mused.

“Oh! I’ve got a trip coming up!” Omega announced, pushing her food to the side of her mouth and waving her fork excitedly.

“Yeah?” Hunter asked, tilting his head curiously. “For what?”

“Madame Dreyfus is going to take me on a purchasing run where she selects all of her base fabrics and shows me what to look for. Then she’ll show me which types are most conducive to different colors and types of dyes.”

“Sounds fun!” Wrecker exclaimed, attempting to counterbalance the trepidation he could hear in Hunter’s voice.

“Mhm,” Hunter conceded, “Where does she go for that?”

“One of the other islands; I forget the name,” Omega answered.

“Plata?” Wrecker asked, grinning at Hunter’s sharp look in his direction. He was referring to the second largest island on the planet, notorious for its vibrant nightlife and “you only live once” sort of atmosphere.

“No,” Omega laughed, “One of the agricultural ones.”

“Oh. Sounds good,” Hunter said slowly. “Just you and her?”

“Us, two seamstresses, and their students!”

“I don’t know,” Wrecker said in hesitant, drawn-out syllables that made both Hunter and Omega look at him quizzically, but the thinly-veiled mischief in his eyes gave him away immediately. “I’m not sure Hunter can manage without you. How long will you be gone?” His attempt at consternation was met with a delighted giggle from the girl, who tilted her head at Hunter with a playful, motherly expression.

“You’ll have to keep an eye on him for me, Wreck,” she replied in her chipper voice. “The trip is three days long! And this whole year includes trips with our mentors, so he’s gonna have to get used to it!”

“Aaawwww, Hunter,” Wrecker fawned, “What are you gonna do?”

“I guess I’ll find a way to survive,” Hunter stated dramatically, the gleam in his eye belying his own intent. Omega’s chuckle was drowned in the boom of Wrecker’s laugh, and the three of them finished their dinners in good spirits.

Previous Chapter ~ Master List ~ Next Chapter

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beansprean · 2 years

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Queening the Pawn Act 2 Part 6

Act 1

Act 2: Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1a. Close up of Nandor, tensed with shoulders up by his ears, grimacing slightly as he peeks one eye open. Offscreen, Guillermo sighs and grumbles "You're such a dick sometimes..." 1b. Reverse shot of Guillermo, body and head turned away from the viewer with one knee up on the couch and his opposite arm propped on the back. 1c. Close up of Nandor, now deeming it safe to open both eyes. He stares at Guillermo's back with apprehension and a complicated longing.

2a. Sepia toned panel showing Nadja and Laszlo in 1920s evening wear standing with arms around each other's waists. Nadja has her free hand on her hip and Laszlo's is in his pocket. They are looking down at Nandor with mixed pity and irritation. Nandor, wearing a fur coat and boots over a striped suit, is sitting on the ground with his legs stretched out and head slumped down, hair covering his face, staring at his open palms in his lap. Past Laszlo says, "This is what happens when you get attached to Familiar's, Nandor. Past Nadja says, "Humans are always temporary, you sweet stupid baby." Nandor talks over them from the present: "Laszlo and Nadja...say I get too attached." 2b. Close up on Guillermo, starting to turn in his seat to look back at Nandor, asking, "What does tha-" Nandor interrupts him from offscreen, snapping, "Turn your head, Guillermo!" 2c. Guillermo obliges, whipping his head back to face the wall with an irritated grumble. 2d. Close up of Nandor. Offscreen, Guillermo repeats, "What does that mean, Nandor?" Nandor stares at his lap, frustrated and embarrassed, replying, "Exactly what I have said!"

3. More sepia toned panels from the past, showing a string of former familiars. The first, an older white redheaded woman in a 1690s dress and hat, smiling politely at the viewer, saying "Oh, you're here. Has it really been so long?" The second, a white man with a neat goatee in a Victorian suit and tails, tipping his top hat down over his eyes with a fanged smile, saying "See ya, Mas- Nandor." The third, a plump young brown woman in a 1910s suitcoat, hat, and pearls, smiling beseechingly upward with newly minted fangs and saying "I promise I will write." The fourth is a young Benji in a loud 70s patterned shirt, polishing Nandor's white platform boogie boots with a faraway smile. He declares, "And when I'm a vampire, I'm finally gonna get out of Staten Island!" The fifth is a black woman wearing 90s overalls with long relaxed hair under a bandana, laughing uncomfortably and waving her hand dismissively at the viewer. She says, "Oh, haha, noooo. I mean, this place is great and all, but there's so much I want to do!" Nandor's voice from the present continues: "I get attached to these humans and I like them and... They never want to stick around!"

4a. A sepia toned Nandor from the past, reaching a hand out toward the viewer and saying, "I think you are deserving of a reward..." Nandor's voiceover from the present continues, the speech bubble eclipsing past Nandor's face: "So... I decided to just erase myself from their minds." 4b. Close up of Guillermo, face still turned toward the wall but clearly listening as Nandor continues, "I send them back to their lives before me and find a new familiar and decide to forget about them..." 4c. Reverse shot of Nandor, slumping forward in his chair, with a self depreciating grimace, eyes closed. He finishes his sentence: "...before I am to be getting so pathetic about it." 4d. Close up of Nandor in profile as he opens his eyes to stare at the floor, saying, "But...you..." He furrows his brow, trying to organize his thoughts. A flash of Guillermo from ten years ago flashes behind him, opening his collar and promising forever with a smile. 4e. Shot of Nandor from the front, hands folded together awkwardly in his lap. He looks up with large vulnerable eyes, still tense across his shoulders, as Guillermo finishes for him: "I was going to stay." 4f. Reverse shot of Guillermo on the couch, still turned away, his hand picking thoughtfully at the tassels on one of the many throw pillows. Offscreen, Nandor hesitantly responds, "...Yes." /end ID

#wwdits #queening the pawn #nandermo #mlm #what we do in the shadows #what we do in the shadows fx #my art #fanart #image described

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zoesblogsposts · 8 months

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o 625 words to know in your target language o

There is a really interesting blog called "Fluent Forever" that aids foreign language learners in tricks, tips and techniques to guide them to achieving fluency "quickly" and efficiently. One of the tricks is to learn these 625 vocab words in your target language, that way you have a basis to start delving into grammar with ease as you can understand a lot of vocab right off the bat. Plus this list of words are common across the world and will aid you in whatever language you are learning. Here is the list in thematic order

• Animal: dog, cat, fish, bird, cow, pig, mouse, horse, wing, animal

• Transportation: train, plane, car, truck, bicycle, bus, boat, ship, tire, gasoline, engine, (train) ticket, transportation

• Location: city, house, apartment, street/road, airport, train station, bridge hotel, restaurant, farm, court, school, office, room, town, university, club, bar, park, camp, store/shop, theater, library, hospital, church, market, country (USA,

France, etc.), building, ground, space (outer space), bank, location

• Clothing: hat, dress, suit, skirt, shirt, T-shirt, pants, shoes, pocket, coat, stain, clothing

• Color: red, green, blue (light/dark), yellow, brown, pink, orange, black, white, gray, color

• People: son, daughter, mother, father, parent (= mother/father), baby, man, woman, brother, sister, family, grandfather, grandmother, husband, wife, king, queen, president, neighbor, boy, girl, child (= boy/girl), adult (= man/woman), human (# animal), friend (Add a friend's name), victim, player, fan, crowd, person

• Job: Teacher, student, lawyer, doctor, patient, waiter, secretary, priest, police, army, soldier, artist, author, manager, reporter, actor, job

• Society: religion, heaven, hell, death, medicine, money, dollar, bill, marriage, wedding, team, race (ethnicity), sex (the act), sex (gender), murder, prison, technology, energy, war, peace, attack, election, magazine, newspaper, poison, gun, sport, race (sport), exercise, ball, game, price, contract, drug, sign, science, God

• Art. band, song, instrument (musical), music, movie, art

• Beverages: coffee, tea, wine, beer, juice, water, milk, beverage

• Food: egg, cheese, bread, soup, cake, chicken, pork, beef, apple, banana orange, lemon, corn, rice, oil, seed, knife, spoon, fork, plate, cup, breakfast, lunch, dinner, sugar, salt, bottle, food

• Home: table, chair, bed, dream, window, door, bedroom, kitchen, bathroom, pencil, pen, photograph, soap, book, page, key, paint, letter, note, wall, paper, floor, ceiling, roof, pool, lock, telephone, garden, yard, needle, bag, box, gift, card, ring, tool

• Electronics: clock, lamp, fan, cell phone, network, computer, program (computer), laptop, screen, camera, television, radio

• Body: head, neck, face, beard, hair, eye, mouth, lip, nose, tooth, ear, tear (drop), tongue, back, toe, finger, foot, hand, leg, arm, shoulder, heart, blood, brain, knee, sweat, disease, bone, voice, skin, body

• Nature: sea, ocean, river, mountain, rain, snow, tree, sun, moon, world, Earth, forest, sky, plant, wind, soil/earth, flower, valley, root, lake, star, grass, leaf, air, sand, beach, wave, fire, ice, island, hill, heat, nature

• Materials: glass, metal, plastic, wood, stone, diamond, clay, dust, gold, copper, silver, material

• Math/Measurements: meter, centimeter, kilogram, inch, foot, pound, half, circle, square, temperature, date, weight, edge, corner

• Misc Nouns: map, dot, consonant, vowel, light, sound, yes, no, piece, pain, injury, hole, image, pattern, noun, verb, adjective

• Directions: top, bottom, side, front, back, outside, inside, up, down, left, right, straight, north, south, east, west, direction

• Seasons: Summer, Spring, Winter, Fall, season

• Numbers: 0, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20 21, 22, 30, 31, 32, 40, 41, 42, 50, 51, 52, 60, 61, 62, 70, 71, 72, 80, 81, 82, 90, 91, 92, 100, 101, 102, 110, 111, 1000, 1001, 10000, 100000, million, billion, 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 5th, number

• Months: January, February, March, April, May, June, July, August, September, October, November, December

• Days of the week: Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday

• Time: year, month, week, day, hour, minute, second, morning, afternoon, evening, night, time

• Verbs: work, play, walk, run, drive, fly, swim, go, stop, follow, think, speak/say, eat, drink, kill, die, smile, laugh, cry, buy, pay, sell, shoot(a gun), learn, jump, smell, hear (a sound), listen (music), taste, touch, see (a bird), watch (TV), kiss, burn, melt, dig, explode, sit, stand, love, pass by, cut, fight, lie down, dance, sleep, wake up, sing, count, marry, pray, win, lose, mix/stir, bend, wash, cook, open, close, write, call, turn, build, teach, grow, draw, feed, catch, throw, clean, find, fall, push, pull, carry, break, wear, hang, shake, sign, beat, lift

• Adjectives: long, short (long), tall, short (vs tall), wide, narrow, big/large, small/little, slow, fast, hot, cold, warm, cool, new, old (new), young, old (young), weak, dead, alive, heavy, light (heavy), dark, light (dark), nuclear, famous

#second language #language #learning #rory gilmore #smart #tips

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lulu2992 · 1 year

Text

From the Inquisitor to the Baptist: The Evolution of John Seed

When Far Cry 5 came out, on March 27, 2018, players got to finally meet John Seed “in person” and see his final design. That said, it’s still possible to stumble upon early versions of him in the game and its files.

All the sources and references indicated by the superscript numbers will be given in the last post.

Part 2: Physical appearance, clothes, and tattoos (Far Cry 5)

Here is John Seed, the Baptist, as he appears in Far Cry 5 most of the time:

His coat is now decorated with planes, but it still has scales on the buttons. He has a two-tone blue shirt, a vest (it seems, heavily inspired by a piece from the D&G Spring/Summer 2010 menswear collection²⁷), dark grey jeans with a brown belt and an “EG” belt buckle, dark grey, laced, probably leather boots, a watch, an Eden’s Gate earring, blue sunglasses (on his head), his bunker key around his neck, a SLOTH scar on his chest, and a lot of tattoos²⁸:

Among them, in addition to the ones previously mentioned in Part 1 (the letters and symbols on his fingers, the goat, the snake, the flames, the scales, and the angelic figure with the dove in the wreath), we find:

On his right arm,

a nautical star (can represent guidance) and diamonds/jewels (can represent beauty and power)

the number seven in tally marks (also tattooed on his left little finger), probably for the seven deadly sins

a fly (can represent determination)

a sword/dagger (can represent protection or sacrifice)

an anchor (can represent God and groundedness) with another snake and pair of scales

a crescent moon (can represent purity or transition, a new beginning)

a peacock feather (the peacock is used to symbolize Pride)

the word SLOTH crossed out

a flaming horseshoe, possibly to symbolize the Horsemen (and fire) of the Apocalypse.

On his left arm,

a revolver, maybe the last vestige of the gun he was holding in the first promotional pictures and in Absolution

an eagle, which looks like it’s about to catch the snake, maybe to symbolize Eden’s Gate (the cult used to be represented by an eagle, as seen in the early piece of concept art of the Seed family¹), “killing” sins (here, Envy)

an ax (can represent strength and fearlessness)

the plane pattern that is now also on his coat

a religious cross

a chair and the words “SIT DOWN & WE TALK”, most likely a reference to the fact he’s the Project’s Confessor

a holy figure with a sickle attached to their hand and what looks like sprigs of wheat, the latter probably symbolizing the Reaping and the fact John is in charge of it

another cross with “EG” in the middle, as well as the Greek letters alpha (A) and omega (ω), “the beginning and the end” in the Book of Revelation in the Bible

a bird, maybe a swallow (can represent freedom and resilience).

Most of his tattoos seem to be religious symbols, but depending on who you ask, tattoos can have very different, sometimes deeply personal meanings, so it’s difficult to know exactly what they’re supposed to represent. Some of the significations I’ve just mentioned in the list are very generic and can be found on many websites.

The crossed-out word SLOTH is particularly interesting to me because John has a similar scar on his chest, and “Acedia” (Sloth) is missing from the list tattooed on his left hand. It seems he really hates this sin²⁹…

But funnily enough, in the game, John doesn’t always look like this.

In the bedroom of the Holmes Residence, on Joseph’s Island, there are pictures of the Seed family on the wall, and John appears in two of them³⁰:

In the first one, he’s wearing his sunglasses, and his coat appears to have EG logos on it instead of planes. In the other picture, his coat might also be the “old” one, but it’s hard to tell.

In the family portrait, also visible in the Holmes Residence³¹, it’s his early character model (no glasses, no tattoos, “EG” pattern on the coat), the one we see in the Prima Games guide, who is in the picture. His siblings look slightly different as well.

In Dutch’s bunker, there also are pictures (and short descriptions) of the Father and his Heralds. Once again, it’s John’s early model who seems to be in the photo³².

In the “Power of Yes” poster, he’s wearing his sunglasses³²:

On the “We love you and we will take you” billboards³², John’s picture is a mixture of several designs. His coat is the final one, with planes, but his face appears to belong to his early model because his sunglasses are nowhere to be found and I think his beard looks slightly longer. He has the SLOTH scar and bunker key, but the letters on his fingers are S, G, and G for Sloth and Gluttony/Greed. The tattoo on his hand is hard to see, but it doesn’t seem to be the nautical star and diamonds.

In the menu, more specifically in the Journal, where missions are listed, we can once again see John’s early model (no glasses, no tattoos), like in this image that illustrates the mission “The Confession”³³:

I’ve previously mentioned an early version of the “You have been Marked” broadcast (in IGN’s video²¹), but an even earlier version of it can be seen in Far Cry Arcade. If you add the “Counter Cafeteria” (Far Cry 5 > Objects > Residential > Kitchen) to your map in the Arcade Editor, you can see this³⁴:

The Eden’s Gate cross that appears at the beginning is also a very early design, the one featured in what could be the first artwork of the Seed family¹.

A picture of John’s old 3D model was also in the deleted in-game encyclopedia (still partially available in the files)³⁵. His sunglasses, key, scar, and tattoos are missing, and he has the EG coat.

In the loading screens for the Holland Valley region, although John looks a little more realistic than his in-game model, his design appears to be the same³⁶:

As for his in-game portrait and character icon, they feature his final design as well:

But there also exists a very early version of this portrait in the files. John appears to be the character on the left, once again wearing sunglasses³⁷:

But surprisingly, the release of Far Cry 5 didn’t mark the end of the changes regarding John’s appearance. After the game came out, his model was slightly altered one last time.

If you ever took a close look at his shoes in the first few months that followed the release of Far Cry 5, you may have noticed that there was blood on them. This blood stain is also visible in the “Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse” official artwork²³:

But when I looked at his shoes again in the Arcade Editor five months later, the blood was mysteriously gone…

I have no idea why it was removed, but I like that it was because John’s evolution, from the game’s earliest stages of development to its final version, was not just physical; his personality, methods, and morals were also modified. The blood disappearing from his shoes is a subtle and maybe meaningless change, but I think it perfectly illustrates how his violence was gradually toned down during the development of Far Cry 5.

To be continued…

#far cry 5 #john seed #joseph seed #jacob seed #faith seed

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dilf-din · 1 year

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Suddenly

Chapter 1: Spring

Din Djarin x Florist!Reader

WC: 2100

Warnings: absolutely none, all fluff and domestic cuteness, no use of y/n but reader does have a nickname and is female presenting

A/N: I told y’all I was going to exploit this little house and the time has come. I was planning on this just being a little one shot, but I fell in love with the dynamic so it’ll be a short series, just 4 chapters! Listen to Venus by Sleeping at Last to get the inspo for this little story. Enjoy 💖

Chapter 2

After a while, I thought I'd never find you

I convinced myself that I would never find you

When suddenly, I saw you

“It’s good to have you back, Mando,” Karga smiled warmly sliding a bag of credits across the table in exchange for the cleared pucks he had brought into the High Magistrate’s office. Mando sat relaxed in a large leather chair across from Greef Karga, open arms draped lazily across the seat. He was tossing a small green fruit up into the air and catching it with a gloved hand listening to the man’s booming voice brag about the shops that would be opening in the newly renovated town square.

“We’d love to have you at the opening ceremony, you are a vital part of our economy here on Nevarro, after all.”

Mando hummed in response. “I’ll do my best to be there.”

While he did feel some sense of obligation to the man who had gifted him a house, he also didn’t do things that he didn’t want to. Karga knew that. For years their relationship had been a bit of a power struggle, but Mando always came out on top.

He looked over at Grogu who was quietly watching a children’s program on a holopad in the seat next to him.

“Time to go, kid,” he said, rubbing his ears gently.

Grogu nodded, lifting up the pad for his dad to tuck into the pack that hung on his hip. Mando tucked the bag of credits next to it and rose to shake Karga’s hand.

“Two days from now! I’ll save you and the little one a seat to watch the parade!” he called after the pair as they made their way out of his office.

When they stepped outside on the warm path, Grogu held his hands up and chirped, “Buir!”

Din chuckled and scooped him into the crook of his arm. “C’mere ad’ika.”

The morning sun climbed higher into the cloudless sky casting warm rays onto the crowded market place. Din’s boots made a padded thud as he marched down the black stone path towards the booths selling local treats and produce. A sea of voices chattering with the vendors, the smell of roasted meat in a sweet marinade, bright colored banners advertising their wares, Grogu loved coming to the market. His ears turned in every direction at each new voice, nose pointed up to follow the wafting scents.

Din purchased a dozen of his favorite sweet rolls, passing one to the child to munch on while he stocked up on the rest of the supplies they would need for the coming week. With a pack sufficiently full, Mando made his way to the edge of town, where he had parked the old speeder bike he bought off of the Anzellans. It wasn’t anything high tech, parts of it rusted with age, but it got them from their little cabin to the bustling town and back. The ride out was twenty minutes of silent bliss. Some scraggly trees and shrubs dotting the otherwise barren landscape, no other homes around for several kilometers. He reveled in the solitude. Din had considered planting a small garden come summer, something to add some color to the greys and browns.

He wiped his boots on the mat in front of the door before entering their small home. Grogu did a flip to the floor and took off after a ball Greef Karga had gifted him with. The cabin came fully furnished but minimally decorated. There was nothing about it that told you anything about who lived there other than the basket of toys that sat in the living area hinting at a small child’s presence. The kitchen and living area were connected in one large space, the only separation provided by a lengthy island across from the stove. Two bedrooms sat at the far end of the house separated by a bathroom in the middle. The second bedroom was made up for a guest if he ever had one. A bedside table with a lamp, an empty closet, a nice sized bed with white sheets covered in delicate grey leaves and vines. Din had purchased a bassinet for Grogu, it stayed tucked in the corner of the main suite he slept in. They preferred to sleep near each other after all their travels and time spent tucked in the sleeping nook of the Crest.

Grogu giggled and babbled about his ball, contentedly smacking it around the room, weaving in between the couch and arm chairs. Din chuckled to himself. The bag of groceries sat heavy on the counter, threatening to spill over at any moment, so he set to unpacking their little haul. Fresh fruit and bread laid out on the counter for easy access. Some meats and cheeses stocking their fridge unit alongside some of Grogu’s favorite juice. Din had even picked up a fresh bag of caf to brew from some far off, mid rim planet.

He breathed in, lungs full of thankfulness. When he first laid eyes on Grogu those years ago that felt like a lifetime, he never imagined their story playing out the way it had, that he would be so lucky as to live out a quiet life with him between jobs. Din felt like the puzzle was finally coming together. There was no box to match it to, but he could see the picture coming into focus with just a few missing pieces. He paid no mind to those blurred out areas, he was more than content, he was happy for the first time in his life.

Din stood behind the crowd, arms crossed over his beskar plated chest. Karga had Grogu in his lap as they watched the small parade circle around the town square. All the school aged children in bright colors waving and grinning, a few of the older kids from the secondary school beating drums and playing a light melody on flute. There were a few dancers and people handing out flowers and candies to the townspeople lining the street. Grogu was clapping and waving, that’s when Din saw you for the first time. His breath caught in his chest in an inexplicable way. Your hair was braided back with flowers tucked in carefully, a crown of daisies atop of your head. You had on a white, billowy shirt that hung off your shoulders tucked into a long, flowing turquoise skirt with a thick belt of brown leather separating the two garments. You were hand in hand with one of the younger kids, skipping along beside them. When you passed by the section they were watching from, you plucked the flower crown off of your head and set it atop Grogu’s.

“Buir!” he squealed in joy turning to face Din. Your eyes followed Grogu’s and you gave a small wave to the silver plated man before dancing further along the stone path.

Din felt a rush of heat to his cheeks, an ache in his chest he wasn’t sure he was capable of feeling again until this moment. Suddenly, the blurry parts of the picture started to come into focus, and it looked a lot like you. No, this was crazy, he was jumping way too far ahead. He didn’t even know your name.

He didn’t even know your name, and yet he felt drawn to you, captivated by your kind smile, the gentle rhythm of your feet as you danced away. The lilt of your laugh carried to him on the breeze, and he knew he was a dead man. His gaze returned to Grogu who was bouncing with excitement, his little hands drawing up to touch the flowers resting on his head.

Din kicked off of the wall he was leaning against to bend his head into Karga’s earshot.

“Who was that?”

“That was my lovely new flower shop owner!” Karga beamed. “She just moved here from Naboo! I think she’s going to make this little town a lot prettier, ‘eh, Mando?” he asked with an elbow to the ribs.

Although he couldn’t see his face, Karga could imagine the exact expression painted across it and he laughed heartily before pointing out a juggler to Grogu.

Din leaned back against the wall with a slight shake of his head. The parade was nearing a close, and he wondered about seeking you out when the festivities died down.

He decided to make a few stops around the market before heading to see if you would be at your shop to speak to you. He tried to calm down the race of his heart as he assembled a small welcome basket to present you with. He tucked a black kerchief with delicate silver stars stitched across it into the bottom of a small, woven basket before filling it with a fresh loaf of bread, a jar of jam and local honey, a brick of hard cheese imported from another system, and a magnet that said “Welcome to Nevarro!” across a background of two volcanoes with a river of lava running between them.

What if you thought this was silly or too forward. He almost talked himself out of it, but his feet on autopilot pulled him to the front of your shop. “Bloom” stretched across the top of the large window in a curling font, the space below filled with blue and lavender floral arrangements. A small wooden sign that appeared to be hand painted swung above the door when he pushed it open. A small bell tinkled alerting whoever might have been there to his presence, so he decided it was too late to back down.

“Be right there!”

You were up on a stool, in the same white shirt as before, but paint covered overalls now hanging from your lower half. A paintbrush in hand as you carefully listed your prices in thin white paint strokes against the navy blue wall behind the register. From here he could see that top of what seemed to be a delicate geometric tattoo running the very center of your spine. You finished the number you were carefully outlining and hopped down, recognizing them instantly.

“Well hey you!” you smiled warmly at the pair approaching your counter. Grogu hopped up wiggling his little legs as he got his footing and waved at you. You knelt down to his level and waved back.

“Here,” Din said extending the basket, “I wanted to get you something to say thank you for today.”

Your eyes wide at the kind gesture, “Well thank you, but that isn’t necessary. It was nothing.”

“It wasn’t though.” Din hesitated, his words coming slowly as if carefully choosing them, “He’s had a very hard life, endured much more than anyone should have to, so anything or anybody that allows him to just be a kid is something I’ll always be thankful for.”

Your gaze softened even more somehow as you rubbed his soft head. Grogu leaned into the touch, big brown eyes squeezed tight.

“Well thank you again,” you trailed off, the empty space searching for a name.

“People call me Mando, and this is Grogu.”

You gave him your name with a smile, “But a lot of people call me Milla.”

“Like the flower?”

You cocked your head to the side, “Yeah, how do you know of millaflowers? Have you been to Naboo?”

“A handful of times. My work takes me all over the galaxy.”

“Well I’m sure you’re full of stories,” you grinned straightening up from where you had been bent over to talk to the child. “You’ll have to tell me some sometime.”

“I’ll be seeing you around I’m sure, I was thinking of planting a small garden soon. I’m sure you can recommend a few things that will take well to the soil here.”

“Come by any time. It was a pleasure to meet you, especially you, Grogu,” you smiled once more reaching out to rub his ear.

“Take care, Milla,” Din called as he exited the shop. You smiled at the nickname and the gentle tingle of the bell as they disappeared from your view.

Grogu grunted in disapproval as his father carried him out of the shop and back towards their parked speeder.

“I know kid, I didn’t want to wear out our welcome, but trust me, I could’ve stayed there all day.”

He was already thinking of excuses to stop by your shop again. He’d open a kriffing landscaping company if it meant he got to see your smile every day. Maker, he was in over his head.

Mando’a translations

Buir: father

Ad’ika: little one

Taglist: @harriedandharassed

#the mandalorian fic #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you

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biscuitblinkeu · 1 year

Text

1 + 1 = 2 [13]

Chaennie x Fem!reader

Word Count: 3072

Warning: Making Out?

1 (angel) + 1 (demon) = 2

…………………………………………………………………….

“What? What about my eyes?” Confused, the angel asks. Is Jennie implying something is wrong with her eyes too?

The eyes staring back at her, eyes that were now a radiant blue, were Jennie’s own feline-like ones. “Jennie, your eyes are glowing blue.”

“Are they?” Jennie fumbles around the kitchen for a reflective surface, and when she finds one, she uses it like a mirror. “Holy shit.” She says, because Chaeyoung was right.

“They look exactly like yours are looking right now, Rosie.” She says nonchalantly, and Chaeyoung practically snatches the metal bowl out of her hands, looking at her own reflection.

The situation is getting stranger and stranger.

“I'm sure it’ll go away,” the angel dismisses, “but let’s talk?”

“Oh. Well, okay.” Jennie sits herself down at the island chairs, Chaeyoung taking the seat across from her. Jennie doesn’t know if they should be ignoring the fact that their eyes are blue, but she’ll ignore the warm hum buzzing through her body, and the thoughts of you.

Chaeyoung looks at her expectantly, and Jennie bites her lip looking around the room before meeting blue eyes. “Sharing is caring.” The reaper blurts. “Right?”

“It is, in some cases. Where are you going with this, Jen?”

“You said, and I quote, ‘What’s mine is yours’ to me before, does that saying of yours still apply?”

Chaeyoung remembers the time she said that, and it will always apply. She nods. “Yes, always.” She can’t help but become nervous about where this is going.

Jennie wonders if she should just say it. Just tell her best friend she likes you— likes her human. How would Chaeyoung react though? She’s possessive over you, always claiming you verbally (*cough* maybe physically). But Jennie wants to say that too. She wants you too.

Jennie squeezes her eyes shut. Then, there it is again— that want— all aimed towards you. She can feel her heart beating in her ears. It’s a strong urge to kiss you again. She wants your lips on hers, on her skin. She wants you to make her feel— “Jennie?” Chaeyoung is looking at her with concern. What was wrong with her today?

“I like (Y/n).” Jennie winces as the words leave her lips, and she looks to her hands in fear of seeing Chaeyoung’s reaction. For a while, there’s nothing. Just silence. No response from Chaeyoung except a slight crease between her eyebrows.

“Okay,” Chaeyoung finally speaks, and it comes out soft, like an exhale. “I suppose that makes sense.” She crosses her arms, studying Jennie. “What do you want to do then?”

Always the straightforward one. She’s not mad though, so Jennie allows herself to relax a bit. “I don’t know…would you share her? Can I be affectionate to her too?”

…

You wake up at the feeling of a light fluttering across your neck and a heavy weight on your chest. You open your eyes to dark brown hair buried in the crook of your neck. “Jen?” You murmur sleepily. “What are you doing? Is the food done?” Jennie shifts just enough to look up at you with blue eyes through her white tipped lashes, and you realize she’s laying on top of you. “Yes it is. Did I wake you? I’m sorry.”

“It's okay, it was time I got up anyway,” you say, smiling in reassurance. “Jen, your eyes are blue.” You pointed out as you pulled yourself up, whereas Jennie straddles your lap now.

“It’ll go away,” she informed.

“Oh okay. Let’s go eat?” You say, smiling at the feline-eyed reaper.

“Can we wait a little bit? I've been waiting for you to wake up so I could kiss you again.” The corners of her lips quirk into an impish smile and you gawk.

“K-Kiss me again?”

“Yes,” she confirms. She plays with the fabric of your shirt, twisting and pinching it between her fingers as she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, staring at your lips. “…I talked to Chaeyoung, she doesn’t mind all that much. I just have to follow the rules.” (Like you do with Chaeyoung for your contract with the angel, Jennie must follow Chaeyoung’s rules.) “In the end it depends on what you want though; If you want me,” she says, hands sliding up the back of your neck and curling around it.

Your heart is racing, pounding in your ears at the look she’s giving you. You're rendered speechless, you can only nod in approval, giving Jennie permission to kiss you.

Jennie presses her lips against yours, her thumbs grazing your jaw. You melt into the kiss and you pull her close. Her fingers curl in the soft hair at the nape of your neck while yours slide up her thighs. When you part for air you can’t help the smile that grows on your face and you bite your lip to stop it from turning into that cheesy grin of yours. Jennie has a smile of her own as well. “Kiss me again?” She whispers. And you do.

This time the kiss was hot; feverish; desperate in manner because Jennie could not get enough. She was sucking, biting, teasing with her tongue flickering at the seam of your mouth. You allowed Jennie to push her tongue in your mouth, completely surrendering to the sensations you felt. You threaded your fingers between her soft hair and gently closed your hands into a fist, tugging slightly, and the sensation prompted Jennie to whimper into your lips. It was a sound you were desperate to hear again, and when you finally did you groaned.

You both part for air, smiling at each other like idiots. Jennie nuzzles her face in the crook of your neck for a few moments, placing light kisses there. She pulls away when she realizes you must be hungry since she made you wait, only to see the marks on your neck because unbeknownst to you, the concealer has faded away.

“Do they hurt?” She asked with furrowed brows.

“What?” You said breathlessly. Jennie doesn’t answer, instead you feel a warm fingertip tracing your lower throat area and clavicles: where your angel had fun marking you.

Ah.

You’re aware of the vague stinging sensation in those areas. “It’s bearable.” She hums in response. And leaning forward, Jennie places kisses down the column of your throat and the base of your neck, naughty hands trail along your waist tracing miscannelous shapes.

“You’ll be mine too, won’t you?” She purrs against your skin, her voice a low hum.

“Of course.”

…

Unsurprisingly you fell asleep after eating, much to Chaeyoung and Jennie’s amusement. You were carried up to your room by Chaeyoung, who went back downstairs to Jennie.

The reaper was grinning like a fool, and as Chaeyoung would say, she was too happy. The angel wasn’t exactly thrilled at having to share you, but if that is what you want then so be it.

Jennie left that night, and Chaeyoung put the leftovers in the fridge before sneaking in your bed, positioning you to lay on her chest.

When you wake up you can already hear all the angels' voices from downstairs. You cover your head with the pillow.

You may have fallen asleep yesterday, earlier today, and again now, but that doesn’t mean you can’t sleep more… But you have to wake up and go to the banquet. Which you’re regretting.

You don’t respond to arms picking you up as you were carried or moved somewhere— too tired to respond.

“Pour water on her.” A voice suggests, and you jolt up with wide eyes. You move away as much as you can in the arms of whoever has you, away from where the voice came.

Then you hear a laugh, being Jisoo’s, whose eyes are wet with how hard she’s laughing. You narrow your eyes at her and scowl. You don’t find that funny at all.

“She doesn’t even have water, it’s fine.” Chaeyoung says from behind you, and you realize you're in her arms.

You look at her; her hair is messed up and slightly fuzzy with a behead, she looks just as dazed as you.

“Forget about that, both of you get dressed. We only have an hour to get ready,” Seulgi said.

“Right…” Chaeyoung mumbled before letting go of you. She pulls your hand in front of you, holding them out flat. “Here.” Then she snaps her fingers, and an outfit falls into your hands. Not even a minute later you’re being rushed into the bathroom.

“Eager, aren’t we?” Chaeyoung hears Lisa’s teasing voice as she shuts the floor for you. She rolls her eyes and walks past her to the other room on the side of the hall.

Now left to your own devices, you realize you didn’t get to greet the other angels. But, ignoring that, you unfold the clothes and hold them out in front of you.

They’re beautiful— and they’re the best designs of clothing you’ve ever seen. The clothes feel incredibly soft and expensive. You can’t imagine how much this would cost if it was sold in the human world.

About ten minutes later you walk out the room. Immediately, there’s an exaggerated gasp, you expected it was from Chaeyoung or Lisa but you’re met with Naeyeon. The bunny-toothed angel is covering her mouth, eyes wide with awe.

“Chaeyoung look! Look!” The angel runs to the other door down the hall, banging on it hard.

You’re thinking about stopping her because it sounds like the door will break with any more force until Chaeyoung opens it. Your angel shoves her aside playfully, trying to move her so she can get a better look at you. Once she does she’s shocked.

“Wow…” Chaeyoung muttered, utterly speechless at how you looked. You wore a white dress, the fabric was ruched and it had a high leg slit. You also had white heels with straps that ran halfway up your lower leg. After you put it on, you had definitely stared at yourself in the mirror— you looked like an angel. The dress looked like a goddess would wear it. It looked amazing on you.

She’ll have to thank Jennie later for helping her pick this one. The thought of pulling you back into the room and having her way with you filled her mind. But she didn’t entertain the thought.

After a while, Chaeyoung noticed you were pacing out. “What is it?” She asks as she walks over and places a hand on your hair, combing through it lightly to not mess it up. She doesn’t like when you space out.

After a couple more calls, you answered. “Nothing, I was just thinking.” You said, the back of your neck hot. Chaeyoung raised an eyebrow.

She cocked an eyebrow, “Thinking about what?” Possessiveness was evident in her tone, and you take a few seconds before answering just to tease her.

“You,” you answered, forcing it to come out naturally. “You look great.” And that wasn’t a made up comment this time, it was sincere, because in all seriousness Chaeyoung looked great, beautiful, ethereal.

The angel had a stunning white off the shoulder gown, which had a trail behind it. Around her neck she wore a white diamond necklace, accented with gold and the Park Family crest. (Her dress: Tiffany and Co Botanical exhibition in Tokyo.) It was an outfit you thought was better than everyone else’s— or maybe that’s favoritism. Everyone looked great.

“Good.” Is what she responded with, her eyes practically glued to your outfit. She took one last up and down look to admire everything before grabbing your hand and leading you downstairs where everyone waited.

When you and Chaeyoung went downstairs, Lisa, Jisoo, Seulgi, and everyone else was down there, including a new face.

Right when Yeji caught a glimpse of you, the brown-haired angel ran over to you, smiling brightly. You could see the Light Fury features Chaeyoujf was talking about come to surface as the girl smiled at you, her cat-like eyes disappearing into crescents.

“Hello! My name is Hwang Yeji. You can call me Yeji, it’s nice to meet you.” The angel was practically bouncing with excitement when she introduced herself, Nayeon putting a hand on her shoulder to calm her.

“Hello, I’m (Y/n) (Y/ln) but you already know that. It’s nice to meet you too.” You said. And now that you were introduced, Jennie came up to you, crushing you in a hug.

“I know we saw each other yesterday but it was too long.” She sighed dramatically and you hugged her back the best you could with the crushing hug. A few seconds later Jennie was peeled off by Chaeyoung, who was worried if you could breathe.

Before Jennie could whine about it you were interrupted by a loud clap, being Seulgi’s. “Listen up everyone,” she spoke in a commanding, smooth voice, “the banquet starts at 8:30pm, and as you know it is 8:12 right now.”

We are all on the job, tasked with watching (Y/n). Does everyone understand?” Seulgi looked at Jisoo and the raven glowered. She knows that look. That look means ‘you play around too much.’

“Yes, we know. I will watch her if she’s in my care, don’t worry.” Jisoo muttered with a roll of her eyes. Everyone else nodded in agreement. They wouldn’t let you out of their sight.

“Alright. Would you all like to go in early? We have eighteen minutes till it starts.” Seulgi suggested and everyone shook their heads in disagreement rather quickly.

Going to the banquet early was known as a death wish. Most of the angels go early and it’s annoying to say hello and give greetings to all of them. It’s exactly like being at a family dinner or gathering, having to say hello to everyone that arrives in fear of being called disrespectful. But if they came at just the right time or a bit later they could avoid greetings altogether.

“Okay?… Let’s just sit tight for now then.” She should’ve expected that answer. After Seulgi was done, everyone went back to doing their own thing.

Lisa was playing the game along with Jennie and Yeji, and Nayeon had been pulled in Jisoo’s embrace and they watched the other two play. Seulgi was reading a book to pass time. Chaeyoung was around you, as always, watching you pull your phone out.

“Is that Milo?” Chaeyoung asked as she saw you pull up his messages. “Yeah,” you answered. “I wanna check how he’s doing.” You were still worried about him.

{

SmartAss: How are you doing?

Sent.

Miloooo: I'm doing alright, my head just hurts. Everything is aching, and I'm exhausted from yesterday for some reason, but I think it's from soccer practice. Other than that I'm okay! What about you? You've been skipping school a lot in the afternoon.

Miloooo: What happened to being a perfect student? Hahaha

SmartAss: I still am.

Miloooo: Barely! (ㅎ.ㅎ)

SmartAss: I've just been busy these days, and I have been completing my missing work, therefore I am a perfect student. I hope you feel better though :)

Miloooo: Aw. Thank you, love ;)

}

You were about to type another response until Charyoung spoke up, her tone filled with bitterness. “Love?” You heard her mutter, and if you looked behind you were sure you’d see her scowling. “Are you his love?” She asked with a frown, taking your phone from you.

“No it’s just a nickname Milo calls me when I’m being nice. He has a girlfriend.” You said and leaned back in your chair as far as you could, hitting Chaeyoung behind on purpose. You shot your hand up in a swift motion upon seeing the angel typing a response, intending to snatch the phone away.She just raised her arm higher in response. “Why so eager?” She taunted before telling the send button. Maybe she did it out of irritation or jealousy even. Maybe it wasn’t and she just wanted to toy you with you. She handed the phone back to you and you were scared of what she had sent.

{

SmartAss: Shouldn't you call your girlfriend love?

}

You sighed in relief, happy Chaeyoung didn’t send something stupid. Chaeyoung pulls your chair close, setting her head on your shoulder as she waits for Milo to respond. “Happy?” You hear her say and you nod.

{

Miloooo: True, True. She is my only Love.

SmartAss: Exactly.

SmartAss: It was nice talking to you today, I’ll talk to you later or at school next week. I have somewhere to go right now.

Miloooo: Alright, with Jennie I'm suspecting? Or Chaeyoung? Both, maybe? They're always with you so it makes me wonder… ;)))

SmartAss: Mhm, correct, Have a great rest of your day.

Miloooo: Correct about what? Chaeyoung? Jennie?

Miloooo: Give me answers woman!

Read.

}

“Was that the friend who almost died?” Jennie said nosily after you out your phone down. You didn’t notice she was behind you, giving her a chance to see the texts. She got her answer when you nodded. “Interesting,” Jennie voiced. “But we have to leave now.” She said, already dragging you to the middle of the room where everyone was huddled up. Chaeyoung followed.

"Give me your hand," Chaeyoung said, and you gave it to her to hold, Jennie took your other hand. You all were in a circle, hands clasped together. "I know this looks stupid but this is the easiest way to teleport us all at the same time," Seulgi explained sheepishly.

More teleporting?

Before you could comment on it, a space warp rippled through the room, stopping your voice from coming out and making you unable to breathe properly. The suffocating feeling left as fast as it came as you arrived in a hallway, limbs all still intact. Once it was completely over your legs gave out, causing you to fall. You expected to hit the floor but someone's arms caught you, being Jisoo, who had a taunting smile on her face.

"Be more careful human." The angel said with a pejorative tone, and lifted you back onto your feet. "Thank you.." You said to Jisoo before walking over to Jennie and Chaeyoung.

"Alright, who wants to watch (Y/n) first?' Seulgi said, and you feel like a little child in this situation. She was sure nobody besides Chaeyoung and Jennie was gonna raise their hand but everyone did.

Would you like to continue?

#biscuitblinkeu #blackpink x reader #fanfic #blackpink #fem reader #chaennie x reader #chaennie x fem!reader #rosé x reader #rosé x fem!reader #jennie x fem!reader #jennie x reader #park chaeyoung x reader #somethingpeculiar.biscuit

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habit-poxly · 2 years

Text

father neptune (pt.2)

Simon “Ghost” Riley x reader

sea monster-hunter au!

description: after two months trapped in Manchester, finally Simon is able to venture back to the island to search for the woman who endlessly haunts his dreams.

warnings: strong horror elements, descriptions of drowning

word count: 3.2k

masterlist | Pt.1 | Pt.2 | Pt.3

Ghost would often resent coming back to his empty, crumbling flat; there was simply no reason to stay living in Manchester- especially after the passing of his family- yet he had. Year after year Simon would put off moving into London, brushing it off as an eventuality yet one he didn't seem particularly interested in making a reality. He had given the excuse that it was too much hassle, that he didn't have enough time to dedicate to it, but

He had always been a distant man, never caring for sharing his emotions- and rarely his unfiltered thoughts. Any amount of genuine human connection was an anomaly, something he wasn't built for, something he had never felt he experienced fully. He imagines that's the real reason he stays so far away from everyone else; even when he was in a room full of people he still couldn't help but feel like a ghost- completely alone and invisible.

Night terrors had chased Simon relentlessly for as long as he could remember. He recalls that when he was a child he would often wake up in such a panic, in such fear that he was certain there must have been bugs under his skin with the way it would crawl. Yet, since arriving back to his desolate flat- bare, cold walls nestled in a row of other brown brick units- the night terrors have been replaced with dreams of her. It had been two months, horrific weather grounding the Bravo 141 crew until the storm that raged just off their shores became more manageable. Even the sturdiest of Royal Navy hunting vessels had succumbed to the violent, sail-crushing waves. That information however did nothing to calm Simon's rampant longing to return to the island as quickly as possible.

Recollections of that night had swarmed in his mind for eight weeks, turning his dreams into visions of her nightly. They were far from the horrific, gory, nightmares he had grown accustomed to; originally they started as dreams of him drowning, a quiet, slow struggle in the ocean's gentle current- a far cry from the way he had already fully accepted he was going to die. He had always believed it would be in battle, in glory, perhaps he would be eaten by a monster- the thought of drowning hardly crossed his mind despite how often he sat on top of the water. The dreams would leave him exhausted in the mornings, his body aching with the physical exertion of the actions from his dreams.

As time moved on, they morphed into something far different. She would float above the water where he struggled, white grown still heavy with the growing weight of the salty ocean water. Her hands would reach down and take his, keeping his top half bobbing above water, and there they would stay. He doesn't ever recall the conversations the pair have when he wakes, although the pleasant feeling that would settle in his gut while attempting to remember made them appear rather nice. He would cling to her, wherever she would so graciously allow, saving him from suffering through yet another night of endless struggle for life. Her fingers would run through his wet hair, moonlight bouncing off her feature and sending him into obsession.

Mad, it was driving him mad. In recent times his dreams had grown so pleasant, so healingly wholesome, that he found himself disappointed to wake up. His days would be spent in exhaustion, simply waiting out the time until he would return to sleep- until he could see her again. He couldn't stand another night slumped in his chair or laying stiff in his uncomfortable bed. No matter how many times he mulled over it in his brain, he couldn't find where the feelings came from, or why. It had been getting worse, the feelings of longing to be with her slowly becoming overwhelming. Repeatedly John had softly urged Simon to move to London, he even offered for the pair to rent a flat together. Of course, Simon declined, the captain's worries going completely unheard.

For weeks, the Captain, Soap, and Gaz had all sent him letters, filled with meaningless small talk and life updates. Simon would respond, coldly and formally as he always had in his writing, never confessing to anyone of his deteriorating situation. Simon sat in wait for one particular letter from the Captain, a letter for which he had bags packed and ready at the door waiting for the arrival of, the letter calling him back to work- finally back to her. And when it came, Simon had never been in London quicker- normally the trip would take at least four days, but he managed in two and a half. It was raining when he arrived, the streets busy with rushing people.

The crew gathered in Price's office- standing around his desk looking over one of Price's many maps. Despite the Bravo sticking to roughly the same course every voyage the men always met before departure to talk specifically about the route. Price's finger traces over the drawn lines, making routine comments and reminders. Simon rarely put full attention into moments like these anymore, he had grown so experienced that this portion of this work was an annoyance more than anything.

"We're stopping at that island?" Gaz questions, confusion plastering his voice. Soap and him exchange brief glances before the Captain clears his throat.

"Don't see why not. 's a beautiful place." John shrugs, despite how he waved off the topic his body was tense and uneasy. The three others pause for a moment as if all of them were struggling to find the proper words to question the man. The Captain notices the uneasy tension immediately, shaking his head he continues. "We won't be stayin' the night again. We'll just drop in as normal."

Simon tenses, he hadn't even thought about the possibility that the other men would want to return, his thoughts of the woman completely crowding his brain. "Why not?" He growls, his tone coming off far more dangerous than he intended. The Captain and he had a unique relationship- Ghost was just simply able to get away with treating John in a way others couldn't. Ghost suspects it's because John views him as an equal, the pair having been friends since their enlistment days.

John shoots Ghost an odd look, his eyebrows scrunching and creating wrinkles on his forehead. "There's just no need." He shakes his head again, turning back to the map ready to move on.

Anxiety pools in Simon's gut. For weeks he had been endlessly fixated on seeing her again, the thoughts of her making it nearly painful to wake up in the mornings. It was no longer a want to travel to see her, to learn who she is and how she functions. Obsessed was a word Simon viewed as too inadequate to describe how he felt, every waking and unconscious moment was spent wishing he was with her. It was desperate- he admits to himself-, the way he longed for a woman he had seen and spoken to once, a woman whose face was never even clear view. Yet, that didn't help dull any of his feelings.

" 'Think she's a selkie, maybe the lass was forced to marry one of the fat bastards in that village." Soap chimes, voice and face serious.

"Believe in sailor's tales now too do yah?" John lets his serious expression fade, the lines on his forehead fading into crow's feet beside his eyes.

"Believe in my culture- in what we saw." Soap responds firmly, crossing his arms over his chest. " 'Feel for that woman, maybe we should stop by and make sure everything 'right. Wouldn't be able to sleep knowin' she could need help and we didn't do anything." He finishes, Simon gives a brief nod before returning his gaze back to the captain. The man looked unsteady again, the same heavy look settling again.

Simon shifts in place, his large figure always seeming to lurk in the spaces he occupied. His whole life he had been deprived of essential affection, even with the handful of women he had dated he had never felt a satisfying amount of love- it always being just too little to make him content. Yet, these dreams had come and he had felt satisfied, body half in the frigid water, half in her warm embrace, it was something- and he would take anything, everything.

The Captain lets out an exhausted-sounding sigh, his fingers moving to pinch the bridge of his nose. "And what did we see?" He asks, a dangerous tone to his voice. Soap paused for a moment, face stern and lips pulled tight, the look response enough.

"You know what you saw." Soap responds, eyes fixated on the Captain. Simon had known John Price a very long time, and something he had always done was deny how things impacted him. Regardless of circumstance, John acted fine and would refuse to do anything else- driving an open and honest person like Soap mad. John wouldn't admit it out loud, yet this was something no one in the room could deny.

"We'll visit, I'm not spending a night at that dock." The Captain grumbles defeated, dragging a heavy hand over his worried face. And with that, the men went about their duties.

Preparations for their voyage didn't take long, the four men had become trained professionals over their many years inside the vessel. The ship itself was massive and commanding, dominating any harbour she sailed into- whether in experience, age, or durability. It was a typical 18th-century Frigate converted into a hunting vessel, with deep brown wood making up the hull and black metal detailing. The sides were scattered with slashes and marks, souvenirs of the many battles she had sailed away from, reminders of conquest. Three large masses sat on the deck, white sails hanging high. It was a large ship with many decks for only four men to take care of, leaving most of the ship empty for cargo- which no one minded. Fewer people had meant less mess, and the freedom of space had meant everyone had space to themselves aboard- something they all appreciated.

His silent plan to venture onto the island and search for her remains buzzing in his heart the whole trip, keeping him up at night with excitement in his cot yet desperate to return to her arms. The weather had subdued into a manageable but miserable rainfall over the ocean, grey clouds lingering above. At one time he remembers being rather annoyed every time it would rain- making the deck slippery and his vision blurry- yet as he aged he became to appreciate it, miss it even when it was gone.

His hands tightly grip the railing in front of him, his eyes fixated on the distant glow of the island's lighthouse. It sat on a barren cliffside, standing tall and alone in the empty landscape. There was a small white wooden building attached, both buildings matching in paint colour, it was one of the simpler lighthouses he had seen, probably built by the crown themselves with very limited funds. The villagers seemed to live there as if they had dropped out of the sky, the buildings seemed old yet unlived-in; as if everyone who existed within it took extra care to never leave a trace. The houses were as dull as the rest of their surroundings, serving their functional purpose only, no care taken to the details.

The entire journey had been unbearable, him having to go about his duties all while thinking of her- and having to pretend that he was not.

As the boat pulled closer to shore the men darted around the deck, fixing the sails and preparing to dock. Price called commands, it wasn't needed anymore- all the men understood exactly what they were supposed to be doing- yet John had always done it anyways. As the ship slows to a halt Simon's eyes scan tentatively down the shoreline, the cove where she had been now half filled with water at high tide. He doubted any of the men in town knew where she lived, and even if they did he doubts they would tell him willingly. Instead of docking, however, the Captain drops the anchor a distance away. Price gathers the men on the deck beside one of the small boats hanging off the side of the ship. John had been sure to remind them to bring their swords, Soap and Simon exchanged brief glances, silent questions exchanged as Price loaded them into the boat. Gaz had decided to stay on the ship, feeling far more comfortable with the space between him and the shore. The ride in was painfully quiet, the crew sitting in silence until the front of the boat hit the rocky beach.

Many times he had had to remind himself that she was just a woman, one who thought he was a ghost, one who had probably been frightened by them following her, one who had tenderly apologized for his hurt. She had been sweet, achingly so, it pierced his soul, cementing her into him forever.

As they pull the boat onto the beach Soap stretches and takes a long look around. "Where to start..." he mutters, hand rubbing over his pale face.

"Soap-" The Captain says firmly, pulling a cigar from his pocket and setting it between his lips. "Head into town, we'll meet back at the pub before it gets dark." His hands feel over the pockets of his jacket before moving to his pants looking for his matchbook.

Soap nods firmly, responding with a uniform 'yes, sir.' before turning and walking towards the path into town.

As soon as Soap disappeared out of view, Price began slowly walking down the beach, nursing his cigar as his feet displaced the rocks below his boots- not the same pair they had found on the dock, in fact, he had never seen Price wear them again, they probably sat in the back of his closet in his flat, or maybe they were silently tossed overboard.

" 'right mate?" Simon asks, eyes piercing into the shorter man as he squinted.

"Yeah, yeah." John waved dismissively, eyes locked forward. "Sleeps been shite." he grumbles, the soft admission of which seemed exhaustingly difficult.

"Night terrors?" His low voice rumbled, sometimes he hated it, how he was never able to sound tender through the years of aggressive screaming during battle.

John pauses for a moment, a hollow look falling over his features. The pair would often talk one on one, being each other's closest confidants, yet moments of sharing feelings were far and few in between. After seemingly mulling over all his possible responses he nods solemnly.

" 'bout drowning. Every night." John states, emotion devoid of the statement as if he were stating a plain fact. "It's foolishness." He grumbles, shaking his head as a soft red blushes his cheeks. Simon sucked in a sharp breath, thinking over the Captain's confession.

"What did you see in the cave?" It had slipped out, the question falling from his lips the second it had crossed his mind, leaving a tense feeling hanging in the air. The waves began to curl beside them, the intensity of the waves increasing slowly, soft drizzle still bouncing off the ground.

"Just her, nothing else." He states, breaking the strained quiet. "She looked tired, like she had been crying for days, ghostly. Thought I was havin' a heart attack runnin' back to the ship, had myself convinced she was a banshee... I don't believe in all that spiritual nonsense- but in our profession it makes me wonder." John pauses, sucking in a breach of air as he thought.

"Think of the terrors we've pulled from the ocean-" Simon's mind darts through his large arsenal of memories, ones that span over decades on the ship. The two of them had killed creatures with mouths so large it could sallow their boat whole, creatures from so deep that their bodies would swell and bloat at the surface. They had pulled up giant squids, indescribable monsters, things that looked too vaguely human to put soundly out of mind. They had killed the unimaginable, yet still believed monsters and ghouls to be nothing more then talltales

"Why couldn't something like that live up here with us?" His voice dwindled at the end, faltering into uncertainty. "Not sayin' I think she's a sea monster, I probably scared the shit out of her as much as she did me." He raises his hands in mock surrender, a strained smile tugging at his lips. The two men ventured off the beach and down an old, seemingly fairly used dirt road leading further into the island.

"Used to have dreams bout' drowning too." Simon confessed, eyes scanning diligently over the empty fields in front of him. The further from the shore you got, the more trees there would be, scattered sparsely.

"Is she ever the one doing it?" John asks, voice almost timid with embarrassment. The two men slow to a stop under the hanging branches of a weeping willow, a crumbling stone wall lining this side of the trail. His eyes crinkle, the deep purple bags becoming more clear as the sun began to peek through the clouds.

"No."

John simply nods, eyes glazing over as his eyes fixated anywhere but Ghost. He takes a deep breath, gulping down the tinge of guilt that ran through his throat.

"It'll make me feel better to see for myself that she's just a woman, then I can stop thinkin' about dying again. Get back to being a drunk bastard." The Captain chuckles warmly, attempting to move the conversation somewhere more comfortable.

"She holds me." Simon blurts out, the secret bubbling to the surface finally as it spills out against his will. John's face contorts into confusion.

"She what?" He asks, the look in his eyes making Simon wish he had never engaged with this in the first place.

"She... holds me. She'll hold me above water and... talk to me. I don't remember exactly when it started, it hasn't stopped."

John pauses for a moment, eyes fixated on Ghost's face covering, in moments like these where he could feel his face burning he was grateful for the thing.

"That's why you wanted to find her?" He asks, all the sternness on his face melting away, there was a stark difference between Captain John Price and Simon's dear friend John, human moments like these confirmed it to him. Simon gives a slow, soft nod, just enough for John to understand. He lets out a soft chuckle before grabbing Simon's shoulder and shaking him gently.

"That's nuts mate."

Simon blows out a loud huff, taking a step back as John chuckles more shaking his head. "What's the plan then?" He crosses his arms over his chest, leaning his body against the mossy stone wall beside them. Under the shelter of the hanging branches there was decent cover from the rain, only a few droplets managing to sneak down and land on either of the two.

In all honestly, Simon hadn't particularly thought that far ahead yet, he supposes he'll know when the time comes, but a set plan would be helpful.

"Find her." He states plainly, John can't help but roll his eyes at the dullness of the response.

"Yeah? Then what?" John questions, his tone shifting to one more serious again.

"Keep her, love her, finally."

taglist: @blueoorchid @@hoe4myers @yjhariani @lexi-zsy09 @galaxieshearme @tumblinginoz @icepancakes @iluvweasleys (if i forgot you just let me know)

#simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #ghost x reader #mw2 x reader #cod mw2 au #cod x reader #mw2 fanfic #x father neptune #x codmw2 ff #x my posts

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loveharlow · 2 years

Text

WICKED

PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS ‧₊˚ [1.6k] Even though they called it quits months ago, JJ and Y/N just can't seem to leave each other alone, no matter who gets caught in the crossfire.

WARNING(S) ‧₊˚ swearing, they're both assholes in this, sexual references, mentions of/use of alcohol, toxic relationship, mild violence (drink throwing and literally one punch), slut shaming, mild dark themes

A/N ‧₊˚ Ooooh shiiit. I don't where this idea came from but I just needed more Dark!Reader in my life where the reader is this self-serving, bitch because I rarely ever see it. Also DISCLAIMER: I don't support that (unless necessary...), I'm joking! (Or am i?)

˗ˏˋ jj masterlist ˎˊ˗

YOU WERE LAUGHING INTERNALLY. JJ Maybank had truly lost his mind if he thought the girl currently planted in his lap had even the smallest chance of making you jealous. Unfortunately for him, he was oh-so sorely mistaken. You knew who the blonde was the second you saw her. She’d dated half the guys on the island and was a regular touron.

Last you heard they were dating, JJ and her. Summer fling type thing.

You were loitering by a tree, sipping on whatever was in the red solo cup in your hand, wearing the one dress you knew drove the blonde twenty feet away from you crazy. It was a birthday gift from him.

You were sure you were staring — glaring, more accurately. But you didn't care.

“Don’t do anything stupid.” An assertive feminine voice spoke from beside you. The slight brush of light brown hair in your peripheral revealing the girl to you without requiring you to turn your head.

Chuckling, the sound echoing into your cup, you tilted your head up to continue staring daggers into the side of JJ’s head as you spoke to my best friend. “I won’t, Kie.”

“You say that every time and you still find some way to do something so…”

Raising one perfect eyebrow, a sly smirk edging it’s way onto your lips, you made some move to face her. “So what?”

She had a deadpan expression. “So you.”

You feigned hurt, cringing as she rolled her eyes and took a sip from her own cup. "Don't be such a downer. I can be a good girl for one night."

She simply scoffed and you could see her shake her head in the corner of your eye as she let her back fall against the tree as well. Your mood dampened as you swished the alcohol in your cup around while watching the girl plant kisses on JJ's cheek.

Your lips curling into a disgusted snarl as you made a gagging sound. "Oh, fuck me." I muttered, repulsed. Kie let out a sigh as I tried to mask the anger that was bubbling.

Kiara knew very well of the dynamic between JJ and yourself. You had been dating on and off for about 2 years but this break-up had lasted longer than the rest, bordering on three months now. However, she knew just how tightly you each other wrapped the other's finger.

You loved each other but were both so terrible at showing it. So you decided if he wanted to have his little fun with this moron on his lap for the night then fine. But at the end of the day, your mind reminded you that it’s always going to be you and him.

So, when the touron in question was stumbling off of his lap and over to the keg that wasn’t too far away, your own cup was downed, tossed, and forgotten. Abandoned to the sand as you straightened out your dress and Kiara made protests behind you, reaching out to grasp onto your upper arm before she was gently shrugged off.

Turning back to her with a mischievous smile that told her everything she needed to know, you winked and set off in the direction of your ex-boyfriend who was finally sitting alone.

Propping yourself into the chair next to him, you could see his jaw clench before he even looked at you.

You turned so you was facing him — one leg crossed over the other as your elbows rested upon the arm of the chair and your face rested in your palms. “Why so tense? Are you not having a good time?”

He now had a cigarette in his hand as he brought it up to his lips. He knew you couldn't stand the smell of them.

You admired him from the side for a few moments and drew your attention behind him. About fifteen feet away, his little 'girlfriend' was struggling to figure out how to use the keg.

If she was anyone else, you would help. But as of right now? She was kind of stepping on your toes. Not that she had a chance of whisking JJ away from you. Never. She was just in the way, making things more difficult than usual, and quite frankly, you wanted her gone.

So, she could struggle. You couldn’t care less. There are other poor souls at this party that would help her out, you were sure.

Averting your gaze away from her and back to JJ, you noticed something. Reaching your hand up to his hair when he suddenly gripped your nimble wrist just as you'd pinched the object between your fingers.

“What the hell are you doing?” Tilting your head down and plastering an unamused expression on your features, you struggled against his grip to bring your hand down and into his line of vision, a small brown leaf clasped between your fingers. Then, he was rolling his eyes and releasing your wrist while you made to throw the leaf to the ground.

Suddenly growing bored of this company-keeping game, your head rested in your hands as you whistled and looked around, ultimately deciding to take initiative. Reaching over and snatching the disgusting stick from his fingers, you threw it to the sand and stepped on it as you rose from your own chair to round his and plant yourself on his lap.

He spat your name, a hard expression on his face. Jaw tense, veins popping in his neck.

“For someone who wants me to go away so bad, you seem to enjoy my company.” You spoke cockily, motioning to his hands that were already subconsciously grasping your hips.

“Why do you always do this?” He spat angrily, looking into your eyes that were wide — innocent. Your hands were over his shoulders and playing with the hairs at the back of his neck. “Why do you make it so hard for me to move on?” He hissed, his blue eyes raging with a passionate fire behind them.

“Why do you make me chase you?” You snarled, your seductive nature quickly flipping into one of frustration as your gentle touch switched to one where your hands were fisting into the back of his hair to pull his gaze further up. Your eyes setting into a stone-cold glare as you clenched your teeth.

However, no matter how negative of an emotion you were displaying, your face always held some kind of innocence to it. Maybe that's what gave you the upper hand in this whole ordeal — the fact that he, nor anyone else, could ever tell what you were really feeling. Because that means you were a little less predictable than you thought.

You truly hated when JJ had to see this side of you — the part of you that lived and breathed for him. The part of you that wouldn't let him go.

But for some reason, you felt that, tonight? He deserved it all.

“You’re jealous. And possessive. And I don’t know how to handle you.” He gritted through his teeth, his own hands now on your thighs as he gripped onto them harshly, his short nails leaving moon-shaped marks in his wake.

“You’re wrong.” You said softly, your demeanor doing a complete 180 as your deadly glare went from that to one of innocence. Your fists loosening in his blonde locs and trailing back down his neck all the way down to his chest, stopping right above the waistband of his shorts. Leaning in so your lips were centimeters from his ear. “You're the only one who can." You whispered, not giving him a moment to reply as your lips dove for his neck, leaving harsh, biting kisses in the crook of it.

You could hear him biting back moans, his neck flexing under your lips as his grip on your thighs tightened, a burning sensation starting to make itself known between your legs and an erection growing prominent underneath you.

“Do you love me, JJ?” You spoke tantalizingly, even though you knew the answer.

“I do.” He croaked out, leaning back to give you better access as you continued to leave kisses. “I shouldn’t, but I do.”

“Then say it.”

...

“I love you.”

Smiling and cupping his cheek. “I know.” You remarked, leaning in to rest your forehead against his own. "Now, get rid of that Ms. Lips-A-Lot before I do it myself." You muttered lowly before roughly clashing your lips with his — the taste of alcohol, fruit, and cigarettes remaining ever present in the exchange. Biting your bottom lip to separate it from the top as he pulled your frame closer, if even possible.

You started to slowly grind yourself against him, earning a guttural yet low moan into the kiss as he slightly bucked his hips. Enough movement to get friction between you two but not to be noticed by the entire party. Though, if someone did happen to notice, it wouldn't stop either of you.

“What the hell?”

Breaking the kiss slowly, the blonde girl that JJ had waltzed in here with was now standing near you both. A thin and barely visible string of saliva still connecting you to him as your hair framed your face, seeing as it was held down to hide the smirk on your face as the girl was looming over both of you, fuming.

Your only goal was to stake your claim and get her to back off by any means necessary. What ever happened afterward would be none of your concern as long as she was out of the way, and soon. You didn't care if that meant her leaving the island or deciding to stay in her hotel the rest of her trip, wallowing in a summer heartbreak.

So as far as tonight goes, your job was done. You weren't going to taunt her or twist the knife any further. She'd seen everything she needed to and everything you wanted her to.

Getting off of JJ’s lap, he'd tried to hold you in place but ultimately let you go. You made no moves to acknowledge the girl as you wiped your bottom lip and set off back to where you were moments prior, also where Kiara happened to still be standing and staring at me with a look of disapproval.

You were a few feet away, at most, before you heard the girl mutter something under her breath.

“Fucking slut.” JJ must’ve sensed what you was going to do before you did it because you don’t even recall turning around, hearing him begin to say “Don’t”, before you was snatching the girl’s own cup out of her hand, splashing it in her face and reeling your free hand back, swinging it forward to sock her in the nose, the harsh connect making an audible crunching sound.

The party's attention was stolen for a few seconds as 'oohs' and curses rang out through the crowd and the girl stumbled on the sand.

You weren't going to take it much further than that. You spent too much time on your hair and outfit to mess it up for some girl who wouldn’t be on this island after summer was over. So as, what you presume were her friends attended to her bleeding nose and shouted obscenities at you, you threw the cup to the ground and turned right back in the direction you were headed in the first place.

But not before stopping next to JJ, who had his jacket that was previously slung over his chair on his lap to hide his very visible boner, and planting a hand on his forearm. “Door’s open. Parents are gone for the week.” You proclaimed, walking off after flashing the blonde a smile.

A/N: Touron: Fucking slut

Y/N: You raise the phone, take a fast step back, step forward, step back, and swing!

LMAO IF YOU GET THE REFERENCE IM SO SORRY^

General taglist;@livlaughquinn

JJ Maybank Taglist; @ronnieissupermegafoxyawesomehot @maybankslover

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

©loveharlow

#jj maybank x you #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank #obx jj #jj maybank x reader #obx jj x reader #rudy pankow x reader #rudy outer banks #rudy pankow #obx #obx fanfiction #obx netflix #jj mayback x reader #jj mayback imagine #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank angst #jj maybank x y/n

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ampresandian · 7 months

Text

My (unofficial) PJO season 2 episode 5 script part 3/4 (part 1 | part 2)

I think towards the end of this section my lack of screenwriting experience becomes more apparent but I had a vision and tried to paint the picture probably a little too much so sorry if you're an actor/screenwriter and it looks/reads weird.

Images of script and copied text (bc I'm lazy and don't want to write out alt text) under the cut, just in case I didn't tag enough spoiler warning or people aren't interested <3

Annabeth Tries to Swim Home

MATCH CUT TO: INT. DARK VICTORIAN HOUSE – NIGHT.

Continuation of first scene/flashback. YOUNG ANNABETH is still running down the hallway, but seems more determined.

Thunder shakes the windows as she runs down a staircase. She turns a corner into a sitting room. The chairs are upturned, feathers coming out of the pillows all over the floor. A draft comes in from the dark fireplace, whistling with the storm.

Annabeth stops in the middle of the room, facing the three doors that she has to choose from. They look the same.

Hearing heavy footsteps, she opens the leftmost door, closing it quickly behind her. Breathing heavily, she presses her back to the door.

Looking around the room, Annabeth finds herself in an orangery, the glass pelted by rain. Two of the large windows were cracked, spiderwebs expanding from old sites of impact. A few dead fruit trees sit in one corner.

Through the cracks and the rain, Annabeth can see a light coming from a window several rooms down on the first floor of the house. Creeping closer, she presses her hand to the glass as she watches the light.

In another room, Annabeth can see the CYCLOPS, but not much of the room. He lifts his arm, raising THALIA into view from the window. She struggles, and he looks to be laughing. He sets her back down, bending down himself as well (to tie her up, off screen).

Turning from the window, Annabeth looks determined.

YOUNG ANNABETH: (quietly) Hang on, Thalia. I’m coming.

She leaves the orangery from the second door, leading to a less Victorian hallway, one that would have been a servants’ corridor a few centuries ago. The walls look to be made of clay, and the floor is uneven in places. She nearly trips.

Annabeth creeps through an open door, entering a dark room with a long table and walls lined with cupboards. China is smashed on the floor, half the cupboard doors open and hanging by hinges all along the room. Ahead, there’s an open door, light spilling through.

Annabeth approaches, looking through to see a large room that used to be a kitchen, a large broken stove and Victorian era cookware off to one side. In the middle of the room is a raging fire. There are bones all over the floor.

Near the stove sit THALIA, LUKE, and GROVER, tied up. Luke has a large gash at his hairline, but they seem mostly unharmed. Annabeth follows their eyes to see the large Cyclops in the middle of the room, near the fire. He is already looking at her, grinning.

CUT TO: EXT. QUEEN ANNE’S REVENGE – DAY

PERCY is on deck, steering the ship through the sea. ANNABETH appears behind him, coming up from the cabin below.

PERCY: (turning to look at her) Hey. How did you sleep?

ANNABETH: Fine. I-- (pointing) Percy. Look.

In the distance, a lush island can be seen, meadows and forest on one side, cliffs and beach on the other.

ANNABETH (CONT): Are we...?

PERCY: (nodding) 30, 31, 75, 12. That’s it.

They look out at the island, closer now. Annabeth points towards a large tree.

ANNABETH: The Fleece.

PERCY: What’s protecting it? There’s no way it’s as easy as just going up there and taking it.

ANNABETH: There should be... Jason had to fight a dragon in the story. It should have a guardian of some sort.

As they watch, one of the large sheep visible on the island breathes fire, setting the grass in front of it aflame. The fire quickly dies, leaving brown grass that turns back to green and vibrant as they watch.

ANNABETH (CONT): The Fleece must keep the island unburned.

PERCY: So when we take it, it’ll just burn?

ANNABETH: (gasping) Percy, look!

On the beach is a small boat, just like the one they escaped the CSS Birmingham on.

PERCY: That’s the other lifeboat. You don’t think...

ANNABETH: (grim) We’ll never be able to get through those sheep. Sail around to the cliffs.

CUT TO: EXT. POLYPHEMUS’ ISLAND – DAY.

Cliffs and sea sparkle in frame. The Queen Anne’s Revenge sails into view around the cliffs, stopping at the base of them. Percy and Annabeth are on deck looking up at the cliffs, a little apprehensive.

ANNABETH: Come on. It’ll be just like the climbing wall back at camp.

PERCY: That’s what I’m worried about.

Annabeth glares at him. Percy readies himself.

PERCY (CONT): Okay. Let’s go.

Percy moves towards the cliffs, as if to start climbing.

ANNABETH: I’m going first.

PERCY: What? Why?

Annabeth rolls her eyes and begins climbing. Percy makes a sarcastic gesture and follows.

Percy and Annabeth climb the cliffs, steadily making their way up. Percy mostly follows the path Annabeth takes.

ANNABETH: Watch out here.

Percy chooses a slightly different path at her warning.

Suddenly, Percy’s hand slips. He dangles from the cliff by one hand. With the sideways motion, RIPTIDE falls out of his pocket, landing in the sea below. Percy looks down before refocusing on the cliff, finding another handhold.

ANNABETH (CONT): Are you okay?

PERCY: (looking down) Yeah. Let’s go.

ANNABETH: What was that?

PERCY: Nothing. It’ll come back. (turning back to the cliff) Let’s go.

They continue climbing, starting back up a little slower than they were before.

Nearly at the top, Annabeth’s foot slips.

ANNABETH: Oh!

She flounders before finding a foothold on Percy’s head. She rebalances.

PERCY: Ah!

Percy tries to remain still, supporting her in spite of his surprise. Annabeth moves her foot back to the cliff.

ANNABETH: Sorry.

PERCY: It’s okay.

ANNABETH: Sorry.

Annabeth reaches the top of the cliff, pulling herself over. She turns back and helps Percy up too. Percy goes to speak, but Annabeth puts her hand over his mouth to stop him.

They move to the edge of the ledge they are on, peering down into a cavern below. Through the crack, they can see POLYPHEMUS, GROVER in his wedding dress, a large fire in the middle of the floor, and CLARISSE, tied up.

CLARISSE: (struggling) Give me back my sword and I’ll fight you!

POLYPHEMUS: Well, bride? Should we eat her now, or save her for wedding feast tonight?

Grover flounders, nearly tripping over his dress.

CLARISSE: Bride? Do you mean Grover?

ANNABETH: (whisper) Shut up, Clarisse.

POLYPHEMUS: What is a ‘Grover?’

CLARISSE: The satyr? He’s right there.

GROVER: Oh, dear, her poor brain is boiling, you have to--

CLARISSE: In the wedding dress!

Polyphemus turns to Grover and pulls off the wedding veil, revealing his horns. Grover exclaims.

POLYPHEMUS: I don’t see so well. Not since Nobody stabbed me in eye. But you. Are no lady Cyclops!

Grover cries out as Polyphemus swipes at him.

GROVER: Oh, stop! Don’t eat me raw!

POLYPHEMUS: (pausing, holding up a boulder) Eat you raw?

GROVER: Oh, no, I’ll taste awful! I have a recipe! I’ll taste much better grilled, with mango chutney!

POLYPHEMUS: Mango chutney?

GROVER: Yes, yes. You have mangos right out there, in the forest. I’ll just wait here. You go gather them.

Polyphemus considers, before turning to Clarisse.

POLYPHEMUS: Grilled satyr. You are one too?

CLARISSE: No, you overgrown pile of dung! I am the daughter of Ares! Untie me so I can rip your arms off!

POLYPHEMUS: Rip my arms off.

CLARISSE: And stuff them down your throat! Let me down!

POLYPHEMUS: You got spunk. Have to graze sheepies now. Wedding after, with grilled satyr for the feast!

GROVER: You’re... Still getting married?

Polyphemus looks at Clarisse.

PERCY: (quietly, from above) Ew.

Polyphemus gathers his sheep, throwing the door to the cave open as Clarisse understands.

CLARISSE: Oh, no, you cannot be serious. Absolutely--

POLYPHEMUS: I come back at sundown for the big event!

He seals the cave, mumbling about mangos as he walks down the mountain with his sheep.

ANNABETH: (exchanging a glance with Percy) Come on. I have a plan.

(PART 4)

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tracybirds · 9 months

Text

I know I said this yesterday but it's beginning to feel like Christmas for real with my Sydney family having arrived! I was SO happy to see them last night and we're hanging out all day today and I haven't seen them since before covid so this is the most special thing!! Thank you to @gumnut-logic for reading through the first part of it, although I must admit to running wild this morning with the last part so any weirdness there you can blame squarely on me haha <3

[Day 1] | [Day 2] | [Day 3 - you are here]

Five Days Where Christmas Didn't Seem To Go As Planned

Day Three

Gordon shoved Alan’s shoulder roughly as he walked past, causing Alan to yelp as he overbalanced, nearly falling out of the chair.

“Gordon, play nicely,” said Virgil, frowning.

Typically, Gordon ignored him, tapping his brother’s cheek.

Alan groaned. It had been a long night, called out in the early evening only to return home as the sun peeked over the horizon once more.

“It’s comfy here,” he muttered, turning to nestle his cheek into the curved edge of the chair.

“Yeah, sure bud,” said Gordon, rolling his eyes. “Come on, let’s go Al, those showers have our names on ‘em.”

Virgil yawned.

“I can carry you if you like,” he offered, perfectly earnest.

Alan’s eyes flew open. “I’m coming, I’m coming,” he grumbled. “Kayo laughed at me for a week the last time, don’t you dare pick me up.”

He dragged himself across the cockpit, staring blankly into thin air in a daze. Preoccupied with the thought of a hot shower and a morning nap with the sea breeze flowing through with windows, he hardly noticed the figure waiting for them impatiently as the hydraulic lift lowered them into the hangar.

“Scott?” asked Virgil, and Alan snapped back to attention. He’d expected Scott to vanish long before Two made it back to Tracy Island, with no issues that arose during the mission and debrief scheduled for later that day.

Freshly focused, Alan could tell that something wasn’t right, enough that Scott had waited for them and was now speaking urgently to them all. Alan blinked, trying to shape the sounds into words, and it was only when he yawned widely and his ear popped that things fell into place.

“I just needed to head you off before you head upstairs,” said Scott, looking mildly disgusted. “I got out of the elevator and had to come straight back down, it was only luck that she didn’t spot me.”

“Well, we’re all experts in hiding from Grandma and her baking now,” said Gordon, grinning. “Hey Virg, let’s go crash in Brains’ rooms, he’s been wanting to marathon those old school scifi-horrors.” He wriggled his fingers at Virgil. “Oooh, I’m a space alien here to take over your mind. Go forth, do my laundry for a week.”

“He’ll uninvite you if you’re going to be annoying about it,” said Virgil, with a long-suffering sigh. “Thanks for the warning, Scott. We’ll stay low for a few hours.”

Alan, meanwhile, was thinking hard.

He swayed a little, fighting the temptation to close his eyes, searching every scrap of memory, because something about what Scott was describing sounded uncomfortably close to home.

“Grandma’s been baking?”

Scott and Virgil exchanged a glance.

“Keep up, Al,” said Gordon impatiently.

Only Alan had one piece of information that his brothers didn’t.

When the siren had gone off and they’d gathered in the living room, Alan had been baking cookies for Christmas. He’d meant for it to be a surprise.

And he’d turned the oven off, he was sure of it, even through a distorted haze of exhaustion, he could remember the temperature dial spinning under his fingers before he raced upstairs, but maybe it hadn’t gone all the way and even as they’d flown out, his cookies were slowly starting to brown, then blacken into a crisp.

He could have burnt the house down.

He sat down suddenly, right there on the floor.

“Alan!” cried three voices, and he batted them away.

“You’ve gone white as a sheet,” said Virgil, frowning as he crouched next to him. He reached out a hand, feeling for his forehead and Alan rolled his eyes.

“Get off me, I’m just tired,” he said, feeling slightly sick. He couldn’t let them find out, he needed to get out of here.

“Look, Grandma won’t ambush me like this, she’ll just want me in bed. Which is where I want to be too, so if you guys want to hide away instead, be my guest.”

He wasn’t even lying, and he rubbed at the grit forming in his eyes, allowing a yawn to take over his entire body.

“I’ll take you,” said Scott reluctantly, and Alan felt a twinge of irritation twitching below his eye.

“You don’t need to escort me,” he snapped, getting back to his feet. “I can manage it.”

He scowled at each of them, putting as much fierceness into the glare as he could.

For a second, he thought Scott and Virgil would continue to argue, but Gordon leapt in before they had the chance.

“You guys promised you’d treat him like an adult when he’s wearing the uniform,” he reminded them. “Are either of you going to start volunteering to be supervised in the shower and tucked in tight? I’ll do it, I don’t care.”

Alan shot Gordon a grateful look.

“I’m going to bed then,” said Alan, and he spun on his heel and walked slowly and calmly towards the elevator door.

That is to say, he bolted.

When the doors next opened, Alan found Scott hadn’t been kidding about the smell, the smoke still evident despite the air being cleared.

He ran down the steps two at a time, holding his breath as he skidded into the kitchen.

Kayo looked up from the magazine she’d been reading and put it aside.

“So,” she said. “These are yours. I’m assuming they’re not chocolate.”

She swung around a plate of dark brown cookies, burnt black where the butter had melted onto the tray while baking.

Alan collapsed onto the barstool next to her.

“Is it bad?”

Kayo shrugged. “They’re just burnt. Nothing major.” She grinned, her eyes sharp and mischievous. “I saw Scott making his escape earlier. Did he come down to warn you all away?”

Alan could only nod miserably.

“Do you think it’s genetic?” he asked. “I just wanted to do something nice.”

“The only thing you did wrong was not pull the tray from the oven when you turned it off,” Kayo said cheerfully. She chose one of the cookies and neatly broke it in half. “See? They’re not burnt burnt, they’re just a tad overdone. I spotted them when Grandma was preheating the oven earlier and rescued them for you.”

Alan lifted his head, hope stirring in his chest. “So, the smoke?”

“Oh, that was all Grandma.” She bit into the end of the cookie and pulled a face. “These aren’t that great either, if I’m being honest.”

“Well, thanks,” said Alan, feeling stung. He yawned. “I suppose we should just chuck them then.”

“We can probably save them for something,” said Kayo. “Make them into ornaments or something.”

She jostled his shoulder. “What’s up though, Al? You didn’t come racing up here because of bad biscuits.”

“I kinda did,” said Alan. “I dunno, I thought maybe a fire had started. Like if something went wrong here, it’d be all my fault.” He yawned again. “I guess that seems silly.”

Kayo slung an arm around him, pulling him into a hug.

“We can handle your mistakes, Alan. Best part of being one of the youngest is everyone else has already made them and they’ll help you out. It’s not all on you.”

“Does that mean the others have all nearly burnt the house down?”

She grinned down at him. “Oh, the stories I could tell if I weren’t sworn to secrecy.”

Alan grinned back, a spark of mischief shaking off the bleariness momentarily. “I can keep a secret. Was it Virgil? John?”

“You’re getting nothing out of me,” said Kayo with a laugh. “Go to bed, Alan. We’ll fix these when you can sit in that chair without falling onto your face.”

He slipped down from the stool and stumbled, the sway of exhaustion rushing up to meet him once more.

“I might need a little help,” he admitted. “Promise you won’t tell Scott?”

Kayo mimed locking her lips and smiled at him, fond and warm.

“I promise.”

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danceswithsporks · 1 year

Text

Warm- Part 2

Part 1 of 6 in the Complete Series!

Part 1 Part 3

Tech x Reader

Warnings: Talk of home destruction, that’s about it.

About: The times come for Tech to finally get some good tea..and maybe a something sweet as well.

Warm, the exact temperature that Tech enjoyed his tea at. Too cold and it lost its flavor, too hot and it was undrinkable. His lips pursed as he gently sipped the Oolong tea you’d made for him. The raspberry and rose flavors tickled his tongue in a rather nice way. You’d recommended it to him, you’d recommended quite a bit to him since that day.

Brown eyes watched as you flitted back and forth across the patio. How you seemed to float, no not float, dance your way through the tables and chairs. Tables and chairs were packed to the brim with other customers, mainly men. The tea shop had reopened ten rotations prior and on that day Tech had realized just how popular you seemed to be. Men seemed to frequent your tea shop just to observe you, their tea going untouched in the process.

The first day had been interesting to see. One after the other the men would call you to their table for a refill or to order something to eat. You’d smile brightly at them before retrieving their items. The entire time you’d been watched by every other male in the shop. If you noticed then you didn’t let on. You never stayed at one table for longer than you had to. The only time you’d stopped for more than a few seconds, was for him.

A gentle smile rested on your lips as you carefully brushed a piece of hair behind your ear and explained the menu to him. Your soft finger ran across the illuminated screen of the menu. “ You can pick your base tea here and then…” With a tap of your finger, the screen slid to the side, revealing countless fruits and flowers that could be added. “Here you can pick what flavors you want to be added. We carry just about all types. Though my father has been talking with a farmer on a different island who grows tea leaves. So we may be getting some new flavors in soon.”

“Fascinating.” He’d replied. Tech enjoyed a nice cup of tea after a long mission. But with such little space on the Marauder, he was only allotted just enough space for one type. Flat black tea. “Which would you recommend?”

His question had taken you by surprise. Not surprised that you were being asked your opinion, all of the men asked your opinion, but that he had asked. Someone like him, who traveled the galaxy and went to far-off planets. Who no doubt had sampled cuisine from all types of cultures. Once again you felt your heart flutter like a butterfly was nestled comfortably inside it. “It’s so nice today, perhaps a cool-me-down tea?”

Tech raised an eyebrow at you, confused by the name of the drink. “Is it chilled? I am not the biggest fan of chilled tea.” From his experience, tea was bland and tasteless when it was cold. Far too many times had he forgotten his tea on the console of his cockpit, just to return to an ice-cold drink. One of the problems with having such a busy mind, once something was out of sight it was out of mind. He watched as you tilted your head forward and giggled softly.

“It’s not chilled.” You smiled as you tapped the menu screen and a description was brought up. It explained the temperature that the drink was brewed and how long it steeped. “It's a green tea with lemon verbena, licorice, and peppermint in it. So it’s refreshing and relaxing. Kind of like when people drink water with cucumbers or lemon in it.”

“I have never understood the appeal of water with fruits or vegetables floating in it.” Tech continued to look through the menu, impressed by how in-depth it went. It seemed a considerable amount of thought had gone into its creation. Looking up at you he took a moment to study your features. How your hair fell around your shoulders, the way your eyelashes fluttered as you laughed at the children running by. Your plump lips curved upward in a beautiful smile and he was reminded of the kiss under the water. It seemed so long ago now, though it had only been 7 rotations prior. Your lips moved as you said something and he realized he’d been staring at you. Unaware of what you said, he simply nodded.

Whenever he said something like that it always made you smile. You’d seen him around a lot while your family rebuilt. So much had been lost during the tsunami. It had taken a day for the waters to recede and when it did your home had almost been destroyed. So you and your family had camped beneath the large tree at the top of the island for another day. With the help of the Batch, that was what they called themselves, your home had been fixed quickly.

Tech had stopped by once after your home had been finished, ready to take your father up on his offer for tea. You’d turned him away quickly, citing that you didn’t have anything besides black tea and you wanted his first tea from you to be perfect. He’d seemed to be surprised by that, even stating that black tea would be fine. You’d put your foot down that it wasn’t. Now here you were, two weeks later and his first tea from you. “Next time I’ll make you some and you’ll see, it’s very nice on the longer days. For now, how about that tea and some macarons?” It took him a moment to answer you and you worried you’d said something wrong. But then he nodded and your heart fluttered once more. “Ok. That’ll be out soon, Tech.”

Something in his eye twinkled as you said his name and you felt your breath catch. One of the things you’d thoroughly enjoyed about seeing him so often was his eyes. Eyes that his brothers and sister had. But his eyes made you feel warm in a way you couldn’t describe. You’d asked your father what it felt like to like someone, to have…a crush.

“When I met your mother, she was working in your grandfather's pastry stall. She was beautiful, with eyes that pulled you in and made you feel safe and a smile that lit up the darkest nights.” A sigh came from your father as he stared out at the ocean.

“Did Mom feel the same way about you?” You loved hearing stories about your parents' younger years. To you, they were the perfect couple, married thirty long years with hardly ever an argument. They always seemed so madly in love, even during the dark times.

Your father shook his head with a deep chuckle. “Hardly. Took me asking her out four times before she finally agreed. When I asked her why it took so long, she stated it was my beard. She didn’t like it.”

Seeing as your father had worn a beard your entire life, you felt something changed. As if sensing your inquiry, your father continued. “Ended up shaving it off right before our first date. She hated me without it even more. Said that she felt cold the first time we kissed. After that I never shaved again, just took better care of it. By the time we got married a year later, it had grown back and she loved it.”

“But why?” It didn’t make that much sense to you. “Your beard tickles me. Is that what she meant?”

“You’ll understand more when you meet the right person. But your mother said it made her feel safe, happy, and warm. Just like her smile did for me.” He hoped you’d experience that one day. The warmth someone made you feel inside. How they seemed to make everything better, even in the darkest of times.

Maybe this was what he’d meant? How Tech made you feel warm inside whenever he said your name or looked at you. You’d only seen a small smile here and there, but you adored it. It was that smile you thought about as you made his tea. Then you made it again, and once more. It had to be perfect, his first tea made by you and you’d be damned if it wasn’t just right. You searched through countless macarons in search of the perfect ones. No flattened tops or uneven bottoms. One had too little filing and the other had too much. Maybe he’d like the nut one? Or maybe the berry one? After more time than it should have taken, you finally found the perfect ones and arranged them on a tray for him.

Stepping out of the kitchen, you realized it had gotten quite a bit more packed. No matter, you’d just be extra careful making your way over to him.

Tech had been so lost in his datapad that he hadn’t even noticed the shop had become busier until the sound died down. It was like every person there was waiting for you to show up. He watched you balance the tray perfectly as you wiggled through the crowds. Just barely missing bumping into a table here, and ducking under someone’s hand there. The way you’d done it made him think you’d done this your entire life. You’d been doing beautifully until you tripped over someone’s satchel on the ground. Reacting far faster than he thought he could, he caught you.

The satchel had caught you by surprise. Usually, you’d recover perfectly but you’d been so entranced with how Tech was looking at you that you’d stumbled a bit too much. All the hard work you’d done to have his tea perfect and find the perfect macarons was about to go out the window. But then you felt familiar arms around you once more. Here he was again, saving you. The tea sloshed just a bit and you let out a sad sigh. “Damn”

“You seem to have a tendency to stumble. Perhaps you are suffering from an inner ear infection?” They tended to make people lose their balance. Your swear didn’t go unnoticed by him and looking down at the spilled tea Tech smirked. Helping you stand up, Tech took the tray and placed it down. What was that saying? No point in crying over spilled milk? “It seems the tea missed the macarons.” Looking back at you, he reached up and brushed some hair out of your face. “Are you ok?”

Stars, here he was again. Looking at you like you were a fragile doll. Your cheeks felt on fire as he brushed the hair from your face. Could he see how red they were? “I’m ok.” Not really but you couldn’t exactly tell him that your heart was beating as fast as a speeder or that his hand near your face was so warm that you wanted to bury your face into it.

There was that feeling in his heart again. Like some kind of animal was making a break for it inside his stomach. What was it about this situation that was giving him that reaction? The weather was perfect, the air smelled fine, and he hadn't eaten anything out of the ordinary. What was different? Was it the red creeping across your cheeks? Or how your chest seemed to be raising and lowering faster than normal. Your cheek was so warm, something inside of him was making him want to hold it.

You chewed your lip carefully before clearing your throat. “Your tea will be getting cold.”

Tech swallowed at the site of you chewing your bottom lip. “I should drink it then.” Forcing himself to pull away from you, he instead found the teacup.

You should step away from him, and get back to your duties. No doubt the tables around you needed refills and you’d made a bit of a mess in the kitchen that needed cleaning up. “I’ll leave you to it then. Thank you…for saving me again, Tech.”

Turning to make your escape you found your older brother walking towards you. “Sorry, I was about to head back.”

He waved his hand at you as he cleared a recently vacated table. “Dad said to take your break now.” Had he been sent to keep an eye on you two? Perhaps. But he’d do it from a distance and honesty? He didn’t expect Tech to try anything, unlike the other men around you.

“Oh.” Well, that was nice of your father. “I’ll go ahead and grab something from the kitchen then.”

Tech sipped his tea carefully and hummed at the surprisingly delicious taste. Against the warm breeze coming from the ocean it cooled in a comfortable way he hadn’t expected. “You are welcome to join me for your break.” It seemed his mouth was once again speaking for him before his brain could stop it.

“That sounds wonderful.” Why must your mouth speak for you so often? You were about to apologize and state that you’d be fine eating in the kitchen when Tech smiled. It was brief, but it was there and oh, there was that warm feeling again. How could you possibly change your mind now? “I’ll go grab my tea and be back?”

“I got it. You relax.” Your brother moved faster than you’d honestly ever seen him move. Before you could say something he was gone. Looking back to Tech you found that he’d cleared the space next to him and was waiting for you to sit. Smiling softly, you took the seat. “Thank you.” You really should look into expanding your vocabulary with him.

You two sat next to each other in relative silence as you watched the sun begin to set. Your favorite time of the day. When the gradient of colors was so beautiful it was hard to find words for it. Your tea was delivered quickly and it didn’t go unnoticed that your two older brothers were now coincidentally cleaning tables near you. “Sorry about them. They can be a bit nosey.”

For the first time in a long time, Tech didn’t look at his datapad as he enjoyed the silence between you two. How you smiled as you sipped your tea and watched the sun go down. To him the colors were the same as many other planets, it was what the colors did to you that made him stop and appreciate it for once. Your eyes shined with the reflection of the setting light and he was able to truly appreciate the color of them. He’d noticed your eyes the day of the tsunami, but for some reason, at this moment they looked…brilliant.

He heard you apologize and with a chuckle he tilted his head to the right. “It seems our siblings share a common trait.”

Your eyes looked around in the direction that he’d motioned but you couldn’t see anything odd. Nor could you see his siblings. “They’re watching us?”

Tech nodded before pulling his datapad over and pulling up an image of Pabu. “Right about here.” He pointed to a few trees across the way. “I believe Omega is currently utilizing the upgraded binoculars I made her to spy on me.”

“You made her binoculars?” He could do everything, couldn’t he? When he nodded you sighed. “That’s amazing. I’m horrible with that kind of stuff.”

An eyebrow was raised as Tech took a bite of one of the macarons. A berry compote-filled one. Delicious. “Is that so? Your menu had me thinking otherwise.”

“I’m embarrassed to say how long that took me to figure out.” You fidgeted with your hands in your lap. The embarrassment made your cheeks warm up. “At one point I was finally done with it after hours of messing with it, and my datapad died. I lost all that hard work.” An annoyed sigh left your lips as you thought about that night. You’d nearly thrown your datapad out the window.

For once Tech was able to thoroughly think before speaking. “If you are interested, I could teach you a bit about this stuff.” He watched as your eyes lit up with pure excitement. Oh wow, he liked that. How fascinating.

“Are you sure? I know how busy you are, and I’d hate to intrude.” Every fiber of your being hoped he wouldn’t rescind his offer.

“As it stands, the tremor and tsunami sensors have been successfully upgraded. Power has been restored to the rest of the island and all boats have been equipped with depth sensors that will give us passive information on the tectonic plates that surround the island. I am a free man as it stands.” The movement of your brothers near you two didn’t go unnoticed by Tech, he was trained to notice the smallest details after all. It seemed they were waiting for you before they’d make a move.

The way he said ‘free man’ gave you the tingles all over. Swallowing you nodded as your bottom lip found its way between your teeth once more. “Then I’d like that a lot. How about after we close? Or is that too late?”

There it was again, that way you pulled your teeth into your bottom lip. How the corner of your lips pulled into a soft smile and your cheeks reddened. It made his chest feel warm once more and Tech realized he enjoyed that feeling. “After you close would work perfectly. I tend to stay up later than most so you do not need to worry.”

“Great. I’ll bring the tea.” You and Tech seemed to stare at each other for a while. A smile pulled at the corner of his lip and it was enough to make your cheeks burn.

It was your middle brother who broke the silence between you two. Whether you were happy or not that he did was hard to tell. “Hey, Dad needs your help with the next batch of macs.”

Nodding, you stood up and smiled back at Tech. “I’ll see you tonight then.”

Tech watched as you picked up both empty cups and made your way back to the kitchen. A fresh cup was delivered to him moments later, and a small bag of macarons wrapped perfectly for Omega as well. Her name was scrawled across the packaging in a flowy handwriting that reminded him of ocean waves. He wasn’t sure what compelled him to reach out and run his fingers across the dried ink, but he did. In a way, it was like touching a piece of you. The feeling of his heart racing once more made him finish his drink quickly. It was time he had a conversation with Hunter.

-*-

Hunter tried to process what Tech was saying to him. Somehow, in all the chaos of the last few months, he had become the one with the most experience with women on the ship. As such, Tech of all people was now information-dumping everything he’d been going through with you. Like how his heart seemed to have issues whenever you were around. How he felt warmer near you, comfortable. Tech described how you bit your lower lip earlier and both times he felt like something was fluttering in his stomach.

“Perhaps the perfume that she wears is causing an unintentional reaction?” Though when he tried to research his reactions he was unable to find anything useful.

Oh, how Hunter wished Echo or Cross were here to give advice. “It sounds like you like her, Tech.”

“Of course I like her. I would not bother entertaining someone in my free time if I did not like her.” This wasn’t new information to him. Even he could have deduced this much.

He was really going to have to break it down even more? Letting out a long sigh, Hunter figured out how he wanted to phrase all of this. “I mean more than an acquaintance. More in a romantic way.”

Oh, he liked you in a romantic way. It was an interesting thought. He’d been with women before but never for more than a night. An actual romantic relationship was a new concept to him. “What do you propose I do? Do you suppose she feels the same?”

Did you feel the same? Hunter couldn’t believe how naive his brother was. “You said she got excited when you offered to teach her more about tech?”

“Yes, as well as her heart rate increased by 32 percent. Her cheeks turned a shade of red and she bit her lip.” Armed with the new insight that he may be romantically interested in you, he now saw those actions differently.

“She likes ya, Tech. Just go with the flow and see where things lead.” His words fell on deaf ears as Tech was already lost in thought in all the little things you’d done earlier. Hunter smirked as he walked by Tech and patted his shoulder. Knowing his intellectual brother, the clone would now drown himself in research about dating and romantic relationships.

-*-

After that, you two fell into a happy routine. He’d visit while you worked and would take whatever tea you’d recommend. It was always something new paired with some kind of new pastry. Then he would pick you up after your shop closed and walk with you over to the sea wall where you’d listen to him explain whatever tech he was working with that day. You didn’t mean to but you’d hang on to every word he said, listening but never fully understanding what he was talking about.

Watching him get excited about whatever project he was working on or whatever he was teaching you about made your heart happy. During these times you'd truly get to see that smile of his. You hoped that it was because of you, but a part of you understood that it could simply be the joy of talking about his hobby. It didn’t matter either way though. He was enjoying himself.

It didn’t go unnoticed by Tech that you hung on his every word. That you tried your best to take diligent notes but always seemed to drift off. Perhaps you were a hands-on learner like himself? So he tried that route with you. Instead of lecturing you he pulled out some of his projects and showed them to you. Allowing you to physically touch them and take them apart. It seemed like you understood things a bit better. But on the ninth day, he realized you were staring.

“What is it? Do I have something on my face?” Reaching up he adjusted his goggles, concerned that part of his dinner was on his cheek or something.

With a smile on your lips, you shook your head carefully. “Just…you really like this kind of stuff, huh?”

Something he’d noticed over the early days of your lessons together was that he quite enjoyed your smile. According to Hunter, the feeling he was experiencing was called butterflies in his stomach. Unable to hide the warmth growing on his cheek, Tech cleared his throat and looked back at his project. “Of course. It is my area of expertise. I find it…calming.”

Were his cheeks actually red because of you? It felt like your heart was flipping. “I find the ocean calming. The way the waves roll and lap at the rocks. I could fall asleep to it.”

“Is that so? I do not notice it. Kamino is an aquatic planet. Covered in oceans.” He liked learning more about you during these little meetings of yours.

Sighing you looked out at the ocean, its waves lapping near your feet. “I grew up on a desert planet in the outer rim. Was there until the wars.”

“Your brother mentioned being saved by clones before?” That hadn’t gone unnoticed by him that first meeting.

Of course, he’d heard that. With a nod you let your hand rest in your lap. “A warlord used to own our planet. Made the men work in the mines. The woman took care of the cooking, cleaning…entertainment.” You tried not to remember that part. “Then they came, white and pink armor glistening in the sun. Took them three days to run the Separatists out. I felt so safe with them around.” Looking up at the sun, you sighed. “Didn’t last long. The Separatists came back and bombed our planet. I tripped while running with my parents. Seems I’m good at that.”

Brown eyes watched as you told him your history. All your little expressions didn’t go unnoticed by him. How your lips parted as your breathing increased or how your fingers began to tap against the white stone of the seawall you were sitting on. You released a shuddered breath as you continued, lost in your memories. Something told him to comfort you and Hunter's words rang in his head. Reaching over, he carefully wrapped his hand around yours, stopping your fingers from tapping, you didn’t seem to notice.

“One of them picked me up and carried me in his arms like I weighed nothing. I never learned his name, but I’d seen him around the town. He told me we’d be ok and that he’d find me after.” Mindlessly, you raised your free hand to your cheek. Still able to feel the warmth of the clone's fingers. “Do you know if anyone from that unit survived?”

Pink and white? Tech ran through the different unit colors in his mind. Vaguely he could remember a few of them around Kamino right before he and his brothers were sent into the field. Though he couldn’t remember seeing them after the batch had passed their assessments. Which meant only one thing, total unit destruction. “I have no knowledge of a unit with that color coordination. Most likely it means they were placed into an undercover unit. Not uncommon.” Anyone else he would have told them the truth, but you? He just couldn’t do it. He couldn’t break your fragile heart with the knowledge that they were completely destroyed.

Turning your head, you smiled half-heartedly. “That’s good.” Looking back at the water, you hoped the clone that had given you his glove had survived and was safe out there, and hadn’t gotten into too much trouble for missing his glove.

Tech watched as you got lost in your thoughts once more. The breeze from the ocean blew your hair away from your face and he watched as your eyes closed to the feeling. The setting sun illuminated your lips and Tech felt another urge surge inside him. For once his nerves actually got to him as he squeezed your hand gently. “I am sorry to ask this, but would you be willing to assist me in a small experiment?”

“What kind of experiment, Tech?” You now noticed his hand holding yours and your heart began to race once again.

“I would like to investigate a theory of mine. Would you be willing to close your eyes?” Were his palms sweaty? They felt like they were becoming sweaty. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.

If it was anyone else you’d say no. If it was your brothers you’d say hell no. But Tech made you feel safe…warm. So you obliged him. Swallowing, you adjusted how you were sitting to look at him before closing your eyes.

Never letting go of your hand, Tech carefully raised his other one to your cheek. His hand hovered for a moment before moving that final centimeter to rest on your warm skin. You let out a shaky breath as soon as he touched you and it gave him the confidence he needed. Carefully, he moved his thumb over your bottom lip and watched as you parted them.

“Tech? Are you going to kiss me?”

Tech's thumb hovered over your lip as he realized you were now looking at him. Your eyes were filled with hope and desire. For once his breath caught in his throat. “If you would allow me.”

You nodded slowly, never moving your eyes from his. “Don’t worry, you won’t offend me.”

A small chuckle came from Tech as he slowly leaned in to kiss you. Last time he’d done this in a hurry, trying to get you to open your mouth for the rebreather. Now this time, this time he wanted to take it slow, see if the energy he’d felt from you before was because of you or the adrenaline of almost drowning.

Your lips parted slightly in anticipation as your eyes closed. You’d hoped he’d kiss you again, you’d felt like the two of you were becoming closer. Everything around the two of you seemed to stop as you waited for the feeling of his lips on yours once more.

So close, your lips were just a breath away.

*Pling. Pling. Pling.*

Tech sighed softly as his datapad rang. No one ever called him unless it was important. “I’m sorry. It is important.”

Opening your eyes slowly, you nodded as he answered the datapad.

“Echo? What a surprise.” Tech raised an eyebrow, surprised to hear from the clone so soon.

Echo looked over his shoulder as Howzer and his men walked by with Senator Chuchi. “Wish I could say it was for a catch-up talk.”

Next to him, you shifted slightly. His hand was still holding yours, not yet ready to leave the warmth it gave him. “You require our assistance?”

“Yeah, need ya to take a look at some intel I gathered.” Echo needed to know where that transport was taking Howzer and his men. Hopefully, it would lead to others.

Sighing softly, Tech knew this would take some time. “Let me call you back in a moment, Echo.”

Echo was surprised that Tech was actually making him wait to discuss what needed to come next. But it was Tech and so he figured it was for a good reason. “Yeah. This line is secure. Call me back here.”

“I am sorry.” Tech placed the datapad down before looking at you. “It seems I am needed.”

“Don’t worry. I understand.” Picking up your datapad, you turned and placed your feet on the cobbled stone path behind you. “Same time tomorrow?”

Tech watched as you stood. Lifting your hand to his lip he placed a gentle kiss against your warm skin. It wasn’t the kiss he wanted to give you. But the feeling that he’d gotten from being interrupted had answered the questions he had been trying to figure out. He irrevocably and undeniably liked you romantically. “Same time tomorrow.”

Your cheeks flared at his kiss. Smiling, you waved to him before turning and heading back to your house.

His brown eyes watched as you vanished up the hill towards your house. He’d kiss you properly soon. For now, he needed to help his brother.

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