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peteytheparrot · 4 months ago
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I…I saw something that is worse than Bill Fucking my mom:
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They’re siblings too and made a pact with a demon who has a crazy sense of humor like WTF and also aw??? Help they are cannibals too like FCC if xzz y c sorry this thing asked for a yap session sooo
Andrew isn’t bad though, soooooooo 🤷‍♀️
Plays the infamous incest game
‘Why is there incest in this?? 😡😡’
I think that’s what you’re trying to say I don’t understand the other half of those sentences…
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zizzlekwum · 2 years ago
Text
Stranger In A Not-So-Strange Land
Masterlist
CHAPTER SIX
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The BAU investigates a series of homicides where the unsub calls 911 before murdering the victims. Follows the events of Criminal Minds Season 2 Episode 14 “The Big Game.”
Trigger Warnings: none
Word Count: 4,918
Tag List: @leftoverenvy @itsmeanobody @ctrljuls @theclassicgaycousin [if you want to be added to the tag list, please comment or send me an ask]
NOTE: Sorry again for the delayed upload, I kinda forgot yesterday was Sunday. Oops!
In your old life, you rarely went to clubs, more content to visit your few friends at their houses and play video games than going out drinking, but when Garcia excitedly tells you that everyone is going to the bar after work, you can’t bring yourself to tell her no. The people you work with are your only source of social interaction now, so you can’t justify not going out with them on the basis of it being outside of your comfort zone.
At the Irish-themed pub, you’re content to sit on the sidelines and chat with your found family, thankful that you were wearing your Calmer noise-reducing ear buds when you woke up in this universe; it helps you deal with the loud, booming music that serves as a reminder why you typically avoid going to places like this (you also always carry a pair of foam earplugs in your pocket, though, just in case). When Emily stands to grab everyone another round of drinks, you, you volunteer to help her carry them back to the table.
“Hey Morgan, be careful!” she shouts over the roar of the music as you follow her back to the table, balancing three glasses in your hands. “The one in the back could take your wallet!”
“That’s all right,” Morgan tells her with a grin, dancing with multiple women. “I’ll be a broke, happy man.” You laugh as Emily shakes her head, the both of you placing the drinks down on the table in front of Hotch, Haley, and Garcia.
“Thank you,” Hotch says, grabbing his glass. “Cheers!”
You sit down as you raise your glass of Blue Moon and smile, taking a sip. “Cheers!”
“So how are they treating you at the BAU, Emily?” Haley asks after setting her drink down.
“She means am I being nice to you,” Hotch jokes. Haley nods, smiling.
“Actually, everyone has been incredibly nice,” Emily tells her, smiling.
“Good,” Haley says.
“Just look at him move!” Garcia is turned away from you in her chair, sipping from her drink as she watches Morgan hungrily. “It’s like a cat.”
“More like a dog!” Emily exclaims, laughing.
Garcia glances at her. “He did not ask them to dance. They asked him.”
Emily smiles. “Okay. Okay, he’s a cat.”
“An alley cat,” Haley jokes, causing you to choke on your beer, spilling a little.
Hotch stands, grabbing her hand. “Come on, Haley, let’s go show them how it’s done.”
“I’m game if you are!” Haley says as Hotch leads her to the dance floor.
Emily hands you napkins as you finish coughing. “Thanks,” you tell her, wiping at the spilled beer on your shirt. “God, that was unexpectedly hilarious.”
“It was a good one,” she agrees, laughing. She looks over at Hotch and Haley. “That is so sweet!”
Garcia stands. “I’m going to the loo.” She points at Emily. “Do not let anyone steal my seat.”
“I’ll guard it with my life,” Emily tells her, smiling. She turns to you as you take another sip of your beer. She turns to you. “Having fun?”
“I’m enjoying spending time with everyone— you know, outside of work— although a loud bar wouldn’t typically be my first pick,” you admit. “I have sensory issues, so I don’t really like loud places, and crowds give me anxiety, but luckily I have these.” You reach up and remove one of your ear buds, showing it to her before putting it back in your ear. “They help reduce the noise to a more manageable volume.”
“How do they work?” Emily asks.
You shrug. “No idea. And I won’t be able to look it up, either, because these are from my own universe and won’t be invented for years.”
“What else do you do to help manage your sensory issues?”
“I try to avoid handshakes when I can— I don’t like that they’re never the same amount of pressure, and men squeeze way too tightly for my liking. I also don’t let anyone touch my head,” you say, then point to your hat. “And the hat helps me feel less anxious, though I’ve never really been able to pinpoint the reason why.”
“So that’s why I’ve never seen you without one,” she says, smiling.
You smile back at her, nodding, and open your mouth to continue the conversation when you notice JJ making her way through the crowd towards you. “Shit,” you say, taking a big sip of your beer.
“What’s wrong?” Emily follows your line of sight and frowns. “Oh no, that’s her ‘we have a case’ face.”
“We have a case,” JJ says when she reaches you, confirming your suspicions.
“Yeah, yeah, we know,” you tell her, standing.
“I’m going to go tell the others,” she says as you and Emily head to the bar to pay your tabs, abandoning your drinks.
“You good to drive?” Emily asks as you take out your keys.
You wave your hand at her as if to wave away her concerns. “I only had one beer,” you tell her, then pause. “Well, one and a half. Plus, I already had something to eat, and as my best friend Derek used to say, I have the alcohol tolerance of a cow.”
“A cow?” she repeats, chuckling.
“I don’t know, I guess it’s supposed to mean I have a high tolerance,” you tell her as the two of you exit the bar. You gesture down the street. “I’m down there. I’ll meet you at the BAU?”
She nods, beginning to walk in the opposite direction. “See you there.”
*   *   *   *   *
Back at the BAU, you all gather in the conference room. “You know, it never fails,” Morgan says, pouring himself a coffee. “Just as I’m getting my groove thing going, BAM! We’re back at the BAU.
“You know, statistically, a case doesn’t come in with any more frequency if you’re at a party or gathering than if you aren’t,” Reid says as you and Prentiss chuckle at Morgan. “It’s a trick of the mind. We merely remember the ones that came in that way more.”
“Besides, is it really that hard for you to get your ‘groove thang’ going again?” Emily asks. You snort.
“Only when he’s sleeping,” Gideon says as he walks into the room, taking off his coat.
“Where were you tonight?” Hotch asks Gideon.
“I told you, I went to the Jeffersonian,” Gideon says, sitting down.
“You missed a good time,” Prentiss tells him.
Gideon shrugs. “I had a good time.”
“Well, that’s definitely over,” JJ says as she walks into the room and grabs the remote, pointing it at the TV screen and bringing up a picture of a well-dressed couple. “The Kyles, Dennis and Lacy, were murdered an hour ago in their suburban Atlanta home.”
“Only an hour ago?” you say.
“Police were on scene unusually fast,” JJ tells you.
“Why?” Morgan asks.
“One of the unsubs called them and told them that the other was about to murder the victims.”
“You’re kidding.” Morgan shakes his head.
JJ nods. “From inside the house. According to the dispatcher, the first male sounded terrified and begged them to get there because the other, who they both identified as Raphael, was about to kill the sinners that lived there.”
“Sinners?” Hotch repeats, frowning.
“Yeah,” JJ says. “The 911 center is going to send Garcia a copy of the tape.”
“How fast was the police response time?” Reid asks.
“Four minutes, 26 seconds,” JJ tells him, pressing a button on her remote and pulling up pictures of the crime scene. “During which time Raphael managed to do this.”
“Oh,” Garcia says quietly, looking away.
“In four and a half minutes?” Prentiss says, a shocked expression on her face.
“Mr. Kyle is a dot com millionaire,” JJ continues. “His company is one of the largest employers in the community. There’s gonna be media coverage.” She turns back to the TV screen. “Also, when they arrived, the police found this displayed prominently on the bed.”
“Revelations, chapter six verse eight,” Hotch notes.
“They’re killing sinners,” Morgan says. “These guys are on a mission.”
“And mission-based killers will not stop killing,” Reid adds.
“‘And I looked and behold a pale horse,’” Hotch reads, “‘and his name that sat upon him was Death.’”
“‘And Hell followed with him,’” Gideon finishes.
“Hey,” you say, a thought occurring to you. “The name Raphael, could that be a reference to the archangel?” You mentally thank your obsession with Supernatural for helping make the connection.
“It could be a coincidence,” Hotch says, frowning. “But certainly something to keep in mind.” He looks around the room at everyone. “Wheels up in thirty.”
*   *   *   *   *
After the plane takes off, Morgan sets up a laptop on the table in front of you, connecting to Garcia with a video call. Prentiss sits next to him, you across from her on the other side of the table.
Prentiss looks to Morgan with a frown. “This is a bad one, isn’t it.”
Morgan sighs. “Unsubs with a cause are never good.”
“Pets, I just got the 911 call from the Georgia State Police,” Garcia says. She plays the audio.
“911, what’s your emergency?” the operator says.
“I’m at 1527 Chestnut Drive,” a man whispers, his voice shaking.
“I know where you’re calling from, sir, what’s your emergency?”
“He thinks they’re too greedy. They have too much.”
“Too much what?” the 911 operator asks.
“Stuff,” the man whispers. “You know, possessions. Things they don’t need. Hurry!”
“Are you calling because these people have too much stuff, sir?”
“No, I’m calling because Raphael—” There’s a thud, and the man stops talking.
“That’s enough,” a second man says.
“I don’t want to,” the first voice tells him.
The second man doesn’t respond. “He’s calling because Raphael is going to kill the sinners that live here.”
“I’m sorry, did you say somebody is killing someone?” the 911 operator asks. The audio file ends.
“Well, unsub one definitely sounds frightened,” Emily says. “Maybe he’s doing this against his will.”
Gideon shakes his head, frowning. “I doubt it. He whispered.”
“He could’ve called out to save them instead of calling 911,” Hotch says.
“Not if he had a gun to his head,” Morgan says.
“If he had a gun to his head, why would he have dialed 911?” Gideon points out.
“The second unsub said Raphael was going to kill someone,” JJ says. “Is there a third?”
“He could’ve just been referring to himself in the third person,” you offer.
Reid nods. “That’s not uncommon for an unsub. Ted Bundy gave thoroughly detailed accounts of his murders, but he never actually admitted to doing it. He would just say ‘the killer.’”
“Okay, so I’m gonna go ahead and run the name Raphael through the Georgia criminal databases as well as our own,” Garcia says.
“Thanks Garcia,” Hotch says.
“Ever so welcome my liege,” she says as Morgan closes the laptop.
“We have a killing team on a mission in rural Georgia,” Hotch says. “We know what that means.”
“They’re not gonna stop,” you say.
“Not until the mission’s complete,” Morgan says.
“We need to hit the ground running,” Hotch tells you all. “JJ, we need an inside picture of the victims. Victimology can be critically important in a mission-based spree.”
JJ stands and walks to the far end of the plane. “Already on it.”
“Prentiss and Y/L/N, go to where the bodies are,” Hotch continues. “Examine the wounds. They managed to kill two victims in four and a half minutes. We need to know how.”
Prentiss nods. “You got it.”
“I’m going to set up at the Atlanta field office and go over case files from the state,” Hotch says. “It would be highly unusual for a first kill to be this efficient.”
“Reid, you and Morgan, come with me to the crime scene,” Gideon says.
“We land in less than an hour,” Hotch tells you. “Everybody try to get some rest.”
You know you’re not going to get any sleep without taking your sleeping pills, but you also can’t take them now because of the case, so you don’t even bother to close your eyes. Instead, you reach into your backpack and take out your copy of the current DSM and research mental health conditions until you land.
*   *   *   *   *
“They’re all long, deep gashes,” the ME tells you and Prentiss as he shows you the bodies. “Each victim has virtually the same wounds— both throats cut, a vertical gash up one arm from wrist to elbow, and a vertical gash down one leg from crotch to upper thigh.”
“Major arteries,” Prentiss notes.
The ME nods. “It’s damned efficient.”
“How much anatomical knowledge would someone need to do this?” you ask.
“Anyone with a basic understanding of the body knows where these arteries are,” the ME says.
“And do you have any idea which one of these wounds was delivered first?” Prentiss asks.
The ME reaches over one of the bodies and grabs a clipboard from the table. “Um, there was a— there was active blood flow from each of the wounds.”
“So probably all the wounds were made at about the same time?” you say.
He nods. “With any of these wounds, the victim would bleed out quickly. Almost like an animal at slaughter.” He pauses. “No, actually, exactly like an animal at slaughter. A-a-a deer or-or a lamb or a cow, something like that— you-you cut the throat first, then-then sometimes open up other major arteries to assist in draining the carcass.”
“So maybe a hunter?” Prentiss says.
“Or a farmer, or—” The ME stops himself, frowning. “Pretty much anyone in rural Georgia.”
“Oh,” Prentiss says quietly.
“Great,” you groan, rubbing a hand over your face. “Just great.”
*   *   *   *   *
When you and Prentiss arrive at the field office, Gideon, Reid, and Morgan are already there. Gideon is talking to Hotch.
“…a video of the attack,” you hear him saying as you and Prentiss approach them.
Hotch turns to face you. “How’d it go at the ME’s office?”
“They were killed like an animal at slaughter,” you tell him. “So basically, anyone in rural Georgia could’ve done this, as the ME put it.”
“What did you guys find at the crime scene?” Prentiss asks Gideon.
“Garcia found a video of the murders online,” he says, sighing. He motion to JJ over at a desk with a computer. “JJ was just pulling it up for us.”
You follow him over to JJ as she steps back. “It’s all set,” she says. “Just hit play.” Gideon moves the mouse and clicks, and the video begins to play.
A man in a hood appears on the screen, the lighting casting dark shadows across his face, concealing his identity. “He says the world is a cesspool,” the man says. “Of greed. Lust. Disease.”
“That sounds like unsub number one,” Emily says.
“He says redemption must be sought,” the man in the video continues. “We must all repent.”
“And he referred to being Raphael?” Hotch asks.
Gideon shrugs. “Or God.”
“It’s not God,” Morgan says. “It’s someone sitting right there next to him, telling this guy what to say.”
A second voice begins talking in the video as the screen changes to inside of a house. “As the Lord God spoke in Leviticus 26:18—”
“That’s a new voice,” Morgan points out.
“—and if you will not yet for all this—”
Emily shakes her head. “A third unsub?”
“—I will punish ye seven times more for your sins.”
“Could just be recorded from a religious program or a sermon,” Morgan suggests as a man and a woman you assume to be the victims walk into the screen.
“‘Punish ye seven times,’” JJ repeats.
“Five more victims,” Gideon says.
“These images were shot from the exact spot on the dresser where that computer sat,” Morgan says, pointing over at Reid, who is sitting at a desk behind all of you.
Hotch turns to walk over to Reid. You follow him. “So if this video came from that computer’s camera, then what? Did the unsubs bring it with them?”
“As far as we can tell, this computer belonged to the Kyles,” Reid reports. “Garcia can do a better analysis, but it has their banking statements, vacation photos.”
Hotch looks back over at the screen where the video is still playing. “One comes into the room and immediately goes after Mr. Kyle. What, did the other unsub turn the camera on?”
“We might be asking the wrong questions,” Gideon says. “This video, this message, it’s important. Clearly, they want the world to see this. They need it. But they didn’t bring a camera with them.”
“Guys,” you whisper quietly, stepping away from the laptop in front of Reid. “What if one of the unsubs hacked the Kyle’s computer and used it to shoot the video?”
Reid stands. “Agent Franks,” he whispers. “Does this building have wireless internet?”
Franks nods. “Yeah, why?”
“That camera’s on right now,” Reid tells you all quietly. “The computer’s connected itself to the internet. It’s streaming a video feed somewhere.”
“Can we trace the stream to its destination?” Hotch asks quietly.
“If we keep it open, Garcia might be able—” Reid is interrupted by a beeping sound coming from the Kyles’ laptop. You look over to it as the screen fades to black. A message flashes across the screen before the computer turns off: THE ARMIES OF SATAN SHALL NOT PREVAIL.
Reid shakes his head. “It turned off.”
“So they’re controlling it remotely?” Hotch asks.
“Is that even possible?” Prentiss asks.
You nod. “Oh yeah, totally. It’s why I always tape over the camera of any computer with a built-in webcam.”
Morgan takes out his phone and dials Garcia. “Hey Garcia, how would someone go about remotely accessing a computer?” he asks immediately when she picks up.
“Well, it’s actually done a lot today,” she says. “When a mortal calls for tech support, instead of, like, giving you instructions, the tech can work on your computer from wherever she is.”
“And they maintain the access even after the work is done?” Hotch asks.
“They’re not supposed to, but I suppose you could install a Trojan Horse during a service.”
“It’s, um, something left in the computer to be turned on later,” Reid explains, noticing the blank look on Gideon’s face. “Same way that websites get pop-up ads onto your computer.”
“Garcia, can you check the Kyles’ phone records and see if they called for tech support in the last six months?” Hotch asks.
“Right-o,” she says. “Oh, and if you get me the Kyles’ laptop, I can search the drive for anything implanted there.”
“Fast as we can,” Hotch assures her.
“By the way, this video?” she says. “It’s gone crazy viral.”
“What’s that mean?” Gideon asks.
“It means that a shit-ton of people have seen it,” you explain.
“It’s the most downloaded video on the internet,” Garcia adds. “Worldwide. And judging by the responses embedded in the files, people seem to think it’s pretty cool.”
Hotch shakes his head. “Call us if you find anything on the Kyles’ computer.”
“Yeah,” Garcia says. There’s a click, and she’s gone.
“Murder is entertainment,” Gideon says, shaking his head.
“They probably don’t even realize it’s real,” JJ tells him. “People see so many images online every day, they might assume it’s marketing for a horror film or something.”
“These unsubs are right about one thing,” Morgan says. “The world is pretty screwed up.”
You all head back to the conference room, where there’s a bulletin board set up with images of the crime scene and the victims’ bodies. A white board is next to it. Prentiss uncaps the marker and writes EFFICIENT IDENTICAL WOUNDS in blue ink.
“So what have we got so far?” Hotch asks.
Prentiss sighs. “Well, the killings are clinically efficient. They had the ear marks of a slaughter, as in an animal.”
“Or a sacrifice,” Morgan suggests. You nod. Prentiss turns back and writes SLAUGHTER/SACRIFICE.
“We haven’t been able to find anything in federal or state databases that suggest similar crimes,” Hotch says. “As far as I can tell, it’s the first in a series.” Prentiss writes NO PRIORS on the white board.
“At least one member of the team may believe he’s killing in the name of God,” Reid notes, “suggesting a psychopathy that should display extreme levels of disorganization, yet there are forensic countermeasures and somebody in control enough to do complicated computer work.” He grabs a paper from the bulletin board as Prentiss writes RELIGIOUS PSYCH, and COMPUTER underneath it. “One member of the team’s organized, the other’s extremely disorganized. But what’s strange is that the one we would consider as being most in control, the one that made the phone call, can’t seem to stop the other one from killing. Usually the frenzied personality takes direction from the cooler head.” Prentiss writes UNSUB 1 (DIS) and UNSUB 2 (ORG) in blue ink on the white board.
“All right, so let’s look at that,” Morgan says. “Unsub one called the police before the killing, but he didn’t leave time enough for them to get there. Is the phone call just the guy working on a defense in case of capture? I mean, maybe he didn’t wanna stop the other, but he did whatever he had to do to cover himself.”
“So,” Gideon says. “What do we have so far?” No one says anything. “Not enough.”
*   *   *   *   *
You and Prentiss are reviewing the evidence and bouncing theories off of each other when Hotch pokes his head into the room. “We got another murder.”
Hotch drives, with Gideon in the passenger seat. You sit in the middle between Morgan and Prentiss. When you get there, there are already multiple police cars surrounding the house. The front door is open, with an officer standing outside it.
You follow Hotch through the front door. “Detective,” he greets.
“Yeah,” the detective says, turning around. “Well, he called again. This time, it was different. Only one of them spoke.”
“Which one?” Hotch asks.
“Pretty sure it was Raphael,” the detective says. “I wrote down what he said, and I got a recording being brought out here. Took us almost eleven minutes to respond. We only had the one unit close.”
“Could the unsub know that?” Morgan asks.
The detective nods. “The lack of police presence out here has gotten some local media attention recently. Now, the 911 call wasn’t the only thing that was different. This particular scene is weird in another way. The male victim, upstairs… throat cut.”
“Why is that weird?” Gideon asks.
“He doesn’t live here,” the detective tells him. “He’s a local handyman.”
You follow Morgan and Prentiss up the stairs and into what appears to be the master bedroom. You each put on a pair of white latex gloves. The body is still on the floor, surrounded by a pool of his own blood. There are blood spatters across the white headboard of the queen-sized bed. On the desk across from the bed is an open laptop.
Morgan walks over to the body, his back to the desk. “Don’t look now, but we’re on candid camera,” he tells you and Prentiss, his voice quiet.
Prentiss nods. “Uh-huh.”
“Yep,” you say, popping the ‘p.’ The three of you continue to casually observe the body. “Body was sliced just like the other victims.”
“No defensive wounds,” Prentiss notes, checking the victim’s hands.
You look around the room. “Not many signs of a struggle. If the unsub did take the woman who lives here, she must’ve been easy to subdue.” You walk over to the edge of the bed, where there is a piece of paper with a highlighted bible verse printed on it in an evidence bag. “‘Power was given unto them over the fourth part of the Earth,’” you read aloud. “‘To kill with sword, with hunger, and with death, and with the beasts of the Earth.’ Revelations. A book about the end of days. Not good.” You all exchange a look.
There’s not much left to do, so you wait for Hotch and Gideon to come look at the room before exiting the house. Hotch turns to face you.
“So let’s work this out,” he says. “What does the new behavior tell us?”
Emily sighs. “That there was only one unsub this time? Uh, Raphael? Alone?”
“Not if he’s the psychotic,” Hotch says. “He wouldn’t be capable of operating this efficiently. Someone was here who could control himself, make sure no evidence was left behind.”
“At the first crime, unsub one called the police, right?” Morgan says. “This time it was Raphael. Why? It’s like the phone call is necessary. It’s part of the signature.”
“This team doesn’t act like any team we’ve ever come across,” you say. “Someone’s clearly the dominant one and someone’s clearly the follower. It doesn’t change like this.”
“Have we ever seen this in case history?” Hotch asks.
Morgan shakes his head. “A mixture of extreme psychosis in a controlled individual? No. One of the most common indicators of extreme psychosis is solitude.”
“They don’t exactly play well with others,” Emily adds.
“Was Garcia able to find anything on Raphael in the records?” Gideon asks from behind you, walking over to join the rest of you.
You shake your head. “Not yet.”
“So why is he naming himself?” Gideon asks. “Twice. Certainly not worried about us getting that name. In fact, he wants us to know it.”
“An alias?” Prentiss asks. “Y/L/N did suggest that he could be claiming to be the archangel.”
“Or Raphael doesn’t actually exist,” Gideon says.
Morgan frowns. “So we’re not looking for a team?”
“Meaning?” Prentiss asks.
“We may have one unsub, suffering from the delusion that he’s actually an archangel,” Gideon says. “Maybe that first phone call was not two people, but one.”
“A split personality,” you say. “Interesting.”
“Well, what about the third voice?” Emily asks.
Gideon shakes his head. “That I don’t know about yet.”
Hotch sighs. “Well, if Mrs. Douglas is Jezebel, there’s an especially unpleasant death in her future.” You cringe.
*   *   *   *   *
“Garcia’s running voice analysis on the first 911 call to see if there are actually two voices,” Morgan tells Hotch as you all walk back into the field office. “She’s also gonna peel the third voice off the videotape and see if that gets anything.”
“We should have a copy of that latest call brought over here within the hour,” the same detective from earlier says.
“Thanks,” Hotch tells him.
“Hotchner,” Agent Franks calls from his desk, phone in hand. “Your tech from Quantico is on the phone.” Hotch nods and walks over to a vacant desk, pressing a button on the phone. “Garcia?”
“Jeez, don’t you people answer your cell phones anymore?” she asks.
“We were driving back to Atlanta through the countryside,” Hotch explains to her. “Spotty cell signal.”
“If you think that first video went viral fast, the second one’s going through the stratosphere.”
“Second video?” Hotch asks, frowning.
“Yeah, there’s a new video from our psycho,” Garcia tells him. “I’m downloading it myself right now. Some of these upload sites get more than a million hits a day.”
“Get it on the monitor here as soon as you can,” Hotch says.
“Right,” she says.
You wait for the video to pop up on the computer screen. When it does, you lean closer. A hooded figure is sitting in front of a struggling woman, bound and gagged. “‘…that he spake by his servant, Elijah the Tishbite, saying, in the portion of Jezreel shall dogs eat the flesh of Jezebel,’” the figure reads from a bible in his lap. You hear dogs snarling and barking as the woman in the background struggles. As soon as the dogs appear on the screen, you turn away, the woman’s screams ringing in your ears.
“Jezebel’s death,” Gideon says.
“My God,” Prentiss says.
“You can turn it off,” Hotch tells her. She goes to reach for the mouse when the detective stops her.
“Wait!” he says, grabbing her arm.
“You haven’t seen enough?” Morgan says.
“Those dogs,” he says, pointing at the screen. “Those three dogs attacked someone a couple of months ago. I would’ve had them impounded but the victim knew the owner. A neighbor. He didn’t want to press charges.”
“And you’re sure?” Gideon asks.
The detective nods. “With God as my witness.” He reaches into his pocket and withdraws a notepad, beginning to flip through it. “Three mangy mixes. I knew those dogs looked sick. I called Animal Control, but I don’t know if they ever followed up on it.” He stops turning pages and shows Hotch his notepad. “Here is it.”
“You have the owner’s name?” Hotch asks.
“Hankel,” he says.
“‘Hankel?’” Hotch repeats.
“Tobias Hankel,” the detective says.
Your eyes go wide. “Shit!” you exclaim. Everyone turns to you in surprise. “Wait— oh my God, where’s Reid? Hotch, where’s Reid?”
“He and JJ went to talk to someone who called in a prowler in front of the Kyles’ house a few weeks before they were murdered,” Hotch says, looking stricken. “The name was—”
“Tobias Hankel!” you finish. You curse again, your heartbeat slamming against your chest. “They went right to the unsub. Hotch, he’s gonna get Reid. He’s gonna get Reid!”
Hotch is already rushing to the door. “Let’s move! Everybody, now!”
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maddiwrites · 4 years ago
Text
Breathe With Me
Pairing: JJ x Reader
Summary: After finding out who hurt you on that horrific night, JJ helps you through another panic attack and makes plans to protect his girl.
Note: This was requested a long time ago after a chapter of my rewrite was posted! Instead of doing JJ x OC, like requested, I changed it to JJ x Reader so that people who don’t read my rewrite can enjoy it too. Hopefully this is okay with ya’ll. 
Word Count: 3.5k
WARNINGS: Sexual Assault!!! This chapter has descriptions of sexual assault. Please do not read if this is TRIGGERING!!!! 
National Sexual Assault Hotline: 1-800-656-4673
Masterlist
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It was another regular day on the island. Hot and crowded with tourists. With everyone working, you decided to tag along with JJ and Pope to delivery groceries for Heyward’s business. Usually this meant going to Figure Eight, your least favorite place to be. Normally it didn’t creep you out too much, but because of a rather recent incident, you didn’t like being there.
Right after your dad went missing, you spent a lot of time with Kie as she lived out her Kook Year. Avoiding the Pogues and John B and surrounding yourself with stuck up assholes and their expensive drugs and alcohol helped you forget about your own family crisis. You would do anything to take your mind off your dad’s disappearance even if it meant getting high on whatever was offered to you. You didn’t ask twice about what it was. You figured if the rich people we’re doing it, it couldn’t be that bad right?
One night you did a long line surrounded by Rafe and a couple of his buddies. Pretty much everything after that was a blur. Your memories are fuzzy, like a puzzle piece you can’t piece together. The last thing you remember is your black hitting something soft, like a mattress or a pillow. You thought you heard the zipper of your shorts being pulled down but figured it was Kie helping you change into a pair of pajamas. 
The next morning you woke up practically naked with a blanket covering your bottom half and your bra pulled down to your stomach. You began to panic and ran your hands down your side, flinching at the tenderness by your hips. The skin was yellow/green and getting ready to bruise. Your breathing became shallow and your throat tightened up. You fumbled around the room you didn’t recognize for your clothes and slid them on, not caring what was backwards or inside out. You stumbled out the door and tip toed down the long staircase of the large house you were in. Figure Eight, you thought. 
You didn’t go home first. You went to Kie’s house. Because your body ached. Because you wanted to cry but didn’t want John B or the other boys to hear you. Because you were afraid to be naked around anyone but another girl. The second she opened the door, you sobbed into her arms and told her what you think happened to you. Kie tried to get you to go to the police or even the hospital, but you couldn’t fathom the idea of anyone knowing about what happened. Not even a stranger. Because you were embarrassed. You blamed yourself for this happening to you. You were high as fuck, trying to forget about your family troubles. You were the one to make yourself weak and vulnerable. No one else. Someone just took advantage of the position you put yourself in.
Kie didn’t pressure you. She wanted to support you in whatever decision you made, despite wanting justice for you and sending whoever the sleaze bag was to jail. She sat on the toilet and talked to you as you showered slowly. You spent most of the time staring at the wall and feeling ever inch of your body. You felt so dirty and no amount of soap or scrubbing could make you feel any cleaner. 
You stayed at her house for a couple of days until John B eventually texted her because he was worried. You both decided it was time for you to go home, but you never told them what happened. You were afraid of what John B and even JJ would do if they found out. And the last thing you wanted was for either of them to get hurt or in trouble.
John B didn’t notice something was off as much as JJ did. He could tell you were being more quiet and reserved than usual. Your usual style of crop tops and jean shorts changed to sweats and baggy t shirts. You slept with your door locked and didn’t touch a single can of beer since you came home.
Moving on from that night was a slow and gruesome process, one you don’t know if you’ll ever fully recover form. Luckily for you, JJ was a great distracter. He was an amazing story teller, he could make you laugh with a small hand gesture, and his laugh could draw you in for hours. No one was surprised when the two of you eventually started dating. Not even John B, who was a little apprehensive about it at first. 
To JJ, everything came to light when another make out session became heated. Like that morning, it became hard to breathe and your mind wandered off to what could have happened to you that night. In a blink of an eye, you were back in Figure Eight with someone pulling your zipper down. You could physically feel the bruises on your hips again and your skin burning. 
A panic attack emerged and JJ was left confused and lost. Fortunately for you, he was quick to realize something was seriously wrong and helped you through it. He breathed with you and talked you down. When you were calm, you explained what happened. At first he was pissed. Pissed at whoever could have done this to you and even a little bit at you and Kie for keeping this from him. He was ready to charge out of the house, grab John B, and find the sick son of a bitch who would touch an unconscious girl. But your cries stopped him. He’s never heard pain in your voice like he did that night. It physically cracked his heart into a million little pieces and he dropped every instinct he had and stayed with you instead. 
Since then, he’s been the most supportive and protective boyfriend. At every boneyard party, he would keep an eye out for any Kook that decided to show their face on your turf. He took note of anyone looking at you in a weird way. He carried the gun he stole from Scooter in his backpack for protection. He was serious about using it too. No one touches his girl and gets away with it.
Luckily, nothing happened between JJ and any Kook. No one made a move to talk to you or tease you. Kooks kept their usual distance from you, which not only made you feel better for yourself but because you didn’t want something to happen to JJ. You know the rules of the game of this island. Nothing bad ever happens to Kooks. They don’t know consequences. 
When Pope docks his boat, he asks if you would come with him to drop groceries off at the Thorntons. If he did it alone, it would cause two trips and he doesn’t want to waste time. 
As you go to agree, JJ steps in and shakes his head as he looks between you two. “I don’t think thats a good idea.”
“Why not?” Pope asks, completely clueless.
You subtly shake your head, silently begging for JJ not to say anything. Pope and John B still didn’t know and you want to keep it that way. Sure you would feel safer with JJ by your side, but you won’t be alone. You will be with Pope. And who would try to start something in the middle of the day anyway?
“It’s fine, J,” You tell him. You even try to joke. “I’m sure you’ll survive one hour without me.”
When you kiss his cheek, JJ turns to look at you with his brows pinched together with worry. “Y/N...”
“Seriously, J...” You say. “It’s okay. I’ll be fine.” You whisper that last part as Pope turns to get the bags. 
“You have your phone?”
You nod and pull it out of your pocket to show him. “Yes. I’ll call you if anything happens.”
As JJ walks in the opposite direction of you and Pope, you feel the tension in your shoulders get tighter. The sight of these homes gives you flashbacks. The worst part about all of this is you don’t even know who hurt you. It could’ve been anyone - a touron even. It would be easier to know who did it so you know who to avoid. 
Pope notices your change in behavior but doesn’t mention it. Instead he keeps a silent eye on you and studies your every movement. 
As you pass the golf course, you hear a couple cat calls and cheering from a group of teenagers. When you look up, you see Rafe, Topper, and one of their friends making their way over to you. You take a step behind Pope, hiding behind his body and keeping your eyes trained down on your shoes. 
“What do we have here?” Rafe whistles as he comes closer. He looks down at the bags in your arms and the beer in Pope’s hand. “Bring us something?”
“These are already paid for,” Pope glares at them.
“Oh, right, right,” Rafe nods as if he understands. Then he takes is golf club and swings it at the brown paper bag in Pope’s arms, causing everything to spill out of it. 
“Dude!” 
“Sorry, man!” Rafe holds his hands up in fake surrender. He leans down to pick up a beer bottle and tosses it to his tall friend. “Trevor, you feeling thirsty?”
The guy, better known as Trevor, cracks the beer open and takes a long sip. When he looks down, he spots you and eyes your figure up and down. Then he smirks to himself and a shiver runs down your spine. You don’t like the way he’s looking at you. Like a piece of meat or someone he knows too much of. 
Rafe catches his eye and smirks to himself. “Ah, yeah. I forgot. You and Routledge have some history.”
Pope looks over his shoulder at you and sees your chest rising and dropping at a quicker pace. You’re gripping the bags in your hands so tight that he can see your knuckles turning white. You look away from the group of Kooks at the golf course with a frown on your face. Something was wrong, Pope thought. 
“Yeah, you could say that,” Trevor chuckles. He looks at you again and tilts his head. “What? You don’t remember me?”
“Pope...” You feel like you’re choking. How could he know you when you have no idea who he is? You don’t like where this is going.
Trevor continues, “Can’t say I blame you. You were out of your mind wasted that night -”
“What the hell is he talking about?” Pope says, looking between you and Trevor. He wasn’t one to get confrontational or angry, but he didn’t like what he was hearing. He didn’t like how you were acting. Something wasn't adding up. He knew you’ve hooked up with Kooks before, but this one was different. 
“Almost as dead as her daddy,” Rafe chuckles. Something in Pope snaps and he pushes Rafe back by his shoulders. In retaliation, Rafe raises his golf club and smacks it against the middle of Pope’s back, causing him to fall down with a thump. 
“Pope!” You cry and drop the bags you were holding and kneel next to him. 
“Hey,” Trevor touches your shoulder to try and pull you away from the two fighting boys, but you flinch away from him. 
“Don’t touch me! Get away from me!” You cry.
Trevor immediately holds up his hands in surrender and takes a step back. Your outburst causes everyone to freeze in their movements, even Rafe and Pope. The wheels in Topper’s head start to move a little quicker too. He looks between you and Trevor and feels off about your connection. You looked terrified. And Y/N Routledge was almost never terrified. 
Even though you are outside, you feel claustrophobic. Your heart is beating so heavily against your ribcage that you wouldn’t be surprised if it were to break your ribs. Pope notices you’re two shades paler and having a hard time breathing. Tears are silently falling down your face and you continue to crawl away form the group of Kooks backwards. 
“Y/N...” Pope says quietly.
“We should go,” Topper says. He never hated you like some of the other Kooks did. Sure you never got along, but a small part of him thought you were cool. He knew something was extremely wrong and he couldn’t help but think it had to do with their friend, Trevor. He looks at Rafe who continues to stare at you with surprise. “Dude.”
“Yeah...” Rafe says slowly. “Trev, let’s go.”
The three Kooks scatter back to the golf course. You squeeze your eyes tightly and grip the fabric of your shirt, pulling it away from your body because right now it just feels suffocating. 
“Hey.” Pope crouches down near you and lightly touches your shoulder. His touch feels like an electric shock, making you flinch even further away. When you open your eyes, you’re back in some random Kook’s house on a mattress you’re unfamiliar with. “They’re gone. Hey, they’re gone.” Pope tries to be gentle with you, but he also wants to get you out of here and in a more comfortable setting. 
“JJ,” You manage to say. Your throat feels on fire. “I need J-”
Pope immediately starts fumbling for his cell phone and dials his best friend’s number. He bounces on the balls of his feet as he impatiently listens to the ringing. “Come on. Come on.”
JJ answers. “Hey! Sorry I’m on my way back now. You’ll never believe how much this lady tipped me. I swear I’m coming on every -”
“JJ, shut up and listen to me. Y/N...” He glances back at you and sees you’re hunched over with your forehead resting on your knees and your fingers through your hair. “She’s having a panic attack or something. I - I don’t -”
“Where are you?” JJ’s once elated tone has dropped to a more serious one. 
Pope tries explaining what part of the golf course they are near. 
“Okay. I’ll be there in five minutes. Pope, get her under some shade or something. And if you can, try to get her to look at you. She needs to open her eyes to see where she is.” Pope nods, forgetting that JJ can’t see him. “Pope!”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry. Okay, doing that now.”
JJ hangs up the phone so he can run faster. 
Meanwhile, Pope crouches down in front of you again and says, “Y/N/N, hey. Can you open your eyes?” Pope lightly taps your ankles. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s just me.” You slowly blink your eyes open and sniffle back the tears. Pope smiles when he sees he’s made some sort of progress. “Hey. JJ’s on his way. Why don’t we move you under some shade? It’s getting pretty hot out here. Can I help you up?”
You nod and let Pope help you up and bring you a couple feet away under a large tree. Your back rests against the bark and you try taking deep breaths to calm the swirling nausea in your stomach. 
It was Trevor. It had to be Trevor. From the way he looked at you, to the innuendo Rafe made. You knew in your heart that it was Trevor who had hurt you that night. 
A part of you always wanted to know who did this, but another part of you wished you never figured it out. Because now his face will haunt you forever.
About a minute later, you hear another set of footsteps quickly coming your way. You panic, your immediate thought going to Trevor. Would he come back? 
But then you hear your boyfriend’s beautiful voice. “Hey.” His tone is soft and gentle. “Hey, baby. Look at me. It’s JJ.” You open your eyes and meet the lovely blue one’s you fell in love with. He grins at you and takes your hands in his. 
“I’m so - sorry,” You sob, suddenly hating yourself for bringing this back up to your boyfriend and ruining Pope’s work routine. “I - I -”
“Hey,” JJ says and pulls your hands to his chest, palms down. “Remember what we did last time? Match my breathing, okay? Ready? Take a deep breath.”
Pope watches with awe silently from the sidelines. He’s never seen this side of either one of you. You so panic stricken and scared, JJ so intent with concern and intuitive. 
You follow JJ’s breathing until you feel calm enough to breathe on your own. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” JJ shakes his head. “Don’t be sorry. Do you want to tell me what happened?”
You look down at your hands that are folded in your lap. You want to tell him. Of course you want to tell him. But you’re afraid of what happens next. You’re afraid of how JJ will respond.
“Rafe, Topper, and their friend Trevor jumped us,” Pope answers for you. Like JJ, he’s also curious about what happened. Of course he was there for the physical breakdown, but he wants to know more about what you’re going through emotionally. 
“Did they hurt you?” JJ looks back at you and inspects every inch of your open skin for signs of scratches or bruises. 
You shake your head. “No.”
“Then...”
“I know who it was,” You say, your voice as soft as a whisper. 
“What? You mean. -” JJ’s head snaps back and forth between you and Pope. “Who?”
You dip your chin into your chest to hide your tears as they start to flow again. You take a deep breath and look back up at your boyfriend. “Trevor.”
“Who the fuck is Trevor?” JJ looks at Pope. 
Pope shrugs, “I don’t know. He was golfing with the other two Kooks.”
“Where’d they go?” JJ stands up, causing both you and Pope to follow him.
“No, JJ -” You try to pull him back to you but he slips his wrist out of your grip. 
“JJ!” Pope calls out to JJ who walks in the direction the other three disappeared to. 
“JJ, stop!” Your voice cracks which makes JJ turn around to look at you. “Please. I just want to go home.”
JJ freezes and bites down on his bottom lip, feeling conflicted. His head is telling him to run after the Kooks and beat every single one of their faces in until he finds the one named Trevor. But his heart is telling him to walk back to you and take care of you. 
“Okay,” he decides and wraps his arm around your waist. “Let’s get you home.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
After you fall asleep later that night, JJ tip toes out of your room and silently shuts your door behind him. You passed out early, exhausted from the panic attacks and crying. In the living room, Pope, Kie, and John B are waiting. You had no other choice but to tell John B what happened. Now that Pope knew, it felt wrong keeping it from your brother as well. Of course it caused an argument, but in the end, John B only wants the best for you and to protect you. Which is why they’re here now.
“Ready to go?” JJ looks directly at your brother.
John B holds up his car keys. “Let’s go.”
“Whoa, where do you think you’re going?” Kie grabs John B by the elbow and glares at both of them.
“Where do you think?” JJ says.
When Pope and Kie stepped out of the room to check on you, JJ and John B both secretly decided that when you fell asleep, the two of them would sneak out and find this Trevor person and give him what he deserves. 
“Don’t be stupid,” Pope says, looking between the two. “You know how this works. The two of you end up getting in trouble and he gets to walk away clean.”
“I don’t care. I’ll kill him -”
“You can’t,” Kie says.
“I’m not asking for your permission, Kie!”
“Where’s the gun?” Kie says. “If you’re going to do this, I’m not letting you bring the gun. Leave it here.”
JJ looks up at John B who reluctantly nods his head for JJ to give it up. The blonde sighs and reaches into the back of his waistband and pulls it out.
“This is a bad idea,” Pope says again even though he knows the other two don’t give a shit. In a way, he kind of respects it. He would go to if he didn’t have a scholarship to worry about.
“Keep an eye on her. We’ll be back in a couple hours,” John B says.
“You better hope you are. Because if you’re not, you’re only going to be making this worse for her,” Kie tells them.
Kie’s words have both John B and JJ rethinking their decision. But only for a split second. 
JJ nods. “Don’t worry. I’d never leave my girl behind.”
1K notes · View notes
lluvguts · 4 years ago
Text
stargazing // byler
pairing: will byers / mike wheeler & eleven / max mayfield
genre/warnings: mainly fluff! some soft angst
word count: 2502
summary:  Where the party goes laser tagging for Will's 16th birthday and something happens that Mike will never forget aka that first kiss no one asked for.
n/a: post season 3 spoilers!! you’ve been warned!
March 22nd, 1987
6:37 pm
“Lucas, I don’t even care if it’s Will’s birthday, so help me if you crash this car I’m making Eleven open the gate and feed you to the Demodogs,” Dustin yelled from the front seat of the Henderson’s van with the rest of the group piled in the back.
“El can’t do that anymore, genius.” Max had her hands clasped in Eleven’s lap.
“I have my license, Dustin. Stop freaking out,” Lucas groaned but still reduced his speed by a few miles.
“Lie-sense?” Eleven looked to Max.
“Can we please stop arguing?” Mike hollered over the shouting from the back of the van, as well as Max’s arm stretching across the console to crank the volume louder on the radio.
The party had decided to celebrate Will Byer’s sixteenth birthday in the most acceptable way possible: laser tag. The boys had outgrown Dungeons & Dragons—for the most part—but that didn’t stop them from pooling their money and planning on spending the night shooting each other with lasers and eating junk food like children; if anything it brought back the nostalgia of their middle school antics. The girls, on the other hand, didn’t care for the game as much—although Eleven had a difficult time wrapping her head around the entire idea of laser tagging—and they only went for the sake of Will and to spend time together.
The van slowly turned into the parking lot of the laser tag center and the chatter subsided.
“Is this what you wanted for your birthday?” Mike turned to Will. The other boy gave a shy smile and nodded. No matter how many weeks since they’d announced their relationship to the party and their parents—even realizing it themselves—Will’s affectionate gestures made Mike’s heart beat a little faster, and his eyes linger on the boy’s face a little longer. He wasn’t used to it yet, he’d never been in a real relationship. And his smile is driving me mad.
Will took Mike’s hand and pulled him out of the last row of seats. As he jumped down from the van Mike’s eyes flickered to his shorts. Only briefly. Were they always that..short? His heart leapt from his chest and he looked away, embarrassed, only to find their intertwined fingers. Will caught Mike’s flustered expression.
“What?” he laughed and held up their hands, “Do you want me to stop?”
“No!” Mike said, his face reddening. “Uh, I mean, you don’t have to. Sorry, it’s just all so new-“
“Hey! Birthday boy! Get over here! You too, stupid,” Max called, pointing to the Polaroid camera in her hands while the rest of the group huddled around the front entrance for the photo.
Will smiled up at the dark haired boy and lead them over to the others. Max held the camera out in front of her as the rest of the group filed behind her, grinning. Will snaked his hand over Mike’s shoulders and Eleven draped her arms around Max from behind.
“Cheese!”
“Mike, stop looking at Will, look at the camera,” Lucas snapped.
They all laughed as the light flashed.
“I took a few, so you all get a copy.” Max let the film develop for a few seconds and handed them each a photo. Mike took one and before he slid it into his pocket he showed it to Will, both staring at their cheeky grins. He already knew where he’d keep the photo—on the bulletin board in his bedroom, amongst ticket stubs, poems and sketches Will had done, and photos of the group when they were younger; right next to the many polaroids he’d snapped of Will. A collage of his hazel eyes. His beautiful, bright eyes.
“Cute, Mikey,” Will whispered. Was he talking about the picture? Or him?
Will briefly touched Mike’s shoulder then caught up with the rest of them, leaving him to stare at the smiles on the film, hiding his blush.
7:02 pm
“Boys against girls!”  
“How is that fair?” Eleven hissed, “It’s just the two of us.”
“We can join a group that’s already in there,” Will added.
“You’re all such a headache. Let’s just split it into two groups. Me, Mike and Dustin on the red team. Will, Lucas and Eleven on blue. Deal?” Max counted off on her fingers.
Mike looked around the area as the others went with their teams and pulled on the correct vests and guns.
“Need some help?” Max asked and went to her girlfriend’s side, she was holding the gear in her arms with a startled expression like she was handling a bomb. She giggled as Max guided the heavy vest over her head and adjusted it to her small waist. Eleven watched it all in wonder, then looked up at her face.
“Pretty,” She said to Max and leaned in for a hug, their pink cheeks pressed close.
“See Will? It’s that simple,” Dustin whispered loudly and then chuckled while he watched the girls. Will punched Dustin in the arm and his eyes quickly met Mike’s from across the neon lit waiting room.
Will was about to say something to him, not in words. In his stare. But the booming voice from the overhead speaker filled the room.
“Game begins in five,” The announcer said.
“Alright. I’m going to go with my team. You remember the rules?” Max had her hands on Eleven’s shoulders, staring into her eyes.
Mike tried to make Will look again, but he was talking to Dustin as they headed into a different room. What was he going to say? What was so simple?
Eleven pointed to Max’s glowing chest, “Shoot the red vests. Hide. Be quiet.”
“See? You’ll do great,” Max hugged her one last time and went over to the door, “But, I am going to win.”
“We’ll see about that, Mad Max.” Lucas shouted and patted their shoulders companionably.
A buzzer sounded as the main doors opened; Mike’s team rushed inside to station themselves around the maze. The arena was pitch black save for the neon lights across the carpeted floor and a constellation of yellow artificial stars on the ceiling. He knew that Will’s team was somewhere on the opposite side, lurking in the shadows. Waiting to stake the perfect moment to strike. The visual made Mike’s heart race and he was drowning in worry.
He could only think of Will. It’s gonna be just like that time at the arcade. Just like Halloween. He’s gonna be walking and everything’s fine until someone jumps out and it triggers a memory in his mind. What if he can’t control it, and the figure in front of him suddenly turns into a Demogorgon? Or the Mind Flayer in his head?
Mike crept around the curved bend in the maze and quietly ducked into a dark alcove to think. A shout suddenly echoed and floated up into the air, the resonant cry drifting to Mike’s ears. To anyone else the sound only meant that someone had gotten caught off guard and a laser to the chest.
What if that’s Will? Is he okay?  
Mike sat up slowly, hoping to find Will and make sure he was safe; he turned his head around the edge of the alcove and in the sound of slamming plastic someone crashed into him. He staggered back, registering the face.
“Oh. Will, thank God. I was going to see-“
Before he could get out the last of his sentence Will took the barrel of his laser gun and pinned Mike back against the alcove wall.
He couldn’t speak.
Mike only watched Will draw his lips up to his mouth, frozen in surprise. Will squeezed the trigger as their lips parted at the same time, as though they’d wanted this from the start. He kissed Will back and shuddered when he felt a brush of those teeth along the front of his flushed lips; Mike dropped his gun and grabbed at his face, embracing the startling sensation when Will pressed himself closer, trapping him. Oh God, don’t move. Don’t pull away, Mike pleaded.  
The trigger went off and Mike’s vest buzzed and filled the space with flashing red light—but Will didn’t let go. He just rooted him in place by the tip of the gun, its weight carrying all throughout the plastic front of his vest and into his pounding heart.
Will sighed into his open mouth, making Mike shudder involuntarily before he moved his body away. The air was filled with the sound of their shaky breathing.
“That’s what I wanted for my birthday,” Mike’s heart sped up at his gruff, breathy voice.
Mike reached for him again, “W-Wait-“
“Shhh,” Will whispered and placed his hand on Mike’s face, smirking, “You’re dead, Wheeler.”
He rushed out of the alcove with a smile plastered on his face before Mike could run after him. The vest shook once more, signaling his loss, before the color faded and died. Mike slid down onto the floor and brought his fingers to his hot cheeks. His lips started to burn as the last few minutes replayed in his head, making his breathing turn ragged again and his stomach twist back into messy, feverish knots.
Mike felt the pulse roar in his ears, still staring at the empty space where Will was only moments before. Where he’d just kissed him.
What just happened?
8:49 pm
“Our team,” Eleven started, staring hopelessly out the car window into the night, “Lost.”
“Yep,” Dustin sighed, “That’s what happens when you’re up against the best.”
Mike ignored their arguing and stared out the back window at the stars. They covered the dark sky, too many to count, thousands of glittering and radiant sparks—they reminded him of Will’s eyes. So full of amber light and happiness, no matter the circumstance.
“Hey.” Mike flinched when there was a tap on his shoulder. Any touch from him and Mike turned into a live wire, his lungs forgot how to work and his heart thrashed wildly inside his aching chest. He longed to let Will’s touch linger, to sustain the burning, fluttering sensation.
“Yeah?” He whispered, taking the time to even his breathing before he looked at Will.
His eyes flickered between Mike’s, searching his face. “Was that alright?”
“Was what alright?”
“Back in the arena..you know..”
Mike’s cheeks burned tomato red as he remembered the softness of his lips and quickly murmured, “Oh, yeah. That was really nice Will, I just-“
“What?” He leaned in, as if getting closer would help to understand. Mike’s body tensed at the hurt beginning to show on Will’s face.
“It..kinda caught me off guard.”
Will paused. “Do you want me to ask you next time? If it’s okay?”
Mike nodded.
Will smiled at their bodies, intentionally placed as far apart as possible. “Can I hold your hand?”
He nodded again and Will slipped his hand into Mike’s, letting his fingers trail absently along the front of his knuckles.
“Mike, this is your stop,” Lucas said from the driver’s seat. Will held his hand tighter.
“Could I come too?” Will asked him quietly, “My mom wouldn’t mind.”
“Of course,” Mike hid his red face as he climbed over the back seat to the car door.
“Aight. Happy birthday, Will,” Dustin said and waved at the two.
He gave Dustin a shy smile. “Thanks, guys. It was really fun.”
“Don’t do anything stupid!” Max shouted out the window as the van sped away.
They stared at each other for a moment, in the quiet of the night, standing in front of the Wheeler’s unlit driveway. Until the front door swung open and Nancy was calling from the porch.
“Guess we better go in then,” Mike whispered, caught up in Will’s gaze.
He looked away, grinning. “Yeah.”
9:02 pm
“There’s so many photos here,” Will inspected the cork board on Mike’s wall. When they’d went inside Mike opened the window above his bed to let the peaceful night sounds in, and allow the stars outside to watch.
“Wait a minute,” Will touched a piece of paper tacked on the board, “I drew this.”
“I love your art, Will. How could I not hang it up?” Mike smiled up at him, so full of affection. He’s adorable when he’s flustered. Will muttered something under his breath and his face turned pink.
“Oh, right!” Mike got off his bed and joined his side. He handed over the Polaroid photo from his pocket, “You can pick the spot to put it up if you want.”
Will studied the picture, as if seeing it for the first time. He was close, close enough that Mike could see every detail of his face, see the curve of his lips that had fit so perfectly in his own.
“You’re so cute.” He pointed to Mike in the photo, then tore a piece of tape to hang the Polaroid next to a small drawing. A pencil sketch of Mike, with a caption at the bottom in Will’s handwriting: my Paladin.
“Y-you’re uh, pretty cute too,” Mike stammered. When Will finished hanging the picture he turned around and followed him to the bed, his head tipping up so their eyes met. The air suddenly felt very warm as they sat chest to chest—silent except for the crickets outside—until Will spoke softly.
“Mikey, can I ask something?” His hazel eyes never left his face.
Mike didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath.
“Anything.”
Will was leaning back on his hands, and decidedly scooted closer. “Can you..hold me please?”
His eyes widened. Will’s request was so gentle that it made Mike’s heart burn for him. The desire to have him in his arms. “Of course I will.”
Mike took his hands and wrapped them around his neck, leaning them back on the comforter, drawing him closer than they’d ever been before. Will nestled his cheek to Mike’s chest as he faced the stars out the open window, his legs eased down to rest snug by his sides.
“Is this okay?” Will asked, tilting his head up so he could nestle into Mike’s neck. His soft brown hair brushed Mike’s skin and sent goosebumps racing up his arms. He closed his eyes and rubbed Will’s back in comforting circles.
“It’s perfect,” He said.
Will yawned. “This was such a great birthday.”
“Yeah?”
“Duh, I had my first kiss.” Will murmured, his fingers under Mike’s neck started to play with his dark curls.
“Tired?” Mike asked, his hands never leaving his back.
“Only a little,” He replied with a drowsy smile against his chest.
He laughed and put a hand gingerly on Will’s face to move a strand of hair. In the minutes that followed he let Will fall asleep while he studied the stars outside, listened to the heartbeat of the boy on top of him, the drawing on the cork-board. The title scrawled beneath.
“My Cleric,” Mike whispered to the stars.
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nanaminokanojo · 3 years ago
Text
Play the Game | Nanami Kento X You | Part 5/8
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CHARACTERS: Nanami Kento X You (fem!reader | PLEASE READ THE NOTES BELOW*) | Gojo Satoru | Geto Suguru | Shoko Ieiri | Utahime Iori | other JJK Characters CHAPTER COUNT: 5/8 WORD COUNT: 3,900+ GENRE: romance | fluff | slight angst | smut | ooc depictions | female reader with described appearance* | modern au | rich people au | aged up characters CHAPTER TRIGGER WARNING: profanity| cigarette smoking | age gap | strong/mature/suggestive language | drug use SPOILERS: n/a STATUS: COMPLETED
collection masterlist
one - two - three - four - five - six - seven - eight
"Play the Game" Masterlist
The autumn winds heralded more clement weather, carrying the tart scent of peaches and pine in the air. With the balmier weather, everyone in the estate had taken their opportunity to be outdoors. Nanami himself had been dragged out and was walking with everyone who cared to go to the private orchards when at breakfast, the groundskeeper announced that everyone can go peach picking.
He watched from across the table as the object of his attraction visibly lit up, your glorious blue eyes brightening exponentially. You loved peach picking and he loved seeing you all excited over small things. But it turned out to be something of a disappointment when your attention turned to Geto instead of him, inviting him to go with you.
“You’re coming, aren’t you?” you asked expectantly, giggling like a little girl when Geto nodded, placing an arm over your shoulder and hugging you to his side while he said, “Anything for my favorite girl.”
My favorite girl. He had to stop himself from being petty and scoffing at the very thought of it. His annoyance was further validated when you generalized your invitation, saying anyone who wished to could come, voiced out by Yuuji who pouted at you and said you should have been inviting him since he loved picking peaches as much as you did.
That was just how it was with you when it comes to Geto. You forget everyone around you the moment he makes an appearance, and it seemed Nanami wasn’t an exception. He could accept that in the past. Ever since, you had been vocal about your preference for the dark-haired man who spoiled you to no end, letting you have your way and without fail made you smile and laugh like you never do with anyone else. When their group would go out, travel or do something else recreational, you’d always be where Geto was, dangling by his arm. You mellowed out with him when you met Yuuji, but the truth is that Geto Suguru is your favorite among your older brother’s friends.
This time, however, he couldn’t rest easy with you interacting that way with said male. If he was being honest, he only agreed to go peach picking after Gojo made him tag along because he wanted to keep a close eye on you. He was also being obvious about it with the way he was trailing you with his eyes every other five seconds, the realization dawning into him when Shoko walked beside him, grinning as she took a long drag from her cigarette.
“If you want to be with her, just do it,” the woman told him, easily reading him as usual. “You look like you’re about to blow your top.”
Nanami just glanced at you, his eyes involuntarily flicking to your familiar figure now circling around Geto as you walked, your hands and arms animatedly making big gestures as you seemingly explained something to him. He felt his temper rise when the male grabbed your arm, pulling you towards him so he could wrap an arm around you, his dark eyes finding Nanami over his shoulder in a sly taunt.
Shoko clucked her tongue, shaking her head. “We all know, Kento.” She glanced behind her where Gojo and Utahime were walking. “Only that white-haired idiot seems to know nothing. Or he pretends not to know.” She sighed. “I can’t blame him though. She used to be this really cute bundle of joy, but look at her now. She’s a grown woman.”
He couldn’t disagree with that. He knew exactly just how much of a woman you have become physically and mentally. What he doesn’t understand was why you weren’t walking with him instead while you’d be sneaking around with him, stealing kisses and hugs from him since the previous day when the pair of you returned from the lake.
At the rehearsal the previous night, you had stuck to him like glue, not that he minded. You purposefully touched him even when everyone was watching, running your fingers over his arm, leaning against him while everyone waited for their turn to practice their part for the ceremony and holding his hand while he sat with you in the garden during breaks, all the while feigning innocence to your actions. You even went to the extent of wrapping an arm around his waist while Gojo was speaking to you. The man, obviously aggravated, narrowed his eyes at you before turning on his heels and leaving.
“God, he’s so frustratingly dumb,” you muttered under breath, watching him leave. Only you had the guts (and right if Nanami was being honest) to call your brother dumb. It somehow made Nanami think that you were really just doing things to get a rise out of Gojo for whatever reason or whatever complex you had with him, but what confused him was that you didn’t stop even if your male clone wasn’t looking.
It was no different at the dinner that followed at the restaurant the family had rented for the night. You purposefully said you forgot something, declaring that you will be riding with Nanami instead, tossing your car keys to Megumi who saluted him while snickering with Nobara. Yuuji, being the most annoying of your three friends, deliberately bumped against him and said, “Make the most of it, Nanamin.”
He would have smacked the boy at the back of his head if the conniving little sprite dragging him around didn’t pull him towards his car. “Wait for them to leave,” you told him as you boarded his car.
“I thought you forgot something.” His lips quirked upwards, already realizing what you were playing at, but before he could say anything more, you grabbed him by the collar, silencing him with your lips. That ended up with you two being half an hour late to dinner after that one kiss turned into a full-on make-out session in his car with you sitting astride his lap while he kissed you stupid.
When both of you finally got to the restaurant, he expected you to let go of him, but you boldly walked with him to your designated seats, holding onto his hand as you led the way. He did not miss the way your parents were looking at the two of you, but he pretended not to notice. Your father was rather approving which was a relief but your mom was just confused. He could just surmise that your friends were in on it when you ended up sitting on the same table, reserving two seats for him and you, further proven when you exchanged high-fives with Nobara who, in turn, winked at Nanami. Of course, he thought, they knew.
You engaged in conversations with your friends for most of the duration of the dinner, but you never failed to smile his way or wink at him when you think no one’s watching. You didn’t ride home with him since he had to drive stupid Gojo after he got too drunk to function and instead drove your car with your pals. You and your friends didn’t come back for another hour, but when you got home, you rifled through the house, loudly asking everyone where he was.
Nanami had to suppress laughter as he crossed the foyer on his way to the stairs and saw how you pushed past Suguru to make your way towards him, latching onto his arm and announcing to everyone that you will walk him to his room cause he might get lost. You had giddily stuck to what you said you’ll do when he noticed how your eyes were bloodshot and you had that odd smile on your face.
“Sweetheart, are you high?” he asked, gently holding you at arm’s length. He already knew the answer to his question when he caught a whiff of weed on your hair. Typically, he’d scold you, but the way you were tittering for no reason was just too adorable for him to handle.
“Don’t be mad,” you said to him, attempting to pout, but you couldn’t in your state. You then started poking his cheek that he eventually had to hold your hands away from him. When you finally stopped laughing, you blinked up at him and said, “I want you to kiss me.”
He didn’t have to be told twice as he pulled you to a side hallway, pushing you against the wall, giving you a peck. You whined loudly. “You call that a kiss?” you complained.
“Be specific, love. How do you want me to kiss you?” he teased, leaning his forehead against yours, trying hard not to laugh as he held you back, preventing you from touching him. He was already aware of how you could easily take the reins and dominate him.
You smirked at him. “Kiss me dumb. Pretty please with a cherry on top, Kento?” You seemed to have discovered that calling him by his given name has become his weakness, and you succeeded because in the next second, he was all over you, prying your mouth open with his tongue as he pressed you against the wall with his body. You submitted to his touches, pulling him closer, your sensuous lips and the sweet flavor of your tongue driving him insane. Before he lost control, he walked you back to your room, defeating the purpose of you walking him to his.
But now, he had to watch you being monopolized by Geto.
He sighed. He could trust Shoko to shed off pretenses for once.
“You okay?” she asked.
He nodded. “I know she’s really fond of Suguru, but I can’t help but –” What was it that he felt exactly?
“You’re jealous. It’s natural especially when she was all clingy with you yesterday.” She chuckled. Shoko couldn’t have been more right, but the scene playing out before him was the least of his problems. It ran deeper than just the moment at hand.
Nanami promised to keep it a secret as Geto’s friend although it killed him a thousand times when three years ago, just a week before the time he had to haul you out of a bathtub after your cocaine episode, the male came to him, confiding that he wanted to pursue you romantically.
“Good luck on that,” he remembered telling Geto, feeling that same pang of envy pervading his system, but then the latter said, “It’s just that she said she likes someone else.” He looked at Nanami sharply as if he was angry at him for some reason, but retracted to his easy-going mood. “Forget I said anything. I can’t have her.”
“Why is that?” Nanami asked then.
At that, Geto smiled, sadness crossing his features. “I don’t deserve her.”
At odd to his words three years ago, Geto was as close to you as ever. You’re obviously still very fond of him. Still, Nanami wasn’t sure what the intention was behind Geto’s calculated actions. The man was just as aggravating as you are with your mutual penchant for games and keeping people on their toes.
Shoko stole him back from his reverie. “Just put a label on it already. She likes you, too, you know.”
“How do you know that?” he asked.
“Seriously?” She burst out laughing then. “Men are such dense creatures.”
“That’s offensive.”
“So is your obliviousness.”
“What does that even mean?”
She shook her head, her laughter dissipating. “Talk to her and find out.”
**
“I saw what you were doing with Kento last night.”
You looked at Geto who was walking beside you, not really knowing how to respond to his observations and settling for twirling the wicker basket you were holding. He flashed you a knowing smile, already used to your behavior when you were puzzling something in your head, caught up in your own bubble.
“I’m not as frustrated about Nanamin as much as I am with Satoru.” You sighed, remembering how your brother just walked away when he saw you holding onto Nanami, annoyed as if he thinks you were just trying to rile him up. “He’s so dense with things like this.”
“You’re one to talk,” Geto stated frankly, snickering at your appalled reaction. “On a more serious note, why?”
Letting up on your scowl, you said, “Well, he’s being a bitch about how I never tell him anything anymore. He asked whether I liked Nanamin and what was going on when I was being very obvious. I kissed the man in front of him, for heaven’s sake.”
“Sweetie, that’s not straightforward at all. You know yourself better than anyone, and seriously, even I get all confused as to whether you’re just messing with everyone, not to mention that you’re so erratic that we just don’t know what to expect from you.” Geto eyed you placatingly, letting you know that he was being earnest.
You easily laugh and smile because of him, but he just as easily offends your by being so brutally straightforward. You’re realizing that now that he was acting more like your older brother, and you knew you couldn’t get offended when you wanted assurance. “I just want to include him all the time but his reactions are so fucking infuriating. He treats me like a kid crushing on his friend if anything.”
“So, why not talk to him about it?”
“I don’t want to sit down and talk to him about it as if I’m asking for permission or approval. I love Satoru to smithereens – don’t tell him that – but he doesn’t get a say about what I want in life especially not where the people I date are concerned especially since he seems to have an aversion to me being attracted to any of you guys ever since I turned twelve.”
Geto chortled. “So you’ve been crushing on Kento since you were a kid?”
You made a face at him, punching him on the arm. “No, idiot. I liked you first.”
His eyes widened in surprise. “What?”
You momentarily stopped walking. “Yes, but then I found out what a womanizer you are but I won’t even venture into that. I’m not really fond of martyrdom,” you deadpanned.
Not even hiding his affront, he walked back to your spot and flicked you on the forehead. “I’m very offended you’d say that to me!”
“It’s true though.” You laughed, reaching over to squish his face before walking around him in circles. “If you think I’ll cry over your pretty face, you couldn’t have been more mistaken. Besides, I don’t want to share.”
“Now you’re just being a jerk.” He placed a hand over his chest, feigning insult. “I’m hurt, baby.”
“You deserve it for kissing that cheap model wannabe in front of me on your first runway show.”
“My, my. Your tongue’s loose today. Tell me more.”
“I settled for thinking I’ll just steal you from Satoru to be my best friend. Well, that’s before I met Yuuji. I guess I was just really jealous of what you and Satoru had. I wanted everything he had anyway until I realized that’s now how it works and there were things about me he couldn’t have either. Makes it fair.” You chuckled, finally making it in front of him. “Like that personalized plush bear you gave me on my eighteenth birthday. Man, that was huge.”
Laughing with you, he held onto your arm, pulling you close to him, glancing behind him.
“What are you looking at?” you asked, still giggling.
“Your boy toy would have killed me with those looks he’d been throwing at my direction since breakfast,” Geto whispered to you, making you look over your shoulder, too. There, you found Nanami, looking so breathtakingly gorgeous with the rakish way his hair had been styled and his chiseled physique outlined by the long-sleeved running top he had on. He’s been dressing more casually recently much to your satisfaction.
“Don’t call him that, He’s not my boy toy.” You couldn’t help but smile like an idiot. “Sometimes, I have to stop myself from jumping his bones.”
It was Geto’s turn to make a face at you. “Sweetheart, I love you, but don’t say those things to me. Anyway, are you two together now?”
You tensed slightly and shook your head. “That’s up to him.”
“What?” He scoffed. “In case you’re not aware, you’re a prize. Don’t go doing all the work.”
“I know.”
“He should fight for it, too, if he wants you.”
“So Yuuji says.”
“He’s right.” Geto stopped walking, placing his hands on your shoulders. “You know I love you right?”
You nodded, poking fun at him. “More than your hoes, I hope.”
He clucked his tongue, rolling his eyes at you. “I’m being serious here. You may think I’m a hedonistic bastard who only thinks about getting laid all the time, but you’re a different story, sweetheart. I treasure you like Satoru does, and if I see something wrong, it’s my duty to tell you.”
Seeing the somber look on his face, your smile dropped. “What are you getting at?”
“I don’t want you to get hurt,” he began. “Kento is a good man, better than Satoru and I combined to tell you the truth. But when it comes to things like this, he has the tendency to be indecisive.”
Your heart dropped, feeling nervous all of a sudden as your eyes widened in fear at the prospect. “Are you saying he doesn’t like me?”
“Honey, he loves you. I know so.” He snorted. “Bastard can’t even resist you anymore by the looks of it, but trust me when I say he’s going to over-analyze things because there are so many things to consider instead just going for it.”
“You mean Satoru?” you griped.
“One of them anyway.”
“O…kay.” You pouted in perplexity. “How would you advise me to proceed?”
Geto finally let up on the seriousness, bursting out laughing. “The gods are fair, aren’t they?”
Understanding why he was laughing, you punched him on the arm again. “I know I’m dumb at this, but at least try acting like the older, more mature one here. You should be flattered I’m coming to you for shit like this at all.”
Still laughing, he pulled you close and hugged you, planting a chaste kiss on the top of your head. When he was calm enough, he breathed out and squeezed you tighter. “Talk to him and be direct about it.”
**
You decided to approach Nanami when you spotted him alone under one of the trees, reading a book. The forgotten basket of peaches beside him, only half-filled, was indicative that he forgot about the activity at hand and is in his own world again. You adored his quiet side, the way he kept to himself, unafraid to be alone and always comfortable in his solitude, so much so that you hesitated to disturb him.
Quietly, you stalked towards him, making sure not to make any sudden sounds, but being him, he was immediately able to perceive your presence.
"You have a very dark taste in literature as a child," Nanami spoke when you’re within earshot, sensing your presence.
You frowned, sitting beside him, confused at first but upon seeing your battered copy of "Coraline" sitting on his lap, you understood what he meant. "Where did you find that?"
"In the library." He finally met your gaze, his expressions unfathomable. "I remembered you gushing about it when you first read it."
You nodded in understanding, but couldn't quite keep your mind in the conversation, plagued with thoughts of what Geto told you earlier. He was saying something about your fascination for the horror genre, but you cut him short, saying, "Can I ask you something?"
Nanami tilted his head slightly at the question, his quizzical gaze prompting you to proceed.
"What are we?" you blurted out, your blue eyes quite unable to meet his dark ones. You don't exactly know what was making you behave with such uncertainty. After all the times you had been confident where he was concerned, you were suddenly scared. You didn't fear being rejected by anyone. It has always been the case for you since you’re younger, but you were afraid of not knowing, of not being sure.
Nanami looked at you, deep in thought for a few moments until he finally told you, "That's up to you, isn't it?" His tone had a bite to it.
Unable to place where he was coming from at the moment, you hesitated. You rummaged through your head about what his response to you could imply, frowning when you came up with nothing. "What?" you said, thinking it better to ask.
"You heard me." He shrugged, opening the book to the page he was reading. By the looks of it, he was trying his best to ignore you.
You fought the urge to pose barb at him, too, wanting nothing but to get a straight response from him. "Why is it up to me?" You totally didn't understand, thinking it ought to be a decision the pair of you should make. Wasn’t that how it worked?
Silently cursing at the whole situation, you contemplated on your past relationships. All of them seemed less complicated. They liked you, you liked them. You decide to date, and when things don’t work out, the arrangement is broken off. High school and college boys were irritating to say the least, but you were expecting it to be a lot more straightforward with Nanami because he’s a mature adult. Now it seemed like you were in one of those previous relationships again.
“Elaborate on that,” you prompted him, seriously at a loss.
He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Is this another game of yours?"
To say you’re appalled by his odd line of questioning was an understatement. Unable to control your emotions anymore, you stood up. "What are you talking about?" You burst out laughing without mirth. For once, you’re being direct with what you wanted. For once, you weren't playing and yet all you get are questions being thrown at you.
"Go play with Suguru. He seems to enjoy your antics more than anyone," he told you coldly.
"What are you on about?" you demanded from him. “I’m asking you a simple question.”
Nanami flashed you a tired smile. "Nothing."
"Nothing?"
He also stood up, obviously exasperated. "Look, I honestly don't know what we are. I'm not sure." He sighed when you eyed him in disappointment but that expression turned into icy indifference very quickly.
"You don't know," you repeated, nodding. "Okay. I see how it is."
For the first time in years, you felt stupid, so much so that you felt like tearing all the hair off your scalp. You didn't understand what was wrong with Nanami but so many thoughts ran through your head at the same time. You thought you might have asked too early. You thought maybe you read things between the two of you wrong. On top of all that, you felt so overwhelmed with anger over his response that you couldn't think straight, but you were also afraid of saying anything else in case your inner demon decides to jump out.
Turning away, you started walking away. You heard him call your name but you didn't look back, suppressing the urge to go back to him and instead storming out of the orchard. You didn't understand what the dull ache in your chest meant but you knew you couldn't handle it.
-end of part 5-
*I used “you” here, but since my character is Gojo’s little sister who is established to be his female clone for reasons essential to the plot, she possesses the same blue eyes and white hair. I did not exactly want to create an OC (although technically, I did by describing Y/N), but I opted for the best of both worlds in this fic, leaning more towards the literary aspect of it as opposed to it just being reader/you-oriented. I hope this isn’t iffy to anyone, and yeah, i’m not being exclusive or whatever.
Thank you so much for reading. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed it.
© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY GEGE AKUTAMI'S “JUJUTSU KAISEN.” [20210731]
PHOTO/IMAGE/GIF/FANART CREDITS TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.
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loving-all-for-loki · 3 years ago
Text
Voiceless Love Chapter 6: Downfall
Loki x reader, Bucky x reader
Word Count: 3452
Warnings: angst, lots and lots of angst, some Loki fluff, swearing
A/N: I’m sorry. I cried while writing this and had to take a break to gather myself. It’s a rough one
Tag List: @caffeineoverloadandstudying @zizzlekwum @buckylokisimp @daddysfavoritesexkitten @lokiyoulittle @magicalpieex
You spend three days in bed with Loki resting after the Bucky incident. Even though you’ve been able to get up, Loki refuses to let you do anything and forces you to lay all day with him serving you hand and foot. The team watches in disbelief as Loki makes you lunch, gets you your clothes, and even slipped your fingernails once. They find excuses to walk past Loki’s room to spy on you two, but they always catch Loki reading to you or you asleep.
“You can’t be really mad at him. He’s taking care of her,” Natasha states. “Yes, that may be the case, but what are his intentions? She’s not a super soldier or a government trained assassin. She can’t defend herself if Reindeer Games decides to pull any tricks,” Tony pipes in.
“Tony’s right,” Bucky says, “She’s not a superhero in the sense we are.”
“You boys are so paranoid. Obviously, they got closer while we were gone. Is that such a bad thing? Loki finding someone who calms him and makes him kinder?”
“Yes.”
Nat rolls her eyes at Tony and Bucky, sitting down on the lounge seats. 
“What are we discussing? I heard my brother's name.”
Thor enters the room which gains everyone’s attention. Steve and Sam put down their sandwiches and tune into the conversation.
“We’re discussing Loki’s intentions with Y/N.” Nat informs.
“Oh, it is very sweet isn’t it?”
“Not to Tony.”
“It’s like he’s grooming her!”
Everyone groans in disgust. 
“Tony, I think you fail to realize how hard it is for Loki to connect to people, especially Midgardians yourself.”
“I don’t. I know he’s an arrogant prick whose head is shoved up his ass.”
“Yes, he thinks highly of himself, but he’s capable of feelings beyond pride and rage.”
“Most people aren’t like you Tony,” Steve jokes, which earns him a hard look from the billionaire.
“But with Y/N? Someone who’s so defenseless and vulnerable?” Bucky adds in.
-
Loki comes in with a bowl of mac n’ cheese, setting it before you.
“I had to get Thor to help me. I’m very good with Midgard technology. I’m not even sure what a microwave really is.”
You chuckle inside at Loki’s innocence and start eating the macaroni before he joins you on the bed, his arm resting over your shoulders. You lean your head against his as the two of you watch some history documentary Loki was intrigues by. Since you’ve been in bed for three days, you’ve only been watching shows and movies you like so you gave Loki a chance. He felt bad then complained about poor Midgard entertainment, but as soon as you showed him the history channel, he changed his mind.
You take your pen beside you and grab Loki’s hand that’s gently rubbing your back. On the side of his index, you write thank you for everything.
“Oh course, little one. You need to be well rested.”
Do you think I could get my own water?
Loki looks beside him to see your glass empty and sighs.
“I suppose you can.”
You smile up at him before getting out of bed. It’s weird to feel the cold floors on your feet after spending so much time under thick warm blankets. You shuffle your way over to the other side of the bed and take the glass. Loki keeps an eye on you as you make your way around, ready to pounce at grab you if you fall over and pass out. You give him a smile and pat on the shoulder before making your way to the door.
Taking your time, you walk down the hallway and hear your name come up in conversation. You stop right before the entrance to the living room, your hands shaking as you grip the glass cup tightly.
“But with Y/N? Someone who’s so defenseless and vulnerable?”
“I know it seems what you would say sketchy, but Loki’s intentions are honorable.”
“And Buck, you’ve seen the way she is with you. She holds onto your metal arm. She’s not afraid of most things other people are,” Steve adds.
Listening to them discuss you like they know you is irritating. Bucky goes on to talk about how weak and fragile you are and the others don’t disagree. They add comments about Loki that infuriate you. ‘He’s dangerous’. ‘He’s using her’. ‘He’s tricking her’. It didn’t feel like manipulation when he made you tea last night. It didn’t feel like manipulation when he explained book plots you didn’t understand. Why did they see him for someone he isn’t? Why do they still hold New York against him as if it was completely him?
You get pulled out of your thoughts when you hear Bucky speak again.
“I don’t like that he went after someone so innocent and defenseless like her.”
You step into their sight as soon as the words leave Bucky’s mouth. Everyone turns to stare at you, realizing you heard them talking about you. Bucky’s eyes go wide at the hurt expression written across your face, realizing he had messed up.
“How much did you hear?” Steve asks.
You slowly and nervously shake your head in disgust. Bucky takes a step forward to come near you but you stumble over your feet as you back up, falling and landing on your wrists. Tears start forming in your eyes as you look back up at the team, specifically Bucky who looks likes he just ran over someone’s dog.
“Y/N, you know I didn’t mean-”
You shake your head and run back down the hallway, ignoring Bucky’s pleads and the Avengers trying to diffuse the situation. Your vision was so clouded by the tears that you miss Loki coming up behind you and run straight into him.
“Woah, woah,” he gasps, grabbing your forearm as you stumble, “what’s-”. He notices the tears slowly falling down your face. “What did they do?”
You shake your head and push past him, retreating into yout room and under your blankets. Loki storms straight to the Avengers instead of with you.
“Tell me what in the nine realms you did to make her cry?”
The team is stunned as Loki raises his voice. There’s fury raging in his eyes, popping his veins out in anger. 
“She overheard something. It’s fine.” Sam says.
“Then tell me why she looks like someone hit her dog?”
Bucky puffs up his chest and walks straight up to Loki in a threatening manner, but Loki doesn’t react even an inch.
“Why do you care, huh? Why are you so attached to her? I thought you hated humans! That’s why you attacked New York right? You wanted to take control of us ‘weak humans’, but you failed, so what gives you the right to take her?”
“Are you implying she is weak?”
Bucky stays silent and holds his stoic look. 
“You are. That’s what you were saying, wasn’t it? She heard you call her weak.”
Loki scoffs at the soldier and looks to the other avengers for a sign of confirmation. They don’t meet his eyes with trigger alarms in his brain.
“You are all despicable. You know nothing about her. She is not as vulnerable as you think she is.”
“That’s not the point, Reindeer Games,” Tony cuts in, “The point is what are your intentions with her? Why do you want her so bad?”
“What? You think I’m manipulating or messing with her in some way. Is it impossible to imagine me liking someone’s presence?”
“Honestly, yes. We do. We’ve seen you do it in New York. Why can’t you do it now?”
There’s a deafening silence looming over the room. Loki’s eyes go cold as he clenches his fist, trying to not knock Tony out on the spot. Bucky still stands in his face, searching for some kind of vulnerable moment, but all he sees is fury in Loki’s face. He realizes they may be wrong in this situation. No one gets angry like this over nothing. They have never seen him like this before, so much so that even Thor takes a step away from his seething brother. Like nothing happened, Loki swivels and rushes away down the hall, but passes his room and goes straight to yours to find you balling underneath your sheets.
His anger does not go away, but only lessens as he removes the barrier between you two. He sees you curled into yourself, crying as if you had to get rid of every ounce of water in your body. No human has ever seemed so in need comfort to him before than now. Picking you up, he adjusts in bed with you on his lap, gripping your hands tight to his neck, burying your face in his chest. Loki pats your head and shushes you, trying to calm you down while his own burdens flash through his mind.
“I am absolutely outraged by those people,” he says, “how dare they speak like that about you. Do not listen, little one. You are stronger than you know and they are not aware. They do not know you like I know you.”
You continue to sob into him but the tears slow down. Heavy gasping turns into staggered breathing as your heart races less.
“I cannot fathom their incompetence. Pathetic Midgardians. I don’t think they’ll ever forgive me for my advances.”
“I forgive you.”
Loki snaps his head to look down at you, who is staring up at him, face flushed with tears. You had spoken.
Your voice. It’s unlike anything he’s ever heard and he only heard three words. Three so very important words he never thought he’d hear anyone say and you said it with such meaning. Such kindness and heart. It sounded like the heavens themselves opened up and relinquished its glory to him. He felt his body get a rush of warmth flowing through him, one that reminded him of being home with Frigga.
“Thank you,” he says, “I fear you may be the only one.”
He’s scared to say anything about you speaking and freak you out. If he has to go another lifetime without hearing your voice again, he’d never forgive himself.
“I’m tired,” you say sheepishly.
“Then go to bed, darling. I’ll still be here when you wake.”
-
You wake the next day to the sounds of crashing. Manly voices you have never heard before boom. Springing awake, you forget about Loki falling asleep next to you and accidentally elbow him in the face. “What the-”
“Loki, I’m sorry! I forgot-”
“It’s okay, little one. Accidents happen,” he groans.
The two of you get up off the bed for you to change. With a flick of the neck, Loki uses his magic to change into a three piece suit as he usually wears. You come out with a deep green overalls that makes him smile.
“I like it when you wear my colors.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Hearing your voice in the morning reminds him why he’s around. You’re so perfect in so many ways and that angelic noise only proves that more and more. The sounds of a male booming voice brings him out of his paradise. Taking your hand, the two of you enter the main room where the other Avengers are gathered with a man you’ve never seen before talking to Thor.
“Heimdall,” Loki announces, “what are you doing here?”
The man turns to see Loki standing next to you and doesn’t miss the interlocking of your hands. He turns to Thor who gives a weak smile and whispers something for only him to hear before looking back to you and the god.
“I am here to take you back to Asgard.”
“Father has requested you to come home and get punished for your actions on New York since you have been spending time here. He wants to take proper precautions on behalf of Asgard,” Thor adds.
“That’s ridiculous. He can’t beg for me now.”
“He can, brother, as I am afraid.”
You take Loki’s collar and bring his ear closer to you.
“Does that mean I won’t get to see you?”
“Don’t worry, darling. I won’t let them take me.”
Steve looks between Bucky and Tony who are staring wide eyed at your interaction with the god. Even Clint and Nat stare in awe as you have a private conversation, clearly speaking to Loki.
“What is happening?” Heimdall asks.
“She’s never spoken before,” Thor whispers.
“And she’s speaking to Loki? Why him?”
“I’ve said ‘I’m afraid’ many times and I’m going to say it again. I’m afraid they’ve bonded greatly. This will be an issue if All-Father intends to keep Loki in prison on Asgard.”
“Wonderful.”
Loki walks away from you and takes Thor’s arm, pulling him away to the side.
“Do you really expect me to fall for this?”
“For what?”
“Father wants me home. I know all he wants is to throw me in some cage for eternity. I’m not going no matter how much you plead or even if Father wants to come down here himself and drag me through the Bifrost.””
“There’s nothing I can do. Heimdall had strict orders.”
You walk over to Bucky who puts a protective arm around you, trying to ignore the pain of being second to comfort. He kisses the top of your forehead which you smile for. A glimmer of hope rests in Bucky’s heart that you still have feelings for him despite spending all your time with Loki. You hold to him tight, hugging him around his waist, in anxiousness. You can’t imagine if Loki is gone, the one person you trust the most, you haven't hurt before.
“I can’t leave Y/N,” Loki whispers, “I don’t think you understand that.”
“Brother, I understand your connection to her, but I-”
“Don’t say you have no choice. You can go back to Father and tell him that I’m not coming.”
“You know I can’t do that.”
“Yes, you can.”
“No, I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.”
“No, I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.”
“There’s no point in arguing about this, Loki. You have to go home.”
“What will happen to her, then? She’ll be stuck here with people who treat her like a child.”
“She’ll be fine. She’s a big girl.”
“Not to them. To them she’s weak and useless. She’ll never be used for her powers properly. She’ll never be treated as an equal.”
“I’ll make sure that she does.”
“Brother, I’m the god of lies. I can see straight through you. You’re not going to do anything but sit by and watch them.”
“I’ll watch out for her.”
Loki’s chest rises as he takes in a deep breath, knowing his brother won’t do anything. He contemplates his options: either go with Heimdall or stay here and face worse punishment when he sees his Father one day.
“How long will I be gone for?”
“My hope is a month or two, but most likely two or three years.”
“I can’t leave her that long.”
“Then I will fight for your freedom or escape every day.”
Loki takes a look at you hugging Bucky. The exact image in front of his is what he fear most: losing you to the soldier who looks at you the same way he does. He knows he has no choice if he wants to face a lesser punishment.
“Fine. Give me a moment to say goodbye.”
“Of course.”
Loki walks to you who lets go of Bucky and hugs him. He wraps an arm around your waist and walks with you over to the entrance of the hall where no one can hear you.
“I have to go, darling.”
“Please, don’t.”
The team watches as you open your mouth and speak to Loki, proving to them there was a situation at hand with your attachment to Loki.
“Oh no,” Tony mumbles.
“We’re in trouble,” Nat agreed.
Bucky tries to drown out the anger and instead, a wave of depression over comes him. He knows he messed up with you, but seeing how quick you moved to the god makes him sad, knowing he could have had that with you had he not gotten hurt or even gone on that mission.
“I have no choice, Y/N, but I promise whatever happens, I will come back.”
“What do you mean ‘whatever happens’?” 
“There is a good chance I’m being locked away for some time. Thor said that if that is the case, he will help me get out and return to you.”
“You promise you’ll come back?”
“There is not a soul in the nine realms that can stop me from coming to you, because you are my home and you can’t rip my heart away from you.”
Silver tongue. You knew they called him that for a reason.
“I promise, my darling.” 
“I’m scared if you don’t come back.”
“I know. I am too. I fear that I’ll never forget you and spend the rest of my days in a cell longing for your touch.”
“Please, don't’ say that.”
“I’m sorry,” he chuckles, “I take it back. I’ll see you in good time.”
Loki gives you a tight hug, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You start crying on his shoulder, leaving dark spots on his suit. Before walking to Thor, Loki lifts your chin up with his hand, connecting his lips to yours. 
You taste like strawberries and wine. Loki thinks to himself that he could get drunk on your lips all the time, always thirsting for you. You’re so soft, like floating on a cloud. He thought your voice was the closest thing to nirvana, but he was wrong. He is just the same. He tastes like whiskey and is sensual with his touch. You can feel the butterflies in your stomach flying around, fluttering their wings and bumping into the insides of you. A chill runs down your spine as the two of you hold each other. You never want to stop kissing him.
Thor coughs under his breath, distracting you and Loki, breaking your kiss. Loki turns to his brother with sadness in his eyes that every person sees. The Avengers look at one another, seeing how painful this is for him, but they don’t dare to look at you. Tears roll down your face, flushing you over. They’ve never seen anyone look so desperate for help. It breaks them, but they don’t dare go against Odin’s word.
Loki walks over to Heimdall who places a hand on his shoulder. He turns back to face you across the room.
“Goodbye, my love.”
In a flash, the two are gone, leaving you a blubbering mess in front of the heroes. Bucky takes a step forward to console you, but you fall backwards shaking your head.
“I’m sorry, Y/N, but Loki needs to take responsibility. He’s a criminal.”
“No!” You scream.
Everyone is taken back by the anger and desperation in your voice. Nat and Sam share a look, in awe of your vocal power. Bucky goes wide eyed, staring at you whose eyebrows are furrowed and mouth wide open. You’re choking on your own breath as you hyperventilate. No one dares to say anything as they urge you to break the silence, not wanting to miss a single thing you say.
“You don’t get to say shit!” You yell. “You don’t know him! You don’t get to say ‘he’s a criminal’! He’s a good man and you all are disappointing children! You’re children! Only mature people don’t try to hurt those who hurt them! They understand and listen and make them better! You’re only out to destroy! You’re not heroes fighting for vengeance! You’re villains wanting revenge! You disgust me! The way you treat him and me, so don’t say anything about Loki! People say things happen for a reason, so when I punch you in the face for ever saying anything bad about him ever again, remember I had a reason!”
You turn to walk away from the paralyzed group. They try to take in everything you said, shocked by your first words to them being rage over Loki. There’s no words they have left in them as you’ve taken all of them, except for Bucky. He stand there, heart shattering in a million pieces from watching you pour your heart out for a man who did his people wrong, for a man who is a war dictator. 
“Why do you care so much about him?” He screams at you.
You stop in your tracks, facing them with your face full of pain and sorrow.
“Because I love him.
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mrsalwayswrite · 4 years ago
Text
To Call Forth Love- Chapter 4
So I planned for this chapter and the next to originally be one but as I started writing it, the words kept flowing and oops....now its really long. So I decided to split it. This means that I’m pretty much done with the next chapter so I’ll be able to get it out in a few days! Yay!
Also, Ivar is pretty manipulative in this chapter. Someone made a comment in the last chapter that I want to acknowledge. Going forward this is kind of a theme but I just want to put that warning statement- if this is triggering for you, please read with caution. There is nothing explicit or graphic but its still manipulation. 
Words:4000
Warnings: swearing, manipulation
Tag List: @youbloodymadgenius​
Series Masterlist
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Sitting in the office at work, Kari sipped on her smoothie as she plugged in numbers for an inventory order. She had just finished teaching one of her morning classes and was now doing some paperwork for Lydia while on her "lunch break". 
 She jumped when her phone suddenly buzzed- a text alert. Surprised and curious as to who would be texting her at this time, she unlocked her phone to see the text from an unknown number. 
 Unknown: hey u busy 2nite?
 Kari: who is this?
 Unknown: u fav person
 Kari: OMG! Ed Sheeran?!
 She giggled quietly to herself, returning back to the laptop screen. Normally she ignored any calls or texts from unknown numbers, but it had been a good morning and she was feeling playful. When there was no return text, she shrugged the conversation off and returned to the order. Apparently, the unknown number did not get the reaction they were hoping for or realized they text the wrong person. Either way, she did not care. 
 A couple minutes later, her phone started to vibrate repeatedly. Looking down, she saw she was getting a call from the unknown number. She hesitated to answer, but by the third ring her curiosity got the better of her and she answered it. 
 "Hello?"
 "FUCKING ED SHEERAN? REALLY?"
 She sat there stunned. "Ivar?"
 "Of course, it's me. Who the fuck were you expecting?" He asked, angrily. 
 "How did you get my number?"
 He ignored her question, his voice suddenly sounding muffled. "Yeah, yeah, I'll be a second…. damn it. I know!"
 "Who is that?" 
 "My brother.” He scoffed, muttering something unintelligible under his breath, before speaking to her again. “I have to head back into a meeting now."
 "Oh, ok?"
 "You didn't answer my question."
 Her mind was still reeling from the fact that Ivar Lothbrok had her number and was calling her out of the blue. "What question?"
 He huffed, exasperation evident in his tone. "Are you busy tonight?"
 "Why?"
 "I want to take you out."
 "Ivar," she sighed, pressing a hand to her forehead, "I told you, I can't."
 "Yeah and I don't believe you, so…."
 "No. I'm sorry but the answer is still no."
 "Fine. I have to go." He snapped then abruptly ended the call.  
 Slowly, she pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at it. What just happened? Before she forgot, she added his number to her contacts since she had the distinct feeling this would not be the last time he contacted her. Once done, she set her phone down and dropped her head into her hands. 
 It had been two days since he drove her home and she said they could be friends. In those two days, this was the first contact they had. She had hoped he grew bored with her since she was not playing his game, that she refused to go out with him. Maybe he finally decided she was not worth his time and moved on? Which was for the best. She could never fit into his world, there was no space for her there. Nor did she want to. She was happy, content with her life. 
 It was better for her to not allow Ivar into her life. That's what she repeated to herself as she tried to focus on the inventory order. 
 *****
 "Just put the bags right there, thank you." Kari said, placing the grocery bags, one in each hand, onto the tiled floor. The kitchen in her townhouse was small, two people could barely move around in it without bumping into one another. Thankfully, she did not spend much time in the kitchen. Cooking had never been her forte. 
 "Do you need anything else? I don't mind staying to help." The dirty-blond haired man asked, setting the two bags he carried down onto the floor. He started to shuffle forward but seemed to think better of it and leaned against the half-wall separating the kitchen from the short hallway. 
 "Erik, it's fine. If anything, I owe you. You never let me pay for gas money."
 He shrugged, and tucked his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. "It's not a big deal. I needed to shop too."
 "Still, it's not fair to you." She turned around from placing the milk in the fridge to look at him. 
 "If I think of something you can do to repay me, I'll let you know. Deal?"
 "Perfect."
 "Do you still want a ride to work tomorrow?"
 She shut the door and jokingly waved a hand at him. "See! You're too nice."
 "I'd be ‘too nice’ if I also showed up with coffee for you."
 She laughed, moving some frozen fruit into the freezer. "You're too perfect to not have a girlfriend." 
 He rubbed the back of his neck, a flush growing on his cheeks and drawing out a boyish smile. "I don't know if I'd say that. I'll let you get to it. I'll meet you outside at nine?"
 "Thank you, Erik."
 "Of course." He popped his head around the wall to look into the living room. "See you, Alana!"
 "Bye, Erik!" The response came from the living room. 
 Kari continued to put her groceries away as she heard the front door click shut behind him. Somehow, she needed to figure out a way to pay him back. 
 Erik lived in the townhouse next door alone. When he learned that Kari did not own a car, he offered to give her rides whenever it worked out for both of their schedules. At first, she had been hesitant, still not having lived in the townhouse for long but eventually gave in because he always acted like such a gentleman. Every time he saw her, he made sure to greet her and ask about her day. He always held the door open for her and anybody else close by. A negative word never passed his lips, rather choosing to focus on the positive in life. A routine soon started to form and every two weeks they would meet up outside of their townhouses and go grocery shopping together. When she did not have to work early, he would occasionally give her rides to work since the bank he worked at was only a couple blocks away. That was the extent of their interactions though. She wondered about inviting him over for dinner as to thank him but she always chickened out in asking him. Perhaps that was what she needed to do after all.  
 Once all her groceries were put away, she headed into the living room, seeing her roommate and friend sitting on the couch with the TV on to the Great British Bake-off but looking down at her phone. 
 The brunette asked, dropping onto the second couch. "How was work?"
 "Good. You?" Alana looked up, her make-up flawless like usual on her delicate features. 
 "Nothing too exciting."
 "You know, if you'd waited two hours I could have taken you to the store."
 Kari nodded, fiddling with her diamond stud earring. "I know, but you're so busy with work and school. I know you like relaxing when you come home and Erik said he was free today."
 "Did he now?" Alana asked with a smug look.
 Kari tossed a throw pillow at her. "Don't start this again."
 The blonde caught the pillow, still grinning like the Cheshire cat. "You know he likes you. He's just too shy to ask you out."
 "He's a friend, it's been like seven months, I think if he was going to ask me out, he would have done it by now."
 "He. Is. Shy." Alana enunciated, as if talking to a child. She rolled her blue eyes, leaning back against the couch. "Shit, he only started to actually talk to me this summer."
 "Cause you are intimidating."
 Alana threw the pillow back at Kari. "Bitch, it's cause I radiate sexiness and he can't handle it."
 "That is most definitely it." 
 "Well the guy I hooked up with last weekend said I radiated sexiness."
 Kari wrinkled her nose, looking over at her roommate. "I don't want to hear that. It's bad enough when you bring them here."
 "You know, it wouldn't be the worst thing for you to actually go out with Erik. He's…. sweet." She quietly stated, eyes back on the TV. 
 "Yeah."
 "I'm fairly sure he'd treat you better than that fucker of ex."
 Kari picked invisible lint off her black leggings, apprehensive about where the topic was going. Her love life, and lack of it, was something Alana liked to remind her of frequently as of late. "Honestly, I'm even sure anymore he should count as an ex."
 "Well you were supposed to be exclusive, right? And then you find out he's been fucking other girls the whole time. That counts as a shitty ex."
 She winced at the reminder of her one attempt at dating. "I don't…. I don't think I'm ready."
 The blonde pointed a finger at her roommate without turning her eyes away from the TV. "Well don't wait around forever, you'll miss out."
 "Says the woman who hooks up with a different guy almost every other weekend."
 "And I'm not missing out!"
 Kari laughed. Feeling her phone vibrate, she pulled it out of her pocket and checked it to see a new text from Ivar. 
 Ivar: hell no, if we r gng 2 see the Northern Lights thn we're gng 2 Iceland or Norway.
 She smiled at the text, quickly typing in a reply. 
 Kari: fine, we'll add that to the list. Can I please put South Africa back on the list?
 She fiddled with her diamond stud earrings, looking back at their conversation throughout the day. Just looking at all the texts, she bit her lip to try and contain the smile. 
 Ivar had texted her in the late morning, asking her out again. To which she just texted back a one-word answer- "no". Apparently undeterred, he ignored her 'no', saying how he wanted to take her to this popular restaurant. Somehow the conversation spiraled into creating overly outrageous "dates" he would take her on, each one more fantastic than the last, with her encouraging and creating her own ideas. Their texting had lasted all day, and she found herself actually looking forward to his responses. Something she never would have expected, especially after how rudely he hung up on her the prior day. 
 So far her favorite "date" involved him renting out the entire Roman Colosseum in Rome and having a candlelight dinner in the middle of the arena. The most amusing one was when she suggested they go skydiving. He shut down that idea saying they would have to be strapped to instructors and the only man she should ever be strapped to was him. 
 Her phone vibrated in her hand, alerting her to his response. 
 Ivar: u r not swimming w/ sharks 
 She giggled, trying to imagine his facial expression. She actually had no desire to do half of the stuff she suggested but it was funny to get a rise out of him. 
 Kari: African safari?
 "What are you giggling at?" Alana questioned, giving her the side-eye. 
 The smile dropped from her face. "Nothing."
 "That doesn't sound like nothing."
 "Just a funny meme." She deflected, getting to her feet. There was no way she could tell Alana she had been texting Ivar all day. "I'm going to shower."
 As she headed upstairs to her room, her phone vibrated again. 
 Ivar: do u jus luv danger?
 Kari: I'm talking to you, aren't I? 
 She headed to her bathroom, turning the shower on and checking the temperature. In a spur of the moment decision, she tossed in a eucalyptus shower bomb. 
 Just before she jumped in, she looked at her phone one last time to find his response.  
 Ivar: touche, kitten, touche 😘
 *****
 The soothing soundtrack of nature played over the speakers in the yoga studio room. A few women were already in the studio with their yoga mats out, either stretching or quietly conversing as they waited. Depending on the day, the ten am morning class could be busy but typically it averaged about fifteen to twenty women.
 Kari bent over, touching her palms to the floor. Even though she would not be continuously doing the routine along with those in her class, she still liked to be limber and have her muscles warmed up. This was a beginner class, where she spent a good portion of the time either correcting people's forms or showing how to do a certain pose. A few of her coworkers complained about teaching beginner classes since when the participants walked through the door, you never really knew what level they were at. 
 Checking the clock hanging over the door, she saw she had five minutes before her class started. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, enjoying the pull of her muscles. The door to the studio room opened but Kari continued to stretch, shifting to a downward facing dog pose, holding it. She could hear some people moving around but she focused on her breathing.  
 "Mmm, I could get used to seeing this."
 The familiar voice behind her, caused Kari to try and whip around in startled surprise, only to end up crashing onto her ass. 
 Above her stood Ivar with a devilish smile. "Hello, kitten." He softly said with smolder that instantly made her flush and a tendril of warmth curl in her belly. Standing there in his jeans and red shirt with his hair pulled back in a man bun, it was unfair how striking he looked. Even the braces over his legs did nothing to deter from his attractiveness. 
 She rose quickly to her feet, wiping her hands over her leggings and peeking at the others in the room. Most were curiously watching their interaction but remained where they were. 
 "What are you doing here?" She hissed, turning her gaze back up to meet his. "How did you find me?"
 He rolled his eyes. "You were wearing a Whole Wellness Yoga Studio shirt when I drove you home last week. Plus, hearing from Gyda that you work here…. You're not that hard to find."
 That made sense, even if she disliked the logic. "Ok, fine. Why are you here though?"
 "I want to take you out tonight."
 "Oh gods." She could not believe what she was hearing. The prior day they had spent most of the day texting and sure it was fun, but her answer had not changed. When he had not text her this morning, she assumed that was the last she had heard from him. Apparently, he decided to ask her out in person instead of over the phone like the past two times. "Ivar… No."
 "Why? You keep saying you can't but never why."
 "It's just…. look, I don't want to date."
 He took a step closer, face inches above hers. His voice dropped low, an underlying current of anger in his tone. Those piercing blue eyes challenged her. "You say that but I don't think that's the real reason. So, until you tell me the truth, your 'no' means fucking nothing. Friends tell each other things, right?"
 "You know, I don't think we should be friends anymore."
 He chuckled, still standing too close for a normal conversation. "Too late. I like you."
 "I'm still not going out with you." She placed her hands on her hips, trying to appear confident, hoping desperately he did not hear the wavering in her voice. 'This was for the best, it was best for both of them' she repeated in her mind. 
 "Fine. I'll wait for you to change your mind." He winked and stepped back. To her horror, she watched as he walked over to the side of the room where she kept her water bottle and light jacket. He grabbed a nearby chair and dragged it over before dropping down with his legs in a manspread, that stupid smirk still on his face. 
 She stomped over to him, whisper-shouting at him. "What are you doing?"
 "I'm waiting."
 "What?"
 "I'm not leaving until you agree to go on a date with me."
 "You can't...no…. Ivar." She whined. 
 "I walked all the way here to see you, even though my legs are quite painful today…. you wouldn't kick a cripple out when they just need to rest, would you?" He asked, eyes widened in mock innocence. One of his hands rubbed at his knee in exaggerated fashion as if to prove the discomfort he was in. 
 She groaned. "I hate you."
 "No, you don't." He gloated, then nodded towards the clock. "It's ten o'clock, it's time to start your class, I believe."
 Without another word, she moved to the front of the room. She refused to play this game. Her answer was 'no' and no matter what he said or did, her answer would not change. The whole time she could feel his rakish gaze on her, reminding her how tight her leggings and purple tank top were. She tried to focus on her class, smiling at the women she recognized and the ones that she assumed was new. "Let's begin. Everyone start in mountain pose. Take deep breaths, let's center ourselves."
 "Kari!" 
 She looked over at the older woman, Ingrid, who called out. The woman was easily one of Kari's favorites, doting upon those who worked at the yoga studio, and becoming the unofficial grandmother of them. Ingrid had been coming to the yoga studio for years but was forced to only take beginner level classes after a bad fall the prior year. She loudly complained about her doctor being an idiot and how she felt fine, but Lydia refused to let her attend any other class than beginner classes until otherwise said by her doctor. 
 "Yes?"
 Ingrid's hazel eyes twinkled with mischief from the front row where she stood. "You planning on introducing that handsome young man you've got over there?"
 "No, we are going to ignore his presence. He's going to be leaving soon." Kari flatly stated with a polite smile.
 "Hi! I'm Ivar!" He announced with a charming smile, his bright blue eyes alluring under the dim lights. Giving a little wave with his fingers, he continued, "I hope my presence doesn't bother all you lovely women, I just came to see my girlfriend and ask her on a date tonight."
 A chorus of "awwwws" filled the room. 
 Kari wanted nothing more than to bang her head against a wall. Or preferably, Ivar's head. She could not believe the audacity of him.
 "Where are you taking her?" One of the newer women asked in a flirty tone, pulling her shoulders back to emphasize her ample chest. 
 Ivar barely glanced at her, keeping his focus on Kari. "It's a surprise. I wanted to do something special."
 "Young man, if I were a few years younger, I would fight Kari here so you could take me on a date." Ingrid said with a laugh. 
 "I would be honored to take a lovely woman like you on a date." He sent a playful wink to Ingrid. 
 "Alright, let's get back to yoga." Kari tried to redirect the attention. Annoyed and upset did not even begin to describe how she felt. 
 "Well it was lovely to meet you, young man. Kari should have told us her boyfriend was so handsome. We might have convinced her to bring you in sooner for some eye candy." Ingrid teased. 
 "He's not my boyfriend." Kari retorted, shooting a glare at the smug raven-haired man. 
 "And that is why I'm trying to take her on a date." He placed a hand dramatically over his heart, eyes staring at her beseechingly. "Just for her to give me a chance."
 "Get her some tulips. Those are her favorite flowers." Karina called out from the back of the room. 
 "Can't go wrong with chocolate!"
 "Oh! Read her a sonnet and dance under the stars together!"
 "This is so romantic…. like something out of a movie." Someone loudly whispered, making a few others laugh. 
 Kari dropped her chin to her chest. Tears welled in her eyes. She knew those in the class meant well, that they were really just trying to help. But they were helping the wrong person. Why would Ivar not leave her alone? She told him 'no' multiple times, that should have been enough. Her tolerance for his behavior was waning rapidly and honesty she was not sure if she would fight back…. or surrender. 
 The chair scratched faintly on the floor followed by his footsteps landing audibly as he crossed the room to reach her. She refused to lift her head, her eyes squeezed shut. Not just to pretend she could not feel him standing so close to her, but to try and hide the single tear that rolled down her cheek. 
 "Kari." He whispered, the sound a caress of her name. 
 Still she did not move. 
 Gently, he tipped her chin up, forcing her to look at him. His thumb wiped away the evidence of her tear. It was those captivating eyes, the ones that could both scorch everything in view but also send flames of desire dancing across her skin, that met hers. To her surprise, there was a softness in his gaze, a vulnerability, that was reminiscent of the few times they were alone. As if with just her, for a brief moment, he let his guard down and she could glimpse the real Ivar. 
 "Go out with me." He murmured faintly, stroking her cheek with his thumb. Standing in front of her, his broad back to the class gave them a semblance of privacy. "Please."
 "Why can't you let this go?" She begged quietly, staring up at him. 
 "I told you, I'm persistent." He smiled, almost shyly. 
 In his words, it felt like there was such a depth to them she was unaware of. That he was confessing something to her in which she did not have the key to fully understand. 
 She sighed softly, closing her eyes for a moment before looking at him again. "Fine. I'll go…. But it's only as friends, ok? This isn't…. Romantic. Just…. Just friends."
 "Sure, just friends." He leaned forward and pressed a quick, chaste kiss to her cheek. "I'll pick you up at seven."
 She nodded, feeling torn apart inside. 
 After a lingering look that breathed a flame into her belly, he spun on his heel to face the women. "She said yes!"
 A few cheers and clapping reverberated in the small yoga studio room. 
 "I graciously thank you all for your sound advice and encouragement with helping me to woo the beautiful Kari. Wish me luck as I plan to thoroughly spoil her tonight." Ivar dramatically bowed, shooting a quick wink at Kari as she watched him. 
 She desperately tried to fight the small smile off her lips. No one could say that Ivar was not charming or charismatic when it suited him. 
 As he finally made his way to the door, he turned around just before pushing it open. "Wear something nice." He said, pointing a finger at Kari and then walked out like a dream where one cannot decide if it was a nightmare or not. 
 The brunette ran a hand down her face before shoving aside her emotions and plastering a customer smile on. "I'm so sorry about all of this. Let's get back to it. I promise it won't happen again, ladies."
 "Kari, dear, you have fun with that boy tonight." Ingrid spoke up, eyes darting to the now closed door and back to the yoga instructor. "And if you don't want him, let me know. I'd still jump on him in a heartbeat. That boy has the prettiest eyes, I swear."
 A few sounds of agreement echoed in the room. 
 Kari could not stop her smile from turning genuine at Ingrid. No matter the situation, the feisty, older woman always knew how to make her laugh. "I promise I'll let you know. Now, back to mountain pose please."
 Silently, she hoped tonight was not a mistake.
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aspiringharlot · 4 years ago
Text
Redolence
You’ve got a pretty lame quirk, but it manages to catch someone’s attention.
Word Count: 5.8k
Okay, second attempt at this whole y/n fanfic idea…I also tried formatting the this beginning bit,  hope you’re still bearing with me!
Trigger warnings: Stalking behavior, noncon/ noncon turned to consent, public sex, name calling (let me know if I forgot something)
Tagged for: @palbabor-writes, @tod0oki, @kugutsuu
p.s. @cupcake-rogue, I know that this isn’t explicitly yandere/incel focused but I figured I’d direct your attention anyways!
For Palbabor, a sprinkle of Hawks!
 Was Hawks the kind of guy to play it fast and loose? No, not even close. Sure, he acted out the charismatic, playboy persona crafted by his PR team, but a careless man he was not. Hawks had self-control, and a sense of self discipline, he’d never just make brash decisions capable of jeopardizing his standing as a hero.
And yet he’d entangled himself in this situation.
It all started when he caught a whiff of you.
Being a Hawk-man had many upsides. Hawks had phenomenal vision, unmatched speed and reflexes, and even telepathic control over his wings, though, that last ability may not be as Hawk related as the others. Still, despite the multitude of benefits, Hawks, like many birds, had a weak olfactory sense.
He’d lived his whole life like that, never seeing the downside to this facet of his life. How could he? Can’t miss what you never had, right?
And then, on a sweltering day approximately two months ago, he smelt a distinct scent.
He had no reference to judge the scent. How could he explain it? It was… good?  
That was your quirk. You’d always lamented the lameness of your quirk, an emitter type known as “Redolence”. You could inspire interest and appreciation in others through your pheromones, in most cases only minutely affecting another’s perception of you. This had helped you out a few times. Before job interviews or dates, you’d typically avoid wearing perfume or using scented soaps, making you more likely to receive a call back, but that was really all it could do.
 You’d never put much thought towards how those with a weak sense of smell would perceive it. Surely, they’d be unable to smell your pheromones and would go on with their day, right?
Wrong.
The scent of your pheromones penetrated all noses, regardless of their capabilities.
It had been months since that fateful patrol in which Hawks had smelt a scrunchie you’d lost on the sidewalk. The smell at first caught him off guard. It wasn’t often that he smelt something, let alone all the way up in the air and that made him curious. He dove lower to the ground to see what that smell could possibly be. Perched at the top of a building he scanned the street side with his trained eyes.
He didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. An average crowd of people milling on with their day, seemingly oblivious to the mouthwatering aroma encompassing the neighborhood.
Really, Hawks should’ve just went back to his patrol. Nothing terribly strange was happening, he just smelt something.
‘Get back to work, Hawks.’ He thought to himself. ‘wasting time now means you’ll get your route done later and that means less personal time when it’s finally over with.’
The hero stood, readying himself to soar back in the air.
Instead he dove down.
The action wasn’t especially discreet, and several citizens flocked to Hawks, asking for pictures or autographs. He dealt with them as he would any other fan, patiently but not allowing himself to be pushed around. Eventually, as they were leaving him to himself, the blond reached out and asked a pair of friends if they’d smelt the pleasant aroma floating through the area.
They looked to each other confused before the shorter of the pair gained a spark of recognition in her eyes.
“Oh, do you mean that super sweet smell? It was a little stronger back the way we came but it wasn’t all that unusual.”
“Hm.” Hawks grunted gruffly, before seeing the taken aback faces of the pair. Misstep, that grunt was too aggressive, mask it with a more carefree response.
“Oh uh, sorry girls, I suspect there’s an illegal quirk user right in the area.” He pushed out a hardy, fake chuckle. “Not that’s anything a pair of beautiful young girls like yourself needs to worry about.”
They began to blush and stammer, allowing Hawks the perfect opportunity to exit the conversation and head off towards the area the short girl referenced. What an easy distraction a simple complement could make.
As he moved on, he smelled that scent becoming stronger and more powerful. His heart was beating, and butterflies began to form in his stomach. What was this smell? And why was he so desperate to find the source of it?
Eventually the scent began to fade slightly. Shit, he must’ve walked right past it. A game of hot and cold began, Hawks walking in circles like an idiot to track down the source of the smell. And then he found it.
A scrunchie, pink and velvety with prominent ruffles.
That was all, just a hair tie. Mystery solved, pack it up, time to move on.
Hawks was pathetic, feeling like a freak, as in one fluid motion he bent at the waist to collect the scrunchie. He held it to close to his face, mouthwatering as something stirred inside him. The scent emitting from the hair-tie was what he’d always thought cherry pie would smell like. Was this sugar? If it was, he had no idea how bakers managed their day to day lives, the scent alone making him feel increasingly excited.
Was he really going to do this? Snatch a hair tie from the sidewalk grate and keep it like a desperate weirdo?
The scrunchie was tucked into one of the many pockets lining the inside of Hawks’ coat.
From that day on, huffing that hair tie became a part of Hawks’ routine. After a long day he’d come home to shower and tend to his wings before reveling in the scent. It came to a point where he’d please himself, in one hand holding the scrunchie to his face as the other stroked his cock. He didn’t know how, but he had fallen in love with a scent.
Tragically, overtime, the smell faded like autumn leaves losing their crunch. He was going to have to stop relying on the scrunchie.
No, he was addicted to this smell, he couldn’t just let it fade out from his life. He thought back to the day he found it. It was left behind in public, maybe there were cameras which had captured the owner of this hair tie. Cameras that captured you.
Being a top pro hero gave Hawks much leeway- contacting the owners of nearby businesses and asking for copies of their security footage inspired no suspicion.  Within a day he had several angles of perspective on the drop sight. He stuck an intern at his agency with the responsibility of reviewing the footage to detect who had dropped the footage.
Five hours later, Hawks saw you for the first time.
His heart fluttered. He saw a beautiful, no- a gorgeous girl resign herself to the side of the path as she dug through a small bag, digging for something.  In frustration she pulls the bag open wider and ruffles more intensely until finally she pulls out a phone. In the roughness, the scrunchie he had held so close for two months now, slipped out of her purse. She hadn’t noticed, instead checking her phone only to noticeably sigh in relief as a car approached her. She entered the car and it drove away.
Finally, Hawks could put a face to a smell. Now he just had to find you.
That poor intern began to reevaluate his position as the agency when Hawks told him to track you down- Hawks wanted an entire file, complete with a name, date of birth, address, summative history. The whole works.
It took several days, but the intern got all the information and organized it in a neat manilla folder, giving it to Hawks as soon as it was completed.
When Hawks received the folder, he could hardly contain his excitement. This was it, using this file he could track down the smell and subsequently the person that he’d been obsessing over for the past two months. After his intern left, he raced to his room, digging the scrunchie from the plastic baggie it was kept in to sniff at it as he read your file. He tore it open right after pulling his pants down to his ankles. He immediately began palming at his erection, softly exhaling as he began to read over your file.
--------
 (Photograph of you)
(clipped behind, are nudes that were obtained from your phone)
-------
Hawks stopped himself immediately to look slack jawed at the nude photographs of you, squeezing himself around the base of his cock to remind him of restraint. He laid the photo out next to the file to reference as he massaged his cock.
---------
Name: (y/n) (l/n)
Date of Birth: (y/D.O.B.)
Gender: Female
Sex: Female
Relationship Status: Single, no romantic partners or interests.
Sexuality: Unclear
Quirk: Redolence (emitter) - produces mood altering hormones capable of influencing perceptions of others. Low calculated threat as a combatant. Possible use in support position.
­­­­­­­------------------
‘Well,’ thought Hawks. ‘That certainly explains how I’ve gotten into this situation.’ He pumped his cock slowly, savoring the information he was learning.
------------------
Legal status: Immigrated Citizen – all paperwork has been processed and completed as of 12/14/20XX
Criminal History: Nonexistent
Address: (Nearby address)
-----------------
‘She’s been that close this whole time?’  Hawks couldn’t help but picture you, walking down his street, your quirk turning heads as people wondered why they wanted you so badly. The inadequacy those strangers would feel when they saw Hawks swoop down to lift you off the street and into the air. Hawks felt even more turned on.
-----------------
 Summary: (L/n) works at (place of employment) as (job position). Current income is ($$) per year. Has scarcely active social media profile. Not a public figure. Little contact with friends and family (out of country, no files available to draw information from). No roommates. No house pets. I.P. tracking shows recent queries centered around, heat death of the universe, 20th century American criminal Ed Gein, plane tickets to (your state), and pornographic material containing Consenting Non-Consent (CNC), public sex, indecent exposure, chikan and degradation.
-----------------
‘Oh boy,’ Hawks felt his cock twitch. He couldn’t believe that you’d be such a naughty little slut. He took a deep inhalation, melting at the fading scent. Right now, all he had was this scrunchie, but soon he’d have you. The reassurance made him being to pump his cock faster, the member throbbing in his calloused hands.
-----------------
Medical history shows she is prone to cavities, complications have arisen from improper healing of a torn muscle. Currently attending physical therapy to aid recovery. P.T. backed by health insurance.
Schedule:
Sunday- Grocery shops at approximately 11:20. Returns home to clean and watch television. No notable pattern excluding these events.
Monday- Attends work from 8:00 to 17:00. Purchases takeout on way home. No notable pattern excluding these events.
Tuesday- Attends work from 8:00 to 17:00. Returns home. Exits at 20:00, goes to building laundry office. No notable pattern excluding these events.
Wednesday- Attends physical therapy from 10:00 to 11:00. Attends work from 12:00 to 20:00. No notable pattern excluding these events.
Thursday- Attends work from 8:00 to 17:00. Returns home. No notable pattern excluding these events.
Friday- Goes to (specific area) public park at approximately 12:00. Remains for approximately two hours. Returns home and orders take-out. No notable pattern excluding these events.
Saturday- No notable pattern detected.
----------------
Hawks was more than pleased with the information that had been gathered on you. And the schedule, that gave him more than enough time to plan out your first meeting. He could see it now, this Friday he’ll swoop through the park and casually run into you.
“Oh, hey there pretty lady, its funny running into you here, I think I saw you a few months ago…” You would start blushing and stammering right away, you’d feel so honored that the Pro Hero Hawks had remembered you, even if you hadn’t technically met.
From there he’d pull out the scrunchie that you lost and play it off like he’d seen you drop it recently. He’d say something like, “Anyway- I saw you drop this a few minutes ago and I thought I’d catch up and return it to you.” He’d hold it out to you and get a little closer than would be strictly necessary. You’d look into his eyes and Hawks could tell you how beautiful you are. He’d offer you out to coffee, he knows you have nothing planned afterwards so there’s no way you’ll say no.
By the time you finished your coffee you’d be in love with Hawks, equally infatuated with him as he was you. You’d shyly ask if he was busy and if maybe he wouldn’t mind walking you home… As soon as you got there, you’d offer yourself to him, stripping off your clothes to reveal your sensual breasts. He’d eagerly be led to the bedroom and immediately work himself down to your core, hoping for a chance to smell your sex. He’d lap at your folds, savoring the taste as he’d dip is tongue past the ring of muscle protecting your hole.
You’d mewl beneath him or pant his name and just beg him to fuck you with his cock. The sounds you’d make underneath him, downright sinful. You’d cum on his cock and flood the room with the smell of your pheromones, making him cum right inside you before he’d collapse on top of you to breath in your scent at the source.
In reality, Hawks was pumping his cock fast, occasionally twisting is hand to change up the rhythm, getting closer and closer as he dropped the scrunchie to instead hold the nude photograph. As he imagined the way you’d beg for his cock he came, hard, shooting white ribbons of cum right onto the picture of you.
He smiled.
Yes, Hawks had this whole thing planned perfectly. This encounter was going to end spectacularly.
When Friday came, Hawks came to the park an hour early, keeping an eye out for you just incase you’d decided to come early. The pro hero was circling the circumference of the park, his eyes darting from person to person until finally he saw you. Or, more accurately, smelled you.
You were entering the park from the west end, in your arms a yoga mat and a large opaque water bottle. On your body was a pants tightening outfit- black high-rise spandex cupping your legs and ass with a white cropped t-shirt straining against your tits. The little shirt was tied into a little knot in the front, the shin white fabric doing nothing to hide your black sports bra, enticing glances from men and women alike. Your hair was another matter of interest for Hawks, the soft strands clipped out of your eyes, only allowing the barest element to frame your face.  Most importantly, you smelled great, Hawks could tell from all the way up in the air. The smell was not the same as the smell of your scrunchie- that one had been more, flirty somehow. Today all that Hawks could smell was that underlying scent that screamed ‘you’. Hawks didn’t mind though, he’d work your quirk’s full potential out of you when the time came.
The way he was getting excited, Hawks didn’t think he could wait any longer, he had to go down and make contact.
He managed to hold off another 7 minutes, allowing you to position yourself in a secluded area of the park, ideal for yoga and meditation. At this point he’d grounded himself to be more discreet and was casually approaching you, not that you noticed with your back to him and eyes closed.
For a tense moment, Hawks stood silently in front of you, breathing quiet. His heart pounded, ba-dum, ba-dum.
“Hey there.” You jumped in surprise, eyes shooting open as you gasped out an awkward sort of “guUh!” noise.
“Whoops!” Hawks chuckled merrily. “Didn’t mean to spook ya there.” When you looked at him, it took you a moment to process that there was a pro-hero in front of you. As you looked up at him, you took notice of his stance. He was calm, standing languidly and unbothered. He must have just felt like acknowledging you and now that he had, he’d probably move on with his day.
“Hey, don’t I know you from somewhere?” you blanched. Did he know you?
“ah, no, uh… you must be thinking of someone else.”
“No, No, I wouldn’t forget a pretty face like yours.” He winked confidently. ‘What?’ you thought.
“What?” you said.
“Where was it… Oh!” He snapped, pointing at you. “On the sidewalk outside (business), about two month’s back, yeah, that’s it! (y/n)! That’s your name!”
You furrowed your brow trying to remember what the hell he was talking about. Sure, you’d gone through that area several times in the past three months, you had to in order to get to your physical therapy appointment, but you couldn’t recall seeing Hawks there. You’d never seen the guy in person to begin with!
“Uh, yeah maybe…” Hawks smirked at you.
“Oh, it’s fine if you don’t remember,” his face switched from playful to informative. “there was that villain with the memory erasing quirk, he probably hit you.” You supposed that made sense. Perhaps you did have a conversation with Hawks at some point, that’d explain why he knew your name.
“So-ahem,” you cleared your throat. “what’d we talk about?”
“Well, I saw you drop a few dollars and a hair tie from your purse and decided to do the heroic thing and return them to you” Hawks became carefree again. “We were chatting, and this little stand offered me some chicken kebabs- I asked if you could have some too and we just chatted until that villain came through. If I remember correctly, we were talking about exchanging numbers.”
You widened your eyes. Not only had you been approached by Hawks in the past, but you’d been about to get his number? You weren’t even a huge fan of hero’s, how had that happened?
“Wow, uh, I don’t know what to say.” You giggled.
“You know, I’m free at the moment, mind if I sit and enjoy the park with you?” Without waiting on a response Hawks plopped himself down near you, his great, red wings flexing for a moment before relaxing.
“Oh, uhm, sure…” Now you weren’t sure what to do. You were clearly here to do yoga, but would it be rude to keep doing it while someone was with you?
As if he read your mind, Hawks opened his mouth again, saying, “Don’t mind me, you can go on with your yoga.”
Now it’d be rude if you didn’t continue. You moved into a high lunge pose, stretching your thigh muscles before groaning just a little. Your sore muscle still experiencing some pain.
“Oh, was that the leg you were going to physical therapy for?” he asked innocently. You looked over to see him sprawled on the grass watching you.
“Yeah… I told you I was going to physical therapy?” Something about the way he said that ground your gears. Come to think of it, you only went through that way as you where heading to your appointment. Why would you stop and chat with Hawks beforehand and risk being late?
And, who would be serving chicken kebabs at 9:30 in the morning?
Something was off.
“Oh yeah!” Hawks brought you from your thoughts. “You were talking about how you couldn’t hang out long, you had your appointment to get to. Heck, you left in such a hurry I forgot to hand that hair tie back to you… hmmm… I wonder if…” Hawks began shrugging his coat off before rummaging through the pockets.
So, it seemed possible that you may of ran into Hawks at some point, but he must have been lying about the kebab thing… or maybe he was exaggerating to justify his interest.
“I knew it!” He pulled a pink scrunchie from one of his pockets and sure enough you did recognize it. It certainly was yours.
“Your scrunchie, m’lady.” He scooted closer to you and offered it back.
“Thanks…” you accepted it, wrapping the tie around your wrist twice. You noticed that some of the material seemed worn and stretched, like it had been handled a lot. “I’m surprised you kept it this long.”
“Me too,” Hawks laughed. “To be honest, I forgot all about it till just now.” His face was lit with a cheery smile. He held the smiled uncomfortably long and you weren’t so sure he was telling the truth.
Similarly, you were holding your yoga position too long. When you went to shift your position you grunted, your butt hitting the ground as you were destabilized.
You let out a high pitched, “Shit…” as you felt pain envelope your thigh.
“Oh, fuck, are you okay?” Hawks asked, sitting up and moving even closer to you. It was kind of weird how he kept scooting closer. Brief conversation or not, you were still strangers.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” you assured. “This happens sometimes, I just have to rub the area a bit, it’s just a pain doing it myself-“
“I could do it.” Hawks eyes kept moving from your inner thigh to your face and back again.
“heh, uh, no thanks…” you tried to laugh it off.
“No really, let me at it. You’ll feel much better.”
“Uh, thanks for the offer but, it’s not that bad.”
Okay, that was weird too. That was really weird. People don’t just offer to… do that, nor do they insist, and he seemed completely serious.
You were starting to feel not so safe around Hawks. Several things weren’t adding up. A villain with a quirk that could alter a person’s memory… When would you even be hit with that quirk? You did make it to your appointment- Hawks said so himself, so at what point would you get hit with a quirk like that?
The two of you sat it tense silence, not that Hawks acknowledged it. At the moment, he was just happy to be close to your scent. It would’ve been ideal if you’d let him in between your legs to massage your sore muscle but, could he really complain right now? No, even if this was awkward, he could see this working out for him.
“So, Hawks uh, how did I get hit with a memory loss quirk?” you asked.
“I don’t know that one, I just figured you had since you didn’t remember me and there was a villain with that quirk in the area, you must have been hit.” He seemed nonchalant and by all means, trustworthy; he was a hero for crying out loud!
But you couldn’t shake the gut feeling that something was wrong. Hawks would look at you, smiling charismatically, but you couldn’t help but feel like a chicken trapped in a fox’s den.
You’d really rather be going.
“Well, um…” you awkwardly start. “I think I’m going to head out…”
Hawks tilted his head as he looked at you. “What? Are you kidding? You’ve only been here for 20 minutes…Oh, don’t tell me that your one of those people who only does yoga in the park to say that they did yoga in the park.” His inflection. Were you imagining the bite you heard in his tone?
“O- oh, no, it’s just ah… I’m not feeling well…” You started to gather your stuff together, rolling up your mat before starting to stand. Before you fully straightened yourself out you started to sink back down, your leg muscle throbbing. You yelped and Hawks caught you, lowering you back down.
“’Not that bad’, huh?” Hawks chucked and he started to lightly push you back. You resisted, anxiously blabbering, “No, Hawks, I’ll be fine- I think I’ll feel better once I’m back home.”
You couldn’t stop him from pinning you down. Hawks straddled your good leg, holding the knee of your bad so you couldn’t close your legs. Humiliatingly, a single feather flew to rest on your forehead, subtly preventing you from lifting your upper body.
With his free hand, Hawks tenderly explored your inner thigh first only rubbing you through your spandex with the pads of his fingertips.
Alarms were ringing in your head, red alert, red alert, stranger pinning you down to creep on your thighs
“Hawks please-“ you tried to start.
“If you’d just let me finish this, you’d be out before you even realize I touched you.”
You tried being quiet, maybe submission would aid you.
Hawks got rougher with his caresses, making you whimper underneath him. Frustratingly, the position he’d pinned you in was… kind of erotic. There was this handsome man, holding you down, forcing your legs open and subsequently exposing your core. Your brain was recognizing the pattern, remembering all the porn you watched, the erotica you read. Your pussy started getting wet.  You hoped to God that your quirk wouldn’t activate- it’d only make Hawks more aggressive.
You didn’t realize the half of it.
Because Hawks could smell your pheromones, inviting him to continue, making his head feel dizzy with excitement. His mouth watered and he began to lower closer and closer to your legs. Closer to your pussy.
“Oh (y/n),” he crooned. “Your leggings are getting in the way, I hope you don’t mind if I just-“ a feather detached itself from his wing, sharpening and dragging across your pantleg. A slit was torn in the fabric, exposing your leg to him.
“Hawks- please stop!”
He didn’t stop. Instead you felt his hands wander to the slit to physically rip a bigger hole, making the leggings a mere scrap of spandex. The action revealed your clothed cunt and the increased intensity of your pheromones drove Hawks wild, making him as feral as an opossum. He gave up the pretense of massaging your sore muscles and cupped your pussy with his palm, feeling your heat and wetness through your panties.
For a moment he just held it there before taking the hand to his nose and inhaling deeply.
And then you understood.
The scrunchie wrapped around your wrist, you last wore the thing on a hookup. Your pheromones must have gotten into the fibers of the fabric. If you lost it… and Hawks found it…No wonder Hawks had held on to it for so long… the fucker developed an obsession with the scent of your pheromones.
And then, he sees you, in public- of course he’d try to initiate something with you… Shit.
You’re taken back to the reality of your situation when you feel the scrape of a feather against your shirt. That- That fucker was cutting open your shirt! How the fuck were you going to get home in a bra and panties… soaked panties at that.
Rip Rip
Okay, scratch that, now all your clothes were shredded and unwearable.
Hawks finally changed positions, swinging around to hold you in a 69 position. The action kept you pinned down even when you jumped in surprise at the sensation of Hawks dragging his tongue over your pussy lips. He didn’t hesitate to dive in, eating your pussy like a man starved of nutrients for 12 to 13 days.
You hated to admit it… but it felt fantastic. The feeling of his stubble dragging against your skin while he alternated between licking and sucking your clit was making your pussy gush. The taboo of it all as well. Fuck, this shit was all your kinks rolled into one.
You wanted to hate what was happening. Hawks, he was overpowering you- making you feel small and weak. This was wrong…
Fuck it, you were horny.
To Hawks’ surprise you started palming at his erection, trying to work the zipper down to free his cock. Despite his surprise, he was thankful. Hawks Junior was starting to feel like a caged bird, trapped in his pants the way they were.
He was doubly as thankful when he felt your small, soft hand start working his cock, pumping it, letting the tip rub against the skin of your breast. Hawks shakily exhaled, taking a moment’s break from eating you out to focus of the pleasurable sensations overtaking his cock.
“Hawks~” you whined. “You’re wearing too many clothes…”
“Huh?” he said, dumbfounded for a moment.
“Take your clothes off.” He looked down at himself, raising his eyebrows when he compared his state of dress to yours.
“Oh, yeah, right!” He was quick to strip down, undoing his belt and allowing his pants to fall to the ground. His goggles, coat and shirt followed suit and you took in the sight before you.
In a moment of confidence, Hawks fully extended his wings and allowed you to look upon his toned body.  His muscles were well defined and displayed the power housed within his skin.
It made you want to blow him.
You got on your knees before him, nuzzling his cock before taking it into your mouth- not an ounce of hesitation left in you anymore.
“Oh, so is this it real (y/n)? Not some nervous, bashful girl? She’s actually a worthless slut?” he cupped your face in his left hand, pushing your head down further onto his cock. Unprepared, you gagged- pulling yourself off his cock to cough and wheeze. He wasn’t thrilled at that, he wanted to feel your throat convulse around his cock, you weren’t allowed to just pull off.
Hawks grabbed you by the hair, yanking you so you toppled to your hands and knees before his feet.  
“Oh come on, you can be a better slut than that!” You looked up to him, lust making your eyes dilated. Eagerly you repositioned yourself onto your knees, again not hesitating to slurp on his cock. He pushed your head down again like last time, triggering your gag reflex but you held down, forcing yourself to relax overtime, swallowing around his cock on occasion.
“See,” he cooed condescendingly, “there’s a good slut.” Wetness dribbled down your thigh. You pulled off his cock with an audible pop and said three words that made Hawks want to fuck you till you went blind.
“Please fuck me.” The look of it all was so erotic. You, naked on your knees, face red and makeup running, lips, puffy and red from sucking cock, begging to be stuffed with cock.
Hawks grabbed you by the hair again, dragging you to a gnarled tree. “oh, you want to be fucked? Fucked right in your needy hole?” you nodded eagerly. “Good slut, now go on, position yourself for me.”
You braced yourself against the tree, arching your back and planting your feet. You could feel the rough bark against the soft skin of your pillowy tits. It hurt but you didn’t care. You were too caught up in the eroticism of what you were doing.
When you felt Hawks tease his cock against your cunt, you couldn’t suppress your squeal of excitement or stop yourself from eagerly spearing yourself onto his cock. You shivered at the sound of Hawks groaning as he entered your tight, slick, heat.
“Fuuuuuck,” He moaned out as he adjusted to your tightness. It wasn’t long before he was bucking into your, searching for the spot inside you that would make your legs shake.
Three or four thrusts in you squeaked- eyes fluttering shut.
“Oh there? Is that where the little slut likes feeling my cock?” you nodded eagerly but that wasn’t enough for Hawks. “No, I want to hear you say it. Say it!”
“Yes! Fuck, that’s where I like feeling your cock!” Hawks pulled out completely.
“That’s where who likes feeling my cock?” your eyes widened with recognition.
“That’s where the little slut likes feeling your cock!”
“Oh, Good Girl!”
He thrust back in, aiming directly for that patch of skin inside your tight walls that made you see stars. Hawks’ own cock was feeling fantastic, the warm heat making him go a little crazy, groaning louder and louder.  He kept thrusting in, harder and harder, making your brain rattle around inside your skull. He reached around to grind his hand against your clit, adding to the cacophony of pleasure you felt.
You were getting really close and Hawks’ wasn’t far behind you. With each thrust he could feel his muscles tense up in preparation to cum, the only thing keeping him from erupting inside you being his own willpower.
Finally, as the pleasure built inside of you, your muscles firmly clenched around Hawks’ thick cock, milking it around your own orgasm. The pro hero’s hips slowed their pace, fucking you through both of your orgasms until finally they stuttered to a halt, stuffing you to the brim with his cream.
He remained like that for a moment, cock feeling too sensitive to pull out but finally, he eased his cock out of your hole, removing the dam which had kept all of Hawks’ cum inside you. He watched in satisfaction as his cum leaked out of your used hole, completely transfixed until he heard the snapping of a branch.
He whipped around, eyes locking onto a teenaged boy holding his phone up from the bushes. The kid was tiny, with the strangest hairstyle Hawks had ever seen. Purple balls that didn’t even resemble hair. All and all an ugly kid. Even worse was to see that while one hand was occupied holding his phone, the other was held suspiciously low.
Luckily, at sight alone, the kid made a man dash to avoid a scolding. Unluckily, that kid for sure had a first of its kind, hero sex tape.
Hawks looked back at you, now slid to the ground, breathing heavily. Your naked form was a work of art, and his satisfaction with the sequence of events left him with a clear head. He looked around the clearing the two of you had occupied.
Oh, right. He’d completely destroyed all of your clothes… that was tricky.
“Hey, sorry for ruining all your clothes.” He didn’t seem too sorry.
“Its, whatever… I’ll just have to figure out a way home.”
“Well, I could fly you home… no one to enforce public decency when you��re in the sky.” You were not thrilled at the prospect of flying through the air naked. You looked down at your nude body. Unfortunately, you had no choice.
“I don’t really have any other options…” you helped clean up the clearing, and when all was set and done, allowed yourself to be carried bridal style by Hawks.
He leapt into the air, soaring seemingly higher than a plane. The cold made your nipples rock hard.
“oh by the way, (y/n)?” you looked at him.
“When we get to my apartment I’m gonna need you to rub your scent on my bed.”
 Sometimes, you hated your quirk.
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spencers-renaissance · 3 years ago
Text
Rain is a Chance to be Touched Ch.15
if we cannot find the light, we will always make our own
Chapter Fourteen
This is the fifteenth chapter in my ongoing hotchreid fic! Please click here for the fic summary, full tags, trigger warnings, more information etc.
Last Chapter: Derek & Emily called Spencer for a consult, and with him off his antidepressants, things very quickly fell apart.
In This Chapter: Hotch & Penelope pick up the pieces.
tw: depression-related exhaustion, disordered thinking, reference to last chapter's breakdown, discussion of medication
Word Count: 4K
RCT Masterlist // Main Masterlist // Read on AO3
(Quick Note: A couple of chapters ago I referred to Spencer's psychiatrist by she/her pronouns, but I forgot that I assigned that character he/him pronouns wayyy back, so I've decided to go with that one. I just wanted to address that in case anyone else caught it like I did! I apologise for the mistake & any confusion it might have caused.)
AARON
"Find my hand in the darkness and if we cannot find the light, we will always make our own." — Tyler Knott Gregson
Aaron doesn’t fall asleep until well into the small hours of the morning, finally lulled into a cold dreamless sleep once he’s cried himself out. He keeps as quiet as he can, but he knows he won’t wake Spencer up anyway: he’s completely exhausted, and he’s out cold. It’s a small consolation, but he tries to take a small bit of comfort in knowing that his boyfriend is at least getting the rest he needs.
He wakes up only a couple of hours after he falls asleep, and despite feeling completely exhausted, he sets about the things he needs to do. The first thing he does is call Strauss to request a family day — thankfully, the bureau’s been a lot more understanding of his situation since Haley died — before texting Derek and telling him that he needs to take charge of the team if they get sent on a case. Then he calls Jess and asks if she can collect Jack from his sleepover at lunchtime and have him until the evening.
With the technicalities sorted out, he makes a phone call to Spencer's psychiatrist. At this point, if he has to drag him kicking and screaming, if Spencer never talks to him again, if it calls an irreparable rift in their relationship, it won’t get in the way of him getting Spencer the help he needs. After an emergency appointment for 11am is booked, he collapses onto the sofa and calls Penelope.
“Hotch? It’s not even 7am, is everything alright?”
Just hearing her voice, hearing someone ask if he’s okay, is enough to push him over the edge. “No,” he admits into the phone, not even trying to disguise the emotion in his voice.
“I’m on my way,” she says immediately, and he can hear a flurry of activity start up on the other end of the line. “What’s happened, Hotch?”
He breathes out shakily, running a hand down his face. The early morning sun, the bustling city below him, the bright apartment all seems so contrary to the current situation. “Spencer hit a breaking point last night,” he says shakily, unsure exactly how to word it. “Derek and Emily called him to consult on a case, and they were as brisk and focused as we all are when we’re working, but he’s out of practice; he’s not used to that way of doing things anymore. It triggered him and sent him into what I’m gonna guess was a panic attack? But honestly, Penelope… it looked like a breakdown.”
“Oh God,” she says quietly, and the sound of her exiting her apartment reassures Aaron a little.
“I had no idea how to handle it,” he says, dissolving into tears. “He locked himself in the bathroom and was literally tearing his hair out… there were clumps of hair all over the floor. He was screaming at me to leave, telling me he wasn’t good enough that he forgot his place? I had no idea what he was saying—”
Penelope interrupts him. “Oh no.”
“What?”
“Well, when I first found out about his depression, Spencer told me something about how he didn’t feel like he was good for anything except his brain and IQ, you know? He said that he wasn’t cut out for friendships or relationships and I’m pretty sure he called that his ‘place’. It’s stuck with me because of just how awful it sounded.”
“Fuck,” Aaron mutters, sniffing as a fresh wave of tears come to his eyes. “So Emily and Derek consulting him for their case triggered those thoughts again.”
“Sounds like it,” she agrees. “They’re gonna feel so guilty.”
Aaron knows she’s in a tricky situation: her girlfriend and close friend sending her best friend into a near-breakdown, and for a brief minute he feels guilty for roping her in before reminding himself that she wouldn’t be anywhere else if Spencer needed her.
“Yeah, I don’t even know what I’m gonna do about that,” he sighs. “I thought about not telling them, because Spencer doesn’t need everyone knowing about every step of his recovery; it’s personal, right? But more secrets between everyone… I don’t know, it doesn’t feel like a good idea. Especially not for something this serious.”
“We’ll figure it out together,” Penelope promises. “Look, I’m in my car now. I’ll be there in 10, okay?”
He sighs in relief. “Thanks, Penelope.”
They hang up and he drops his phone next to him before staring up at the ceiling for a minute, rubbing his temples. Forcing himself off the sofa, he considers putting the coffee machine on but he doesn’t want the sound of the bean grinder to wake Spencer up, so he settles for a cup of instant coffee instead, putting a slice of bread in the toaster as well.
By the time he’s finished his second slice, Penelope’s letting herself in.
“He’s still asleep?”
He nods, watching as she dumps her handbag on the armchair and walks further into the apartment. It’s always strange seeing her without her usual colourful outfits and makeup on, and although he’s gotten used to it in the past year as they’ve rallied around Spencer, sometimes it still reminds him of seeing her in her casual clothes for the first time when she got shot a couple of years ago.
“I’m just gonna grab some breakfast and a tea,” she says quietly, helping herself to everything in the kitchen as she always does. “You go and sit down, I’ll be over in a minute and we can discuss a game plan.”
He obeys, closing his eyes against the headache coming on, but it’s only a couple of minutes before Penelope’s sitting in the armchair opposite the sofa with a cup of chamomile tea and a slice of marmalade toast.
“Right, the first thing we need to tackle is convincing him to get back on his meds,” Penelope says seriously, keeping her voice low to avoid waking Spencer up.
He nods. “I know. I’ve made an emergency appointment with his psychiatrist for 11am, it’s just a case of a) getting him there and b) making him listen to him.”
“The problem is that he sees going back on medication as admitting defeat or failing at recovery. We need to have a really honest, frank conversation with him about it, but I just don’t know how we’re gonna get him to believe us.”
“Maybe we should use our own experiences? He doesn’t think any less of me or think I’m weak when I take pain medication when my injuries flare up. He wouldn’t think any less of you for accepting pain meds throughout your recovery after you were shot. He doesn’t think less of his mother because she relies on psychiatric medication.”
Penelope nods. “He has a twisted perception of himself. One rule for himself, another for everyone else.”
Something about her words makes Aaron feel suddenly, desperately sad. He’s always been sad for Spencer and what he’s gone through, and he’s been crying most of the night, but the realisation, the reassertion, of just how much Spencer hates himself, what his brain’s put him through over the last two years cuts deep, winding him.
“I just wish he could see himself the way we see him,” he says sadly, another tear spilling down his cheek, as though he has anything left to give.
Penelope’s expression tells him she feels the same.
Hotch goes in to check on Spencer as the clock approaches nine, and his heart breaks for the thousandth time when he finds him staring listlessly at the wall again.
“Morning, baby,” he says gently, making his way into the room.
Thankfully, it grabs Spencer’s attention, and he turns to look at him, misery and self-loathing written all over his face. He doesn’t say anything, but he holds eye contact with Aaron long enough for him to understand that it’s okay for him to be there, and he makes his way further into the room, climbing onto the bed. He’s not expecting Spencer to immediately latch onto him, burying his face in his t-shirt as he clings to him like he’s going somewhere, but that’s exactly what happens.
“Penelope’s in the living room,” he murmurs, carding his fingers through Spencer’s hair. There’s no expectation for him to reply, so he lets the words settle over them as they lay quietly together; the calm after the storm. Aaron hopes it won’t double as the before as well.
After a good couple of minutes, Spencer shifts, and Aaron follows his lead as they shuffle out of the bedroom towards Penelope’s contemplative perch on the sofa. Spencer heads straight towards her, curling into her side and drawing the warm comfort Penelope always has to offer.
“Oh, baby genius,” she whispers, kissing the top of his head. “You’re okay. We love you so much.”
It’s apparently the wrong thing to say, because Spencer immediately withdraws, curling in on himself as he starts to cry.
“Hey, hey, Spencer,” Aaron soothes calmly as he rushes over to his side, “what’s going on?”
Penelope starts to apologise but Aaron shakes his head and she settles for resting a gentle hand on his side instead.
“Can you tell us what’s wrong, Spencer?” Aaron asks, a knot forming in his stomach as he hopes against hope that this won’t turn into a repeat of last night. “We can’t help you unless you talk to us.”
Spencer takes a ragged breath in, turning his face slightly towards Aaron’s direction, and his chest clenches at the bags under his sore, red eyes; his pallid skin. “I’m sorry,” he says shakily, wiping at the tears on his face.
“You don’t have to apologise, Spencer. You just need to tell us how we can help you,” Penelope says gently, her hand rubbing small, consoling circles on his side.
Spencer meets his eyes, his face crumpling as he does and Aaron, in that moment, is reminded distinctly of a star collapsing in on itself. Spencer heaves a painful sob as two more tears spill down his cheeks. “I don’t want to feel like this anymore.”
The admission seems obvious at surface level, but the magnitude of such a statement isn’t lost on either Aaron nor Penelope.
Aaron sighs sadly. “Come here, baby.” Spencer falls gladly into Aaron’s embrace, sobbing dejectedly into his shoulder, sounding so tired and defeated that it’s painful to listen to.
Once he’s finished crying himself out, Aaron and Penelope switch places, Aaron moving to sit on the sofa with Spencer propped up against him and Penelope settling into the armchair.
He approaches his next words carefully. “I’ve made an appointment for you to see Dr Parker at 11am. Penelope and I will take you, and we both think that you should talk to him about going back on the venlafaxine.”
To his surprise Spencer just nods tiredly, no longer crying and instead resuming his blank staring.
“And we also think you should consider talking to Derek and Emily about what happened yesterday,” Penelope suggests quietly, an encouraging expression on her face.
Spencer looks up at her, emotions flying across his face as he processes her words and how he feels about them. Briefly, he looks like he’s about to argue, about to shout or get mad, but he quickly deflates. “They’ll feel guilty,” he says miserably. “Not their fault.”
“Your relationships with everyone have come a long way, Spencer, and that’s great. But everyone is still fragile and affected by everything that’s happened in the past year, and keeping secrets like these is only going to hurt everyone more.”
Spencer’s still and silent for a moment before he nods reluctantly.
“I think that maybe,” Aaron ventures cautiously, “you should avoid doing any consulting work for a while. It’s clearly damaging for you and is always going to come with potential triggers, and when you’re already feeling sad and vulnerable, it’s really just a catalyst for an event like yesterday evening.”
Spencer nods at that, too, and Aaron wishes he could take his acquiescence as a win, but he knows it’s coming from a place of defeat and despair, and he’ll never take any consolation in that.
“Okay, sweetheart,” Aaron says. “We have about an hour until we need to leave, so why don’t we get you some food, get you into the shower, and then you can rest for any left over time? Does that sound okay?”
At Spencer’s agreement, Penelope heads to the kitchen to whip him up something a bit more nutritious than the toast they both settled for, while Aaron takes him to the bathroom to wash up.
“Are you alright on your own?” he asks as he sets the shower up for him, Spencer perching on the edge of the bath as he waits.
Instead of answering his question though, panic suddenly crosses Spencer’s face and he looks at Aaron urgently. “Jack!”
“Hey, it’s alright,” he says soothingly. “Jess is gonna pick him up from his sleepover at lunchtime and have him for the afternoon. I’ve taken a personal day and unless a case comes in, Penelope will be here for as long as we need her. Everything’s in hand.”
“But it’s Jack’s spring break! You should be spending time with him, not herding me into the shower—”
At the first sign of tears, Aaron is quick to step in, reassuring him as best he can. “Hey, I will spend time with him, alright? He was already going to be with Sam all morning, and he’ll be dropped off before dinner, so Jess is only going to have him for a couple of hours. And if you’re feeling well enough once we get back from the doctor’s, then he can come home early, but right now, your health is the most important thing we need to deal with, you hear me?”
Spencer nods reluctantly, but he can tell that the thought of cutting into Aaron’s time with Jack is only fuelling his self-loathing. Having to accept that there’s nothing he can do about that, he makes sure he’s okay in the shower before heading out into the kitchen to find Penelope.
“I can’t tell if that went well or not,” she says quietly, not looking up from the frying pan currently cooking eggs and bacon.
Aaron sighs, leaning against the counter top, his eyes fixed on the bathroom door. “I think it went about as well as it could.”
“I texted Emily and Derek, and they’re going to pop over this afternoon if we don’t get a case,” she says. “If Spencer’s not up for it, we can rearrange, but I thought it was better to be prepared.”
“No, you’re right, thank you for doing that, Penelope. What would I do without you?”
“Aw, stop it, bossman,” she says, grinning as she nudges him playfully.
He smiles. “I mean it.”
“I know. But I’m happy to help you guys out. I’d do anything for Spencer, and I know he’d do anything for me.”
“Without a doubt.”
Spencer emerges from the bathroom a few moments later, clad in a white t-shirt and some tracksuit bottoms Aaron is pretty sure are both actually his, damp curly hair a mess on his head. He can’t help but smile despite himself; his boyfriend looking so damn cute will always be a small pick-me-up on even the worst of days.
“Penelope’s cooked up a storm for you,” he says as brightly as the situation allows, guiding him to the sofa and tucking him in with a couple of blankets to get him as comfortable as possible.
He gets a small smile at that, and a murmured ‘thank you’ when Penelope brings him over a plate of bacon and eggs, arranged as perfectly as he’d expect with Penelope serving as cook.
He flicks the TV to the discovery channel, managing to catch the beginning of a documentary on big cats, and he counts it as a win when it catches Spencer’s attention, hoping it takes his mind off the pain he’s feeling just a little bit.
They spend the next forty minutes watching documentaries with Spencer before Penelope notices the time and begins herding them out the door towards the parking garage.
“No way,” Aaron laughs as she heads towards her car.
“What?”
“You are not driving, Penelope,” he says, laughing even more at her incredulous reaction. “I’ve seen you; you drive like a maniac. We’re taking my car.”
She pouts. “I hate you.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Does this mean I have to sit in the back, too?”
He just levels her with a look that has her sighing dramatically and flinging herself into the backseat, but when he looks over at Spencer and sees a smile on his face, he’s suddenly even more thankful for Penelope.
They sit in the waiting room while Spencer has his appointment and try desperately not to make each other more anxious than they already feel. Penelope flicks through fashion magazines at a pace that tells Aaron she’s not reading a single word, and Aaron reads over and over the case notes he’d bought with him to pass the time, no more going in the second, third, eleventh time than it did the first.
Finally, though, Spencer emerges from Dr Parker’s office with a script in hand and they both sigh a small breath of relief at the idea that he’s finally getting the help he’s been needing so badly.
“Okay, baby?” he murmurs as Spencer reaches for his hand on the way out of the psychiatrist’s office, and something loosens in his chest when Spencer nods and smiles, looking happier and more relaxed than he has in weeks.
Derek and Emily come over just after lunchtime, and Penelope gets up to open the door for them, Spencer and Aaron not moving from their position on the couch, Spencer resting his head in Aaron’s lap as one of his favourite sci-fi movies is playing on the TV.
When he sees who it is, though, Spencer moves to sit up slightly, still keeping himself folded into Aaron’s side.
“Hey, Spence,” Emily says softly, taking a seat in the armchair while Penelope comes over to perch on the arm, wrapping an arm around her girlfriend, “what’s this about?”
Both Emily and Derek look confused enough that Aaron knows Spencer will be able to tell that neither he nor Penelope told them what happened last night, willing to give him a last minute out if that’s what he needs, as well as full control over the narrative.
Derek comes over to the sofa and sits next to Spencer, keeping enough distance between them to keep Spencer comfortable, though he still rests a warm hand on his ankle. “What’s going on? You can tell us anything, pretty boy, you know that.”
Spencer looks to Aaron, and the expression on his face conveys what he needs immediately.
“Yesterday, your consult with Spencer on the methanol poisoning case triggered an… event,” he explains, trying to choose his words carefully. He wants to tell the truth, but he also doesn’t want to sound like he’s blaming Derek and Emily or use language Spencer wouldn’t be happy with. “It was a breaking point of sorts and as such, he decided to go back on his medication.”
Relief tied up with confusion are the first emotions he watches play over Emily and Derek’s faces. Everyone’s been hoping Spencer will return to his medication, but he knows they’ll want more information as to what exactly happened and why they’ve been asked over.
“An event?” Emily asks, sounding a little hesitant.
Before Aaron can answer, Spencer speaks up, his voice a little tired and croaky but convicted nonetheless. “It was a breakdown,” he says plainly, not sugar-coating his words. “I was in a bad place already and I was out of practice with what a time sensitive case entails, and it sent me into a tailspin. It reminded me of all the feelings that working in the BAU caused that year, and I couldn’t handle it. I lashed out at Aaron and…”
“The details don’t matter,” Aaron rescues his tailed off sentence. “The fact is we thought that more secrets were only going to make things worse in the long run, and you needed to understand what happened last night since Spencer going back on his meds was bound to raise questions anyway.”
“I don’t want you to feel guilty,” Spencer interjects, his voice anxious and urgent. “It wasn’t your fault, it’s just the way of the BAU and if I’d been on my medication like I should’ve been in the first place it wouldn’t have been a problem, it was just a horrible medley of circumstances. But I’ve decided that I won’t be doing any consults for a while until I can get my head on straight again. It may be that I’m never able to do them without being triggered, but we’re going to play it by ear.”
Aaron smiles at him proudly, kissing the top of his head as soon as he buries back in for a cuddle.
“Oh, Spence,” Emily sighs sadly. “I’m so sorry, we didn’t even think. We were so caught up in the case we didn’t even stop to consider you and how you’d interpret things.”
“I don’t want you to feel guilty,” Spencer says again, this time from his place on Aaron’s chest. “I’m sorry that it had to be you guys that triggered the breaking point.”
“We should’ve been more considerate,” Derek says firmly, his expression filled with regret. “The last thing I’d ever want is to make you feel the way I did last year, and even though other circumstances contributed to what happened last night, we still failed you, kid, and I’m so sorry for that.”
“It’s fine, seriously. In a way, I’m glad it happened. Something had to give, and I’m glad that I can look forward to finally feeling normal again. I talked to my psychiatrist this morning and even though… it still feels a little bit like giving up, I feel better about it. And we’re gonna work on my attitude to medication in the next couple of sessions until I feel more comfortable about it.”
Aaron knows how much Spencer hates talking about his recovery, so it feels like a big step for him to be so personal and vulnerable in front of four different people, even if they are all virtually his family at this point.
“I’m proud of you, Spencer,” Emily says earnestly, and even though Aaron can tell she still feels guilty, at least it’s no longer the most dominant emotion on her face.
“Me too, kid. You’ve been through hell and back and we’re all so proud of you for getting to where you are.”
Spencer smiles gratefully, but Aaron can tell he’s exhausted from the events of the morning, so he sends a look to Penelope and she shows Emily and Derek out, but not before giving Emily a kiss and being teased by Derek for it.
“Right, baby,” he says as the apartment quietens and it’s just the three of them left. “I think you could do with a nap, don’t you?”
“Don’t wanna leave you,” Spencer mumbles tiredly, clinging to his t-shirt.
“Well how about I come and sit with you while you sleep, yeah? You go and get tucked in and I’ll be in in a minute, I promise.”
“You better.” It’s not much, but it’s the closest to teasing Spencer’s come in weeks, and he’ll absolutely take it.
He gives Penelope a warm hug and disappears into the bedroom.
“Looks like I can leave you to it,” Penelope says quietly as soon as the door’s closed behind him.
Aaron looks at her seriously, before wrapping her in a rare hug. “Thank you for today. I mean it. I don’t know what we would’ve done this past year without you, Penelope, but we sure as hell wouldn’t be where we are now. I’m always gonna be thankful that Spencer has someone as wonderful as you to call a best friend.”
“Hotch,” she says tearily, “I love you both so much. You don’t have to thank me, but it means a lot that you did.”
He smiles at her. “You should go back to the BAU. Go and find Derek and Emily who are no doubt beating themselves up and tell them they’re being ridiculous.”
She gives him a mock salute as she smiles back. “You got it, boss.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Keep me posted,” she says as she gathers the last of her things and heads to the door. “Let me know how he’s doing tonight and I’ll pop round after work to see him tomorrow, okay?”
“Perfect.”
As soon as she’s gone, he climbs into bed with Spencer and wraps him up in his arms, feeling — for the first time in weeks — a distinct conviction that everything is going to be okay.
Chapter Sixteen
Soooo, we don't hate me anymore? I really enjoyed writing this part of the fic, I'm such a sucker for third act angst and the resolution is always so satisfying to me, so I hope I managed to give you guys the same feeling. Only one more chapter to go, and then we're done wtf, how did that happen? I can't wait for you to all read the happy lil ending I wrote for you! See you next Saturday, for the very last time :( If this chapter has brought anything up for you and you're feeling unsafe please check out this link <3
taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @suburban--gothic @strippersenseii @takeyourleap-of-faith @makaylajadewrites @iamrenstark @hotchseyebrows @reidology @transhanniballecter @spencerspecifics @bau-gremlin @hotchedyke @tobias-hankel @goobzoop @marsjareau @garcias-bitch @marvel-ous-m @oliverbrnch @sbeno22 @aaron-hotchner187 @kuolonsyoja @reidreids @anxious-enby (add yourself to my taglist here!)
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kingleedo · 4 years ago
Text
Leedo || Judas
[ *drum roll* I FINALLY DID IT. This is a lowkey alternate version to my previous prompt about Leedo rejecting the reader. But this one is long. LIKE REALLY LONG. But I enjoyed writing it and I hope you enjoy reading it. ]
Genre : University AU
Word Count : 3779
Triggers/Warnings: Swearing, mention of alcohol, alcohol use. [ if I didn’t mention anything that might be triggering, let me know ]
You were sitting at a bar with your friend. It was a Saturday night and you went out for a few drinks. It was also a good chance to talk about whatever happened during the whole week. You studied at the same university but your majors were different. So you’d usually share some small gossips while having a few beers.
Your friend recently got together with a boy who was one year younger than both of you, so most of your recent chats consisted of them talking about their new boyfriend. 
“So there’s this guy, Geonhak…” Your friend chirped. “He is Youngjo’s friend and he is in the same major as you.”
“Is he the new guy everybody is talking about?” You raised an eyebrow, as you looked at your friend.
“He is. Youngjo says that most of the stuff people say isn’t true. But I think he says that because they are friends.”
“Is he single?” You asked as you took a sip of your beer.
“Don’t even try. He is either one of those players or a total loner. I heard a rumor someone broke his heart in the past and now he has terrible trust issues.”
“But that makes everything even more interesting. Give me a few months, the boy will be on his knees, begging me to love him back.” 
***
As you walked toward your class, you noticed a familiar figure. He was wearing black skinny jeans and a beige knitted sweater that fell loose. You wondered how he could wear something that simple and still look like a model that stepped right from the cover of a fashion magazine. Suddenly, you noticed something fall from his leather folder and you did not hesitate to pick it up. 
“You dropped this.” You handed him a textbook and offered him a sweet smile. This wasn’t like you, but you were on a mission to find out what the boy liked and how he reacted to specific signs of affection. 
“Thanks.” He took the notebook, immediately turning around and walking away. You were taken aback but didn’t expect anything else. Perhaps, the rumors were true.
“Thanks...” You rolled your eyes as you repeated what he just said, mocking him in your head. For better or worse he was already far enough not to hear you. You clicked your tongue and went to your class.
From this moment for the few next months, it was you trying to initiate a conversation with Geonhak. Some days you’d be extremely sweet towards him, while other days you acted like you didn’t care. Your friends didn’t understand the fun in your game, but you didn’t care. As long as he was the only one falling in love, you were fine. 
A few months passed by. You were still deep in your “Winning Geonhak over” game. Somehow you felt tired, as he wasn’t an easy nut to crack, but you didn’t want to stop halfway. Last week you noticed him staring at you, but when you winked at him, you could swear to God, he turned red and looked down at his plate. That was a big leap forward, but you still had a long road ahead.
One day you asked your friend if they could convince their boyfriend to ask Geonhak to tag along with the three of you. But Youngjo ruined everything by calling it a double date. As soon as Geonhak heard the word “date”, he was done. However, you thought it was for the best. After all, you didn’t want him to think that you were in love with him or something. You also noted to yourself that asking Youngjo for help was just as helpful as asking an art major to help you with your chemistry homework. 
***
It was Friday and once again you had a free hour between your classes, so you were just chilling with some of your friends at the cafeteria. Seoho was watching origami videos as he tried to copy different figures and you just watched him. You were bored, but not that bored to start making animals out of paper. You were ready to let out a loud groan when you saw a door to the cafeteria open and a blond head protrude through it. At first, you didn’t even recognize him, but the moment he walked closer you nearly gasped. Seoho noticed the change in your expression and laughed. He then pushed your side with his elbow, almost making you fall off your chair. Luckily, you managed to hold the balance. You straightened up and glued your smug smirk to Geonhak. Blond complimented him well. You thought to yourself.
The boy never failed to look amazing. The collar of his black shirt was unbuttoned, revealing his neck and collarbones. The sleeves of the shirt were rolled up, exposing his strong arms. He paired the shirt with a pair of grey, ripped jeans that hugged his thighs just perfectly. The moment he walked in, all eyes were on him. He was just that hot. Some girls were whispering to one another, probably spazzing about how they wished he was their boyfriend. Even guys were jealous of him. Some envied the body he had, some probably had a crush on him as well. You couldn’t blame them. Sometimes you wondered if you started catching feelings for him, after all, that was all Seoho ever talked about. He was teasing you a lot, but you always denied it. You said you were the one playing Geonhak and not the other way around.
You rested your chin on your hand, still watching Geonhak from afar. You didn’t care if he noticed, as that was exactly what you wanted. You were waiting for him to notice your stare so that you could attack. But the moment you caught his stare on you was when he was two feet away. The corner of his lips was slightly raised and you scored a point to yourself. You knew he couldn’t resist you, he was just too cool to admit it or show it. But you knew that he can’t control his body the way he wanted.
As he stopped next to your table, your smirk only grew bigger. You stared him down from head to toes and licked the corner of your lips, making sure he noticed every movement of yours. 
“Ah, Geonhak! Hello!” Seoho chirped as he flailed his arms towards Geonhak, almost hitting your head. You turned your head to Seoho, your eyebrows raised as you gave him a questioning look. Now since when did they know each other. You thought Geonhak hanged out only with Youngjo and his other friend, Dongju.
“Right…” Seoho chuckled. “I met Geonhak a few days ago in the library, he was making all these cool origami figures. So I asked him if he could meet me during my break and teach me. Thank you once again.” Seoho smiled wide, his eyes turning into the adorable crescent moons. You sat there shocked, but soon you pulled yourself together.
Your smirk disappeared but your eyes were still glued to Geonhak. He sat right in front of you and you wondered why didn’t he sit next to or in front of Seoho. But you couldn’t complain.
You put both your elbows on the table, holding your hands together, intertwining your fingers, as you put your chin on them. Your eyes were digging holes in Geonhak’s face, but he tried to ignore you. His body was slightly turned towards Seoho, but you knew he could still see you with his peripheral view. A few minutes passed and he still didn’t turn his head towards you, not even a bit. All of his attention was focused on Seoho, as they made their stupid paper duckies. Seoho was giggling like a girl in love and you couldn’t help, but force a gag in your fist. 
Spending time with the origami enthusiasts didn’t sound exciting, but now that Geonhak was sitting right in front of you, there was no way you could leave. You needed to make the most of it. You bit your bottom lip as you thought of a way to get his attention. Suddenly Seoho jumped up, causing both you and Geonhak to look up at him.
“I’ll be right back.” He smiled and ran off.
“I swear to God if it’s one of his little, stupid plans...” You cursed under your breath and shook your head.
“Aren’t you the only one with little, stupid plans here?” You heard a low voice and you jerked your head toward the source.
“What is this supposed to mean?” You moved your head even closer to him, puckering your lips a little. Finally, he scooped in his seat and turned his whole body towards you. His face was so close that if he leaned in a little closer, you could easily kiss him. You could smell his cologne and for a second you forgot what you were thinking about. The mixture of the sweet and spicy scent simply lured you in.
“You know what it means. Aren’t you the best in your major… You must be smart, huh.” He chuckled. 
Woah, a chuckle from this man kicked you right in the feels and you moved away. For a moment you felt like you were the prey of his. But you couldn’t let him take control of the game you created, so you mentally kicked yourself and straightened up. You gave him another daring look, as your tongue ran against your upper teeth. The look must have made him uncomfortable, as he let out a forced cough and looked down. The controller was back in your hands, so you continued the attack.
“So you know a lot about me… Been asking around?” You run your thumb against your lips and your smirk grew bigger. Geonhak still couldn’t look you in the eyes and you wondered where did the cool guy go all of a sudden.
“There’s not much to know.” After a short pause, he stared back at you. “Don’t think too good of yourself, it’s unattractive.” 
You were offended, but you didn’t show it. Who does he think he is? Telling something like this when he doesn’t even know you. A part of you wanted to slap him, but you remained calm and collected. There was no way you could let him win.
“Honey darling, now who is the one thinking too good of themselves. Mr. Kim Geonhak, the one who is too cool to befriend people. Mr. Kim Geonhak is so tough and cool, he is untouchable. You aren’t even allowed to mention his name.” You teased him with a smile on your face. These were the things that were spread like a disease all around the campus.
“Are you jealous they all want me and not you?” He leaned in closer, taking you by surprise and making you move a little back. But you were quick to get back at him.
“And who told you I want them to want me?” You leaned just as close, leaving almost no space between your faces. You unintentionally bit your lip again, as a strong desire to kiss his lips filled your body. 
“You guys, I swear to God!” You heard an annoyingly familiar voice and you wanted to kick him to the moon. Why does he always appear at the wrong time? “Y/N, I leave you for a minute and you’re already sucking on his face.” Seoho laughed out loud, as he sat down at his spot.
“Eww, I would never!” You mimicked, but as soon as you caught Geonhak’s gaze, you blew him a little kiss.
***
A few more months passed. Geonhak was hanging out with your friend group more and more. Now that he knew both Youngjo and Seoho, you saw him around more often. And even though he was closer with the boys, he was still cold towards you. There was a time when you saw some girl tagging along with him and you wondered if he finally got himself a girlfriend or was it another admirer of his hot ass.
The thought of him dating someone made your blood boil. As much as you tried to prevent yourself from catching feelings, you couldn’t help it. The constant teasing and bickering made you want to get to know him more. You simply couldn’t get enough of him. Even though sometimes his words offended or hurt you, you wanted more of this. This was the kind of bad romance that was so bad it was good. 
You hurried to the cafeteria. Hwanwoong was throwing a frat party and you were in charge of helping him prepare for it. You knew that Seoho and some other friends were already there. You were the only one running late because your professor decided to interrogate you about your last presentation.
As you rushed through the hallways, you felt someone grab your hand. The moment you turned your head to look at the one who dares to do it, your heart stopped beating for a moment.
“Seoho told me you were running late, too. I wondered if I’d catch you halfway.” Geonhak grinned, as he let go of your hand.
“Oh yeah? Remind me to kill that boy!” You groaned. But not because you were mad at Seoho, but because you didn’t want Geonhak to let go of your hand.
“The last one buys drinks!” He slapped your shoulder and jumped in front of you. The last thing you knew before he ran off, was him winking at you. You let out another groan and ran after him.
“Kim Geonhak, I swear to hell!” You weren’t a sporty one, but having the chance to win over him gave you enough adrenaline to run as fast as possible.
You ran through the hallways, with Geonhak sometimes stopping to check up on how far behind you were. Only for you to catch up to him, giving him a playful poke or a slap on his thigh. You were tired and you wished the cafeteria was closer, but it was delightful to hear him laugh so wholeheartedly. 
Finally, you made it to the cafeteria; and before you both could fall through the door, Geonhak grabbed both of your hands and pulled you closer to himself.
“They won’t understand if we barge in like this.” He smirked, as he tried to catch his breath.
“Who the fuck cares what they think or what they don’t understand.” You freed your arms and pushed him to the side. As he tried to catch his balance not to fall, you opened the cafeteria door and ran towards your friends. Once you touched the table, you stick out your tongue and laughed. You ignored the judging looks the rest gave you.
Geonhak approached you as if nothing ever happened, sitting next to Seoho. You rolled your eyes and walked up to him. You bent down from behind, as you put both your hands on his arms to support your weight. Still ignoring the weird glares, you whispered into his ear. 
“The drinks are on you, babe.” You resisted the urge to bite his ear, as you straightened up and walked to sit next to Hwanwoong.
“Now what the hell were you two doing?” Hwanwoong leaned in closer to you with a huge grin on his face, only to have his face pushed away. You looked over at Geonhak and smirked.
“You’re too young to know.” The loud gasp leaving Hwanwoong’s mouth didn’t surprise you. But Geonhak’s eye roll amused you. You winked at him, as Seoho shushed you all so that he could start sharing his ideas.
***
You were leaning against the kitchen counter as you watched the people in the living room. Some were dancing, some were drinking, while others played some games. Everyone seemed to have a lot of fun, but you didn’t share the vibe. You bit down on your cup that was filled with whatever Hwanwoong mixed in. Usually, you were the life of the party, but this evening you simply couldn’t bring yourself to do any of the frat party activities. 
“Hey, Y/N! What’s buzzin’?” Suddenly you got approached by a wild Keonhee. He playfully bumped your hip and chuckled.
“Surely not me…” You laughed, as you twirled your cup and looked at the alcohol in it.
“How come!! You guys worked your asses off to make this party happen and look how great it is! You should be out there, dancing on the table.” 
“I guess. But don’t feel like it for some reason.” You looked up at him and shrugged your shoulders.
“Did anything happen? Do you want me to find Seoho?” He tilted his head. Everyone knew that Seoho was your best friend and he was the one who was able to lift your mood in seconds. But this time you weren’t sure if even Lee Seoho could help you. You shook your head and rested your hand on Keonhee’s arm.
“There’s no need. I’m okay. Guess just need to drink more.” You forced a smile, but you knew you weren’t completely okay. You saw Geonhak an hour ago, talking to some girl and giggling like a girl in love. You tried to ignore it, but deep down you were both jealous and angry. He never acted that way around you. You wondered what was so special about her that made him giggle like this.
“Oh by the way…” Keonhee’s voice brought you back from the world of your sorrow. “Geonhak was looking for you. I think he is upstairs.” He nodded his head.
“Geonhak?” Your eyes widened as you couldn’t believe that Keonhee mentioned his name.
“Uhmm!” Keonhee nodded again. You hid your excitement, even though inside your heart was beating with a rapid speed and you felt like jumping in your spot. Yet you didn’t know what was the reason he was looking for you. Maybe it was another one of his stupid games. 
You left your drink on the counter and made your way to the stairs. You asked some girl on your way if she saw Geonhak, luckily it wasn’t the one you saw him with before. But then your heart froze as you were afraid you might catch them together again. 
As you walked past all the people, checking some of the rooms at your own risk, you couldn’t find the boy anywhere. If Keonhee tricked you just to pull a prank on you, he was dead. You passed the bathroom, thinking that it was a dumb idea. But then you took a step back and decided to give it a try. As you reached for the doorknob, the door flew open and you saw no one else, but Geonhak himself.
“Hey, Y/N… Are you perving on me?” He chuckled. You rolled your eyes and pushed him back into the bathroom, locking the door behind you.
“What if I am? What you gonna do?” You approached him, cornering him, as his butt pressed against the sink. You couldn’t resist, it felt good to be in control. Even though he was taller, you were the one who had him under control. You placed your hands on the sink, framing him in the spot, as you waited for his answer.
He looked down at you, clicking his tongue. The next thing you know, his arms are on your waist. It took him a swift movement to lift you and place you on the sink. Your back against the mirror. His strong arms moved down to your thighs and he leaned in closer.
“I don’t have to do anything. You did everything yourself.” He smirked.
“What is this supposed to mean?” You crossed the arms on your chest and stared at him.
“You should quit playing, Y/N. Everybody knows you have a crush on me.” He licked his lip and winked at you.
“Oh my God, I can’t believe the audacity.” You scoffed.
“So you gonna keep on denying it even though it’s so obvious?” He chuckled, moving one of his hands up your thigh. You froze in your spot and bit your lip. You cupped his face and moved in closer, looking at his lips. Only to press a finger against them and pushing him a bit away.
“I would never have a crush on someone like you. You’re full of yourself.” You chuckled, as you tried to free from his embrace. But he was stronger. He lightly pushed you against the mirror again, forcing your legs to spread, so that he could stand in between them and move closer.
“How unfortunate.” He shook his head, a smug smirk not leaving his face. “I thought we could be a cute campus couple. But if you don’t like me, I might as well ask Yoona out.” He teased. You gasped for air but you were hesitant as to what you should do next. He might be playing you and you couldn’t let him win.
“Us? A couple? What the… Do you like me?” You raised an eyebrow.
“I do... “ He nodded. “At first I thought you were weird. Playing your stupid game, making me fall for you. I thought it could never work, so I ignored it. But as time passed by I couldn’t stop thinking about you…” You sat there watching him in shock. You honestly couldn’t tell if it was an act and a part of some prank or if he was genuine. You slowly reached out to him, moving his hair from his forehead with your hand and pressing your palm against it.
“What are you doing?” He blinked.
“Checking if you have a fucking fever, Kim Geonhak.” You groaned.
“A fucking fever?!” He groaned back. You saw a glimpse of disappointment in his eyes and suddenly you felt bad. You cursed yourself in your head, as you didn’t know how to fix the situation at this moment. Here he was, the boy you liked, confessing to you that he liked you. And you turned it into a dumb joke. You bit your lip and cupped his face, moving closer to him, so that you could kiss his lips. You wrapped your legs around his waist, as his strong arms found their way around yours. The kiss didn’t last long, but it was gentle. As if you tried to apologize with this one.
“Still won’t admit you like me?” He teased again, as he moved away from a kiss.
“I do, I do! Now shut up and kiss me again.” You chuckled, as you pulled him into another kiss.
43 notes · View notes
forbiddendrabbles · 2 years ago
Text
Our Hope
Backstory for this: was in the mood for some good old-fashioned thundercest and came across @bbshipper21‘s fic “Brownies, kisses and confessions.” (https://bbshipper21.tumblr.com/post/163974197028/brownies-kisses-and-confessions) Then I was scrolling through to see if there were more pieces farther back in their blog and came across this (https://bbshipper21.tumblr.com/post/149347920933/max-and-pheobes-14-yo-daughter-her-power-is-time) prompt. I don’t know if the people they tagged ever wrote anything, but I really wanted to try. I’ve never written for this ship, and I normally write in the first person, not the third, so this is probably a little bit awkward, but I figured I would post it anyways. I don’t know if @bbshipper21 is still active, but if they see this, I hope I did it justice.
Our Hope
Ships: Max x Allison (briefly), Max x Phoebe
Trigger Warning: Brief Suicidal thoughts/actions
Word Count: 4123
“I love relaxing with my girlfriend,” Max said as he reclined on the couch, watching the hockey game. He honestly felt a little bit guilty about not watching it at his girlfriend’s house, but parents and him did not mix well, even if it disappointed her.
“You missed the puck!” What Allison said next was missed because he happened to glance around the room and watch as fourteen-year-old Hope appeared on the stairs. Eyes widening in panic, he’s quick to speak.
“Uh- Allison, I’ll be right back. I just forgot I needed to check something in my lair.” Hope’s eyes snapped to Max at the sound of his voice, but when she heard him mention his lair, she opened up the tunnel and slid down. Max watched, even more concerned by this random girl who apparently knows her way around his house.
“Oh, do you need any help?” Allison asked, glancing at him.
“No, I should be fine. Hopefully, it won’t take too long.” He brushed off, heading toward the slide as quickly as he could without looking suspicious.
“Okay, hurry back. You don’t want to miss too much of the game,” she called after him.
When Max landed on his bed, he saw Hope looking around at everything in wonderment.
“It’s so different…” She muttered.
“Who are you?” He demanded, causing her to whirl around in shock. He quickly lifted her using telekinesis, and used power-neutralizing handcuffs to restrain her to the desk chair. He wasn’t taking the risk of her using whatever power she did upstairs to escape.
“Dad!” Hope panicked. Shit. This isn’t my dad, yet. And who is that girl upstairs? Mom and Dad said they started dating around this time… This is what I get for wanting to know how my parents got together.
“Last I checked, I don’t have any children. My girlfriend upstairs can vouch for that.”
“Girlfriend?! That is not my mom!” Maybe not the thing to be focused on Hope.
“And I’m not your dad! You’re only a couple years younger than I am!”
Hope takes a deep breath, realizing this is getting her nowhere.
“Let’s start over. Hi, my name is Hope Thunderman. I’m from the year 2033. I was born December 21, 2018. I am currently fourteen years old, and I’m your daughter.”
Before Max can respond, Allison calls down to him.
“Max?”
“Coming!” He turns to Hope, “Stay here.”
“As if I have a choice?” she responds, shaking her restrained arms to prove her point.
Well, this blows. I wonder if he’s even met mom yet…
While Hope was left to ponder on her parents’ circumstances, Max made his way back to Allison.
“What’s up?”
“Your dad went to change his shirt and said he would be back to watch the game with us, but I need you to meet my parents tomorrow.”
“Allison, I’m a rebel. Whenever I’m around adults, especially parents, I just start insulting them.”
“You don’t have a choice. My parents said if you don’t come to the opening of their business tomorrow, we can’t see each other anymore.”
“What?”
“To them, no boyfriend is good enough for their sweet, little Ally-wally. Please, don’t give them a reason to break us up.”
Max sighs in defeat. “Fine, I’ll go to their grand opening.”
“Great! I’m going to call and tell them.”
“I’m going to go downstairs to prepare, I guess. You can watch the game with my dad when he gets back.” Ignoring the fact he basically just blew off his own girlfriend in his house, he went back to his lair using the stairs, locking the door behind him. He then blocked the slide to make sure no one else could get in.
Hope watched all of this lazily, quite bored.
“Are you done?”
“Look, I do not want to explain why there is a random fourteen-year-old girl in my room.”
“I’m not a random girl; I’m your daughter!”
“Well, let’s just put that to the test, shall we?” He walks over and plucks a hair from her head before going to one of his gadgets to test the DNA.
“Ow! You couldn’t just ask me questions like a normal person?”
“People lie. Science does not.” A few moments later, he looks at the results. “Okay, you’re my daughter. Although, your DNA is a lot closer to siblings…” He brushes that off before looking at her in excitement. “Am I ruling the world in your time?!”
“What?”
“Come on, you can tell me. Am I the world’s greatest supervillain? Is your mom my dark empress? Actually, who is your mom?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you call her that... and why would you be a supervillain?” Max’s world stopped. “As for who she is, I don’t know if you’ve met her yet, since you said you’re dating what’s-her-face upstairs.”
“Hey! That’s my girlfriend.”
“Not for long, based on what you told me. You told me that you and mom started dating around this time. That’s…kind of why I’m here.”
“What?”
“You and Mom are so in love… I just wanted to know how it began. But every time I ask… you guys just… avoid the question. As if it’s some big secret. So, I figured I would use my powers to get answers on my own. Plus, I get to meet my grandparents! I’ve never met any of either of your families…”
“Why not?” Max looks confused. He can’t imagine his family leaving him alone for fourteen hours, much less fourteen years.
“You guys always said that you didn’t get along with your parents… Then, Grandpa Thunderman had a heart attack, and Grandma couldn’t be in this house anymore, so she moved. When you guys found out, you bought this house, saying you guys spent a lot of time here before you had me.”
“Yeah, but what about your aunts and uncle? Why haven’t you met them?”
“You have siblings?!”
“…yes?”
“Can I meet them? Please, Dad?” Hope made the doe eyes she knew her father could never resist.
“Okay, fine! But first, you can’t call me that. At least, not around anybody. There will be way too many questions.”
“Got it. Max it is.”
“Second, you can’t tell them about the future. If anyone asks, you’re a student I was told I had to mentor to avoid failing math.”
“You’re great at math, though.”
“Just go with it.” Hope rolls her eyes but agrees. “Third, you have to tell me who your mom is.”
“You have a ‘girlfriend’.”
“I just need to know if I know her or not! Oh! Let me get you out of those cuffs.”
“Fine. Her name is Phoebe.” Max drops the keys in shock.
“What did you just say?” He whispers in shock.
“Her name is Phoebe? I don’t know her maiden name. She told me she prefers not to think about before she married you. I could never find it when I snooped, either…Dad? You okay?” Max shakes himself out of it. There’s no way… it can’t be.
“Y-Yeah. What was I—oh the cuffs.” He quickly releases his daughter.
“Thanks. So… do you know her?”
“…The only Phoebe I know is my twin.” Hope stares at him in confusion.
“That’s not…there’s no way…you wouldn’t have kept that from me…” Hope looks at her dad’s teenage self, begging him to agree with her.
“It’s not possible! Even if I wanted her,” He scoffs nervously, “which I don’t, Phoebe hates me anyways…”
“Can I meet her first, then? Just to be sure…”
“There’s nothing to be sure about. It isn’t possible! How long are you planning to be here for, anyways?”
“About that…”
“Hope…” He mutters threateningly.
“I don’t actually know how to get back…”
“What?!”
“I didn’t come here on purpose! I’ve never traveled more than a few minutes forwards or backwards. I’ve never had to make a return trip.”
“Wouldn’t returning just be another trip forwards?”
“I don’t know! I don’t want to risk it and get stuck somewhere. At least here, I know you. I could land anywhere and not know anyone.”
“Fuck. Okay. Let me call Phoebe. She’s more likely to know what to do, as much as I hate to admit it. Tell her I said that, and I’ll… ground you.”
“You’re not my dad yet,” Hope scoffs in annoyance.
“You think I’ll have forgotten this when you get back to the future? Ha! Try me. I’m great at holding grudges.”
She rolls her eyes, “Fine. Just call her so we can figure out how to get me home. In the meantime, I’m going to take a nap. Time travel is exhausting.” She trudges over to her father’s bed and lays down, falling asleep within a few minutes. Max looks at her fondly. That’s my daughter. His face turns more conflicted. She said her mom is Phoebe… I know how I feel, but there’s no way Phoebe feels that way. She’s too���pure. There’s a reason I’m dating Allison. To get over Phoebe. But if this is Phoebe’s daughter, too… Max shuts down the thought before it can even be completed. There’s no point to getting his hopes up. He picks up his phone and dials Phoebe.
“Max, I’m literally in my room. You couldn’t have come up here?” He can hear the annoyance in her voice.
“I didn’t know if you were home. And it kills me to say this, but I need your help.” He whispers, not wanting to wake Hope if she’s a light sleeper.
“Ha! That’s hilarious. Now what’s the real reason? And why are you whispering?”
“Just come down to the lair. This is something you need to see for yourself. I’ll unlock the door. But be. Quiet.” He hangs up before she can respond, knowing if she wasn’t going to come, she definitely will now, if only just to yell at him for hanging up. He quickly unlocks the door and moves to sit in the desk chair, staring at Hope pensively.
A few minutes later, Phoebe opens the door.
“Alright, I’m—”
“Shh!” Max quickly shushes her.
“Don’t shush me!”
“Phoebe!” He aggressively whispers, trying to get her to lower her volume before Hope wakes up.
“You called me here!”
“You’re going to wake her up!”
“Wake who--?” It’s too late. Hope stirs.
“…Mom?”
Max’s face fills with fear as his heart picks up speed. He can’t decide if he’s happy that it’s his twin, or if he’s dreading her reaction as he looks back and forth between Phoebe and Hope.
Phoebe looks at the girl on the bed before looking at Max. “What. Did. You. Do?”
“Phoebe…”
Hope is fully awake at this point, and her eyes are filled with tears.
“So, you did lie to me.” Max turns to her and feels like his heart is ripped out of his chest.
“Hope…”
“Save it, Dad! You both knew I would come here! Why wouldn’t you have told me?” She shouts, sobbing. “Why didn’t you trust me?” She whispers.
“Hope, please! I didn’t know!”
“But you did. Maybe you didn’t when I got here today, but you did before I left. You’ve known this whole time.”
“But—"
“What’s going on?” Phoebe looks faint.
“Phoebe… this is our daughter, Hope.”
“…Th-this is a joke, right? I’m your sister. Your twin sister.”
Max hands her the DNA report before looking at Hope. “This explains why your DNA was closer to siblings than to offspring, I guess…”
“This isn’t possible!”
“Mom…”
“Don’t call me that!”
“Don’t talk to her that way! Can’t you see how upset she is?! Clearly, she didn’t know!”
“She’s upset?! I’m upset! I just found out that, at some point in the future, I fucked my twin! She shouldn’t exist!” Phoebe’s voice rises hysterically, while Hope sobs in the background.
“Get. Out.” Max’s voice is low and threatening.
“Excuse me?!”
“Get OUT, Phoebe! It wasn’t her choice to be brought into this world, it was ours! And you just said she shouldn’t exist! She’s having a hard enough time coping without her own mother telling her that!”
“She’s right…” Hope whispers.
“Don’t you dare, Hope. This is not on you.”
“Maybe I should try to go home… If-If I get lost, then Mom will be happy, right? I won’t exist…”
“Hope!” Max fills with panic.
“Now I know why you never told me… because I shouldn’t exist at all,” she laughs sarcastically. “Don’t worry. I won’t anymore.” Before she can go anywhere, Max grabs the power neutralizing cuffs and stops her from leaving. “NO! Let me go!” She sobs, struggling against Max’s arms around her.
“Shhh. It’s okay, Hope. Just breathe…”
“She doesn’t want me…” She sobs, leaning into Max. Max glares at Phoebe from where he holds his daughter protectively on the bed.
Phoebe is filled with guilt. “I—” She reaches out towards the bed, but Max holds Hope tighter in attempt to protect her from more pain.
“Just go, Phoebe. I should have known better,” Max says disappointedly.
“We need to talk about this!”
“There’s nothing to talk about. I called you to help me send her home. Instead, you told her she shouldn’t exist. I always knew you hated me, Pheebs, but this is a new low, even for you.” Max has tears running down his face, but his crying is silent, resigned. He doesn’t want Hope to worry.
“…you think I hate you?” Phoebe has never felt smaller in her life.
“Don’t you? You just told our daughter that she shouldn’t exist. You all call me a fuck up on a daily basis. I have never belonged here. If anyone shouldn’t exist, it’s me.” Hope can hear the pain he’s trying to hide, so she turns to cuddle farther into him, unable to wrap her arms around him while cuffed.
“I love you, Daddy,” she whispers, just loud enough for him to hear. He tightens his hold on her even more in response.
“Max...”
“I have always known my feelings were wrong, Phoebe. Why do you think I’m dating Allison? Why do you think I don’t want to meet her parents? I don’t need them to tell her that I’m just using her to get over someone else. Someone I can never have. Link left, and I was happy, Phoebe. And I knew it was fucked up. You were devastated. And it just proved you would never see me that way… so when you pushed me towards Allison, I said yes. It’s what you wanted. And I’m trying so hard to accept her… but she isn’t you. She never will be. So maybe the best thing…would be for me to not exist. Then I don’t have to lose Hope… and you don’t have to deal with me.”
“Max.” Max doesn’t even hear her anymore. He turns to his daughter.
“Be strong for Daddy, Hope. You were the one thing I did right.” Using telekinesis, Max slits his wrist with a knife from his desk.
“NO!” Phoebe’s scream of terror comes too late. The blood is spilling from his wrist, and Hope is starting to fade away, flickering in and out of existence in Max’s arms. She locks eyes with Phoebe.
“You always told me I was named because I gave you hope… I’m sorry I couldn’t do that for you anymore. Goodbye, Mommy,” she whispers, crying.
“No.” Phoebe whispers as she shakes her head. “No! This wasn’t supposed to happen…” She sobs, falling to her knees. “…I should have told you the truth…”
The blood is still seeping out when something in Phoebe ignites.
“And I will. I’m not losing Hope.”
She uses her freeze breath to stop the blood from coming out more and checks Max’s pulse. It’s weak, but still there. Hope stops flickering.
“Hope?” Phoebe calls out to her, their, daughter.
Slowly uncurling, Hope looks around in confusion. “…Mommy?”
“Hope!” Phoebe sobs, wrapping her arms around her. “You’re okay…” she whispers, crying.
“Daddy!” Hope shrieks, seeing the blood. “Daddy, wake up!” Despite Phoebe stopping the blood coming out, Max isn’t waking up, and his pulse is still very weak.  Hope turns to Phoebe in determination. “Mom, I need you to take the cuffs off of me.”
“No! You’re my daughter. I am not losing you!”
“I can save him! But we’re running out of time. If you don’t get me out of these cuffs, I’m going to start to fade again, and you’re going to lose us both.”
Seeing the resolve in Hope’s eyes fills Phoebe’s chest with pride. She’s a hero. Phoebe quickly grabs the keys and unlocks the cuffs.
“Okay…” Hope took a deep breath. “I can do this. I’ve never done it with another person, but there’s a first time for everything.” Her nerves start to creep in, and she looks to Phoebe for strength. “I have to reverse time. And I need you to save him.”
“What do you need me to do?”
“Hold my hand. We’re going back to just before he summons the knife. I need you to stop the knife from making contact with him.”
“Won’t more than one of us being there cause problems?”
“As long as we exist in the moment we travel to, we end up in those bodies. I didn’t exist in this time, so I guess that’s why I appeared as myself. If I had traveled to when I was four, I would have my current mind in my four-year-old body. So I’m going to end up back in the cuffs in his arms, and you’re going to be free. You need to stop the knife.”
“Okay.” Phoebe takes a deep breath to settle her nerves before grabbing Hope’s hand. “Let’s do this, baby girl.” Phoebe watches as the world around them turns to white. The next thing she knows, she’s watching Max say goodbye again.
“Be strong for Daddy, Hope. You were the one thing I did right.” Time slows as Max summons the knife, Phoebe watching in fear. I won’t lose you. I won’t lose Hope. As she thinks that, she throws the knife across the room just before it touches his wrist.
“I did it…” She whispers in shock.
“Phoebe…” Max whispers in shock, but also in pain.
“You did it, Mom!” Hope cheers in relief, jumping off of Max and going toward her mother. Phoebe quickly undoes the cuffs and pulls Hope to her, stroking her hair as she hugs her.
“You gave me hope,” she whispers in her ear.
She wipes her daughter’s tears before turning to her future husband, her twin. She marches over to him and slaps him.
“Don’t you ever even THINK about pulling that shit again!” She says, crying.
“Phoeb—”
“NO. It’s my turn to talk. Yes, I loved Link. And I was devastated he left. But… I loved him as a friend. I tried to want more. Because loving you was wrong. But nothing is more wrong than a world without you. And without Hope. I love you. I know our family doesn’t understand you… and I let them get in my head. I let them influence how I treated you. And I’m so sorry, Max. You are not a fuck up. You are everything I have ever wanted and never let myself have. And I am done standing in my way.”
“Wha--?” Phoebe doesn’t let him finish, pressing her lips to his. She wraps her arms around his neck, tangling her hands in his hair as she climbs on his lap and deepens the kiss. His hands wrap around her waist, pulling her flush to him.
Hope stood off to the side, heart filled with joy as she saw her parents kiss for the first time. This is why their love is so strong. It stood the test of everything in the world being against them, including themselves.
As Max and Phoebe start to get carried away, Hope clears her throat to remind them she’s in the room.
“I’m not supposed to be born for another two years, so maybe you should put off making me. At the very least, wait until I’m not in the room.” Phoebe blushes bright red, while Max chuckles.
“Definitely my daughter.”
“Our daughter,” Phoebe corrects him.
“Our daughter,” He agrees, staring at her lovingly.
“Still here,” Hope interjects.
“Right. Well, Hope, I think I know why we never told you how we got together…” Max says, smiling.
“Because we needed you to give us hope that we could,” Phoebe finishes.
Hope looks at her parents with tears in her eyes before flinging herself into their arms. “I love you guys,” she whispers.”
“We love you, too.” They hug their daughter, still in shock of the day’s events.
“Now, when are you planning on going home?” Phoebe asks.
“That’s why I called you to start with, Pheebs. She doesn’t know how to go home.”
“Wouldn’t she just travel forwards?”
“That’s what I said!” They both turn to Hope, eyebrows raised expectantly.
“Okay, so I might have told a teensy tiny fib to see how you guys got together,” she mutters sheepishly.
“Hope…” Max warns.
“But hey! Now we know I will definitely exist because of it. Who said lying never solved problems?”
“Hope,” Phoebe admonishes.
“Yes?”
“Thank you,” Max said. “Without you… I wouldn’t have your mom.”
“And I wouldn’t have your dad.”
“…so can I meet your family?”
“Why haven’t you met our family?” Phoebe asks. Max looks away, now understanding.
“I guess…now that I understand your relationship…that they didn’t accept you. I won’t actually know until I go home and ask, but in my time, neither of you ever mentioned siblings. I’ve never met my grandparents… I can’t meet Grandpa anyways, but you don’t talk to Grandma.”
“…why can’t you meet dad?” Phoebe asks hesitantly.
“…he had a heart attack. Grandma moved after that, and you guys bought this house.”
“Dad’s gone?”
“…I’m sorry, Mom…”
“…no, it’s okay. I’ve still got time with him.” Hope doesn’t remind her that they don’t talk before he dies. She doesn’t want her mom to break down again.
“So, can I meet them? I know they can’t know who I am… but I want to know where I come from.”
“Sure. We can say you’re a transfer I’m showing around.”
“See, Dad? That makes so much more sense than you helping me because you’re failing math.”
“Max, you’re great at math,” Phoebe looks at him baffled.
“That’s what I said!”
At that moment, something occurs to Phoebe.
“Max… what are you going to do about Allison?”
“I guess… I’m just going to have to tell her the truth. I didn’t want to meet her parents because I didn’t see this as lasting. I knew I was still in love with someone I knew from our last town, and I tried to get over her, but I can’t. And if she doesn’t buy that, I’ll tell her I love pollution and cutting down trees.” Phoebe laughs.
“That will work great. She’ll never talk to you again.”
“Good. I’ll have more time to focus on you,” he whispers flirtingly in her ear. She pushes him away by the face before taking her daughter’s hand.
“Ready to meet your family?”
“Nervous.”
“Don’t be. We’ll be with you every step of the way. And then, you’re going to go home and find out what happened to all of them. Not for us, but for you.”
“Yes, Mom.”
“Phoebe. And Max. No need to cause a fight.”
“Right. Phoebe and Max. Nice to meet you. I’m Hope.”
They went upstairs and spent the night playing games. Hope ate dinner made by her grandmother and watched her aunts and uncle use their powers to tease each other. Her grandfather made a few digs about Max being a supervillain, but otherwise seemed friendly. When it was time to leave, Hope hugged her parents tightly.
“When I get home, I’m going to give you two the biggest hug.”
“We’re looking forward to it. We’ll see you soon, Hope.”
“I love you.”
“We love you, too.”
Hope vanished, leaving the twins to process the events of the day.
“You know, Pheebs. She just said we couldn’t make her. She didn’t say we couldn’t practice.” Phoebe smacks him in the arm.
“No way. You need to earn it first.”
“Gladly.” He pressed his lips to hers happily, finally at peace with himself.
“Hey, Max?”
“Yeah?”
“What do you think is going to happen to our family?”
He takes a deep breath. That’s a loaded question.
“I think… that we’ll have each other no matter what. And if this family doesn’t want us, we’ll make our own. Our daughter showed me that.”
“She really is our Hope.”
The end.
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chaoticspacefam · 3 years ago
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The Lana Shipping Meme!
This is a meme made by @swtor-legacy-sitcom​ who very kindly tagged me to fill it in, thank you! :D This was super fun, I’ve been in a bit of a writing rutt lately so this was a nice way to sort-of dip my toe back into it :P I TOTALLY forgot this was in my drafts and forgot to schedule it to post, I’m soooo sorry it took so long lmao 😳😬
I’m not sure if we’re supposed to tag other people with this one so I’ll just leave a general, open tag here: if you have a Lana ship and want to fill this one out, feel free to yoink the meme and say I tagged you! Yes, I promise I mean you <3
Spoilers for KOTFE/KOTET, and slight spoilers for the Subterfugeverse “version” of said events, will be discussed below, so be aware of that before proceeding! There’s also some midlly nsfw questions so you might wanna skip those if they’re not your thing! :D Under a cut because it’s long, but no trigger warnings need apply.
Is Lana Beniko absolutely done with their shit?
Oh yes, absolutely. Nearly always. At any given time, BUT Lana wouldn’t have it any other way. Saarai may be a reckless, overly-heroic idiot with seemingly no self-preservation, but she’s Lana’s reckless, overly-heroic idiot, ya know :’D
Do they make jokes together?
Fairly often, yes! Theirs is very much a flirty/fond banter type of relationship. Lana tells her she’s insufferable, Saarai rolls her eyes and snarks back, so on. See:
Saarai: Well this was a stupid idea Lana: Considering it was one of yours, I’m not surprised Saarai: Why didn’t you say something? Lana: I did and you did it anyway. And what have we learnt from this? Saarai, quietly: I’m a dumbass and I should listen to you more.... Lana: Good. I still love you, though. Saarai: :’D
Lana, two minutes later: You’re going to do it again, aren’t you? Saarai: Yeah, probably.
as well as that little cutscene “You’d better come back blah blah blah” “Well I have you to rescue me, that’s all I need~” is their default pre-dangerous battle banter :P
Who’s hornier? (who initiates)
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Saarai is definitely hornier, and while she’s not always the one to initiate, she’s definitely the one to ask more often. (if I had to give it a number, prolly something like 65/45 lol) One of these days, Lana’s going to buy a spray bottle /jk
Kinkiest they’ve been?
Not awfully. Saarai’s a biter (Lana likes it, don’t worry 😏) and she loves it when Lana pulls her hair, but other than that, and making use of connections within the Force to heighten the sensations during such activities ;) they’re pretty vanilla
There was a post going around a while back about an alternative to a praise kink that was like, a “reassurance” kink, instead. I can’t find the actual post to link to it and I haven’t pinned down any specifics for them yet but I definitely think that’s a Saarai thing to look into later 😏
Has Lana ever covered up something your OC did as Minister of Intelligence?
In a roundabout way, yes. Technically, Saarai’s entire existence on Rishii. Since, teeechhnically, as far as the Empire’s concerned at that point, Rai’s supposed to be dead. Lana doesn’t know the technicalities of why that is (and Saarai isn’t comfortable telling her, even now), but she knows it’s important, so she does it for her even if she doesn’t know why.
Favorite non sexual downtime activity?
Cuddles! Saarai is a cuddlebug, and while Lana enjoys them she’s definitely not the “if I don’t get cuddled x times a day I can’t go on” type (in my headcanon, ofc, I’m not saying she can never be that way!) but, Saarai’s also very warm and cuddling her is cozy, so it’s something they both enjoy, whether Rai’s the big spoon, or - and this is Rai’s favourite thing ever - Saarai putting her head in Lana’s lap so Lana can play with her hair, it’s something they always do at the end of the day when they’re both done with work.
Mushiest thing Your OC has ever done for Lana?
So, I’m too impatient & lazy to do the actual HK missions in-game, but I know you can technically get another HK unit, so because ✨it’s my fanfic and I get to make the rules✨ Saarai sent Aria (my DS! Jedi Shadow, very good at stealth) back to Zakuul and though it was a bit battered up, she managed to retrieve HK’s processor. They had to get him a new chassis, but Koth and Ty managed to salvage the rest of his “important” bits and they rebuilt HK for her after they settled on Odessen :’3
Most Embarrassed Lana has ever been because of your OC?
In the middle of an important meeting, in front of everyone on the Alliance High Council, including Theron, Senya, Ni’kasi, Vano, etc.
Lana, sarcastically, after they’ve been disagreeing on how to handle a particular matter for ~1 hr: hahaha bite me.
Saarai, dead serious: Okay, where? 😏
Lana was mortified, to say the least XD
That thing that happened that they vow to NEVER speak of?
Saarai’s reaction when they went to Nathema. Rai’s psychometric, and in hindsight she realises putting her hand on that wall as she ducked into the building was a mistake. She was bombarded with flashback after flashback of what had happened on Nathema when it was still Medriaas, the planet where she was born and where most of her family died, it was not a pleasant experience for her and Rai actually collapsed at one stage because it was all too much for her ;w;
Lana had to bring her back around and herd her back on the ship, where Rai had to wait because she just couldn’t go any further, and Lana and Vano had to go on alone. Lana agreed not to tell anyone else about what had happened, because Saarai didn’t want any of them to worry about her, or think she was “weak” because of it.
The Angriest they’ve ever been at each other?
There’s actually two instances that come to mind for this one
1) Koth’s betrayal/stealing of the Gravestone, Lana was pissed at Koth and wanted to take it out on him, Saarai was pissed at the situation and got between them and chewed Lana out for taking it out on him. (Subterfugeverse is kinda complicated, there’s two Commanders calling the shots for different parts of the Alliance, Koth took issue with something Vano did and made the reckless, kinda stupid decision to still steal the Gravestone even tho Saarai didn’t do anything. (also for anyone new to the blog, all three of them are dating, they’re polyam ;)) Lana took it personally, Saarai was more upset that he was upset and didn’t say anything before he did something stupid. Rai and Lana butted heads about how to deal with it, Lana got salty cause she got yelled at, but they ofc fix it later :3)
2) Torian’s death. Saarai had tried to warn Lana what would happen if they split Vette & Torian up during that fight, Lana brushed it off and told Rai to “stop overreacting, it will be fine”. Obviously, it was not fine. Rai was very angry at the result because, I quote, “I WARNED YOU! And you wouldn’t listen to me!” Saarai refused to speak to Lana for a few days after that, it was kinda a rough time for Lana, she’s only seen Rai get that angry a few times, and only once at her so it shook her a bit. 😢
How does both Lana, and your OC initiate the ‘fade to black’ ;)
For Saarai, the “indicator” is usually when her kisses start to become 50/50 between kissing and biting/nibbling. That’s the universal “ok I want to” signal for Rai. Usually very quickly followed by a soft “yes?” or “are you sure?”, either against her skin or into her ear, depending on where she’s kissing at the time; because she’ll always check first, and if Lana says “no”, it’s off, because Lana’s consent is more important than any of her feelings.
For Lana, it’s when she’ll let Rai pick her up and/or usually to pin her to a wall. There’s a decent height difference, Saarai’s 6 ft 3, and I headcanon that while Lana’s not necessarily “short” at around 5 ft 8, she’s considerably smaller than Rai, as well as being more “reserved” with PDA, she’ll hold hands, or kiss her on the cheek etc. in front of other people, but otherwise Lana tries to keep somewhat “professional” while they’re at work. So when she starts climbing her like a tree, Rai knows she’s about to get some. XD
Do they have kids?
Kiiiinddd of? It’s complicated. Saarai has a son, Ty, from a previous relationship. Lana & Koth both sort of step up to help co-parent, but since Sith Purebloods age differently (i.e. they’re adults at ~20ish the same as humans, but after that they’re more like elves and their physical aging slows down, so they’re more long-lived), even though Ty’s very young by Pureblood standards, he’s still 60 years old, so he’s technically older than Lana and it’s kind of awkward for him to actually call her mom even if she kind of acts like one. He accidentally called her “mom” once, it was very awkward for both of them XD
What has been the most protective Lana has ever had of said kid?
I sat and scratched my head for ages trying to think of something to answer this question with, but I’m very sad to say that right now at the time of answering this meme, I don’t have any specific scenes planned out to tell you about! :( But rest assured that Lana absolutely would rush to help Ty if it was ever necessary :D
House pets? Is your Lana a dog person, or Cat person?
Funnily enough, they don’t actually have any pets! I’d like to think of Lana as more of a cat person than a dog person, in my personal opinion. But they have yet to get any pets of their own, maybeee later on, I dunno. Haven’t hit on any solid ideas for them yet, but I feel like if they happened upon a cute kitty they definitely could adopt one at some stage :’3
Do they get freaky on the Alliance Base or in the Shuttles?
They’ve done both, to be honest lol. Thankfully, Saarai’s sneaky enough that they haven’t gotten caught doing it, yet. Thank the Force.
Are their Sparring Matches Flirtatious? Hardcore?
They could go either way, it depends on what kind of mood they’re both in. If Lana’s particularly annoyed (usually not at Rai, but sometimes) then it’s more likely to be a hardcore spar, Rai’s a pretty tough cookie so she’ll often offer to be Lana’s punching bag in order to spare them some repair bills so she doesn’t rip apart the training dummies irrepairably, it’s okay, Rai can take it ;)
But if they’re both in an otherwise good mood and are just sparring for practise sakes, then yes, they often very quickly devolve into flirtacious banter and some of the classics, you know, “okay you win, you can let me go now” “mmm, nah” “I thought we were sparring” “do you want me to stop” “...don’t you dare.” etc. :’D
Class Specific things that play into their relationship?
Saarai’s a Juggernaut, and I headcanon Lana’s probably some sort of Sorcerer, so they tend to fight as such. They cover each other in more ways than one, if you want to get to Lana you have to go through Saarai first (and good luck to you, that woman can take and give a fucking beating lmao). Lana picks off whatever Saarai’s saber misses, usually with Force attacks but sometimes with her saber, too. Saarai takes bullets for Lana so Lana doesn’t have to get hurt. Lana yells at Rai for doing that and then fixes her up with Force healing afterwards, rinse and repeat. :’D
When they do argue, Lana tends to spontaneously manifest Force lightning, Saarai’s used to it and doesn’t bat an eyelid, she knows Lana’s not actually going to throw it at her and she’s more than prepared to dodge any stray bolts that do come her way.
Lana’s the tactician and the ground support, Saarai’s the battering ram/the bigass hammer used to clear space when Lana needs a bit of extra “oomph” (and trust me, they’re usually never far apart. The other one will be there and then you’ll be in trouble lmao)
Describe a time your OC went ‘Full beast mode’ to protect Lana, instead of the other way around?
"Kriff. Koth, what happened?” Three words was all it took, and everything made sense: “They hurt Lana.”
That scene in the Endless Swamps on Zakuul, just before they pull the Gravestone out of it and Lana and the Commander get ambushed. Saarai went with Lana & Koth to break Vano out of carbonite (since Saarai was still on Rishii at the time, she doesn’t get frozen, only Vano) so when they split up, Saarai goes with Koth to look for ship parts while Vano goes with Lana to look for water.
Lana and Vano get ambushed by the Knights/Skytroopers, and Lana’s hand gets busted. It takes Saarai and Koth a little while to rush over there to help them, but when they do
Saarai. Goes. Fucking. Feral. It’s the scariest she’s ever been in front of Lana and Lana will never forget it, they almost didn’t really need Senya’s help for that part, Saarai basically had it covered. I imagine Lana later described it as “kind of hot, but also kind of terrifying, actually”
Saarai’s considered Chaotic Good, so generally speaking if there’s a peaceful, non-violent solution to a problem, she’ll opt for that, but she has a few buttons that you just do not want to push, ever. And hurting her partners is one of those buttons. She will go apeshit and that’s exactly what happened in the swamp lmao
Little things couples do to annoy each other. What does Lana do? What does your OC do?
Saarai likes to wake up early and hide Lana’s kaf mug in increasingly ridiculous places. Once, she even got Koth to help her stick it to the top of the Gravestone’s hull. It took Lana half the morning to find it, Lana was not amused. XD
Saarai and Koth also have an ongoing “terrible puns” contest where they basically see who can annoy Lana with the most ridiculous puns possible, see this post for an example :P Lana wonders where/how they keep coming up with these puns, she really does.
Does Lana get jealous in your headcanon?
Not really! In Subterfugeverse, both Rai and Lana are polyam, so generally speaking, jealousy isn’t a problem for them, and when it is it’s more of a case of “hey. Hey. Hey, I’m not getting enough attention, pay attention to me.” and then it’s usually dealt with and all is well ;)
When Lana meets Anri, the only thing Saarai does is tease her about “when she’s going to make the move”. 😜
Story that is prominent in their relationship?
I was gonna draw a little doodle for this but the poses kept not coming out right so I gave up, sorryyy qAq
I haven’t gotten very far into planning the SoR onwards+ segments of Subterfugeverse, just bits and bobs like this, but I’d say for now the most prominent is probably their first meeting on Rishii. Basically, meet-cute but with a lightsaber involved too hahaha. There was a lot of posturing and flirty subtext right from the get-go with these two, even if Saarai was particularly suspicious at first (see the earlier question about her being technically dead to the Empire). At first, when she noticed Lana tailing Ty (because Lana was extremely confused about why a Pureblood was so far from Sith space ;)), Saarai assumed that something had happened to her twin and the Empire had A) found out she and Ty were still alive and B) Sent Lana to track them down and kill them for good. Several tension-loaded hours later and Lana managed to convince Rai that actually, Ni’kasi was fine and speaking of, she was trying to avoid being killed too so maybe, actually, they could help each other. And that was all she wrote <3
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deadlyglacier · 3 years ago
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20 Questions tag~
I was tagged by @mythicamagic thank you senpai~<3
How many works do you have on AO3?
40 right now, plus 1 that is still hidden because of the SOFA Exchange event.  (I’m still a lil fish.)
What’s your total AO3 word count?
486,920!  That’s so amazing to me!
How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?
InuYasha - A Feudal Fairytale (18)
FullMetal Alchemist (18)
Mass Effect Trilogy (3)
Let’s Play (Webtoon) (1)
Kingdom Hearts (1) But I hope to write for many more fandoms in the future!  I have ideas for fics for Castlevania, Skyrim, Fallout 4, Last of Us Part II, and more!
What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
#1.  Stardust FemShep/Garrus, Mass Effect Trilogy, Rated Explicit. A retelling of the Shepard/Vakarian love story, with lots (and LOTS) of sexiness, from Garrus' point of view. Starts from before the Omega-4 and will end sometime after the end of ME3. Trying to stay as true to the game as possible, while adding some things happening off camera and a new ending.
#2.  Flamingo Sess/Kag, Inuyasha, Rated Explicit Kagome's method of beating the summer heat attracts a certain demon lord...
#3.  Hawk Sess/Kag, Inuyasha, Rated Explicit Kagome and Sesshomaru discover they have a mutual attraction for each other after a battle and a slight comedic incident brings them together. At first their relationship seems entirely sexual, but eventually evolves into something real. What will this romance mean for Naraku? Or even the future?  *TRIGGER WARNING FOR CHAPTER 6! MAJOR VIOLENCE AND TRAGEDY* Very, very loosely based on "A Mere Digression" by elle6778
#4.  Daisy Sam/Charles, Let’s Play, Rated Mature Sam wakes up somewhere unfamiliar with a splitting headache with no memory of the night before. Takes place right after the S2 finale.  First chapter was my prediction for what would happen next, and then three other “wishful thinking” chapters happened, lol.
#5.  Chemistry Ed/Winry, FullMetal Alchemist, Rated Mature A look at how the relationship between Ed and Winry developed after Brotherhood ended.  Cute, sweet, funny, and hot (eventually—y'all that know me know I gotta have some NSFW in there).
Do you respond to comments, why or why not?
I try to respond to everyone, especially when a fic of mine has just been posted, but sometimes I just forget.  If I haven’t responded to your comment, please know it’s just because I’m a big dumb and forgot!  I love getting comments, and I reread them all the time!  I just feel like there’s a time limit to when I can respond to them--if I let too much go by, it’s awkward if I reply.  Gah, but that’s just me getting in my own head, I guess.  I’ll do better!
What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?
Oof, definitely Psychology, a fic I wrote for RoyEdOTPoly this year.  The prompt I got was dark, and I didn’t see any way around an angsty ending.  Read at your own risk!
What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?
Well, aside from the last fic, I try to write happy endings for all my fics!  But, if I have to name names, I’m torn between Zoology (another FullMetal Alchemist fic, RoyEd, for RoyEdOTPoly this year) and Stardust (my Mass Effect fic, which is long, but so worth it, in my opinion).  Both are very fluffy in the end!
Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written?
Argh...  I don’t really like crossovers, to be honest.  I actively avoid them when looking for fics to read.  But that doesn’t mean I haven’t thought of writing them myself.  (I’m a total hypocrite, I know.)  I had an idea for an Inuyasha x The Sims fic, years ago, that I never did anything with.  The premise was basically Inuyasha and Kagome would get trapped in the game somehow (via the jewel or magic or something), and they’d be controlled by Souta, Kagome’s friends, Hojo--all sorts of different people who think the fact that Kagome and Inuyasha are in the game is just some kind of silly mod.  I probably won’t write it, so if anyone is interested in that crazy idea, have at it!  You have my blessing. <3 I also have a crazy crossover idea for what I call an “Ultimate OT3″ of mine that I’ve mentioned to my friends, but I haven’t actually written down yet:  Sesshomaru/Alucard/Sebastian Michaelis.  So be on the lookout for that!
Have you ever received hate on a fic?
I wouldn’t call it “hate” so much as “mansplaining,” but I have gotten a couple of comments that made my eyebrow twitch on Stardust--both on AO3 and FFN.  Just dudes (and I’m fairly certain they were dudes, just from their tone) trying to explain why a certain plot twist wouldn’t work, or tell me how to save Sidonis in the actual game (which I already knew, that person just didn’t read what I wrote). I’ve also gotten a comment on one of my more controversial fics, Hippology, on FFN, where the person asked me if I thought my summary was K-Rated (which, admittedly, it does need to be for the site, and mine wasn’t--because of a single word).  I changed it and messaged them saying it was fixed.  Going to that commenter’s profile, however, proved to be fairly enlightening...  They’re nuts.  They have another profile, too.  Read at your own risk.  Yikes. There’s also a team of people on FFN who make it their life’s mission to report stories with rule violations.  I’ve gotten a comment from one of them as well.  These people are not mods, they just like to pretend they are--one of them even made their name look official!  “CU Administration,” gtfo dude. I also recently got one of my fics removed from FFN.  It wasn’t even one of my sexiest ones!  They put me in timeout for 48 hours, and when I was finally able to publish something new on the site again, I posted Hippology (my centaur smut), and it’s still up as I type this.  (Wonder how long it’ll take them to notice?)  And since the fic that got taken down was a SessKag fic, I’m thinking it might have been a petty SessRinner who reported it to the “authorities” of FFN, because another friend of mine got hers taken down not long after mine, and it was also SessKag.  Just my tinfoil theory, anyway!
Do you write smut? If so what kind?
Yes, yes, yes.  It’s practically all I write.  I do all sorts of smut, from romantic, sensual stuff, to specific kinks, to monsterfucking--all that good stuff.  Can’t change me~<3
Have you ever had a fic stolen?
God, I hope not!
Have you ever had a fic translated?
I don’t think so.  No one has asked me if they can translate one, anyway.
Have you ever co-written a fic before?
Not yet!  I’m open to the idea, and I’ve had little discussions with my fic-writing buddies about it, but nothing’s come out of it just yet.  Keep your eyes peeled!
What’s your all-time favorite ship?
Oh, now come on!  I can’t pick just one!  But I’ll give you a top 3 (in no particular order, because they change places a lot, depending on how obsessed I am with them at the moment). Inuyasha:  Sess/Kag FullMetal Alchemist:  Roy/Ed Mass Effect:  Garrus/FemShep
What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?
I have a couple of stories that I deleted from my original FFN account that I’d like to re-write and re-post on AO3, but I don’t think I’ll ever get around to it.  There were a couple of Inu/Kag fics I had in-progress, and then a Koug/Kag fic.  I recently rewrote and reposted my SessKag fic from years ago, Hawk, on FFN, AO3, and Dokuga!  So maybe all hope isn’t lost.  I’m even writing a sequel for Hawk! All the stories I have in-progress right now I plan on finishing.  At some point, lol.
What are your writing strengths?
Dialogue, without a doubt.  It’s my favorite thing to write, aside from smut, of course--which is another strength of mine.
What are your writing weaknesses?
Descriptions, ugh.  I try to do them well, but I always feel like they get stale.  So I keep them somewhat vague, because in my mind, I think readers will fill in the gaps themselves whether you describe something immaculately or not--they’ll see what they want to see, and that is totally fine in my book!  Or maybe I’m just making excuses, lol.  I’ll only describe something in a lot of detail if I want the reader to focus on that--usually an outfit, accessory, or weapon--otherwise, I leave it up to their imagination (I don’t want manipulate it too much, I suppose).
What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?
Wildly unnecessary unless that author speaks the language as well, or if certain words already exist in the fandom’s translations (ex. “youkai,” “alkahestry,” etc).
What was the first fandom you wrote for?
Inuyasha, and the fic(s) I wrote in the beginning were terrible.  I want to burn all traces of them off the face of the earth.  I was in middle school.  I was young and stupid.
What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?
I gotta go with Stardust.  It’s the longest fic I’ve ever completed at more than 160k words.  I was so immensely proud when I typed “The End,” and I was able to say to myself “I did it.”
I tag: @glassesmcfancyhair @willowsrain 
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concealeddarkness13 · 3 years ago
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WHG 15 Post-Games Imposter Syndrome Part 29
Trigger warning for torture and blood and violence. This happens the day after part 28! Tagging: @ratracechronicler (also thanks for Hugo!), @maple-writes (also thanks for Aurora and Volt!), @pen-of-roses, and @thoughts-of-nora!
The day after the interview, I looked at my phone messages again. I had never responded to “Shine”, but after that interview, it was time to take the chance. If I couldn’t escape during the masquerade, the Capitol could force me to stay with Fallion. If it was a trap, I couldn’t be any worse off than I was now. I took a deep breath and sent the text. I’ll meet you tonight, if the offer still stands.
A few minutes later, the person responded. Perfect. Meet me here. I’ll get Nesri to come too. I flinched at Nesri’s name. They sent a map with a location marked off. It was in an alley, which was the perfect meeting place for someone who was supposed to be dead, or the perfect meeting place for a trap. But I had to take this chance. I sent a thumbs up.
And my door slammed open. I set my phone down as nonchalantly as possible as I smiled over at Churi. With a nice glare to complement it. I jumped up as he walked in. And, oh joy, Aurora herself was behind him. What were they planning? “To what do I owe the pleasure of having not one, but two important Capitol officials in my room? I’m hardly dressed for the occasion.” I just had on a normal tank top and practical pants.
Aurora just piped up. “I think you know what you did.”
What the fuck? I had been obedient during the interview, and it had been Bystander who had scared Fallion off. What else could she be talking about? Me being rude? I smirked over at her. “Aw. Are someone’s feelings hurt?”
Churi stomped up to me and grabbed the front of my shirt. I didn’t try to fight back. There was no reason. “You’re almost not worth the trouble it takes to keep you in line. What will it take, girl?” Aw, were both of their feelings hurt? I smirked at him. But then he put a knife to my throat and cut it shallowly. “You should learn your place.”
In the background, Aurora moved her hair to the side to show off a scabbed over cut on her neck. What the fuck? What the hell was she pulling? I opened my mouth to say something, but Churi brought the knife up to my mouth, and I snapped it shut. He smirked. “That smart mouth of yours will get you into trouble. I should just cut out your tongue now.”
Shit. I tried to back off, but he wouldn’t let me move. So, kept moving my head away as his knife followed me. I dared open my mouth sparingly, eyeing Aurora. “You know, I think the show wouldn’t be much of a show if I couldn’t speak. Wouldn’t people ask questions?”
Aurora crossed her arms as I kept trying to dodge the knife. “Oh, now you want to do as you’re told? Funny how that works. Should have thought of that earlier.” She thought a bit and sighed. “Though I don’t particularly want to make more work for myself either.” She stepped further into the room, nodding at Churi. “Perhaps start with something else while we think. Take her hair perhaps? Tell everyone she had a night caught in the horrors of the arena and acted rashly in front of a mirror?”
The piece of shit. I didn’t try to say or do anything, though, when Churi tightened his grip on my shirt and grinned. “With pleasure.” Shit. I stiffened but didn’t make a move against them as he grabbed my hair and hacked his knife through my hair. As it tugged and pulled, tears involuntarily blurred my vision, and he also shallowly cut my neck, as if by accident, as he made a mess of my hair. Big chunks of it fell at my feet, and the tears slipped down my cheeks from both the pain and the humiliation. Aurora was just watching.
When Churi was finally done, he put the knife back on my throat. “Are you having second thoughts about mouthing off now?”
I tried to sound cheerful, but it didn’t work as well as I’d like. “I never even wasted time on first thoughts. That would be too much time wasted on the likes of you.”
“Maybe if you spent time on first thoughts as you call them you wouldn’t be in the position you are right now.” Aurora stared daggers into me. How fun. “I hope you’ve learned your lesson about attacking Capitol personnel.”
Wait, what? I frowned. “Indigo?”
Churi slammed the hilt of the knife into the back of my head, and I crumpled on the ground, dazed. Shit. “Don’t play stupid!” He slashed my back, and I bit back a scream. “You know what you did! And after every precaution I took for you, you’ve still gotten around everything!” He slashed my back more, but I still didn’t scream. But then he plunged the knife into my lower back, and I screamed, tears streaming down my cheeks from the pain. Shit. I couldn’t do anything. I was helpless.
Through the blur of tears, I saw Aurora walk over to my bed. Had she noticed my phone? Would she see my messages with “Shine”? Shit. I tried to get up, but I could barely move. She reached down, under my pillow, and pulled out a…glass shard? What the hell? She showed it to Churi. “What have we here?”
Why was this such a big deal? I frowned. “What the hell—?”
Churi took the knife out of my back, and a fresh wave of pain made me scream again. He grabbed my right hand. “After everything. Why won’t you break? Why won’t you give in? You were never supposed to exist anyway, so why can’t I stomp you out, crush that pride?” He stabbed the knife straight through my hand, digging around in a circle. I screamed, blinded by pain and tears. Why? Just because I had mouthed off at her?
Churi hissed out a breath and turned me over. I glared up at him, but it wasn’t that effective with tears still streaming down my cheeks. He laughed. “You were never meant to be born, and honestly, I should just kill you now. But I’m too nice. So, I’ll just brand you instead.” He cut into the skin around my collarbone, and when he was done with that, he moved to the other side. And I screamed. It was just too much. “You’re just a worthless and helpless human, and you now have the scars to prove it.”
I just stayed crumpled on the ground as Churi and Aurora left, and a minute later, the healer came and made it all worse. But at least I wasn’t bleeding out anymore.
I didn’t move the rest of the day until it was about time to leave for the meeting. It wasn’t going to be real. Was it just a coincidence that Churi tortured me right after I accepted the offer? They knew what was going on. They were just fucking with me again. But I had to try. It was my only chance.
I couldn’t make my hair look any better. I didn’t have any scissors, or even a brush. So, if it really was someone friendly, they’d see me as a wreck. Oh well. At least it was too dark to see my scars. I had looked in the mirror, and the scars on my collarbone said “worthless” and “helpless”.
I headed out to the alley the person had indicated, and I waited for the text. Sure enough, a few minutes later, a text showed up on my phone. Bring me that horizon. Fly out to the sea.
I swallowed hard and texted back. I’m horizon bound. This was it. The moment of truth. I stepped out of the darker shadows and squinted at the two figures at the other end.
I recognized that shock of messy hair. Shine? Were they really alive? And…and Volt too? My voice cracked when I spoke. “Volt? Shine? You’re really alive?”
Volt nodded and took a hesitant step forward, but I ran for Shine and hugged them tightly as I started sobbing. They hugged me back. They were really here. They were alive. Indigo had lied to me. I spoke in between sobs. “I—I was told you were killed.”
They moved back and took out their phone, putting me on a group message with Volt. “Repeat that?”
While Volt spoke up. “What?”
Shit. I had completely forgot I had to text them. They couldn’t read my lips at night. And they probably didn’t know about what Indigo had said about them. I wiped my eyes furiously and texted. “Indigo told me that she found Shine and killed them. She even showed me their decoy phone to prove it.” I pulled it out and handed it to Shine, who stared at it a little before taking it.
They texted back quickly. “That bastard scientist. I just ran into her at her office building, and she didn’t try shit.”
Volt scowled and texted as well. “Indigo is nothing but a coward. She wouldn’t do anything like that on her own.”
I sniffled a little, still on the verge of tears. “She said that she had found them already badly hurt, and she just put them out of their misery.” Volt spit out a string of curse words, and I laughed. “Don’t worry. I beat her up pretty badly after she told me that she killed them.” Shine sent a laughing emoji.
Volt nodded. “Good.”
Shine nodded as well. “So, about that masquerade. I think that would probably be the best time to get everyone out. Reine, Volt, Ariel, and Syl escaped, so they’re safe. And the crew escaped as well. So, we just need to rescue you, Hugo, Enzo, Lewison, Avery, and Scorpio. Do you know if everyone will be at the party?”
I nodded. “I think so.”
Shine continued texting. “It’ll be hard for security to keep track of everyone at the masquerade, so we should be able to get everyone out. We have Volt’s hovercraft, so that should be a good escape route. It will still be difficult, but we can discuss with our separate groups and figure it out later. Also, do any of you still have your trackers in?”
I frowned. I hadn’t even thought about the tracker. “I think just me. I wasn’t able to get mine out.”
“That’s good, if we only have to remove one it might not be too bad,” Volt texted. She looked up, thinking. “We’ll have to find a non suspicious way to get rid of it.”
Shine nodded. “I could potentially make a machine that disables it, but we’ll need a backup plan just in case I can’t make it fast enough, which is probable. We can’t just take it out now because that will be noticed right away. And we don’t want any suspicion from the Capitol right now.”
“And if one of us does it I worry someone might see through our disguises.” Volt sighed, but then she brightened. “I’ve been told Warren will be there. I wonder if they would be willing to do it since the capitol doesn’t have any reason to be looking for them.”
Shine responded. “That’ll work. But if I can’t finish the machine, they might have to cut out the tracker. Would they be ok with that?”
“I might have to talk them into it a little but they’ll understand the importance.”
I nodded. “That is a good idea. Thanks. I’ll discuss with my group about more plans.” I moved to a text with just Shine. “I’m just so glad you’re alive.”
They smirked. “What, you thought a stupid scientist like her could stop me?”
I had missed them so much. “Sorry for not believing in you.”
They shook their head and patted my shoulder. “I don’t blame you. I can’t imagine what they’ve been putting you through. What happened to your hair?”
So, they did notice. Shit. “Stupid shit, as usual.” I glanced over at Volt. “I’d like to talk with her, if that’s ok.”
Shine nodded, and I turned to Volt, tears threatening to spill over again. “I’m—I’m so glad to see you. I’m glad I didn’t fuck everything up.”
Volt pulled me into a tight hug, and I folded into her arms. I felt so safe. “I thought you were gone, all of you.”
Shit. I started sobbing. “Thank you for being here. I would have understood if you had just left. Everyone else who was captured is okay. Not fine, but they’re not defeated yet. And I’ll make sure they’re ready for the party.”
She swallowed hard. “I left you once when we left the arena and I’m not doing that again.” She pulled back after a while longer, but she kept her hands on my shoulders. “Stay strong just a little longer and it’ll be over soon.”
“Thank you. I’ll try.” I frowned. Wait, hadn’t Shine said that Nesri would be here? “By the way, how’s Nesri doing? Shine said she was here too, and they were going to get her to come with them, but I see that didn’t work.”
“She’s busy being a growing concern who refuses bed rest.” Volt smiled a little. “But she’s recovering.”
I laughed. That sounded like her. She could never sit still. “Thank you for watching over her too. I owe you a lot.”
She waved her hand dismissively. “I don’t mind, and she’s been keeping Skyler busy.”
I opened my mouth to say something else, but I glanced at my phone. It was getting way too late. I didn’t want them to come looking for me. I frowned. “I should go back before they get suspicious,” I said, then moved to text to Shine. “Thank you so much. Keep in touch.” I turned back to Volt. “Thank you for this. I feel a lot better now. I’ll be in touch.” I hugged Volt once more and started walking off.
Wait, what about Hugo? I hadn’t told anyone else about the meeting, since it could have been a trap. But they had been close too. I turned back before Volt and Shine left. “Do you have a message I can give Hugo?”
She looked back at me. “I don’t plan on leaving here without you. Keep your head up and hang in there.”
I couldn’t help but smile as I walked back. At least that had been real. Now, I just had to make sure I didn’t fuck this opportunity up.
When I got back to the apartment, I walked straight to Hugo’s door. I just had to tell him that we had hope. That it was going to be okay. I cracked open his door and poked my head in. “Hugo! Wake up!” In a whisper since I didn’t want to wake up anyone else.
He rustled and muttered something, but he didn’t wake up. The little jerk. I laughed a little and walked over to his bed. I half whispered again. “Hugo! I have good news!”
He scowled, his hair even more wild than normal. “It’d better be all-you-can-eat pancakes. What?”
I grinned and sat down on the bed next to him. He was just so awesome and funny! “I was able to get in contact with one of my crew, and I was able to meet with them and Volt! And we have the start of a plan that should actually work!”
He sat up and stretched. “Your crew. So they’re okay? And Volt?”
I kept grinning. It was just amazing. Shine was alive, and all of them were safe. “Yeah! Shine’s—they’re okay! They’re all okay! And Volt gave me a message for you: ‘I don’t plan on leaving here without you. Keep your head up and hang in there.’.” I sniffed, fighting back tears again. “They’re all okay. And I didn’t fuck everything up. And we have a plan. We’ll discuss it more, but it sounds like the best time to escape is during the masquerade.”
He sat for a while, not saying anything, and I just basked in the high of seeing Shine again. I shook myself out of it when he spoke again. “…Masquerade?” He flubbed the pronunciation, but close enough. “That’s the plan?”
“It probably will be the best time when the guards are spread too thin. We’ll discuss it more. It’ll be hard, but it’s better than any plan I’ve come up with.”
He didn’t speak for a bit. “Oh—okay, good.” He smiled a little. “Yeah. A plan!” He nodded. “Knew I could count on you.” That felt like a blow to the stomach, but I kept the smile on my lips. “Sorry I wasn’t part of the brains behind it. But I’ll do my part, whatever it is. Just tell me what I gotta do when the time comes and I’ll trust you, alright?”
I froze and looked away from him. Why did he trust me? I choked on my tears. “I didn’t…do anything really. Shine was the one who contacted me. They convinced me to meet with them. They told me that the masquerade would be the best time. You really shouldn’t trust me. All I’ve done is fuck things up. I’m just happy someone else has a plan.”
He didn’t say anything for a while, and I tried to furiously wipe away my tears before they could fall. There was a ripping sound, and I looked up in enough time to see him finish ripping off a corner of his blanket. What? He handed it to me. “Maybe just let that out. Whatever it is, it looks painful holding it back. I won’t judge.”
I didn’t deserve him. I laughed a little through the tears. “I thank your blanket for its sacrifice.” I sighed and leaned back. “I’ve just been lucky to have friends like you. I would never have been able to get this far alone. Thank you.”
He took a deep breath. “Hey. Nobody gets far alone, okay? I’ve been thinking. You know that grand old ship we were on? I wondered a little what’d happen if I tried taking it for myself—just stupid thoughts you get when you’re bored. I wouldn’t get anywhere, would I? Cuz you need someone at the lines and the helm and the galley and so many things at once. And everybody fucks up sometimes, but the rest of the crew’s there to throw ‘em a lifeline and keep the whole thing going. That’s how I think maybe it is. I mean, a skiff, you could sail alone, but you’d drown in the first storm. Life’s too rough a sea to sail alone. At least, that’s how I’ve been thinking about it. I don’t know if that helps at all.”
Oh shit. I really was going to cry. All that he was saying was true. But…I was a captain. I had a responsibility to keep others safe, not so much the other way around. I didn’t trust my voice, so I didn’t speak.
He uncurled a little and sounded awkward, but earnest. “Do…do you need a hug? Would that help?”
What? I stared at him for a while, but I had stopped crying, at least. “Well, yeah, it would be nice. But I know you don’t like them…”
He shrugged. “You’re okay. I like seeing you upset a lot less.”
I really didn’t deserve him. I started sobbing as I hugged him tightly. It was a little pointy because of his elbows, but I couldn’t ask for a better hug. “Thanks.”
“Sure thing.”
I stayed for a while longer after the hug, but when I knew I was about to collapse from exhaustion, I left before I accidentally fell asleep on his bed. And I didn’t have any nightmares.
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rainecreatesstuff · 3 years ago
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Chapters: 2/4 Fandom: Minecraft (Video Game) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Ranboo & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, TommyInnit & Ranboo, No Romantic Relationship(s) Characters: Toby Smith | Tubbo, Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF) Additional Tags: Goat Hybrid Toby Smith | Tubbo, Platonically Married Ranboo and Toby Smith | Tubbo, Ranboo and Toby Smith | Tubbo Have a Child Named Michael, Ranboo Tubbo and Tommy run away from the SMP, Kind of like a fix-it fic but not really, sorry I’m not great with tags aha, Fluff, Family Fluff, just so so much fluff, Queerplatonic Ranboo and Tubbo, bee duo, Bench trio, Technoblade is a softie, TommyInnit Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo Needs a Hug, TommyInnit Gets a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo Gets a Hug, Traumatized TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Traumatized Toby Smith | Tubbo, lots of hugs and cuddles, Phil Watson is Called Philza (Video Blogging RPF), I don’t think I need any trigger warnings, but If I do please let me know and I’ll add them :), Snowchester on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Platonic Relationships, Platonic Cuddling, TommyInnit Has PTSD (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo Has Horns, Toby Smith | Tubbo Has Mental Health Issues, Ranboo Has a Tail (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo Has Mental Health Issues, god i hate tagging things, no beta we die like tommy- wait- shit no, no beta we die like Wilbur- FUCK-, NO BETA WE DIE LIKE UHHHHH MEXICAN DREAM, Rated T for Tommyinnit Swearing, and tubbo swearing, and maybe phil i don’t remember, point is, Swearing, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort Series: Part 1 of Runaways AU
Takes place between Tommy’s revival and Wilbur’s. ALL names in this story are referring to the CHARACTERS of the Dream SMP, NOT the CCs. If any ccs state that this fic makes them uncomfortable, or it crosses boundaries, it will immediately be taken down. Please be respectful in the comments. :)
Chapter 2 under the cut! :)
Tubbo was shaking with excitement.
Finally, after months and months of shoving the thought away, it was happening. They were leaving.
Tubbo rushed around his basement, grabbing as many resources as he could and shoving them into his inventory haphazardly. Not much thought went into it, if he saw something he thought he might need he’d toss it in. If he forgot anything he could just ask Ranboo for it anyways.
With his stuff packed, he headed upstairs to check on Michael quickly before leaving. The toddler was still sound asleep, clinging to his chicken plush fiercely. Tubbo gently kissed his forehead, tucking him in tightly, before making his way back to the ladder.
He locked the hatch behind him, just in case. You could never be too careful when you were married to a main character and best friends with a protagonist. He shrugged on his coat and slipped on his combat boots, exiting the house and locking the door behind him. He ran to the hyper-tunnel, tridenting through and flying out the other side.
He made his way to Tommy’s land, where he found the blond sitting on his bench and staring at the horizon.
“Tommy!” Tommy’s head shot in his direction as he yelled his name.
He ran onto the property, practically throwing himself at Tommy and head-butting his chest.
“Fuckin- Ow man, what the fuck’s gotten into you?”
Tubbo grinned up at him, springing up from the bench and flapping his hands back and forth.
“Okay, okay, okay. So. Um, basically, you know how everything’s pretty much gone to shit on this server? And how we’re like, constantly in danger of someone trying to kill us?”
Tommy raised an eyebrow.
“I’d say I’m well aware of it, yeah. Didn’t expect you to be so excited about it though. Seriously big man, I haven’t seen you this excited since the bee farm you built way back before L’Manburg.”
Tubbo faltered for a moment. This was going to be difficult.
“No, I’m not excited about that.” He took a deep breath and calmed himself down, falling back onto the bench.
“So, I’ve been thinking about it for a while, a long time, actually, and I was talking to Ranboo and he kind of just asked me why not, and now we’re doing it, so.”
Tommy laughed nervously.
“You still haven’t told me what ‘it’ is, Tubs.”
“I’m getting there. You’re just. You’re probably not gonna be too happy about it at first, but I want you to take some time and actually think about it because I do genuinely think it’s the best option for us.”
Tommy looked at him warily.
“Alright. I’ll think about whatever you say, promise.”
Tubbo nodded.
“Okay, good, so…”
He looked over to Tommy, sucked in a deep breath, and blurted it out.
“What if we left?”
Tommy froze.
He stood from the bench and made his way back towards his house, and Tubbo ran after him.
“Tommy, I know it’s scary, and weird, but honestly-“
“No.”
Tubbo froze as well.
“You promised you’d think about it.”
“Yeah, I did think about it, and now I’m fucking shaking, so sorry, Tubbo, but it’s a fucking no from me.” Tommy finally turned to look at Tubbo, and tears were pooling in his eyes.
Tubbo swallowed.
“We can’t keep living like this, Tommy. I can’t keep going week by week not knowing if my best friend, or my kid, or my husband, or myself are gonna make it to the next one.” Tubbo reached for Tommy’s hand, but the taller boy yanked it away.
“Then leave. Fuck off with your perfect little family. See if I care.” Tommy growled.
Tears threatened to spring to Tubbo’s eyes, but he held them back. Tommy didn’t mean any of this. He was scared, and he felt threatened, and he was responding with anger. Tubbo had seen him do it time and time again. This was nothing new.
Didn’t exactly make it hurt much less though.
“I’m not leaving without you. You are my family.” Tubbo reminded him gently.
Tommy practically snarled at him.
“Remember- remember what Puffy was saying? About using anger as a coping mechanism for fear? You’re doing it again, Toms.” Tubbo did his best to keep his voice from shaking.
He hated it when Tommy got like this with him. It’d happened far too many times and ended far too horribly each time. He wondered if it was his fault.
Tommy’s eyes widened for a moment, and he seemed to shake himself off, taking a deep breath before stepping backwards.
“Just- just give me a minute.” He turned and ran into his house.
Tubbo watched his retreat, and began shaking. He’d known Tommy wouldn’t take well to the idea, but he didn’t think it’d upset him this much. Was it worth it to try to convince him? Even if it would spare them both a lot of grief and suffering in the long run, he couldn’t bear to make Tommy feel that anxious.
He took a deep breath, and thought it all over again. He had wanted to leave because he wanted to feel safe. He wanted his loved ones safe. That was okay, it was good.
It was… a good option, all things considered. He knew if Wilbur were here, he’d scold him for running away from his problems. But Wilbur wasn’t here, and Tubbo wasn’t running away. He was escaping.
Tommy finally emerged from the house, looking a bit more confident with himself than he had before. He looked up at Tubbo with his hands busying themselves with his sleeves. Tubbo opened his arms, and Tommy slid into a hug.
“I know you’re not keen on the idea. And I know it’s stressful, and new, and I know you don’t like new. But please just let me explain. Because I don’t know how much longer we can go like this before something happens.” Tubbo spoke in a hushed tone.
Tommy pulled away, nodding and leading Tubbo back to the bench.
They sat down, and Tubbo took a deep breath and began.
“Okay. So, I’ve had this plan, kind of sitting in the back of my mind for a while. Wasn’t even really a plan at first, just a daydream.”
Tommy caught his eye, and nodded for him to continue.
“It must’ve been a few days after you got out of the prison. I just remember seeing you trip and fall, and god, Tommy, you looked the same way you did the day of the festival, in that goddamn pit…”
Tubbo looked away from Tommy, who reached over and grabbed his hand, holding it in his own gently.
“You were shaking like a leaf, and your breathing was all funny, and all I could think about was how none of this would’ve happened if we’d ran off that day, when we were talking about it.”
Silence hung in the air for a moment. Tommy stared out at the twilight growing sky, eyes tracing the newly revealed stars.
“Thought we’d agreed that was dumb. We still had stuff we had to do.”
“We did,” Tubbo bit his lip, “We did agree. Back then. But, I don’t know, I started letting myself think about it, and like… I just want to live. Like actually live. I don’t wanna be so scared out of my mind that I have to build fucking nukes to keep my family safe. I don’t wanna wake up every morning and not be sure if my best friend is still around until I see you.”
A tear ran down Tommy’s face, and he pulled Tubo into another tight hug.
“I can’t leave. I have so much work to do.”
Tubbo huffed, squeezing Tommy back.
“Like what?”
Tommy let his head rest on Tubbo’s shoulder, and his arms went slack against Tubbo’s back.
“I have so many people I have to apologize and make it up to. And I’ve got a reputation to fix. And I have to kill Dream.”
Tubbo pulled away, staring Tommy down.
“Ignoring that other stuff for a moment, you don’t have to kill Dream.”
Tommy frowned.
“Yeah, I do. He’s too dangerous to be left alive. If he brings Wilbur back he’s gonna hurt so many people. I don’t- I don’t wanna kill him, I don’t wanna kill anyone, but I have to, because nobody else will.” Tommy spoke it like it was a mantra he’d been taught.
Tubbo felt like he’d been taught it as well.
“But it’s not your job. It’s not your responsibility.”
“Tubbo-“
“No.” Tubbo stood from the bench.
“No, it’s not, and you’re not getting me to agree with that. Dream is fucking insane, and he’s hurt a lot of people, and you don’t have to deal with him. It’s not your responsibility to save everyone, Tommy. I know we’ve had it drilled into our heads from the moment we joined that goddamned revolution that we should aspire to be martyrs, but we shouldn’t.”
Tommy stared at him with something sad, and something akin to awe.
“We have every right to live and be safe, Tommy. We’ve done our part. We’ve fought wars we shouldn’t’ve had to. We get to be free from it all.” Tubbo paused for a moment, sitting back down.
“Dream isn’t your responsibility. Maybe he’s Sam’s, or his own, who knows. But he’s not yours. You don’t have to be the one to prevent his actions.”
Tommy breathed in shakily, and nodded.
“I hear you,” He spoke quietly, “Not sure if I quite get it yet, but. I do hear you.”
“That’s all I ask for.”
Tommy took a deep breath.
“So, you’re suggesting we just disappear into the night?”
Tubbo smiled sheepishly.
“I mean… essentially, yeah.”
“And you’ve been planning this for how long?”
“What time is it?”
“How the fuck would I know? Probably around nine or something?”
“Alright, then like… forty five minutes.”
Tommy stared at him.
Tubbo stared back.
“I’m gonna kill your husband.”
“Wha- it’s not like it’s his fault, I’m the one that brought it up-“
Tommy groaned.
“No no no, this has Ranboob written all over it. He probably made you get all nostalgic and shit and then proposed this and now we’re leaving.”
Tubbo’s ears pricked up, and a small smile wormed its way onto his face.
“So you’re coming then?”
Tommy groaned again, leaning back against the bench.
“I don’t fucking know Tubbo. You’re sure this is what you want? Like 100% sure?”
Tubbo ran a hand through his hair.
“Pretty sure it’s all I’ve wanted for a while, boss man.”
Tommy pulled his knees up to his chest.
“So you’re really okay just leaving all this behind? L’manburg, and the bench, and Snowchester?”
“Honestly? As long as I have you, Michael, and Ranboo, I couldn’t give two fucks about any of this. But… I understand if it’s harder for you.” Tubbo spoke gently, as if Tommy might startle.
Tommy hummed, and let his eyes fall on the horizon again.
“It’s weird to think about. And it makes me feel scared. Like, there’s all these places here that have so many memories, and one day we might come back and they’ll look completely different.”
Tubbo watched his friend quietly for a moment. He probably should have come prepared for a deep conversation. Tommy was having those a lot more often with him. And he was proud of Tommy, god, he was so proud of him. But it served as a bit of a reminder that things would never go back to the way they were before. There’d always be something weighing them down.
… If Tubbo got his way tonight, he hoped it would take a bit of that weight off.
“Isn’t there kind of beauty in that, though? New people will show up, and walk the same ground as us, and make new memories in the places we made ours. Someone else will sit on this bench one day and it could be the best day of their life, and they’ll watch the sunset and celebrate, just like we did, and never even know it.”
Tommy caught his eye again, a look of contemplation in his gaze.
“And like, nothing’s ever permanent, Toms. You and I of all people know that. If you decide you want to come back, I’ll come with you. It’s me and you ‘til the end, right?” Tubbo held up his arm, hand fisted, and smiled as Tommy did the same and bumped their arms together.
“Always.”
Tommy sighed.
“Guess I better get packing then, huh?”
Tubbo grinned.
“I’ll meet you at my place in, let’s say, an hour?”
“Sure big man.”
The two hugged once more, then separated. Tubbo nearly had to stop himself from skipping down the prime path.
Tommy did have a point, it was weird to think he might never walk this path again. That sickly fear of being forgotten crawled it’s way into his chest, and he decided to get rid of it as soon as possible. He’d made his mark well enough, if he said so himself.
There was an entire crater that people would tell stories of for decades that he’d had a huge part in. Couples would settle down in Snowchester years from now and see his name etched into the stone, and know him as their founder. Teenagers would dare each other to walk through a button-filled ravine and the nerds among them would tell the story of Pogtopia, of the president that went mad, and the legendary warrior, and the determined hero, and maybe, hopefully, even the crafty spy. He’d made several farms and trading posts that would be used for generations should they be upkept. And he’d never upkept them, so he didn’t see them falling into disarray the moment he left.
Tubbo had left his mark on the land. On the history of the server. Still, the tightness wouldn’t leave his throat.
He grabbed a knife from his pocket and stared at the prime path for a moment before kneeling down. In sharp, clean letters, he etched “TUBBO_BELOVED WALKED HERE.” It was simple, so utterly stupid compared to the other things he had done to mark up the server. But it made him laugh, and it made the tendrils of fear loosen from his lungs, for whatever reason. And so he decided to be proud of it.
He made his way back home and practically flung open the door, making his way to his bedroom and closet. The moon was well underway on its journey through the sky, the silver light illuminating his room through the windows. He grabbed an assortment of clothes and piled them into a backpack. Several green shirts, some hoodies, a t-shirt that definitely had belonged to Ranboo at some point, jeans. He threw in everything he could. His hand brushed on a coat, and he pushed the rest of the clothes to the side.
His presidential jacket hung neatly in the corner of his closet. That’s right, he’d stored it away before Doomsday. Hadn’t been sure when he’d need it again. He slipped it off its hanger and shrugged it on. He looked at himself in the mirror.
It still looked too big.
“Tubbo?”
Tubbo glanced to the corner of the mirror, where Ranboo now stood in his line of sight.
“Hey boss man.”
Ranboo strode up to him, and hugged him gently from behind, his elbows resting on Tubbo’s shoulders.
“You ready to get going?”
“Just about. Gotta get Michael’s stuff together still.”
“Mm.”
They stood like that for a few moments, until Ranboo gently head butted Tubbo’s head, and moved away, gently slipping the coat off of Tubbo. He put it back on its hanger and slid it back into its place in the closet.
“I vote we leave this one behind.”
Tubbo hummed, a smile making its way onto his face.
“Can't say I disagree.”
Ranboo grabbed a few more things from Tubbo’s closet and threw them to Tubbo, who caught them and folded them, placing them carefully into his bag.
“Guess you don’t like me in a suit then. I’ll make note of that.”
Ranboo froze for a moment, then flustered, slapping Tubbo gently on the back of the head. Tubbo giggled, zipping up his bag and slinging it onto his shoulder.
They made their way out into the living room, where a duffel bag already sat on the floor beside the couch. Tubbo threw his bag down next to Ranboo’s, and jumped when the duffel moved.
“Hey, Boo?” Tubbo whisper-yelled.
“Yeah?”
“Care to explain why your bag is shaking and purring?”
They stared at each other, Ranboo freezing like a deer in headlights.
“… I couldn’t just leave Enderchest.”
Tubbo laughed fondly. He knelt down and scratched the cat’s ears, which earned him a louder purr.
“Guess I understand. Cats have got to stick together after all.” Tubbo grinned.
Ranboo groaned across the room.
“Catboy, little meow meow, my meow meow catboy, little baby man.” Tubbo strode across the room, smooshing Ranboo’s cheeks with his hands.
“You are a menace to society.”
Tubbo cackled evilly, and moved one of his hands up to scratch around Ranboo’s ears, laughing again when a soft rumble came from his husband’s chest.
“This is not funny.” Ranboo could barely stop himself from purring long enough to say it.
“Mhm.” Tubbo rubbed Ranboo’s ears and the purring grew louder.
“I hate this.”
“Tell me to stop then.”
Ranboo flushed, and Tubbo laughed triumphantly, bonking his forehead with Ranboo’s and leaving him be. He made his way up to Michael’s room, followed closely by Ranboo, who held another backpack in his hands and was yet to stop purring.
They moved in tandem, grabbing and folding their toddler’s clothes and placing them in the backpack. They also brought an assortment of books and little trinkets they’d collected for Michael over the past few months. Finally, they grabbed some blankets and folded them neatly, stuffing them into the backpack and zipping it up. Ranboo swung the backpack over his shoulder and shimmied back down the ladder.
Tubbo sighed, and sat on Michael’s bed, gently carding his fingers through his son’s short mane. Ranboo came back up, and sat beside him.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this.” Tubbo mumbled, half to himself.
“Can’t believe in a bad way, or can’t believe in a good way?”
“The good way.”
Ranboo leaned against Tubbo, resting his cheek on Tubbo’s head, careful to avoid the horns.
“Should we wake him up now and get him out to a boat, or should we wait for Tommy?” Ranboo swung an arm around Tubbo’s waist lazily.
Tubbo leaned into the gesture. It was quite bizarre. Ever since his execution, physical affection had left him uneasy and anxious, but for some reason it was different with Ranboo. Maybe it was how unsure of it he’d seemed himself, or maybe that he hadn’t known Tubbo before the scars. It made Tommy jealous, Tubbo was well aware of that. But at the moment, Tommy was only just getting back to being able to handle hugs, so Tubbo wasn’t sure cuddling would do either of them any good at this point.
“Bo?”
Tubbo snapped back.
“Right, sorry, yeah, let’s uh, let’s wait for Tommy to get here. He’ll probably wake Michael up with his knocking anyway.”
Ranboo hummed amusedly, and Tubbo smiled. He glanced out the window, and watched the waves for a moment.
“You wanna go for a quick stroll before Tommy gets here?” Tubbo stood, offering Ranboo a hand up.
“Sure.”
Ranboo took it, and they made their way to the doors, Tubbo slipping on his coat as they left. They wandered around for a bit, chatting idly, reminiscing on stupid and funny moments that had happened in the little town of Snowchester. They eventually ended up on the docks, and Tubbo sat down, swinging his legs over the side. Ranboo sat beside him, his tail wrapping around towards Tubbo.
Tubbo shivered, and leaned into Ranboo, who held him.
“So this is it then. Anywhere you wanna visit before we leave? L’manhole, maybe?”
Tubbo smiled.
“Nah. I’ve said my goodbyes to that place. I’m all good to go.”
Ranboo laughed quietly.
“Not to question you, but for someone who spent several nights awake making layouts for his builds, you don’t seem all too sad about leaving them.”
“Well, I mean, yeah. It kinda sucks, but at their core, they’re just builds. I’ll think back on them one day and cringe at how I styled them. You and Michael and Tommy being safe is far more important than whatever project I’m focused on at the minute.” Tubbo said quietly.
Ranboo hummed.
“And you know you’re the same for me, right? You’re always gonna be one of my top priorities.”
It felt a little uncomfortable to hear, but Tubbo knew that was just his messed up brain doing its messed up little thing. And so, pushing down the feeling of twisting in his stomach, he leaned closer to Ranboo.
“Thanks, boss man. I’m glad.”
They sat for a moment in silence, listening to the waves lap at the sides of the docks. Tubbo checked his communicator for the time. Tommy should be getting here soon. Thank god, he was getting a bit anxious to actually get on the road. He was, of course, still grateful that the universe had decided to give them a moment of peace before the inescapable chaos that would be travelling a long distance with a toddler and Tommy- so, basically two toddlers- for several days. Hell, maybe even several weeks.
So, of course, Ranboo had to ruin the peace.
“You’re actually talking about your feelings. A big win for the Tubbo_Beloved community.”
Tubbo huffed out a laugh, gently slapping Ranboo’s chest.
“Oh, shut up.”
Ranboo giggled, his tail wagging happily and hitting the stone.
“OI TUBBO! BOOB BOY! I’M HERE!”
Tubbo let out a sigh and turned to see Tommy standing on his porch, waving his arms around like a madman. Ranboo laughed, bonking their foreheads together. Tubbo groaned, letting his head fall onto Ranboo’s chest for a minute.
“Ready to spend several days on end with the one and only Tommyinnit?” Ranboo’s voice was light, lighter than he’d heard it in a while.
Tubbo smiled.
“Gods help our souls.”
Ranboo laughed, loud and clear, and Tubbo grinned. He pulled back, and Ranboo stood, helping Tubbo up as well. They made their way back to the cabin, Tommy tapping his foot impatiently like a cartoon character. Tubbo walked up the steps and made eye contact with Tommy, asking a silent question.
Are you okay?
Yes.
Are you sure you wanna do this?
Yeah, I’m good.
Tommy swung an arm around Tubbo’s neck, pulling him in quickly for a side-hug, then relaxing and dragging him inside.
“Your gremlin’s awake by the way. Couldn’t handle the might and power of the great Tommyinnit.” Tommy grinned as he tossed his bag next to Tubbo’s beside the couch.
Tubbo rolled his eyes, and motioned for Ranboo to go get Michael with a nod. Ranboo laughed quietly, and went upstairs. Tommy released Tubbo from his hold, and plopped down beside the bags, petting Enderchest, who seemed somewhat apprehensive of the new person.
“So did you say goodbye to everything?” Tommy scratched behind Enderchest’s ears and the cat immediately warmed up to him.
“Nah. I’ve made my peace with this place. Just waiting to leave now.” Tubbo sat down beside him, taking a few locks of Tommy’s hair and beginning to twist them into a braid.
“Saw your message on the Prime Path.”
“Yeah?”
“Made one beside it. Now it says ‘TUBBO_BELOVED and BIG MAN TOMMYINNIT WALKED HERE.’”
“Pffft- I’m glad, now everyone will know the true owners of the Prime Path for generations to come.” Tubbo tied the braid together loosely, then sat back.
“Fuck yeah they will. Big Man Tommy’s legacy is going nowhere.”
Tubbo laughed, and Tommy smiled gently.
Tubbo’s ear flicked as the hatch to Michael’s room opened, and he looked over to see Ranboo carrying a very sleepy Michael down the ladder. The toddler was wrapped in his favourite blanket, one he’d been given by Foolish, and was clutching his chicken plush against his chest with one hand. His other hand gripped Ranboo’s shirt, rumpling the thin fabric, and not assisting in keeping the toddler in Ranboo’s arms in any way, shape, or form. Tubbo stood, making his way over and taking Michael from Ranboo’s arms. Michael gently headbutted his chest, and Tubbo did the same to Michael’s forehead.
“Did you tell him what’s happening yet?” Tubbo asked as Ranboo made his way down the ladder.
“Not yet, figured we should tell him together.”  
“Mm. Fairs. Mikey?”
Michael gazed up at his dads sleepily. Tubbo’s heart clenched at the sight.
“You awake there, buddy?” Ranboo asked, running a hand through the toddler’s mane.
Michael grunted and hid his face in Tubbo’s shoulder, causing a soft laugh from Ranboo. Tommy snorted from across the room.
“Can we talk for a minute Michael?” Tubbo placed a kiss on his son’s forehead, and Michael looked up at him, then Ranboo, and nodded.
“Alright.” Tubbo carried Michael over to where Tommy sat, and returned to his place on the floor with Michael in his lap.
Michael’s eyes shot open when he saw Tommy, his mouth gaping in surprise. He squirmed out of Tubbo’s grasp and walked right up to Tommy, placing his tiny, hoof-like hands on Tommy’s cheeks.
“Mimi.” Michael stated with a seriousness that bordered that of a commander’s.
Tubbo burst out laughing, and as Ranboo slid onto the floor beside him, he could feel his husband shaking trying to hold his own laughter back. Tommy sighed dramatically, but smiled.
“Yes, it is me, your saviour, Mimi. I’ve arrived to make sure those two don’t bore you to death.” Tommy nodded in Tubbo and Ranboo’s direction.
Well, he tried to. He did what he could with toddler hands holding his head in place. Michael followed his gaze, and looked between his dads like he was contemplating something very important. He looked back to Tommy and nodded. Tubbo gasped.
“Have we been betrayed?” Tubbo looked back at Ranboo, who grinned.
“I think so, I think so.”
“We’ve been betrayed by our only heir. Oh woe is me.” Tubbo fell back dramatically into Ranboo’s arms, and Michael giggled.
Tubbo reached his arms out in Michael’s direction, and Michael waddled back over to him, sitting squarely in his lap, and looking up at him expectedly.
“Alright. Serious talk time,” Tubbo squeezed his son, and Ranboo nodded in agreement, “I’m gonna tell you straight up, because I know you’re a big kid and you’re gonna be okay. But it’s okay if you feel upset at what I tell you, okay?”
“You’re allowed to feel however you do, I promise your Bee and I won’t ever get mad at you for that, alright?” Ranboo gently squeezed Tubbo’s shoulder as he spoke.
Michael looked between the two quizzically, and then looked back down at his lap. After a moment, he looked back up, and nodded seriously.
“Alright. So, we’re going to be moving houses, and it’s probably gonna be really far away.”
“And we probably won’t be back for a very long time.” Ranboo added.
Michael’s eyebrows furrowed, and Tubbo would have cooed if he wasn’t worried that Michael was upset. The toddler jutted his thumb out in the direction of the mansion, and Tubbo is quite proud of himself, because he at least had the decency to look sheepish at it. Tommy had to suppress a laugh, hiding it behind a cough. Tubbo glared at him. Ranboo snorted from behind him.
“No, Mikey, we’re gonna travel for a while and then build a new house, far away from here.”
Michael frowned, and took his chicken plush back in his hands, placing it in his lap. He squeezed it gently a couple times as Tubbo ran his hand through the toddler’s mane. Michael eventually looked back up at him, and signed something that Tubbo recognized as “Mimi come?”
“Yeah, bud, Mimi’s coming too.” Ranboo smiled patiently.
Michael squeezed his chicken plush again, then stood, pointing to the ladder.
“You need back up, Mikey? What’s up?” Tubbo asked.
“Need clothes and books and toys.”
“Oh, we’ve already got your stuff packed! Come look!” Ranboo reached around Tubbo and grabbed Michael’s backpack, a yellow one with a bee embroidered on the front.
Ranboo unzipped it, and Michael ran back over, gripping the backpack and looking inside. Ranboo helped him push the blankets aside, and Michael looked at all the clothes and toys they’d packed. He tapped his chin, and Tubbo had to hold back another laugh, because where had he even learned that from? After a couple moments, Michael zipped up the bag himself, and nodded firmly at Ranboo.
“You’re ready to go?” Tubbo asked.
Michael reached for his chicken plush, and Tubbo handed it to him. The toddler nodded.
“Alright. Are you feeling okay about it?” Ranboo placed the backpack beside the other bags as he spoke.
Michael frowned again.
“I don’t know.”
“That’s alright, bud. Do you feel sad?”
Michael shook his head almost immediately.
“Do you feel angry?”
“…No.”
Tubbo watched the interaction with a certain fondness. Ranboo was always so careful with explaining emotions to Michael, and trying to help Michael understand his own. It was sweet to watch.
Tommy obviously didn’t share the same sentiment. He didn’t say anything, but Tubbo noticed his fingers drumming anxiously against the floorboards. His other hand pet Enderchest with a fervour that the cat probably didn’t appreciate. Tubbo would have to thank him later for being so patient with Michael. Or, at least trying to.
“Do you feel nervous?”
Michael stopped for a minute, clutching his chicken close to his chest and mulling it over. Eventually he nodded, and Ranboo smiled gently, the way he always did when he spoke to Michael.
“That’s okay. Your Bee and I are gonna be right beside you the entire time, okay? And if you’re ever feeling nervous, you can tell one of us, and we’ll try to help. Is that okay?”
Michael nodded, and opened his arms for a hug, his chicken falling into Ranboo’s lap. Ranboo pulled him into a hug, not letting go until Michael did. The toddler then turned to Tubbo and did the same. Tubbo held him close to his chest, rocking them from side to side gently. Michael pulled away, and Tubbo did too, gently bonking their foreheads together before completely pulling away.
“You’re very brave, Michael. It’s not easy to do things you’re nervous about. We’re proud of you.” Tubbo ruffled the kid’s mane as Michael grinned.
“Alright. We’re gonna leave now, and you can sleep on the way, okay?”
Michael smiled and nodded, grabbing his blanket from Tubbo’s lap and wrapping it around himself haphazardly. Tubbo stood, followed by Ranboo, who picked up Michael and carried him over to the door. Tommy scratched Enderchest’s chin, then gently zipped up the duffel a bit more. He stood, grabbing his own bag and slinging it over his shoulder.
Tubbo grabbed his backpack and did the same as Ranboo buttoned Michael into his coat. Tubbo grabbed Michael’s hat and slid it on the toddler’s head before helping him with his boots. Tubbo slid on his own boots, tying them tightly. Ranboo grabbed Michael’s backpack, slinging it over his shoulder, then grabbed his duffel bag carefully. Tubbo picked Michael up, and they left the house.
They made it to the front yard, and Tubbo turned around one last time.
“You wanna say bye to the house, Michael?” He murmured.
“Bye bye house.” Michael’s words slurred together with tiredness, and Tubbo awed quietly.
He turned and began to walk away, but Michael grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled it gently, just enough to sting.
“Ow- what the-“ Tubbo took a deep breath, “What’s up, Michael?”
Michael pointed at the house.
“Picture.”
Ah. Of course. Ranboo had shown him their camera a few days ago, and the toddler had loved it. Of course he’d want a picture of the house. Tubbo turned to look at Ranboo, who shrugged, then slid Michael’s backpack off and grabbed a camera from inside. Tubbo sighed. One more quick detour wouldn’t hurt.
“Alright. Let’s go stand by the door.” He carried the toddler back up the front steps, and turned to face Ranboo and Tommy.
Ranboo readied the camera, before being slapped gently in the back of the head by Tommy. He looked back at Tommy with confusion, and Tommy rolled his eyes.
“Go stand with your family, dumbass.” Tommy held his hand open for the camera, looking everywhere but at Ranboo.
Tubbo laughed to himself as Ranboo visibly softened, handing Tommy the camera and making his way up the steps. He stood behind Tubbo, gently placing a hand on Tubbo’s shoulder.
They smiled, and the camera flashed a few times. Tommy pulled back, inspecting the photos for a minute, then gave them the thumbs up. They walked back over, and Michael poked Tommy, pointing at the camera.
“There you go. These pictures up to your standards Big M?” Tommy asked, showing them the camera.
Michael looked at the pictures, then nodded seriously.
“Good, wouldn’t want to disappoint.” Tommy ruffled Michael’s mane, then handed Ranboo the camera.
Ranboo carefully slid it back into Michael’s bag, and the four made their way to the docks.
Two boats were already tied to the docking points, and Ranboo must have set them up when Tubbo wasn’t looking, because Tubbo definitely hadn’t. Ranboo carefully made his way down the ladder and into the first boat, standing with his feet wide. Tubbo bit his lip.
This probably wouldn’t be a fun time for Ranboo, he wasn’t exactly great around water, for good reason. With any luck, they’d only need to travel by boat for a few hours, then they would find land and borrow (read: steal) some horses and travel horseback from there.
Ranboo gently placed his duffel bag in the bottom of the boat, sliding off Michael’s backpack and placing it beside the duffel. He then reached up towards Tubbo, and Tubbo carefully handed him Michael. The moment Tubbo let go, Ranboo sat down, clearly not trusting himself enough to hold their kid above water.
Tommy made his way into the second boat, tossing his bag on the floor as well. Tubbo climbed into Ranboo’s boat, but passed his backpack to Tommy, who put it beside his own. Tubbo sat down, then reached for Michael again. Ranboo handed the toddler over, then stood, untying the boat from the dock. Tommy did the same in the boat next to them.
Michael made himself comfortable in Tubbo’s lap, and, almost instantly, fell back asleep. Tubbo laughed gently and looked up to Ranboo, who was watching them with a look of fondness clear on his face.
“Alright, you guys can make doe eyes at each other once we get there, c’mon.” Tommy grinned as Ranboo spluttered, then began rowing.
Ranboo huffed, but followed suit. They began travelling Northeast.
“Our arms are gonna hurt so bad tomorrow.” Tommy stated tiredly.
“Worth it.” Ranboo smiled.
And they were off.
They’d done it. They’d escaped.
5 notes · View notes
miracle-sham · 5 years ago
Text
Plan D for Dicey.
| {MaribatMarch2020 – Week 1, Day 6: Unconventional Weapon} |
| [Ao3 Link] | | [Masterlist Link] |
| Triggers/Warnings: D&D typical Violence, kidnapping/imprisoning of Player Characters, Explicit Language/Swearing, (Also not so much a Trigger/Warning but this a gen/platonic fic). |
| The Wayne (bat)family attempt to play their first streamed session of Warriors and Warlocks. Unpredictably, things go surprisingly well. |
| Word Count: 4323 |
==–==
| A/N: So firstly, I got really carried away writing this so it's being posted a day late. Sorry! But fun fact, this means I'm posting this on my birthday, so wooh! Also if you can't tell yet, I'm a massive D&D geek (been playing for roughly five years now but I still fell like a complete noob whenever I play or DM :P). And DC has its own version of D&D (W&W/Warriors and Warlocks) and upon reading Day 6's prompt, my immediate thought was the improvised weapons mechanic from D&D. Also also, I originally intended for this fic to be MariTim (hence the tags) but I got caught up in all the platonic fun of the family playing D&D I kinda forgot to write in the shippy bits? |
| A/N cont.: Writing this was actually a massive challenge because at the start of this I had absolutely zero idea on how to write a D&D session as a ficlet. So this might be a bit more clunky and unrefined compared to my normal work (or that could just be my self-doubt talking). As I mentioned earlier, I got really carried away writing this because I love D&D so much. I would have written more but this ficlet is long enough and late enough as is. But if I were to continue this ficlet in additional parts, I definitely can already think of so many ways to improve writing this sort of fic (and maybe next time I won't forget to add in shippy stuff). Anyway, thanks to those who read these A/Ns, and I hope you guys enjoy reading this! |
| If you want to be tagged in future oneshots/fics, or a specific Au, then comment or send me a DM/ask! |
| Also side note, Don't Like? Don't Read. Also also, please do not criticise any of my writing. This was written for fun and receiving criticism, even in a compliment/criticism sandwich, is the exact opposite of fun. |
==–==
Marinette, with Tikki on her shoulder, bursts into the Wayne Manor games room, barely able to contain her excitement. As the first in the room, she can't help but glance across the square conference U-table already set up with everyone's character sheets, dice equipment, other equipment, and snacks and drinks. Bounding over to her designated seat (right side, place nearest to the DM's section of the table), she pulls her chair out and sits down.
 The rest of the Wayne (bat)family, including Steph but sans Alfred and Barbara, slowly filter into the room and take their designated seats. Jason takes his seat next to Marinette whilst Dick takes the seat directly opposite. Steph nabs the seat beside Jason, Damian stakes a claim to the seat next to Dick (despite it already being his designated seat), Cass sits down in the seat beside Steph, leaving Bruce to take his seat next to Damian.
 Tim's the last of the family to enter. He slips into his seat, the DM's seat—as he is the most experienced Warriors and Warlocks player at the table—and grins downright ferally at his players.
 He looks up at the cameras and recording equipment that is set up in the middle of the open space in the square U-table. “Hello and welcome to Plan D for Dicey, the first-ever Wayne Family Warriors and Warlocks fifth edition stream. We weren't quite expecting so many people to petition that we stream our sessions after a few people—” Tim fake coughs twice, “—Dick and Marinette—” Tim fake coughs twice again (whilst Marinette and Dick both grin and wave cheerfully at the cameras), “—rambled about their characters and some highlights from previous sessions, on Twitter. So we decided to give this a go and see how the session pans out whilst being streamed. So as a word of warning, prepare yourselves for the Venators, probably one of the most dysfunctional parties in W&W to miraculously band together.”
 As soon as he says this, the rest of the table burst into grins and cheers (excluding Bruce who despite also smiling, looks like he's just aged five years). Marinette's side of the table all high five each other in their excitement.
 Tim pauses for a second. “For anyone unfamiliar with who I am, I'm Tim. And as you can probably tell from the table set up, I'm the Dungeon Master for this campaign. That's because I've been playing W&W for just over five years now and have had experience DMing before. But for the rest of the players here, this is their first campaign and by extension first time playing. So before we begin our session, first let us introduce our players and their characters.” He nods to Marinette's side of the table.
 She immediately slaps her hands on the table, pushes her chair out and stands, she waves at the cameras again. “Hi, I'm Marinette and my character is Nella Septa-Punctata. She's a Protector Aasimar Celestial Pact of the Chain Warlock, and she has a Sprite Familiar called Tikki. Nella's Chaotic Good and a little anxious but she tries her best to be a kind and heroic adventurer.” She then sits back down, scraping her chair back in again.
 Jason raises an eye at Marinette's antics but shrugs. “I'm Jay, I play a Winged Variant Feral Tiefling Gunslinger called Rehodros. He's Chaotic Neutral, verging on Chaotic Evil at times, and he only joined the Venators because they helped save him from backstory related stuff and he ended up getting reluctantly attached to them.”
 Deciding to also stand up from her chair as well as slap the table with both hands, Steph smirks at the cameras. “I'm Stephanie, my character's Speilsol Leyer, and she's a Chaotic Good Variant Human Ancestral Guardian Barbarian with the Tavern Brawler Feat. She lives for beating up bad guys and doing good, even if it goes against the law.”
 Cass decides to take things one step further and moves to sit on the back of the chair, balancing it carefully as to not let herself fall. She waves at the cameras. “Hi, I Cass. Play Balabitara. Neutral Good, Kalashtar Shadow Monk.” She then sits back down on the chair normally.
 With one half of the table introduced, Tim nods towards the other side of the table.
 Dick winks at the cameras, “I'm Dick and I play Niriwyse, a Chaotic Good Eladrin Glamour Bard who's along for the ride and just wants to have a good time.” At that, he wiggles his eyebrows.
 Scoffing, Damian glares at the cameras. “I am Damian and my character is Rokian. He is a Firbolg Circle of the Shepherd Druid and is Lawful Neutral in the sense that he believes the only laws that should be obeyed in the world, are that or the laws of nature. He begrudgingly joined this party of adventurers after they saved an animal friend of his.”
 This leaves Bruce as the only one to have not introduced himself and his character yet. He smiles his Brucie Wayne smile at the cameras. “My name's Brucie and my character is called Chirop. He's a Chaotic Good Bugbear Swashbuckler Rogue. He comes across as very gruff, but he's just a big old teddy bear at heart.”
 Tim coughs under his breath. “Alright, with our introductions over, let's get on with the show.” The lights in the room suddenly dim and turn a dark red shade whilst creepy echoing organ music begins to play from hidden speakers. “Last session, our brave party of seven adventurers were captured by the evil Lich Dreldaz whilst trying to rescue the beautiful princess Theophania—”
 “—Timothea!” Corrects the rest of the table.
 Rolling his eyes, Tim continues. “—from the cursed castle in which she has been trapped in, by Dreldaz.” He pauses, steepling his fingers as the dim red lighting becomes a dark grey shade. “The Venators awaken, only to find themselves shackled to the walls, in individual stone brick cells and stripped of any and all equipment bar the clothes on their backs. From what you all can immediately tell upon waking, these cells are small, cold, dark and dingy. What do you do?”
 The seven players all exchange glances between themselves.
 “I'd like to look around my cell, see if I can find anything or if I can get an idea of what the cellblock we're in looks like?” Jason announces after a few seconds.
 Tim nods. “Roll a perception check, please.”
 Jason narrows his eyes Tim. He reaches towards the red and black dice set beside his character sheet and picks up the D20. He shakes the dice in his hands before rolling it into the dice box. It lands on a 7. “Alright so because I don't have my gear any more, that means I don't have my eyes of the eagle right?”
 “That's right,” Tim responds.
 “Mmk, that's a seven then, plus my perception modifier… Fourteen total.” Jason glances up at Tim once he finishes calculating.
 Humming, Tim glances down at his Mysterious™ DM notes. “With your Darkvision, you manage to make out that there are two small barred windows on the walls adjacent to the wall with the cell door. The door luckily has a barred window in it too, but you're too far away to glean anything from peering at it.”
 Marinette purses her lips and double-checks her character sheet. “Is there anything magical about the darkness in these cells?”
 “Roll an Arcana check to see.” Is Tim's response.
 She reaches over to the pink and gold dice set beside her character sheet and picks up the D20. She shakes the dice in her hands before rolling it into the dice box. The D20 lands on a 16. “Sixteen! Wait, plus my arcana modifier, uh…” She scans her sheet for the relevant modifier, “plus six, so that's uh… oh heck maths, uhh I think that's twenty-two total? Yeah.” She nods to herself at calculating the maths.
 Jason snorts and addresses the cameras. “This is why you should stay in school kids!”
 Huffing, Marinette elbows him in the side. “Fight me!”
 Not evening flinching at the elbowing, Jason pats her on the top of her head. “Friendly fire, Mari! Friendly fire!”
 Tim waits for silence with his best poker face on. “As far as you can tell, there is nothing magical about the darkness!”
 “Really?” She furrows her brows. “Alright then.”
 He smiles in response.
 Dick glances down at his character sheet then up at Tim, he taps his fingers against the table idly as he speaks. “The walls of the cells are stone? So I can use my Cli Lyre to cast Stone Shape and create a hole in the stone where the metal shackles connect, which would free me, right!”
 Clicking his tongue, Tim shakes his head. “Nope, you don't have your Cli Lyre on you right now, so you can't cast any spells from it.”
Cursing under his breath, Dick frantically scans his character sheet for anything. He reaches his spells and freezes and slaps the spell sheet (and by extension, the table). “Ah hah!” He crows, “I will cast Knock on the shackles!”
 Tim raises an eyebrow, then looks down to flip through his spell cheat sheet. “When you cast the spell, it makes a loud knock that's audible for up to three hundred feet. Are you sure you want to cast this?”
 Dick falters and furrows his brow, then glances around the table at the rest of the party. “I think I'll wait and see if anyone else has a way to escape this first? Wait we can all hear each other speaking from our cells, right?”
 “You can indeed.” Tim answers.
 “I got nothin',” Jason admits, putting on his Rehodros voice, which is just his normal voice but deeper and with a raspy—almost hissing—clipped tone.
 Steph, using her Speilsol Leyer voice (which sounds like she's putting on a weak German accent), shrugs. “I could try breaking the shackles? I'm strong enough to do cool things like that?”
  “But that will also be fairly loud.” Bruce points out, speaking with a gruff tone of voice (which is significantly different from his gravelly Batman tone of voice) for Chirop. “If I had my lockpicks, it would be easy to escape stealthily. But without them, I can't see a way for me to get out of these shackles.”
 Damian wrinkles his nose. “I might be able to summon creatures, elementals, or fey but what I get is determined by the DM and may not be entirely helpful. However, I could try wildshaping?”
 Tim smiles cryptically and the lighting behind him changes from dark grey to lime green. “You could.”
 Damian nods. “Alright then, I will use my wildshape ability to transform into a spider.”
The lime green light fades to flickering orange-red light. “As you try to use your druidic abilities to magically assume the shape of a spider, you feel a burning sensation around your wrists, right where the shackles are. You are unable to transform and take…” Tim pauses as he pulls out his black and red dragon dice and rolls a D6 behind the DM screen. “Five points of fire damage.”
 Cursing under his breath in Arabic, Damian glares at Tim. He crosses out his current hp and writes down the new amount.
 Jason taps Marinette on the shoulder. “What about Nells, Mari? She got any tricks up her sleeve to escape?”
 Marinette startles at that, having been chewing her lip and staring intently at her character sheet since her arcana check. She licks her lips then glances up. “I might…”
 She taps a small stat block card with a pencil and turns to Tim with an intense stare. “Is Tikki nearby?”
 At that, Tim grins widely and raises a finger. “That,” He says, flipping through his notes, “is a very good question.”
 “Because on my notes, here it says that last session Tikki was invisible when we all got captured.” Marinette picks up her session notes journal and shows it to him.
 “Would you say Tikki followed after you when you got caught?”
 Marinette tilts her head to the side and Tikki whispers in her ear. Of course, the cameras inability to record kwamis means it just looks like she's thinking instead of listening to a flying red bug deity. “Yep, I would say that. I would also like to telepathically communicate with Tikki and ask if she can come and pick the locks because we gave her a spare Thieves' Tools kit last shopping session in case she needed to pick the locks during an invisible scouting mission!”
 “Indeed you did, so Tikki flies over to your cell and will try to pick the locks on your door first. So roll a d20 and add Tikki's Dex bonus.” He instructs.
 Marinette nods and picks up the dice, cupping her hands underneath it so Tikki can shake then roll it without it looking suspicious on camera. Tikki shakes the dice and drops it as Marinette separates her hands. The dice lands in the box and rolls a 16. “Plus Tikki's Dex mod, that's uh…” She scrambles for the Sprite Familiar statblock card, “Plus four, so dirty twenty!”
 “That's enough to pick the lock. Do you want Tikki to enter the cell and try to pick the lock?” He asks.
 She nods and repeats the roll with Tikki, this time rolling an eleven. “With mods, fifteen.” Tikki then returns to her place on Marinette's shoulder.
 “Tikki barely manages to get the locks open. The shackles open and you land on the cell floor.”
 Marinette punches the air. “Wooh! Freedom!”
 Cass then waves her hand in the air. “Shadowstep out?”
 Tim cocks his head to the side. “As you don't have Darkvision, you can't see outside your cell but you manage to use your shadowstep ability to escape the shackles. Then by peering out the barred window in the door, you manage to shadow step into the cellblock corridor.”
 Marinette and Cass share a high-five.
 “Let's go free everyone else!”
==–==
 It takes them ten minutes to finish freeing everyone else, and start making their way out of the dungeon cell block. The Venators now make their way through the bowels of the castle, searching for the armoury in which all their belongings have been stored.
 “As you push open the grand oak doors, the faint scent of sickly sweet rotting food and fire hits your noses. The doors reveal the next room to be a grand dining room with a long oak table, set as though prepared for a grand feast expecting many a guest. It's adequately lit but the two corners of the room above the door seem to glow with a dim greenish glow.” Tim pauses in his description as lighting changing to a dim greenish light behind him; he rolls a D8 four times (6, 7, 2, 4), behind the DM screen, followed by the rolling of a D20 four times (3, 19, 13, 18).
 “Oh god…” Dick mutters, 
 Jason huffs. “What are you going to torture us with now, oh great DM?”
 Tim smiles cruelly. “Four rays of fire are shot towards the party from somewhere within the dining room. First attack is an eight versus Chirop's AC?”
 Bruce sighs in relief. “That's a miss.”
 Tim continues to smile. “Mmk, the rest of the attacks are, twenty-four versus Balabitara's AC, eighteen versus Niriwyse's AC, and twenty-three verses Rokian's AC. I assume those hit.”
 Damian narrows his eyes at Tim, whilst Dick winces and Cass pouts.
 Tim rolls a D6 nine times, behind the DM screen. “Balabitara takes four points of fire damage, Niriwyse and Rokian both take eight points of fire damage.”
 The three all jot down the damage taken.
 Still smiling, like the truly evil DM that he is, Tim clasps his hands together. “Two skulls, enveloped with green flames, descend from the ceiling. One hovers over the grand table and the other hovers but the top of the opened doors, giving itself cover.” He pauses, then grins. “With the surprise round over, everyone roll initiative!”
 Out of habit, all seven players, and Tikki, roll their D20s in almost perfect sync. Dick rolls an 18, Cass rolls a 9, Jason rolls a 14, Bruce rolls a 16, Steph rolls a 17 with advantage, Damian rolls a 2, Marinette rolls a 10, and Tikki rolls a 14.
 “Twenty or above?” Tim asks.
 “Twenty three,” Bruce announces.
 Jason rolls his eyes. “Twenty-one.”
 Dick grins, “Twenty one as well!”
 Tim scribbles down the rolls on the initiative table. “D'awww, you both rolled twenty-one. Anyway, fifteen or above?”
 “Tikki rolled an eighteen.” Informs Marinette.
 “I got nineteen!” Steph exclaims.
 Jotting down those rolls as well, Tim asks “Alright, anyone ten or above?”
 Cass signs her roll, ‘fourteen.’
 “Thirteen.” Marinette answers.
 Tim glances at the initiative table, then at Damian. “And you Damian?”
 Damian scoffs. “Three.”
 “Okay.” Tim then rolls a D20 twice. “Chirop! You're up first!”
 Bruce looks slightly bewildered. He clears his throat. “Can I grab the nearest sharp pieces of cutlery and sneak behind a chair?”
 Tim nods. “Roll stealth.”
 He rolls an 18. “My stealth modifier is plus thirteen, so thirty-one to stealth.”
 Tim whistles, “To the rest of the Venators, it looks like Chirop just vanishes into thin air.”
“Are any of the enemies close enough that I could move into melee range?” He questions.
 “There's one floating Flameskull hovering five foot in the air, with your Long-Limbed trait, it's well within reach,” Tim informs.
 Bruce narrows his eyes. “I would like to stab the Flameskull with the sharp cutlery, knives are preferable.”
 “Roll to hit. As knives are close enough to daggers, I'll say you can get away with adding your proficiency bonus as well.”
 Bruce rolls, with advantage, a 19. “Plus my modifiers, that's twenty-eight to hit.”
 “That hits.”
 Bruce rolls for damage, 2. “That's two, so seven.” He then rolls for Surprise damage, 8 (5, 3), and Sneak Attack damage, 24 (6, 2, 5, 6, 5). “That's a total of 39 piercing damage. Then I'll use my bonus action to stab it again,” He rolls a 16, “Twenty-one to hit.”
  Tim puts on his best poker face. “That also hits.”
 “Then that'll be…” He rolls a 1. “One damage from the second attack.”
“The Flameskull you hit screeches in fury as it crumbles to bone dust.” Tim then proceeds to make a horrific screeching sound, for immersion of course.
 “What the fuck, Timbo?” Jason asks, wincing.
  Dick cringes. “At least you aren't right beside him! My poor ears!”
 “Rip us closest seats.” Mumbles Marinette, wrinkling her nose.
“Rehodros, you're up next!” Tim announces gleefully, ignoring his suffering players.
 Jason narrows his eyes at Tim, “I want to run over to the table, grab any food on the table that's not rotten, and yeet it at the nearest Flameskull.”
 Tim hums, “Okay, the only non-rotten food you can find, is a block of aged cheese and a bowl of hardened sugar cubes.
 Snorting, Jason cracks his knuckles. “Oh, I have to pick the block of aged cheese.”
 “Roll your attack then. But make sure you only add your Dex modifier to the attack as you're not proficient in improvised weaponry.”
 Jason rolls to attack and also gets a 19. “Twenty four to hit.”
 Tim snorts. “Yeah, that definitely hits, go ahead and roll damage.”
 Jason nods and rolls a 1D4, managing to get max damage. “Four! Wooh! Plus my Dex mod, that's nine damage!”
 “You lob the cheese at the Flameskull, managing to cause a couple of cracks to form on its skull. It turns it's furious gaze to you, intending to intimidate you but the effect is somewhat hindered by the melting cheese covering half of its skull.” Tim flips through his notes and marks down the damage taken.
 “Okay, then I want to grab the bowl of sugar and using my extra attack to throw that at the Flameskull, in the jaw.” Jason smirks and switches to his Rehodros voice, “You look like you've got a sssweet tooth, bonehead!” He rolls to attack and gets a 12. “Seventeen to hit?”
 “That will hit.”
 Jason rolls a 3 on the D4. “That's eight damage total.”
“As the bowl of sugar starts to melt from the heat of the fire, the sickly sweet scent of hot sugar begins to emanate from the Flameskull. The Flameskull does not look happy.” Tim pauses to glance at the initiative table. “Niriwyse! You're up.”
 Dick glances down at his spell list and beams. “I'm going to cast Vicious Mockery. And say,” he puts on his Niriwyse voice, which is just his voice but higher pitch and with a British Estuary accent, “Green is so not your colour!”
 Tim hums, then flips through his notes. “What's the spell Save DC on that again?”
 Quickly checking his spell sheet, Dick answers, “DC 16.”
 “Mmk,” Tim responds non-committally, before rolling a D20 twice from behind the DM screen. “That, unfortunately for you, is a nat 20. Which means it takes no damage and suffers no disadvantage. The Flameskull turns to you briefly, to cackle in your face, before turning its attention back to Rehodros.”
  Dick frowns. “Aww that failed, welp I'll use my bonus action to give Speilsol Leyer inspiration.” He clears his throat and puts on his Niriwyse voice to sing. “Let's get down to business! To defeat, this skull! Did they order heroes, no they asked for none! We're the saddest party you'll ever meet! But you can bet before we're through, Flameskull, we'll make dust out of you!”
 The rest of the table burst into cheers and groans.
 “Beautiful, Speilsol Leyer, you get 1D10 bardic inspiration,” Tim confirms. “And now it's your turn. Show the audience what you've got.”
 Steph giggles. “Okay, okay, I've got a really dumb idea.”
 Tim raises an eyebrow at her.
 “So, firstly, is there anything on the walls, like paintings? Wall sconces? Y'know.” She asks.
 “There's a painting of a naked elven lady on one wall, and a taxidermied fox head on the other,” Tim informs.
 Steph bounces in her seat. “Cool! So I'm gonna rage! Rip the taxidermied fox head off the wall, then run and leap up into the air to bludgeon the Flameskull with the fox head!”
 “Right. Make an athletics roll.”
 Rolling a D20, she gets 13. “Twenty one!”
 “You manage to jump into the air with expert grace. Roll to hit.”
 She rolls a 16. “That's a twenty-four to hit because I've got the Tavern Brawler Feat so I've got proficiency with improvised and-slash-or unconventional weapons!”
 He snorts. “That'll definitely hit, roll damage.”
 Steph picks up her D4 and rolls it, getting a 3. “Do with my strength modifier and Rage damage, that's ten damage! And uh, that's the end of my turn!”
 Tim scribbles down the damage taken, he then checks his notes quickly. “The sugary cheese-covered Flameskull starts to cackle madly. It casts fireball on the party, everyone make dexterity saving throws.”
 On cue, everyone in the party rolls their D20s. Tikki rolls an 18, Damian and Marinette both roll 16s, and Dick rolls a 4.
 Before Bruce rolls his dice, he proclaims, “I'd like to use evasion!” He then rolls and gets a 5. “Fourteen total.”
 “Evasion too!” Cass declares with a smile, she rolls her D20, getting 18. She then signs her result, ‘twenty-seven
 “Shit!” Jason mutters, staring at his roll of 2.
 “Nat one?” Tim questions.
 Jason shakes his head. “Natural two, so seven total.”
 “I also got seven,” Dick adds.
 “Seventeen,” Damian announces.
 “I rolled a nineteen and Tikki rolled a twenty-two.” Marinette pipes up.
 Steph frowns at her roll of nine. “Eleven…” She glances at her character sheet again. “Wait, no! I get advantage on dexterity saving throws!” She shakes the dice in her hands and blows on it for good luck, then rolls it into the dice box. It lands on an 18. Fist pumping the air, she cheers. “Yes! Dirty twenty, fuck yeah!”
 “Alright. Niriwyse and Rehodros both take…” Tim rolls a D6 eight times, behind the DM screen. “Twenty-three fire damage. And everyone else except Chirop and Balabitara take half that, so eleven damage. And of course, Chirop and Balabitara take no damage whatsoever.”
 “Wooh,” Bruce cheers.
 “Wait a second!” Jason interrupts, triple-checking his character sheet, “I've got fire resistance!”
 “Then you also take eleven damage instead of the full twenty-three.” Tim corrects. “And that's the end of the Flameskull's turn. Tikki's up now.”
 Marinette tilts her head to the side as Tikki whispers in her again. “Tikki is going to hold her turn.”
 Tim nods. “Okay then, it's Balabitara's turn.”
 Cass smiles sweetly. “Jump and punch?”
 “Roll an athletics check then, please.”
 She rolls a 13, and signs her results, ‘eighteen.’
 “You barely manage to leap within melee range of the Flameskull,” Tim narrates. “Roll to hit.”
 She rolls her dice again, rolling a flat 17. Again, she signs her result, ‘twenty-six.’
 “That will definitely hit.” He acknowledges.
 Cass then rolls damage, gets a 4, and signs the total, ‘nine.’ She glances down at her character sheet, and then back up at Tim. “Second attack?”
 Tim nods again, still jotting down the damage taken. “Go ahead and roll.”
 Rolling again, she gets a nine, so she signs the result, ‘eighteen.’
 He hums, “That'll also hit, roll damage.”
 She rolls and gets a 3. ‘Eight,’ she signs.
 Tim chuckles, “As you punch the Flameskull twice, the skull shatters and turns into sugary and cheesy skull dust.”
 Cass grins and fist-pumps the air as the rest of the table breaks into cheers.
 “Everyone breathe a sigh of relief! Encounter over.” He comments. “And I think we've reached our halfway mark, so we'll take a quick five minutes break to grab something to eat and drink, and we'll continue on after the break.”
==–==
| Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this little oneshot! Comments, likes, and reblogs are much appreciated! |
| @maribat-march2020 | | @vixen-uchiha |
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