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zombieplaguedoc · 7 months ago

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Hey, so back in September I went to the anime convention for four days, and the reason I didn't say anything right away is because I was waiting on two other commissions. Well, they both came, and now I can share it.

So, back in September, I went to an anime convention with Canada and Sasha, since last year I went with America and Estonia. We ended up staying for the whole event, which we usually don't do but since Canada had something to do in the same town the day after the convention officially ended, we did it this time. The first day we got there, we got some Culver's before going to our hotel room and unpacking, which was a lot harder to do than it looked. Since we arrived on the first day of the con, the hotel had a lot of people checking in so we had to wait a while to check in, but once we did it was pretty smooth sailing from there. We relaxed for a bit and then checked out the vendor hall before it closed. Saw some cool stuff, got some stuff. We got some dinner at a new Ramen place across the street, a d the Ramen they make is so good, way better than what you'd find at the store. Like so much better. So anyway, after that we went down to a panel at 10 pm where everyone discussed their fictional character crushes (one of the panelists had Rattlesnake Jake as a crush, and I was just so excited to see someone giving my dad some love, it just feels like nobody else loves him but me!). I got to admit a few of my fictional crushes (not saying who they are yet 🤫🤭), and I really felt among my people. The next panel was a Hetalia truth or dare panel that was at 11:30, and since I was going as Sealand from Hetalia, I fit right in; I got a few cosplayera who recognized me. I got to ask a few questions, even got asked to feel Germany's muscles (😳), got a dare or two in, I even got to sit up on the panel when three Nordic cosplayers got dared to switch out with three audience members of their choice for three rounds (I was chosen by Denmark), so yay my first panel experience! 🙌 So that went on until midnight.

The next day there was another Hetalia panel at 11:30, so I had to get up early for that, which I didn't mind at all; believe or not, an England cosplayer actually asked me to film it, which I accepted. I still got to participate- got to ask some questions and whatnot, seeing as how it was called 'A Scandal In Hetalia' where we basically had to solve who kidnapped Pierre, France's dove (it was Prussia). Also, I have a new ship thanks to that panel. That went on until 12:30. After that we checked out the rest of the vendor hall, bought some more stuff, and went to a small BJD panel that was at 1 called 'Anime doll meetup.' Not a whole lot happened during that panel, it was mainly people bringing in anime-style ball jointed dollars for you to look at and ask questions about, and there I learned that a Hetalia America doll I bought I believe two years ago actually counts as a ball-jointed doll, since somebody brought one on just like mine which I did not know, so I'll have to bring him next year. After that we bought some more stuff in the vendor hall, headed back up to the hotel room to get some lunch and watch an Indiana Jones movie to pass the time until the next panel at 4, which was a workshop where you got to make little miniature bento boxes for your ball-jointed dolls. We had a little bit of trouble assembling the boxes but I'm still proud of mine. It was a two-part workshop, over the span of two days and we went to the first part, which was making the boxes themselves. After that we went back up to the hotel room, ordered us some dinner, watched some TV, and went down at 10 for a panel called 'Art Attack', where we all played a game where we collaborated with an artist to come up with a new character based on a theme. Basically, after selecting a base for the body, we would all submit our ideas on this website for a specific part and each idea was put on a wheel that was spun, and whatever idea it landed on would go on the character. Unfortunately, I don't have a copy of the end result so I can't show you guys, but I don't mind; I had fun regardless.

The next day we didn’t have to wake up as early since the panels we wanted to go to weren't until late at night, so we got to mostly relax until 1 pm when there was a maid Cafe that was old anime-themed- the dance they did was the Haruhi Suzumiya ending dance That was fun, except the other sweets I ordered never came :/ Oh well. I still got to take a photo with two of my favorite maids and I got to have it personalized, so that was fun. After that I visited the vendor hall to order some commissions until the next panel at 4 pm, which was the second part of the miniature bento box workshop the day before. This part focused more in creating the miniature food that went inside the boxes and finishing off the boxes. Of course, I spent more time making sure my boxes looked good, but they gave us extra clay to take home and make food with, so that was nice. If I'm being honest, that panel was a lot of fun, I'm hoping the woman in charge comes back next year. After that we went up and ordered us some dinner from Five Guys since the next panel wasn't until 8:30, so we had some time to kill. At 8:30, we went down to the panel which was another Hetalia panel that was mostly centered around APH America and so had a bunch of America cosplayers- regular, nyo, 2p nyo, emo, America as Captain America, and Canada was involved too. Oh, and there was a toddler as part of the panel that was passed off as Chibi America; England even asked me to film this panel too. It was fun too, got a few American-themed goodies, got to ask some questions like what was their favorite Golden Girl, made a Victoria's Secret (the song) reference by telling England that Victoria was made up by a dude. Overall, very funny, would go again. Also, emo America was cute. After that we waited in line for the next panel which was a silent library panel. Unfortunately, this one wasn't as fun as the last one. For starters, there were a lot more people than at the last one, and they were all loud and wild as fuck, like seriously; the panel started at ten and went on til midnight and we only got three challenges done because most of it was spent the host trying to quiet everybody down because they all kept yelling when someone got punished for failing a challenge, or just for no reason. Then, people kept going in and out to use the bathroom so someone would yell 'door' whenever someone walked in, which wouldn't have been bad if it weren’t for the fact that it kept happening every time someone was up on stage to get punished for failing a challenge. On top of that, people got way too into the punishment, like they actually started taking off their pants before getting spanked, which was not something they did at the last silent library I went to. Now, I have no problem with nudity or sex when it comes to fictional characters, but that's it, that is my personal limit. I don't like real life human nudity, I hate humans, I'm not attracted to them at all, and yeah you get the point. Not only that, but since this was an 18+ panel, there was a strict 'No phones allowed' rule, and I swear, people do not know how to follow the rules, because the host caught someone with their phone out three times and all three times the person on their phone was escorted out or asked to leave. I swear, it's like being courteous to everyone participating in the panel was a foreign concept to them. On top of that, my wig kept giving me trouble, so we ended up leaving a half hour in. So yeah, not as fun as the last silent library panel I went to.

The last day of the con wasn't very exciting, which meant we were able to pack up everything with no trouble so we could leave the next day with ease since we had to check out the next day. There was a 'Test your rizz' panel that I wanted to go to since I thought it was like a panel I went to at a different con several years ago where you defended your fictional character and convinced the audience why they were superior waifu or husbando, but it wasn't anything like that, and the characters being cosplayed that were part of the panel weren't ones I'm into, so I quickly got bored and left and we just relaxed in the craft room. Overall, we took it easy the rest of the day, checked out the next day (we usually leave the con on the last day of the con while people are still there, so leaving it while it was completely empty save for the general public felt so fucking weird) stayed at another hotel since cousin Canada (standing in for a real life family member) had an appointment with a specialist, and the following day we went home. Overall, this con was a lot of fun, and I hope next year's con will be just as fun.

So I got a lot of stuff at this year's con, but before I show it, I absolutely have to show you all these cute little bento boxes I made at one of the panels.

Unfortunately, I started them at the con and didn't finish them until recently, and by then the clay they had allowed some of us to take home- which we used to make the miniature food- had dried up, so I ended up half-assing the food. They're not perfect but I still like them.

Okay, so, onto the stuff.

Sadly, there's a photo limit so I'll have to put what I got in a different post since it's quite a bit when combined with the bento box images.

Antis dni, this post is not for you

#antis do not interact #anime #anime convention

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bloodsweatandpotato · 2 years ago

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Day 19

Repeatedly passing out, head lolling

Fandom: Original work

Characters: Whisper (OC), Listener (OC)

Tw: blood, drugging, gunfight

Summary: After getting caught and tortured while attempting to disarm a bomb, Listener is relieved to be rescued by Whisper. The only problem? Listener is dead tired after having been interrogated and tortured for nearly five hours, and the helicopter won’t make it to pick Whisper and Listener up. This is part of a larger whump series I made a while back, rewritten and polished up to fit my current writing style/standards. I might post more about these guys, but for now have this out of context snippet.

They reached the outside relatively easily, only having spent a few bullets (plus the kitchen knife Whisper had stabbed a guard with and subsequently left buried in the poor guy’s chest).

They burst through the side doors, Whisper taking the lead. He glanced back at Listener, one hand clutching his gun, the other pressed to his earpiece. Listener gave a shaky thumbs up, and Whisper continued the hushed conversation, the injured agent only catching snippets of talking.

Finally the conversation seemed to wrap up, and Whisper turned back to Listener. “This is bigger than just one bomb, the base in in chaos right now, and they don’t have the resources to pick us up. Next guaranteed pick up window is Thursday. We’re on our own until then.” He spoke quickly and sharply, tone calm yet urgent.

Listener nodded to show his understanding, not yet trusting his voice.

Whisper scanned the tree-surrounded parking lot, eyes catching on a mildly-well-upkept SUV. It was a light slate gray, with a small dent on its left side, but nothing to make it too recognizable.

“Cover the door, we’re borrowing that.”

Listener walked with Whisper over to the car, before he turned back to the facility door. He held the rifle against his chest as he kept an eye on the closed doors.

The sounds of Whisper picking the lock and kicking in the underneath of the dashboard was drowned out by the ringing in Listener’s ears. The injured agent stumbled a bit, leaning back against the side of the car, before sliding down to sit.

A hand landed on his shoulder as Whisper’s face came into focus. “Hey! Don’t pass out on me now. We’re so close to getting out of here.” The redhead’s eyes flicked up to the door across the parking lot, lips pressed into a tight line. “Focus. I’m almost done.”

Listener hummed in understanding, and Whisper pulled away, going back to his attempt to hot-wire the car. The engine stuttered, before starting with a purr, and Whisper turned to Listener, kneeling next to the injured agent.

“C’mon, let’s get you up.” Without waiting for a response, he hooked his arms around Listener’s middle, grunting as he pulled the man to standing. He half-led-half-dragged Listener to the backseat door of the car.

“Hm?“ Listener shook himself back to awareness. “Can’t I sit in the passengers’?”

“You’re going in the back so if you pass out you’ve got somewhere more comfortable to lay. We’ve got to put some distance between us and this place, and it’s gonna take a while.” Whisper answered.

Listener didn’t argue, and Whisper was almost more worried about that fact than the rapidly darkening black-eye and the river of crusted blood that covered Listener’s face.

Just as Listener settled in the back, the doors to the facility flew open, and five guards poured into the lot, guns blazing.

“Down!” Whisper growled, pushing Listener’s head between his knees, before slamming the car door closed and rolling to the side. He brought his handgun up, firing three quick shots that brought down two of the guards. The other one ricocheted off of the side of the building, hitting the pavement with a brief spark.

Whisper dove for the driver’s side door, a bullet whizzing past his ear close enough for him to feel the sharp breath of heat.

He slammed on the gas pedal almost before he managed to slide into the seat. He spun the wheel, turning the car in reverse and backing out of the lot as quickly as physically possible.

The sound of gunshots was deafening to Listener’s already frazzled senses. He forced himself to straighten up tentatively, risking a peek out the back windshield at the three remaining guard, all with their guns raised.

One in particular held a sniper rifle up to his shoulder, looking through the scope with a look of utter determination on his face. The others may miss, but the man with the sniper rifle wouldn’t.

Almost without thinking, Listener rolled down the window, shouldered his rifle, leaned out of the car, and squeezed the trigger. A pained grunt and a spurt of blood and sniper-rifle man was on the ground, clutching at his newly-punctured chest.

They tore out of the parking lot before the other guards had time to process what had happened.

Listener rolled the window back up, dropped the gun, and slumped back onto the seats.

Whisper’s frantic panting broke off into near-hysterical laughter as the raced down the road. “Oh! G-god! You’re fucking insane, you know that, agent? You-you just-! Ha! That was a clean fucking shot there!”

Listener gave a tired smile. “Do I win?”

“The bet? Ha-! How could you not? I should’ve known you’d make a cleaner kill half-conscious from the back of a moving car than I could with a kitchen knife. God-!”

He spared a glance back to Listener, wild eyes still shining with adrenaline. “You still seeing double?”

“Yeah.” Listener admitted shakily, bringing a hand up to touch his blood-crusted forehead.

Whisper let out another breathless laugh, before falling silent, processing the events that had just transpired.

A few minutes passed, and as the last dregs of adrenaline bled (both literally and figuratively) from Listener’s bloodstream, he sagged in his seat. His gun strap was pulled off of his shoulder with clumsy, blood-loss-numb fingers, and he set it down on the floor of the car.

The agent managed to sit himself back, head lolling on his shoulders as his thoughts grew more and more fuzzy. He slowly realized Whisper was talking to him, before jolting as the redhead snapped his fingers.

“Hey, agent, you hear anything I just said?”

Listener hummed something in leu of answering, no coherent meaning really behind the noise.

Whisper sighed, hissing through his teeth. “Yeah, you’re fading alright.” He turned to look at Listener, before flicking his blinker on and turning on to a main road, letting the car blend with the other traffic. “Think you can stay conscious long enough for me to make it to a gas station? I can pick you up some water or juice or something. You’re pale as a sheet.”

Listener meant to answer, he really did, but between the drugs coursing through his bloodstream, the concussion that seemed to be beating against his skull, and the blood loss from the many cuts and gashes he was trying to pointedly ignore, he couldn’t stay conscious any longer.

The agent slumped to the side, having just enough lucidity left to keep himself from rolling onto the car floor as he passed out laying across the seats.

###

He woke up an undetermined amount of time later, eyes flickering open as it took him longer than usual to realize where he was, who he was with, and whether he was in immediate danger.

“Hey, hey, you with me?” A voice, sharp but concerned. Whisper.

Listener gave a groan in response. “Y-yeah. ‘M awake.”

“Good. I got you some orange juice and a package of cookies. Think you can keep ‘em down?”

A hand wandered to Listener’s cheek, patting him as if trying to keep him awake.

“Hey, you hear me?”

He blinked dazedly as he realized he hadn’t answered. “Oh, yeah. Yeah. Jus’ let me up.”

A flicker of relief crossed Whisper’s face, and he helped pull Listener to a sitting position, before opening the plastic bottle of juice and the bag of cookies (both classic foods for blood loss, with their sugar, electrolytes, sweet taste, and rehydration factor).

“Here. If you start passing out again put the lid back on. I don’t fancy the car smelling like orange juice for the rest of the trip.” Whisper handed Listener the bottle and bag as soon as he was satisfied the injured agent wasn’t going to tip over. Listener grunted his thanks, before taking a small sip of the juice.

Whisper slipped back into the driver’s seat, sipping his own bottle of water, before pulling out of the gas station parking lot and merging onto the interstate. They lapsed into a comfortable silence for several minutes, both nursing their drinks, before a quiet voice broke the silence.

“Whisper?”

“Yeah?” The response was muffled by his water bottle, but it sounded less strained now, less panicky.

“Thanks.”

“No problem, partner.” Whisper grinned, “I’ll always be here to help out when you need me.” His grin morphed into a quieter, more sincere smile. "After all, that's what friends do."

They sat quietly for a bit. The sound of rushing cars filled the air around them. Maybe five minutes later, it started to rain, the sky darkening as a thunderstorm rolled in. The sound of the tires on the wet pavement was comforting.

The drum of the rain on the windshield did nothing to keep Listener awake, and soon the agent felt himself begin to sway. He screwed the orange juice lid closed with fumbling hands, as if in a daze.

His head hit the seat and fell forward on his chest, his breaths coming slow and heavy.

As Listener sank deeper into unconsciousness, he heard the soft voice of Whisper saying something else, which faded away with the pounding drums of the storm.

###

Listener jolted awake to a loud, panic inducing bang. The first thing that went through Listener's mind was that the noise could be a gunshot. The second thing was that he had absolutely no idea where he was or what was happening.

He shot upright, tumbling off of the car seat with a pained cry. The gash on his forehead reopened, blood dripping down his face as his eyes darted around, unseeing.

The car jerked to a stop, and Listener's door was yanked open.

His vision cleared to the feeling of pain in his knuckles and the sight of Whisper spitting out blood. The redhead hold up his hands placatingly, speaking in a low but firm tone. "Woah, woah. Easy. Look at me, agent. It's just me. Look.”

It took a moment, but Listener found his way to the point of lucidity where he recognized his teammate. Once the fog in his mind cleared up, Listener could feel his whole body relaxing, until a wave of guilt washed over him.

"Whisper..."

Whisper smiled softly. "Yeah, yeah. It's me. You checked out on me there for a minute. Had to pull over after you threw yourself onto the floor."

A car whizzed by on the interstate.

"...I punched you. Sorry..."

"It's fine. I'm more worried about your head. Let's get you up and we can take a look at that gash you just reopened."

Whisper grabbed the other man, helping him back up onto the car seat.

Another booming sound rolled over them, and Listener realized it had been thunder that had woken him in such a panic. He then realized that Whisper was absolutely drenched from the rain.

"I'm fine. Let's just get going again. The bleeding is already slowing down again."

"If you're sure..." Whisper scanned Listener's face, scrutinizing him.

Listener nodded, and Whisper seemed convinced. "Alright."

Whisper shut Listener's door, climbing back into the driver's seat. The car started up with a purr, and they continued on. Almost before Listener knew what was happening, the world spun, his vision blurred, and he passed out again.

#whumptober2022 #whump #no.19 #head lolling #repeatedly passing out #whump writing #spy whumpee #spy whump #writing #whump drabble #chocolate bullet holes

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lust-ofasmodeus · 3 years ago

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MC that needs glasses x demon brothers

GN!MC

Fluff

Cw: gambling

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MC is just blind blind in some of these

Lucifer

He asked you to pass him some documents about the house spendings but when you got to him he looked at it and it wasn’t what he asked for

He asked you why you passed him that one and you just said you got confused and forgot what he said. In the end he got it himself highly suspicious of your behaviour

The next few day he kept asking you to read things for him and when you struggled so much he just sighed and walked away

You were just sitting in your room when he walked in with a pair of glasses and put them on you. Your furrowed your brows and looked up at him pouting

“I don’t know why you don’t want to wear glasses but they look good on you and this way you won’t struggle anymore.” He smirked and walked away

Mammon

You were out gambling with Mammon and you were at the roulette table. You put a bet on the ball landing on a single number

The wheel spun and when it landed you started celebrating and Mammon just looked at you confused like did you want to lose?

“Oi why are ya celebratin’ losin’ money?” You looked at him confused and then looked closer at the roulette and the ball landed on a different number

The same thing happened when you played poker and other games where you would somehow always see the wrong number

Thinking it can’t be a coincidence he made sure you got glasses and would laugh at you at first but when he saw it made you feel bad he stopped and apologised so much just so you would hang out with him again

Levi

The two of you were hanging out in his room playing a game. You were sitting a bit far from the screen and it was so blurry

He kept telling you to grab something but you kept walking into walls or his character and he paused the game

He thought you didn’t want to play with him because he was a gross otaku so he got sad but it showed up as anger “if you don’t want to play you don’t have to you know.”

You didn’t get to say anything as he told you to leave but when you did you bumped into his desk and fell over

At that moment he realised what was happening and he laughed. “Oh my sweet MC you do know that glasses will only make you cuter” he blurted that out while laughing and when he realised what he had said he got so red

The next day he took you to get glasses even if you protested that you don’t need them. In the end you actually found glasses that fit your head shape perfectly

Satan

You two had a tradition of reading to each other and at first it wasn’t that bad but then your eyesight started getting worse

When he was done reading he waited for you to start. You struggled and squinted so much that this man got up at one moment and came back a moment later with a pair he thought would fit you.

“I don’t want to hear it you can’t see so you better not fight me on this one.” He put them on you and smirked “you look really hot in those glasses”

You blushed so hard and now your words were all scrambled, not from not seeing shit but from his comment

Asmo

Asmo and you always did your skincare together in his room. It would be one of the rare times where you could actually relax in a house full of demons

He asked you to go get some kind of spray from the bathroom and when you can back he almost sprayed it but in the last moment he noticed you got him a cleaning supply and he almost lost all of his beauty

At first he thought it was some kind of prank but soon he realised that your eyesight was actually going bad

But don’t fear he would get you the perfect glasses, maybe even some sun glasses with your prescription or the ones that darken when the sun shines on them <after writing this i realised there is no sun there but just go with it lol>

When he sees how good they look he kinda wishes he could wear glasses like you

Beel

Preparing dinner with Beel was always fun. You two fit each other so well in the kitchen. He would make the greatest dishes and you would make sure the others got to eat them

But recently you started mixing up ingredients. Nothing too bad but definitely noticeable when eating it

Beel noticed and corrected you but the poor boy was worried and asked Lucifer if there was something wrong with you. When he learned that you probably need glasses at first he got you something similar to Lucifers

When he saw you didn’t like them he felt bad but then you took him with you to get your eyes checked and got a pair that framed your face perfectly and honestly he loved them on you

Belphie

Either noticed right away or it took him a while no in between

If he noticed right away he wouldn’t say anything he would tease you in a way where he would ask you to read something to him like instructions on a box

You managed eventually and he would just laugh quietly watching you struggle. After messing with you for a while he would tell you to actually go see an optometrist

If he didn’t notice because he was asleep always he would get mad when you wouldn’t (but really couldn’t) read something and you had to cuddle with him after

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me fluff #gn!mc #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphie #obey me leviathan #obey me mammon #obey me satan #asmodeus obey me #obey me lucifer #om lucifer #om leviathan #om mammon #om satan #om belphegor #om beelzebub #om asmodeus

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lovetorn · 4 years ago

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in chains for you [dream]

Dream x Fem!Reader Criminals!AU

Summary: The Dream Team is an underground crime group that works for Techno Industries. But what happens when one of their most valuable members is taken for ransom by their enemy, Schlatt?

Warnings: Swearing & mean insults :(, kidnapping, death, violence, uhhh nothing else? message me if you see anything else!

Word Count: 8.1k+

A/N: I’m so sorry for any mistakes/plot holes, my adhd said no❤️ when i was editing :(

Note: Please remember these are all characters! Since I do not know any of these people in real life, I have created all aspects of their lives, personalities etc. and apologise for any OOC moments. I portrayed Schlatt as the villain purely from his role play in the Dream SMP, obviously, I do not believe him to be like this irl in any way. He is also written as much older than the Dream Team to enhance the villain-like characteristics. Remember, this is just fiction! Thanks!

Night had fallen over California, and the icy breeze from the South blew through the city of Beverly Hills. The lights from several luxury hotels and displays lit up the streets and exposed the city. It was more alive than half the people that resided there. Here, people only cared about their money and their assets; barely any room left for emotions towards others that didn’t benefit them.

“Hurry the fuck up, Sapnap!”

The gravelly sound of Dream shouting prompted Y/n to run faster. Tensions were high as three criminals rushed to the dark SUV that sat running outside of the tall building. They clutched black duffle bags in both hands when the sound of familiar sirens cried a few blocks away.

Unlocking the car, George threw open the back car door and launched his duffle bags onto the car seats before hopping in. Dream rounded the car and opened the door to the driver’s seat, Y/n doing the same for the passenger’s side. And whilst they were shoving the bags in, Sapnap came running out of the building, another duffle bag in his hand and a briefcase in the other. The ends of his white bandana flew around in the wind behind him as he missed a dip in the floor.

“What the fuck has he got now? We’ve gotta go!” George exclaimed, hurrying the boy by waving his hand. Dream put the car in drive as Sapnap slammed the door, “Go, go, go!”

The car squealed while Dream pulled off of the curb, the wheels screeching against the tar as he pressed his foot heavily on the accelerator. 40, 50, 70, 100, 130mph. The speedometer jumped by 10s and then by 40s as the car barrelled down the long strip of road, the wailings of sirens fading behind them.

George, Y/n and Sapnap were laughing as they took their masks off. The sound pissed Dream off as he gripped the steering wheel harder; why is nobody taking this seriously?

Ripping his white mask off his face and throwing it into his lap, Dream looked at Sapnap through the rearview mirror, “Why did you take so long? That could’ve fucked our whole plan!”

“Jeez, chill out.”

Dream shot him a glare through the mirror as Sapnap put his hand up, “Schlatt said he had a briefcase full of Chick-Fil-A gift cards, so I grabbed the first one I saw.”

George lolled his head to the side, mouth agape as he stared at him in disbelief. “Are you shitting me?”

Sapnap shook his head, resting the case on his thighs and popping open the clasps.

“Fuck yeah!” He cheered, turning the case around to show the rest of the car the bundles of hundreds of red and white cards that laid on a sheet of red velvet. Sapnap’s eyes remained as wide as saucers the entire time he tilted the case at different angles to ensure everybody saw.

Y/n turned around in her seat to face the boys in the back and giggled.

“Can I have one?” She asked, holding her hands up in a praying gesture. Sapnap laughed and nodded, “I’ve got enough for a whole country! And anything for you, Y/n.” Y/n smiled at him, mouthing a quick ‘thank you’ before turning back around to face the road that was gone as quick as it came.

The deep sigh that came from Dream in the driver’s seat caught the attention of everybody in the car. Sapnap rolled his eyes and shut the case. “Calm down, green boy. She’s all yours.”

Arriving at the motel George had found, the four lugged the black duffle bags in the small room. Locking the room door, Dream spun around to see everybody sitting on one of the single beds.

He eyed the black duffle bags in the corner with a frown, each one full to the brim with thousands of 100 dollar bills that they had to transfer back to base. George cleared his throat when he saw his friend looking at the bags and raised his eyebrows, “Dream?” The man turned at the sound of his name and nodded once. He had an odd feeling in his stomach but decided to ignore it and face the problem at hand first before anything else.

Dream sighed, “We did good tonight,” The three on the bed hollering softly, fist-bumping each other before Dream continued.

“But...” Y/n, George and Sapnap all groaned, throwing their heads back at the oncoming disappointment that Dream was going to throw on them.

“Sapnap, what the fuck was that? You can’t go off on your own tangents during a plan this big! What would’ve happened if—”

Sapnap’s eyes widened when he realised Dream’s rage was aimed towards him. “Dream! It’s okay, bro. I’m right here, we’re all alive—”

“Don’t talk back to me.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Y/n avoided Dream’s gaze when it landed on her. She didn’t want him asking her to back him up; not tonight.

“Anyway, I hope you all know what comes next.” The three nodded, heads down and eyes trained on the worn carpet. Sapnap and George stood up and went to different sides of the room, George to the bathroom and Sapnap to the desk where he pulled out his iPod and earphones.

Dream watched as Y/n lifted her head back up, meeting his gaze. She gave him a soft smile and patted the space on the bed next to her. Dream ran a hand through his tangled blonde hair and walked over to her, sitting where her hand once was.

“You okay?” She asked softly, placing her hand over his that sat in his lap. Dream nodded before huffing. “I just don’t know how successful this plan actually is. Something’s off.” He whispered, grabbing her hand. Y/n leaned forward to try and meet his green eyes; the ones that made her weak at the knees when he looked at her a certain way. But he didn’t need to know that considering they were just friends.

“We did good today, look! We’re here, alive and well. And if something’s bothering you, just know that I’ll always be here to help you. Now, I need the bathroom.” She smiled, squeezing his hand before standing up.

“George? When are you done?” She yelled at the bathroom door. Dream tilted his head to the side as he admired her, what would he do without her?

“Soon! Stop being annoying!”

It had reached a point in the night where Dream couldn’t sleep. The single bed he laid in was uncomfortable, and the nagging feeling of doubt kept him awake. Something was wrong.

He looked over a Y/n who laid in the other bed across from him. His top priority was to keep her safe; he had to. His eyes then travelled to his two other best friends—Sapnap in the desk chair and George on the brown couch.

He smiled softly. Dream rarely got emotional, but seeing his friends and partners in crime—literally—so vulnerable, had his mind plagued with vicious scenarios that brought tears to his alarmingly vacant eyes.

They weren’t always void, but seeing death as he did, had pushed the soul of nature out of his once striking eyes. He thought they looked dull now, matching the rest of his face, but Y/n always told him they were the prettiest she’d ever seen. He’d always flush when she said that which always elicited a poke in the ribs and a teasing comment from her.

Dream forgot how long he’d been lying there, his mind drifting in and out of sleeping until a high-pitched squeak came from the main door. He reached for his knife that held a place under the pillow and sat up, holding his knife and facing the door.

On the floor next to the door, sat an ominous black envelope. Dream chewed the inside of his lip, his heart beating rapidly with panic. How did they find them?

—

“How the fuck did they find us?” George asked, his palms sweaty as he held the letter in his hands. The gold foiling around the letters was both alluring and terrifying.

Palm Casino. Wednesday Night. 12am. Be there, or face death.

Dream had rolled his eyes when he read the letter for the first time; Schlatt was so dramatic. And although fear and doubt had set in his stomach, he didn’t let his friends know.

How did they find them? They had been careful with the robbery, getting everything they needed without leaving a trace, nothing out of place, except for—

Dream shoved his partners out of the way and leaned down to pick up the briefcase with the Chic-Fil-A gift cards. Sapnap went to interject, primarily to save his prized possession when Y/n grabbed his elbow and shook her head when he turned to her.

Dream opened it then turned it upside down, emptying the cards onto the rotting carpet.

“Dream—”

“Shut up.” He then continued to rip the velvet from the inside of the case to reveal a small box with a red flashing light. Sapnap stopped his wriggling and stood staring at the device.

“This is your fault, you dipshit.”

Sapnap was silent. Y/n softened her grip to rub his elbow comfortingly instead, the action making Dream narrow his gaze. The girl rolled her eyes and spoke up, “How was he supposed to know it was in there, Dream? You can’t blame him for this at all.”

Dream shook his head and dropped his gaze to the floor before huffing and scrunching his nose in a disgusted manner.

Midnight had arrived quickly, like a thief in the dark, and the crescent moon hung high in the sky. A light breeze swept into the city, making the palm trees sway in the delicate moonlight as a black SUV pulled up to the Palm Casino.

“Okay, here we go. I want you all on your best behaviour,” Dream joked. And as his mask only hid half of his face, a lopsided grin graced his face as he popped the door open. Y/n knew that smile; it was one that was begging for chaos, but she knew it was just a deflection from his real emotions.

Walking to the entrance, Y/n reached up and placed her hand on Dream’s shoulder. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

Dream let out a laugh, “Wouldn’t dream of it, baby.”

The boys sported black on black suits with matching Rolex watches, the gold of the timepieces shining in the low light. The only differences between them being Dream’s smiley mask, Sapnap’s white bandana in his hair, and George’s white glasses upon the top of his head. Y/n, on the other hand, wore a fitting dress with gold jewellery. She would’ve worn anything else, but considering the situation, she complied.

As the waitress walked them over to the poker table, Y/n caught Dream’s hand in her own, squeezing it once before letting go. She knew he was worried and the action in itself was enough to calm Dream’s nerves for the time being, but as soon as he made eye contact with Schlatt, it all went away.

“Boys! How are we doing?” The man yelled, throwing his arms up with a smile on his face. Dream nodded once and sat down at the table, Sapnap and George following. Y/n went to sit beside Sapnap but was cut off by Schlatt who took it upon himself to police the members at said table.

“I’m sorry, gorgeous. I’m afraid this game is only for the men.” He gave her a tight-lipped smile and clasped his hands on the table. Y/n narrowed her gaze at him before rolling her eyes and moving to stand behind Dream.

Schlatt then stood and excused himself from the table, making George throw Dream a confused look before the man spoke up. He walked towards another room, guarded by velvet ropes, but not before shouting, “Let the games begin!”

—

Dream sat observing the last man in the game next to himself, ensuring he wouldn’t lose, not that he ever did. He had learnt from his father early on to read the expressions of the players around him and how to benefit from the folds and raises. People were shocked when they found out his age, bewildered that such a young man could earn numbers like that.

Dream stared narrowly at the man; his eyebrows raised as he wore a sly smirk. The man in front of him was profusely sweating, his hand reaching to grasp a tissue from his pocket as the last community card was placed down. The surrounding men groaned; their expressions irritable as the Dream Team gained another win. Dream threw the cards onto the Poker table and stood up, offering his hand to the gentleman. He reluctantly accepted then hurried out of the room, four of his acquaintances following.

Y/n watched as Dream swapped seats with Sapnap, allowing him his turn at the game. She then moved and leaned down to Dream’s ear, “This is bullshit, where’s Schlatt gone?”

Dream shook his head and shrugged quickly, “Fuck knows.”

“Let’s go, Sapnap,” A man they recognised as Fletcher spoke, sitting down in front of the young man as his buddies filed around the table to take their seats. Sapnap didn’t talk, he only glanced back at Dream who tilted his head, holding his forefinger up to indicate this would be their last round.

Once Sapnap had collected his two starting cards, the game began. Dream watched as each of the men were eliminated through folds and how they apologised to Fletcher for letting him down. The man brushed them off, telling them to “watch how it’s done”. Dream, Sapnap and George stifled a laugh as they watched the second last man fold. Behind them, Y/n grew impatient and began mumbling to herself about how ridiculous it was.

“Excuse me? Can’t you see we’re in the middle of a round? Get the fuck outta here.” Fletcher said, his voice harsh as Y/n’s eyebrows flew to her hairline. Dream went to interject before the man spoke again.

“A scotch on the rocks.” He then said.

“I’m not a waitress.” Y/n’s voice was monotone while the man waved her away. Y/n scoffed before she moved towards him. Dream’s hand flew out to catch her wrist, and Y/n rolled her eyes. As angry as Dream was, he wasn’t going to start something with Schlatt’s men before the meeting actually started. Sapnap didn’t pay any attention to the conversations around him, focusing only on winning.

Fletcher chuckled, holding his cards close to his chest, “you dumb kid”. Sapnap’s facial expression went from serious to amused, watching as the dealer placed down the final community card. Sapnap’s eyes flickered to Fletcher’s grey ones as he slammed his cards down on the table. Sapnap then reached to gather his winnings in chips, earning pats on the back from George and a gentle laugh and fist-bump from Dream.

Fletcher sat in disbelief; he was sure he would win this one. Sapnap stood up and embraced George in a hug before moving to Dream as Fletcher circled around the table.

“You cheating bastard!” Sapnap held his hands up in defence, clueless as to why this man was coming at him.

“No cheating here, Fletch, just plain luck,” He grinned, clearly not fearful of him.

“Dude just take the loss and move on, it’s not that deep,” Y/n said, catching the attention of Fletcher again.

“Not now, you whore. The men are talking,” Fletcher glowered, looking intimidatingly down at the girl.

Y/n, however, wasn’t fazed by his words, “Look, it’s not his fault that you lost. I guess you just suck at Poker.” Fletcher’s face went bright red, and Y/n swore she saw steam coming out of his ears. Her eyes widened as she took a step back slowly. George pushed her behind him despite her protests of being able to handle herself.

“Come on Fletch, there’s no need to go after an innocent woman,” Dream asserted, placing his hand on the man’s shoulder. He soon realised that his actions were a mistake as Fletcher spun around and threw his fist towards Dream’s nose. Dream’s mask had cracked slightly on impact, his green eyes widening in panic as he stumbled back slightly.

Sapnap scanned the other men around them and calculated their next moves before he ducked a punch from a redhead. George’s hands gripped under Dream’s armpits as he pulled him up, dodging fists from the older men. Dream’s eyes were watering from the unexpected hit to the nose, and he could barely see.

But what he did see was Y/n raising the metal drinks tray she found on the poker table next to them and slamming it down on the back of Fletcher’s bald head. Her eyes were wide as she stood behind his figure that was now on the floor, groaning. Her eyes met his and Dream felt his breath catch in his throat, but he couldn’t acknowledge it at the present time because there were five other guys to deal with.

Dream regained his posture and cocked his head to the right, stretching his neck before standing off to the others. The men stood with their fists raised in front of their faces and their feet apart, ready to engage. George, Sapnap and Dream were just as confused as Y/n was, who was making sure Fletcher stayed down.

“I really fucking hate you guys. Let’s get a move on with the meeting, shall we?” Y/n said lazily, she just wanted to get home.

—

Dream sat in a large black chair, the lower half of his face covered in blood, the top half covered by his stained, cracked mask. Y/n had her legs crossed, with a stern expression, glaring at Schlatt as he rounded the table to sit at his obnoxiously large desk.

Schlatt had demanded it only be Dream and Y/n in the office with him, making George and Sapnap wait outside. The two boys had angrily complained about it, but Dream assured them it would be fine, leaving them to sulk next to the heavy wooden door that led to Schlatt’s office.

“You two make a good pair, eh?” Schlatt smirked, bringing his hands to interlock in front of him on the desk. Dream glanced at Y/n, who gave him a bored look.

He then turned back to the front, “Why are we here, Schlatt?”

“Oh, not very friendly,” He laughed, earning no responses from anyone in the room except for his assistant, Quackity, who stood in the corner. “That’s Quackity by the way.”

Dream shrugged, uninterested with the introduction of his assistant and remained still until Schlatt continued.

“Now, tell me where the money is, Dream.” There it was—the literal million-dollar question.

The masked blonde didn’t react. Y/n cast her eyes towards him, seeing nothing but the white mask that covered his face. The smile on the front was a harsh contrast to the anger Dream felt. And when Schlatt huffed and wiggled his fingers at Quackity, then Dream perked up.

Suddenly, Y/n wrists were being grabbed by Quackity, who had crossed the room in seconds. Dream immediately stood, only to be pushed back by Schlatt who had moved in front of him.

Y/n opened her mouth object when Quackity whacked his free hand over her mouth. She let out a whimper at the smack, tears welling in her eyes in shock. Nonetheless, she continued to struggle against his harsh grip on her wrists. Y/n’s breathing became heavier, her thoughts clouded with fear of the unknown; what would Schlatt want with her?

Quackity dragged the girl from the large chair towards the other side of the room, where another door lay, but he didn’t take her in yet. Dream’s gaze was locked on Y/n, everything else slipping away as he watched her thrash against her captor.

“Let’s call it leverage?” Schlatt’s haunting voice echoed through the room, and he had an evil gleam in his eye. “You tell me where you hid the money, and I’ll let her go.”

Dream’s head was on a swivel when he turned back to face Schlatt. Panic blossomed in his stomach; if he gave up the money, they’d all be dead. And as hard of a decision as it was, Dream knew what to do—he had his full faith in Y/n. He remembered what she had told him when they first started working together and drew in a breath. He nodded at Y/n once, receiving a pleading look in reply, and sighed.

“Give ‘em hell, baby.”

—

“Are you out of your fuckin’ mind?” Sapnap spat as the three men got back into the SUV outside of the casino. George shook his head in the backseat, scoffing as Dream ignored their questions.

Meanwhile, Dream drove in complete fury. He knew what he did was wrong and stupid, but Y/n once demanded he let her go if she was ever held for ransom. It was an odd request at the time. And this was an irrational move that could get her killed, but he had no choice—it was her or the whole operation, and Dream was loyal.

“Hello? You fuckin’—”

“Sapnap.”

The youngest froze at Dream’s tone and sunk into his seat, choosing to look out of the window than at him. He flexed his hand against the steering wheel, refusing to meet their gazes.

“Y/n asked me before any of this started, that if she were to ever be held hostage, for ransom, whatever, to trust her and let them take her. I don’t know why I never asked her why, but we have to trust her, and you have to trust me for making this decision.”

“Call Techno and tell him that Schlatt’s taken one of us for ransom.” Dream said to no one in particular. Sapnap scrambled to get his phone from his pocket and dial their boss’ number, but not before turning and facing Dream from the passenger’s seat.

“I—we trust you, Dream. And we’ll be with you till the end, okay?” Sapnap mumbled, gesturing to George in the backseat.

“She’ll be fine.” Dream had a hard time believing George, “We know Y/n, she’s a strong girl—a whole lot stronger than us—she’ll get through it.”

The piercing sound of metal against metal made Y/n cringe, distracting her from the burning of the new rope bound around her wrists. Quackity’s heavy breathing almost made her laugh, they hadn’t even walked for that long.

He didn’t say anything to Y/n when he guided her inside a cell. She furrowed her eyebrows as she looked around the dirty space, scrunching her nose in disgust as she noticed the damp walls and the stray cockroach that scurried across the floor.

“I’m sorry about the state of this, we don’t have visitors often,” Quackity said, exhaling a scoff he let go of her arms. Y/n’s face dropped when she felt the rope loosen and fall off her wrists. She remained still as Quackity rummaged around behind her.

The screech of the cell door closing startled Y/n—she thought she’d have more time to fight back. She heard Quackity shuffle away from the cell, and shortly after, the sound of dress shoes tapping on the concrete floor caught her attention.

Y/n slowly turned around when someone cleared their throat behind her. She rolled her eyes as she came face to face with Schlatt. He stood with his hands behind his back in his usual arrogant suit and his deep red tie.

“Do you know why my tie is this red?” He asked, his head tilted to the side with a patronising smirk. It was an odd question, but Y/n could already guess the answer, she just didn’t want to hear it when she was this vulnerable.

Schlatt leaned down and closer to the cell, his face fitting perfectly between the bars as his eyes glared into Y/n’s.

“It’s so you can’t see the bloodstains.” He winked before sanding to his full height, his mood shifting entirely, “Anyways, I’m gonna keep this short. Get comfortable, Princess, you’ll be here awhile knowing Dream and his goons.”

With a clap of his hands and a small chuckle, Schlatt left, his shoes clacking down the hallway and into the elevator at the end of the hallway. The machine dinged and then it was gone, leaving Y/n in a deafening silence.

She sank to her knees, crestfallen, onto the concrete beneath her, still in her tight dress. As strong-minded as Y/n was, she couldn’t bring herself to give a witty remark. She was absolutely defeated. She knew Dream would get her out, eventually, but at what cost? Would Dream let everything the Dream Team has worked for in the past 3 years go to waste? For her?

She didn’t let herself cry as she picked herself up, and hesitantly sat on the cot in the corner of the cell. Her dress was uncomfortable, and the feeling of satin against her skin irritated her immensely.

Y/n had no idea how far underground she was; she sat in complete darkness and utter silence, nothing but the ringing of her ears and her screaming thoughts to keep her company.

—

Dream paced the small space, tearing at his hair roots with his fists, his face red with panic and anger. He was so in his head; he couldn’t hear his two friends calling his name from 3 feet away. The thought of Y/n alone with Schlatt made him so infuriated he could punch a hole through the brick wall next to him. The ringing in his ears was deafening, and the stinging of his nails digging into his palms was numbing.

Sapnap threw George a concerned glance, his brown eyes pleading George to do something to stop Dream from falling further into an endless loop of guilt and despair.

“Dream!” The sound of George calling him in that tone caused him to pause his pacing. He turned to look at his English friend with wide eyes, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

“You need to stop! Y/n wouldn’t want you having an existential crisis over her, she’d want you to hurry up and figure out a plan to get her back.”

Dream stood frozen for a moment; what would Y/n want? It was like a switch flipped inside Dream when he stood up straight, sending him into autopilot. All emotion wiped was from his face, leaving his eyes vacant and face blank. And as much as George hated to admit it, this cold version of his best friend knew what to do and how to do it efficiently. The sudden change shocked Sapnap slightly, leaving him frightened as he grabbed onto George’s sleeve.

“Ok boys, let’s get to work.”

Emotion is a weakness, and they sure did not need that right now.

Y/n had been suffering in the same tight dress and uncomfortable heels for a week; Schlatt’s lack of humanity and human decency (as well as kidnapping her in the first place), had put him in Y/n’s bad books.

The only human interaction she had was Quackity bringing her meals twice a day and the small conversations they would have as she ate. He didn’t talk about his work much, only hinting at his eventual betrayal and escape from Schlatt. Although, he continually spoke of his family to her, telling Y/n that he was there against his will and was threatened with death if he left. She felt sympathy for the boy, he was so young.

When Alex, as she now calls him, left her, Y/n was back with her mind. She had remained seemingly sane despite being in solitary confinement but was going insane without Dream. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw his emerald ones gleaming at her through the darkness, their vibrance giving her shivers.

She missed his touch: his cold hands in her’s, their knees brushing slightly when sitting on the motel bed, his hand on her thigh in the car, despite complaints from the boys. She cared deeply for him, and she knew he did too, but they were both too scared of rejection to get together. Sapnap always teased them for being ‘pussies’, and George would roll his eyes whenever they would flush at their closeness—god, she missed them too.

Biting her lip, Y/n tried her best to prevent tears from falling down her cheeks. But she hadn’t let them fall since being held ransom, fearing she would be seen as weak by Schlatt, and even Alex. The burning at the back of her throat was fiery as she let them out. She struggled to breathe, clawing at her throat when she felt her lungs tighten. Y/n tried to sit upright to calm herself down, but her pained cries filled the cold, concrete basement and rattled the cell bars. She sobbed for hours, only falling asleep when the last ones dried.

—

As Dream put the car in park, he turned to face George in the passenger’s seat.

“You ready?” He asked. George exhaled and nodded, “Let’s get her back.”

Dream smirked. His attitude had flipped entirely from last week, leaving him cocky and ready to fight the world. However, George saw through his best friend’s act. He heard Dream’s choked and ragged cries in the bathroom at 4 am, and noticed his red, puffy eyes at 7 am when they woke up. He saw the way his hands shook every time he drove, and he caught onto Dream’s routine of not eating until Sapnap would force him away from the table with the plans spread across it.

George was concerned for his best friend, and Dream was oblivious. But despite everything, George knew he was determined to get Y/n back, above all else. Her life came before his own, and that scared George to his core, how far would Dream go to save Y/n?

“Ok, Geor—” The piercing screams of fire alarms made Dream jump as they echoed down the street. The two boys shared a surprised look before they hopped out of the SUV. They jogged down the road towards the Palm Casino with black duffle bags on their shoulders.

Flames rose as high as the sky and embers rained on Dream and George as they ran through the smoke to the entrance. Employees darted out of the main doors, crashing into the boys as they continued to the central control room of the casino. George heaved the heavy door open before closing it firmly behind them. They dropped the bags and began drinking in the clean air as they set their eyes on Sapnap who sat behind a desk with his feet up on the table.

“Well, boys, how did I do?” He said, arms out as he cocked his eyebrow up. George laughed in disbelief, “I can’t believe that worked.”

Sapnap shook his head quickly, “You had no faith in me, did you?” He threw his hand on his chest and stood up from his spot.

“Sap, you did great!” Dream exclaimed, walking over to slap the boy on the back. Sapnap’s pained expression turned into a smile as he watched George do the same.

“Ok then, where’s the security office?”

—

“I can’t fit my fat ass through there, Sapnap.” Dream’s jaw dropped as he measured the gap with his hands, “There’s just no way!”

George rolled his eyes and pushed Dream towards the duct, “Just go! Do you want Y/n back or not?” Dream’s face scrunched up, much like a child when having a tantrum, and whined.

“Why don’t you just go? I simply just cannot fit! Here, you wanna see?” George and Sapnap nodded, amused looks on their faces as they watched him dive headfirst into the air duct.

His body slipped in in such an elegant way that it made them burst out laughing. Dream, who couldn’t see his friends, exhaled deeply before he began crawling along. His movements heightened their laughter, seeing him wiggle through, but it only made Dream more determined to pursue the journey.

“Oh yeah, you have such a fat ass, Dream! Throw it back for me, baddie!” Sapnap yelled after him, his giggles interrupting the sentence a few times.

George and Sapnap’s antics were long gone, and all Dream could hear was the squeaking of an elevator and the creaking of the metal beneath him. He had memorised the layout of the ducts in his head and decided that this was the spot to drop down into.

The first basement looked usual, with a boiler in the corner and some filing cabinets lining the walls. Dream dropped from the ceiling with no sound, moving silently towards the elevator in the opposing corner of the large room. The sound of shoes slapping the hard ground paused Dream’s movements before he moved quickly behind a cabinet.

“—He said not to go down there, Tubbo. What do you think he’s hiding?”

Dream furrowed his eyebrows, were those kids? He adjusted his mark slightly before he peeked around the corner of the filing cabinet. Sure enough, Dream saw two teenage boys, one significantly taller than the other. But nonetheless, they were definitely very young. Why did Schlatt hire two British kids to guard his secret underground prison? Dream shook his head, glancing down at the floor as he crept out of his hiding spot.

“Oi!” He heard. Dream looked up, seeing the taller boy stalk towards him. The blonde boy stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening as he looked back at the other boy.

“Tubbo, do you know who this is?” The blonde asked in disbelief. The shorter one nodded, his expression lifting at the sight of Dream. Their jaws dropped as Dream exhaled deeply.

“Dream? As in the Dream Team? As in Techno Industries?” Dream rolled his eyes behind his mask. He didn’t respond as the two boys inched closer to him.

“Listen, I’ll give you a few bucks if you don’t mention this to Schlatt, got it?” Dream growled, shoving his hand in his pocket and pulling out a few hundred-dollar bills. The boys’ eyes shone, the shorter one reaching forward to accept the bribe before the blonde pushed him back.

“That’s all? I was expecting at least a grand each from THE Dream.” He smirked. Dream remained expressionless and went to decline before the blonde continued. “It’s a grand each or I tell Schlatt you were snooping around his casino.”

Dream shook his head and pulled another $600 from his pocket and shoved it into their hands, “Now shut the fuck up, or I’ll do it myself.”

The taller one went to reply, but the other one pulled on his sleeve and shook his head. He rolled his eyes and mumbled a string of curse words before turning and stomping away. The other boy muttered a quick ‘thank you’ with a small smile on his face and hurried off in the direction of the staircase that went up to the casino’s main floor. Dream guessed that the fire had been taken care of by the way they fled carelessly up the stairs.

Dream sighed and trod over to the elevator. He pressed the arrow to go down and groaned when the scanner next to it blinked red.

He scrunched up his face when he glanced back towards the air duct. The only other option was to try and get down the air duct and into the rafters in the basement below.

Dream had the urge to throw a temper tantrum at Sapnap’s shitty planning. He pulled himself back up into the duct and crawled towards the wall where the elevator was. Reaching a sharp drop, Dream looked over the edge, his eyes widening at the height. He grunted as he positioned himself above the fall; all he had to do was slide down.

He could hardly see the bottom, but he knew if he slid down as planned, he would go straight through. So, instead, Dream slowly moved his arms and legs into the small space and gradually let himself down, inching closer to the bottom with every move.

Sweat dripped down his temple, and his muscles ached as he went, his palms becoming slippery against the smooth and thin metal. He held his breath as he reached the bottom, scared any sound he made would attract unwanted attention from whoever could be in the vicinity.

He let out a quiet, steady breath, and he returned to his hands and knees in the horizontal air duct. His original plan was irrelevant, so he didn’t know the map of the air ducts in the second basement, leaving him guessing.

Once he thought the spot was right, he harshly pushed on a panel of the duct below him, hearing it clatter on the concrete as it hit the ground. He cringed at the sound and slowly lowered himself onto the beams that were directly below him. How convenient.

The sharp sound of the panel dropping had caught the attention of several guards. On this level, there were actual security guards with weapons and not lippy teenagers. Dream made eye contact with one of them, scolding himself when the man scrambled for his walkie talkie as he spotted Dream on the beams above.

Dream rolled his eyes and dropped from the ceiling, crouching as he landed before standing up. He brought his pointer finger to his lips before bringing his fist to his neck and dragging his thumb across the skin. The action itself made the security guard’s eyes widen and freeze his movements. Dream’s sadistic smile and seemingly wild nature made the guard move backwards into the wall as he passed.

He went around another corner and was met with an entirely different area he wasn’t expecting. But, Dream was sure he was going to succeed in finding Y/n and escaping as soon as possible. And of course, the echo of a sinister whistle made him freeze. Fuck.

“Dream! Hey, buddy, how’s it going?” As Schlatt rounded the corner, a smirk spread across his smug face, Dream squeezed his eyes shut.

“A little friend of mine told me you were here! Just thought I’d come and say hi,” He chuckled as Dream cracked his knuckles. Damn kids.

“Schlatt, where’s Y/n?” Dream demanded, cracking his neck when he jerked his head to the side.

“Now, that’s not a nice way to greet a friend, is it, Dream?”

Dream’s eyes widened behind his mask. He stood stunned, no words coming from his mouth.

“Dream, she’s not yours. She never has been. So why do you think you have to save her?” Dream’s expression remained the same as Schlatt continued, “You’re too pussy to even ask her out, let alone be her boyfriend.” It was a ridiculous argument, Schlatt knew that, but he was positive he was going to get a rise out of Dream this way.

He sneered at Dream’s silence, the deep rumble of his cackle rattling Dream’s bones. Suddenly, a scream added to the ominous atmosphere that Schlatt had created, and Dream jumped into action, launching himself at the older man.

“Where is she?” His voice became raspy as he threw a punch at Schlatt’s temple. Schlatt growled at the attempt and hurled his arm back at Dream. He dodged it, barely, but stepped back and rushed towards the cell Y/n was in.

“Y/n?” He shouted, ducking and searching for the girl through the bars of the numerous cells that lined the basement.

“Here.”

The sound of her broken voice snapped Dream into action. Sprinting down the hallway, he was met with Y/n’s grubby and exhausted body. His heart broke at the sight of her, and he gripped the bars, pulling and pushing them in an attempt to break them.

Dream was so caught up in getting Y/n out, he didn’t notice Schlatt coming from his left.

The impact of a fist colliding with his temple sent Dream stumbling to the right, his mask cracking slightly in the corner at the force. He grunted in pain before spinning to meet Schlatt again, who had his arm raised in its previous position. Dream tried to shake his head from his dazed state, the unexpected hit stunning his consciousness.

Schlatt aimed once again and swung his fist to hit Dream in the face. But, Dream saw it coming and swivelled to the left to dodge the incoming punch. Schlatt let out a guttural sound, growing frustrated with his miss. The hit to his temple left Dream seeing stars; however, he managed to duck and strike Schlatt in his stomach, earning a deep groan. The older man recovered quickly, picking himself back up to his full height as he mumbled, “bastard.”

Dream was losing shamefully, lazily avoiding punches and swaying lightly as Schlatt grinned at his anticipated win.

Whilst Dream stumbled slightly, Schlatt snickered, his fist coming across to hit him again. This time, the punch followed through and cracked his ceramic mask fully, the object dropping to the ground and shattering on impact. Schlatt barked out a laugh as he watched the pieces scatter.

“And here we have, the real Dream! You know, you’re not what I expected. Definitely uglier.” He cackled, doubling over in laughter as Dream watched. He blinked and was void of any emotion as Schlatt stood back up.

“What? Can’t take a joke?” Dream clenched his jaw, and he lunged forwards, his hands coming to grip onto Schlatt’s shoulders and bringing his knee up to jab him in his stomach. He groaned out in pain as he doubled over, yet again, but this time not in joy.

The back of Dream’s belt that held his handgun was screaming at him. So, reaching behind him, Dream revealed his firearm. The weapon had wiped Schlatt’s smug look off of his face, replacing it with one of fear. His expression mocked Dream, although he didn’t catch onto Schlatt’s taunting.

“Dream, listen, buddy—”

“Shut the fuck up, Schlatt.”

But, Dream’s face contorted to something of confusion and horror when Schlatt started chuckling. He pulled the side of his suit jacket to the side to reveal a similar Glock, making Dream freeze his once confident motions.

“You see, I’m always 3 steps ahead of you, Dream,” Schlatt tormented, pulling the gun from its secure place in his jacket.

“You’re fucked now.” Dream went to lunge at him again, but Schlatt stepped to the side and pushed him down.

Dream’s gun went sliding across the polished concrete and out of his reach. The blonde swore as he saw Schlatt stumbling towards his fallen body. He lifted himself off of the ground, panting heavily as he ducked another punch from the older man. Dream stepped back, balancing his weight on his right foot, and threw his fist out towards Schlatt’s cheek. The punch landed, and Schlatt staggered backwards slightly, blood dripping from his lips as he grinned.

“I see how it’s gonna be,” He lifted his arm and aimed the gun towards Y/n, who stood in the cell behind him. Dream leaned to the side to catch Y/n’s pained gaze.

“Please,” Dream’s strained voice was barely audible through Schlatt’s booming psychotic laughter. Clenching his fists, Dream glared at him, “Don’t do this, Schlatt.”

“Oh, Dream, I could do this all day!—” A flat crack bounced off the concrete room and was soon followed by a heavy thud. Dream swallowed in shock as he watched deep red blood spill across the floor, oozing out of the fresh wound. He was frozen in his spot as he watched the body twitch and then loll, unmoving.

“Dream?” Dream’s eyes flickered from Schlatt’s body to Y/n, who stood with his gun loosely in her hand.

“Y/n?” His voice was weak as he struggled to stand. The clatter of the gun dropping on the hard surface didn’t come close to silence the thoughts running through his head.

“Hey, hey, hey, I’m okay, I’m here. Dream?” Y/n cried, wrapping her arms around Dream’s stiff body. His hand came up to feel the wetness on his cheeks, and he pulled it away, seeing red smeared on his fingers.

“He’s gone?” He whispered, earning a nod from Y/n, “It’s okay.”

“No, I know. It just shocked me, that’s all. I thought he killed you.”

Y/n sighed, tightening her grip on him, pressing her face into his shoulder, “I’m right here, see. I’m not hurt, I’m fine, with you.”

Dream turned his head towards her, an unsure expression on his face as he threw his arms around her.

“Fuck, I thought—”

“Dream. Deep breaths.” He nodded, following Y/n’s motions in breathing evenly.

“Jesus, usually you’re the one helping me calm down from something like this,” Y/n giggled, her hand coming to run her fingers through his hair, not minding the dampness of drying blood. A smile broke out on Dream’s face before he noticed Y/n’s eyes widen and her head fly to the side to search for something.

“What’s wrong?” Dream asked, seeing Y/n’s eyebrows crease, “Your mask.” She whispered, spotting the shattered ceramic feet away from where they sat.

Dream breathed out a laugh, bringing her face back towards his, “My mask is the least of my worries right now.”

“I’ll buy you a new one tomorrow.”

“Of course, you will.”

“Y/n!” Sapnap yelled, running towards the girl as she pushed open the security office door. Y/n locked her arms around Sapnap’s shoulders as they embraced, the pair giggling in disbelief.

“How have you guys not been kicked out yet? The fire’s out.” Dream said, closing the door behind them. George shrugged, “Paid ‘em off.” Dream snorted in response.

When Y/n pulled away from Spanap, she hugged George, who was eagerly waiting behind them.

“Don’t do that ever again. You left me with two dumbasses for so long,” George mumbled. Y/n felt tears fill her eyes as she squeezed George tighter, “I missed you guys so much.”

And after a teary reunion, the group sat around the desk in the middle of the room.

“Where’s the big man himself?” Sapnap nervously laughed, dread ate at his conscience at the thought of Schlatt coming after them again.

“Schlatt’s dead.” The news had George raising his eyebrows and pushing his head forward, “Huh? Sorry? What?”

“He’s dead, Y/n killed him.” Dream stated, earning a small smile from Sapnap that Y/n laughed at. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh. Sapnap’s reaction made me giggle.”

The group shared a collective rumble of laughter before Dream suggested they went back to the motel.

“Hey,” Dream whispered at Y/n when she passed him, gently grasping her elbow. “You guys go ahead, I just need to speak with Y/n,” He continued, waving the boys in the direction of the car. George and Sapnap shared a knowing look and tried their best to conceal their cheeky smiles.

“What’s up with them?” Y/n asked, throwing her thumb over her shoulder at the boys. Dream shook his head slightly, “No clue.”

“Anyway, I just wanted to ask how you are. You know, after everything.”

Y/n nodded, “I’m okay, I think. I don’t think anything’s really hit me yet.” Dream sighed in response.

Y/n sucked her lips between her teeth, throwing her arms around Dream’s neck in a hug. He smiled softly, wrapping his arms around her waist.

“Thank you,” She whispered in his ear, her voice cracking with emotion. Dream’s heart clenched at the sound and tightened his grip around her.

“You don’t have to thank me, baby. I’d go to the ends of the earth for you, you know that,” He murmured, hiding his reddening face in her neck. He flushed, even more, when he felt her lips against his neck, “I love you, so much, Dream.”

Dream’s heart skipped a beat before he pulled his head from her neck. His green eyes looked into hers, the closeness of them making Y/n inhale sharply.

“And I love you. Don’t forget that, okay?” He replied, his voice low. Y/n nodded shortly, inching her lips up to his.

“Kiss me.” She muttered, nudging his nose with hers. Dream laughed breathy before leaning down and brushing his lips against hers.

Their bodies had become flushed against one another, her hips against his as they shared a heated kiss. Dream pulled away first, his cheeks pink and his lips plump. Y/n whined silently, bouncing in her heels at the loss of his lips.

Dream smiled widely at her, “I guess I want you more than I thought I did.” Y/n gasped, taking her hand from his neck to slap his chest, giggling like a schoolgirl at his teasing.

“Shut up, you’ve wanted me since you met me,” She said to which Dream nodded.

“You got that right, baby.”

Feedback is greatly appreciated, always xoxo

#dream smp imagine #dream smp imagines #dream was taken #dream was taken imagine #dream was taken x reader #dream x reader #dream team imagine #mcyt imagine #mcyt x reader #dream imagine #dream was taken imagines #minecraft imagine #dream smp x reader #sapnap imagine #georgenotfound imagine #dreamwastaken imagine #dreamwastaken x reader

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mingoyeob-archive · 3 years ago

Note

Can you please do:

53: "We're stuck in the middle of a storm and all you want to do is play in the rain,"

41: "Dance with me,"

61: "If you keep looking at me like that I won't be able to handle myself,"

45: "Take.It.Off"

With Jungkook and reader.💜

Loads of love✨

under the oak tree drabble game ⚔️🌳 to make up for my delayed release of part 3 of under the oak tree i’ve decided to do a drabble game! send me a number + any of the characters from under the oak tree and i’ll write you a drabble :)

thank you so much for sending in a request 💜 💜 I love that you sent in multiple prompts cause it allowed me to really develop the story! I kinda went crazy with it tho, can you call 2.5k a drabble? idk but I hope you enjoy!

53: "We're stuck in the middle of a storm and all you want to do is play in the rain," + 41: "Dance with me," + 61: "If you keep looking at me like that I won't be able to handle myself," + 45: "Take.It.Off" - jjk x reader - word count: 2.5k

Your body swayed back and forth in your seat as the carriage wheeled over bumpy roads and rocky dirt paths. It had you gripping tightly to the underside of the leather seat to prevent yourself from falling to the hard cabin floor. Your gaze stayed trained out the window, watching the trees go by and the rain pouring down creating puddles along the roads. The small drops on the glass had your eyes zeroing on them, watching as they raced back and forth towards the edge of the carriage door. Oh how I tire of this dreadful weather you mused, a frown settling on your face at the thought. Jungkook grunting as if to catch your attention was the only thing that had your head turning away, meeting dark brown pools that filled steely eyes.

“Are you upset with me?”

Any other day his question would have had you scrambling to pacify his concern, but today, your foul mood had you holding your tongue. Of course you were upset, he was taking you to the one place you hated the most - home. Well, what used to be your home, Uwhen felt more like your home now than that place ever did.

You fixed him with a blank stare. “Yes.” you say, voice monotonous and lacking any obvious emotion.

Your blunt response had Jungkook's eyes slowly widening as he registered just how bad he had fucked up. He never would’ve guessed you’d be this upset, he was doing this for you after all. When Jungkook first got the invitation to attend one of your fathers council meetings to oversee the trades occurring with other kingdoms he was completely set on denying the request; he was never one to meddle into things that didn’t directly affect his people. But one of his own advisors, Seokjin, had reminded him that as the new Duke it technically was one of his responsibilities to be there. Plus, according to him, a good opportunity to get you out of the castle.

“If I was her, I’d want to get out of here as soon as possible!” He had said comically, laughing at his own terrible joke loud and squeaky like. Jungkook frowned at the memory.

Had you said something to him about wanting to leave? he had wondered. Even though you hadn’t (you barely even knew the man), Jungkook’s worries continued to spiral out of control and he hastily had sent your father confirmation that he would be there and that he was taking you with him. He hesitated with his response trying to find the right words to make sure he didn’t make the situation worse. “I’m sorry I assumed you would be ha-”

Bang!

Jungkook's apology was interrupted by the loud sound of something cracking, the two of you launching off your seats as the carriage immediately leaned over on its side. The crash had you two falling out of your seats onto creaking wood, bodies crumpling onto one another and limbs draped everywhere. You had let out an oof at the fall, but Jungkook had seemed unfazed and if anything more pissed off than dazed. It took you a minute to gather your bearings, trying to determine which way was up and which way was down, but as soon as you did you realized you were staring directly into Jungkook's eyes, body sprawled across his chest.

It seemed like he had made an effort to try and catch you during the fall and somehow his arm had found its way around your waist, huge hand unintentionally landing directly on your ass. Your face heated up immediately. “Jungkook, your hand.” he just quirked an eyebrow, oblivious to what you were referring to which only served to make you more annoyed. "Take.It.Off"

He looked confused for a second before finally registering where his mischievous hand had strayed. Despite how he was internally freaking out, his hands had calmly retracted and instead moved to your shoulders to lift you back into your seat as if you were as light as a feather, catching you off guard. You could only sit there surprised at the action, watching as Jungkook’s giant figure struggled to stand up in the cabin, neck bending to duck out of the cabin when he opened the door.

“What the hell happened out here?!”

“I’m sorry my Lord, but it seems one of our wheels got stuck in a hole and broke its bearing.” The coachmen muttered embarrassed, cringing at the obvious anger that showed across Jungkook’s face. The driver's words had you sticking your own head out of the door, flinching as the ice cold rain immediately started drenching you.

“Well how long will it take you to fix it?!” Jungkook questioned irate.

The man avoided Jungkook's fiery gaze, rubbing at his neck, “Considering the craftsman isn’t until the next town, I’m not quite sure. We’d have to walk the rest of the way unfortunately and that could take the rest of the day and probably into the night, sir.”

Jungkook let out a groan, obviously upset with the coachmens words. He threw his hands up, turning in his spot to kick at the edge of the broken down carriage only to just notice that you had stepped out into the rain yourself. Immediately he walked over, boots stumping in the mud. “Get back in the carriage Y/N.”

You scoffed, “No way, you heard the man. We’ll have to walk and you’re not leaving me out here by myself to wait for you to return with a damn wheel.” You glared up at him, neck straining to look up and meet his gaze confidently. “Besides I think I can handle a little rain by now.”

“Rain has nothing to do with it. I didn’t plan on leaving you, I’m staying here. He can walk to the town by himself,” The driver let out a sound of alarm at his statement to which Jungkook paid no mind to. “He can send word to your father to get another carriage to escort us the rest of the way.”

“Jungkook, staying here would be the worst thing to do and getting my father involved would just be a nuisance and you don’t want to make him upset, do you? We can just stop at an inn and stay till the morning.” You were obviously trying to stop Jungkook from continuing the journey to your father. But he didn’t know that of course and he actually began to mull over the idea. The two of you stood in the rain for a moment glaring at each other, waiting for one of you to give up. When he realized that he wasn’t going to win, he let out a grunt, spinning on his heel to trudge down the path. The driver stared back and forth between the two of you, confused about what just happened. You just smiled at your plan actually working and followed behind him, satisfied with your accomplishment.

For a while the three of you walked, completely soaked from the relentless downpour with clothes clinging to your bodies. Thankfully it began calming down as you continued on the road, but the mood surrounding everyone was still tense. You could tell Jungkook was still upset as he had never stopped glowering at the forest ahead, eyebrows furrowed and jaw tense. His bristly mood had you sighing, perhaps it was time for you to try and break the ice.

“Jungkook.” you called from behind his towering figure, stopping in your tracks. He didn’t immediately respond, but after realizing you had halted he turned to look over his shoulder, offering you a grunt in question.

“Dance with me.” you say with a smile, beaming despite his obvious annoyance.

He merely arched a brow, finally facing you to stare at you blankly. Jungkook crossed his arms, “What?” he said.

You giggled, “I said dance with me!” you did a small spin in your spot, lips tilting up at the corners as you extended a hand in his direction. He just looked at it, face void of emotion.

“We're stuck in the middle of a storm and all you want to do is play in the rain.”

He sounded dreadfully confused, but that didn’t deter you from your mission. “Yes! In my opinion, mud makes for an excellent dance floor.” your voice dripped with excitement and when he didn’t show any sign of taking your hand you just took it upon yourself to take his hand from his folded arms and pulled him forward (it barely moved him but you get the jist).

Jungkook sighed and tried to stand his ground as you pulled relentlessly on his arms. The sound of your feet splashing in the mud made him cringe but regretfully he started moving to the beat you seemed to have made up in your head. You two spun in circles and moved back and forth down the path, making up your own dance as you went. The coachmen watched amused from the sidelines, clapping along to the two of you to mimic the sound of music. You knew Jungkook was trying to look like he was still upset, but you could tell it was an act and that he was starting to warm up to the idea as you went along. His arms started to loosen and his back started to untense, shoulders relaxing to make it easier for you to pull him along. He was even biting back a smile at the sound of your cute sounds and the hums you were letting out in tune to the drivers rhythm. At that moment Jungkook thought you looked absolutely enchanting.

Despite the hair stuck to your face, the bottom of your dress covered completely in mud and lingering scent of mildewy smelling soaked wet cotton, the drops of water stuck to your long lashes and the flush in your cheeks trumped all of those things. He had never seen you smile so hard or look so comfortable in his arms. Besides the accidental fall back at the carriage, this was the first time you had been this close to him since your wedding night and he could feel the heat radiating from your body, your hearts beating to the same rhythm. He truly felt like you were his.

So he watched as you continued to spin, laughs full of glee escaping past your lips. You even had the nerve to stick your tongue out in an effort to catch raindrops, showing off the long expanse of your throat and jutting collarbones. The sight had something stirring in him. And you must’ve noticed the change in his face because you stopped in your step, smile calming and eyes softening. You could tell he was deep in thought, so you didn’t feel the need to speak just yet. Instead, you just looked at him, eyes gazing up at him and swimming with admiration. Your shining irises peeking up below your lashes had your stare coming off as almost sultry and he felt his pulse quickening. When you picked up on the shift in his mood you decided to speak up. “Is something the matter, Jungkook?” you questioned, looking up with wide eyes. You looked so innocent. He knew it was wrong, but he wanted so bad to corrupt you.

Jungkook pulled you so close you had to strain your neck to stare up at him just before he dipped his head down, lips so close to touching. "If you keep looking at me like that I won't be able to handle myself."

Your breath caught in your throat and your face was full of surprise as you just stared at him speechless. It was almost as if you two were having some type of heated conversation with the way his dark eyes connected to yours. The tension was undeniable. But you two seemed to have forgotten that you guys weren’t the only ones out there on that dirt road, and the sound of the driver clearing his throat had you two stepping apart.

“Are you guys um...ready to keep heading towards the inn?” he mumbled, obviously uncomfortable. The two of you couldn’t answer fast enough.

“Yes!”

#drabble game #under the oak tree #bts #jungkook #bts drabble #jungkook drabble #bts fluff #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #bts x reader

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ectoentity · 3 years ago

Text

Late Night Answers

Ectoberhaunt Day 5: Witching hour vs Twilight

Fandom: Danny Phantom

Rating: G

Characters: Danny Fenton, Kitty, Johnny 13

Tags: Witching hour, ghost culture?

Danny keeps waking up in the middle of the night. The same exact time every night. He decides to take a flight around town and runs into a couple ghosts who're willing to give him some answers.

Read on AO3 here.

Danny’s eyes opened. It was night. Above him, the stars on his ceiling gave off a dim glow. He was still wrapped in his blanket. There was no cold ache in his throat that would indicate his ghost sense had woken him up.

He glanced at his alarm clock. The red numbers read 3:00. Danny grumbled and turned on his side, away from the clock, and tried to go back to sleep. This was the third night this had happened. For the last two nights he’d woken up at exactly three in the morning for no reason. He’d tossed and turned in bed until around four.

This night apparently wasn’t much different. He laid in bed for about ten minutes, but his brain just kept going back to worries about the next day. It wasn’t restful at all. Danny sat up and wiped the sleep from his eyes. If he was going to be awake for a while, he should at least do something useful.

In a flash of light Danny transformed. He flew through the wall into the chilly night air. He could feel the cold against his face, but it didn’t bother him like it would a normal human. There was no moon tonight - it had set before nightfall - but he could see perfectly well. Danny decided to head towards the city park. The night was fairly quiet. There were some cars on the roads, but not very many. Just a few night shift workers and late night travelers.

His ghost sense went off when he was halfway to the park. It felt familiar: kind of spiky but not painful or aggressive. Danny was slowly getting better at identifying ghosts based on how his ghost sense felt, but it was more of an art than a science. He had no idea who this could be. Who would be out at the park in the middle of the night and not causing havoc?

The sound reached him before he saw who it was. A motorcycle revved its engines, and someone shrieked in joy. It had to be Johnny, Shadow, and Kitty. Danny landed near the park fountain. They didn’t seem to be causing much trouble aside from being loud. He sat on the edge of the fountain and waited for them to come around again. It wasn’t long before Johnny’s ghostly bike flew in from the opposite area from where they’d left. As expected, Kitty was hugging Johnny as he did some spins that would have been dangerous if they’d still been alive. They rose up on the front wheel of the bike and spun three times before landing again. Then Johnny pulled into an empty parking spot in front of the fountain.

“Hey, kid,” Johnny called. “Surprised it took you so long to come out.”

Danny shrugged. “Didn’t seem like you were really causing trouble tonight.”

Behind Johnny, Kitty giggled. “You mean the last three nights?” she asked.

That got his attention. Danny floated up into a standing position, though his feet didn’t touch the ground. “What do you mean?” he asked. “What’ve you been doing?”

“Chill out, kid,” Johnny said. He got off his bike and offered his hand to Kitty. She grabbed it and jumped down from the bike. “We’ve just been riding around. Witching hour season, you know how it is."

Danny didn’t know exactly what Johnny meant, but he had a feeling it had to do with why he kept waking up. “I keep waking up at three,” he admitted, settling down to stand on the ground. “What’s that about?”

“How long’ve you been a ghost?” Kitty asked. “Or, whatever you are.”

Danny’s eyes flashed. “A little over a year.”

Kitty put a finger up to her chin. “And you didn’t notice last year? That’s a little weird, with how strong you are.”

“You guys kept me up almost every night for three months straight last year,” Danny grumbled. He was still a little bitter about that. It had ruined his grades. Now that he’d cemented his ownership of Amity Park, ghosts didn’t try to challenge him as much, but it had been a really awful for a while.

“Oh, right.” Kitty at least had the manners to look embarrassed. “Well, this time of night is when we’re more… present, I guess?” She looked at Johnny for confirmation, but he just shrugged. Kitty frowned and looked back at Danny. “The closer we get to Halloween, the more it affects us. I can be out of the Zone a little bit longer, Johnny and Shadow can ride faster, that sort of thing.”

On the one hand, Danny was glad to get some kind of answer for why he kept waking up. On the other… “So I’m gonna wake up in the middle of the night for no reason for a month?”

“Two months,” Johnny corrected. “Sorry, Phantom. It doesn’t just stop on November first.”

Danny sagged. He wiped a hand across his face in frustration. “Great. Thanks for telling me. I guess I could… get homework done,” he said weakly. It sounded like the worst possible thing to do in the middle of the night.

Johnny and Kitty stared at him and then burst out laughing. Danny glared until they quieted down enough to talk.

“Oh, Ancients, you’re such a goody-two-shoes,” Johnny snorted. “That’s awful. No, kid, this is ghost time. You can’t do lame shit like homework.”

“What do you want to do?” Kitty asked. “Really? Do you wanna do homework, or… I dunno, fight people? What do you even do when you’re having fun as a ghost?”

Danny frowned. “I don’t have fun as a ghost.” He gestured to his glowing, jumpsuit-clad form. “I’m only like this when I have to fight ghosts.”

The ghosts shared a glance before looking back at Danny. “That’s really sad, kid,” Kitty said. She brushed a lock of hair back behind her ear. “Do you even know what you’re like as a ghost?”

He blinked at her. “I mean… I’m me? I’m more, uh. Protective of stuff.” He blushed green and looked away. He didn’t really like thinking about all the weird ghost instincts that had popped up over the last year. It made him worry about being less human.

Johnny snorted. “No shit. You spent the last year beating the crap out of anyone who laid a foot in your territory.” Kitty elbowed him in the gut.

“Come on, Johnny, he was just a mote. We weren’t too chill for a few years, either.”

“Ow! Babe, we weren’t… you know!” Johnny waved at Danny, indicating his whole self. Danny raised an eyebrow.

“You did kind of try to take over my sister’s body and then possessed one of my classmates,” he reminded her.

Kitty rolled her eyes. “Yeah, but that was before I knew you were just a kid. Like, really a kid. Most ghosts don’t get near as strong as you in their first year, you know. We both thought you were super old but just acted like you were a kid.”

“Even though my human form looks just like me?” Danny asked, crossing his arms.

“Yeah?” Kitty said with a shrug. “Look, the only other one like you we’d heard about was the old guy. He’s been the same age for like, fifteen years or whatever. Why would we think you were any different?”

A lot of questions crossed Danny’s mind. Did that mean Vlad stopped aging? He knew the fruitloop looked weirdly young, even though he had grey hair, but he figured that was botox or something. Did that mean Danny was going to stop aging in a couple years? He was pretty sure he had grown some in the last year, but what if-

No, he had immediate things to deal with. These two probably didn’t know any of the answers to those questions.

“Okay, so, let me get this straight,” Danny said, “Witching hour is for doing ghost stuff. And I’m supposed to figure out what I like to do as a ghost, so I can do it for a couple months.”

“I guess?” Johnny said with a frown. “Not like we had to figure that out.”

Danny picked up his feet so he was hovering a couple feet above the ground in a seated position, one leg dangling and the other hiked up so his knee was in front of his torso. “I guess I like flying? It’s pretty nice. I can go over a hundred miles an hour.”

“Yeah, we can tell,” Kitty said, a hint of a laugh in her voice. She picked up her legs too so she hovered in a cross-legged position in front of him. “That’s not really a you thing, though, is it? Most ghosts like flying.”

“I still prefer the bike,” Johnny said.

“Objection noted, sweet heart,” Kitty teased. “You like protecting the town, right? Maybe you should fly around to make sure it’s okay?”

It wasn’t a bad idea, but something about it felt sour. “I do that all evening anyway,” Danny grumbled. “It’s not like I hate it, I just… It’s not fun.”

Kitty hummed. Danny was very glad she didn’t poke at that. Fighting ghosts could be fun sometimes, but mostly it was something he felt driven to do. He didn’t enjoy it like he would playing a game, or watching a meteor shower, or…

His eyes lit up. “There’s two meteor showers this month,” he said, remembering it suddenly. “The Draconids are in just a couple of days, and then the Orionids near the end of the month.”

“That’s like shooting stars, right?” Kitty asked.

“Exactly. It's rocks from space burning up in the atmosphere,” Danny said, a smile spreading across his face. Why hadn’t he thought about this before? He could get up above the clouds, away from the light pollution. “I bet I could get the best view in town now.”

“Of course he’s a nerd,” Johnny grumbled. Kitty shushed him.

“That sounds like a great thing to enjoy,” Kitty said to Danny. “Wanna ride with us one day and get out of town? Away from the lights?”

Danny hesitated. “You’d be okay with that?” He glanced from her to Johnny. Kitty seemed friendly enough when they weren’t fighting, but Johnny was the one who drove the bike.

Johnny frowned for a moment. He looked back at his bike. Danny could practically see the gears turning in his head. Finally Johnny turned back to Danny and said, “If it gets us out of this dump, yeah, we’ll take you stargazing.”

Before he knew what he was doing, Danny was hugging Johnny. “Holy shit thank you I haven’t gone in years I won’t let you regret it.”

After a few moments had passed, Johnny gently put his hand on Danny’s shoulder. “H-hey, it’s no big deal, kid.”

Far in the distance, a church bell rang.

“Well, that’s our cue,” Kitty said. “Same time tomorrow?”

Danny straightened up, a little embarrassed that he’d just hugged Johnny of all people. “Yeah. See you then.”

When he made it back to his bed, he fell asleep instantly.

#ectoberhaunt trick #ectoberhaunt 2021 #danny phantom fanfic #my writing #just some chatting #kitty (danny phantom)#johnny 13

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morrigan-writings · 3 years ago

Text

All Aboard; Part 2

Jacob Frye x Reader

Warnings: fight scenes, brief mention of good ol’ victorian child labor

Summary: The Frye twins and Reader have been tasked with their first targets of the London Templars, with Jacob and Y/N going after Rupert Ferris.

A/N: once again, just rewriting a canon scene but adding in a reader insert just until I get the hang of writing AC characters

I sped over to the first pipe I found, leaping between platforms and swinging on overhanging chains to reach my destination. Landing like a cat, I strolled over to the wheel, glancing around for anyone watching before cranking the mechanism closed, internally cringing at the squeal of metal on metal. I then watched as the accompanying machinery started to slow, then finally come to stop with a metallic screech and loud hiss of steam.

Without passing, I immediately flew off towards the next target, noting that Jacob was currently taking care of the second pipe. Silently running past the tiny gasps of surprise and awe from the nearby children who actually spotted me, I skidded to a halt at the last wheel, Jacob arriving a few seconds later. Shifting the wheel into place, we both watched as the last bits of machinery stilled, a momentary silence filling the space.

It was barely a few seconds later that complaints and frightened words started to arise from the workers. We started to make our way back over just as the door was shoved open, and man clad in red marched through. Blighters.

“What’s all this?!” He snarled, looking between the men nearest him. “Which one of you is responsible?”

We paused on the platform just above the gang member.

I raised an eyebrow at Jacob in question. “After you, madam.” He gave a mocking bow as I answered with my own grin.

Turning back to the man below, I gave a half crouch before leaping and activating my Hidden Blade in the same breath. Air rushed past for a moment before I landed solidly upon the man, blade sinking into his neck.

Cries of panic arose from the nearby workers just as Jacob stuck his landing nearby.

“Who- who are you?!” a random worker cried.

Jacob merely sauntered past, joining me at the now open door. “The sanitary inspector.”

Walking through, we were met with two more Blighters, who had unfortunately witnessed the whole display.

“You’re a dead man! Run along home, boy,” the lead man sneered.

I had already slipped on my brass knuckles just as the scrap broke out, Jacob picking the lead as his opponent, myself sprinting at the one right behind him.

I flung my arm out and kept running, my weaponized fist slamming into the man’s chest as I clotheslined him, knocking him back into the wall behind him. Before he could recover his footing, I spun and slammed my heel into the side of his knee, causing him to yell out in pain right as I nimbly leapt just out of arms reach.

However it wasn’t enough to deter him as he whipped a knife from his pocket, limping as he rounded on me. I grinned in response, my hands ready in front of me and ready. Frustrated, he lunged blindly, blade reaching out. I simply leaned to the side, grabbing his knife arm, pushing away from my face, and swinging a jab with my other arm into his elbow. Just as the crack of bone sounded out, I had already released my own blade and withdrew my arm, slashing across his throat as I did so, my opponent finally falling to the stone ground.

Just as I turned to see Jacob finishing off his own match, another Blighter rounded the corner, knife at the ready. Just as he turned towards Jacob’s exposed back, I ran and slid, my feet colliding with his legs, sending him sprawling. I had already jumped to my feet before he himself could recover, kicking the hand holding the blade and swinging my own fist into his chest, hearing the remaining air expel from his lungs.

“Need any help over there, L/N,” more a rhetorical question than anything else, Jacob sauntered over, his own match over.

I stood back up, wiping off my blade as turned towards him. “I do believe that’s now 3 to 1, Frye. Do try to keep up,” I said with smile, already walking over to the large wooden doors across the courtyard.

Failing at some form of retort, Jacob finally came over to help me shove open the two story tall wood doors, revealing a grand view of the rest of the train yard.

“After you, dear,” I gestured to Jacob, repeating his early statement.

He gave his signature devilish grin. “Ferris, here we come.”

For the next 10 minutes it was a careful race though the area, navigating around civilians and workers, slipping around the occasional Blighter, or silently taking them out when avoidance wasn’t an option. Jacob was eager to keep moving, too intent on the end target and leaving me to retrieve any of our throwing knives. Looting some spare change for my trouble kept me from tripping him out of frustration.

Finally we reached one of the bigger warehouses of the yard. Slipping in was easy, but creeping through without being noticed had slightly more difficulty.

Jacob took to skulking around on the ground level, taking out any other gang members as discreetly as Jacob Frye is able; meanwhile I scrambled up a nearby support beam and took to clearing the upper levels.

We had reached nearly the opposite end of the ongoing warehouse when I finally spotted our target from my vantage point on the rafters. After signaling to Jacob, he took no time in climbing up to rest next to me.

“Found him,” I muttered, staring into the windows of the small office suspended on one of the catwalks.

“Ferris?” the twin confirmed.

I nodded. “Shall we?”

A few short moments later, the horrible man once known as Rupert Ferris was now growing cold on the floor. A shiver ran through me as the memory corridor faded, the man having used his last moments to spout more accusations and Templar rhetoric; they were always a touch disorienting.

“It’s time we took our leave, Jacob dear,” I stated as my companion swiped a handkerchief across the Templar’s throat, through the blood dribbling there.

“Right you are” he gave a nod, turning towards the back stairwell. “I believe we have a train to catch.”

The train had barely started moving when we leapt down onto one of it’s carriage roofs. However we weren’t out of the industrial woods yet, as a few sharp yells cut through the air behind us, Blighters having followed us onto the train.

“Impeccable timing’” Jacob muttered.

“After you,” smiling at him, I motioned towards the threat.

It was quick work as before, but with the added challenge of a moving fight ring. Fists and knives flying, it didn’t take too long for the both of us to send our opponents flying off the train, Jacob clearly having the time of his life as he gleefully yelled “Tickets please!” after one of falling victims.

Train passed through a bridge and suddenly a horse-drawn cart dashed by, matching the speed of the machine and driven by two more Blighters.

Jacob only gave a laugh. “Lost your bottle, boys?”

However we watched on in confusion as they didn’t make a move to engage, but rather sped up to a lever by the tracks, using a club to slam it in the opposite direction before driving off.

Our questions were soon answered as the locomotive soon swerved down a different direction of tracks and gave the telltale lurch of someone pulling the brakes in a panic. I watched as the conductor threw himself out of the engine car, rolling over and over in the dirt and rocks, ad we soon saw why.

The tracks needed to bridge a gap, and that bridge wasn’t anywhere near finished.

A quiet “oh no” left my lips at the same time Jacob snatched my hand and yanked it along as he started sprinting in the other direction, hoping we could outrun a falling train.

He had to quickly let go as we started leaping the gaps between cars, bare meters from the edge the machine was launching itself off of, booming crashes and explosions the only evidence of what awaited us below. It all came to a head when we clearly a stack of cargo on an open cart, but as the tie-downs let go, the toe of my boot caught on one of the ropes snapping from the tension. I went down with a cry, Jacob slamming to a halt to try and grab me, barely missing by mere inches before having to grab onto a handhold, my own fingers latching onto the wood slats of the flooring as the cart fell and finally came to a stop dangling over the edge.

“You alright, love?” worry lacing Jacob’s voice as he called down to me.

Glancing up briefly from the wreckage, I gave him an affirming nod. “Well, we seem to have made an unscheduled stop.”

Jacob let out a nerve-wracked burst of laughter as he began to climb down the flooring slats; unfortunately this bit of movement was the persuasion the cart needed to give one last violent lurch downward, the violent motion breaking my grip free as gravity took over.

“Y/N!” the shout wrenched from Jacob, just as I slammed into a new handhold a few feet lower.

“I’m fine, but I really do recommend we get down from here quickly,” speaking around my now very sore ribs, I started to climb my way down, until letting go and dropping onto the mangled roof of one of the carriages.

Jacob immediately followed suit, grabbing onto my hand for each other’s balance as we stumbled and leaped through the burning debris.

We clambered up to the top of an upended carriage, just as it silently swayed under our added weight, giving only a few seconds warning for us to launch off in a panic, hitting the ground hard and rolling right as the beast of wood and metal slammed to the earth mere feet from our landing spot.

Breathing hard and trying to collect ourselves after the entirety of the ordeal, jacob rested a hand on my shoulder where I was bent over slightly, hands braced on my knees.

“Maybe next time, we’ll walk.”

#jacob frye #assassins creed #ubisoft #jacob fraye x reader #jacob fryexreader #frye twins #evie frye #assassins creed brotherhood #assassins creed syndicate #ac syndicate #assassinscreed #assassins creed x reader #reader insert #reader fic #assassins creed fic

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fantastic-rambles · 4 years ago

Text

The Snakes’ Deception

Fandom: Haikyuu!! (@aikk00's Racing AU)

Characters (in order of appearance): Kozume Kenma, Kuroo Tetsurou, Yaku Morisuke, Sakishima Isumi, Daishou Suguru, Fukunaga Shouhei, Yamamoto Taketora, Haiba Lev, other Nekoma members (not mentioned by name)

Warnings: Physical Violence, Language

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: When the Snakes, led by Daishou Suguru, come to challenge Kuroo for the title of Drift King, the Nekoma Crew isn’t going to take that lying down. But when the Snakes start to play nasty, the stakes are raised even further, and Kuroo has to fight to stay calm and prove that he’s the undisputed champion.

[A/N: RIP my dozen other drafts for other stories. I actually was planning to write this a few days before the Daishou art (also by aikk00), except I knew practically nothing about drift racing so I needed to do research, lul. I watched Tokyo Drift, some Initial D, some Grand Tour, and did a lot of reading online on drift racing and drifting in general, but tbh, I still don’t quite understand the mechanics (I don’t drive stick and I can’t go out and learn how to drift), so I apologize if this is horribly inaccurate. :P]

"The road condition looks good today, but it's still a little wet from earlier. Watch yourself going into the turns so you don't end up spinning out. The Snakes will probably do something though, especially since they asked you to race with Sakishima before Daishou. It should be okay when you're in the lead, but be ready to take defensive measures when you're chasing. My guess is that they'll try to take advantage of your skill at closing the gap and your power-over drift to orchestrate some sort of accident," Kenma commented quietly without looking up from his laptop, his fingers tapping away as he inputted a continuous stream of data. He seemed oblivious to the roar of the crowd outside the car, and Kuroo reached over to tousle his black-and-gold hair affectionately.

"Got it, Kenma. Anything else?"

"I know you won't listen, but you should just go all-out from the start. Not your usual way of racing. But if you do end up chasing, just do a normal drift and keep space between you and Sakishima. If they are aiming for an accident, it's more likely to happen when you're on the outside, so it'll slam into your side and Sakishima will be safe. But your numbers look good. I'm just going to tell Yaku-san to put a little more air into your rear tires," Kenma replied, closing the lid on his laptop and pushing open the passenger-side door, letting the sound of cheering and taunts into the vehicle. After he'd left and closed the door, Kuroo rolled down his window to light a cigarette, letting the smoke drift out into the night sky. Kenma hadn't said anything that he hadn't expected--especially with regard to the Snakes--but it was always reassuring to get their analyst's perspective before a race. Kenma wasn't the type to get fired up like the rest of the crew, but that cool-headed analysis was part of the reason they were able to climb so high in the rankings despite not always having the best cars or the best drivers. The ridiculous title of "Drift King" that he'd somehow ended up with was the result of Kenma's work as much as his own.

Still, Kenma was right. Even if it meant getting into an accident, Kuroo didn't intend to change the way he drifted. Part of the thrill of these races was the pure adrenaline high from going fast, especially when there was the risk of injury or even death. It was the reason why he'd mastered the power-over drift so that he could keep accelerating through the turn, and swung close enough to his opponents during his chases to make them panic. Even against the Snakes and their underhanded dealings, he'd show them that his way of fighting was still better, no matter what they threw at him.

He looked up when a shadow fell over him as Yaku leaned over his open window, the electric pump in his hand.

"You're good to go, Kuroo. Go ahead and show off," Yaku shouted over the din. Kuroo nodded, flicking his cigarette out the window and rolling up the glass. Yaku stepped back as he revved the engine, pulling up to the starting line where Sakishima was already waiting. Unlike most racers, Kuroo preferred chasing from the start to throw his opponent off his game. Before he'd inherited the title of Drift King, he'd been known as the Comeback Kid for his knack for overcoming what was traditionally seen as an unfavorable position. But the psychological benefit of overtaking the opponent and the pressure it put on the other racer, in addition to his skill with his clean lines and sharp angles that allowed him to do so consistently, had eventually shot him to the top of the Tokyo drifting world.

At the signal, Sakishima peeled past the starting line, and Kuroo quickly shot after him, staying close to his tail as they sped down the course. Even though his heart was racing, his head was completely clear, every sense focused on the view just beyond his windshield. Both he and Kenma were confident that Sakishima wouldn't try anything until the turn, but that was no reason to relax, especially at the speeds that they were going. Still, nothing happened when they reached the first clipping point, and Kuroo's eyes narrowed as he quickly estimated the distances and speeds between their cars, making his calculations swiftly and throwing himself into a drift just a heartbeat after Sakishima.

And it was perfect. His hand rested casually on the wheel as his tires squealed, sending up plumes of smoke as the tail of his car whipped around the curve, flying nearly parallel to Sakishima. The Snake seemed rattled as he spun into the next turn, turning slightly wide as Kuroo effortlessly stuck to him, their cars nearly touching as Kuroo grinned. It was pretty clear already which of them was the better drifter, not that it had ever been a question.

He let the car carry itself into the third point with just a few adjustments on his side, almost laughing as Sakishima had to drag on his own wheel to make the turn. The perfect chance presented itself almost immediately, and he aimed for the gap in Sakishima's barely controlled swing. But then, suddenly, the other car was spinning out as the Snake overcompensated, an out-of-control, two-ton wrecking ball flying toward him.

Kuroo jerked his wheel, pulling himself out of the drift and spinning out himself, the two cars making donuts on the road until he couldn't tell left from right. But the ominous crunch of metal never came, and when his car finally screeched to a stop, Kuroo slapped himself out of the harness and kicked his door open, stepping out onto the asphalt and casting his glare out at the spectators, looking for one specific slit-eyed face in particular.

"Daishou!" he bellowed, stomping toward the crowd and seizing the Snake by the collar, dragging him over the barrier. "What the fuck was that?"

But the other man just stared at him, all wide-eyed innocence. "'What the fuck' was what, Kuroo-san? Isumi made a mistake. Everyone saw that. He's not used to wet roads, but that's why I asked you to run with him so he could get some practice, because you're the only one good enough to not get hurt if he really fucks up. Like he did."

"Don't give me that bullshit!" Kuroo spun and slammed Daishou onto the ground, making the Snake wince as his back made contact with the asphalt. "That trick had your slime smeared all over it. You wanted to use Sakishima to take me out so you'd win the next run by default. If I hadn't been expecting something like that from you, I'd probably be in an ambulance on my way to the hospital right now."

Sakishima had caught up to them and was now clinging to Kuroo's arm, trying to pull him off while babbling insincere apologies. Kuroo shrugged him off impatiently as Daishou's hands landed on his wrist, trying to make him let go, but Kuroo shook him like a terrier with a rat, the adrenaline and testosterone giving him an incredible high.

"Really, Kuroo-san. Ask anyone. They would all say that it's a normal accident," Daishou protested. "You know these kinds of things happen all the time. But you're okay, Isumi's okay. No harm, no foul, right?"

The crowd was murmuring in the background, but Kuroo couldn't hear what they were saying through the blood pounding in his ears. He was just drawing his fist back to punch that smarmy smile off the Snake's face when a deluge of water crashed over both of them. Sputtering, he looked up to see Shouhei holding an empty bucket, Kenma standing beside him.

"Cooled off, Kuro?" Kenma asked in his deadpan voice as he approached them. "Or should I ask Fukunaga to get another bucket?"

Kuroo grimaced, shaking the water out of his eyes and hair as he leaned back slightly, still not letting Daishou go. Kenma crouched beside him, speaking softly, so that the crowd couldn't hear.

"You know that the Snakes are just like this. To everyone else, this does look like a normal accident. If you go any further, you're the one that's going to get a bad reputation. Right now, we can still pass it off as the heat of the moment. Let him go, Kuro."

"Yeah, listen to your girlfriend, Kuro," Daishou taunted. Kuroo's expression shut down, and he drew back his arm again. But this time, Kenma clung to it, still hissing in his ear.

"Stop it, Kuro. You know that everyone says that. They've been saying it for years. It doesn't mean anything. Stop letting him get to you!"

Kuroo grimaced again, but he listened to Kenma, letting his friend quietly talk him down until he was calm enough to shove Daishou away and get up. Accepting a towel from Shouhei, he tousled his hair dry while glaring at Daishou, who got back to his feet with as much dignity as he could muster.

"Sakishima-san forfeited the run," Kenma continued, still talking in his flat, measured tone. "So you'll be up against Daishou later. Are you up to it?"

"Fuck yeah, I'm ready to beat his ass," Kuroo snarled, and Kenma nodded at Shouhei, who ran across the asphalt to retrieve Kuroo's car. They'd probably replace the rear wheels to be safe, and then Kenma would have to run his checks again, but when they were done, his car would be better than new and more than ready to run the cheating bastard into the ground.

He reached into his pocket to pull out his pack of cigarettes, bending over to accept Kenma's offer of a light, and took a deep drag to steady his nerves. Being emotional during a race was the fastest way to get a ride to the morgue, so he needed to re-center himself. By then, the rest of his team had caught up to him, and Tora's particularly heated spiel about Daishou and his team helped bleed away most of the anger as they walked back to the starting line. Kenma had slipped away at some point, and Yaku was nowhere to be seen, so they were probably working on the car while he settled down. Really, he didn't deserve his friends.

By the time they arrived back at the beginning, the cool night air had washed away the rest of his irritation, which was probably Kenma's intention in making him walk back with the others. Shouhei and Yaku had just finished installing new tires, and Kenma was hunched over his laptop again on the curb, only looking up briefly when Kuroo sat down next to him.

"Thanks."

Kenma shrugged, his face bleached by the light from his screen. "I'm just doing my job."

"I mean earlier."

Kenma shrugged again, and a comfortable silence settled between them, broken only by the clicking of the keyboard. The rest of the team was huddled around the car, making checks and occasionally bringing Kenma more numbers, gradually shifting to sit around their captain and his brain, filling the silence with their chatter as other drifters made their runs.

"Hey, wait! You're playing a game, Kenma!" Lev protested, peering over Kenma's shoulder. "What about the race?"

"Kuroo will be fine," Kenma replied calmly as Kuroo looked over at his screen too, which seemed to be displaying the view through a sniper's scope. "His car's fine, and Daishou wants to beat Kuroo. If he tries the same thing, it'll be suspicious, and even if he did, if Kuroo doesn't spin out again, then Daishou will lose. And Kuroo is better than him, so if he does try anything else, it'd be more likely that he'd mess up and Kuroo would still win. His best chance at this point is a fair fight, and that means Kuroo could drive laps around him all day."

Kuroo grinned, standing up and stretching. "Well then, I guess that's my cue to get ready. I'll see you all at the finish line."

He walked over to his car, standing by the driver's door and just running a hand over the shining, red exterior for a moment. Then, taking a deep breath, he got inside, strapping himself down. The familiar feeling of exhilaration that he got just before a run made him smile as he pulled into place behind the next pair of cars, watching out of the corner of his eye as Daishou pulled up next to him.

And then, soon enough, they were flying down the road, Kuroo chasing again, keeping the pressure on his opponent. As Kenma had said, there was no way for Daishou to beat him, and he proved that as he took the lead at the very first bend, hitting the edge perfectly while gunning his engine through the whole course, making the best run that he'd probably ever done and leaving Daishou in his dust. If it was possible, he was even sharper on the turns than he had been against Sakishima, pushing himself and his car to the utmost limit. And there was no better feeling than watching the Snake come up to him to shake his hand after his loss, smiling like it hurt his teeth.

"As expected of the Drift King. But it won't last forever. Someday, someone will knock you off that throne."

And Kuroo had smiled back, the smirk that he knew infuriated Daishou more than anything else.

"Come at me whenever you want. I'll beat you down every time."

[A/N2: This isn't KuroKen. They're just really good childhood friends, so Kenma knows how to calm Kuroo down because they've been part of each other's lives for so long, and Kenma in particular is good at paying attention to people. Kuroo gets pissed at Daishou for calling Kenma his "girlfriend" not because of the implication that he's "whipped" (because Kuroo is perfectly secure in his masculinity), but rather because I have a headcanon that Kenma got teased a lot for being "girly" (weak, thin, kinda androgenous, etc.) growing up, so Kuroo still gets upset when that's used to insult his best friend (even though Kenma honestly doesn't give a fuck). But they're not in a romantic relationship; they just spend a lot of time together.

Of course, if you wanna interpret it as KuroKen, that's your prerogative, but that wasn't my intention in writing this.]

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#hq #hq!!#hq racer au #fan fic #fanfic #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo tetsuro #kuroo #daishou suguru #daisho suguru #daisho #daishou #nekoma #mine #at least i finally wrote something lol

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wellimaginethat · 4 years ago

Text

Quite the Scare

Pairing: Matt Casey x (female) Reader

Requested?: Yes

Word Count: 2083

Author’s Note: Another Matt request! Yay! I love him

Trigger Warning(s): Injury, near death, mention of an argument, a child is injured as well (but saved)

Disclaimer: I don’t owe nor am I affiliated with any of the Chicago shows, I just like to play with the characters

Summary: Y/N and Matt have been dating for about a year and have been living together for a few months. One night they have the biggest fight of their relationship and Y/N leaves and goes to stay with a friend. A week later, while she’s working, Matt is rushed in to the hospital after being severely injured.

Y/N = Your Name

You couldn’t even remember what started the fight. Just that it started and quickly spun out of control. You remember running out of your shared apartment and that Matt didn’t try to stop you.

You went to your best friend’s house, showing up in tears. She swore that she was gonna kick his ass and was halfway to the door before you managed to stop her.

Sarah comforted you and told you that you could stay with her for as long as you needed.

Only problem was that you didn’t grab anything.

You knew when Matt’s next shift was, so you went to grab some stuff and then went back to your friend’s house.

A week passed by and you hadn’t heard from Matt, which made you worry. You two had been living together for nearly a year now, and things were going fine. Sure you fought every once in a while, but it was usually nothing. And nothing like this ever happened. The two of you usually cooled down and made up, but this time was different.

You knew that maybe you shouldn’t have run out, and at first you were just too proud to go back, but now you were too heartbroken. It had been an entire week and he hadn’t come to see you, or called you, or even texted you. Maybe he didn’t love you anymore.

You pushed those feelings aside as you got ready for another shift at the hospital.

When you got to the hospital, however, you were immediately plagued by the feeling that something bad was going to happen. You could feel it in your stomach.

Hours passed and everything was fine, and then the ambulance showed up. You were immediately greeted by two patients being wheeled in from a fire, a man and his young daughter, with her being in the worst condition.

You could hear him pleading with anyone who would listen to save his daughter, and your heart hurt.

You rushed over to help, but then your eyes landed on the firefighter being brought in behind them. Your heart sank, and the minute you recognized who it was, it broke completely.

You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

You tried to catch your breath.

Pulling yourself back to reality, you knew that you couldn’t tend to him given your relationship, so you headed over to one of the other patients. “Let me know his condition asap.” You told Connor before disappearing, off to operate on the little girl.

You forced yourself to focus on what you were doing and to keep your mind off Matt, but it was hard to do.

Somehow you managed to go about your job and finished the surgery, ultimately saving your patient.

As soon as you were done, you walked out of the OR and you were met by Connor standing there. Immediately you felt a pit in your stomach as your eyes met his. “Is he-”

“He’s alive.” Connor assured you.

You let out a breath you didn’t realise you had been holding.

“He’s in critical condition though.” Connor added gently, knowing how worried you must be.

You swallowed hard. “Do you think he’s gonna be okay?” You asked timidly. “I want your honest opinion.”

Connor watched you for a moment, he knew you were a smart doctor and that you would figure it out eventually, but he still hesitated. “The next twenty four hours are crucial, but overall he’s in good condition, all things considered.”

You swallowed hard again and nodded.

As soon as you could you went to see him, he looked bad. You slowly stepped into the room and over to his bedside. Gingerly, you picked up his hand and very gently stroked the back of it with your thumb.

He was unconscious and intubated, and you knew that he most likely couldn’t hear you, but that didn’t stop you from talking to him.

“God, Matt.” You breathed out, tears stinging your eyes. “What happened to you?” You asked quietly, looking at his face. “I’m sorry about the fight.” You spoke after a moment. “I shouldn’t have left, or I should have at least come back, but I wanted you to chase me. I know that sounds so immature and stupid, but it’s the truth. I wanted to know that you still wanted me.” You sniffled and a few tears trickled down your cheeks. “I love you and I still want you, so please don’t die on me.” You begged. “Please, I’m not strong enough to lose you.”

You stayed there as long as you could, sitting in that chair next to his bedside, until Connor came in.

“You should go home and get some rest.” Connor told you gently, his hand on your shoulder.

“I can’t leave him.” You said monotonously.

Connor shook his head. “It won’t do him or anyone else any good with you being here and not getting any rest.”

You sighed, you knew he was right, so you nodded and stood up. You didn’t wanna leave Matt, but you knew you should try to get some rest. You leaned over and kissed Matt’s forehead. “I love you.” You whispered to him before turning and walking out. You stopped by the nurse’s station. “If Matt Casey’s condition changes in any way, I want to be notified asap.” You informed them in a polite but firm tone. You were met with a few nods before you finally left.

You went back to the apartment you shared with Matt and it just felt so cold and different. You were worried you’d be met with your stuff packed up by the door, but you weren’t, everything was the same.

The first thing you did was take a shower and change into some comfy sweats and a t-shirt that would work for bed, but also stuff you wouldn’t mind being seen in public wearing in case something changed in Matt’s condition.

After your shower, you decided you’d better eat something which is when you went to the kitchen and found the post-it note on the fridge.

Y/N- If you come back and I’m not here, please wait for me. I want us to talk and work this out, I love you and I miss you. Love, Matt

That was enough to cause the tears to spring to your eyes again, and next thing you knew you were on the kitchen floor crying your eyes out.

You didn’t know how long you were like that, whether it was five minutes or two hours, all you knew was that when your phone rang and you sprung up to get it, your body was stiff with fatigue.

You answered your phone quickly, worried. You were greeted by April’s voice telling you that Matt was awake.

“I’ll be right there.” You hung up after saying that and hurried to the door to put your shoes on, you were at the hospital in record time and rushing in.

When you walked into his room, you paused at the door seeing the others there with him.

“Hey guys, why don’t we give them a minute?” Herrmann spoke up, shifting his stance before beginning to herd the others out. They all looked at you, but you were too focused on Matt to register their feelings behind them, until Herrmann finally headed out and gave you a gentle, caring smile.

You returned it before slowly walking into the room and over to Matt’s bedside. “You know the limit on visitors is only two people, right?” You asked, chuckling softly, you were trying to use humor to ease the situation, since the last time the two of you talked you were screaming ‘go to hell’ at him. “Then again, I know how they are. You guys are a tight knit family, so I’m not surprised they were here with you.”

“I was told that you had to be kicked out.” Matt spoke out, his voice quiet and even, a little hoarse from being intubated.

“You seem to be doing much better than you were when I was here earlier.” You commented, chewing on the inside of your cheek a bit, fiddling with your hands.

“Y/N-” Matt started, causing you to look at him. “I’m sorry about the fight.”

You let out a relieved breath. “I am too.” You said softly, taking a seat on the edge of his bed and picking up his hand. “And I’m sorry for leaving like I did.”

Matt’s eyes met yours and he just stared at you for a moment. “Will you come home?”

You smiled softly and nodded. “Yeah.”

Matt smiled. “Can’t believe it took me almost getting killed to get you to come back.”

“It didn’t.” You shook your head. “It just took you asking me to come back.”

He looked at you in shock then. “All I had to do was ask?”

You nodded. “Pretty much. Neither of us were innocent in the fight, but neither of us were completely at fault either. All you had to do was ask me to come back, let me know that you wanted to work things out.” You said softly. “But, I could have done the same. I could have let you know that I wanted to work things out too.”

Matt nodded slowly.

You fell silent for a moment, staring at his hand in yours. “I found your note.” You said softly.

“You did?” Matt asked softly, knowing that meant you had already gone back to your apartment, which made him happy.

You nodded. “I did.”

“I put it there right after you left.” Matt admitted with a small smile. “I really have missed you, so much.”

“I missed you too.” You said softly, gently squeezing his hand. “How are you feeling?”

“Happy.” Matt answered you.

You looked at him. “You know what I mean.”

“Sore.” Matt sighed.

“You gave me quite the scare, what happened?” You asked softly, not sure you wanted to know but at the same time feeling like you needed to.

“I got distracted.” Matt told you. “A beam fell on me, knocked me out and then the next thing I know, I’m waking up here.”

“You got distracted?” You asked softly, raising a brow.

“We were getting ready to pull out and I heard a child.” Matt told you softly.

You gasped, eyes widening.

“She’s fine, they got her and she’s fine-”

“I know.” You cut him off softly. “She was my patient.”

Matt smiled at you. “So you’re the one that saved her.”

“It was a team effort, if you hadn’t heard her, she wouldn’t have been brought in for me to save.” You told him with a soft smile.

He returned the smile. “I’m glad she’s okay.”

“Me too.” You agreed, nodding.

When Matt was eventually released, you drove him home to recuperate. It didn’t feel weird being there this time, the coldness seemed to dissipate and was replaced with the warm, inviting feeling you always felt. It felt like home again.

“So where did you go when you left?”

“Sarah’s.” You answered. “She wanted to kick your ass, by the way.”

Matt snorted. “Of course.”

“Although she said the universe did that for her.” You laughed a bit. “She’s glad you’re okay and that we’re okay.”

Matt smiled and pulled you over to him. “We’re more than okay.” He whispered, leaning in to kiss you gently.

You pulled back slowly. “Don’t scare me like that again, please.”

“I’ll try not to.” Matt told you.

You were both aware that it would most likely happen again, but you knew that when you started dating and you learned to deal with the worry.

“Good.” You responded after a moment, kissing his cheek lightly before moving to the kitchen.

“Where are you going?” Matt asked, quick to grab you again, his arms wrapping around your waist.

“The kitchen to make us something to eat.” You responded.

“Let’s just order in, I’ve gone too long without you in my arms.” Matt responded as he placed a tender kiss to your neck.

You giggled softly and turned in his arms. “You need to rest.”

“I will.” Matt responded with a smirk.

You looked at him for a moment before smirking back. “So what are we ordering tonight? Pizza?”

“You can pick.” Matt told you.

“Well I obviously want pizza.” You responded with a small laugh, your arms wrapping around his neck as you leaned in for another kiss.

#matt casey x reader #matt casey imagine #matt casey imagines #chicago fire imagine #chicago fire imagines

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mascwhump · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 17 - Video Killed the Shooting Star

I changed my format a little bit. Let me know if you hate it and want me to go back to the old one.

BTHB: Tied to a chair

TW: Blood, knives, caning.

Tag list: @whatwasmyprevioususername @milk-carton-whump @whumpasaurus101 @whatwhumpcomments @mnmlover2002 @ashintheairlikesnow @badthingshappenbingo

A faint tingling in Charlie’s neck jolted him awake. He sat up quickly, and found himself being laughed at by both Mallory and Rudy.

“See? It’s great,” Mallory said as he turned off the current. Charlie narrowed his eyes at them as he reached up to gently rub his temples.

“Come on, Charlie. We’re going upstairs while Rudy does some work down here,” Mallory said. Charlie slowly got to his feet on his own accord and followed Mallory upstairs. He wondered what he meant by “work”. A large crate was sitting in the hall by the garage door, and Charlie took a long look at it as they passed by.

“Sit,” Mallory spoke as he pulled a chair out from the dining table. Charlie sat down and waited. Mallory set a plate of toast and a glass of milk in front of him, then went back down into the basement. Charlie nibbled on the toast; his lip stinging as crumbs found their way into the cut. He could hear a drill going downstairs.

He finished his meager meal and waited for Mallory to re-emerge. The collar was digging into his skin. He tried to get a finger between it and his neck to relieve some of the pressure, to no avail. Mallory finally came back after a few minutes and instructed Charlie to follow him into the garage.

A metal folding chair sat in the middle. A camera fixed atop a tripod was directly across from it. Just as Mallory instructed Charlie to sit down, Rudy opened the door, carrying the crate. He dropped it next to the workbench and flipped open the top. Then, he pulled a handful of zip ties from his pocket, and secured Charlie’s wrists behind his back and his ankles to the chair legs.

“We’re going to make a video to send to your friends,” Mallory said. He turned on the camera and adjusted the zoom.

“Say hello,” he said.

“Hello,” Charlie croaked, avoiding looking into the camera. Mallory stepped next to him and grabbed his jaw, forcing his head to face the camera.

“Anything you want to say to them?” Mallory asked.

“Um, I’m doing fine, guys. I hope you are, too,” Charlie spoke.

His throat was dry and started to become tight. Rudy wheeled the workbench closer, just out of view of the camera. It blocked Charlie from seeing the crate. Rudy began to dig in it, and Mallory turned to face Charlie.

“Rudy’s going to pick two objects from the crate. You’re going to pick one,” he said. Charlie shook his head slightly before stopping himself, changing it to a nod. Rudy set a thin black wooden stick on the workbench, along with a knife.

“Go on, then. Pick one,” Mallory insisted. Charlie took a deep breath.

“The... whatever that is. That stick thing,” Charlie mumbled.

“It’s a cane,” Mallory remarked, picking it up. Rudy pulled out a pair of dice and threw them down.

“Seven,” he said.

Mallory looked into the camera before raising the cane and bringing it down on Charlie’s chest. Charlie hissed, and was given no time to recover between the next six hits. Each was worse than the last, and some drew blood. Charlie breathed heavily as he looked down at his chest. The new wounds added to the previous ones from last night. When he looked up, Rudy had set a pair of pliers next to the knife.

“Choose,” Mallory spat. Charlie considered the pliers. All he could imagine was his tooth getting ripped out. He decided to take his chance with the knife. Mallory spun it around in his fingers while Rudy rolled the dice.

“Four,” Rudy said. Mallory put the tip of the knife against Charlie’s left shoulder, then dragged it down, applying light pressure. Charlie clenched his teeth as his skin was cut. Mallory moved the blade to his other shoulder and made an identical cut before putting it against his right cheek.

Charlie squeezed his eyes shut as the blade dug in. Finally, Mallory made one last slice on his sternum. Charlie watched the blood slowly trickle out of the cuts and drip down his body. The last item added to the workbench was a piece of cloth.

“What is that?” Charlie asked.

“Choose it and find out,” Rudy replied.

“Um... alright. That, then,” Charlie said.

“Two. Dammit,” Rudy said after rolling the dice. Mallory picked up the cloth and wrapped it over Charlie’s eyes.

“What’s the number mean?” Charlie asked.

“You get to wear it for two hours,” Mallory answered.

Charlie exhaled through his nose as Mallory walked away from him. Rudy moved in front of him to cut the zip ties from his ankles, resting his hand on Charlie’s knee as he bent down. Charlie kicked his leg up to get him to move his hand away. Rudy laughed as he dug his nails in and cut the zip ties with his other hand. He moved to Charlie’s back and cut him lose.

Charlie stood up and spun around, blindly throwing his fist at Rudy. He managed to land a hit right to his cheek. Rudy shoved him, and he tripped backwards over the chair before ending up on the ground.

“What the hell?” Mallory questioned.

“He hit me!” Rudy exclaimed.

“Well, suck it up,” Mallory replied. He lifted Charlie back to his feet and lead him out of the garage. He then guided him down the stairs and over to the wall. Charlie could hear a chain rattling, and Mallory slid the collar around so the loop was at the back. Charlie coughed as it choked him slightly. Then, Mallory attached the chain to the loop.

“This is what he was working on,” Mallory explained, “He attached a little hook to the wall so I could keep you in place.” Charlie reached up and tugged the chain to get a sense of how long it was. Rudy roughly grabbed his arms and pulled them behind his back again, rejoining them together with another zip tie.

“So you don’t take the blindfold off,” he said, his voice a vicious tone.

“Should we order lunch?” Mallory asked.

“Oh god, yes. I’m starving,” Rudy replied. They ordered something for delivery, and Charlie could hear glasses being moved.

“None for me, thanks. I’m a bit sick of being hungover,” Mallory said. The two discussed business related things by the bar. Charlie didn’t care to listen. He sat down on the carpet and zoned out.

Their food soon arrived and they ate at the bar. Based on the amount of liquid being poured, Charlie estimated that Rudy was on his fifth drink by the time they finished. His speech was slurred, and it was obvious by the tone of Mallory’s voice that he was becoming annoyed.

“I’m going to wash these dishes,” Mallory said, “I’ll be back in a moment.” Charlie became nervous. He hated being around Rudy, anyway, but now, he was alone with him. His heavy drunken footsteps moved around the room in a seemingly random way. Charlie listened closely until he could hear him breathing in front of him.

“You think you’re a tough little shit, don’t you?” He growled, roughly grabbing Charlie’s chin. Charlie jerked his head away and kicked his legs out, managing to land a kick to Rudy’s shin.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” Charlie spat. He could smell the alcohol emanating from him. Rudy smacked him hard before stumbling away into a different part of the basement.

Mallory called him upstairs soon after. Charlie breathed a sigh of relief once he was finally alone. The stinging pain from the various cuts and welts made them impossible to ignore. He shifted uncomfortably, trying to find a position that didn’t hurt. Mallory returned, alone, after awhile.

“Guess what? The camera died right after I began filming,” he said.

“Please don’t make me do it again,” Charlie mumbled.

“I won’t. Not today, at least,” Mallory replied, “Rudy’s going to nap off the alcohol before he leaves. Then, I’ve got a few ideas as to what we can do later.”

He ruffled his fingers through Charlie’s hair before leaving. Charlie ended up falling asleep from the physical exhaustion, his head slumped forward as much as the collar allowed.

Fandom: Original Characters

#easton’s unnamed story #oc #whump #whump oc #whumpee #whumper #whump story #bthb #bad things happen bingo

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collapsingintojupiter · 4 years ago

Text

At Least I’ve Got You

The prompt for this one was drunk prinxiety, with the lines “I’m too sober for this.” ; “No. Regrets.” ; “How drunk was I?” ; and “Welcome back. Now fucking help me.”

Characters: Virgil, Roman, Patton, Logan

Relationships: The four are best friends and Virgil/Roman are dating. So this is for all you Prinxiety fans.

Warnings: Alcohol mention, injury, and cursing. Let me know if I need to add anything else.

...

"I'm just trying to help you look out for yourself! I wasn't trying to--"

"Well stop helping me! I'm sick of being babied like this, I'm not a fucking child!" Virgil snapped. "Just leave me alone!"

"But...kiddo--"

"I am NOT your 'kiddo!' Don't call me that!"

"Virgil…" He stiffened as Patton's hand touched his shoulder.

"Get away from me!" Virgil snarled and lashed out with one hand, forcefully shoving Patton away and storming towards the door.

"Wait, where are you going? Virgil please--"

He slammed the door behind him and ran into the street, Patton's wounded voice echoing in his ears as he desperately tried to get away from the house and its occupant. Then he suddenly stopped, the realization of what he'd just done smacking him in the face as if a car had hit him. Oh my God...I just hit Patton...I just hit my best friend...he swayed on his feet, turning back to his friend's house, then froze.

I can't go back there.

I can't face Patton. Not after I just did that...

Virgil stumbled forward across the street and tripped over the curb, collapsing into a heap on the sidewalk. He growled and pounded a fist into it, then scrambled to his feet once again. WheredoIgowheredoIgo...Gotta get out of here. Now.

"What's this? My dark and stormy night is...out during the day?"

Oh no. Not right now. Virgil groaned and turned around.

"What do you want?"

"Whoah, you look like someone just ran over your puppy. Are you alright?" Roman's expression quickly twisted into a look of concern when he saw his boyfriend's uncharacteristically stricken face.

"It's nothing," Virgil growled. He started walking again, but Roman would not be deterred. He raced after him, matching the storm cloud's pace once he caught up.

"Right, and I'm the king of France. C'mon, you can tell me anything Virge! You know I'm here for you!" Virgil leveled a glare at Roman, who stared back at him with that stupidly cute face of his, then sighed in defeat. His boyfriend raised an eyebrow, unsure as to whether or not his victory was certain yet.

"I got in a fight with Pat," he stated bluntly.

"With Pat?" Virgil winced when he saw the expression of bafflement flutter across Roman's face. "But...but how? You two are like...best friends...since like forever!" he spluttered.

"He worries about me too much." Well, there's probably a better way to say it than that...

"You do realize that he's not the only one who's worried about you..." Roman said slowly. He seemed more hesitant than normal, and Virgil looked back at him in confusion. "Pat's just...the most open about his concern for you."

"Oh, don't you get all sappy on me too," Virgil grumbled.

"You know I'm right, Surly Temple." Virgil hissed and shoved Roman, who easily recovered and flashed him a smile, dropping the serious expression in an instant. He was good at that; a good actor. Not to mention cute.

"I'm too sober for this," Virgil growled.

"Too sober for what?" Roman glanced at his boyfriend, one eyebrow raised.

"Talking to you." Roman grinned.

"I can fix that."

"Please."

---

Roman hummed to himself as his old red pickup truck bumped up one of the area's many mountain roads, one hand on the steering wheel while the other was wrapped around a can of booze. Virgil was curled up in the passenger seat, quietly staring out at the scenery as he sipped from an identical can.

"I don't feel like I deserve to be friends with Patton sometimes," he said suddenly, shaking his head. His tone had completely changed from the anger of earlier, and Roman glanced back at him as he spoke. Virgil sounded almost...sad. "He's always so nice to me, you know? And he's always concerned about me and checking up, asking if I've been eating..."

"That's what friends do, Virgil," Roman answered gently. "They care for each other. And you--" he set his can down in the cupholder and gently bumped Virgil's shoulder with his fist "--certainly are lucky to have someone that's so concerned about your well-being."

"I keep messing it up."

"You're human. Humans aren't perfect, you know. Not even me." Roman grinned.

"Mmmm." Virgil sighed and leaned back, neither answering his boyfriend nor acknowledging his awful joke. Instead he looked like he was thinking, that or perhaps he was about to fall asleep.

"Don't crash on me yet, we're almost there," Roman warned him.

"Mmmph."

"You're coming star-watching with me if I have to drag you up that mountain. Don't test me." Virgil rolled his eyes and finished his can of beer, reaching for another.

"Why are we going to look at a bunch of dumb stars anyways?" He asked grumpily.

"Because they're pretty and I know you like them even if you spend all your time pretending that you don't."

"Falsehood!" Virgil shouted, borrowing from their friend Logan's vocabulary for a moment. Maybe he really was out of it, he never did that. "I just think they're boring is all."

"Liar."

"Hssssss."

Roman only grinned, shook his head, and tipped the last of what remained in his beer can into his mouth. "Can you hand me another one?" He asked.

"We're out."

"Check under the seat." Virgil checked and let out a whistle.

"Fuck yeah," he hissed, grabbing two more cans; one for Roman and one for himself. Before he could right himself, however, Roman spun the steering wheel and the truck swerved, Virgil letting out a strangled yelp as the truck bounced off the road and into a tiny little parking area overlooking a cliff.

"We're here!" Roman announced.

"Bitch, gimmie a warning next time!" Virgil's angry voice sounded muffled.

"Maybe if you'd wear a seatbelt this wouldn't be a problem."

Virgil glared up at his boyfriend from where he was now crammed onto the floor beneath the truck's dashboard, his shoulders wedged into the small area between the seat and dash where the door was. Somehow, the two beer cans were still safe in his hands. Roman smiled sweetly and took both, before sliding out of the truck and coming around to open the door. Immediately Virgil tumbled out of the tight space, landing in a heap on the gravel lot.

"I hate you," he snapped.

A can was pressed into his hands.

"Nevermind." Virgil allowed Roman to help him to his feet, a little surprised when he pulled him in for a hug but allowing it nonetheless. Yeah, he was really out of it.

"Everything hurts," he muttered.

"I'll carry you."

"You wha--" Virgil's question was cut off by another yelp when Roman suddenly swept him off his feet in one swift motion, carrying him bridal style to the back of the truck. Somehow he managed to open it, though Virgil wasn't sure how given that he was already juggling a beer can and a human being. He didn't ask, though.

"This right here..." Roman grunted as he set his much smaller boyfriend down, then climbed up onto the truck beside him, "...is what I meant. Not wearing a seatbelt could get you killed, Virgil. You can't keep doing stuff like this to yourself."

"Mmmph," Virgil hadn't moved from where Roman had set him down, not wanting to upset any of his bruises.

"You're cold aren't you?"

"Definitely not." Roman sighed, moving forward and opening the window to the back of the truck. He reached in and pulled out a blanket, tossing it to Virgil. His boyfriend didn't try to catch it but Roman saw his face light up when it landed on him--though he'd deny it off course--before he grabbed it and pulled it over his body.

"Thanks."

Roman came back and sat down cross-legged next to Virgil, unable to hide his smile when the other boy shifted so that his head was in his lap. He absentmindedly ran a hand through Virgil's hair as they watched the stars come out one by one, sipping at their beer and enjoying each other's company in silence.

After a while, however, they started to chat. They talked about a lot of things; the past, the present, the future, their friends and family; hopes and dreams. Virgil seemed to forget about being cold and ended up perched on the roof of the truck, laughing at one of Roman's stories from middle school while he dramatically reenacted it on the truck bed. Once he'd finished Roman suddenly seemed to get very serious, and then a crazy smile slowly spread across his face.

"Virgil, have you ever flown before?" He asked. His speech sounded funny and slurred even to Virgil's fuzzy brain, and he shook his head.

"We don't have wings, you idiot."

"Oh you won't need wings for this."

"Need wings for wh-AT THE FUCK, ROMAN!" Virgil's unholy shriek pierced the air as Roman clumsily charged forward and crashed into him, sending the pair flying over the edge and down the steep embankment that waited beyond the truck bed. They rolled and tumbled and twisted and screamed until they finally came to a stop; Roman when he collided with a tree and Virgil when he got tangled in an impossibly huge bush.

"I DID IT! I FLEW! VIRGIL DID YOU SEE THAT?"And that was the last thing Virgil remembered before everything faded into darkness.

---

He was the first to awaken some time the next morning. Virgil only knew it was morning because the birds were singing and his back felt warm; his hood which had somehow ended up yanked over his face made it impossible to see anything at all. Everything ached and Virgil's fuzzy mind couldn't decipher why that was at all until he tried to move. A streak of pain shot up his leg when he tried to pull it towards his body and he hissed, confused by the crackling sound that followed the movement.

Are those...leaves? Am I sitting in a bush?

He tried to move his arm and discovered that, while it ached too, no shooting pain accompanied it when he pulled it towards his face. Something--or rather, multiple somethings poked and snagged at his sleeves, but he finally got his arm where he needed it to be and managed to pry his hood away from his face.

Something he instantly regretted.

"FUCK, MY EYES!" Virgil shrieked, throwing his hands up to protect them as sunlight exploded in his vision, bright and hot and painful. A headache quickly throbbed into existence behind his forehead.

"Virgil? You're alive!" Roman's happy but pained yelp from somewhere--he wasn't sure where--only made the headache worse, and Virgil groaned.

"Welcome back. Now fucking help me," he growled with all the strength he could muster. He heard thrashing nearby and then something touched his shoulder.

"How drunk was I? What the hell happened?"

"You pushed me off a fucking cliff, you idiot!"

"I did?" Roman sounded appalled. "I don't remember that at all!"

"Does it look like I pushed myself? My fucking ankle's dead and it's your fault!"

"Okay okay, shut up and hold still. I'm gonna try and untangle you, save the complaining for later."

"Cause I was gonna do what? Go for a stroll?"

"Remember the shut up part." Virgil hissed but didn't say anything more as something grabbed his arms and gently helped pry him loose from the bush, hauling him up so that he and Roman were standing side-by-side. Virgil kept all his weight on his good leg and his gaze on the ground away from the awful sunlight, slowly shaking his head. Everything was throbbing. His eyes were throbbing.

"I think that was the dumbest thing I've ever seen you do," he muttered. Roman laughed.

"No regrets!" he shouted, pumping a fist into the air and wincing at the pain that brought him. "Wish I remembered it though."

"How about I give you some regrets?" Virgil snapped. "How the fuck are we gonna get up this now? By levitating?"

"I'll help you. Lean on me and I'll help support your weight."

"Fantastic. We're gonna die."

"Oh shut up, we're not gonna die." Roman helped support his boyfriend and together the pair struggled up the muddy slope, Virgil cursing his bad luck every two seconds and Roman holding back laughter wherever he spotted flattened patches of foliage that either he or Virgil must have crashed through. Virgil's ankle could hardly support any weight and as they tackled the climb Roman grew increasingly worried that they might not reach the top, and end up having to call someone instead. If they had service. Roman didn't say anything about his worries out loud though, not wanting to scare Virgil any more than he already had.

When they got back to the truck Roman let out a shout of excitement that startled Virgil so badly he nearly fell down the cliff again, but his boyfriend caught him before that could happen.

"Sorry," he muttered sheepishly, ducking his head to avoid the death glare that was now resting on him.

"One of these days I'm going to kill you."

Roman opened his mouth to reply, but before he could he realized that his truck wasn't the only one parked in the lot anymore. A small silver car was now sitting next to it, two familiar faces seated in the driver's and passenger's seats. The one in the driver's seat nudged the other one, who looked to have fallen asleep, when he saw the pair approaching. The other one jolted upright, shouted something unintelligible when he saw Roman and Virgil, and flung the door open.

"Thank God you two are okay!"

Patton. Roman felt Virgil tense as their friend exited the car, holding an arm protectively over him just in case, but he needn't have worried. Patton didn't look angry at all; only relieved; rushing over to them and looking all over the pair for injuries.

"What are you guys doing here?" Roman asked.

"You guys weren't answering my calls and we got worried--oh Virgil, your ankle! That looks like it hurts!" Virgil's gaze flicked over to Roman, who nodded to him and then looked at Patton.

"Uh yeah...there was an unfortunate accident..." He offered unhelpfully.

"Let's get you two to my house, Logan and I can patch you up. Ki--ah, Virgil, is it okay if I help Roman get you to the car?" Virgil hesitated, then nodded slowly. Of course he could trust Patton, his fuzzy mind knew, even if he'd fucked up again. You could always trust Patton to be there for you.

"Patton I…I'm sorry for yelling at you earlier...I-I was just really--"

"Don't worry about it. We'll talk about it once we're back and your ankle's feeling better, okay?"

"O-Okay."

The three hobbled slowly back to the car and Roman and Patton helped Virgil into the backseat, before Roman climbed in next to him and Patton got back in his seat.

"I'm glad to see that neither of you were badly injured," Logan said as he started the car. Virgil and Roman exchanged glances, and Roman nodded.

"Yeah," was all he said.

The rest of the drive was in silence. Logan drove the group all the way back to Patton's house, the only conversation that occurred being him offering to take Roman back to get his truck when he wasn't hungover. He accepted, of course.

The teacher was out of the car first once they got back; calmly helping Virgil out with a firm and steady grip. Virgil frantically looked around for Roman once he was standing and of course he was there, and when he saw the look on his boyfriend's face he winked and swept him off his feet just like the night before, carrying him inside. Virgil didn't even protest, he was too tired to.

He felt surprisingly safe and secure there in Roman's arms, and he allowed himself a small smile.

"Roman?"

"Yeah?"

"I...I love you. Even if you're an idiot." Roman just grinned at him.

"I love you too, Virgil."

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #my writing #prinxiety #roman sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders

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