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marinerainbow · 2 years ago

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My OC's and handling sickness

🦋Betty Locera🦋

If her loved one I sick:

Betty comes from a big, family-oriented, southern household. She's got this.

She knows all the best recipes. She knows all the greatest tricks, and she pays attention to what helps her loved one the most with comfort.

But she also knows when to be firm. Like when a child is being fussy about taking their medicine; she knows not to spoil the one she's taking care of, "Aw c'mon now. Don't be a big baby, you'll be better before 'ya know it if you just take 'yer medicine."

If she's the one sick

I hope she didn't have any unfinished chores, because she'll be down for the count if this happens.

Her immune system is pretty strong, with her family business having to do with dealing with dirt and her love for the outdoors and all. So the chances of her getting sick aren't too high.

Betty is the most likely to accept help, since she knows that she's too weak to take care of herself and it can even help her get better faster, "Aw, thank 'ya 'fer the tea, sugar. It really helps."

🔎Detective Sketch🔎

If their loved one is sick

They've only had themselves to take care of for a long time. So the first time their partner gets sick they're uh... Kinda clueless.

They aren't a great cook, but they'll be able to provide the things they'll need; Sketch'll buy some canned soup and orange juice, keep the tissues stocked, whatever their loved one needs.

They have to keep working, so they won't stay by their loved one's bedside the whole day. But they try to be there for them when their home, "I'll be back home soon enough. 'Ya just sit tight, ok?"

If they're the one sick

Good luck getting this bastard to take the day off. They'll be puking their guts out before they even think about taking a sick leave.

Sketch's immune system is... Possibly stronger than Betty's, actually. She doesn't go to the city often, and Sketch has lived there their whole life; all the different people they run into carrying God knows what on them, not to mention their job handling gritty cases or going into sketchy buildings- and their sheer spite- has probably made their immune system pretty tough.

When they finally are convinced to stop running down and actually sit down, their exhaustion catches uo to them and they kind of just pass out. They'll still try to insist on taking care of themselves despite this, "I got it! If I can walk, I can cook for my damn self!"

🌼Prism🌼

If her loved one is sick

This gal has had centuries of experience. She'll help her loved one through this.

Since it's the Night Dimension, I wouldn't be surprised if there were some magical or strange remedies passed along. And since Prism lives in the tree of knowledge, she'll just pull out the book needed, find the information she needs, and gets to work.

She is a guardian, so she can't stay the whole time. But Prism will feel pretty bad and try to make it up to her loved one, "I'm sorry I was gone so long. Maybe I can go find us a good story to read, or I can make you something to eat if you're hungry."

If she's the one sick

Prism does not want to face the facts. Too many people depend on her, she can't just be bedridden while the nightmaren are running around!

I imagine her immune system would be average. She goes out and has a demanding job as a guardian, but she's also a fairly clean person so no germs or infections should have too much of a chance to get to her.

Like Sketch, she'll swear up and down that she's ok... But the second Prism actually lays down and fully realizes how weak she is, she'll begrudgingly acknowledge she has to stay home, "... Alright, I'll stay. But promise me you'll look after the visitors for me, will you?

🐰Poppy🐰

If her loved one is sick

The second she sees her loved one is sick, she's grabbing the face mask- and disposable gloves if it's really bad- before taking them to bed. It wouldn't benefit them both if she caught what they had while taking care of them, right?

Poppy would be a good caretaker. She's, arguably, the most gentle and patient of all the others. She doesn't want to stress her loved one out in the slightest and will have the patience of a Saint even for the fussiest of patients.

She'd be the one most hesitant to leave her loved one's bedside. Bills still need to be paid though, so if her boss won't grant her some time off, she'll leave them for work. But she'll feel the most guilt, and will triple check to make sure they have everything they need, "Ok you have your trash bin, your tissues. I got you your favorite book if you can't sleep. Do you want me to bring the radio in too?"

If she's the one sick

When she gets sick, her body takes it horribly. She will barely be able to force herself to go to work- don't worry, she wears her mask while sick and will take precautions.

Poppy is a neat freak. She will keep her place as clean as possible and doesn't like to get dirty. So, ironically, she'd have the weakest immune system.

Poppy would also be hesitant with people helping her, but more so out of guilt than pride. Especially if they aren't as careful as she is and risk getting themselves sick. Not to mention that she's lived alone for years, so she's used to taking care if herself anyway, "Oh no, it's ok. I can make the tea, don't worry."

I hope you guys like these! Any questions you guys have I'll be more than happy to answer ^^

#my own OC's #my own characters #Betty Locera #Detective Sketch #TCS #Ci: DDwtD #The Cuphead Show #Cuphead in: Don't Deal with the Devil #Prism #NiD #JoD #NiGHTS into Dreams #NiGHTS Journey of Dreams #Poppy #WFRR #Who Framed Roger Rabbit #Disney #im not sick but these headcannons are still comforting to write ^^

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chefdoeuvre · 4 years ago

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Empty Threats

Jay Halstead

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Ruzek!Reader, Adam Ruzek x Sister!Reader

Description: Best friends tell each other everything, right?

Words: 1,360

Requested: yes by anonymous; I had an idea where Adam ruzek has a younger sister (early 20s) who's a paramedic and she starts dating jay and Adam gets super overprotective when finds out a few months into the relationship but is also hurt she didn't tell him

Warnings: fluff (need I explain?), overprotective Adam, Adam being a bimbo (like usual), reader being sassy, mild language?

A/N: Jay Halstead and Adam Ruzek deserve the world. Does this count as a Jay or an Adam fic? I apologize in advance for any grammatical errors.

—

Your big brother Adam, your best friend and largest support system. He was there for you when no one else could be. To say the two of you were close would be a drastic understatement. Both of you went in the same path as first responders, him a cop with the Intelligence unit and you a paramedic at Firehouse 51. You had your respective work families that always managed to come together at Molly's after shifts. Meaning when you were introduced to the resident Intelligence hottie and Adam's work friend you immediately hit it off with him. Drinks at Molly's turned to take out at home watching the Blackhawks. Telling your brother every little thing about your life turned into keeping your best-kept secret, Jay Halstead.

The two of you had a few blissful and dare I say romantic months. You practically began staying over at his place more often than yours. Adam being the oblivious bimbo of a big brother you had, didn't notice anything that was happening between you and Jay when you all gathered for hangouts at Molly's. How could he, someone in the prestige Intelligence unit, not be able to pick up on the longing looks you and Jay shared? You would probably never know. Of course, the only people to know you and Jay were in a relationship were each other. It's not that you wanted to hide it, it was just nice to come home and have each other to yourselves.

Now the two of you were nearing the point of just wanting to come out and say it because the hiding had just become harder to do. Jay never liked to admit it but whenever you were around he was always touchy. Wanting to either keep a hand on the small of your back or your thigh or simply holding your hand. He just had to keep you in reaching distance and whenever you were around friends you had to act like you barely talked to each other outside of that bar. Jay was beginning to get fed up with the sneaking around, sure, he has to the same thing for his job but he didn't feel the need to continue doing it in his relationship. It's not like you explicitly said that the two of you had to sneak around your friends it just kind of happened that way.

Here the two of you were, sitting on Jay's couch cuddled up and watching the Blackhawks game while sipping on a beer and munching on some pizza. In all honesty, you weren't even paying attention to the game on the television. You were too busy playing with Jay's hand he had wrapped around your shoulders. Your head was resting on his chest as you listened to his heartbeat, it almost lulling you to sleep.

Breaking you out of your reverie was a knock on Jay's door. The two of you shared a confused glance before a louder knock was heard. Jay had gotten up to answer the door while you pouted at the loss of his warmth. Five minutes had passed and Jay was still standing at the door. With furrowed brows, you got up and padded toward his entryway.

"Jay, who is it?" You asked, rubbing your suddenly tired eyes.

"Was that my sister?" You heard the voice of your older brother question.

"Oh, crap." You muttered mentally facepalming as Adam pushed his way into Jay's apartment.

"Hey, big brother." You greeted him with an awkward smile as he stood in front of you with a look of disbelief.

"Out of everyone in Chicago, my sister?" Adam asked.

"I'm standing right here you know." You rolled your eyes at his overprotectiveness.

"We'll talk about this later." Adam looked pointedly at you before turning to face Jay, "you and I are going to have an important chat."

Jay stood there with an amused look on his face as he watched the younger man attempt to threaten him, an army veteran and current detective for the Intelligence unit. You stood behind the taller of the two men with crossed arms and your hip jutted out. Jay's eyes flickered over to your figure as he bit back a loud laugh. You looked just about done with this entire situation while Adam continued to drone on with empty threats.

"Adam, can you just stop?" You spoke up in annoyance.

Adam whipped his head around at the sudden sound of your voice. He caught your droopy eyes and pouted lips, ah yes the infamous puppy eyes. The baby Ruzek trademark as he'd like to call it. With his back turned to Jay the man in question smiled widely as he noticed what you were trying to do.

"No, stop that. I'm trying to be serious here." Adam argued, waving a pointed finger at your face.

"It's half past midnight, what are you even doing here?" You questioned with crossed arms.

"It's confidential information." Adam retorted.

"He was asking me advice on how to get Kim back." Jay spoke up from behind the taller man.

"Seriously?" Adam deflated and turned to Jay with a scowl.

"You couldn't have just asked him after work tomorrow?" You raised your eyebrows.

"It was a time-sensitive situation." Adam said flatly.

"Yeah, okay." You laughed unconvinced, "I'm tired, can we finish this tomorrow? I just had a double shift." You rubbed at your eyes again.

"I'll drive you home." Adam nodded as he grabbed your arm to pull to the door.

"But—" You scoffed.

"No, I'm driving you home where you can be sassy without your boy toy to help gang up on me." Adam shook his head.

"Boyfriend." You corrected.

"Whatever." Adam shrugged.

You pulled on your jacket and slipped on your shoes before turning back to Jay and placed a quick kiss on his lips, "I'll see you later." You smiled as Adam grabbed your forearm and pulled you out the door.

Eventually, the two of you pulled up to your apartment building. The entire ride there Adam was lost in his thoughts, meaning he was thinking about the fact his baby sister was dating his coworker and friend. He silently shifted in his seat to face you. You looked at him expectantly while he formulated his thoughts into words.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Adam asked, tilting his head to the side.

"It's not like I did it on purpose. It just kinda happened." You shrugged.

"But you always tell me everything. I guess not anymore." Adam scoffed.

"Adam, if this makes you feel any better you're the first one to know." You suggested hoping to get him to stop pouting.

"How long?" Adam nodded before asking.

"A few months." You answered.

"And I'm the first?" Adam questioned.

"Isn't that what I just said?" You asked.

"Fair enough." Adam nodded, "next time I don't want to walk into my sister and her boy toy though." Adam relaxed slightly.

"Boyfriend." You corrected again.

"Same difference." Adam pursed his lips.

"So we're good?" You asked hopefully.

"Yeah, as long as I get actual information from now on. And if he hurts you I won't hesitate to hurt him and make Olinsky help cover for me." Adam crossed his arms.

"All right, I'll take that." You nodded reluctantly, "just don't hurt him too bad, okay?"

"No promises." Adam laughed.

You leaned forward and placed a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you." You smiled widely.

"What can I say? I'm a great big brother." Adam shrugged nonchalantly.

You laughed before stepping out of his car to head into your apartment.

"No staying over at his place anymore!" Adam called out.

"I'm not sixteen anymore, Adam." You shook your head, "I'll do what I want."

"I swear I'm putting a tracker on you." Adam argued.

"Good luck with that, big brother. Bye!" You waved before opening the door to your building and headed in.

It's safe to say none of Adam's threats worked but Jay played it off for the sake of his sanity. It's not like Jay would hurt you anyway, he's learned from his mistakes if you could call them that.

#request #fanfiction #imagine #one shot #one chicago #one chicago imagine #one chicago fanfiction #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd fanfiction #chicago pd #jay halstead x y/n #jay halstead x you #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead fanfiction #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead #adam ruzek x sister!reader #jay halstead x ruzek!reader #ruzek!sister

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littlemisspascal · 4 years ago

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Death and an Angel part 11

Death!Din x Cupid F!Reader

Summary: “When we get out of here, Din will fly us far, far away,” you murmur, just loud enough to be heard over the sound of the baby's resumed chewing. “I promise you we’ll be happy together.”

Rating: T

Word Count: 3,511

Warnings: captured reader, angst, bonding with Grogu, plot plot plot

Author Note: To anyone and everyone sticking with this series, I love you so much! I know the plot is more than a little thick right now, but answers are slowly but surely being revealed.

Links to Part 1 and Part 10 and Part 12

Cross-posted on AO3.

Photo Inspiration:

You pace the length of the cell, brow furrowed as you try to organize your racing thoughts. Between the chilly atmosphere and the severed bond wailing for its other half, you imagine you outwardly resemble the jittery and unbalanced mess you feel internally. You refuse to feel humiliated by your appearance, not when the witnesses are Gideon and his minions. They can think what they want about you, believe they have broken your spirit, because that just means they won’t expect it when you free yourself until it’s too late.

However, part two of your plan of escape is proving to be more challenging to conceptualize than you initially thought. The collar is tightly wound around your neck to the point of chafing. Apparently the rule of being able to slip two fingers under a collar is only applicable to animals in Gideon’s eyes because your attempt of slipping your finger between skin and metal is dissuaded by another electric shock zipping through your body.

However, as you lightly trail your fingertips over the cold metal, you’re surprised to feel a noticeable dip in the back. It’s not a design flaw, you think as you try to visualize it in your mind. Your heartbeat quickens as realization strikes: it’s a keyhole.

Any excitement you might feel at your discovery is spoiled by the fact a keyhole is useless without a key. You look at the laser gate, further disappointed as you contemplate the complexity of the tunnel system. There could be dozens of cells down here, potentially thousands of hiding places for Gideon to keep the key to the collar secure. Not to mention, you don’t even know what the key looks like. It could be hanging right outside the cell and you’d have no idea.

Lost in the sea of disparaging thoughts, you don’t notice the return of the baby crawling through the hole in the wall until he latches onto your foot. Startled, you barely manage to refrain from shouting a curse as you stare down at him. He giggles, clearly amused by your wide-eyed expression, and then slaps a silver plastic bag against your shin using the hand that isn’t gripping his favorite black cloth.

“Did you bring me a present?” you ask, taking a seat on the pallet and lifting him up onto your lap. This time when you reach forward, he willingly lets you take the item from him instead of trying to take a chunk out of your hand.

You tear open the plastic, revealing its contents to be five teal-colored cookies.

“Wow, bud,” you murmur, holding one up between pinched fingers. The treat smells distinctively like vanilla. From what you’ve witnessed, you doubt Gideon is the type to offer his prisoners dessert with their meals which means these were probably stolen from somewhere. “Where did you find these?”

The baby only babbles unintelligibly in response, gesturing with his free hand in the direction of somewhere beyond the laser gate. You nod along, feigning understanding, but your eyes can’t help but drift to his collar when he turns his head. The keyhole for his collar is smaller than you expect to see which has you quickly theorizing there is not one universal key for all of the collars. If that theory is true, then it raises the difficulty of escaping yet another level.

With a sigh you cram the cookie into your mouth, finding the tiniest smidge of joy in its crunchiness.

“When we get out of here I’ll buy you a dozen boxes of these,” you tell him once you’ve swallowed, offering him one of the cookies. He coos excitedly and takes a large bite, uncaring of the blue crumbs that rain down upon his coat. “And once Din sees you, I bet he’ll want to spoil you rotten, too. He has a not-so-secret soft spot for kids.”

The baby’s head tilts, reacting to the name-drop by making a confused gurgling sound around his mouthful.

“Don’t talk with food in your mouth,” you scold gently, tapping his nose with your finger and laughing under your breath when it proceeds to scrunch up in an adorable manner. Leaning your head back against the wall, you’re unable to keep the note of wistful longing out of your voice as you explain, “Din is my soulmate. To the rest of the world, he’s known as Death. They’ll have you believe he’s someone to be feared and avoided at all cost. But luckily I’m here to tell you the truth.”

He stares up at you, snack seemingly forgotten in favor of listening intently to every word coming out of your mouth. Distantly you think you should be a little scared by how intense his gaze is, as if he’s attempting to look past your skin to the soul beneath, but you remind yourself all babies are innately curious and don’t know it’s rude to stare.

“He’ll never admit to it himself, but underneath all that beskar armor, he is the most socially inept being in the galaxy. I swear, bud, the first time I met him I thought it was impossible for him to say more than two words or else he’d hurt himself.” Your lips twitch at the memory, the smallest of smiles you can make without it feeling forced. “Still, despite his horrible first impression, I couldn’t get him off my mind. I wouldn’t call it love at first sight, but—look, I know how crazy this sounds, okay? But I felt like I had to get to know him better. There was this voice in my head insisting we couldn’t just remain strangers. It took about ten thousand questions and three more meetings for me to earn his trust enough for him to take off his helmet and let me see his face.”

You take a deep breath and stroke your finger over the baby’s ears, needing to feel something other than the flaring pulse of pain from the bond. “One look at those beautiful brown eyes and I was done for.”

Saying Din’s eyes are brown feels sinful. It’s like saying the ocean is blue—accurate, but not detailed enough to describe its depth and volatility. There are days when his eyes are the shade of brown reminding you of leather bound journals—ancient and full of profound wisdom, meant to be admired and cherished for an entire lifetime. Other times, they are the kind of brown that matches your favorite chocolate pastry from the bakery down the street from your apartment—decadent and warm with the slightest hint of temptation.

“When we get out of here, Din will fly us far, far away,” you murmur, just loud enough to be heard over the sound of the baby's resumed chewing. “I promise you we’ll all be happy together.”

And I’ll never get tired of seeing those brown eyes everyday.

The hours start to bleed into one another. The baby snoozes in your lap, head pillowed on your thigh, but you have no idea if it’s night or day. Gideon had said he’d let you talk to Din ‘tomorrow’, but that doesn’t tell you how many days you’ve been here in total.

Your legs have started to feel numb from sitting in the same position so long, but the last thing you want is to wake him up by moving. The importance of him feeling safe enough to be vulnerable and sleep is not lost on you. His desire for attention and physical contact is so painfully obvious you hate thinking about how often he must have been ignored before your arrival.

As he sleeps, you’re unable to resist your curiosity any longer and carefully maneuver the piece of cloth out of his grip. Despite its aged and dirty appearance, it is still surprisingly soft to touch. Whatever article of clothing this was torn from must have been well-tailored, you think, imagining a hooded cloak or perhaps a long coat. Your nose twitches when you hold the cloth close to your face to better study it, reacting to the variety of odors embedded in the wool fibers. Maker knows how long the kid’s been dragging the fabric around with him without it being washed regularly, so you shouldn’t be surprised it has absorbed a couple dozen scents.

Still, the faint essence of smoke you detect swirls around in your brain even long after you’ve laid the cloth back over him like a makeshift blanket. Memories of your death start to resurface again despite your best mental efforts to push them away, causing your stomach to clench with nausea as you recall the horrific stench of charred remains.

It isn’t the same, you tell yourself, squeezing your eyes shut and forcing your head to clear itself. It can’t be because that day was fifty years ago and he’s only just a baby.

You repeat these thoughts like a mantra until, without meaning to, you fall into a dreamless sleep.

You’re startled awake by hands seizing hold of your arms and pulling you up onto your feet without warning. You yelp at the sudden rush back to consciousness, brain scrambling to make sense of everything. Your eyes sweep the ground, panic washing over you like a bucket of cold water when you fail to see a tiny green body.

“It’s time, pet,” the twi’lek’s voice hits your ears and you turn to see her standing near the cell’s entrance, a lantern in one hand and a shiny blade in the other. “The Moff is expecting you.”

It takes you a minute to process in your frazzled state, but you realize it must be time to talk to Din. You’re shoved forward by whoever has your arms twisted behind your back, but you manage another quick survey of the cell. There is no sign the baby was ever here and you send a quick prayer to the Maker he had snuck back through the hole without anyone seeing him.

You have mixed feelings about not being blindfolded as you’re led through the underground labyrinth. On one hand, you get to observe everything and everyone you come across, making as many mental notes to flip through later when you’re alone. On the other, you think this must be an intimidation tactic. Gideon wants you to see everything so you know with absolute certainty how high the odds are stacked against you.

There are cells identical in appearance to yours on either side of you, carved into the tunnel rock and blocked from entry by laser gates. Except not one of them contains a prisoner. Either you have severely overestimated the size of Gideon’s collection, or he is purposefully keeping you separate from the rest for reasons known only to him.

Another surprising and unsettling observation you make is how many different types of species Gideon has employed as minions—human, rodian, trandoshan, you even spot a devaronian in the mix. Except for the Cupid twi’lek in front of you, everyone you come across is mortal. It does not make much sense to you why a seraph as powerful as Gideon is relying on mortal henchmen to help maintain control of his secret prison. Your gut instinct is insisting you’re missing a vital piece of information and you don’t like being in the dark about it.

The tunnel you’re being marched down eventually opens up into a larger cavernous space with several dozen lanterns hanging along the walls providing ample lighting. There are several crates spread about the area, and some have been pried open to reveal they are packed full of blasters and ammunition. You rack your brain trying to determine the purpose of the weapons. Yes, clearly, they are meant to cause havoc and destruction, but why are they here? Who or what is the target they will be aimed at?

Gideon stands in the middle of the room next to an empty chair. On his other side is a mortal human male, bald-headed with ginger facial scruff, who has two blaster pistols holstered around his chest and yet another one held by a droid arm attached to his backpack. Overkill much?

You’re shoved in the direction of the chair and gruffly told to sit. Huffing, you wordlessly obey and try not to squirm as all eyes lock onto you as if you’re going to perform a trick for their entertainment.

“You have a minute to record your message,” Gideon says, holding out a piece of paper towards you. “These words I have prepared must be included in those precious sixty seconds or you might find me reluctant to allow you to send a second recording.”

Is he serious? This isn’t the arrangement you previously discussed with him.

“Record?” you repeat, reluctantly taking the paper.

“I never said you would have the opportunity of speaking to Death face-to-face.” You want more than anything to tear the condescending smirk off his face with your fingernails. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder, isn’t that the mortal saying? You would know better than me, living amongst them in that quaint little apartment on Umbriel.”

Of course he knows about your home. Of kriffing course he does.

Heartbeat quickening, you avoid eye contact by scanning the few lines of words he’s written, eyebrows slowly inching up your forehead the more you read. “I don’t understand. This isn’t a demand to kill anyone. What does it mean?”

“Now is not the time for you to know,” he answers cryptically.

You shake your head, insisting, “Well maybe it should be. He knows me better than anyone. He’ll be able to tell I’m confused and—“

Gideon’s heavy sigh interrupts you. Then, quicker than you anticipate, he steps to the side of you and unsheathes his sword, its black blade positioned at your throat. It happens in one fluid movement, and the danger of your current predicament doesn’t sink in until the frightening humming notes of the weapon register in your eardrums seconds later. Your expressionless mask wavers, facial muscles tightening as you fail to refrain from flinching.

“All that is required from you, Cupid 1-1-7, is for you to speak from the heart and convince him to follow this one instruction. Do you think you can accomplish that?” he asks the question as if you have an actual choice. Like you can walk away now and there will be no hurt feelings.

But that is ridiculous. Everyone knows Cupids don’t get to have choices. Not when they are only given orders to obey.

You give him the tiniest of nods, careful not to let your skin make contact with the blade. “Yes, sir.”

“Then let’s begin.”

The nav computer on the Razor Crest contains the coordinates of every moon and planet within each region of the galaxy. There is not one inch of space unknown to Din and yet his search for his angel continues to remain unsuccessful. He doesn’t consider the possibility of her being deceased for even half a second. As her soulmate he would have felt her passing the moment it happened. The bond he shares with his angel might be young and fragile still, but he doesn’t doubt her loss would eviscerate him in the same merciless manner he had done to Hess.

His inability to find her can only mean a powerful immortal is involved in her capture. As Death he roams the universe as a neutral entity. The only enemies he encountered—and he uses that term loosely—were foolish mortals thinking they could outlive their destined time by fighting him, only to ultimately meet their fated ends in the process. Prior to Hess’ demise, he had upheld his sworn creed to the universe and never once was tempted to defy the natural order or break a sacred rule.

Although admittedly strange to consider, the thought that maybe his angel’s capture isn’t meant to deliberately hurt him or her is one that keeps crossing his mind. Perhaps they are merely pieces in a game neither of them recognize nor want to willingly participate in.

As Din sits in the pilot’s seat, staring at the screen dispassionately through the visor of his helmet still coated with Hess’ blood, he is well-aware of Bo-Katan standing behind him, attempting to freeze him solid with her iciest glare.

She is the bravest of his reapers, unafraid to piss him off and counteract his opinions with her own. Yet ever since they left Hess’ body hanging in the warehouse and returned to the Crest, she’s not said one word to him, seemingly content to suffer in silence as a background presence while he contemplates whether he should be the one to track down the twi’lek Hess referenced or if he should have his reapers engage in the hunt.

“We’re going to talk about what happened,” Bo-Katan says coolly.

He grinds his teeth. “We will talk if and when I want to.”

“No.” She forcefully pulls at his chair, turning it around to face her. A snarl escapes him, animalistic and furious, but her green eyes don’t even blink, not the least bit intimidated. “You reaped a soul before it’s destined time. The universe isn’t going to easily forgive you for that. There will be consequences.”

“The only thing that matters is getting her back,” he answers. It’s the truth too. The second his angel was taken he knew there was not one rule he wouldn’t break to have her back in his arms—consequences be damned.

“Do you even hear yourself right now?” Bo-Katan asks, looking him over as if she no longer recognizes him. Her eyes linger just a second too long on his bloodstained gloves. “You’re losing your mind over a soulmate you’ve barely known a year.”

“Have you ever had someone you loved taken from you?” Din counters.

She scowls, eyes narrowing with loathing. “How dare you compare—”

“Answer the question!” he shouts, slamming his fist down on the armrest hard enough the metal creaks ominously.

“Yes.” Her chin dips briefly towards her chest as she takes a second to compose herself. “You know I have.”

Din does know. Hours prior to every major catastrophic event in the galaxy’s history he’s felt an invisible leash wrap around him, pulling him in the direction of the tragedy and demanding he be there to personally reap the souls of the victims in the aftermath. He had witnessed the destruction of Bo-Katan’s homeworld when it was ravaged by a series of bombings orchestrated by an unknown enemy. Thousands had been killed, including Bo-Katan’s sister.

He doesn’t let the silence stretch too long, voice unwavering as he says, “And if you had the chance, would you not kill the one responsible for your pain?”

“It wouldn’t bring her back. Not any of them.”

Din sighs, glancing away, but Bo-Katan surprises him not even ten seconds later, apparently unfinished.

“I’d still do it though,” she says, not sounding the least bit guilty for admitting to hypothetical murder. “I’d carve the heart out of whoever set off those bombs and force-feed it to them.”

“We’re more alike than you may think,” Din says. “Think about that before you question my actions again.”

Any potential response from his reaper is interrupted by the beeping of an incoming transmission. He turns his chair at once, noticing the recorded message’s origin source is a random scrambling of letters and numbers. Every instinct is telling him he won’t like what he sees, but his hand reaches forward anyways, as if possessed by an unseen force, and presses the button to view the recording.

His angel appears as a holographic figure and immediately his eyes zero in on the collar around her neck. Anger threatens to course through his veins again, but Din forces his lungs to draw in a deep breath. Now is not the time to unleash his temper. Now is the time to listen and commit every word she says to memory, to study her every feature for any sign she’s been hurt.

“Death,” she begins, and his entire body tenses at the use of his title and not his name. It’s been so long since she’s addressed him as such, he knows it can’t be accidental. “I hope this message reaches you wherever you are. More than anything I wish I could be with you right now. I’m so sorry I broke my pinky promise to you, sweetheart. The way our bond is...I hate to think you’re feeling as much pain as I do.”

Din’s heart shatters when she starts to anxiously rub at her soulmate marking, sniffling quietly. His fingers itch with the overwhelming longing to hold her hand.

“I’m not safe here. What they’ve threatened to do to me...it scares me. I-I need to ask you a favor, a very important one.” A few teardrops escape the corners of her eyes and drip down her cheeks. Din bites the inside of his mouth so harshly he tastes blood. “If you want to protect me, then you must let go.”

The transmission goes dead.

Tag List: @leilei-draws, @theocatkov, @vintagesaph, @stardust-and-starlight, @adrieunor, @remmyswritings, @gallowsjoker, @rhiannon-russo, @randomness501, @sylphene, @softly-sad, @maytheglitter, @melobee, @rogertaylorsfalsettogivesmehives, @eleinemk, @captain-jebi, @aerynwrites, @promiscuoussatan, @stilllivindue2spite, @coaaster, @lin-djarin, @oh-no-a-whovian, @over300books, @chibi-yuki, @becauseican2, @kay2304, @odelia-d32, @nicotinebirds

#din x you #din x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #Din Djarin #death and an angel #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #my writing

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consumeconstantly · 4 years ago

Text

Innocence, avoidance

Summary: Jason Todd cracks crass jokes and dirty comments like they’re his lifeblood. It turns out, he’s just getting it out of his system before he sees his little sister again. (Or: Marinette gloms onto Red Hood after her parent’s death, and there’s no way anyone can stop her from being with her older brother.)

___________________________________________________

Jason Todd, AKA Red Hood, is not the kind of man people go to when they want to complain about their life problems. They go to him when they want a quick, oftentimes violent solution; Red Hood isn’t exactly a renowned empath. In comparison to his other Bat Family counterparts, he is at least 10 times more crass and almost 15 times more violent.

It is accepted that although Red Hood makes situations turn out for the better, he is no shining paragon of human virtue and kindness. People trust him to watch their backs and not to fuck them over so long as they’re working within his very clearly defined set of values, but he’s just not the kind per person that anyone would entrust their kid to during their Friday date night.

Until somebody does.

The door to the warehouse is already open, and he has a gun in his hand, ready to threaten the little crowd he’s gathered today when a woman hops out of her car and shoves a pig-tailed girl with wide blue eyes and an almost blindingly neon pink outfit towards him.

“There you are, you weren’t at the drop site!” says the woman, who instantly begins to back away from the two of them once the little girl picks herself up off the ground that she landed on. Red Hood notes the license of the getaway car, making a mental reminder to deal with them later, but the car makes tracks. The little girl frowns at the disappearing car, eyes the gun in his hand, then decides that she’s going to stay put.

Red Hood looks at the rabble that has convened in the warehouse, down at the little girl, then back again. There are at least five people in the room that are eyeing the little girl greedily, and he’s sure that if he just lets her go, she’ll be captured by one of them faster than he can bat an eye. He doesn’t exactly have time to put the girl in a safe place, not when it’s taken him months and a good number of heads in order to draw these people here.

She looks wary of the gun and of him, but not scared. Everyone else? Half of them look like they’re about to burst out laughing, and the other half have looks that he’s eager to wipe off their faces.

“Aww, look at that! Hood has finally found his way into the dark side of the business. What’s next, prostitution?”

Without hesitation, he shoots with deadly accuracy at the man’s hand. The man keels, bending over and clenching his bloodied appendage. Other than the man’s screams, the room goes completely silent.

Red Hood casts another glance at the little girl, who has, slowly but surely managed to inch away from him and into a safer position. She’s holding onto her sparkly purple plastic backpack like it’s the only thing that’s keeping her alive. Smart kid, not to run. Or was it dumb? He wouldn’t shoot her, and he’d take out anyone else who tried to, but the girl didn’t know that. She probably just assumed that she was going to his next target.

“All of you shut up while I deal with this.” He inhales deeply and kneels down to get on eye level with the girl. Not that she can see much of his eyes, given his helmet, but still.

He has half a mind to go after the woman, but he’s not about to leave the little girl amongst the group of criminals that are gathered in the warehouse with him. Briefly, he wonders how the hell that couple even knew that he was going to be here tonight. He also wonders what he’s going to do with the kid. “What’s your name, kiddo?”

She looks up at him, hands clenched around a plastic pink backpack with some kid’s cartoon on the back, then looks out at the people that have gathered. There’s a moment of silence, and Red Hood is sure that she’s weighing her current options. Smart kid. Eventually, she shifts her body weight closer to him, apparently drawing the conclusion that he is the safer option than the other people who are here tonight. Smart kid.

“It’s Marinette, sir.”

No last name. Not sure if that’s a pointed decision to keep her identity at least partially concealed, or just because she doesn’t have one.

“And those weren’t your parents?” It stands to reason that the people in that care aren’t her parents, but he needs to make sure.

Marinette clenches her backpack tighter. “No, sir.”

“Where are they?” He has a sinking suspicion if those weren’t her parents, and she’s not up in tears, asking for a phone to call them, that--

“They’re dead, sir.”

Sometimes, Jason wishes he could be wrong on things like this.

“Then who were they? And don’t call me sir. Too formal.”

“My mom’s... second cousin, I think? I never met her before, but I got sent here anyway.”

One of the men shifts. He’s one of the men who Red Hood pegged as a possible child trafficker. Underneath his helmet, Jason’s eyes narrow. He now has a fairly good idea of how the couple figured out that he was going to be here tonight.

“Do you know how to get back home?”

At that, Marinette's mouth almost twitches up into a smile. “No sir. I don’t think there’s a home to go back to, anymore.”

Red Hood sighs. Putting the information presented to him together, he quickly comes to the conclusion that Marinette’s parents have died recently and that nobody in her immediate family has found out about their passing, or they don’t want her. Somehow, the couple picked her up-- possibly when she was going to a friend’s house, judging by the whole school girl look she has going on-- and thought she would fulfill the trafficking requirements laid out to them.

That means that there aren’t a lot of options available to her. He can redirect her to the foster care system, but everybody knows foster care messes up kids permanently. Even though she looks to be pretty street smart, he couldn’t just let her live out on the streets in good conscience. Her outfit looks too clean for her to ever have lived in poverty, and she definitely checks the box for a lot of the trafficking rings that have been popping up recently. Mixed descent, the possibility to be pretty when older, and very, very pure. She’d get picked up off the streets within hours if she just let her be.

He decided that he’s let her have the final say. “What do you think I should do in this situation?”

She shuffled her pink ballet clad shoes, eyes darting to the sides. He had to give the girl this much at least; even though she had the whole innocent look going for her, she was very aware of her surroundings. Her body language implied that she didn’t believe him to be that much of a threat— and in any other case, he’d fault her for that, but given that let their surroundings were a drug den he’d let it go— and tilted herself so she could have as many people in her sights as possible. “Sir, I think as long as you could get me out of here safely, I’ll figure out how to take care of myself.”

The man Jason was watching, the possible trafficker, tensed. Yeah, Jason is definitely going to have to take care of him later. This kind of a reaction as good as cements the suspicions he’s had.

“Tell you what, princess. Do you mind waiting outside for me? I’ll help you out once I’m done here.”

Marinette eyed the rest of the room. “How long will you take?”

She’s asking all the right questions. Maybe it will be easy for her to fit into the slums of Gotham.

“Not long,” Red Hood promised. “Ten minutes at most.”

The collection of people who have gathered in the warehouse all swallowed uncomfortably. Everybody knew that when Red Hood dealt with things quickly, it typically ended in copious amounts of bloodshed and shock.

“Okay,” Marinette paused, grip loosening on her backpack. “Ten minutes.

Red Hood doesn’t particularly want to have Marinette around for the violence that’s about to occur, but she’s already seen him shoot one person, so it’s too late to shield her innocence. And violence? It’s a slippery slope.

He makes quick work of the room; half of the people he brought out here, he kills off directly. The other half are made to watch as the people they’ve associated with for years die in front of their eyes. This is a power play. A way to… persuade them to reform. Because the people he’s left alive? Red Hood has left them alive for two reasons. One. They’re not nearly as bad as most of the higher ups in Gotham. Two. If he kills all of the people who have dabbled in anything bad, the chain will be completely messed up, and there will be too much room for unknown variables to make their way up the ranks. He wants people he can control. And the people he’s left alive? He can keep all of them in line.

Marinette is not waiting outside for him. They’re right next to Crime Alley. This is not going to end well.

He’ll give the little girl props for somehow managing to avoid his detection.

To be more precise, he’s hoping that she’s simply avoiding his detection, and hasn’t gotten swept up in something bad.

It takes Jason three hours-- three hours-- to find the girl who can’t be much older than ten. Probably not even ten, judging by her size.

“You’re lucky it’s me finding you, and not someone else, Pixie.” He finally catches a glance of her glaringly sparkly backpack, complete with fairies and unicorns covered in some sort of holographic overlay.

Marinette immediately backs up, looking definitively worse for the wear. She’s gained rips in her clothes and a nasty looking scraped knee. Her face loses all color when she sees him. “S- sorry, sir. I swear I wasn’t running away, it’s just that there was someone outside who tried to grab me, and--”

If Jason didn’t know better, he’d believe the girl.

However, he does have a decent number of connections, and those connections ensured that nobody was going to be able to come near the warehouse once his ‘meeting’ started. Though, he’ll have to have a talk with them, given that someone tried to pass the goods right before it started. Jason is fairly sure that the couple has been apprehended by now, but checking later tonight won’t hurt.

Which means Marinette made the decision to run.

Again, that would have been a very, very smart decision had she not found herself in Crime Alley of all places. It looks like she’s learned a little bit about why she should stay away from places like this.

“It’s fine, Pixie. Like I said earlier, just call me Red Hood, or Hood. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Marinette balks.

Jason sighs. “Look, I know it’s hard to believe, but you can trust me. I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to do. All I want is to see you safe.”

“But,” Marinette bites her lip. Her eyes drop to the guns at his side. That’s… that’s a good reason not to trust him, to be honest. If he were in her position, he’d already be running.

“Do you have anyone you can contact? Anyone you trust? I can take you to them.”

She’s starting to tear up, and god, Jason cannot deal with crying children. Marinette’s big, blue eyes and pigtails and her general smallness. He just can’t. “Please don’t cry. Please don’t cry. What, do you-- do you want a cookie or something? I can bring you to a bakery before we talk? Sweets are supposed to cheer kids up, right?”

Marinette lets out a watery laugh.

“I like macaroons,” she offers.

“So, how old are you?”

In the warmth of the bakery, Marinette looks markedly more relaxed. She went to the bathroom to clean her face and cut off, and now she looks like the poster child of one of those band aid ads. Lively, a little mischievous, and, you know, a child.

She takes a delicate bite of the shortbread cookie-- not a macaroon, there aren’t many reputable bakeries in Gotham that are close and have French pastries. “Nine and a half.”

Oh man, she’s younger than Replacement.

“You’ve really got no family here? None at all? No friends you can call?”

“No, I’m from France.”

Well, that certainly answers a lot of questions. But brings up additional ones. “You speak English very well.”

“Maman and Papa ran a very popular bakery. We got a lot of foreigners. Before we moved to Paris, we lived in New York.” She takes a sip of her drink, whipped cream stuck on her nose. “And I don’t remember anyone from New York. We moved to Paris when I was three.”

Jason sighs. “What do you want to do?”

“Maman said that if I were ever left on my own, my only job was to survive by any means.”

“That’s…” He tries to find the right words. “Interesting advice.”

In what parallel universe do parents of a bakery in Paris-- one of the major cities in the world with the lowest crime rates--tell their children to survive by any means?

“Did she tell you how?”

Marinette tilts her head, pigtails bouncing. “She told me to trust my instincts and never to trust the police.”

Great. That explains why she didn’t ask for someone’s phone to call the police. Not that the police in Gotham are the best people to go to for a case like Marinette’s, but then again, there’s not really anybody good to go to for a case like hers.

Vague advice is the best way to get a kid killed. But since Marinette isn’t already dead, it stands to reason that her instincts haven’t failed her yet, and he really does have no clue what to do with her.

He briefly contemplates taking her to Bruce, but strikes the idea down almost instantly. Marinette fits all of the requirements to become a Robin. Tragic backstory, black hair, blue eyes. He’s not going to put another child into Bruce’s hands just so he can ruin their life by not doing his job. Besides, Bruce doesn’t know he’s alive yet, and he wants to keep it that way for now.

“Then what do your instincts tell you to do?”

Does he feel like an idiot for asking a nine year old that? Yes, but what else is he supposed to do? Taking care of kids was never part of the job description when he signed up to be Red Hood. (Then again, it wasn’t like there was a job description to begin with.)

Marinette takes another bite of one of the cookies on her plate. “They tell me to stick close to you.”

Even better. She’s imprinted on him.

@jasonette-july-2k20

#you bet your ass marinette grows up to kick ass and take names #does the summary fit the fic? not really but none of my summaries do #jasonette july #jasonette #how do you tag platonic ships #platonic!jasonette #jason todd #marinette dupain cheng #maribat #miraculous ladybug #dcu #innocence #child!marinette

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whump-a-la-mode · 3 years ago

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Villainsicle | Part 13

I know it’s been a while, and if I’m being completely honest, I really ran out of steam on this story for a while. But, we’re back! If you’re new to my blog and are interested in this story, all of the parts up to this one can be found linked in my pinned info post.

Thank you guys so much for all your support of this series so far! I hope you enjoy this part, too!

Taglist:

@whatwhumpcomments

@sola-whumping

@professional-idiocy

@trappedgoose-in-a-writblr-room

@literally-just-kirby

@the-polari-person

@teachunks

@daydreamed-snippets-2nd-blog

@sunflower1000

@lightdrinker-blog

@regalwritten

CW//Mentions of bathing, restraints, drugs, dehumanization, conspiracies, collars, talk of diseases, talk of falling, Stockholm syndrome, affectionate caretaker, conditioned whumpee

After their bath, Villain rested.

It wasn’t exactly how Counselor had imagined the whole affair going. Villain had already spent so many days resting, laid up in that same bed, but once they were clean and settled into fresh clothes, they had requested nothing except to be able to return to sleep.

They supposed it wasn’t entirely unexpected. While the bath hadn’t exactly been physically exerting, there had been several instances during it that Villain had nearly burst out in tears. Whatever was going through their mind, it was undeniably intense-- and that wasn’t even mentioning the heavy dose of sedatives coursing through their system.

And, thus, Villain slept. They were unconscious almost immediately upon hitting the mattress.

This time, however, there was no nervous twitching to accompany their unconsciousness. Instead, for the first time, their face showed a perfectly placid expression.

Taking care not to wake the sleeping patient, Counselor draped a fleece blanket overtop of them, tucking its edges in around their shoulders. They twitched, but did not awake. A moment later, they buried their face in the fabric.

Counselor had never before imagined that Villain was even capable of existing in such a calm state. Yet, here they were, looking for all the world as though not even an earthquake could wake them up.

Their gaze flicked to the bedrails. Upon returning to their bed, Villain had not so much as seemed to note the leather-and-foam restraints hanging there.

Yet, Counselor could not draw their gaze away from them.

Villain had been staying in the base for weeks, phasing through various states of aggression and fear and sickness and, on rare occasions, hesitant happiness. But, even after all that time, no one truly knew anything about them.

At least, Counselor knew nothing about them. Based on the way Leader and Medic’s expressions twisted when the prisoner was mentioned, it was clear that the both of them knew more than they were letting on-- but neither was keen to admit as to such.

Maybe Hero had had more luck on this information gathering mission.

But how much information was there really to gather? Officially, Villain had simply appeared on stage a few months ago, alongside two unknowns. More or less, they had acted just as any other villain did.

The other villains, however, had motives. Backstories. They were following orders.

Villain... If anyone on the outside cared about them, they had yet to risk any sort of jailbreak.

There was more to this than the official story, Counselor knew that full well. How much more... as to that, they had no idea.

But they had no need to rely on second hand accounts and official reports to know what Villain was. That much was obvious. They were a villain. Whatever their backstory, whatever their past, they were dangerous.

Right?

Counselor’s gaze drifted back to those restraints. Those simple straps, dangling from a metal bedframe.

At some point, Villain may have been dangerous. But not right now. Right now, they needed help, and that was exactly what Counselor was going to give them.

And, if they wanted that plan to go anywhere, they would have to start with the doctor who harmed their own patient.

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This time, when Medic answered the knocking on their door, their glasses were on the right way around. They blinked a few times, rubbing their eyes, hardly noting as the piping hot cup of coffee was pushed into their hands.

The doctor glanced down at the beverage before looking back up to meet their visitor’s gaze.

“I thought you wanted me to sleep.”

“Well, that was before. For now, we need to talk.”

“If this is decaf again, I swear I’m going to strangle you.”

“It’s not. Though the same threat applies to you if you try to go back to the med bay.”

“I’m a doctor. In fact, I’m our only doctor.”

“I’m a doctor, too.”

“Psychology doesn’t count.”

“Fair enough.”

“If we’re done threatening each other, then, would you care to, I don’t know, tell me why you’re bothering me?”

“As I said, we need to talk.”

“Do I even need to ask what about?”

“I think you already know that. Come on. You have your coffee, so there’s no excuses.”

“You really think I’m going to be that penitent about this?”

“Maybe.”

Medic rolled their eyes, but did not protest any further as Counselor turned and walked off. The two moved to a rather isolated table, tucked away in the corner of a hallway. The cafeteria was far too crowded at the moment to host such a discussion.

On opposite sides of the table, the opposites sat. Two cups of coffee clinked down on the wooden surface.

Counselor took a sip of their drink, placing the cup back down and raising their gaze. Medic frowned, lips turning downwards even further than usual.

“What, are we planning on talking through telepathy or- Come on, Counselor, stop looking at me like that. I hate that.”

“Then are you going to say anything?”

“I can’t read your mind.”

“You said you knew what this was about.”

“Maybe.” Medic shrugged dismissively. The doctor had been horribly standoffish, ever since Villain had been captured. “Doesn’t mean I’m going to start trying to guess your thoughts.”

Counselor took another sip.

“Fine, then. I can start.” Sip. Clink. “Villain told me something very interesting, earlier.”

“You really believe them?”

“I haven’t even said it yet.”

“Then stop wasting time, maybe.”

“Villain says that you’re making them sick.”

Medic’s brows furrowed.

“That’s what they said?”

“Pretty much verbatim, yes.”

“Well.” Medic took a hesitant drink of their coffee. “I don’t know why you’re even wasting your time on a notion like that. What they are is paranoid. I don’t doubt that they think I’m making them sick. Doesn’t mean it’s true.”

“You’re saying that your patient is lying.”

“Maybe not lying. That would imply that they know what they’re saying is not true. They are sick, I will not deny that. And they are not responding to treatment. I can’t say that anything I’ve tried so far has made it any better, but it certainly hasn’t made it worse.”

“Why would they believe such a thing without reason?”

Medic exhaled.

“Because, in Villain’s mind, they do have reason. They have a child’s understanding of medicine. They are sick, and they are under my care and taking my medicines, and thus, in their mind, one of these things has caused the other.”

Counselor cast their gaze downwards, focusing on the way their milk danced its way through the black beverage before them. It was a reasonable explanation. Maybe. They may not have trusted Medic, but they trusted Medic’s abilities as a doctor.

Could Villain really be wrong?

“If they’re wrong...” Counselor began again. “Then what is making them sick? Their incident with hypothermia was weeks ago, now. It can’t still be that?”

“I doubt the two are connected. If this was all a matter of post-hypothermic reactions, then we wouldn’t be seeing these kinds of symptoms.”

“What is it, then?”

Medic bit their bottom lip.

“That’s the problem. I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? They’ve been in your care for... well over a week, now.”

“You think I don’t know that? If you haven’t noticed, I’m the world’s leading expert on Enhanced biology. Not to mention, y’know, an experienced doctor for normal humans. Whatever this is, it’s not a normal sickness. I’ve done every test I can think of.”

“And... it’s getting worse, isn’t it?”

“Not as badly as you might be fearing. Their weakness is worsening, yes, as is their general mental state. But their vitals are fine. They’re not in serious danger of anything, so long as they don’t hurt themself.”

“You think they’d do that?”

“Given just how bad their confusion has been getting? I’m already putting preventative measures in place.”

“Oh.”

Medic raised a brow.

“You thought I restrained them for no reason? I’m not Leader. There are medical regulations about this sort of thing.”

“They’ve been hurting themself?”

“Not what you may be thinking of. But with how bad their weakness has grown, they can’t exactly stand up without aid, at the current moment. Forget walking. Unfortunately, they don’t seem to have realized this.”

“They’ve fallen?”

“A few times, yes. If that is all, I was really just starting to enjoy my day off, so-”

“Wait.” Counselor shook their head. “People don’t get sick for no reason.”

“Congrats, you know a basic medical fact.”

“You know what I mean. You’re the smartest person I know. You must have, I don’t know, a theory? A hypothesis? Anything?”

Medic blinked, placing down their cup.

“I do. Though right now, I have no way of proving it.”

“What is it?”

“Villain has what we call... psionic powers. Powers that affect only a person’s brain, but not their physical body. It’s the rarest type of power, oftentimes because something you can’t see is often something you can’t detect. Thus, this group of powers is poorly understood, to say the least. But I’m sure you know what power fatigue looks like for other Enhanced.”

“Like when Hero broke their leg?” Counselor guessed.

“Yes. The simple act of overexerting ones powers, even without outside injury, can cause physical injuries like that to develop.”

“You think Villain’s having power fatigue?”

“It’s my best guess. It would check all the boxes. An undetectable illness affecting the brain, but nothing else. A never before seen condition.”

“But... is it something you can cure?”

“I can’t cure tiredness.” Medic shook their head. “That’s really not how it works. I can do my best to counteract the symptoms, but so long as the source is still there, I’d be fighting uphill.”

“Then what can you do?”

“I can remove the source.” The tiniest smirk crept onto the doctor’s countenance. “Power fatigue is caused not by using ones powers, but using them in a way that the body cannot handle. At least, as far as we can tell. If Villain can control their powers enough, their symptoms should go away.”

“You really think so?”

“I hesitate to guarantee anything. Not with how poorly understood the condition is.” That smirk fell, replaced by Medic’s resting expression of annoyance. “But training them to use their powers properly is the only way I can see them getting any better.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure. I’m also sure that I would really like to go back to my quarters. If you’re done bothering me?”

Counselor bit their tongue.

“Fine.”

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Counselor had momentarily considered returning to their own quarters, but had quickly decided against it, instead turning to the kitchen. They had yet to eat that morning, as had Villain. They figured that a warm meal might help them shake off the sedatives.

And, maybe, some food would make Counselor’s own stomach stop twisting.

They only made it halfway to the kitchen, however, when in the hallway, they nearly slammed into Hero. The two both yelped, and a slosh of Counselor’s coffee slopped to the floor.

“Shit, sorry, are you okay?” Hero asked. There was considerable nerve in their voice.

Counselor nodded. “You just started me, ‘s all.” They glanced down at the spilling coffee now sitting on the tile floor. “I’ll, uh, get that later. I was just heading to the kitchen.”

“Oh. Um, could it wait?”

“I need to bring Villain something to eat.”

“Can it wait?”

“What-”

Counselor’s gaze drifted to Hero’s twitching hand.

“You have something?”

“Mhm. I don’t think it’s going to take very long.”

“Can I see?”

“Not here. Not with everyone else around.”

Counselor raised their brows quizzically, but nodded.

“To your quarters, then?”

“I guess that’s as good of a place as any.”

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As soon as Counselor was out of sight, Medic changed their trajectory.

The musty air that filled their lab acted on them like a drug, sending a calm shiver down their spine. If they had the day off (or if they were being forced to take it off), there was no way they were going to spend that precious little free time moping in their quarters. Not when they could be here.

They sat, the memory foam of their desk chair still molded to their form. The laptop before them booted up with a familiar chirp and bright pink screensaver, written upon in white text:

“Property of Organization. Unauthorized Use Is Unlawful.”

The grainy selection of videos blinked before them, and they selected the next one in the series. Even if they didn’t have access to their Asset at the current moment, they could at the very least work ahead.

The screen fizzled to life in all its low-definition glory, displaying a familiar room, its walls plastered with protective black rubber, and its tile floor made of the same material.

The presenter wore a bandage on their face, covering the side of their jaw. The gauze warped as they smiled, but they seemed to make no note of it.

Beside them, the presenter’s own Asset stood. The muzzle around their face had been modified, its metal warped as to compress its wearer’s jaw, to the point that even breathing was an impossibility.

Extreme, perhaps, but based on the Asset’s behavior, it was warranted.

Though their movements were weak and unbalanced, they were persistent, not ceasing yanking against their leash for the slightest moment. This time, unlike before, the presenter seemed to be paying attention to them, though they did not seem worried.

“It has been some time since we last spoke.” They began. “I apologize for the delay, but, hopefully, it will not happen again. After all, training our Assets is a full time job.”

A smile. Cheerful, stretching their cheeks.

“Unfortunately, I must report that the recent delay we experienced was as a result of my own Asset lashing out. This was unfortunate, but it made me realize that there is a flaw in my training methods. A flaw I seek to instruct you, today, on how to remedy.

One advantage we trainers have is that we have 24/7 access to our Assets. As we take care of them, we can choose to meet their needs in whatever way we see fit.

Deprivation has always been a part of Asset training, since we pioneered our methods. But it was something I, unfortunately and unwisely, neglected. And I have done you all a disservice by not mentioning it to you.

In order for training to truly take effect, there must be room in an Asset’s mind for it to fit. A reason for them to follow. Fear, certainly, is this reason, but there are other aspects to control.

Following my Asset’s incident, we have been working using these methods of deprivation. Depriving your Asset of things such as nutrients, water, and sleep can significantly speed up and solidify your training. In this lesson, we will go over this, and how it can help you improve your training methods.”

The presenter’s smile was matched by their Asset’s wicked snarl. From the corners of their mouth, licks of flame emerged, just for the slightest moment.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Hero handled the flash drive as though it were a bomb.

Perhaps it was, if the writing on the device was at all to be believed. Scrawled on in sharpie, a hastily written yet well received warning.

“Property of Organization. Unauthorized Use Is Unlawful.”

As if Organization cared about the law.

Hero seated themself in their office chair, leaving Counselor to sit a few feet back, on their bed. They almost flinched, plugging the flashdrive into their laptop.

For a moment, the computer hummed, before it reported chipperly that new files had been added.

“Uh, Hero?”

“Yeah?”

“Where did you get this thing?”

“Leader gave it to me.”

“Did they say what it was.”

Hero shook their head. “That’s what we’re about to find out.”

Still moving terribly nervously, Hero opened the folder that the computer had created for these ‘new files.’

“It’s... videos.”

“Videos?”

“A couple of them, yeah.”

“Should we... play them?”

“I don’t- I don’t know. I mean, if Organization is involved, I’m not sure I want to know what’s on them.”

“It could help Villain.”

Hero sighed, dipping their head.

“I hate when you’re right.”

With deft fingers, they selected the first video.

It had been so long, since any of them had seen Traitor. More than that, it had been so long since any of them had seen Traitor smile.

And yet, that was what they were doing. Grinning, ear to ear, eyes locked upon the camera.

“Hello, everyone, and welcome to the second edition of the Asset Training Video Course. If you are confused, the first edition of this series was, unfortunately, cut short due to... an incident. We will all miss our last presenter, but that does not mean that our duties can be shirked.”

Traitor turned, looking offscreen, calling:

“Veni huc.”

The language the words were in was clearly not English, but the person who moved on-screen did not seem concerned by that fact.

Villain smiled as well, though their warm gaze had an inquisitive quality to it as they regarded the camera. A chain-link collar was arranged about their neck, but it was attached to nothing, and seemed to more or less hang limply.

“For this series, I will be demonstrating all you need to know about Asset training. This, here, is my own Asset, Cadet. As you can tell, they are very well trained, if I do say so myself. They will be helping me show you how to train your own assigned Asset.”

Traitor’s hand reached for Villain, who did not flinch a moment. Their hand ruffled Villain’s hair affectionately.

Villain smiled, and leaned into the touch.

#whump #whumpee #whumpblr #whump community #villainsicle #powered whumpee #conditioned whumpee

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girlgrouptrash101 · 4 years ago

Text

MinYul (IZ*ONE) - He’ll Never Be You

Request: naur i just got some minyul feeels and had to get this out of my system yike

Word Count: 4,058

Warnings: there is none all is safe my friends

A/N: anything randomly in bold is their thoughts cuz,, idk minyul be having inner monologue moments ig

“It was so romantic, Yul! He held my hand and gave me his jacket! I swear I think I might be in love with him!” Minju squealed, kicking her legs up from where she lay on Yuri’s bed. The younger girl sat beside her, deep in thought. What was the difference between her and Hwang Hyunjin? She always held Minju’s hand and gave Minju her jacket when she was cold. Why was it such a special thing when he did it? Yuri huffed.

“Yuri, you good?” Minju asked, turning her head to look at her best friend.

“Yeah, I’m fine dumbo. Just sick of hearing you sound like a lovesick puppy, that’s all.” Yuri joked, resorting to teasing in order to mask the pain in her chest; jealousy and sadness mixing together to leave harsh thoughts in the younger girl’s mind.

“Don’t worry Yul, no need to be jealous. I’m sure someone will ask you out soon.”

Yuri sighed. She sure was jealous, but it certainly wasn’t because she didn’t have anyone like Minju did. It was because Minju had someone that wasn’t her.

“Cheer up buttercup. Wanna watch a movie?” Minju asked cheerily, unable to detect any of the inner turmoil currently spiralling in Yuri’s mind. The older didn’t even wait for Yuri to reply, grabbing the younger girl’s laptop and opening netflix. Yuri could only sit and watch as Minju picked a cheesy rom-com before snuggling into Yuri’s side. An action that had happened thousands of times before was now making Yuri stiffen like a statue, afraid Minju would hear the thumping of her heart as she nestled into her neck.

‘Friendship gets a lot harder when feelings are involved’, Yuri thinks to herself.

Drip.

Drop.

Drip.

Drop.

Yuri’s eyes flitted over to the kitchen sink, taking a breath as the splashes of water could be heard falling from the spout, the only other noise in the room apart from the steady breathing and occasional page turn from the girl in front of her. She tried her best to let the water distract her, tried to get her mind to focus on anything other than her best friend in front of her.

But they just wouldn’t.

They just couldn’t.

Unfortunately for Yuri, some part of her just couldn’t bear to keep her eyes off Minju for more than a minute. Maybe it was the way her dark locks framed her face as she focused on her homework; maybe it was the way she chewed her lip in concentration; or maybe it was just everything about her that drove Yuri crazy. The younger girl sighed softly as her eyes raked over her friend once more, her unfinished homework a mere memory of the past as her mind became overwhelmed with the same thing it a;ways did these days - Kim Minju.

“You’re going to burn a hole through me soon if you don’t stop staring, Yul.”

Yuri jumped as her best friend finally broke the comfortable silence that had settled between the two of them. She cleared her throat abruptly, muttering out a small apology before looking back down at her half-written essay in an attempt to hide her now flushed cheeks behind her hair.

“I’m kidding, you dummy. What’s up? Are you stuck on your work or something?” Minju asked, leaning over the table to poke her friend on top of her head.

“U- Um no, I’m okay Min, don’t worry-”

“Yul it’s okay! Let me help.” The older girl said, moving around the kitchen table to sit right next to Yuri. The younger girl’s breath hitched at Minju’s closeness, doing her best to keep composed as Minju read over her page, leaning into her side to get a better look.

“Yuri, this is really good! I don’t understand what’s wrong.” Minju said, turning to look at her friend who was looking everywhere but back at her. Minju sighed before leaning onto the table, propping her head up on her hand as she tried to catch Yuri’s eye.

“Jo Yuri.”

“Uh, yeah?”

“What’s up with you lately? You’re not acting like the Yul I know, and it’s weirding me out. Is there anything you wanna talk about?” She said, her voice a bit softer now as she brushed a strand of hair behind Yuri’s ear. The smaller girl finally looked up at her, a sad look in her eye as she tried to speak to Minju, but the words just wouldn’t come.

Minju was right, and Yuri couldn’t deny it. She had stopped teasing the girl, stopped the skinship, just stopped being cuddly old Yuri around Minju. Yuri could tell that the older girl hated these changes and knew something was up, but she just couldn’t tell her. She would never be able to tell her that lately, her every thought, her every worry, her every concern.. It was all about Minju. While she had always loved Minju since they’d become best friends in primary school, it was a different kind of love these days.

Those brown eyes she used to look in were now galaxies that pulled Yuri in and the younger girl never wanted to look away.

Her vanilla scent that had always seemed just too sweet to Yuri was now a flavour she wanted to drown herself in.

The lips she used to smear ice cream on playfully to annoy the younger girl were now ones she wanted to kiss, over and over, and over again.

But, the fear.

The fear of losing years of friendship, memories, laughter, love… Yuri was way too afraid to say anything for fear she’d lose everything. Though it was hard being around the girl you love every day without being able to have her the way she really wanted, Yuri still kept quiet. She kept quiet around the only girl she was truly ever able to be her loud, bashful self around, and it was so obvious to the both of them that the balance in their friendship was majorly askew.

'Fear is truly a powerful thing when it wants to be', Yuri thinks to herself as she repeats the same excuse she’s given to Minju for the last few weeks.

“I can’t talk to you about this one, Min. But I’m alright, I promise.”

Minju nodded softly, a disheartened look on her face. Yuri's heart clenched in pain to see those eyes tinged with sadness, especially knowing it was because of her, but she just couldn't tell her. Not now, not when there was so much at stake.

The older girl sighed out once again, feeling dejected as she moved back to her own seat. Her mind was racing at a mile a minute, wondering what could be bothering Yuri so bad that she couldn't even tell Minju anything about it. The two had never kept secrets from one another before, so it truly hurt Minju to be iced out this way.

The girls worked in a now deeply uncomfortable silence, both of them stuck between an atmosphere of wanting to talk but also wanting to run away from the issue completely. It was clear to anyone that Yuri was the one who wanted to do most of the running.

Once the sun began to set, Yuri used an excuse of her mom calling her home, quickly packing her bag and darting out of the older girl's kitchen. This left Minju alone with her thoughts, which quickly began to spiral.

‘This isn't my Yul, something is seriously wrong here.

She's been iffy for a while now, but today was something more.

There had never been a second of awkwardness between us before, ever, but today...

It was almost hard to breathe, sitting in that horrible silence.

She can't tell me, but why?

The only reason Yuri would keep something from me is if it was about me...?

Is it about me?

Did I hurt Yul?

God. What did I do to make her so uneasy around me...?’

Minju shut her eyes tight in an attempt to block out her inner monologue, her head falling into her palms as she sat at the kitchen table. Yuri was her rock, her partner in crime, her... whatever! Yuri was someone she couldn't live without. The girl she relied so heavily upon was building a wall between them, one she had to break down before the last brick could be placed.

Minju could never last a day without Yuri, her Yul, by her side.

While Minju wallowed in her sorrows at home, Yuri fared no better. She said a quick hello to her parents, blurting out some excuse as to why she was skipping dinner and making a beeline for her room.

The young girl threw herself into her bed, letting her covers swallow her up, just as her emotions had been doing to her lately. She closed her eyes and desperately searched for sleep, but it never came.

Just as it had been for every night for the last few months, the same thing ran through her mind.

‘Minju,

Minju,

Minju.’

While she thought keeping her feelings to herself would keep their friendship afloat, it seemed that things were going downhill whether she spoke to Minju about it or not. Just why did these things have to be so complicated?

'Stupid Minju for being so stupidly irressistible', she thought.

Yuri huffed. Just why did Kim Minju think she could have so much power over her thoughts and emotions anyway? Stupid frog. Stupid Minju and her stupid charming smile, her stupid kissable lips, the stupid way she held Yuri's hand as they walked, the stupid way she cuddled closer to Yuri during sleepovers because she wasn't fond of the dark.

‘Stupid. It's all stupid’, Yuri thinks.

After going through a few more mental battles of anger and sadness, she finally found the sleep she had been chasing. So with one loud yawn and a flutter of her eyes closed, Yuri fell into dream land with only one thought remaining in her mind.

‘God, I'm so fucking in love.’

The next day went by, and both girls were left in radio silence. Minju felt the younger needed space, and Yuri didn't know what she was doing at all.

She spent her time mindlessly scrolling through Instagram on her bed, trying to keep her thoughts away from Minju. However, it truly was just her luck when the girl in question popped up on her feed. It was a picture posted by Hwang Hyunjin, and it was a selfie with Minju. She was pressed into his side, a wide smile on her face as he held her close to him. Yuri let her eyes drift down to the caption, her breath hitching as she saw the simple heart emoji on her screen. Her heart dwindled even further when she saw Minju's response; a matching heart emoji.

It was nothing out of the ordinary for the two, no sudden confession of love, but to Yuri, it just shattered her already torn heart once again.

A tear rolled down Yuri's cheek.

A bitter laugh fell from her lips as she pictured herself. 'Jo Yuri, crying over a fucking emoji?' What had become of her?.

She told herself that over and over again, but she knew it was more. It wasn't just an emoji, it was the fact that Hyunjin had a chance with Minju that Yuri could never even dream of having.

Hyunjin was just Minju's type. Tall, athletic, handsome - everything Yuri just about wasn't. She scoffed, cursing the boy in her head, wishing she hadn't seen it. Wishing these overbearing feelings would go away. Wishing Minju was by her side, holding her close and keeping her safe.

But wishing does nothing but remind people of what they don't have.

The weekend dragged by for both girls.

Minju spent most of it with Hyunjin, cuddling up and watching movies for hours on end. However, as happy as she thought she should be, it just didn’t feel that way for her. Hyunjin was lovely, he truly was, and he cared for her, he really did. But for Minju, it just didn’t feel right.

He just wasn’t Yuri.

He didn’t make her feel warm inside like Yuri did. He didn’t make her laugh by making fun of all the characters in the movies they watched like Yuri did. But Minju said nothing. Falling for anyone is scary, but falling deep for your best friend is even scarier. She never felt like Yuri would ever love her back so she did her best to move on and find comfort in others.

Hyunjin wasn’t Yuri. But if she couldn’t be with Yuri, then he was enough.

Just as it had for Minju, time also ticked despairingly slowly for Yuri who had spent the weekend without Minju for the first time in years.

By the time Monday rolled around, Yuri could barely drag herself out of bed for school. She haphazardly threw on her uniform while mentally preparing a plan for the day that would allow her to avoid Minju. She decided that if she can't be with her, she would have to distance herself. The pain of loving someone so close to you was more suffocating than anything Yuri had ever experienced before, she just couldn't take it.

However, Yuri's plan immediately went awry when she opened her front door and saw her best friend there waiting for her. Minju gave her a small smile, the gesture fading as Yuri didn't reciprocate it.

"Yul-"

"Come on, Min, we'll be late." Yuri said abruptly, speeding last the older girl. Yuri didn't want her to speak, hearing the soft tone in her voice only made her heart clench more for the brunette.

It took only a minute for Minju to catch up, the older girl stopping Yuri by grabbing her by the wrist.

"Yuri, we won't be late. Now will you cut the bullshit and just talk to me?" Minju said, her brows furrowing. Yuri looked away again, trying to find an escape from the situation. Minju grabbed the younger's cheeks, forcing her to look her in the eyes.

For a moment, Yuri's world stops. She almost forgets her predicament when Minju looks at her, her eyes holding a mixture of worry and sadness as she looks down at the younger of the two. In an ideal world, Yuri would have already kissed the pout off her face, pulling her back inside her home to skip school and spend the day wrapped in one another's arms.

But this isn't an ideal world.

"Yul, whatever's going on with you, we need to talk it out. You're my best friend! Who's gonna be there with me every step of the way if it isn't you?" She asked earnestly.

For some reason, the sadness in the pit of Yuri's stomach began to turn to anger at Minju’s words. She just couldn’t help it.

"I don't know. Hyunjin, maybe?" She asked, a coldness to her voice. Minju's hands dropped back down to her sides. Yuri already missed her warmth.

"What does Hyunjin have to do with anything Yuri? Why are you always like this when it comes to him..." Minju muttered, more to herself than anyone else.

"He has everything to do with this Minju. I'm like this because... because I don't like him. One fucking bit." Yuri continued, the anger bubbling up now. She knew she had no reason to get so pissed at Minju, or even Hyunjin, but sometimes, with love comes jealousy. Once that green monster rises up within her, Yuri finds it almost impossible to suppress it.

"Yul, he's really nice! He brought me on a lovely date this weekend, I'm sure you'd get along with him just fine! He-"

"Minju, don't you get it? Don't you get it at all?" Yuri's fists clenched with how hard she was trying to keep her tears in right now. Minju shook her head, fear gracing her features as she watched her best friend, the small girl now overcome with anger.

"I- I won't like your stupid boyfriend and I won't ever like him because-"

A hiccuped breath interrupted Yuri's words as a cause of the hot tears that were now streaming down her face, her balled fists not bothering to wipe them away.

"Because?" Minju pressed, needing answers.

But Yuri stayed silent.

"Yuri, jesus fucking christ will you just talk? Whatever you have to say can't be that bad-"

"Because I'm in love with you."

Minju froze.

‘She was what?’

"I'm in love with you Minju. I know you don't feel the same but I have to tell you because this weight, the fucking weight of being around you, being scared to touch you for fear I might fall even further, being scared to say too much in case I scare you away... it's too much for me Minju."

Yuri inhaled. She said it.

Minju was silent.

Yuri took it as a sign.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I let this come between us. I hope he treats you right." Yuri said finally, her tears falling even harder than before. She took one last look up at her best friend's face and wished desperately that she hadn't, because the look of shock there seemed to tell her everything she needed to know.

So she turned back to her house, trudging slowly as the consequences of her actions began to dawn on her.

With every step, she hoped, prayed, wished, for Minju to call her back, to hold her tight, to tell her everything would be okay. But she didn't.

So Yuri continued walking away.

Alone.

Two weeks had passed.

Yuri was lucky, with midterm rolling around she didn't have to make excuses to stay away from Minju or from school, locking herself up inside her bedroom for the two weeks.

As the days ticked by, Yuri tried to convince herself that this was right, and this was how life was going to be now. She didn't need Minju, she didn't need the pain or the heartbreak in her life.

‘But lying to yourself doesn't always work does it?’

It doesn't, Yuri thinks, as she spends another night staring at her phone. She waits and waits, willing for it to ring. She wants to hear her voice and her laugh, and talk to her about her worries. Minju had always been her safe place to go after something had gone wrong in life.

Where does Yuri go when Minju is the problem that went wrong?

(The phone never rings. Yuri doesn't get to hear her voice.)

There were two days of midterm left, and Yuri was dreading going back to school. She'd be obviously alone there, with no comfort of being able to pretend life doesn't exist inside the safe confines of her bedroom walls.

Yuri felt herself about to drift off into another countless nap, until her serenity was broken by a knock at her door. Her mom was there, a look of pity on her features.

"There's someone here for you."

Yuri nodded, heading down to the door. She stepped outside, looking down at her feet until she heard the sound of the other person clearing her throat.

"Yul,"

Followed by a sigh.

"Can you look at me, please?"

Yuri looked up, meeting eyes with the one girl she wanted to run a mile away from right now. Yuri couldn’t help but notice that she looked tired, and more worn out than she'd ever seen her before.

"We need to talk, huh?"

Yuri nodded, following Minju as she moved to sit on the steps of Yuri's porch. They sat in silence for a little while, until finally, Yuri spoke.

"Hi."

It was quiet, said in a voice small enough that would've been missed if Minju wasn't listening to the younger so intently.

"Hi, Yuri." She said with a soft chuckle, taking in the appearance of the younger girl. She had her hair in a messy bun, dressed in sweatpants and a baggy hoodie. Yuri looked straight ahead, feeling nervous as Minju surveyed her.

"You never let me speak, you know." Minju started, puzzling the younger girl.

"Huh?" She asked, turning to meet Minju who had a small smile on her features.

"Well, I know my Yul is dramatic but I didn't think it was this bad." She continued, chucking a small bit. Yuri wasn't impressed.

"Minju, if you've come here just to make fun of me, then you can go right back home." She said sternly, her brows only knitting further as Minju's chuckle turned into a laugh.

"Seriously, Yuri. You might be the stupidest person I've ever met. What kind of person confesses their love to someone then runs away from them before they can even reply?" She says, letting out a disbelieving laugh before scooting closer to Yuri.

"I... I don't know. You just looked shocked and I didn't want to be rejected by you so I just.. left."

"Yuri, what did I tell you about assuming things before they happen?" Minju said, her voice still teasing.

"What do you mean?" Yuri questioned, her eyes locking with Minju’s. She searched the other girl’s dark orbs for answers, but they revealed nothing, her features untelling of what the older girl was about to say next.

"I love you too, Yuri. You fucking idiot." Minju confessed, the end of her sentence turning to a whisper as she got lost in Yuri’s eyes. Just as the younger girl was about to speak up, Minju silenced her.

Closing the small gap between her face and Yuri’s, Minju couldn’t help but smile into the kiss as she heard her friend’s gasp of surprise before she began to kiss her back.

Minju’s stomach filled with butterflies. This was it, the feeling she was looking for. She never felt like this when she kissed Hyunjin, or anyone else. It was always Yuri.

It’ll always be Yuri, she thinks as she pulls away, admiring her best friend’s blushing features. They both stared at one another, neither wanting to be the one to break the serene silence that had enveloped them. It was Yuri who eventually spoke up, her eyes turning to crescents that made Minju’s heart race as she smiled.

"If being called a fucking idiot means I get to kiss you like that again, then don't ever call me anything else." Yuri said, half joking, half deadly serious. Minju couldn't help but start laughing at Yuri's dorkiness, the younger soon joining her. While they had spent so much time together over the years, not a single moment had ever made them feel as complete as they did now.

The two sat on Yuri’s front porch for the next few hours, watching the sunset as their hands were intertwined, Yuri's head resting softly on Minju's shoulder.

"I can't believe you were going to date Hwang Hyunjin instead of me." Yuri said, poking fun at Minju.

"Hey! How the hell was I ever supposed to know you liked me back? You have the emotional capacity of a pebble, there's no way I could've guessed!" Minju said, making the two of them break down into laughter.

"A pebble? That's so rude!"

"Yeah, you're right. I'm sure pebbles express their emotions much better than you do." Minju replied, a teasing lilt to her voice.

You're so annoying. You frog." Yuri said, her actions betraying her words as she nestled closer into Minju's side.

"A frog, maybe. But your frog at least." The older girl replied, pressing a small kiss to the crown of her head, smiling.

"Mm. My frog. My stupid, annoying, beautiful, frog." Yuri said finally, pressing a soft kiss to Minju's neck before closing her eyes and letting herself fall asleep against Minju, the fading sun still keeping her warm as the evening passed by.

Minju took a deep breath as she appreciated her surroundings. She had the girl of her dreams cuddled into her, a beautiful sunset in front of her, and a powerful feeling of warmth and love in her chest that she had never felt before. Her thoughts returned to the girl tucked into her side as she too began to close her eyes, letting her mind wander as she allowed herself to drift off into a peaceful sleep.

‘Jo Yuri.

Stupid Jo Yuri.

My Jo Yuri.’

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my-writings-and-musings · 4 years ago

Note

Please ignore this if you've gotten sick of this particular prompt, but may we please get another set of the Oxygen Deprivation scenarios, but this time with Ratchet and Megatron?? Regardless of if you do it or not, thank you for your hard work, I love everything you've written so far!

Thankfully I never tire of drama! I did the prompt for Megatron back in part three, but I've absolutely got some grumpy/caring medic for you! Thank you for taking the time to read my stuff and send in a request, it always makes my day!

Part One: Here!

Part Two: Here!

Part Three: Here!

Part Four: Here!

Part Five: You're Here!

Part Six: Here!

Part Seven: Here!

Part Eight: Here!

Part Nine: Here!

Part Ten: Here!

Part Eleven: Here!

Part Twelve: Here!

Ratchet

·You're in Swerve's with him for a nice evening off, something he enjoys a little more frequently than he used to thanks to the multitude of medics on board, but he appreciates every minute the two of you get to enjoy together regardless. There's hardly a lack of things to discuss, and you often find yourself listening to his stories until the bar closes and he has to carry you to berth. It's a little embarrassing for you, especially with every bot that knows thinking it's the cutest thing they've ever seen, but you admittedly enjoy being with Ratchet too much to care about how it looks. It doesn't hurt that he quite obviously enjoys it as well, especially when he's usually around those who only seek him out if they're sick, and he enjoys that he finally has an enthusiastic audience.

·The two of you are amongst the last of the patrons but still going strong one slow evening, with you perched atop a table whilst the older mech tells a story about a long ago incident in a medical lab where, upon being short staffed due to an ongoing battle, a patient had helpfully assisted with his own surgery. Though you're tired due to the hour, you're more than invested enough to keep your eyes open and listen along in fascination. It's not often he gets to go on like this, after all, and he looks absolutely adorable when he does.

·There's an unexpected flickering of the lights that stops everyone in their place, but it ends just quickly enough for the atmosphere to return to calm and for some bot to crack a joke about Swerve not paying his electric bill. You barely have time to chuckle before the whole ship is rocked like a boat on the open ocean, sending engex flying and glass shattering as everything not nailed down is tossed without a care, yourself included. Only the quick hands of an experienced medic save you from experiencing a not so gentle crash into the floor. Looking up once the dust settles to see Ratchet has you cupped safely in his palms, the two of you can't help but exchange a quick smile before the various bots around you start asking questions.

·Ratchet is quick to answer, keeping you in his hands to avoid the sea of broken glass as he stands. Any bot with decent battle experience on a ship like this recognizes what they all just felt, but being a bot who's seen more than his fair share of combat in space, he's able to explain that the size of the tremor indicates that they've been trapped by an enemy ship of smaller but not insignificant build. He gives them about five minutes before they're boarded, and instructs those gathered to head for emergency battle stations, as commands for defense will no doubt be incoming.

·Announcing his own intent to get to his post in the medical bay, the mech is quick to get going despite appearing outwardly calm, even promising Swerve he'll settle his tab when they get all this sorted. Holding you tight in one hand, he pulls up his communicator and tries to reach the bridge for specific instructions. To his frustration nothing comes through, and you find the same results when you make an attempt to establish communication with any top bot on your own communicator, prompting a few muttered swears from your partner. As usual, he's quick to get right to planning.

·Thankfully his designated task for any kind of emergency is exactly the same no matter the crisis; he heads to the medical bay and starts repairing the inevitable wounded. While you can't help with surgery, being that you're not much bigger than most of their tools, he posits that it makes sense for you to come with him. There's nothing more fortified than the medical bay, after all, so you can at least be somewhere safe. Though you're tempted to tease him about how obvious it is he wants you somewhere he can keep an optic on you, for now you decide to just settle in his hand and focus on what's ahead.

·Having been on many ships before this one, he's able to navigate with hardly a second thought, giving him a chance to keep his focus on you whilst he tries to keep figuring out the extent of the ship's difficulty. You can see him frown as he tries unsuccessfully to get his communicator working, and though you want to be stealthy for the sake of safety, you do want a better understanding of what's going on. Thankfully a human voice doesn't travel far through the hallways when spoken at conversational volume. Trying not to betray your anxiety, you ask if he can tell you anything about what to expect.

·Holding your tiny form a little closer, he hides the fact that he can see your apprehension clear as day, quite familiar with the brave face bots and humans alike will put on when in danger. Still, he certainly respects you enough to be honest. He explains that one ship latching on to another for an ambush these days is typically a pirate tactic, as they're more interested in selling the vessel afterwards or scrapping it for tech, unlike warring factions who will typically just blow each other up. There's probably already enemy forces on the ship, and they've certainly come well armed if they feel confident enough to take on Cybertronians.

·Your eyes dart around a little faster at that thought. Securing your hand against one of his digits, you remember they're sensitive enough to pick your heartbeat from just a touch, and the recollection stirs your affection whilst also making you think. If Cybertronians are so advanced, how can there be nothing working on this ship right now? Were there really no back up systems that could at least give you the basics? With the whole structure being the size of Manhattan, it'd be very nice to at least know if some areas might be safe, but then again bots tended to build things in a strange way. Nevertheless, your curiosity is so great you can't help asking a question.

·Ratchet pauses even as he keeps walking, his expression going distant in a way that initially makes you worry your query was taken with offense. But thankfully he speaks a second afterwards, looking inspired as he recalls a station of terminals not too far out of your path. It's more vulnerable, sure, but it also has physical connections to every part of the craft. He'd at least be able to conduct a system wide scan from there, and after that he'd have a much better idea of what they're up against. But he has to ask you first; are you comfortable with him taking the risk? Of course he'll always protect you, but there's a greater chance he'll need to do that if this path is chosen.

·You're smart enough to know exactly what he means. But there's a risk you'll bump into an enemy anyway, so wouldn't having a chance to get information like this be worth it? Oddly enough you seem more on board than he is with the plan, his friendly blue optics dimming with worry before you lay a comforting hand on his chest, smiling as you do so. This big mech cares so deeply for everyone, but you have a very special place in his loving spark, no matter how much he tries to pretend he's a grump. Your sentimental move seems to snap him back to hiding behind his mask, and he mutters something about feeling your heartbeat against his palm and how it's obvious you're nervous but if you say you're ready then he'll give this plan a try...

·For the sake of stealth he remains in bipedal mode, but he absolutely keeps you securely held to his chest, and you can't help but wish the circumstances were better because his spark humming beside you is impossibly soothing. Being held protectively by a Cybertronian is undoubtedly one of the most secure feelings in the world, you believe. Just being held by him in general though is enough to make you realize you're actually quite tired, enough so that you could absolutely fall asleep... Until he detects your slowing heartbeat and encourages you to stay awake.

·The terminal is in sight without a spot of trouble when Ratchet has to gently coax you awake for a second time, using a light nudge of his digit to encourage you to open your eyes once more. Though he knows the hour is late, your sudden sluggishness concerns him as a medic, enough so that he's now more intent than ever on getting some answers. Even without proof and a wealth of far more simple explanations, he's got a feeling something is wrong. A small part of his concentration is divided to keep a constant watch on your vitals.

·You're still alert enough to hear the incoming trouble just as he does; gunfire, shouts and general sounds of skirmish approaching rapidly down the hallway. Hearing him curse this unfortunate luck, you try to ascertain how long the two of you have until company arrives, but the noise is much too chaotic for you to gauge. Knowing Autobots will be amongst the fray is somehow far from comforting. Holding on tight to the hands cradling you so protectively, you look straight up just as the quick thinking doctor looks down at you, absolute trust in your eyes as you meet his optics. Whatever he decides to do next, you trust him with your life.

·The decision he makes isn't a spontaneous one, but it certainly feels like it as he barrels towards the terminals, holding his tiny partner to his chest as he runs. Knowing what's happening may well be the key to undoing any damage before it's too late. He can feel the heat of a few errant shots of blaster fire just as he gets his one spare hand on the keyboard, typing with speed he typically reserves for surgery as the world around him grows gradually more chaotic. Fortunately he only needs to hit a few buttons to bring up all the information he's looking for. Sharp optics start scanning whilst he uses his multitasking skills to keep track of everything else, listening for the threat and holding your little body close while he registers your pulse.

·The world around you feels like it's moving through water that thickens with every passing second, and neither the crackle of energy weapons nor the clanging of blades does anything to reverse the process. Even a shout from an Autobot warning Ratchet to move seems a million miles away. You know he told you to stay awake, but would he really mind if you got a quick nap in? After all, it's so late, and you're so tired, and you feel so safe in his sheltered grip... There isn't even a bit of worry in your mind regarding the fray. How could you be worried, here with the bot who would protect you always?

·Everything makes a terrifying amount of sense far too quickly. Ratchet is accustomed to the rapid responses his occupation requires of him, but for this singular instant he's frozen, optics locking on the atmosphere readout and hoping that he's simply misread it. A glancing but molten blow past his back forces him to accept what won't change, and he manages a combat roll just as the terminal is blasted by errant fire, the battle now within arms length as the same Autobot keeps encouraging him to move. He obliges only after sinking a fist into the face of an alien who wanders too close. After that, he's on the move without reservation, keeping you shielded with his entire frame as he runs.

·Your world spins without end even when the movement of everything beyond stabilizes, and you cling to the bot holding you for something to steady it all. God, what you wouldn't give to lie down and sleep... Ratchet is talking to you though, holding you so that you can see his face as he explains something about oxygen and taking deep breaths while focusing on him. It makes tragically little sense to you. Still, you feel bad as your eyelids grow heavy and your body turns to limp weight in his grip. Even your efforts to breathe as instructed feel like a failure. Of all the beings in the galaxy he's the one you want to dissapoint least, but his warm palms beneath you are so comfortable, and his spark humming in your ear is so soothing... You only hope he can forgive you for submitting to sleep.

·Ratchet knows he's powerless to wake you again, but that hardly keeps the agony from tearing at his spark. Seeing you go limp in his grasp, feeling your pulse weaken and grow irregular, hearing your breath stall... How long has it been since any medical emergency has reduced him to near panic like this? He's so invested in his task that his arrival to the medical bay only comes with orders. You're the human equivalent of a Fader, and so much of what he needs to save you isn't even ready to go! He needs to have a mask, a saline solution for dehydration, and oxygen of the exact content percentage you need to survive just to start... For the first time in eons he's terrified, even as it all comes together and he sees your vitals stabilize before his very optics, as all he can think of is how very close this came to ending tragically. As you're left recovering he quickly gets to work on other patients, throwing himself into the task so as not to worry, though his optics betray him on the regular with glances towards the berth supporting your tiny body.

·Wakefulness comes with a familiar digit resting in your palm, reading your vitals as you put together blurry pieces of a not so happy story. To your delight, a brightly colored chevron is the first thing you see when you open your eyes, and it's impossible not to smile when you roll your head over to look at the owner. Ratchet somehow looks more exhausted than you've ever seen him as he smiles back. He relays everything that happened in a way that paints him as an unimportant figure, up until you move your hand to rest atop his, your eyes filled with that same trust and admiration you'd given before he'd gone for the terminal. You want to communicate that you know how much you owe him. This brave, selfless medic who'd risked so much to give you his best and deserved the full credit for saving your life... Humility doesn't allow him to agree in full, but you're certain you can see peace in his optics, the kind he only seems to feel with you.

#transformers #maccadam #more than meets the eye #mtmte #lost light #idw #tf #transformers headcanon #my writing #my asks #anon #requests #ratchet #ratchet x reader #self insert #human reader

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bones-sprouts · 4 years ago

Text

SELF INDULGENT APOLLO JUSTICE ACE ATTORNEY AU BECAUSE IT BRINGS ME JOY ( SPOILER WARNING ⚠️‼️)

@burnoutandbookworms-ohmy you wanted to be tagged :>

okay so the cast would be as follows

apollo - tommy

phoenix - wilbur

trucy - tubbo

klavier - ranboo (this one's ambitious but hear me out-)

kristoph - dream

ema - techno

lamiroir - kristin

zak - phil (F in chat for mr minecraft 😔)

and then all of the filler characters would be various other smp members (suggestions?)

so then the plot would go as follows (we're bullet pointing this bitch you better run)

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

• so tommy arrives in the courtroom with dream, and he's nervous as hell, because not only is it his first trial

• his client is wilbur fucking soot

• world renouned defense attorney, now disbarred for forging evidence

• but tommy is 110% sure wilbur is innocent

• because wilbur is his HERO

• and then dream introduces them and damn he looks like shit

• i'm talking full pogtopia era get-up, plus a ratty beanie that has wilby painted on it and a crown pin

• so wil spouts the standard cryptic bullshit you'd expect from phoenix

• and tommy does an early smpe earth 'i am so cool and not at all starstruck' type act

• and they head in

• you meet the judge, who i didn't replace bc it's the judge

• tommy does his chords of steel, but with significantly more swearing then apollo would use

• and dream seems to be just a bit off

• and he goes on this big tirade about blue cards

• the case goes smoothly, until

• tommy feels something akin to a burning from the compass he's kept as a necklace for as long as he can remember

• and he just knows that the witness is lying

• it's like he can see the tiniest of tells that tip him off

• dream doesn't quite understand it, but wilbur looks like he knows exactly what's going on

• before he calls this out, though, a recess is called

• wilbur and dream have a chat, so tommy's left to his own devices

• and this boy about his age in a green magician's outfit runs up to him

• and he looks like an older version of the picture of wilbur's kid that he showed off in court beforehand

• and he hands tommy a (bloody??) playing card and poofs away

• then the trial resumes as normal, with tommy grilling the witness and eventually accusing her

• but it just doesn't seem right

• he knows she's not lying about being innocent, her tells would have tipped him off if she was

• but dream pushes and pushes him to formally accuse her

• until wilbur fucking soot interjects with an OBJECTION!

• while tommy geeks the hell out, wilbur asserts that there must have been someone else in the room

• and accuses dream.

• tommy's confused, and the both of them argue back and forth for a bit, until wilbur starts explaining his theory with evidence from tommy along the way

• but it's seeming like they don't have any non circumstancial evidence

• until wilbur has tommy pull out the playing card

• (i haven't been explaining the case but it makes sense i promise)

• they win the case, with dream never faltering or showing emotion, even after being taken away

• tommy's shaken up, but happy, all things considered

• but before he can ponder on what's just happened, wilbur takes him aside to talk

• and admits the card was forged

• tommy's shocked, and he's sad, and he's angry, because how could wilbur fucking soot forge evidence??

• and he punches him in the face

• wil smiles and gives him an offer to work at his office, since tommy's boss is kind of in jail

• tommy leaves

• but he comes back a few months later, only out of desperation

• he's greeted by the boy from the trial (wil's kid?)

• who demands to know his name and his 'talent'

• tommy says he's a lawyer and introduces himself

• the kid says his name is tubbo and that the building hasn't been a law office in a long time

• tommy asks to see wilbur

• so they go to see him

• in the fucking hospital

• he managed to get hit by a car, which sent him flying 40ft back into a telephone pole

• and he sprained his ankle

• he's very lucky apparently

• so from there, cases 2 and 3 play out (i'm gonna skim though these bc if i write them out ill end up rewriting plot points and i don't have the energy)

• along the way, they meet a few interesting people

• ranboo, a prosecutor who's dream's younger brother and the guitarist for a popular band, that tubbo immediately gets along with and tommy despises

• dispite seeming cocky, he's impressively awkward outside of court

• technoblade, a detective who's fairly standoffish towards tommy and tubbo alike, but has a soft spot for wilbur (do they have a history)

• kristin, a singer with a past she can't remember (unbeknownst to tommy, his compass tends to point towards her and tubbo. odd)

also before we move on to the final case, a quick summary of the dynamics and other small shit bc seritonin

• though wil adopted tubbo, they have much more of a sibling dynamic, and cause general mayhem

• wilbur does actually warm up to tommy fairly quickly (beanix and apollo dynamic, my abbhorrent) and while tommy still doesn't 100% trust wil, they do end up getting pretty close as time goes on

• tubbo and ranboo IMMEDIATELY hit it off, much to the dismay of tommy, and the two of them act like the dummy named micheal that tubbo uses for magic tricks is their son

• tommy acts like he hates ranboo's guts, but that won't stop him from trying to sweet talk his way into getting evidence from him (it always works, ranboo has no spine.) he also, like in canon, vents to ranboo whenever he needs to, and ranboo ends up knowing more ab him then even wil and tubbo

• jack is eldoon. they all go to his noodle shop constantly and tommy always complains about them being too salty. jack hates him with a passion but adores tubbo and wil

• instead of snakooos, techno deadass just has entire bags full of raw potatoes that he eats like chips, this is terrifying to everyone except wilbur, who acts like it's completely normal

• instead of pretending to be taken hostage in case 2, tubbo deadass pretends to have a nuke and threatens to set it off unless a recess is called. after things calm down they go back in and he just,, doesn't get arrested. the law is fucked

• after case 1, dream wears a smiley mask in order to not show his face, paranoid that tommy or someone else like him will know his secrets though his tells

okay now final case here we go

• wilbur tells tommy and tubbo that he's been working on a special trial with the jury system, and that he needs them to defend

• they agree, and go to meet the client

• things generally go like any other investigation, but there's just something about it that feels game changing

• and as they power though the first part of the trial, they start to uncover that there might be someone pulling the strings from behind the scenes

• tommy clocks her tell (chewing her nails) and they start to make progress

• but before they can uncover answers from her, she passes out

• a recess is called, and so are paramedics

• it turns out she's ingested the same kind of poison as the victim, coming from her nail polish

• tommy and tubbo are shaken up, and they go to wil for help

• he decides they need to know the full truth, but he knows that some of the evidence is lost at this point

(and holy shit stay with me here i promise that as out of left field this is the original game made significantly less sense)

• he phones a friend that he knows is the only one that can help them

• karl

• he explains the situation, and karl agrees to help them

• and they fucking time travel

(again, the game makes even less sense i promise)

• they chat with the victim and defendant from seven years beforehand, right after wil was disbarred

• they watch the trial wil got disbarred over, where he defended tubbo's bio father, phil

• and they see a much smaller tubbo hand wil the forged evidence, saying that a kind man told him to give it to the man with the bright blue hamilton suit

• and they watch wil present it, only to be shot down by a much younger ranboo, who proves it's fake

• and they find out tubbo and tommy are bio siblings, which they're shocked about but decide to talk about later (fuck canon tommy and tubbo get to know)

• and they go visit dream in prison

• at this point wil is CONVINCED dream is behind everything, they just need the right evidence

• so they head to the cell, only for it to be empty

• naturally, they start snooping

• wil finds a letter, and opens it to reveal exactly what they need to win the case

• but before they can leave, dream, equipped with a smiley mask, stops them

• they exchange a few words before they leave, letterless

• luckily, wil has a trick up his sleeve, and reveals that his crown pin has a built in camera

• they examine the contents of the letter, and wil hastily makes a replica, and they head off to the trial

• since they're experimenting with the jurist system for the first time, they can't afford to wait for the defendant to heal, so they proceed

• they call dream to the stand

• they grill him for quite a while, with the help of ranboo who refuses to protect his brother, getting him to show his true colors, and then pull out the letter

• and he says that it's a fake, which the judge unfortunately agrees with

• so they don't have their evidence

• and even though they've shown pretty much everything and dream had practically admitted to bring a murderous bastard and the one who gave tubbo the fake to give to wil

• they don't have enough to convince a judge

• tommy and tubbo are crushed

• but wil is happy

• because they don't have to convince a judge

• they have to convince a jury

• and they win

• dream shatters along with his mask, going completely off the deep end

• their client is safe, and so is wil

• kristin also reveals to wil that she's tommy and tubbo's bio mom, saying that she'll tell them when she's really

• so things come to a close

• for now, anyway

so yeah, thats AJ but dsmp, to anyone who didn't play the game, i'm so sorry this makes no sense, and to anyone who did, you're cool as hell can we be moots 👉👈

#i could do dd but i won't bc i hate dd #dream smp #tommyinnit #wilbur soot #tubbo #tubbolive #wilbursoot #clingy duo #dreamwastaken #ph1lza #mcyt #ranboo #technoblade #sleepy bois inc #loyal duo #allium duo #bee duo #bench trio

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wannabe-fic-writer · 4 years ago

Text

Natasha Romanoff x Reader : Prove Me Wrong

Summary: She can trust you, even if she doesn’t know it yet.

Warning: 18+ Mental Health, Mentions of Death, Mentions of Violence, Mentions of Domestic Abuse, Smut

y/ht - your hometown

Chapter 3

******

You can’t lie and say you weren’t a little scared.

It’s been two days since you confronted Natasha about missing her sessions and your mind has been reeling since then.

Perhaps it worked, or maybe your timing had changed, but you’d ended up seeing her around more. You would feel her eyes lingering on you when you passed by her.

She didn’t spend too long around you, just yesterday the two of you were in the kitchen together and before you could muster up the courage to say “morning” she was gone.

Today is Friday.

The second you wake up you’re blinded by the sunlight pouring through the windows. Had you not kept yourself up last night with anxious thoughts of today you would’ve taken the intrusion like a champ, blinking through the pain of the light, and jumping up with fervor.

But since that’s exactly what you did, you grimace at the light, and fall back on to the bed. You sling your arm over your eyes to secure the darkness around you and let yourself lay there thoughtlessly for a moment.

‘Miss Y/L/N you have a scheduled appointment with Agent Romanoff in one hour.’

Damn you for inputting your schedule into F.R.I.D.A.Y’s system.

“Thanks F.R.I.D.A.Y.”

A single minute ticks by and you fling yourself out of bed.

The shower you take helps to ease your state of mind, but you’re not fully relaxed until you take your first sip of tea. As usual, the warmth of it does wonders to your body and you hum in enjoyment.

Feeling like you’re now ready to face whatever is about to happen, you leave out of the kitchen.

When you enter your office you startle.

Natasha stands at your filing cabinet, back facing you, as she fingers through a manila folder.

“Stark made sure to put everything in here.” She comments, making no move to look at you.

Heart still pounding, you think of a reply,“ that’s what he said.”

The woman’s shoulders bounce when she scoffs,“ still playing at that huh? Do you think I believe that you didn’t read this?”

Your prolonged silence makes her finally look at you. She takes in your incredibly comfortable looking outfit, gaze lingering on the fuzzy animal designed socks, then snapping up to your face to see nothing. There was no expression there, just you watching her as she does you.

“Help yourself to any of the snacks in the cabinet or the drinks in the fridge,” you step around your chair to the other filing cabinet to pull out the empty notebook you had intended to use for her sessions,“ and feel free to make yourself comfortable Miss Romanoff.” You gesture to the couch against the wall.

Deciding not to let her intimidate you, you sit in your chair and stick your feet underneath you. All the while Natasha continues watching you.

Truthfully, with the knowledge that she’s already made up her mind on you, you wonder what’s making her watch you so intently.

When the woman moves to stand behind you, the hairs on your neck stand up. Goosebumps erupt, not in a sexual tension kind of way, but in a ‘she could kill me right now and I’d be helpless’ way. But you aren’t scared.

She leans down, arms crossing as she rests against the back of your chair.“ I don’t trust you Y/L/N. I don’t trust someone who doesn’t have a dark side.”

You shake your head,“ you don’t trust me because you don’t know me.”

“I think I do.”

“Tell me.”

Finally she walks around you. Instead of sitting on the couch, she sits on the coffee table directly in front of you.

“You were born in y/ht, father wasn’t around so your mother moved the two of you to New York. You went to a fancy little school in Brooklyn and had doors opened for you all throughout your academic career. Since you were born with your empathic abilities you automatically felt like you should help people so you majored in Phycology and Sociology and became a therapist after you graduated.”

Listening intently to everything she says almost makes you laugh, but you know she’s serious and you don’t want to insult her in anyway.

Sitting forward, you lean on your knees,“ it seems you didn’t extend to me the same courtesy I did you.” She quirks a brow.“ Anyone can read my file Miss Romanoff. That doesn’t mean you know me. They’re facts of my life sure, but that’s not who I am.”

Before you indulge her clearly curious mind, you sip at your tea, slightly enjoying making her wait.

Natasha isn’t stupid, you never even began to think that. She prides herself on knowing things so of course she looked into you before you even entered the building most likely. But as you said, a file can’t tell you who a person is.

“My name is y/f/n. I was in y/ht. My dad was around, always drinking and waiting to kick the crap out of myself and my mom, which resulted in me sleeping in a locked closet to avoid his anger. When I turned ten my mom finally left him and we moved to Brooklyn.”

She would never admit to being shocked by that but you feel that she is.

You continue,“ I did go to a fancy school but not a single door opened for me that I didn’t open myself. My powers manifested right before I enrolled in school, so when I got there my brain lit up like a power plant and I had no idea what to do about it. I struggled to get through school every day because it was too much to feel everyone’s emotions all at once. Which means my grades were shit for a long time.

I just barely made it through school and lucked into graduating. I didn’t learn how to handle my powers until college. Also, I became a therapist because I know if I had someone to talk to growing up I would’ve felt a hell of a lot better and decided that I’d like to help people in the way I hadn’t been. And for the record, I don’t use my powers with my patients unless given explicit consent to do so.”

Her mind is full of thoughts. She’s processing everything you’ve told her and trying to understand how she had missed all of that.

Natasha has been learning how to read people her whole life. She’s mastered the ability to conceal her true emotions behind what she want’s people to see and thought she knew how to detect when someone else was doing the same.

Apparently she wasn’t that good at it. Or she is and you’re just really good at hiding.

The sound of a plastic wrapper opening grabs her attention and she looks at you.

You bite into the sweet little pastry before looking at her,“ oh did you want one?”

She shakes her head.

Chewing and swallowing, you speak up again,“ you didn’t know because I didn’t want you too. I’m here to help the team, they all have more than enough going on, they don’t need to be feeling guilty about unloading their issues on someone who’s had a shitty hand as well. Besides I’ve worked past it and I refuse to let that define me.”

“I imagine it’s not easy to take on their emotions as well as your own.” She acknowledges.

“Nothing I can’t handle. And it’s worth it regardless of it’s difficulty.”

“Tony brought you in, I take it you worked with him before then?”

You shrug,“ we’ve spoken off the record a couple of times. I met him through Pepper who was my previous patient.”

She nods, just barely looking intrigued by that.

It’s quiet between the two of you for a while.

In said time you finished your tea, ate yet another snack, and reorganized Sam’s files(the man had taken it upon himself to put them away after your last session and started reading them, of course he didn’t put them back in the proper order).

Just as you’ve decided to go get some more tea she speaks up.

Her eyes had been on you this whole time, only now they lock with yours,“ you should lock your filing cabinets. It’s careless to leave them open for anyone to get to.”

“They are locked. Only myself and the patient who the cabinet belongs to can open it. Fingerprint scanners are on the underside of every handle.”

She narrows her eyes at you,“ how’d you get my fingerprints?”

You don’t answer, just giving her a smirk instead.

No, you can’t answer because you don’t know where they really came from. While talking to Tony about securing the files you’d obviously thought keys but he said that was too much and that he’d “handle” it.

Somehow he got the teams fingerprints and yours. But you shouldn’t have expected anything less of the genius billionaire.

“I’m going to get some more tea, if you plan to stay, would you like something?” You ask, stopping with your hand on the door.

Natasha nods,“ tea.”

When the door shuts behind you, you release a breath that you felt like you’d been holding the whole time. You drop your head, looking at your shoes as you think.

You don’t think she’s playing at any angle, in fact you know she isn’t. But you also know she’s avoiding.

You can be patient though. She’ll run out of things to ask you and if not you know exactly how to gain control of a conversation.

Deciding you didn’t want her to come find you lingering outside the door like a weirdo, you walk away.

Tony, Steve, and Bucky are in the kitchen when you get there.

“T, glad you’re here, I need a coffee maker in my office.”

He looks from Steve to you,“ I was wondering when you’d ask for one. Thought you were a robot for a minute there.”

You roll your eyes, greeting Steve and Bucky instead of replying,“ morning Steve, morning Buck.”

“More like afternoon but hey.” Bucky says.

Eyes wide, you look to the clock on the wall. It is indeed two in the afternoon. There’s no way you were in there that long with Natasha. You swear it was much shorter than that.

“Everything okay?” Steve asks, noticing the frown on your face.

You nod,“ just lost track of time.”

Tony scoffs,“ Romanoff givin you a run for your money huh.”

“I don’t discuss my patients Tony.”

No one misses the fact that you’re fixing two cups of tea though and that does make them wonder how you’re doing with Natasha.

While she hadn’t spoken to you she obviously talked to her team so they were privy to the way she felt about going to see you. Steve was worried that she’d be less than nice to you and Tony just knew she wouldn’t take to you too well.

He also knows you so he was sure you would get to her eventually.

Once you’re finally finished up you smile to each of them and leave out.

Entering your office this time, you partly expect her to be gone. So you’re just barely surprised to find her resting against your desk, flicking through the notebook you were writing in for her.

“I’m consciously deflecting in order to avoid addressing my traumas.” Her gaze flickers up to you,“ and what traumas do you think I’m avoiding Y/N?”

You move forward, stepping lightly, until you stop in front of her. Handing her a cup of tea you tilt your head a little,“ you tell me. While some people know exactly how to push trauma away, almost avoiding it completely, you accept yours and use it as motivation.”

A small, adorable hum leaves her lips as she sips the tea, but it’s quickly forgotten when she looks at you with those piercing green eyes. It’s clear she want to hear what else you have to say, but you’d much rather she talk.

“Miss Romanoff, I can only observe you and make my own conclusions but I’d much rather know the truth. And only you can tell me that. So I’m listening, whenever you’re ready to address the issue.”

With that said, you smile softly, and go to sit on the couch. Your actions cause Natasha to raise a brow. Admittedly she’s not sure why you chose to sit there instead of your own chair.

Simply put, you did so for her to feel comfortable. It’s clear Natasha feels comfortable when she’s in control and you’ve deduced that she doesn’t feel completely in control with you.

Giving her your seat is your way of handing her control. You’d learned that while the seat doesn’t mean control in itself, usually the person sitting in it(you in this case) drives the conversation. That’s how patients feel, in the beginning at least. It’s all mental really but it’s the best you can do.

Cautiously, Natasha sits in your chair.

“I see nothing wrong with being motivated by the past.” She starts, her eyebrow quirking challengingly.

You shrug,“ neither do I. I’m motivated by my past. But objectively speaking I believe your past is holding you back more than it motivates.”

“And let me guess, you can’t tell me how.” She smirks as if she’s won something.

“Nope,” you pop the P in the word and smile back.“ But that’s because I don’t know anything about you. We both know the only way that’ll change is if you trust me. And that will only happen if you keep coming to see me.”

When she stands to leave you’re expecting it.

“You know Miss Romanoff,” she stops at the door to look at you,“ I may not have dealt with issues such as the ones you and your team have presented me with, but I am qualified to do this job. I find it slightly offensive that you don’t trust me to.”

Just like before your words leave Natasha thinking that she has definitely misjudged you. And she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t intrigued by you.

******

taglist: @username23345 @muffliat-o @nat-km-mh @aaron-despair @natasha-danvers

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #black widow x reader #marvel #marvel x reader #mcu #mcu x reader #prove me wrong #reader insert

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crystalstar8 · 3 years ago

Text

Eye of the Sky

Ch. 2

Pairing: Namjoon x oc

Genre: heist au, action

word count: 1,791

warnings: action, violence, gun violence, car chases, car crashes, swearing, blood probably

notes: heist au, action, adventure, crime, enemies to lovers, ooc namjoon, because he has his license lol

Summary: Ten years ago, Namjoon's father was killed by his best friend and partner in crime, A man who now goes by the name Hawthorne. Now, Namjoon wants to get into the family business in order to avenge his father's death. After finding the man who killed his father, Namjoon builds a team and creates an elaborate plan to finally take the man down.

But will they be able to get through Hawthorne's state-of-the-art security system? And will they succeed with a mysterious assassin chasing them? Let's just say, it's a good thing Namjoon's team members keep surprising him with useful skills.

@mozy-j @strawberriewithchocolate-blog @daechwitad-2

In the top floor penthouse in downtown Seoul, Taehyung stood in his walk-in closet, tying his tie in front of the floor length mirror. He checked the time. Five minutes before he had to leave. A text from his driver let him know that his ride was downstairs. After pulling his jacket on and checking himself one last time, he left his penthouse and made his way downstairs.

The drive was quiet. Taehyung appreciated his early morning drives to the museum; it was a moment of peace before getting to work.

His museum was his pride and joy. The building was all white marble, Grecian in design with a massive atrium dome in the center of the roof. He built it himself, without his father’s help. Not that his father would have helped him even if he were alive. His father was killed when Taehyung was a teenager, but the man was never very present in Taehyung’s life. He was almost always overseas on business, a business Taehyung was now in charge of.

Taehyung never minded. He loved what he did. The thrill of it was almost as great as the wealth that came with it. The only thing he wished was different was the fame. He was the owner of the biggest private museum in Korea, not to mention the youngest, and with that title came press. He passed a billboard on the way to his museum, his own face looking down at the expressway.

Stealing famous art and priceless artifacts would definitely be easier if his face wasn’t on every Louis Vuitton cologne and Rolex advertisement.

His museum came into view and he was pleased to see he already had a line outside, waiting for the doors to open. There was a new exhibit opening today, and he was just as excited about it as the people waiting along the sidewalk.

Once he was in his office, his assistant came in with a frazzled look on her face.

“Sir, there’s a big problem,” she said.

Taehyung took a deep breath before saying, “What’s wrong?”

“One of our tour guides called in, he said he came down with something,” she said, frantically riffling through the disorganized mess of papers in her arms. “Which leaves us with only five guides. We’re going to be overloaded. There’s going to be children running around like monkeys, putting their filthy hands on the new exhibit-“

Taehyung grabbed his assistant’s shoulders and fought against the smile threatening to come out. This was just like her, panicking every time something small didn’t go according to plan.

“I will take his place,” Taehyung said.

“But, sir…”

“It’s my exhibit after all,” said Taehyung. “Who better than me to give the tour?”

“Are you sure? People will recognize you,” she said. “Your most recent photoshoot for Hyundai is currently trending on Twitter. You’ll distract from the exhibit.”

“I am sure,” said Taehyung. “I don’t think I’ll be a distraction.”

His assistant gave him a skeptical and not at all placated look as she left his office.

The museum doors were finally open and visitors were pouring in. The crowd was split up into six different tour groups, and Taehyung began his speech throughout the new exhibit. Quite a few eyes were glued to him rather than the exhibit, but he paid them no mind.

A few tours later and something caught Taehyung’s eye through the crowd. He stuttered in the middle of his speech and stared wide eyed at the visitors waiting for him at the entrance.

“Everyone, if you would please pardon me for a moment,” he said. “Please be responsible and follow the signs through the exhibit. Another guide will find you in a moment.”

Taehyung pulled his earpiece and microphone off and pushed through the crowd of visitors. He made it to the front doors of the museum and stopped in front of two men, his smile dropping.

“What are you doing here?” Taehyung whispered.

Jin smiled and said, “What, we’re not allowed to visit an old friend?”

“I’m working,” said Taehyung. “You can’t bring this here-“

“Meet with us tonight,” said Namjoon. He handed Taehyung a slip of paper. Taehyung took it and slipped it into his inside coat pocket without tearing his eyes from them.

“I will speak with you later,” he said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I was in the middle of a tour.”

Taehyung backed away from them and then made his way back to his tour group.

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

“How do you know he’ll actually show up?” Jin asked as they drove back to Namjoon’s apartment.

“He will,” said Namjoon. “He lives for this kind of thing. Literally. He does jobs like this for a living.”

“I thought his museum was honest now,” said Jin. “Doesn’t he do modelling now too?”

“Oh, sure. His museum is honest alright,” said Namjoon. He took the turn into his parking garage. “If by honest you mean every single piece on display there was stolen one way or another.”

“Doesn’t he buy or…” Jin began.

“Sometimes. But most of the time, he acquires them himself,” Namjoon said as he parked the car. Jin’s Mercedes was parked beside them.

“I’m glad we have him on our side then,” said Jin. They sat in silence for a while before Jin said, “Well, I will see you later tonight. Tell your mother I say hello.”

“I will,” said Namjoon. Jin opened the passenger door and stepped out, getting right into his own car beside them. Namjoon waited a few minutes after Jin drove off before leaving the parking garage himself.

The prison loomed over Namjoon as he stood in front of it, leaning against his car. He didn’t have to wait long before he saw his mother step out of the double doors. He smiled as they met in the middle. His mom wrapped her arms around him and held him in a crushing hug.

“My son,” she said, her voice wobbly. “My beautiful son. Look at you.”

She pulled back and held his shoulders.

“You’re so handsome,” she said. “I mean, you’ve always been handsome, but there was that weird awkward phase you had-“

Namjoon scoffed and rolled his eyes as she burst out laughing.

“I missed you, mom,” he said.

“I missed you too.”

They got into the car and Namjoon began the drive back home.

“How’s your sister?” his mom asked.

“She graduated yesterday,” said Namjoon. “She wants to be a school teacher.”

“Good. I knew she’d be successful,” his mom said. “She’s a smart girl. You both are. How are you? What have you been doing with your life?”

“I work for a tech company in Seoul but I’m planning on leaving them soon,” said Namjoon. “I have a lot of work to do for my new job. Jin says hi, by the way.”

His mother narrowed her eyes as she scrutinized him. “You’re planning something, aren’t you?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” said Namjoon, keeping his eyes on the road.

“Well, I suppose it’s none of my business, as long you keep me out of it,” she said. “Whatever you’re up to, you know I won’t stop you. I just want you to be careful.”

“I will,” said Namjoon. They drove in silence for a while before he said, “I’m taking us out for dinner tomorrow to celebrate Geongmin’s graduation.”

“I can’t wait to see her. Why didn’t she come with you today?”

“She’s busy with interviews today,” said Namjoon. He chuckled at his mother’s shocked face. “I know, she doesn’t waste any time, right?”

“Good for her,” his mom said.

After getting home and helping his mother settle into her new apartment he had bought for her next door, Namjoon spent some time getting ready for his own meeting. Jin arrived early, then Taehyung shortly after. Namjoon served them drinks and then sat with them around his dining table.

“So, tell us the plan,” said Jin.

“Hawthorne’s collection is underground,” said Namjoon. “Behind a safe door that only opens with a password and thumbprint.”

“How are we going to get Hawthorne’s thumbprint?” asked Jin.

“We won’t,” said Namjoon. “Because that’s not the print we need. The only thumbprint that will open the door belongs to his son, Laurel Hawthorne. Laurel is the heir to the entire collection.”

“Ah! Laurel Hawthorne!” Taehyung exclaimed. “I’ve worked with him in the past. Not a fan.”

“You’re going to have to meet with him one last time to get the prints,” said Namjoon. “We’ll set up a meeting with him, where you’ll fake a sale. We’ll have someone hiding nearby with a tranquilizer gun. Once we take him out, you’ll nab his prints and we’ll be out of there.”

“This sounds dangerous,” said Jin.

“Inside the collection room is where the real trouble begins,” Namjoon continued. “Hawthorne uses a state-of-the-art technology to protect his collection. The security system inside uses gaseous detection. Once the door is opened, the room fills with a harmless gas. If there’s any kind of movement behind the barricades of the artifacts, another gas is released into the air, turning it toxic. From there, the person inside the chamber will only have a few minutes before dying. Once the security system is neutralized, and the cameras are placed in a loop, we’ll be able to just go in and take what we want. We’ll obviously replace everything with fakes, especially the Sky’s Eye, the item we need to leave with.”

“Ah, the Sky’s Eye,” said Taehyung. “I had a feeling the necklace was what this was about. But I thought only one man has been in possession of the Sky’s Eye for ten years.”

“You are correct,” said Jin. “Hawthorne is the very same man.”

Taehyung’s eyes widened as he made the connection.

“Hawthorne is Montgomery,” he whispered. “So, this job isn’t just for the necklace.”

“We’ll do all of this on the day of Hawthorne’s party, while he’s distracted,” said Namjoon. “We just need to find a way to get an invitation.”

“Yes, that will be difficult,” said Jin.

“Do you know anyone who’s going?” Namjoon asked Jin.

“I might,” he said.

“Do you think it’s someone you might be able to go with as their date?” asked Namjoon.

“Oh, trust me. I would die to be this man’s date. He is the most handsome man in the world, after all,” said Jin. Namjoon narrowed his eyes. Jin burst into laughter, slapping his knee and pulling an envelope from the pocket inside his jacket.

“You had an invitation all this time?” asked Taehyung.

“Of course!” said Jin, laughing and slapping his knee. Namjoon shook his head but couldn’t help a fond smile from pulling at his lips.

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re-diesirae · 3 years ago

Text

18. Claire

She was restless, but she couldn't explain the reason behind it. It was an odd sensation in her guts, called instinct or survival paranoia, but she just kept having that uncomfortable feeling of being followed. The corridors were well lit, and that sort of soothed her fears. As long as there was light, she could breathe a little easier. Maybe it was only her nerves playing a trick on her, but she could swear she had heard something over her head.

The research center was well provided. It was even better than the one they had at Terra Save NA, so finding it in such a state of chaos was a pity. The researchers must have distrusted the security of their online data since they kept physical records, too, in other words, paper. While Chris's men worked on the central computer extracting the data, she paced around the shelves peeking at random folders. She had been so focused on deciphering the coding that the researchers used that she didn't notice Leon arrived by her side.

"Found something interesting?"

"You could say so," she replied as she picked up another folder. What she found inside made her frown.

The familiar lines of letters greeted her cerulean eyes as she read the file.

1 atgccggcag aaaacaagaa agttagattc gaaaatacta cttcagacaa agggaaaatt 61 cctagtaaag ttattaagag ctactacgga accatggaca ttaagaaaat aaatgaagga 121 ttattggaca gcaaaatatt aagtgctttc aacacagtaa tagcattgct tggatctatc 181 gtgatcatag tgatgaatat aatgatcatc caaaattaca caagatcaac agacaatcag 241 gccgtgatca aagatgcgtt gcagggtatc caacagcaga tcaaagggct tgctgacaaa 301 atcggcacag agatagggcc caaagtatca ctgattgaca catccagtac cattactatc 361 ccagctaaca ttgggctgtt aggttcaaag atcagccagt cgactgcaag tataaatgag 421 aatgtgaatg aaaaatgcaa attcacactg cctcccttga aaatccacga atgtaacatt 481 tcttgtccta acccactccc ttttagagag tataggccac agacagaagg ggtgagcaat ...

Claire wasn't a prodigy student, but she was capable enough to recognize what she was reading, and her doubts were confirmed when she saw the notes written under the sequences. Those were genomes and, judging by the coding, viral genomes. She flipped through the folders and realized that no all of the genomes were viral. There were some bacterial genomes and parasite sequences listed, as well.

God...what kind of Frankenstein were they trying to create?

"It seems like they were trying to make a new virus-based on multiple pathogens. These are viral genomes, but these are bacterial genes..."

"Why doesn't it sound new to me?"

"Yeah, I guess you must be sick of hearing it, right?"

Claire spent much of her free time diving through this sort of thing. She could even cite sequences of some viral genes, but to Leon, a senior agent of the secret service, the class of biology would most likely be boring. She kept flipping through the folders until a small mark caught her attention. The researchers had marked some of the genomes with two different colored codes: PJMorpheus and PJLyssa.

She was about to show it to Leon when she heard a sizzling over her head, and her eyes turned immediately to the ceiling.

"Did you...hear that?"

"Hear what…?"Leon replied, and she saw the confusion on his face.

Just great. Not only do I hear voices in my head. Now, I can hear noises, too.

She tried to focus her hearing, to see if she caught on the noise again, but then one of Chris's soldiers said he had finished copying the data. A wave of relief fell over her. However, as soon as it had arrived, the same feeling turned into anxiety. Something about the facility of the mission made Claire uneasy. Where were the monsters?

With the information safely copied into the drive, they were one step closer to leaving that place, and that was good news, but for some reason, the restlessness was still there. It was like a needle that kept pricking Claire's gut as she walked through the corridor. When they turned the last corner, she saw the doors of the elevator, and a sense of relief filled her. Unfortunately, the relief was short-lived.

" STAND BY. STAND BY. SYSTEM MAINFRAME VIOLATED. FACILITY REBOOT IN TWO MINUTES MAINTENANCE PERIOD. "

"What the...?" Hunter snapped.

"Shit...Maybe our hacking triggered the security system."

"Just great, well done, Cement. Now what?"

"Calm down. It is just a system reboot. Probably the generator needs to restart. It's a security mode when it gets overheated. It'll cut the energy for some minutes, not a big deal." Clement said.

The rest of the group seemed relieved that there wouldn't be a self-destruction protocol on its way, but Claire began to panic. There was something horrible about the idea of walking around the place in the darkness, and she wasn't sure why, but she had a bad feeling about it. Claire quickened her pace, trying to match with the team's but then…

SWISH

The redhead stopped in her tracks and looked back. The lights from the corridor were starting to shut down one by one. Like an old horror movie, she saw the darkness was coming closer with each fading bulb. If it had only been darkness, Claire wouldn't have felt so panicked. The problem was, the shadows didn't come alone.

Claire heard a soft whistle in her ear, and she realized that there was something else lurking inside the blackness.

"Run," Claire said out of sudden, startling the group.

They all looked at her quizzically.

"What?" Barry asked.

"Is something wrong, Claire?" Chris asked.

Through the shadows, they come. Demons with a thirst for blood.

Two long claws emerged from the darkness impaling the body of the soldier called Hunter. He'd been the one assigned to watch over the rear and, by default, the one closer to the shadows as it approached. Muller and Bailey began shooting, trying to help their fallen comrade, but the disgusting crunch was enough to make Claire know the man was long gone.

The body fell to the ground in an awkward and humanly impossible position, making a sickening crunch. Panic ensued as the soldiers began shooting in all directions, trying to hit the "invisible" attacker. The thing was, it was not invisible. Claire could see it in the blackness: thin, elongated, pale.

"Don't waste ammo!" Claire cried, recognizing the beast, " The bullets won't harm it. That thing moves in the darkness. If we lose the light, we are dead."

"Ok, what do you suggest?" Chris asked.

"Yeah, run!"

They began running as fast as they could. The wave of chasing darkness was right at the group's heels. Claire managed to catch a better glimpse of the creature that hunted them as it moved closer. Unlike the one Leon and she had seen outside, this one was smaller and, by the looks of it, female. She could see the pale skin that covered the curves of the naked body. It could have been taken by as a regular person if it hadn't been for the abnormally long fingers that ended in black sharpy nails and the twisted faceless head. The lack of facial features seemed to be a common trait in the new strain: none of the specimens they had encountered so far had facial features except a largemouth.

The monster scratched the walls with the tip of her nails, making a creepy screech. She could hear her as she moved closer under the black veil of darkness. Their run was interrupted by another scream; this time, Muller had been the victim; the sound of tearing flesh and cracking bones made her feel sick.

"What the hell is that?" Chris cursed and visibly upset about losing to men in a matter of minutes.

"Is one of the new mutants." Leon said, "These bastards are tough ones, Chris..."

"Was it hiding all this time?" Jill said, reloading her gun.

"No, it's photosensitive! The fluorescent lights must have kept them away, but with the system reboot and the energy out, it took the chance of the lights going off to attack us. We need to stay a secured light if we want to stay out of reach." Claire replied, " or at least stay safe until the energy is back!"

You know the odds are against you.

The annoying voice was back. Claire tried to ignore it, but the voice suddenly seemed to be a lot louder than usual.

They are all going to die here, and it'd be your fault.

Claire kept trying to ignore it. The voice not only annoyed her, but it seemed to make her clumsier. Suddenly, she felt a great pain rip her right shoulder, and she flew against a wall. One of the monster's claws had, painfully, impaled her shoulder, pinning her against the metallic wall. She could see her white blouse start to go black as the blood began to spread through the fabric.

Then she felt an acrid warmth in her face, and she saw the monstrous face in front of hers. The monster did not attack, and instead, it seemed to... sniff her?

"CLAIRE!" she heard many voices shout.

The screams echoed through the corridor, followed by the blast of gunfire.

Claire could not describe the pain she was feeling. It was a mix of a burning sensation and pulsating pain. She couldn't move, and her breathing was becoming difficult.

"You son of a..." she heard Chris shout, followed by a wave of bullets.

But the creature barely reacted to the attack. The creature's "face" had gotten close to hers, and Claire could feel the uneven breathing on her. Maybe it was the fast blood loss or the sudden headache that pierced her skull, but her surroundings were beginning to blur. She could barely make out the screams and shouts her friends and brother were doing.

SYSTEM RESTART IN THREE MINUTES.

The electronic voice echoed. Three minutes? If she could manage to stay alive for three minutes, then maybe she had a chance to make it out.

BIOHAZARD DETECTED. STERILIZATION PROTOCOL INITIATED. FACILITY WILL BE PURGED IN TWO MINUTES. PLEASE EVACUATE THE BUILDING.

Fuck. Claire thought; if they didn't do something, they would all die here. She caught a glimpse of Chris and the remaining team shooting at the monster, the flashes of the fire barely lighting their expressions of frustration and worry.

You know what you should do.

She couldn't let them die here.

Are you brave enough to do it, though?

She heard Leon shout something.

This was supposed to be something you faced alone.

Jill screamed something to Chris, but she didn't understand it.

Two are dead already. How many more will you kill?

One, she thought.

"Chris!" she shouted as loud as the pain let her, "Chris, get the hell out here. Forget about me."

"Don't even think about it. I am not leaving without you, Claire."

"You have to. This place...is gonna blow up. You...need to...get...out with that...data."

"Don't you dare say it, Claire? NO, simply no..." Chris growled stubbornly.

"For god's sake, Chris...I can...distract it long enough for you all to leave. JUST DO THE RIGHT THING. The data is more...important….than my life and you know it. What's one life...in exchange for millions that...could be saved?"

Chris did not reply. Claire knew her brother was painfully aware that her words were the right; she trusted that he'd do the right thing.

Chris...

"I am not leaving you! You can't expect me to just leave, damn it!"

Claire could feel the pain in her brother's voice. She knew abandoning her was hard on him. It'd been hard for her, too, if it had been the other way around. The creature put pressure on her shoulder, and she had to bite her lip to avoid screaming. Her cries of pain would only make it harder for Chris.

"Christopher Redfield!" she screamed with the little energy she was feeling, "GET YOUR ASS OUT OF HERE ...AND IF YOU REALLY WANT TO HONOR YOUR WORD AND MAKE ME PROUD...TAKE THAT...DATA AND DESTROY THE ...BASTARDS WHO...DID THIS!"

Her words finally seemed to reach him. Chris clenched his gun so hard that it almost seemed as if he was trying to bend it. His face showed his hesitation and pain. It broke Claire's heart.

FACILITY WILL BE PURGED IN ONE MINUTE. PLEASE EVACUATE THE BUILDING.

The light of the elevator came through the opening doors, and she saw how the soldiers were fighting to pull Chris in; Jill and Barry grabbed Leon, who, like Chris, did not seem delighted about the idea of sacrificing her. Claire saw them enter the small space in slow motion, she felt sad, but at the same time, she knew she had made the right decision.

She could feel the creature's nails tearing apart the muscles of her shoulder. She would die in here, but not as mutant food. She heard the countdown start like a distant voice; when the counter ran to zero, Claire lost the sense of everything as the fire and heat surrounded her.

-END OF PART I-

NOTE: if you guys want to come and chat about the fic, or just about CLEON in general. Feel free to drop by the discord and say hi! JOIN SERVER

#Cleon #my fanfiction #my fanfic writing #claire redfield #claire x leon #leon x claire #leon kennedy #Resident Evil

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msmarvelouswinchester · 4 years ago

Text

Love In Sin

Chapter 5

Summary - Special Agent Winchester is forced to go undercover with his frenemy Special Agent L/N when they try to track down a notorious drug dealer. How will Y/N and Dean complete their task? Will their relationship worsen or will new feelings emerge between them?

Pairing -AU Detective!Dean Winchester x Reader

Series Warnings - Angst, Slow burn, Fluff, Implied Smut, Mentions of crime and drug, Swearing.

Chapter Warnings - Slow burn, Swearing

Word Count - 2.3k (this is probably the longest chapter in the series)

A/N - I was supposed to post this in two parts but here ya go folks!

Beta'd by the amazing @deanwanddamons (she is awesome)

The dividers by the talented @talesmaniac89

Series Masterlist

“I'm never organising a party again! I am exhausted!” you exclaimed sitting on the floor.

Dean let out a low whistle as he looked around the room full of streamers. He had been out to do the grocery shopping in the meantime. He came back with a bunch of food items and pie. That man really loved his pie.

“I knew you worked better with food in your system” he laughed.

“Shut up!” you grumbled, “we need to go and meet the neighbours now. Let them know about our party.”

“Now?” Dean raised an eyebrow at you.

“Dean, the party is tomorrow.”

“Why can't I get some alone time with my wife?” He pouted.

“What?”

“You know we haven't christened the bedroom yet,” he wiggled his brows, making you roll your eyes.

“Don't you think you are taking this undercover a bit too seriously?” Raising your finger, you poke his chest. He immediately grabbed your hand, pulling you close.

“I like roleplay,” he smirked. You jerked your handout of his grip and glared at him.

“Okay, okay. Let's go.”

You got up and went to your room to get changed into something better than the pants and oversized t-shirt you were wearing.

“Where ya goin’?” Dean asked, following you into the room.

“Get out, Winchester. I need to change,” you said and pushed him out of the room.

“You know I am your hus-” He started saying in a cocky tone, but was cut off by you yelling ‘Shut up’ to him.

You changed into jeans and a flannel and finally came out of your room.

“You look great.”

“Thanks,” you said blushing slightly. Can this man just stop complimenting you every now and then?

You and Dean approached the first house which was apparently Castiel’s .

You rang the doorbell and waited for someone to open the door.

“Yes?” A young boy of around twenty opened the door..

“Hey, is Castiel there?” you asked.

“Dad? Yeah sure. Wait here. Let me get him,” the boy said and went back inside the house, leaving you standing in front of the door which he had closed with a slam.

“Who's ask-oh hey! The Campbells right? That was my son, Jack. Come on in,” Cas said and gestured at you to follow him.

You went inside the house and took a seat on the couch. Castiel's house was beautiful. It was full of antique collections. There were also beautiful antique portraits on the wall.

“Hey! Cas told me you guys moved in here today. I'm Meg,” The woman greeted you both, and took a seat on another couch in front of you.

“Hey. Nice to meet you. I'm Y/N and he's Dean. You have a really beautiful house.”

“Thank you. It's all because of Cas. He loves to collect antique pieces and now our house looks like a museum. You just got married right? That's a really beautiful ring,” Meg said, glancing at the ring on your hand.

“Thank you but it was actually his choice,” you said looking at Dean, “so he deserves all the credit.”

“You two make a cute couple,” Meg grinned. You blushed at her words and nervously tucked your hair behind your ears.

“Thanks. We are actually here to invite you and Cas to our housewarming party. Tomorrow at seven,” Dean said.

“Oh we will be there, for sure!” Cas smiled.

“Awesome. So, as we are new here, can you tell us anything about the other neighbours?” Dean asked, hoping to get some information out of Meg and Cas.

“We have been living in this area for almost two years now. It may come off as a beautiful neighbourhood but actually it's the worst. No one talks to anyone and some of the neighbours are downright rude,” Meg said, clearly annoyed by her neighbours.

“Really?”

“Yes. There is Rowena. She lives two houses down from us. She is extremely sophisticated, she is the CEO of the company called Herbs and Magic.It's a company which produces organic skin care products,” Meg said. She definitely had a lot of information about the people living in the area.

“So, she is like the queen bitch,” you joked.

“No. Actually she is kind of polite. The queen bitch is Amara. She lives with her brother Chuck . I think you may know Amara. She worked on “Love in Sin” and a bunch of other films.”

“Yeah, I have heard of that film, not that I have watched it. This neighbourhood is really one of a kind,” you chuckled.

“Tell me about it,” Cas laughed along with you, “I don't know why Meg loves this neighbourhood so much. All the people who live here are assholes.”

“Hey! Not all of them. There is Mick Davies and Arthur Ketch - they seem like nice people and you know why I chose this place. It's easier to get to work from here.”

“Well Mick and Arthur haven't talked to us at all,” Cas rolled his eyes.

“Where do you work?” You asked.

“I work at Chuck's company.” You shared a look with Dean.

“Chuck Shurley? The producer of the film Love in Sin?"

“Yeah that and he is like the God of the business industry!” Meg exclaimed, "You know about the Carver Industries which deals with automobile manufactures?"

“Uh-yeah, of course we have heard of him,” Dean said, "Rich neighbourhood!"

“Anyways, thank you so much Meg. We have wasted a lot of your precious time. We should go now. We have others to invite too,” you said and got up from the couch.

“It was so nice to talk to you. Let's meet up some other time. You know, just a girl's day out,” Meg said.

“Definitely! I love to have a girl's day out with you,” you said and Meg pulled you in a hug.

“And they are already making plans,” Dean joked, making Cas laugh out loud.

You and Dean left the Novak household and went to invite the other neighbours - all of them definitely lived up to their reputation.

“Well, that was interesting. The Novaks don't seem like someone to be the right hand person of Crowley. Rowena is the CEO of a company - why would she need to be partnered up with a drug dealer? And the Shurley’s? How did the bureau forget to mention such an important detail?” You asked.

You had ordered a pizza because you neither had the energy nor the will to cook.

Dean hummed at your words and bit into a slice of pizza. “We need to keep a close eye on all of them. The Shurleys are our top priority.”

“Yup,” you said and noticed Dean typing on his phone after he was done eating.

“I have briefed Mr. Singer about today's incidents. Let's call it a night. We have to be on our toes the whole day tomorrow,” Dean said, making you nod in agreement.

Your eyes trailed up his body as he stretched his hands, his biceps flexing under the thin material of his unbuttoned flannel. You continued to stare as he yawned and shook his head.

“Like what you see, sweetheart?” Dean said, a stupid smirk on his face. Your heart fluttered in your chest as you blushed at him - this man was surely doing things to you.

“Shut up,” you grumbled and left to go back to your room.

“Night!” You heard Dean call out to you.

“Night,” you replied to him.

You woke up in the morning to find an arm draped over your stomach. You froze when you realised it was Dean's arm. What was he doing in your bed? You remember clearly you went to bed alone in your own fucking room.

Dean was still asleep. He was spooning you from behind, his hot breath fanning against your bare skin which was not covered by your tank top. Goosebumps erupted on your skin. So he was a cuddler - no that's not the important thing now. Why was he in your bed?

You tried to remove his arm from your stomach and started to stir beside you.

“Hey, morning,” Dean said in a gruff voice. You looked back and saw him greeting you with his eyes closed. Damn that son of bitch for looking like a model from one of the fashion magazines in the morning whereas you looked like you had just fought a war.

“Morning. What are you doing in my bed?”

“You don't remember?” Dean asked, finally opening up his eyes - he really did have beautiful eyes.

“Nope,” you said, popping the ‘p’.

“So all that effort went to waste? Awesome,” Dean groaned and rolled to the other side of the bed.

“What happened Dean Winchester?” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“You had a nightmare. I woke up to hear you yelling and then your gorgeous mouth started saying my name. I tried to wake you up but you had turned into a sleeping beauty and I was too tired to kiss you awake so I climbed into the bed with you and voila! You calmed down and I think I fell asleep here,” Dean shrugged.

You observed him for a moment. He was straight up lying to you. If you had a nightmare that bad you would have remembered it. Why was he lying to you or maybe you really didn't remember? You wanted to ask him, but instead decided to drop the subject.

“Well then thanks. My nightmares are pretty intense,” you played along, “ready for today?”

Dean nodded and got out of your bed but stopped at the doorway and turned towards you.

“If you want to talk to me about your nightmares, I'm here for you, sweetheart,” he gave you a small smile.

You both got freshened up and Dean offered to cook you breakfast. You came down to the kitchen after some time to find Dean setting a plate of homemade waffles on the table.

“Smells nice in here,” you said.

“It tastes even better,” Dean gloated.

“Okay smartass,” you mumbled and sat down at the table. You ate a piece of the waffle.

“God Dean, these are so good,” you moaned, “you are an amazing cook.”

“I know,” Dean chuckled when you kept moaning after eating every piece of the waffle. You looked up at Dean and saw the tips of his ears had turned bright red and he was shifting uncomfortably in his seat. You immediately became embarrassed when you realised what you were doing. Your face became hot with embarrassment.

Dean cleared his throat and got up from his chair.

“I am going to take a shower,” he said.

“But you didn't eat your waffles.”

“I-uh,” he cleared his throat once again, “I'll eat those later.” Dean left the room in a hurry. You kept eating your breakfast in silence and decided to take a shower and get ready for the day after you were done with your food.

You went up to your room and grabbed a pair of fresh pants and a sweatshirt. You made your way towards the bathroom but before you could go into the shower, you collided with Dean, falling ungraciously on your ass.

“Shit, sorry,” he said and extended his hands at you.

You looked up at Dean and swallowed hard. He was shirtless and only in a towel. He had just come out of the shower and his hair was still wet, tiny droplets of water lining his hair and chest. You grabbed his hand and he pulled you up to your feet.

“Sorry, fault’s all mine. I-” your eyes travelled down to his body. You saw him smirk a little. That cocky bastard.

“My eyes are up her L/N,” Dean said.

“I-I should go,” you said, picking your belongings up from the floor and going to the bathroom.

The rest of the day until the party started was uneventful. You lazed around the house, occasionally asking about each other's lives and discussing about the case. Dean said since he was ‘the best husband in the world’ - his words, not yours- he would cook for the guests and you agreed with him, knowing you were a terrible cook yourself.

It was almost an hour before the party started, so you decided to start dressing up for the party. You decided to keep it simple and also because you had one dress with you. You chose a navy blue cocktail dress and paired it with some blue earrings. You looked at yourself in the mirror and your attention went to the diamond ring on your finger. It was for a job, but it still felt weird to look at the ring.

“You ready?” Dean knocked on your bedroom door.

“Yeah.”

“People have started to co-” Dean's words got stuck in his throat as he let his eyes roam your body.

“You,” Dean cleared his throat, “you look beautiful sweetheart.”

“Thank you,” you bit your lip to stop the blush which was threatening to spread on your face, “I'm almost done.”

You gave the final touches to your makeup - you chose to go for a light makeup. You took your phone from the nightstand and stepped your foot out of the room but was immediately pulled back by Dean, turning you around so fast that you almost had whiplash.

“Sorry, didn't mean to surprise you,” Dean said, “we are newly married, we should be a little handsy - honeymoon phase, as they call it. Maybe we have to kiss when we are downstairs,” Dean reasoned.

“Okay,” you said, nodding your head.

You left the room, swaying your hips a little but you couldn't hear the groan that left Dean’s lips.

“Hey gorgeous! You look lovely,” Meg exclaimed and pulled you into a hug as soon as she saw you coming down the stairs. That girl was such a hugger.

“Thanks Meg. Right back at you.. Where's Cas?” You asked looking around the room.

“Looking for me?” Cas popped up behind you, startling you, “you guys got yourself a lovely home.”

“Thank you guys!”

“Hey! Sorry but can I borrow Y/N for a second?” Dean came down the stairs and asked your neighbours.

“Yeah sure, Campbell,” Cas said and you followed Dean into a secluded corner of the house.

Let me know if you want to be tagged in the series!

Feedback is appreciated!

#supernatural #jensen ackles #dean winchester #spn #supernatural fanfic #dean winchester fic #dean x reader #love in sin #dean winchester x reader #au dean #au spn series #au dean x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfic #dean fanfic #dean fic #au dean winchester x reader

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thelittleredheadedmusician · 4 years ago

Note

Halloween prompt: Alfred is getting increasingly annoyed at whoever is eating the halloween candy. No one will confess. (Bruce is sitting in a corner somewhere with a bag of... [insert Batfamily appropriate candy here])

Three Musketeers

Rating: G 1,844 words Gen AO3

Bristol was technically in Gotham City limits. Though the gilted mansions and private woods with pastures and stables seemed like a whole other world in comparison. The residents liked to think so too, especially because – despite Gotham’s robust public transportation system – it was almost impossible to reach the rich suburb from the city proper. It was because they lived in this separate world that Bristol’s wealthy residents often fought to receive special treatment or even secede from the city all together.

Except when it came to Halloween.

The residents of Bristol were more than happy to hold their trick-or-treat night during the same time as the rest of Gotham. Mostly, because it discouraged the city’s poorer residents from coming out to ask for literal handouts from them. The time it would take to sit in train stations and bus stops to get there ate up a large chunk of trick-or-treat’s two-hour window. And the walk from the last stop and between the houses took up the rest.

Despite all this, many made the trek out to Wayne Manor and its residents always made it well worth the work.

It was known that the Manor didn’t simply give out full-sized candy bars, no, they gave a whole bag of king’s sized bars. And from the entrance way to the ballroom off to the side were decked out and fitted to be a haunted house with games and entertainment and even more snacks. There was no reason to go anywhere else when you went to Wayne Manor.

Except, this year the seemingly endless supply of candy was mysteriously missing in the week leading up to the big night. Which was ironic considering the Manor was populated by detectives.

Alfred was suspicious. And annoyed. But mostly suspicious. He had raised the world’s greatest detective and then helped raise the current world’s greatest detective. In addition to the other seven vigilantes he’d actively cared for over the years. And countless others who hadn’t lived under his roof. Which meant that he was extremely hard to pull something over on. Extremely.

Yet, his stockpile of trick-or-treat candy was gone. Completely. And his list of suspects was long and skilled.

First, was Barbara because he loved the young woman dearly but she was a bit of a chocolate fiend. Also, if he could rule her out then he could enlist her assistance. It was easy enough to make her coffee just the way she liked and message her to come to the kitchen when she was working in the Cave one evening. She was happy enough to come up, thinking it was just for a chat but knowing something was up when Alfred passed her the mug.

They studied each other from across the long wooden table that took up the far side of the kitchen. Alfred sipped his tea from the good china that after the last family debacle was his alone to use. Barbara narrowed her eyes as her glasses slipped down her nose. They were playing a high stakes game of chicken and they both knew it.

Barbara broke first. “Is there something you wanted to talk about, Alfred?” she asked sweetly, setting her coffee down and pushing her glasses back up in the same movement.

“Now that you mention it, yes. I was wondering if you happened to know where my trick-or-treat supply is disappearing to?” Alfred’s lips turned up in kindness, but his eyes were hard and steady as he held her gaze.

An adult, a seasoned crimefighter, an honest to god superhero and yet Barbara wanted to wriggle in her chair, knot her fingers in the hem of her t-shirt, under that look. Pure willpower was the only thing that stopped her. Though it didn’t extend to her mouth. “No, I’ve been out of town most of the week.”

This was true, Alfred knew, but not necessarily an airtight alibi.

“Besides,” Barbara continued, “I have a Costco card. The Birds and I split it. If I wanted to eat a whole bag of candy, I’d just buy my own.”

Alfred nodded, lifting his tea to take another sip. He accepted that answer, she knew better than to lie to him. “In that case, might I enlist your skills to uncover the real culprit?”

This was what Alfred had truly wanted to ask, they both knew, and Barbara smiled in delight at the prospect. “I’d love to.”

The next suspect was Tim. He knew exactly how to cover his tracks and misdirect their attention. Tim was sly, smart, and still technically a teenaged boy so sugar was irresistible. Barbara set the trap, crashing the Batcomputer one afternoon when everyone else was out. This forced Tim up, out of the Cave and to Alfred lying in wait in the kitchen.

Tim had climbed up onto a kitchen chair to get at the stash of poptarts on the top shelf of the cabinet above the stove. Proving that he had means, motive, and a record.

“Master Timothy,” Alfred drawled as he stepped out of the shadows. Bruce had to learn the skill from somewhere.

Startling, Tim whirled around and nearly fell from the chair. Dropping the silver packet in the process. It landed on the tile with a crunch. “Look I need the brain power to get the computer back up,” he said hastily, glancing guiltily between Alfred and the fallen junk food.

“I am not here to reprimand you about the poptarts,” Alfred said and Tim immediately relaxed, shooting him a relieved little grin. “But I may have to reprimand you for sneaking something else,” Alfred continued, causing Tim’s face to fall.

“I swear, I only had the one Monster the other week. And I split it with Kon ‘cause we were trying to keep Bart from drinking it. Me and him on an energy drink bouncing round the Tower is way better than a speedster on an energy drink.” Tim’s eyes were wide and the blood that had drained from his face made the boy almost impossibly paler.

Alfred lifted an eyebrow at the confession. Not what he was looking for but good to know all the same. “And what of the candy for trick-or-treat?”

Tim’s brows drew together in confusion. “Uh, I don’t know? I suggested we get milkyways but if you got snickers again then I’m not going to complain.”

“So, you did not eat the supply?” Alfred confirmed, though the fact that Tim was already feeling guilty and hesitant to lie on top of the fact that he had no idea Alfred had purchased boxes of three musketeers cleared him of the crime.

“No?” Tim shook his head as he shrugged.

Satisfied, Alfred nodded. “Enjoy your poptarts, Master Timothy. I shall be moving them shortly.”

“It wasn’t Jason,” Barbara said over the phone. “I have a couple different angles of him being in Paraguay all last week.”

“I never suspected him to begin with,” Alfred admitted as he pushed the shopping cart, restocking for the big night tomorrow. “He never liked three musketeers. Dark chocolate kit-kats are a separate story.” He smiled at the memory of a young Jason carrying a huge box of the candy bars to drop in the cart during his first Halloween with them.

“Cass and Dick are out too,” she continued. “Cass laughed at me when I even suggested it and then confirmed Dick was telling the truth when I questioned him.”

Alfred hummed. Richard had been his next guess, though he was more likely to take them to hand out while on patrol or pass on to his friends’ children than to eat himself. “Master Damian is innocent as well. He scoffed at the implication he would, quote, ‘stoop so low as to steal candy from children.’ He also vouched for Master Duke and neither were anywhere near the spare pantry recently to begin with.”

“Security cameras confirm that.”

“That leaves Miss Stephanie,” Alfred frowned. Stephanie tended to decline any offers of assistance from the Manor’s residents that weren’t directly related to masked vigilantism. Though she recently had allowed Alfred to slip her gas money when she visited during daylight hours. The thought of her taking the Halloween candy just did not sit right with him. It was almost as impossible to imagine as Damian taking it. Cassandra was more likely to be playing a trick on them all, having hidden it for some soon to be revealed reason. “Are you positive Miss Cassandra is not the culprit?”

Barbara chuckled. “I mean, not really. But at the same time why would she? Though why would Steph either? I don’t think it was either of them but I can vouch for Steph. She hasn’t been anywhere near the Cave or the Manor since last month. What with school she’s been staying close.”

“Which leaves us back to the beginning,” Alfred sighed and got in line. “We could create a sting operation though I’d loathe to lose this supply as well. There’s nearly no candy left in the entire state.”

“That I believe. Alright, I’ve got the feed from the events kitchen running on one of my screens. I’ll keep an eye on it for the rest of the night, see if anyone stupid enough to try it again.”

“Thank you, Miss Barbara. I really appreciate your assistance in this matter,” Alfred told her before exchanging their goodbyes. He had plans for a little stakeout of his own.

Placing the boxes in the spare pantry, Alfred settled himself on a stool next to the industrial fridge in the dark. He typed out a careful message in the family’s groupchat informing them all that the missing candy had been replaced and politely asking that it not disappear again before the next night. They would all be getting ready to go out for the night so there is no doubt they would see it. And he would have plenty of time to wait for them to strike.

Hours later, the family was returning and Alfred was still lying in wait. A creak echoed in from the ballroom where decorations were mostly in place. The light padding of rubber soles on the marble tile came closer and closer. Alfred leant further back into the shadows as the door swung open. He held his breath, waiting as the guilty party walked into the kitchen proper, headed directly towards the pantry. Alfred slipped from his hiding spot, keeping low as he crept around the island to come up behind the culprit.

Alfred contained his gasp of shock and annoyance as he flipped on the light. Forcing the candy thief to whirl on him. “Master Bruce!” Alfred scolded. He hadn’t thought his first charge would do such a thing and hadn’t even considered him as a suspect.

Having the good sense to look ashamed and like a ten-year-old boy again, Bruce offered a wavering grin in apology. “You bought three musketeers,” he said as his only defense.

Alfred frowned as he crossed his arms. “And your penance will be handing them out tomorrow night.”

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shadow-scenarios · 4 years ago

Note

Omggg how you wrote out my request certainly surprised me but I totally enjoyed what you did with it!! And you said that you'd love to write a second part? Well, may I perhaps request that? 👀👀 (P.S.: I'm really relieved that you liked the idea haha, I've been sitting on it for awhile)

Hey again, simulationone!! I’m happy you like the direction I look it in. I was going to have the Reader become Akechi’s Navigator but I think that was a better direction to take it. Also, I tried a different style with this one, so I hope you like it!!

I loved the idea, it was so unique! If you have anything else that you want to request, you’re more than welcome to. By the way, this is suuuper angsty. If you don’t like that kind of thing, skip this post!!

Link to Part 1 here!!

- Nexus.

Trigger Warning: Major Character Death ;; Blood ;; Violence ;; Injuries ;; Swearing

Dance With Justice [2] | Goro Akechi

Perhaps there was a reality where she never had to hurt anyone. A world in which the Phantom Thieves never existed & justice was never an issue. Everyone could simply be happy without any concerns. However, thus was not her current fate.

This was never supposed to happen. She was going to die here, stuck in Mementos until she bled out.

{ Sat, 23 / 10 / 20XX }

Akechi had laid the plan out to her on this day: He had been given an opportunity to meet with the Phantom Thieves at the Shujin Academy. In particular, there was a panel in which a Q&A style show was being held. All they had to do was attend & imply they knew the identities of the Phantom Thieves before he ‘ inconveniently received a phone call ’. Afterwards, the group would be forcibly assembled in the Faculty Room & there they would unfurl the evidence. The photos the both of them had gathered & the video of them disappearing into the Metaverse.

As a result, they would be forced to stop committing their crimes after they took down the Palace of one individual in particular: Sae Niijima. He did admit that he was afraid for the life of his colleague because she was investigating the Phantom Thieves. If they were the perpetrators behind the metal shutdowns, she might be targeted next because she was seen as a threat.

However, there was one thing they were not to be informed about. The additional plan to arrest their leader as a warning of sorts. Additional police forces were to be sent out into the Metaverse & they would corner him when he was alone. It was quite simple but effective. All they had to do was cooperate with them.

This was all communicated to her over lunch in the school rooftop & she nodded, steeling her resolve.

{ Wed, 26 / 10 / 20XX }

Alas, the school festival came too quickly. The first day was ‘ unimportant ’, according to Akechi { although he did look rather embarrassed when she asked what happened with the Phantom Thieves... }.

It was about 20 minutes before the panel was due to start & she had already taken a seat somewhere near the centre. People were already gathered at this point because the Famous Ace Detective: Goro Akechi was going to be answering questions. Frankly, she found it quite creepy the levels most fans went to in order to see him.

Eventually the debate began. Makoto Niijima, student Council President, was hosting & essentially demanded answers related to his detective work reguarding the Phantom Theives. It was immensely impressive how he managed to dance around the answers, giving something vague yet satisfying. Was this is the life of a celebrity?

The question about the identity of the mysterious group soon came up. As her cue came, she texted him & there was the sound of Akechi’s ringtone going off. Silence spread through the auditorium in a strange mix of disappointment & comedic timing. After making a remark along the lines of not wanting to be trolled online, he quickly requested that a break be tacked on.

Quietly, she moved her way across the row & slipped out before the crowd could congest any corridors. The PE Faculty Office was easy enough to find, with many students easily offering directions. Slipping in before anyone else, there he stood.

“ Akechi. Are you ready for this? There’s no going back after we present the evidence. ”

“ Of course. The Phantom Thieves are a menace to society & by getting rid of them, people will finally feel safe in Japan. That’s what you want as well, right? ”

“ Yeah. Murderers aren’t welcome. ”

Once they had all entered, she presented the photographic evidence & introduced herself. Ryuji was in shock. Makoto seemed to be struggling to process the information. Explaining how both herself & Akechi had met, she pressed onto the point: Sae Niijima. She had to be saved from the mental shutdown culprits. An agreement of sorts was made by their rather stoic leader Akira. They would all work together to solve the cases.

{ Wed, 16 / 10 / 20XX & Thurs 17 / 11 / 20XX }

After the initial investigation into Sae’s Palace, keywords & location, these were the days of infiltration, so to speak. The Casino of Jealousy was vibrant & full of money. Coins were messily spread around on every single surface, posters containing snappy tag lines about how winning was key to survival. It was all so decadent. Cognitive shadows lined up for a chance to participate in the game known as the legal system. What a sick way to look at justice.

Despite the crimes they had committed, the Phantom Theives were very casual. They showed no symptoms of guilt nor doubt & insisted on these strangely flashy moves such as the All-Out Attack or the Showtime, in which they would defeat a bundle of enemies all at once. Although they were powerful, did they really feel the need to show off that much?

The other problem was their leader, Joker. He was tenaciously gripping onto both herself & Akechi { or Crow, was it? She never understood the need for the ridiculous code names... } to remain on the front lines to see what they could both do. Despite having bounds of energy at the beginning & regular breaks, it was quite tiring to keep having to constantly battle. Perhaps that was why she ended up being held captive by a Shadow.

It demanded Yen & safety. It was not a substantial amount of money & the Palace’s supposed ‘ Security Level ’ was not particularly high. She had seen how Akira had been picking through remains of the corpses of these beings, as they contained Yen. For some unknown reason during the negotiation, he simply refused to part. Apparently Joker, the supposed leader of the just Phantom Thieves believed some money more important than an ally.

Even as the shadow tore through skin & left almost fatal wounds, it hurt more to reaffirm her belief that the Phantom Theives were merciless.

Waking up was a surprise to be sure. To be greeted by Akechi in the nearest Safe Room asking if she was okay? It was very much a shock. He offered to patch up the wounds that were unreadable by her own hands & scolded her for being so reckless on that battlefield. It was good that both Queen & Mona were on hand, otherwise she would have died. Despite the presence of the other members of the group, this felt like a rather intimate moment.

The two of them kept having these strange moments: Delicately & intimate but as though something was missing.

A touch that lingered for longer than it needed to; Comforting words on a cool evening when she felt upset; Sitting within close proximity despite there being more space for the two of them than needed. Small signs that seemed to be hesitantly trying to convey something.

Even now as she paused to take in his appearance, it was startling. Dressed up in his princely regalia that was his Metaverse outfit, he looked rather charming. With golden tassels & a red cape, something about him seemed to just ooze noble. Though at times he could be slightly extra with the poses he pulled, Akechi was kind.

That was why she never saw it coming.

{ Thurs, 18 / 10 / 20XX }

Signaling for a meeting, Akira explained that they were going to write & send the Calling Card today. The debate about where to send it was long, strenuous & boring. After they eventually decided to be direct by mailing it to the Niijima residence, everyone disbanded for the day.

Aside for Akechi, who invited her to play Darts in Kichijoji. What a strange request.

The atmosphere was actually rather calming. At night, there were few around to disturb them. Handing over 800 Yen to play, the game began. It was nice to simply be able to talk about something unrelated to the Phantom Thieves for the both of them & although Akechi’s aim was unerring, she found it rather difficult to hit the tiny target, let alone land it in a specific place to score as many points as possible. After a while & with some expert advice, there was definitely some improvement.

By the time night struck, she had barely noticed until he had pointed it out. Everything was moving so swiftly. Offering to walk her to the train station, he was ever so polite. Until it rained.

It absolutely poured down with rain as the two of them descended the stairs of Penguin Sniper. Luckily, she had packed an umbrella into a crevice in her bag. The detective next to her? Not quite as fortunate as he sighed. Feeling bad, she offered to share & he accepted with reluctance after realising that it was better than the alternative of running home in the rain.

Being this close was both enthralling & embarrassing. Something about being forced this close to him was killing her. Akechi seemed to be doing alright, staying underneath to avoid both his hair & briefcase from becoming drenched by the cascading water. After a while that was in some respects a long time but in others not long at all, they reached the train station, parting ways when they had a difference in train line.

She knew exactly what she was feeling: There was no use in denial. Repressing such feelings would be more painful in the end. However, now was not the time to tell him. Catching the Phantom Thieves & saving Japan was more important than a high school romance. Filing the secret away for later, it was kept close to her heart.

{ Fri, 19 / 10 / 20XX }

It was almost too easy how quick everything was to fall into place. Putting on her best acting face was difficult but it was a believable lie, especially when most of the stress was based around getting Joker out alive. All their valiant efforts were for nothing. Similar to a spider spinning a web to catch prey, they had fallen victim.

After facing down the shadow of Sae Niijima herself on this strange roulette like battlefield, her desperate desire to achieve victory at all costs was her downfall & as she fell to her knees, clearly defeated, Queen went over to comfort her. Skull took Fox with him to steal the Treasure & once they discovered the numerous police forces that had made their way into the Metaverse, everything was taken up a notch.

Whilst Joker agreed to take the Treasure, thus becoming a distraction, everyone else would take the time to escape back to reality. A makeshift plan but one that would work in both her own & Akechi’s favour. Dashing along the protruding walls of the casino was thrilling as the group moved in sync, grappling along & weaving through like a natural born instinct.

Inevitably, he was captured. The leader of the Phantom Thieves, put behind bars. People would be safe from the mental shutdowns, they would no longer have to worry about having a psychotic breakdown. Without the branch that held them all together, there were no roots. As to not arouse suspicions, everyone parted ways until Akechi stopped her.

“ I... Know it’s rather late & we’ve just been to the Palace but there’s something I need to warn you about in the Metaverse. Will you join me in Mementos tomorrow morning? Preferably before school, if that’s okay with you, ” was all he requested with a ghost of a smile.

“ Sure, I don’t mind. Is there something else dangerous I should be worrying about? ”

“ It’s nothing too urgent but I thought I’d bring it to your attention since we are working on this case with the Phantom Thieves together. After all, we still need to hold the others accountable for their actions. ”

With that, she left. Akechi had always been a reliable source of information, so why would he lie?

{ Sat, 20 / 10 / 20XX }

It was the early morning. Despite the cold, she was in warm spirits as she approached the Shibuya line. Waiting there for her was the Detective Prince himself. Overnight, there was a decision made that once Akechi broke this bad news to her that she would change the mood by confessing. After all, it would be difficult to keep under lock & key.

Fading into the background as other students filtered in, they talked for a short period of time before getting down to business. Typing in ‘ Mementos ’ to the MetaNav was easy enough & there they were, standing at the dusty entrance.

Together, they fought their way down into a few floors below the surface. Although it took longer for them to traverse these levels due to not having a method of transportation such as the Mona Car, the Shadows were easy pickings for the two of them. At least, that is what she thought until two laser blasts from a ray gun burnt into her back.

Standing over her was a very different Goro Akechi to the person she had preciously known. What was once a charismatic smile that could charm anyone become a psychotic grin that looks unnaturally wide. Though she had once thought of his eyes as a storm of emotions, worries about the future & the safety of Japan, they were most definitely a typhoon, pulling victims in to tear them apart without a trace of mercy. Even as he called her a blind fool for trusting him & berated her sense of justice, the burning pain of the wounds that burnt through the Metaverse outfit were clouding her vision. She could have sworn there was the sound of someone walking away but there was too many sensations for her to clearly tell.

No one was going to find a dead body in the depths of Mementos. She found it morbidly ironic that her last thought was that she would never be able to tell Akechi how she truly felt.

Word Count: 2.3k

Publish Date: 06.10.20

#{ crow }#{ oh boy did I want to name this Dance With Justice 2: Electric Boogaloo }#goro akechi x reader #akechi x reader #goro akechi #persona 5 royal x reader #persona 5 x reader #persona 5 imagines #persona #p5r #tw: death #tw: blood #tw: injuries #tw: swearing #tw: violence #{ why is this my longest work what the heck }

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