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ren-therose · 4 years ago

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You Are Like Me (Pt. 1 of "Winter's End)

Roommate!Bucky X F!Reader

Summary: You and Bucky begin rooming together after Sam discovers your background and suggests you live with him. . As another failed HYDRA experiment with an enhanced skill set, Sam decides that you, the newest recruit who shares a similar path with the Winter Soldier would benefit from living together.

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Cursing, semi-spoilers for FATWS (but nothing plot related, just set during that time).

A/N: This started out as a one-shot for our man Bucky Barnes, but now there will be multiple pieces with this as the wonderful starting piece to the story. I don't know how much the parts will be reliant on a plot, but it will all be based on the same love story throughout. The parts don't necessarily need to be read all together and in order. There will be a variety with this couple, varying from angst to smut, fluffy fluffy FLUFFY shit, and some very depressing stuff too. I hope that these different pieces fulfill all your Bucky needs and help you feel like you really have a developed and copasetic relationship with this lovely gentleman.

"Jesus, who the hell are you?"

I had been laying on a neatly made bed in the apartment Sam had signed me up for. I was staring at the ceiling mindlessly as an old record player spun, emitting the scratchy tones of classic 1940s music. In my hand was a small journal, opened to a blank page towards the middle of the book. My eyes shot open, my hand grabbing a knife from the back of my pants as I launched myself off the bed and towards the unfamiliar man in the doorway.

Before the knife could reach his throat, cool metal met my wrist, stopping my arm in its track. I was practically on top of the dark man in front of me, staring up into his bright cerulean orbs. He seemed almost amused by this first introduction. Almost. The glimmer of humor left his eyes as soon as my knee made contact with his groin, causing him to keel over, as I maneuvered around him to be behind, using his arms hold on me to choke himself.

"I could ask you the same question, blue eyes," I said with a snort. I realized quickly he wasn't an enemy, but the continued power struggle was fun enough to let it play out. Before I could plan my next move though, I was flipped over his broad shoulders, and square on my back, the impact knocking the wind out of me. I looked up through my lashes, trying to focus my eyesight as the splitting headache blurred my vision. Standing above me, the man let out a soft chuckle as he stepped over me, making his way over to the bed and sitting on the edge. I slowly lifted my head, still dizzy from the landing, as his eyes followed the outline of my body.

I was still in my training clothes, too tired to have changed out of the tight tank top and cargo pants. I had been perfecting my combat technique so that I could fend for myself, but it seems I was not yet ready to fight whoever the stranger in my room was.

"Here," he started, getting up from his place and reaching his right hand out to me. I stared at it for a moment, not sure if I should give in or not, though I could tell I would have to. I placed my hand in his, surprised by the contrasting warmth I felt compared to the hand he had caught my wrist in. He quickly pulled me up, causing me to launch into his chest, my left arm quickly wrapping around his bicep to steady myself.

"You can feel me up later doll, but can you explain what the hell you are doing in my room?" He taunted.

I realized that his colder hand was on the small of my back and I leaned back into grasp as I sneered "I could say the same for you..." I noticed the outline of dog tags imprinted underneath his shirt, glancing back up into his eyes with a wink, "Sarge".

He let go, allowing me the chance to step back and start searching for my knife. I could feel his eyes on me, questions waiting to be asked.

"You are Seragnet Barnes, correct?" I mused, grabbing my weapon from the corner and twirling it in my hand before replacing it in its holster. The corner of his mouth twitched into a smile at my maneuver, but quickly looked down and cleared his throat before replying.

"Yes ma'am. And I apologize for not knowing your name, as well as for throwing you," he grunted. It was suddenly a very formal manner in which he spoke. My eyebrow quirked up, as I spun on my heels and made my way into the kitchen, hearing heavy footsteps follow in time.

"Y/N".

"And what are you doing in my room, Y/N?" he said inquisitively. I was now the freezer for an ice pack, finding a floppy blue one in the back.

"I guess, I'm your roommate," I shrugged, putting the ice pack to the back of my head as I moved towards the bathroom.

"Wait, Sam told me I was meeting someone named "Y/L/N", they were gonna stay here for a bit," he retorted, once again following behind.

"That is my last name Blue Eyes. Need an ID or something?" I called over my shoulder, turning the corner to enter the bathroom, reaching towards the medicine cabinet.

"That still doesn't explain why you were on my bed," he scoffed, leaning against the door frame as I scavenged through the drawers.

"I didn't think anyone was living here. I was told I'd have a roommate, but I didn't think anyone had moved in yet. You have, like, no shit here. It looks like a hotel room," I critique, standing up with a shake of the bottle in my hand.

"I'm using your Ibuprofen" I say with mock respect. I move past him as I saunter back towards the kitchen. He can't help but laugh at this bizarre encounter and that I am truly not making this easy for him.

"You have a lot of sass for someone who just had their ass beat," he jeers, leaning forward on the counter between us.

All I could do was smile and shake my head, throwing the pills into my mouth and taking a swig of water.

"So, Y/L/N, why do you figure we Sam is rooming us together?"

"Love match?" I joke, placing the now empty cup in the sink and walking over to his side, leaning my back against the countertop.

He snorts, amused by my sarcasm once more. "Maybe, but I have a feeling it goes deeper," he says, turning to rest his side on the counter as he looks me over, clearly searching for something.

"You aren't gonna find any metal attached to me, Barnes," I report, turning to brace myself against the counter. "They messed me up in here." I gesture to forehead, softly tapping to get my point across.

His face falls as he realizes what I mean.

"HYDRA..." was all he could make out.

"They weren't just trying to make soldiers. They were trying to make spies. Hyper intelligent ones that can be manipulated without the risk of losing control or access, like a computer could. I am their failed experiment," I say softly. I chuck the ice pack into the sink, and make my way over to the window, rubbing at the back of my head.

"You have super soldier serum. I have an acute memory and the ability to calculate probable outcomes and human error. I remember..." I turn back to look him in the eye, "everything".

His mouth slightly gapes as he looks me over. "I was a lethal weapon when placed in sensitive situations. If I knew the possible endings of different scenarios, I could pick which one could happen."

He steps towards me, as if he was considering whether to comfort me. Before he could though, I straightened up and tried to scurry past him.

"I am so sorry for invading your space, I'll take my stuff out of your room. I can stay on the couch until-" The Winter Soldier cut me off, grabbing my arm before I could make it into the room.

"No, take the bed, please," he began. "I don't sleep in it anyways. Too comfy."

My eyes go from the grip on my arm up to his eyes, staring down at me, but with concern. I softened my face, providing a half smile as I nodded my head.

"Okay, Sarge. Let's eat though- I'm starving. You order the pizza while I take a shower. Then we can talk."

He let me go, looking down into my eyes, "I think I know your favorite kind."

I raised a brow at this bet, curious to see if he was right. "Alright...we will see..."

I turned and made my way towards the bathroom, looking back to see him still watching.

---

Shit, I don't have my clothes.

I was dripping from the shower still and my hair was very haphazardly put in a bun to keep the water from dripping. I quietly opened the door and peeked my head out, searching for my new roommate. When I had determined the coast was clear, I scurried into the room, shutting the door behind me quietly. When I turned around, I shrieked to see James exiting my closet, a few shirts in hand.

"What the fuck Barnes!!" I choke, desperately clutching my towel, as I had almost lost my grip. He dropped the shirts to the ground, slapping his hand over his eyes in case I did lose my covering.

"Damn, Y/L/N, let me buy you dinner first!" He laughs, trying to make his way to the door.

"Oh you are SO paying for the pizza now Barnes," I fume, adjusting my towel and making my way to the other side of the bed where my bag was.

"So you're saying I can look?"

"You just scared me, I'm decent you prick". I kneeled down beside the bed, opening my bag to see that all of my clothes were missing.

"Are you. fucking. SHITTING ME?" I curse, banging my already sore head onto the side of the bed.

"What did I do this time," the soldier groans.

"No, it's not you, it's just that...well shit. My clothes are missing."

"Oh yeah. I threw them in the wash for you. You weren't carrying a lot, and it's a force of habit from the old days, I thought they would be done by now but-"

"Sergeant?" I interrupt, seething with rage and a tinge of embarrassment.

"Y/L/N?"

"I don't have any clothes," I hiss.

"oh." he says shortly. I press my face into the bed, trying not to scream bloody murder. Suddenly, I feel two soft things land on me, causing me to turn my face to the side.

"Sweats and a shirt. Don't do anything weird," he quipped, leaving me in the room alone.

I look down at the black sweats and navy blue shirt. It was soft, and smelled of fabric softener and pine. I looked up at the empty hallway as I heard the front door open and shut behind him as he went to get the pizza.

I slipped on the clothes and looked myself over in the mirror. I decided to let my hair down to air dry, and the rest of me looked swallowed in his clothes. His sweats were pulled tightly around my hips, exposing my stomach when I stood. The shirt would probably be form fitting on him, but it just barely gave me a shape, though my chest clung to the fabric. I didn't know what this meant, but whatever it was felt nice.

---

"I got the pizza, and Sam already confirmed I was right about it being your favorite so..." James trailed off as he saw me standing in the kitchen, leaning over a brochure of sorts. I looked up to see him holding pizza in one hand and soda in the other as his eyes widened at my get up.

"No snappy remark, blue eyes? Wow, they just keep getting wide-" he cut me off by throwing the box down in front of me.

"Movie?" he muttered, quickly making his way past towards the living room.

"uh...okay. Can we watch 'Casablanca'?"

He turned around, looking at me with confusion.

"You know that movie? That was made almost 80 years ago."

"I'm a sucker for the classics, James," I say, grabbing the pizza and soda of the counter and bringing it to the coffee table.

"Bucky, please. We're gonna be living together and already saw you half-naked," he chides, sitting down on the couch and flipping it on with the remote.

"Okay, Bucky, do you remember the plot?" I probe, sitting myself next to him as I placed two glasses in front of us. I pulled my legs up to cross and adjusted the waist of my pants to sit above my stomach more comfortably. He was leaning back into the sofa, as I was turned to face him, waiting patiently for a response.

"I mean, I remember looking back on it and how terribly it depicted the war. It was not easy to find love abroad," he stated, reaching to grab a slice of pizza.

"Were you looking for love?"

"I was looking for fun. I was pretty sure I was gonna die, or at least not make it back. I was kind of right," he finished, biting into the slice.

"Yeah, not a lot of love in present day HYDRA safe-houses either. Not that I had time for it between missions, I say, leaning over to pour the drinks.

"Well what were you before...them?"

"A history student, if you can believe it. Wanted to study abroad and learn about wars, apply it to algorithms to prevent them. Seems like the common denominator was always men," I reply with a wink.

"I can't say you are wrong. But I am impressed. And now..."

"Now, I'm protected by the Avengers, er- what's left of them, and am able to use my skills for good. All of that history knowledge, everything I have ever learned and forgotten about, I can remember it all". I looked him up and down. "I didn't recognize you without the long hair and this stubble thing kinda threw me off, it's not the same as the pictures in the museum".

He adjusted his angle to better face me, curiosity etched across his features. "You really are something," he contended. The comment caused me to pull back, shocked by his honesty.

"I...uh..." I stammer, unsure of how to proceed.

"If you're going to say thank you, don't bother. It's just a fact," he noted, once more causing me to fall to silence.

He started looking up the movie, struggling with the technology of the remote.

As I studied him, the tension in his jaw, the stress he carries in his eyes, I realized I shared similar features.

"ты как я," I whisper under my breath, unsure if he even heard me.

You are like me.

I knew when he straightened up, and slowly looked in my direction.

"я знаю," he replied.

I know.

I reached my hand out to his arm, resting it on gently.

"What does this mean?" I asked softly.

"I'm not quite sure."

------

The next morning, I awoke to the smell of deep roast coffee.

Bucky and I had spent almost the entire night talking. We skimmed around the dark parts of our past, knowing that there would be time for that, but instead got to know the things that really shaped who we are today.

He really enjoyed his time in Wakanda. It was incredibly healing for him, and allowed him a chance to find piece, something we ex-soldiers and spies rarely could get. He told me about his life in the 40s, or what he could remember. A lot of his memories has been formed with the help of Steve, which I knew caused him pain. But he also found happiness in retelling those stories, knowing that someone else will see him as more than the Winter Soldier.

I shared my experience abroad. I had been all across the USA, in Canada, both Iceland and Greenland, Poland, France, Italy, Turkey, London, and of course Sokovia. It was were I had been taken during my travels. I had never told anyone about this before, but I had felt so comforted knowing that he had been through something so similar.

I don't know when, but at some point in the night, I had ended up falling asleep propped up on the couch. When I woke up in my bed the next morning, I realized it must have been him. I looked down to see I was still wearing his shirt, and smiled to myself. When I got up, I found his sweats on the floor, knowing I probably kicked them off when I got into bed. I stepped back into them, pulling them up around my legs and tying them once more on my hips. I looked in the mirror, my hair limp and flat from sleep. Checking my phone, I walked out, scratching my head and rubbing my face, yawning as the coffee smell grew stronger.

"доброе утро," he greets me, smirking at the confused face I made.

"No Russian. Too early. Try again later," I mumbled, jumping up to sit on the counter. He held up the sugar, shaking it in my face.

"Two to three teaspoons please," I groan, pushing the container out of my face.

"Someone likes it sweet," he laughs, dumping in my unhealthy request.

"And creamer, if you have some," I added, smiling as he turned towards the fridge.

"Did you know you speak Russian in your sleep?"

"I bet you do the same. All HYDRA escapees probably," I mutter, taking the mug from his hands.

"Well, you will have to let me know sometime," he chides, taking a sip of his own black coffee.

"Last night was...."

"Traumatizing?"

"Yeah, but maybe healing too?"

"Good," he exclaims, walking over to the couch. He sits down, swiping his phone off the charger next to him.

"Before you have to go, do you want some breakfast?" I offer, scanning his response to my inquiry.

"Is that your power thing? You knew they would ask me to work today?" He questions, looking down at the phone and then back at me.

"It's a skill, not a power. I'm not a superhero," I laugh, getting out the contents for a breakfast sandwich.

"Yes, I would like one. But you already knew that didn't you?"

"No skills required. Tony texted me this morning too. We are training together."

He smiled. He almost looked excited.

"I'm gonna beat your ass again Y/L/N".

"You wish".

-----------------------------------------------------

Every day, we played out the same routine.

I would wake up to the smell of freshly brewed coffee. I'd come out, thank him and proceed to make us breakfast. We would then go to combat training for a few hours. When he wasn't helping me, he was working on his own workout routine; often, he would put aside time to just focus on improving my knife skills. He would always joked that I showed promise after out first encounter, and then would promptly beat my ass in a knife fight.

After training, it would be time to meet Sam for lunch, chat about our personal lives (which were rarely separated from our work), as well as current issues in the Avengers, and the world.

Bucky always stayed close by when we were out and about, glancing over to make sure I was okay. I would signal back that it was okay, smiling as a way of thanks when I noticed him checking. The only time we went our separate ways for our "rehab plans" we called jokingly. He would go see his therapist while I went and saw mine. Then, he would meet Sam for a bit by himself, while I went back to our place and did paperwork. When he came home, we would decide on dinner and a movie, but would probably stay up the whole night talking and leaving the movie with at least 20 minutes to go (on a good night).

One night, after I had "magically" ended up in bed, I woke up to Bucky shaking me, yelling my name.

"Y/N! Y/N, it's me, it's Bucky! Come on Y/N, wake up!"

I was drenched in sweat and my voice felt coarse and raw. My heart was beating at an impossible rate, as I shot up to hold on to him.

"Y/N, it's okay, you're okay," he said, trying to calm me down as he pushed my wet hair off of my face. I was gripping his arms, trying my best to ground myself. My eyes were bloodshot and wet, as tears and sweat mixed down my face. His blue eyes were frantically searching me, making sure that I was okay.

"It was them Bucky, they were here, they were gonna hurt you, I couldn't move, they said the, they said the words Bucky, jesus I was gonna lose you Buck, I couldn't, I can't..." I trailed off, starting to hyperventilate as I buried my face in his chest, allowing him to pull me closer.

He held me against him, shushing me as he ran his hand through the back of my hair. His chin rested atop my head as I regained control of my breathing. As my heart rate lowered and the sound of blood rushing through my ears subsided, I heard him say softly:

"I could never leave you Y/N, I can't...you mean to much to me..."

I didn't know if he realized I heard him, but it made me relax into him a little more. We didn't move for I don't know how long, just holding each other, breathing in sync. I could feel myself start to get sleepy, and began to slump more and more into him. He could feel the wait of me on his chest, and softly laid me back into the bed. When I was settled in, he started to scoot backwards towards the edge of the bed, before I grabbed his arm.

"Stay. Please. Stay," I barely whispered.

He looked down at me, tucked under the covers in an oversized t-shirt with my hair a crazy mess around my face. My eyes were glassy and red from crying, but my grip on his arm was sure.

"Please Buck."

I pulled back the covers next to me, signaling the invitation that I meant it.

He was only in a T-Shirt and boxers in himself, but nevertheless, he climbed in anyways. As he slid down, I pulled myself into him, hugging his torso as the scent of his fabric softener filled my nose.

He wrapped his arm under my head and around me, the other to my back, sheltering me from my nightmares as I drifted back to sleep. When I woke up, my head was resting on top of his chest, his hand still in my hair. I could count his steady heartbeats over time, our breathing once more in time together. I glanced up to see his stubbly face, in a serene sleep. I had heard him up late at night, wandering in the living room. I am sure he had nightmares like me, but I was the unlucky one to have the first terror while we were roommates.

I couldn't help but realize that he put a shirt on.

He never wore a shirt to sleep.

I knew this because I had woken up a time or two to go to the bathroom, and he would be there, on the floor, practically shining as the moonlight radiated off of his skin. It was almost impressive.

So he put a shirt on when he came in to help me last night. I guess it is respectful of him. I mean, everything about last night, or at least what I could remember, made me feel safer than I had in a very long time. Bucky always made me feel safe, but now, lying on his chest, it was deeper than two former soldiers-it was intimate.

I couldn't stop myself, I inched slightly up, lifting my head to his face, practically nose to nose. I could feel him exhale as the air left his nose and tickled my face. I leaned down, just off to the right side of his mouth and softly kissed him. I couldn't kiss him on the lips, but I needed to put it out there, even if he was asleep. I laid back down next to him, facing the ceiling as I felt him softly stir next to me. I tried to discreetly roll away, my body turned away from him, screwing my eyes closed.

I could feel the bed shift underneath me as he awoke. I could feel him leaning over me, checking to see that I was "asleep". Then, I felt his lips on my forehead, pressing a gentle kiss to my temple.

"You can't get away with it that easily Y/N"

My eyes slowly opened, as if afraid I would see it was all a dream, and he wouldn't be there. Instead, he was looking down at me, his head cocked to the side with a crooked smile dancing on his lips. Concern was etched on my brow, though my mouth betrayed me in a half smile as I stared back at the blue eyed soldier.

"I uh-I didn't, uh, mean to wake you Bucky, I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me," I stuttered out, worried that I might have made him feel pressured to return the favor.

I was surprised when his arm reached for my waist, pulling me from my side to my back as he rested his hands on either side of me. Trapped underneath him, my train of thought was so far off the rails, my ability to even speak was completely hijacked.

"Y/N, you have no idea how long I had been waiting for you to do something like that," he confessed. I quivered underneath him, my only response to his words. He was now hovering above my torso, propped up on his forearms as he continued to ramble.

"I never wanted to pressure or impose anything against you. I thought that you felt it too, and I wanted to be a gentleman, but with last night and you wanting me to stay, and now this morning..., I just wanted to make sure that I am reading the signals right an-"

He was cut off by my hand on the back of his neck, pulling him up to my face where our noses connected once more. His eyes were piercing, searching mine frantically before I closed them and pulled him down. Our lips attached to one another, fitting together softly, one on top of the other. His arm slid underneath my back and pressed me into him as my arm wrapped around his neck, my other hand holding his face. I could feel the metal against my waist, but it was warmer than usual, probably due to being under the covers all night. After years of torture and pain for the both of us, this kiss made terrors of that night worth it. It brought him and I together.

As we pulled away, our lips still stuck to the others until there was enough distance to truly focus our eyesight on the other. Pupils dilated, chests rising and falling against each other, our status shifted from roommates to something more in seconds. Maybe we were always something more and we hadn't realized it until now. But none of the what ifs mattered now. Now, there was a certainty that Bucky and I had a future together.

-------

A/N: This made me cry. A lot. The angst, the coping skills, the little sparks of chemistry. I just love writing about this man. He is everything a girl could ask for. I will start writing a part two tomorrow and I can promise you, it is about to be a lot cuter, a lot smuttier, and a lot more BUCKKKYYYY.

Taglist: @n3ssm0nique @arctic-duchess @bluemoon-icecream

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky imagine #bucky fluff #bucky flirting #bucky x y/n #bucky angst #mcu #marvel #winter solider x y/n #winter soldier x reader #sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #bucky barnes series

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livexdolan · 4 years ago

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The Cage - Part One

A/n: so hi! This is a UFC based fic about Grayson Dolan. This is an AU with an OC. There is no face claim as of now but they might change idk. I’m not going to ramble lol I’m just very very nervous. Anywho please enjoy and let me know what you think! There will be many parts to this series by the way lol so this part is kind of slow but just wait aha

Word Count: 5924

Warnings: fluff, mentions of death, explicit language, and triggering topics (maybe?) mentioned

“I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to be famous- never telling anyone but I’ve always wanted to know- wanted to get in the head of someone famous and see what they go through- but I could’ve never guessed this was how I was going to find out.

It all started when I was 22, fresh out of college, with a crappy assistant job at a publishing company in Los Angeles, California. Having been stuck at this job for almost three years and never even having my articles read, I was starting to lose hope that I would never be more than an assistant. Until one day…”

“Lily! Get in here! And bring me a coffee!” I scurry to Mr. Lane’s office, clutching the coffee I had just gone and grabbed for him, stopping by my desk to grab my notebook and pen.

I opened his glass door and put his coffee down on his desk, pushing up my glasses as I opened my notebook and clicked my pen, looking up at him expectantly, waiting for him to say what he needed me to do. He looks at me, his eyes bright at first but quickly losing their color and he sighs as though he’s already exasperated, “What is this?” He holds up a copy of a story I had put on his desk.

Oh jeez, another rejection. I push my glasses up again and start to stutter out an explanation in a quiet voice, “Well, I-I heard you talking to some of the reporters about need-needing a new story for next week's issue and well, I-I already had an idea so I thought I’d-” He cuts me off with a quick raise of his hand and a stoic look on his face, giving nothing away.

“Look,” he sighs and rubs his face with both hands before continuing, “It’s not a bad story, but it’s a half-baked idea. That’s your problem. That’s why you haven’t gotten a byline yet- you can never deliver a full idea- let alone a full article, do you understand?”

I look down, refusing to let him see my cheeks burn red and my eyes water. This is what he says every time I give him an idea. “Do you want to be a journalist?” He questions.

I make eye contact with him quickly lifting my head and squaring my shoulders to try and seem more confident, “More than anything, sir.”

“Well then, I have a proposition for you.” He gets up from his chair, his tall, lean body going to perch on the corner of his desk as he looks up at me his blue eyes sparkling with a mischievous glint, “I’ll give you a lead, and if you can follow through and get me a full 12000-word article by Monday, you can keep your job and I might throw you a lead here and there. But if you fail to deliver…” He pauses momentarily, thinking over his next words carefully, “you lose your job.”

I gasp and try to reason with myself for a second, making a mental pro-con list before replying quietly, “What’s the article on?”

He shakes his head and smirks lightly, filling my stomach with more unease, “No, you have to agree to the proposition. Then, I will tell you the story.”

Can I do this? Can I risk everything? I mean, that’s what my life’s been so far, a lot of risks and sacrifices. But is this a sacrifice I’m willing to make?

What would mom do? I sigh, “O-ok. Okay, I accept. Now, what’s the story?”

He claps his hands together excitedly and looks up at me with a boyish grin, he moves swiftly behind his desk and grabs an envelope, handing it to my shaky hands, “Grayson Dolan, he fights tonight here at the arena, go with a press pass, get an interview with him and ask him a couple of questions. Oh, and make sure we get a quote.”

I stare at him open-mouthed, frozen to my spot, “What? The Grayson Dolan?! You and I are both very aware that he refuses to do interviews. This isn’t even possible.” I say without trying to raise my voice too much.

Jace just leans back in his desk chair, lacing his fingers together and putting them behind his head, “Not my problem- it’s yours now. If I don’t have that story in my hand Monday morning, just pack your things up and leave, got it?” He smirks up at me.

I just silently walk out of his office and back to my desk, sitting down and putting my head against the cool wood surface. I don’t know if I want to cry or punch myself in the face.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“And then he told me that if I accept- but fail to give him a story- I lose my job!”

“Wow! I never liked that guy, you know. He gives off such- such a douchebag vibe.”

I can’t help but chuckle at my dad’s voice dropping a little, he hasn’t been big on cursing since mom passed. At first, it was weird because both my parents cussed when I was growing up. But after mom passed, dad decided that, ‘there’s enough hate in the world’ and that he’s not going to add to it with foul language.’

“I know Dad, but what am I supposed to do?”

“Don’t accept it! You should never risk your whole career on whether or not some guy is feeling up to an interview!”

“Ok, one-” I start, “it is not just some guy! This is Grayson Dolan! And two,” I lower my voice and chew my lip, a bad habit I picked up in middle school, “I already agreed.”

“Of course you did!” he sounds exasperated and I pull my phone away from my ear a little out of reflex, “You are just like your mother, you know that?” he sighs and the line goes quiet.

“Daddy?” I whisper into the phone. He stays silent. It’s my turn to sigh and fall back onto my couch. I mutter into the phone, “He wouldn’t tell me the story until I accepted. I have to go get ready, I’ll talk to you after the match. I’ll be sitting ringside so look for me, ok?”

“Ok, I will. I’m still not happy about this.”

“I know Dad, you’re not happy with two-thirds of the things I do.”

That gets a reluctant chuckle out of him, “I guess you’re right. Good luck, by the way. If anyone can get an interview out of Dolan- it’d be you. And if you can’t, your childhood bedroom would love to have you back.”

“Ha-ha. Thanks. I love you.”

“Love you too baby, I’ll see you soon?”

“Dad,” my stomach drops at his hopeful voice and I can’t bring myself to tell him the truth, “Maybe, bye.”

I hang up the phone before he can say anything and I sink into the couch.

I wake with a start, my neck sore from the back of the couch. Oh no. I grab my phone in a haste, I turn it on and my whole body sags in relief when the time shows up; 6:45.

I have about an hour and a half to get ready, that’s enough time!

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Wrong. Very wrong. I feel a wave of heat wash over me, igniting my anxiety as I look at the time on my phone; 7:45.

I quickly put on my normal, light makeup consisting of moisturizer, skin tint, blush on my cheeks and nose, giving me an almost sunburnt look. I shape my eyebrows a little, fix my glasses, and put on my chapstick. I quickly brush out my short, wavy hair and clip back the front parts. I shake my head slightly to get my bangs in place and do one last check in the mirror before heading to my closet.

Too pink. Too casual. Too tight. Too- ugh where did I even get that from? I start moving the hangers faster, getting frustrated with my lack of options. I move past a pastel purple dress- wait. I go back to the dress and grab it off the rod, holding it up in the light.

When did I buy this? My eyebrows furrow as I look at the beautiful and delicate dress that I must’ve forgotten about. I pull it off the hanger and slowly put it on, saying a silent prayer that it fits.

I smooth the soft material out and look in the mirror. I’m pleasantly surprised by how the dress fits. It’s silk with spaghetti straps and is a lilac color with little flowers all over it.

I don’t have time to overthink my outfit now. I throw on my roommate’s white Timberlands, grab my black purse, making sure my ID, wallet, and phone are all tucked safely inside. I grab my press pass and put the lanyard around my head carefully.

Taking a deep breath, I walk out to the living room where my roommate is sitting waiting for me to come out.

I clear my throat and try not to look too awkward. Ryan looks up from her MacBook and gasps, tossing her laptop onto the couch next to her, she moves over to me, her long legs gracefully walking around the coffee table.

She investigates every part of my outfit, making me feel small and self-conscious. Before I can stop myself, I start rambling in a quiet tone, “Is-is this too much? Do you th-think it looks okay?”

She grasps my shoulders and a wide smile makes its way onto her face, “Of course, you look amazing!” I smile at her and she winks at me, “When that pretentious ass sees you- he might want to do more than just let you interview him.”

I snort and roll my eyes and she laughs, “Yeah right,” I mumble.

She walks over to our coat rack and pulls off a small black cardigan, “Here, I know it gets cold in there,” I smile gratefully and take it from her, folding it over the crook of my arm and taking a deep breath.

I start to walk towards the door and she calls my name, I look back at her as I open the door, “You look hot Lil- knock ‘em dead,” I smile at her and nod, walking out before I get sappy.

I pull into the busy parking lot of the arena and gulp down my bubbling anxiety. I find a parking spot, towards the back of the lot seeing as I don’t get bothered by having to walk a little. I go up to the line, seeing a sign that says, ‘PRESS ENTRANCE HERE’ I smile at the worker looking at me and pointing to the Press sign and then at my pass hanging around my neck, he nods.

I go towards the other entrance and show a different security guard my pass and he opens a door for me, I smile up at him, “Thank you-” I glance at the small name tag, “Don.” He blushes slightly and coughs.

I blush too and walk through the door quickly. I realize that I’m ‘backstage’ and can hear the fans cheering for one of the main card fights happening. I check my small watch and see that it’s going to be another hour or so before Grayson Dolan fights.

I take another deep breath and start walking forward, trying not to look like a lost puppy and failing when a man wearing a UFC crew shirt comes over to me with furrowed brows, “Who’re you looking for?”

I look at him, his deep voice vibrating against the walls, “Grayson Dolan,” I answer back.

He gives me a once-over and I try not to make a face when he meets my eyes and smirks, “Oh, he’ll like you.” I furrow my brows but decide not to question it as he points down a long hallway, “Four doors down, take a right, then the last door on the left is him- the one that’ll say, Grayson Dolan.” I thanked him even though he was a bit rude, and made my way down.

Once I turn down the hallway I see someone sitting outside one of the rooms on a single chair. I make my way closer and my heart drops into my stomach when I see it’s a girl sitting outside Grayson Dolan’s room, “Hello? Are-Are you okay?”

The girl looks up at me from her phone and gives me a once-over, except it’s different from the way the worker did- she looks annoyed with me. She stands up, her high heels making her about an inch or two taller than me, “Who are you?” She asks, crossing her arms over her chest, pushing her cleavage up.

I cough to clear my throat a little, taken back by her abrasive tone, “I’m a reporter- Are you okay?”

“I’m perfectly fine, and if you’re here for Grayson Dolan- he won’t talk to you.”

“I- I’m sorry, why do you say that?” The woman steps closer to me and I try not to gag at the smell of her cheap, overused perfume. I step back from her and she straightens up slightly, glowering at me.

“Just run along, maybe you’ll understand when you’re grown,” She says, looking back at her phone, when she glances up and sees I’m not leaving she rolls her eyes, “Grayson Dolan doesn’t talk to reporters. I wouldn’t be surprised if you weren’t actually a reporter anyway, you’re probably just here to fuck him, huh? Get in line,” She laughs.

My whole body feels like it’s on fire. I don’t understand why she’s being so rude and malicious towards me but I have to get this interview. I can’t let people like her bring me down anymore. When she gives me a fake smile and sits back down, I decide to be the bigger person. Not snapping back at her and ignoring her. Because she doesn’t know me and she doesn’t know what I’ve been through.

The door opens before I can say anything anyways and we both look over, startled. A man looks over at us, then turn and glances back inside the room before he nods, looking at me, and asking what my name is, “Lily Taylor, here with Ace Publis-” I try to tell him but he cuts me off opening the door wider and my eyes widen as he tells me to come in. I try to keep from laughing when the girl asks if she can come in but he just shakes his head at her, I turn around quickly before he shuts the door, “If I were you- I wouldn’t lie to others and say you’re around his age, it’s very obvious that you’re old enough to be his mom,” And the door shuts on her shocked face.

I realize my heart is pounding in my ears and that is probably the meanest thing I’ve ever done, “I should probably apologize,” I whisper to myself and jump slightly when I hear a deep chuckle.

“What can I help you with, Ms. Taylor?” My shoulders tense at the familiar voice and I turn around slowly, facing a couch with a very amused Grayson Dolan sitting on it.

“I- I’m so sorry for being so rude to her. I didn’t mean to be.”

“Why do you think I’d care about her? She’s been sitting out there for two hours,” He laughs and I think he caught the raise of my eyebrow but ignores it, “I asked you once, Ms. Taylor, I don’t like repeating myself.” He reminds me of his question.

I square my shoulders, “I’m here with Ace Publishing & Co., I would love if you could answer some questions for me,” I smile at him, trying to come off as friendly.

His amused expression drops and he scoffs, “You’re one of them? God- here I was hoping you were a die-hard fan. Was going to make you feel very special,” He smirks at me and I scrunch my nose out of habit at his gross words. I quickly stop, realizing I need this, “Frank- show Ms. Taylor out please,” He sighs, and my eyes widen and I stick my hands out and Frank stops moving for a second.

“Wait! Wait! Please I-” Frank huffs at my refusal to move and grabs my arm as I move closer to Grayson, “Please. I wouldn’t be this adamant if I didn’t need this. Please. My career is counting on this moment. Please, I will get down on my knees and beg if I have to, please,” I put my hands in a pleading gesture, hoping he’d take pity.

He holds his hand up to Frank and he lets go of my arm, I sigh and straighten up a little, hoping to gain back some of the dignity I seemed to have lost, “What do you mean?” He cocks his head to the side curiously and I blush, glancing at the ground.

“My boss he uh- he told me that if I don’t get at least a quote from you I can kiss my job goodbye and well, it’s not the best job but I’ve worked my ass off to get where I’m at and he’s being unfair and I understand that this isn’t your problem and I understand why you don’t like to talk to interviewers-”

He cuts me off, “You know why I don’t talk to interviewers?” I look up at him and nod meekly, “Why? Explain it to me,” he crosses his arms and I think he might be upset with me.

I look back down at the ground and take a breath, glancing back up at him through my lashes, “You don’t do interviews because doing an interview is personal and revealing. You’re scar- scared to let the world see who the Grayson Dolan is because you don’t think they’ll like you as much.”

He cocks his eyebrow and uncrosses his arm, sighing, looking away from me to the wall, his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek as he contemplates for a minute, “You got like 20 minutes to ask me whatever you want, and no stupid questions that all the interviewers ask, okay?” I nod and move to sit in the chair next to the couch.

“Do you mind if I record this? I’d like to keep this paper-free, meaning I don’t have a notebook out and try to write everything down. We’re just going to have a conversation and let it flow. I can stop recording at any time if you say something you’d like erased. I’m not here to expose you, just here to get to know you. As a person. Not as a fighter. I’m not going to ask you anything about how being a fighter’s been or what your inspiration is. I’m going to ask you about you. As a whole. Because the UFC is not your personality,” I explain to him, pulling my phone out and pulling up my voice memos app and looking back up to him, waiting for an answer.

He stares at me until finally, I say his name quietly, hoping he’s okay, he blinks and flushes, shifting, “Sorry, y-yeah, that’s okay. I just- I didn’t expect you to be like- acting like a human.”

I laugh and start recording, “Maybe that means I’m a bad journalist? I don’t know- I feel like it’s easier to connect and get the questions in without papers and cameras and all that other stuff.”

(this part is going to be a dialogue as though we are just listening to the recording)

“That makes sense, and no I can tell you’re going to be great, you treat me like I’m just- a guy, which doesn’t happen often.”

“I bet, you don’t deserve that though. Okay, I’m going to start us off with some icebreakers- so tell me what your childhood dream job was, your favorite ice cream flavor, and 3 things you do on the weekends.”

“Oh, jeez, what is this- first day of 6th grade? Fine- Uh, I always wanted to be a pro wrestler, that was my dream job as a kid. My favorite- vegan- ice cream flavor is probably mint chocolate chip. And, uhm, three things I do on the weekends...okay okay I got it; eat, sleep, workout. Now you.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you, Miss Reporter. If you want this to flow you gotta participate as well.”

“Okay, fine. Uh- as a kid I always wanted to be a veterinarian, and then when I was like 10 I realized I wanted to be a writer. My favorite ice cream flavor is probably mint chocolate chip as well. And on the weekends...I’d probably say; read, watch fights with my dad, and drink tea with my best friend at a cafe.”

“Every single weekend?”

“Yeah, my dad lives on the other side of the country so we do a FaceTime call and watch UFC together. My roommate has a job that takes up a lot of her time during the week so we go to this small cafe by our house every weekend.”

“Wow.”

(this is where the rest of the interview would be but, for later in the timeline, we aren’t going to cover every question she asks him :))

“Okay, now tell me about your family. Where you grew up, were your parents married, did you have a dog, and how do you think this all helped make you the man you are today?”

“I grew up in New Jersey; my dad left when I was 10. I’m allergic to dogs and cats, so I have a parrot named Gizmo. My mom never remarried and my sister lives with her. My brother and I moved to LA when we were 18, with no money, no job, just hope. We went to a gym and asked them if they’d train us. The next thing I knew, my brother was getting a job working at the gym and becoming one of my trainers. I learned how to fight and used my wrestling experience and worked my way into the UFC.”

“You didn’t answer my last question.”

“Yes, I did.”

“No, you told me how you got started in the UFC. I don’t want to know about that- everyone knows that story already. I want to know how you think the things you went through as a child have shaped you as a person.”

“I- I guess- I don’t know, to be honest. I don’t think much of who I’ve become so that question is hard to answer.”

“Why do you say that? You are one of the most accomplished men in America.”

“To others, but this- I wasn’t supposed to be a fighter. Everyone sees me as accomplished but I just feel like this was an accident. There was no great event in my life that caused me to become an MMA fighter- it just happened.”

“You don’t believe in fate, Mr. Dolan?”

“No, I don’t. Do you, Ms. Taylor?”

“Yes, I believe that we all have a path we are meant to follow and that everything happens for a reason.”

“Why?”

“Because- I don’t know- it’s nicer than the alternative to me, I guess. I don’t want to live in a world where nothing has a reason behind it. We’ll move on to the next question. You don’t disclose personal information; relationships, family, children, etcetera.”

“Where are you going with this?”

“Why is that? Are you afraid?”

“Afraid? Of what?”

“The same reason I said earlier as to why you don’t like interviews; you are scared people will see the real Grayson Dolan and not like you as much or think you’re different.”

“Are you like- a profiler or something? Why do you think that?”

“I’m not a profiler- I’m a journalist. It’s my job to look for clues, pick up on the small things about someone no one else would notice.”

“Ok, I’ll accept that. Is it my turn to ask you questions?”

“No that’s not how this works.”

“You said you wanted this to be like a normal conversation, did you not?”

“Yes, I did say that, but-”

“Okay, well, I don’t know about you but normally when I’m getting to know someone- I get to ask questions just like they do.”

“Fine. What do you want to know?”

“I want to know...if you’ll go out with me?”

“What? Like on a- like on a date?”

“Yes, a date, Ms. Taylor.”

“Uh- I don’t know, maybe, I-”

“30 minutes to the fight, Dolan! Gotta get you warmed-up!”

(the story is back to normal now)

“So?” He questions as he stands up and I try to gather all my stuff. Trying to push down the butterflies while I stop the recording. I just continue to get more flustered, especially when he puts his hand out for me and I shyly take it, he pulls me to my feet and I stare at him through my lashes.

“I- sure. On one condition,” I smile slyly up at him and he raises an eyebrow at me, I ignore the unfamiliar feeling between my thighs at the look on his face and continue quickly, “You have to win this fight. I’ll be in the front row watching. If you win- I’ll go out with you.”

He smiles and then chuckles, “I thought you were going to make it hard? I could win this fight in my sleep baby, I’ll let you know the time after the fight, just stick around, yeah?”

I snort and roll my eyes, ignoring the pull on my heart when he calls me baby, “I’ll be there,” He smiles at me again and I jump a little in surprise when I feel his warm, large hand on the small of my back, he opens the door for me and leads me into the hallway.

I try not to laugh at the face of the Instagram model when she sees Grayson’s hand on me, “I’ll be looking for you in the front row, just so you know.” He teases.

I smile at him and kiss him on the cheek, “I’ll be the one cheering the loudest. Knock Em dead!” I walk away quickly and glance back seeing him standing there, his right hand gently going up to touch the spot I kissed and we both blush. My heart drops into my stomach when he looks over and sees the model. I have to turn the corner and get to my seat so I don’t see how he reacted. He wouldn’t sleep with her right after asking me out, would he? My subconscious snaps back; you barely know the man! Maybe he does this all the time! I push her down and ignore the bad feeling in my gut.

As I sit down in my seat, everything that just happened hits me and I slouch into my seat, what. the. fuck. I’m going on a date with Grayson Dolan! I got an interview with Grayson Dolan! I kissed Grayson Dolan on the cheek! I bite back a smile and take out my phone, taking a video showing me smiling at the camera, then flipping the camera around and showing off how close I am to the octagon. I sent it to my dad quickly.

He responds almost immediately.

*From Daddy: Wow!! So cool! Have tons of fun! Not too much though! Not ready to be a grandpa...yet ;)

I snort and roll my eyes, responding and then turning my phone off when the lights in the arena dim.

*To Daddy: Lmao, shut up. I’ll try to have fun though! The main card is starting! I’ll talk to you later, love you <3

After I watch a few of the fights before Graysons’, I take some pictures and jot down some information about the fights and who won, knowing it’ll add more substance to my piece.

I watch as the whole arena transforms and the whole place is bursting with barely-contained energy and the place goes dark. Suddenly, lights start beaming and music starts playing, I smile at the Kid Cudi (each fight he uses a different Cudi song) choice for tonight- Enter Galactic as it blasts through the speakers everyone goes wild, Grayson moving swiftly to the octagon with his head low and singing the song softly to himself. I can tell he’s not the same Grayson I was talking to, he has flipped the switch- as he told me he does- and is now The Grayson Dolan- UFC Fighter and Champion.

He takes his shirt off and I blush at his tan skin, the rippling muscles making my brain go straight in the gutter. The ‘doc’ pats him down and puts vaseline on his face. I try not to laugh at how weird he looks with his eyebrows slicked down.

He makes his way into the octagon and I see him scanning the front row when his eyes land on mine. I smile at him but he just gives me a curt nod in response before turning away. I’m taken aback by his attitude but I know he has to stay in his fighter mentality.

The other fighter, Dominick Reyes, comes in and he has a good amount of people cheer for him but the majority of the arena boos when he comes out. I know that having some of how this fight goes in my article will make it look better because it’s such a big deal, so I jot some notes down, some about Grayson and some about Reyes.

I subconsciously chew on my nail, scolding myself when I realize what I’m doing. He’s going to win. I tell myself to calm down, I’ve never been to a fight before so the chaotic and anxiety-filled energy around me must be getting to my head.

The ref announces them both, and then they go to the middle, Grayson goes to touch Reyes’ fist, but Reyes pulls back and smirks at Grayson, “C’mon pretty boy,” he sings.

Grayson’s jaw clenches and he starts moving around the octagon, Reyes slowly falling into a pattern of chasing him around. Grayson continues to step to the right until suddenly, he moves to the left, and Reyes doesn’t see it. I watch in astonishment as he puts all of his power into the punch, hitting Reyes perfectly on the temple. Reyes drops to the ground and Grayson’s about to follow him to the mat but the ref stops him, officially calling the fight. Grayson looks over at me, my mouth hanging wide open and he smirks, winking at me.

That asshole just winked at me.

I stand up quickly, cheering loudly with everyone else and he shakes his head, turning back to his team as they run into the octagon to hug him. Once Grayson is done with everything and the crowd starts shuffling out, Grayson comes over to me, “D’you see that?” He smiles and I smile back.

“Yeah, yeah, I saw,” He chuckles and grabs my arm pulling me into him.

I gasp as I hit his hard, sweaty chest, “You’re sweaty,” I scrunch my nose up and try to pull away but he tightens his grip, staring down at me with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“You owe me a date,” He responds and I roll my eyes, ignoring the hammering of my heart at how close we are to each other.

“What time and where?” I say, acting bored.

He chuckles down at me, “I’ll pick you up at 5:30. This Saturday. Just bring your beautiful self and don’t worry about anything else.”

“What’s the dress code?” I raise my eyebrow and he shrugs.

“Whatever you want to wear, although I’ll tell you right now they might frown upon you wearing lingerie or something like that.”

I snort and as he moves away from me a little and we start walking behind his team I realize that I’m a lot colder than I realized, rubbing my arms subconsciously and realizing that I left my sweater in the car damn it.

Grayson notices me rubbing my arms and bumps my shoulder, “You cold?”

“A little. I have a sweater in the car, I’ll be fine.”

He frowns as he opens the door to his dressing(?) room, “I have a jacket you can wear.”

He goes over to a chair in the corner and grabs a big, soft black jacket with DOLAN on the back and the UFC and Reebok logo on the front. I shake my head, “No, r-really it’s- it’s okay,”

“Just take it, you can give it back later, s’not a big deal, I don’t need it. I’m way too hot right now.”

He hands it over to me and I look down at it in his hands and then glance back at him, crossing my arms. He rolls his eyes and comes over to me, putting it on my shoulders and looking down at me, “Just wear it. Please?” He whispers and I flush, seeing that if I moved too fast our lips would be touching.

I nod softly and he steps back. I take a deep breath and put my arms through the sleeves and the jacket immediately warms me. I relax into the warmth and pull it tighter around me and he smirks, “Like you in my clothes.”

I blush and look down, “I- I should be goi-going,” I point my thumb at the door and he bites back a smile.

“Yeah, I’ll see you Saturday then?”

I nod and stutter out a response as I walk back to the door, “Y-yep! 5:30! Wait- I didn’t give you my address o-or my phone num-Ow!” I yelp in surprise when the door handle digs into my lower back and he can’t hold back his laugh as he walks over to me, trapping me between him and the door.

I swallow at his large frame covering me up, his arms resting on each side of the wall by my head, I can see his large biceps and the veins running up his arms in my peripheral vision. He smirks and leans down, “Check your pocket,” he says softly and I look up at him with furrowed brows.

I slowly move my hands to the jacket pockets and after digging around a little I feel a small piece of paper in the right pocket. I pull it out and open it up. I glance up at him in surprise at the digits scribbled onto the paper.

“H-How did you- why-” He cuts me off by moving away from me, my body on fire from how close he had been to me.

I move off the door when he motions for me to move and he opens the door, “Ms. Taylor,” He says, trying to hide a smirk.

I scoff incredulously and walk past him, stopping outside the door in the cold hallway, I turn back to look at him before I walk away to go have a panic attack in my car, “Mr. Dolan.”

A/n: okayyy so I know it’s bad and I’ll be editing it soon but I’m posting this on an ipad lmfao so please cut me some slack.

Tag List:

@pineappledols @episkygrant @georgia302 @dolan-habits @leahs-existentialcrisis @persistence-ofmemories @bubsdolan @ohdolans @vinylhazza @vintagedolan @astrodolan @zeusgrayson @deeperdolan @blindedbythelightt @dolsobsessionz @evergreendolan @dicedols @plantbasedgray

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writinggarbage007 · 4 years ago

Text

The Captain’s Assistant

Chapter 12

Steve Rogers x dark! reader, Avengers x dark! Reader

Summary: After 3 years as Cap's assistant and being treated like nothing, you are captured by Hydra and everything changes.

Warnings: swearing, dark themes, abduction, torture, cannon level violence, theft, bank robbery, manipulating people,

Slight AU

Steve wakes slowly. The soft bed is warm as he reaches over to put his arm around you. When he's met with cool sheets he sits up, looking around.

His eyes fall on the note with his name scrawled across it. He hopes it says you went to get coffee or make breakfast.

His hopes are dashes by the words he reads. The ink slightly smudged as if you were crying. It makes his heart jolt in his chest. Why didn't you wake him?

He didn't know how to start searching for you. You could hide and be standing right in front of him.

It read:

Steve,

I'm so sorry for leaving. I was trying to think of a way to explain to you what is going on with me but I feel the darkness growing. I was laying here thinking I didn't want it to consume you too. I don't want to hurt you.

Love,

Y/N

Jumping from the bed he called out to Friday with no response. He had forgotten that Tony didn't monitor you. Grabbing his phone from his pants pocket he called Bucky.

"What?" Bucky answered, his voice rough with sleep.

"I need the team at the tower. As soon as possible. I'm going to wake Tony. Move your ass." Steve said and Bucky was heard grumbling to someone.

"I'll be back as soon as I can baby doll."he said to the girl in his bed. The fact that it had been the same one for almost 6 months was an accomplishment.

"I'm getting the team. What are we doing?" Bucky asks Steve as he pulls on pants, his phone tucked between his shoulder and head.

"I spent the night with Y/N. She's gone. I need her back Buck." Steve says, sounding devastated.

"I'm on my way to get the team. We'll be there in a couple of hours. Try to stay calm. Tony can track her phone." Bucky says as he puts on his shoes.

When Steve hangs up the phone he dresses and looks around your room. There were some clothes in the closet and some books and papers but your phone was gone. He leaves the room calling for Friday to wake Tony.

Walking by the kitchen his heart drops. Your phone is laying on the counter as if you left it as an afterthought. When he gets to the lab, Tony is already pulling up maps and looking for CCTV he can hijack.

"What did you do to our girl, Cap?" Tony asks typing away on his phone without looking up.

"My girl, Stark. She's my girl." Steve says with venom, handing Tony your note.

"I wondered why she was robbing banks,"Tony said with a smirk. The stunned look on Steve's face made him chuckle.

"What are you talking about?" Steve asked pacing around the room.

"Banks all over the city have been reporting money going missing. I thought it was strange so I correlated the data of when her pass was used to leave and enter the building, searched her room while she was out and voila. She was robbing banks. She's perfect for it really." Tony said with a hint of admiration.

Steve's mind was whirling. You had never done anything like this. What the hell was happening.

100 miles away:

You pulled over at a discount store and bought a burner phone. The car you were driving was surprisingly getting you further away than you thought it would. You had been heading south, so you continued on to the west. No patterns to where you turned or where you went.

You made sure to be seen on camera in Western Pennsylvania and pulled out of the parking lot to the west but when you got out of the town you turned south again to West Virginia.

Finding a pickup truck for sale in Wheeling, West Virginia you bought it with cash and ditched your car. You had "borrowed" an ID from a friend so you continued south with the truck in her name the next morning.

You made it to southwest Virginia within 5 days, careful to avoid being seen on cameras. You returned to the house Tony found you in when you had been taken by Hydra.

You had purchased it from the county tax office weeks after you were "rescued" using an account set up for a corporation that didn't exist. Set up by your invisible ass on a bank computer with phony tax numbers and addresses. Let's see Earth's mightiest heroes figure that out. You smiled to yourself. The "corporation" had hired a handyman to fix the place up and get it habitable for the CEO and his wife to use as a retreat.

They would be sending a caretaker to oversee the place. Aka:YOU.

It would make the perfect hideaway. It was also within 10 hours of about 15 cities. Can't rob banks close to home. Friday picked up on patterns like that. And a few days of travel can be good for you. Wouldn't want to get bored.

You check the surrounding area. The security needed to be upgraded but you've got time. The panic room had been built and the handyman sworn to secrecy. Not that you really needed it but ya never know.

You had sent an email to Fury telling him you were going away. Your father's rejection mixed with Natasha's suspicion had worn you down to the point you didn't want to be around the team. You promised to contact him in a few weeks. You could do that from anywhere.

The best part was it was sent from your phone. Tony and Steve would find it. You wondered how long it had taken Tony to figure out the banks. You guessed at least a month.

You knew how everyone would react to the news that you were gone again, and it was partially Natasha's fault.

Clint would remind her of her past

Tony would make a sarcastic comment about how she pushed you out and spend his days and nights in the lab searching for anything he could find.

Bucky would just sigh and go back to looking for you. Calling his girlfriend every few hours to update her even though she didn't know you.

Sam would be the one to point out the bank robbery was a way for you to get money to get away.

Wanda would be sympathetic to you. She knew what it was like to live under suspicion.

Natasha would be pissed that you had run off before she could find out what was going on. She would be defensive of her need to protect the team from you.

But Steve's reaction would be the best part.

His jaw would clench and he would start lecturing her pacing around, calling her Romanoff instead of Natasha or Nat. He would then give her the silent treatment or clipped one word answers to anything she addressed to him.

As you settled into your newly furnished house you laughed out loud. You may not cause another Civil War, but you were damn sure going to give them something to think about. Drama queens, one and all.

You almost wish you had bugged the conference room and Tony's lab. Three years you danced to their tune. Now they could dance to yours. You had fuckery to spread.

#steve x reader #captain america #steve rogers x reader #avengers x reader #the avengers #dark reader

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morganaspendragonss · 4 years ago

Note

god your bthb prompts are so good 😭😭, i was wondering if you could do any of these with tarlos?

rage against reflection

suicide attempt

flashbacks

forced to kneel.

not all of them, of course! pick whichever you think you’ll do best at!

my only preference is physical whump at some point, but you don’t have to if you don’t want to! thank you love!

thank you my lovely!!! i chose forced to kneel - i hope you enjoy it! as always, i am looking for prompts to fill the remaining squares - if you have one, don’t hesitate to send me an ask!

@badthingshappenbingo prompt: forced to kneel

ao3 | 2.2k | tarlos

Carlos exchanged a tight-lipped look with his partner as they pulled up to the scene. Every available patrol unit had been called here, and he could see more than a few paramedic vehicles on standby in case things went south. He couldn’t help the nerves twisting his stomach into knots; hostage situations were always difficult, and there was something about today that had Carlos on edge.

He didn’t know why, but he had the strangest sense that something was about to go very wrong.

He and Rachel walked to where the lieutenant in charge of the scene was briefing them.

“We have reports of at least one hostile, but be aware that there may be more,” he was saying. “Presume they are armed. There are at least ten hostages, located in the conference room on the ground floor. Negotiation attempts have as yet been unsuccessful; the suspects’ motives are unclear.

“A group of you will enter the building with a view to neutralising the suspect. I’m sure it goes without saying, but do not engage in a manner that would harm the hostages, or you. Let’s not make this any more complicated than it needs to be. Understood?”

They nodded, at which the lieutenant appeared grimly satisfied. He began assigning positions, and Carlos knew even before he got to them what he was going to say.

Sure enough, “Reyes, Moreno - you’re going in,” the lieutenant said. “Get ready.”

“Yes, sir.”

Carlos’s nerves only grew as they strapped on their bulletproof vests, and he checked his gear twice to make sure he was prepared. Rachel nodded tightly at him and he returned the gesture, before heading into position.

Tightening his grip on his gun, Carlos spared a brief thought for TK. TK, who would no doubt hear about this over the news, if the numerous press vehicles arriving on scene were any indication. Carlos just hoped he would make it out of this in one piece, so he could get home to his boyfriend and collapse into his arms.

He was broken from his thoughts by the order to enter crackling over the line. Carlos let out a shaky breath, then steeled himself, body tight as they headed stealthily through the hotel. They managed to locate the conference room without any problems, though Carlos’s instincts were screaming at him that something was wrong.

There were four of them, though; surely one of them would have noticed if anything was truly amiss?

No sound came from inside the room. Locking eyes with Rachel, Carlos held up his fingers and silently counted down before forcing their way inside, guns drawn.

There was no one there. No one, except for the terrified hostages tied up at the far end. After sweeping the room, Carlos rushed over to them, Rachel on his heels, and began freeing them, holding a finger to his lips so they wouldn’t alert whoever had done this.

“Are you okay?” he murmured, pulling the gag out of the mouth of the woman in front of him.

She nodded. “Yes, thank you, I -” She trailed off, her eyes widening at something over Carlos’s shoulder at the same time as Rachel yelled his name.

Carlos didn’t even get a chance to turn before something cracked across the back of his head, and the world went dark.

He woke slowly, the fog in his brain taking a long time to clear. When it did, Carlos realised several things all at once.

One: he no longer had his gun or radio.

Two: he was tied up, and a quick glance to his right showed him that Rachel and the other two officers with them were in a similar situation.

And three: he might not make it back to TK after all.

It was this final thought that kicked his brain back into gear, and he frantically tried to come up with a plan to salvage the situation. There were two men standing on the other side of the room, and a third by the door - the hostage-takers, he presumed. None of them were looking directly at him, so Carlos tugged experimentally on his bindings. To his surprise, they were fairly loose; if he was quick, and quiet, he might be able to get free.

What he’d do then, Carlos didn’t know, but one step at a time.

Keeping one eye on the men, he carefully maneuvered himself, twisting until, at last, the ropes fell away from his wrists. He let out a relieved breath, then turned to Rachel, reaching to pull at her bindings.

He didn’t get far, however, when hands were on him, wrenching him away from her.

“Hey!” one of the men growled. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Carlos didn’t answer, praying that Rachel would have the sense to finish freeing herself and do something while they were focused on him. He yanked himself out of the man’s grip and managed to deliver a blow to his face before he was grabbed again, this time being forced to his knees.

The cool metal of a gun pressed against his forehead, and Carlos didn’t miss the sound of the safety clicking off.

“Trouble, aren’t you?” the man holding the gun hissed. “We’re going to have to do something about that.”

Carlos closed his eyes, allowing his body to sag minutely. The grip they had on him was too firm; there was no way he’d be able to escape from this kneeling position without earning a bullet to the head.

Though, he thought mournfully, there probably wasn’t anything he could do to avoid that bullet at this point anyway.

For the second time, he thought of TK, holding his face in his mind’s eye. He’d never hold him again, never kiss him again, but if he had to die, then Carlos was going to do it with the comfort that his last thought would be of TK’s smile as they had parted that morning.

Distantly, he heard a quiet click, and then -

TK checked his pocket for the twelfth time in five minutes as he exited the locker room, grinning when his fingers closed around the small velvet box.

If everything went to plan, in a couple of hours, Carlos would no longer be his boyfriend, but his fiancé. The thought sent a thrill through him, though it also simultaneously set his nerves spiking. Logically, he knew nothing could go wrong; he’d planned the evening to a tee, and he was confident that Carlos would say yes.

Buying the ring had been hard, memories flashing through his mind of the last time he had been in that position. But he was doing it for all the right reasons this time, and TK knew that Carlos was it for him. Proposing would be a formality, really, though that didn’t make it any less special.

He’d even begged Carlos’s mom’s help in teaching him to make tamales, and he was going to pick up a flower arrangement on his way home.

Everything would be perfect.

His teammates were still sitting in the communal area when he entered, eyes glued to the tv screen. TK frowned; he thought they’d have all gone home by now.

Paul was the first to notice him, and TK’s concern only grew as he got everyone else’s attention, their worried gazes falling on him one by one.

“What’s going on?” he asked warily. They had a silent argument, before Marjan slowly got to her feet, approaching him hesitantly, hands clasping and unclasping in front of her.

“I know you’re probably going to anyway, but don’t freak out.” She took a deep breath and met his eyes. “There’s a hostage situation at that big, fancy hotel across town. Apparently it’s pretty serious, they’ve had to send police in, and, um, well…”

Marjan paused, and TK felt dread wash through him, knowing what her next words would be.

“He’s there, TK. He’s gone in.”

TK spent the next hour alternating between pacing and staring at his phone, desperately hoping for it to ring. Paul had shut the news off pretty quickly after an announcement that shots had been fired had nearly sent TK into a panic attack, and now they were all watching him closely, to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid, TK guessed.

It made his skin crawl, having so many pairs of eyes on him, even if he understood why. He appreciated it, really, but if anything, it just made the urge to run stronger. He was about to make a break for the doors - just for some air - when a shrill sound cut through the tense silence.

TK’s phone rang.

He didn’t bother to check the id before answering, almost dropping his phone in his haste. “Carlos?”

“Um, no,” a distinctly female voice said. “It’s Rachel, actually, I’m Carlos’s -”

“His partner,” TK cut in, anxiety roiling in his stomach at the knowledge that it was Carlos’s partner, not Carlos himself who called him. “Is he okay?”

“He’s fine,” Rachel answered, apparently undeterred by TK’s lack of politeness. But he barely got a moment to feel relieved before she continued, “He’s in the hospital.”

TK let out a choked sound. “Hospital?” he whispered, the team looking up at him in alarm. “Hospital isn’t fine.”

“I know; that came out wrong.” She sighed. “Carlos got caught up in the middle of the shooting and a bullet grazed his side, but he’s okay, I swear. Last I heard, they want to keep him overnight for observation, but he’ll be fine.”

TK collapsed into the nearest chair, his head falling into his hands. Someone - he couldn’t tell who - started rubbing soothing circles on his back, and TK unashamedly leaned into the touch. “Which hospital is he at?” he eventually managed.

“St. David’s.”

“Thank you, Rachel.”

“Yeah, no problem.” A pause. “He really saved our asses today. I thought you’d want to know.”

TK breathed out shakily as he ended the call, allowing himself a moment to ride out the residual anxiety still coursing through his body.

“You okay, man?” Paul asked tentatively.

TK looked up at them. “Can one of you drive me to the hospital?”

As Rachel had promised, Carlos was sitting up in bed when TK arrived, looking as he always did - beautiful, happy, alive. His face lit up with a grin when he spotted him, and TK all but ran to him, barely remembering to thank Judd for the ride.

“Carlos,” he choked out, tears springing unbidden to his eyes as he carefully hugged him, mindful of his wound. Carlos hugged him back, his head buried in TK’s shoulder.

“It’s okay, Ty,” he said. “I’m okay.”

TK pulled back, his hands moving to frame Carlos’s face. “Are you, though?” he asked, checking his boyfriend over.

“I am,” Carlos promised. “They’re even sending me home tomorrow.”

He smiled, and TK couldn’t help but to smile back, falling into the chair next to the bed. He grasped Carlos’s hand in his own, rubbing his thumb across it as a comfortable silence fell between them.

“So much for date night, huh?” Carlos joked, cocking an eyebrow at him.

TK laughed drily. “Yeah,” he said. “Your mom’s going to be so disappointed you never got to try the tamales she helped me make.”

He said the words without thinking, and regretted them as soon as they were out. TK winced as Carlos straightened, turning to stare at him.

“You’ve been cooking with my mom?” he asked, shock and confusion evident in his voice.

“Um.” TK swallowed nervously. “Yes?”

Carlos frowned. “But… Why?”

“I, uh… Fuck.” TK closed his eyes, knowing there was no way he could talk his way out of this one. When he opened them again, he shifted in his seat, breaking their hands apart, and reached in his pocket for the ring box. “For the record, I had a whole plan for tonight, and not one part of it involved my boyfriend being in the hospital.”

“What are you talking about, Ty?” Carlos asked, bemused.

TK smiled at him, pulling the box out. Carlos’s mouth dropped open in shock when he saw it, and there were tears in his eyes when he looked back at him.

TK took a deep breath. “Carlos, these past two years with you have been the happiest of my life. You brought colour back into my life, and you’ve kept it there every single day. I love you more than I ever realised was possible, and I want to spend the rest of my life loving you. I never imagined that I would be asking you this in a hospital room, but I guess it’s kind of fitting for us, huh? So - Carlos Reyes, will you marry me?”

For a few nerve-wracking seconds, Carlos just stared, gaze flicking between TK’s face and the open ring box, tears slipping down his cheeks. Then, he brought his hands to TK’s face, a broad smile on his lips.

“TK Strand, I will marry you.”

And TK laughed, not caring about the tears on his own cheeks as he slipped the ring onto Carlos’s finger, leaning forward to kiss him. They were both smiling too much for it to be a proper kiss, but TK found he didn’t care - nor did he care that his plan hadn’t worked out.

Because Carlos Reyes was his fiancé, which TK thought was pretty damn perfect.

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sanchoyo · 3 years ago

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danny phantom season 2, episode 17-20 thoughts! finishing up season two! the finale is the THIRD 2-PARTER OF SEASON 2. that's so many! I wonder how many season 3 will have?

see prev episode thoughts in this tag <3

-UERGH WHY DOES VLAD HAVE AN AI WITH MADDIE'S FACE ON IT. SOOO CREEPY. AND MORE 'CREATIONS' waiiiit. vlad is Dr. Frankenstein! (despite his ghost design obviously referencing vampires) HE HAS 'CREATIONS' HE MAKES THEN WONT TAKE REAL RESPONSIBILITY FOR!!! this bitch.

-danny was late and his friends immediately start going off about how hes inconsiderate, and has been treating them like sidekicks??? he just overslept, my god. chill. even if he has, be nicer about talking about it with him?? he really can't help that he sometimes has to chase the ghosts, or has a secret identity to protect...

-'what kind of ghost haunts a miniature golf course' umm. me as a ghost. next question

-imagine going home and theres a tiny child on your bed claiming to be your cousin. with as many cousins I have, I would probably believe her. but the 'ran away from home' BIT....SHES 12?? SHES SO TINY. I hate that they have her belly out in her ghost form, but I like how her colors are asymmetrical. something about her design...maybe the proportions?? are weird to me...anyway danny was good to feed her, but he shouldve taken her to his parents FIRST. or, tbh, probably jazz. (JAZZ DIDNT EVEN GET TO MEET HER!!! NOOO. I mean she said she'll be BACK BUT STILL)

-ANYWAY. shes voiced by AnnaSophia Robb, the girl who was in because of winn dixie, played as violet from charlie and the chocolate factory, and was the girl from bridge to terrabithia. (the movie that made me cry hysterically when I was 12 and I never watched it again because it Broke Me!) thats super cool.

-vlad sucks: the episode, basically. what's new!! I love how he's like, I'm Not A Villain. *immediately cuts to him torturing danny to make him transform, to get mid-transformation DNA, to perfect a Clone.* *immediately shows that he doesnt give a shit about his new daughter Dani and just wants a ''more perfect clone'' and will put her in danger to get that. will let her DIE to get that*

-Dani is danny's clone and is a girl? transgenderism....one of them has to be trans. or they both are.

-dani just. leaving at the end. WHAT? SHES 12. DONT JUST. NO!!! SHE WAS PROBABLY JUST BORN, A MONTH AGO AT MOST, RIGHT?? SHE NEEDS...SOMEWHERE TO LIVE. MONEY? FOOD?? A FAMILY?? AN EDUCATION???! WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE'S LEAVING!!! OKAY BYE I GUESS!!! D: concern!!!

-the next ep opens with skulker chasing a ghost down. ...does skulker count as a ghost hunter in the way valerie and danny do? I mean, sure, he hunts the good guys too, but he. he hunts ghosts...also, we haven't seen his Real Form since his debut episode! tiny...

-the guys in white are back! ngl, I assumed they were a gag for that one episode. you're telling me they might actually be a threat? ok.

-valerie in her lil nasty burger uniform looks so cute!! glad shes not in that mascot uniform this time. I guess she stopped hiding that she's working there now?

-gregor having white hair, dressed in black and white...and green eyes...sam has a Type, I guess.

-danny being unnecessarily hostile about gregor. danny!!! hes been nice so far. he looks a little...tall to be 14, but. danny doesnt know anything about him! (he does Suspect, but...you cant just spy on people and be rude to them from a hunch.) also, gregor kissed her, and when she freaked out, he was like 'oh no!! sorry, we can take it slow! I understand!' which was NICE. I hate jealousy plots still tho.

-altho. umm. tucker, being concerned about danny spying on them??? SAM AND YOU WERE SPYING ON DANNY AND VALERIE A FEW EPISODES AGO!!!!! im not saying its RIGHT, but dont be a hypocrite!!! AND THEN SAM BEING MAD ABOUT IT, TOO.

-DANNY IS A 7 ON THE SCALE OF ECTOPLASMIC POWER!!! out of 10? so I want to know where the other ghosts rank...I mean it's a list from the guys in white, so, it may not even be accurate, like, they havent seen ALL of his powers, have they?

-Lancer being like 'im not cooperating with the FEDS' until they said they could access his tax records. they already did that joke with jack, but like, its still funny. kings of tax evasion.

-tucker's aggressive third-wheeling. but gregor being super into it. gregor/tucker is the real ship here. then gregor kissing danny on both cheeks after hugging him. bi poly king gregor. (he does turn out to be a liar with a phoney accent. unsurprising, BUT THE CONCEPT OF HIM BEING GENUINE AND THEM ALL DATING IS FUN)

-THE...GUYS IN WHITE THINKING GREGOR IS DANNY PHANTOM. LMAOOO. GET HIS ASS. or,, Elliot. lmfao

-sam saying tucker is part of the package because theyre friends was super sweet <3 but also 'part of the package'...polyships are obviously the solution to these dumb jealousy/love triangle plots.

-danny crashed a whole plane. the collateral damage...

-is he....

-you know....

.... (ITS NOT GAY IF YOU'RE DOING IT TO PRETEND TO BE SOMEONE YOU'RE NOT, AND LIE TO A GIRL. RIGHT? he was getting a little too into pretending to enjoy tucker's company, and the above...c'mon, guy.)

-lmao, freakshow is in actual prison. I didn't expect a follow up, or for him to show back up! in the finale of this season, too!

-THE SICK TATTOO GHOST IS NAMED LYDIA!!! more Lore On her. freakshow seemed genuinely concerned about her. also, is she mute? I don't think she talked the first time we saw her, either. and we didn't know freakshow 'envied' ghosts, either, the first time, we just knew he was controlling them. interesting!

-...they literally stole the infinity gauntlet from marvel and called it the reality gauntlet. is that legal. what the fuck. even with the gems in the lil slots, having different powers...they had freakshow in jail, but didnt check his pockets??! hes just still in his lil outfit??? what kind of ...oh, its in amity park. yeah, all of the adults are idiots, okay, sure.

-'freakshow!' 'in the anemic flesh!' dude take some iron pills then. also, sure, the red eyes could be contacts for his aesthetic, but the whites of his eyes are yellow! does he have jaundice?! he severely needs more...like, every kind of vitamin. (this is what im worried about as freakshow attacks danny with giant robots)

-again, goth circus is a sick theme, and I love his goth train.

-oh FUCK every single person saw danny transform. on a stage. including his parents via TV. oh god. the guys in white and immediately like 'youre coming in for experiments!' SCARY. at least the crowd is willing to help him to escape...perks of now being a local celeb! even the kids at school are accepting :) this is what, the third time his family has found out? its always been an alt timeline tho. and danny fully intending to just rewrite things again instead of...I dunno, trying to roll with it this time? hes really worried his family won't accept him, huh...

-'maybe our son IS THE GHOST BOY, but its not as if our family's ghostly activities have EVER PUT YOUR FAMILIES IN DANGER' maddie. mmmmmmmmmmmm. okay.

-danny 100% prepared to run away from home because of this :( oh :( and saying his parents are 'looking for him, or a scalpel to dissect him with' ouch...

-THE GUYS IN WHITE TRYING TO ARREST A 14 YEAR OLD. fuck da feds.

-side note (another one about voice actors...) freakshow's voice actor, Jon Cryer, was lex luthor in pretty much every DC tv show, which is why I recognized his voice, because my dad loves those shows so I've seen a good bit of them without seeking them out...)

-the old man saying 'hey, i still had minutes left!' and danny saying 'you gotta watch those roaming charges!' about danny destroying the people in the diner's phones so no one could report seeing him...would kids today understand these things. can you even BUY minutes anymore...I remember my first phone being a flip phone, and the fact I always had minutes when my sister ran out super fast, because I didnt have friends calling or texting me like she did...:/

-the fentons being genuinely like 'why didnt danny trust us and tell us this, we love him :(' and JAZZ LAYING INTO THEM WITH THE 'DISSECTION/MOLECULE BY MOLECULE' LINES. LITERALLLLY. they need to apologize

-technically, lydias stronger than you! -jazz lesbianism moments! when did you even learn her name!!! but also get freakshows ass. lydia is also cooler looking. looove her design sm still.

-jazz psychoanalyzing freakshow... (also, her also having ghost envy? au where jazz is a ghost!! id like to see it)

-im glad the kids still got to go to their respective vacation things, even if they cant really stick around and enjoy them much...

-furry: confirmed. (also tucker calling her hot. tucker is a furry confirmed)

-danny being mad someone at the comic con is selling comics of him without permission, lmfao. give him his royalties!

-freakshow > thanos because hes a drama clown and does use his gauntlet to be FLASHY AND DRAMATIC.

-jazz's 'USE PYSCOLOGY' to danny about freakshow LMAOO. AND THEN IT WORKING. but, oh, freakshow's ghost form sucks. I like him as a clown better tbh. good thing danny took away his ghost powers!

-his parents hugging him and saying theyre proud :"( and saying 'of course you lied to us, we never gave you a reason not to!' and saying they were in the wrong basically for always talking about hurting ghosts aaaa :""(

-then he WIPED THEIR MEMORIES AGAIN!!! FUCK. I can understand him wiping the goverments/student bodies' memories, but why his parents?? they were being accepting!! ARGHHH. season 3 couldve been them all trying to adjust to them knowing!

-I know, on a meta level the showrunners probably wanted to just reset things to the status quo of him having a secret identity. But. We've been doing that for (2) seasons, I'd love if season 3 could be like, his parents adjusting to this and trying way harder to learn more and accept it (and the shenanigans that could come from that) and for fun, if he didn't wipe the students memories, it could be him being popular for a while, then everyone slowly realizing, oh, he's still Danny. Like. he might have ghost powers but hes Just The Same Guy instead of putting him on a pedestal (and seeing them all try and help him hide it from the giw/people who don't know!!)

-fuck they didn't even explain WHY he wiped everyone except sam, tucker and jazz's memories. he just Did It right when his parents were saying they loved/accepted him!! and sam and tucker didnt question it at all!!! HELLO??? very annoyed about this turn of events.

-anyway. onto season 3! I know its shorter than the first two seasons, and is the last season... I might just do it in 2 bursts if I can... :3c depends on the episodes' content and how much I want to say about each!

#sanchoyorambles #danny phantom #dp thoughts

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nyeltg · 3 years ago

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Today, I received my ID as a Staff writer for Baguio Chronicle. This is not what I expected but I'm grateful to have this. Anywho, I'm just a rookie, I am very thankful. From a random message from my Managing Editor, here I am, typing on their PC inside their "newsroom". It was a fresh start. LITERALLY. I received that message saying "Thursday sa Baguio Chronicle Office sa Bayanihan Bldg 4 PM" and woah I immediately informed my mama about the interview. There I packed my clothes, registered my name on the website of Baguio and hurriedly go back to the mountain for this so called "opportunity".

Fast forward on the day of the interview. I met Sir Frank, with his old jeans and with the idea of not knowing his face. Fudge he's a poet, it's not an obvious trait of him but yeah, he also spoke in an event of Rappler at my school but I never recognized him nor recalled that he's present that time. I also met Ma'am Lucy and Ma'am Flor, they're so kind btw. Too bad, we don't meet together. I would always wait for that moment to join "adult" meetings, to discuss probable stories, assignments or try to have an argument like Natashya and Patricia of Rappler. But, I'm looking forward for that to happen lol

Idk when will I receive my paycheck, maybe this December, I'm running out of funds for food, transpo, grocery, laundry and rent. I was too shy to ask for my parents because we were in a tight budget. Mom is still re-applying for work overseas and we're barely surviving. But I'm continuing to dream, to pursue this career because I want to, because I'm happy to write, happy to explore and risk everything I have. I would always remember a scenario in concern to this path, a photojournalist of Midland Courier (?) asked me, "Bakit gusto mong maging journo e wala namang pera dito?" there I contemplated, looking away from my window, then I realized this is what I want. To inspire other people to write, like my idols/ inspirations did to me, to boost the hidden talent inside me. Idk if they're reading my articles but hey I always pour everything in that google docs, chasing deadlines on fridays. This is not my time to shine, but I know I'll be there. It was magical to see my name printed on our newspaper. They printed my first ever article. It was from a Kapihan at Gran Sierra Hotel. An encounter that I will not forget. With a memo pad on hand, I carried myself with pride, not knowingly that my editor will not come. I was the only intern that time, i don't even know how they gather for a presscon heck ask proper questions. There, I found myself on a seat beside a fellow Louisian, now a writer for Baguio Midland Courier. The next thing I remember, my hand is casually writinf very fast about the updates for the IBAGIW festival. There, again, I found myseld next in line, waiting for my turn to ask questions to the panel. It went well, I learned so much on that session. Enjoying the meal that the hotel provided, we had a brief moment and chitchat with the writer beside me. It was cool to know that she's a fellow Louisian. She then would advice me, even the other tito media men saying my questions for the panel are great. It was a happy moment. Fulfilling. I can clearly see myself reporting, writing, and asking questions. This is what I want and I wish to do this formally in the future. Being a rookie is hard but with my seniors' guidance, I know I'll be good. It's nice to know that they still remember my name, even if I'm not a local. That fellow Louisian/seatmate remembered my name in t'was a big deal actually, cos there's only few people that could remember me excluding my colleague in BagChro, Kuya Angel lol He can't even recognize my face hehi

So yeah, I will go back to this post to see myself after idk years, I want to asses if I'll grow or be stuck in this miserable life. But I'll leave a reminder that young Reniel will find his way, his voice and his platform reporting on big and buzzing news. To my future beat... to my success... and to the career that I am most passionate about... I hope I will succeed.

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mhafiction · 4 years ago

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Req from @annonymousbread:

Here is an actual request if you’re okay with it ☺️

Maybe a story where katsu’s crush from class 1-A gets kidnapped and they don’t find her for over a year. Which by then class 1-A has graduated and all become pro hero’s.

Then Katsuki finally finds her on one of his missions?

Note: This is really becoming a Bakugo fanfic blog huh? I’m not complaining, he’s a very fun boy. -K.

“Bakugo!”

He remembered it. Your sobbing, the fear in your voice, your cries of pain. He saw the rubble, the overcast sky, every little thing rendered with terrifying accuracy. He looked down at his hands. Why was he back here? An uneasy feeling reveled in the pit of his stomach. You cry out again, your shouts solitary and panicked. Lighting courses through his veins, and without an ounce of hesitation, he takes off running. He had to find you.

His lungs burn as he navigates the field, his heart pounding in his head, eyes darting back and forth with frenzied panic as he scans the ruins. Y/N, where are you? The rubble morphs into a terrifying maze, and he feels a cold sweat drip down his back. Bakugo hears you call out his name again and again, and fears the worst, turning around-

There you were, standing in front of him with that faraway look in your eyes. Your eyes... those goddamn eyes haunted him ever since. He reached out to you, tried to call you name-

But you slipped right through his fingers. His throat was tight; nothing came out. And you just stared at him, unblinking, lips ever so slightly parted.

“Why Katsuki? Why couldn’t you have saved me?”

Your voice is accusatory, bitter, and so unlike everything that he knew about you... yet it felt so real.

Bakugo feels a dryness in his mouth as he shouts to you, his voice cracking. It was if a dam burst, and he sobs, sinking to his knees. “I tried!” He curses, watching you turn your back to him, and as he reaches out his hand to catch your wrist, he jolts awake.

Katsuki pants, heaving up and down. Sweat rolls down his forehead. It had felt way too real. He sighs, checking the clock. 4 am. Great. Should he even be surprised? He rises, pulling open his curtains and preparing for the day ahead, your face still fresh in his mind

Bakugo hadn’t gotten a good night’s rest since your disappearance, almost two years ago. Hell, he wondered how anyone from 1-A did. They had been there, too- that fateful day of the school festival, everyone riled up to celebrate the fact that it was their last one before graduation. And of course, something had to go wrong.

Your quirk was invaluable and insanely powerful: controlling probability. If you stockpiled enough energy, you could exert it to tip the scales to someone’s advantage, which could range from boosting the probability of rolling a six on a die...or boosting the probability of someone winning a fight. It worked better when more specific and focused, however.

You had gained a lot of attention from having such an interesting quirk, but some of it turned out to be pretty...bad. Including a plucky group of villains who had been able to capture you during the school festival. The brawl had moved to the city, after Bakugo sent one of the dudes careening into the side of a building with a skillful explosion. Pros urged him to evacuate, but he didn’t listen. He couldn’t have, not when you had been among the ones to save him when he had been kidnapped.

But you weren’t as lucky.

They got away with you. Bakugo remembered the look on your face as you were whisked away into thin air. Gone without a trace, slipped through his fingers.

The search was an ordeal that was significantly harder than his own. The group that had kidnapped you was pretty underground. This, in fact, was their first major crime.

So that left police with no leads, no identification, and no evidence whatsoever. The case went cold. Not a day went by when Bakugo didn’t think of you. His graduation had been somber, Class 1-A collectively on edge together for the rest of the year. Y/N, the promising rising star, so obviously on track to becoming a powerful hero— snuffed out just like that. There was rage, there were tears, there was silence. But now, they had to move on. They were adults, pro-heroes who needed to focus on bigger things. He growled. Yeah, right.

It was no secret among his peers that he liked you. After that incident, many pitied him and the way he kept his head down and his jaw clenched. They didn’t speak up when he lost his temper, they didn’t point out that he was easier to piss off than usual, and they didn’t try to stop him when he’d curse a disproportionate amount at some inanimate object that had wasn’t working right. They knew his pain. Despite him never opening up to anyone, they knew. Bakugo immersed himself in his ambition; training and fighting being the only “healthy” outlet he had. By the time he left UA, he was already in the top ten and slowly forming an agency. He kept an old bulletin board dedicated to your case, spending months trying to track you. Everyone considered him crazy for refusing to let go. But that never stopped him.

His phone rings, and he groans, seeing the contact. Nevertheless, he answers, forcefully brushing the phone against his ear.

“Deku?!”

“Ah! Kacchan, I need to ask for your help on a case.”

Bakugo rubs his temples, annoyed just at the sound of his childhood friend’s voice.

“Heh? Like I would help you, nerd!”

Deku’s voice takes on a graver tone, somewhat faltering. “I think you’d want to after you hear this guy’s MO.”

“Yeah right.”

“No, listen. You remember-“ Deku pauses a moment, hesitating as he chokes back his words. His voice is strained over the phone, betraying some sort of feeling that leaves Bakugo on edge. “You remember Y/N?” Deku continues.

Bakugo bites his lip, brow furrowed with anguish. Internally, he thanks whatever higher power there is that his old friend can’t see his face.

“How could I forget?” He mumbles.

“Well,” Deku breathes, his tone still solemn. “This guy- eyewitness reports say he vanishes into thin air. Literally. He’s been spotted all over the prefecture, mostly dealing in theft, but the most recent case they’ve linked him to is the kidnapping of a Shiketsu boy. Promising kid. The cases also match up with your research, too. I know it’s a stretch-“

Bakugo looks at the old bulletin board placed above his bed, bitter recollection filling his head. “I’m in.”

“Eh? You are?”

“Yes, you shitty nerd! Just brief me on the course of attack. Bastard won’t know what hit him.” He prays that Deku won’t catch on to the trembling intensity of his words. He didn’t need anyone else’s pity, much less Deku’s. What he needed was to find you.

“...You know it might not be him, right? And even if it is, there’s no guarantee...?”

Bakugo tenses, and the line is silent for a moment. His palms are suddenly heavy, weary with exhaustion. He sighs, frustration in a single breath.

“Goddamn it, I know that. But I have to try, Deku.” His voice cracks, shaky but firm. “I owe it to her.”

Deku is quiet. The air is thick—almost suffocating. And finally, he responds.

“Then, drop by my agency this evening. There’s a lot to cover.”

———————————————————————

“Peh. So this is the place.”

Bakugo looks up at the building. It was modest, but classy. Respectable,especially with its prime location. Not that he’d let Deku know.

He’s escorted into a conference room, eyeing the place up and down. His face contorts into dramatic anger when he locks eyes with none other than Todoroki Shouto.

“WHAT’S ICY-HOT DOING HERE?!”

Bakugo grabs Midoriya by the collar, his eye twitching and his fist poised. Deku starts sputtering like a dying fish, waving his hands around.

“Kacchan- he was interested in the mission, too! And it’s not like we can’t use his help-“

“YES WE CAN! WE DON’T NEED HIM!”

“But he might be useful! He’s a top ranking hero too, you know-“

“THAT DOESN’T MEAN HE’LL BE USEFUL!”

Bakugo reels back his arm, ready to blast Deku’s ass into the stratosphere. Todoroki appears behind him, cool as ever.

“Bakugo,” Shouto begins, gently setting a hand on his shoulder. “She was my friend, too.”

Bakugo pauses, his violent persona sufficiently diffused. He loosens his grip on Midoriya, casting Todoroki a wayward glare. Shouto returns it with his own determined eyes. “Tch. Whatever. Let’s get on with this.”

They settle into seats, Midoriya wheeling in a large whiteboard with meticulous notes dotted all over it.

“First and foremost, I guess I should start with the fact that we’ll also be joined by Uravity, Red Riot, and Froppy,” Midoriya begins, adjusting a projector.

“Do we really need that many people?”

“In all likelihood, no. But there’s a tip that this guy is linked to some bigger crime ring.” A map charting several misdemeanors flicks onto the board. “So, with backup, we’re better safe than sorry.”

Bakugo slumps in his chair. “What is this, a high school reunion?” He jeers.

Midoriya gives him a wry smile. “I guess you can look at it like that. Thanks to your intel, Kacchan, we were able to track down his ID. I went through some records down at the station, and the guy we’re going after apparently has some sort of molecular rearrangement quirk.”

Todoroki cocks his head. “Sort of like that Yakuza guy? Back with Eri?”

“Sort of. But the point is, it allows him to disappear covertly. Really covertly. He just needs to break down his body and his target to their smallest forms and he can manipulate and transport them without a trace. Disappearing into thin air.”

“That sounds awfully familiar,” Todoroki notes, giving Bakugo a quick glance. Bakugo snorts in response, recalling your disappearance. Thin air, huh?

Midoriya nods. “I have a hunch that...it’s the same guy. But, since there’s no guarantee, let’s not get our hopes up. Let’s just focus on prioritizing the rescue.” He turns his board over, revealing an even more intricate chart on the back. “Let’s go over a plan.”

———————————————————————

The fateful day arrived. Police encircled the building- some dingy joint on the bad side of town that looked like any other dive bar. Bakugo would lead the calvary alongside Kirishima and Todoroki, while Asui and Deku rounded off any potential exits. Uraraka watched from above, surveying the entire scene with bated breath.

Bakugo kicks down the door, poised to attack, and meets the faces of at least twenty other folks. One shouts above the ramble and suddenly all hell breaks loose. People are throwing bottles, attacking at Bakugo and each other- and he catches a glimpse of someone fleeing down a flight of stairs behind the bar.

He pursues, carving through the dense crowd with ease. He flies down the stairwell, greeting darkness almost immediately. Bakugo’s explosions flicker in his hands, casting orange shadows over his face in the dim hall. It’s narrow, and there’s only one way to go. There’s only one thing to do. He takes off running, panting heavily, gritting his teeth. This bastard- the nerve he had. To steal the futures of some promising kids.

The hall opens to a cavernous room, and Bakugo edges along the wall, silently inching forward. He catches a glimpse of a long shadow limping back and forth, pacing with nervous energy. Bakugo grins to himself, prepared to strike, and as the silhouette passes the opening of the hallway, he tackles them, restraints in hand. “DIE!” He sends an explosion to their backside. The villain lets out a sturdy cry of pain and immediately yields. Not that it mattered, the restraints wouldn’t permit the use of his quirk whatsoever.

Bakugo looks the guy up and down, hate filling his chest. He growls, “You’ve got a lot of nerve, you know that?”

The man is silent, not even meeting Bakugo’s fiery eyes. Bakugo forces his head towards him, watching fear dance in his gaze. He sneers. “You’re just a coward,” he spits.

Kirishima’s footsteps patter through the hall, and the red-haired boy bursts into the room, stumbling upon the scene.

“Bakugo! That’s the guy!” Bakugo tosses the criminal to him, surveying the area. “Take care of it,” he mumbles in his raspy tone. “I’m looking for the victim.”

He approaches a nearby door- old and decrepit, like everything else in the place. With calculated force, he blasts it down, dread forming in the pit of his stomach. The room is dirty and neglected, like some kind of dungeon.

His eyes widen when he sees your face, hollow cheeks and empty eyes chained against the wall alongside a sobbing boy. Shock fills your sunken form, and you utter out his name, a wistful, raspy murmur.

“Katsuki...?”

Bakugo freezes, once again feeling a terrible weight in his chest. He wants to scream, he wants to go to you- but he’s rooted to the spot, disgusted at your treatment...and at himself. Police flood the little room, Midoriya shouting commands and comforting the boy, and everything’s in a haze. But throughout it all, he never tears his eyes from you, despite the clenching he feels in his heart.

You wake up in an unfamiliar hospital bed. The world seems different. Fresh, and new. A small smile forms on your face, and you giggle quietly to yourself, blinking in the gentle light. You examine the room. A clean, white place with a monitor beeping softly in the background. The hum of machines drone on, and to your right-

You gasp, surprised to see the sleeping face of none other than Bakugo Katsuki, slumped down in a chair. Your childhood crush, handsome as ever. Halos bounced off of the spikes of his hair where the light hit him, leaving him looking like some otherworldly beauty. You laugh to yourself, starting as a small chuckle at this moment- then dissolving into a deep, boisterous and emotional expression of mirth, one that caused tears to form at the corner of your eyes and made you choke over your own joy. It inadvertently woke your spiky-haired hero, who looked down at you, eyes wide and tired.

“Y/N.”

You lift your hand up to him, cupping his face. “Katsuki.”

His jaw clenches, and his eyes go glassy. As he speaks, you feel a sadness, deep and broken, in his heart, and his voice cracks.

“I’m sorry...I’m sorry I couldn’t be faster. That I couldn’t save you-“ he chokes.

“I never lost hope in you.” Bakugo looks into your eyes, and your heart skips a beat with how vulnerable he looks. “I stockpiled energy with the hope that you’d rescue me,” you whisper, brushing away a tear from his face. “I trusted you’d be the one. Out of all of them at UA-“ you smile softly, recalling your high school years. “You were the one I thought of the most. And thinking of you...it gave me hope.” How far away it all seemed. Those days with your friends, training on the field, hoping to be a hero.

“I thought of you, too.” Bakugo grips your hand, as if afraid you’ll disappear again. You pull him into a hug, stroking his trembling form. It felt so good to be in his arms, almost dream like. “Katsuki, I have something to tell you, though,” you murmur. “I had quite the crush on you, back at UA,” you chuckle. He pulls back, still holding you. He brings a calloused hand to your face, drinking in your features. “I did, too,” he admits. You feel butterflies flutter in your stomach, and suddenly it’s as if you’re sixteen again.

“Do you think it’s still there?” You breathe.

He never takes his eyes from yours, and slowly moves in to press his forehead to yours.

“If you do.” You close the distance, placing a kiss on his lips. You drown in his familiar scent, sighing with contentment. Now, this felt like home. Bakugo moves back cautiously, his gentle demeanor and tone never shifting. He brushes a hair away from your face, ever so softly.

“God, you think we can make it work?” He mutters. “You deserve someone who could have saved you on the first try.”

Your brow creases watching Katsuki avert his gaze. You force him to turn his head to you, looking at you straight on. “We have the rest of our lives, Katsuki,” you tell him. “And don’t you dare think that you’ve failed me. You’re the one who tried the hardest. You’re the one who saved me.” Bakugo shrugs.

“I didn’t do it alone.”

You shake your head, beaming. “That’s not what I mean. Holding on to the idea that you’d come— that’s what saved me. I would have died, ages ago if I didn’t carry that hope with me. If I didn’t have that goal to save up my energy to help you find me.”

Bakugo softens beneath your touch, melting as you give him a couple of pecks. He grips your tiny hand in his, swearing that he’ll never let you go ever again.

#bnha x reader #bnha x y/n #mha #bnha #mha x reader #mha x y/n #bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo imagine #bakugo fluff #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugo katuski x reader

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prorevenge · 4 years ago

Text

Sweet sweet revenge

So for starters this is from about 2 years ago now. I used to work at very well known pizza chain restaurant. If Scooby doo could say it, it would called Rominos. I first started out there as just a cashier and would just do the normal stuff, running the register and placing orders. I eventually learned how to make the pizzas. Over time the store manager wanted to promote me to shift runner. For those who don't know what that is, it's a step below assistant manger. So when I promoted, id be in charge of running the shift and delegate roles for the shift and tell employees when they could leave.

Anyways, getting off topic... while I was working there, there was a guy who started there that had worked there before. When he was there before, he was an assistant manager. He left one day during a busy evening when the store was slammed with orders and customers. He apparently got too stressed out and couldn't handle it anymore. So two years later he comes back, but now as a delivery driver. When he first started for the second time, I didn't know who he was and I had never met him before that. He seemed nice.... at first. After a few days he kept trying to be the person in charge. I had to put him in his place a few times when I was running the shift. Now I wasn't on the best of terms with the store manger. We had a few blow outs here and there, mostly from him breathing down my neck when we were really busy. I snapped at him and told him to back off and let me do my damn job. So when I went to him to tell him about the delivery driver (we'll call him Brad) was trying to act as a manger he didn't seem to really care. Alright whatever. I was talking to the one assistant manager that I was friends with (we'll call him Chad). I had told him the deal and he told me to just tell him off. The next shift I worked with Brad, he again tried acting as the manager, I told him he isn't an Assistant manager anymore and he's driver and needs to stop as I'm the one that's in charge of the shift. He huffed and walked away from me. Everything was fine for a while... Well one day I was sitting in the office taking care of a few things on the computer, and in comes Brad. He starts talking to me about an order and just messing around with me. As I'm finishing up on the computer, he kneels down making it look like he's picking something up off the floor so I don't pay him any mind. Next thing I know, he's jabbing a finger into my breast. I froze unsure of what to do. A million things ran through my mind in a split second. Now before I continue on I should note, this isn't the first time to happen to me in my life. When I was in high school, a guy thought it would be funny/cool to grab my breast as hard as he could one day we were on the bus. In the end I beat the living hell out of him. It took a few people to keep from doing some real damage. He then got expelled from the school. A year or two later I had moved and a similar situation happened on the bus again, this time I didn't get a chance to do anything because the school bus pulled up to his stop and he ran off the bus. Got him suspended from school and his parents apologized to me along with making him apologize as well. Theres some other issues, but you get the point.

So anyway, he jabbed my breast hard and I froze. All those times I had that happen to me flashed through my mind. I got up and I went out back slamming the door hard. I was pacing back and forth for a few minutes. I didn't know what to do, didn't know what to think... I was shaking from being utterly pissed off and from a feeling I couldn't recognize. Now this is the kicker, he comes out acting like nothing happened and telling me how I need to keep the back door locked because that's how the place got robbed before, 4 years ago by the old store managers son... Well the conversation went a little like this

Me: I don't give a fuck! Leave me the fuck alone and go the fuck back inside!

Brad: Don't yell at me and curse at me!

Me: Dude you really do not want to fuck with me right now! Go the fuck back inside NOW! I am not going to Fucking say it again!

Brad: And what are you going to do if I don't?

So before I can say another word Chad comes out because he hears me yelling at Brad. When he sees how red my face is, he gets Brad back inside and then comes to check on me. At this point I'm sitting in my car crying and shaking because I was so mad and so upset. I explained to him what happen. I lived with my mom at the time and he told me to call her, so I did. I told her what happened and she told me to call the Store manager and tell him that something needs to be done about Brad. So I call the Store manager and this is the conversation:

Me: Hey so I wanted to let you know that Brad was very inappropriate and sexually assaulted me. (Blah blah blah you know the story).

Store manager: Oh my god you guys seriously act like children. You all need to grow up.

Me: What!? Are you being serious right now? I need to grow up? Dude one of your MALE employees assaulted me!!

Store manager: Whatever I'll take care of it. Bye.

So when he said he would take care of it, he meant "I'm gonna smack him on the hand and tell him that's not nice and send him home for the night".

Okay fine, I take it a step further and call the District manager. He doesn't answer so I left a voicemail telling him that I needed to discuss something with him in regards to Brad and that if I didn't receive a phone call back, I was going to press charges on Brad. Never got a call back. So I take it another step further... I decide to file a police report. Got my statement written up and had a court date set. Now mind you the day he got arrested we were all working, myself, Chad, Brad, and Store Manager, plus a bunch of others. When the cop that I had given my statement to came in and arrested him, the look on Brad's face was amazing and the look on Store manager's face was priceless too. Store manager kept asking the cop why he was arresting Brad and the cop said that he wasn't at liberty to tell him and that if Brad would like to say then he could tell him. Well B was released a couple hours later and turns out THE DISTRICT MANAGER BAILED HIM OUT!!!!! I was livid. So Brad came back to the store and told Store Manager what happened and why he was arrested. Well I got sent home early because of the issue. I was told neither Brad nor myself would be allowed to return to work until after the issue was resolved in court. Well my mom worked next door, and guess who she seen back at work the next day having a jolly ol time with Store Manager and District Manager.... you guessed it, Brad was back at work already. I call up the District Manager and ask why Brad is allowed back but I'm not. He spews a bunch of bs about how I have a toxic relationship with Store Manager and that's why I'm not allowed back and then offers me to work at a store over an hour away from me, not guaranteed the same position and pay. I told him to shove the job up his ass and to fuck off with that bullshit and hung up on him.

Court day comes, I show up and head over to my lawyer and my support lady that was there. The hearing gets underway and the verdict, not guilty. Great. If only I had gotten this guy who ill call Zack to come (not his real name for privacy reasons). Remember how I said Brad used to work there a few years ago, well that's when Zack was there. Zack was 16 then and Brad was 32.... He told Zack to get down on his knees and to suck daddy's balls..... If Zack had come to the hearing, I could have gotten a guilty verdict. But because I had no proof of what he did, he got off free. Well.... this is where my revenge takes place..... My entire family found about what happened and I legally couldn't take to social media for legal purposes, but nothing ever said my family couldn't. Little did Brad, Store Manager, and District Manager know, my family had a lot of connections and ties in the community. Within a day everyone in the town and in surrounding towns too, found out what had happened. Well needless to say, they lost A LOT of business. Rominos FIRED District Manager, Store Manager, AND Brad!!!!! They aren't ever allowed to work or come into any of the stores ever again. On top of that some how in the midst of things, someone in town found out that the DM was cheating on his wife and told her.... She divorced him and got everything.... Everything could have been fine had DM called me back or even just sided with me. But nope he wanted to side with a pedophile/predator. In the end, I still came out on top!

TL:DR

Employee sexually assaults me, district manager and store manager protect him. Store gets boycotted, store loses sales, higher ups find out what happened, the three of them get fired and black listed from all stores. District managers wife in the midst of everything gets told by a local boycotter that he's been cheating on her. She divorces him and gets everything.

(source) story by (/u/UnicornRainbow666)

#prorevenge #by /u/UnicornRainbow666 #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #last10

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miracul0us-multishipper · 5 years ago

Text

Welcome to the Back (Part 11)

First Chapter Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Lila knew the situation was getting out of hand, even before she heard Ladybug reveal that they weren’t friends. At this point, she had already escaped the school and hidden outside, where she was in no danger to be seen by Sentiquill.

“Stupid Ladybug!”, she muttered as she walked home, not bothering to check up on the others or return to school. Even after she saw the Miraculous Cure flash through the sky, her pace didn’t slow. She needed time to think of a fitting lie, and the fallout of today’s akuma would be enough to deal with tomorrow. Ugh, she hated Paris! You could never know what happened next, never plan ahead!

She groaned.

To be fair, the akuma attack was actually kind of convenient this time. It gave her a chance to check up on her looks at home, prepare for the meeting this afternoon. There was no second chance for the first impression, after all!

So when she entered the TV1 tower and flashed the employee ID she’d stolen from Mireille, she looked as professional as she could get.

René Bordeaux’s office was easy to find. His name was written on the door in bright, red letters and the voice that yelled into a phone on the other side was iconic. With a confident smile, she knocked on the door. The voice fell silent, then yelled into the phone once more before hanging up. Angry footsteps advanced and the door was flung open.

“What is it?!”, a middle-aged man shouted. Lila scanned him quickly. Carefully styled, blond-dyed hair. There was a hint of grey in his roots, something he obviously meant to hide. Scared of aging probably.

His suit looked brand new, but was a little too short on the ankles, she noticed and drew her conclusions: He valued luxury and tried to intimidate with pricy clothes, but didn’t actually know a lot about fashion and likely bought whatever looked the most expensive. He had sideburns, for God’s sake. 60’s nostalgia? Probably wanted to go back to “the good old days” his dad had talked about wistfully when he was young. She wondered if he was right-wing. A Control freak, judging by the meticulously organized room behind him, and he was single given the lacking photos of a girlfriend on his desk. Or photos of anything other than himself in general. There was a wedding ring on his finger, even though Lila’s research had brought up his disastrous divorce of Evelyn Leanne, and that he hadn’t married since. His lack of reminders of Leanne in the office - reference to the photos - made her doubt he harbored any romantic sentiment for her. He was only bitter about being shunned, and about losing a perfect trophy family. Likely hadn’t accepted the divorce.

All these deductions only took her seconds to complete, René Bordeaux was an open book.

Her smile widened. So much potential!

“Oh, my apologies.”, she said sweetly. “I was looking for René Bordeaux, but if he’s not here yet-“

“I’m René Bordeaux! Why do you think would I be in this office, otherwise?!”

She gasped in false shock.

“You? But you look so young!”

The man blinked, thrown off his rhythm. His anger deflated and his raised hand dropped to his side.

“I... I guess!”

He caught himself and crossed his arms.

“Well, you have a point. But I hear that a lot, young Lady, so what do you want?”

Perfect.

“I am Lila Rossi.”, she introduced herself. “I called you yesterday, about the Journalism Junior contest you produce. A great idea, by the way.”

“Ah, yes, of course. What was that about again?”

Time to get bolder.

“May I come inside?”, she crooned. “This shouldn’t be discussed so out in the open. Wouldn’t want the public to hear of it.”

Now she had his attention. Bordeaux had made his money as a populist and paparazzi, a reporter known for his scandalous articles. He’d lost his job after the lawsuits last year, but his new position as chief editor of TV1 didn’t mean he had lost his lurid hunger for sensations - especially if he was the first one to know.

He huffed, but stepped back to let her in. The view out of the window front was fantastic, but she wasn’t here to marvel at the city. So she came straight to the point.

“I am a great fan of you work!”, she lied. “Especially your article after the Leanne-Agreste Show Disaster. Your concern about your son’s well being was very inspiring for me. I wish I had a father like that.”

She was glad she didn’t have a father like that, but Bordeaux didn’t need to know that. His brows furrowed in confusion.

“Am I supposed to be flattered?”, he grumbled, but his chest visibly swoll with pride. “What does this have to do with the contest?”

Her shoulders dropped in concern.

“Monsieur Bordeaux, I don’t know how to tell you this, but... See, Felix is in my class, and I am very concerned about him. I wanted to do my report on him, but what I found during my research worries me.”

He’s a control freak, she remembered, and he has no real sentiment towards his family. He only cares about reputations.

“He’s surrounding himself with all the wrong people, and when I - as the class representative - wanted to warn his mother, she brushed me off as if she didn’t care at all.”

Bordeaux tried to hide his interest, but there was a spark of hunger in his eyes. He was sensing a chance.

“Is that so?”

“Yes. See, our class is very... diverse.”

If he leaned to right side of politics, the word would repulse him.

“There’s people like Felix, Adrien Agreste, the mayor’s daughter or me in our class, who are well educated and come from the right families. But there are also... less fortunate people. Like Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng for example, who has great influence over your son.”

He flinched at the foreign last name, just as expected. His face had turned sour.

“What are you saying?”

“I say, Felix needs you.”, she catered to his ego. “He has no father figure, no role model. His mother lets him do whatever he wants, not caring about his future or who might take advantage of him. He has an unhealthy amount of freedoms, and just this morning, he fell victim to Hawkmoth!”

Bordeaux’s hands twitched and his eyes widened.

“An akuma was after my heir?! Who was it? I need names!”

“Oh no, he was akumatized himself.”, she informed him smugly. He muttered something about bad publicity, then looked up again.

“What was the reason? His mother? He’s ridiculously devoted to her.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know.”, she lied. “He was alone with Dupain-Cheng when it happened.”

She sighed, then put enough urgency in her voice to make even herself cringe.

“He really needs someone who knows what’s best for him, who can look out for him and will set him limits. He needs you!”

Bordeaux scoffed and paced through his office.

“Do you think I didn’t try to save this family?! Evelyn won’t let me near them anymore, and Felix would rather live like a pauper before going against her.”

Lila smiled.

“I know.”

Her schemes were finally going somewhere.

“But I might have a solution for you.”

When Adrien came to school the next day, he felt numb. There was no Plagg at his side, no ring on his finger, no sense of freedom in his chest as he walked up to the entrance. Everything felt hollow. How could everyone be this carefree when his entire world had been uprooted yesterday? Didn’t they feel the shift in the air, the tension in the room? Chat Noir had vanished, yet nobody seemed to mind.

“Dude, there you are!”, Nino greeted him from a bench at side, surrounded by his classmates. “We were worried sick about you, yesterday! Did you see the Akuma Attack? We were all working with Ladybug, it was so cool!”

Adrien flinched, before stomping over to them.

“Really?”, he asked, trying to suppress his fury. “That sounds awesome! I was busy looking for Chat Noir, in case you wanted to know! So he could get back to protecting Ladybug.”

If Nino noticed how passive-aggressive he sounded, he only shrugged.

“Man, didn’t you hear? It was all over the news last night.”

Adrien frowned in confusion.

“Huh?”

“Yeah!”, Alix chimed in. “Chat Noir is cancelled!”

His blood ran cold. Did they... did they know he had lost his ring?!

“Look at this.”, Alya demanded and showed him her phone, playing a video on the Ladyblog. “Nino filmed this, since I was taken out.”

His eyes widened when he recognized the scenery. It was filmed from under the stairs, but Sentiquill and Ladybug were perfectly clear to see. His Lady held the Akuma in place with her yo-yo, ordering Chat to help. Alya was snorting with anger when the hero refused, leaving Rose at Sentiquill’s mercy.

“Can you believe it?!”, she seethed when the camera panned to Ladybug’s pained face, who apologized for rejecting him before asking for his help again. “He made her beg! He let Rose be drained for ink, just so he could force her into his stupid power play! And her apology?”

She scoffed.

“I can’t believe he would ask that of her! As if she owed him anything for rejecting him!”

“Don’t forget the part where he almost killed Ladybug!”, Chloé spoke up. “If I ever see his ugly ass face again, I won’t need a Miraculous to rip him apart.”

“But,” Adrien stammered, “We don’t know the whole story! Maybe he had a valid reason to-“

Chloé laughed and pinched his cheek.

“Oh, silly Adrikins. I always forget how little experience you have with people.”

Kim nodded.

“Yeah, if you get rejected, no matter how, you gotta accept it. Doesn’t mean you gotta take any shit” - he glared at Chloé, who had the decency to look ashamed - “But you sure have no right to pressure her into anything. And demanding an apology for saying no?”

He clicked his tongue.

“That guy definitely wasn’t present for Mendeleiev‘s lesson on consent.”

“He abandoned Rose.”, Juleka murmured from the background, holding her unusually quiet girlfriend’s hand. “I’ll never forgive him for that.”

Adrien gulped.

“Well, Miraculous Ladybug always undoes every harm, right?”

“Cut it, Adrien!”, Alya snarled at him all of a sudden. Everyone fell silent. The reporter blinked, then leaned back a little to regain control of herself.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”, she mumbled, staring at nothing. “What it felt like. Just because Ladybug can cure everyone doesn’t mean she can undo what happened to us.”

Nino put his arm around her and she relaxed a little. When she looked at Adrien again, she was as composed as always.

“I’ve never been more terrified than yesterday.”, she stated firmly. “And it was even worse for Rose, judging by how much ink Sentiquill got out of her. Chat could have spared her that, but he chose not to. To him, each of us was less important than getting back at Ladybug. Just for not catering to his whims.”

She shook her head.

“If Ladybug doesn’t kick his ass, Rena Rouge will.”

“Uh, I literally said it first.”, Chloé complained. “Tell Fox girl to stand in line, Queen Bee is the one that’s going to kick that mangy cat into orbit!”

As the others broke out in a fight of who would have the best chance to beat up Chat Noir - Sabrina stood eerily still in the corner, saying something about a knife and Chat’s eyes - Adrien slipped out of the yard. It felt like the entire universe was against him! Everything came crashing down around him, no one took his side anymore-

“Adrien?”, a voice behind him asked and he turned around to see Lila. “Are you alright?”

He swallowed down his feelings.

“Yeah”, he croaked. “Just worried. Ladybug told everyone about you, classes are going to be... tense.”

He sighed. He might not be Chat Noir right now, but he was still Adrien Agreste, Bustier’s sunshine boy. He had to keep the peace as far as possible.

“You need to come clean.”, he suggested. “Apologize and tell them the truth about everything, then maybe, this will blow over soon.”

And maybe Marinette would be his friend again. This whole Lila-mess had only harmed them all, it was time to set things right.

Lila nodded.

“Of course, you are so right.”

She smiled weakly.

“I know I never told you this, but you are a great friend. Thank you for protecting me as long as you could. I really wish people would listen to you more, you’re so thoughtful!”

He looked up.

“You think so?”

She nodded, patting his shoulders.

“They can’t see it, but I do.”, she assured him. “You do so much for your friends. You prevent them from harming themselves, from destroying the harmonic atmosphere. They can be grateful to call you their friend.”

He blushed a bit, flattered. And relieved. Finally someone that appreciated all his hard work!

Lila sighed and walked towards the yard.

“I’m really sorry you’ll be dragged into this mess, Adrien.”

He stiffened. Wait, what?

“What do you mean?”

She stopped to look at him, surprised.

“Well, if I tell them the truth about everything, I’ll have to tell them you knew everything from the start. You and I know it was only for their own good that you didn’t expose me, but they... You’ll be pulled into this inevitably. Things will likely be horrible for you for a while, maybe you’ll even lose some friends. Nino, Alya, Chloé... I don’t think they’ll understand you were doing the right thing.”

His mind was running wild. No! He already had them badmouthing Chat Noir in front of him, he wouldn’t be able to bear it if they hated him as Adrien too!

“Lila, wait!”, he called when she moved to walk on. “Maybe... Maybe there’s another way. To keep everyone calm. We can think of something, I’ll help you!”

She smiled.

“You would do that for me? You’re so sweet.”

Her eyes glistened eagerly.

“I think I already have an idea.”

“How are you feeling?”, Felix asked her. They stood in front of the classroom, hesitating to go inside. But Marinette had enough of fearing confrontation. Chat, Adrien, Lila, all of them were people she didn’t want to run from anymore. It was time to walk her way and hope that her friends would have her back. But she was through with waiting for problems to resolve on their own.

“Well enough.”, she replied. “And you?”

He shrugged.

“I don’t remember much of what happened, and I generally don’t care what others think of me. But...”

He sighed.

“I did hurt people. Not consciously, but it still happened because of me.”

Marinette couldn’t say anything against that, so she simply took his hand. Whether for his comfort or her own, she didn’t know.

“Come on.”, she said. “I’m sure they’ll understand, and... It’s not like Lila will be a problem anymore, at least! So let’s get this over with.”

With that, she opened the door and walked inside. Only to see Lila surrounded by their classmates.

“Marinette!”, she called. “Just in time. I was just telling everyone how Ladybug saved me again, yesterday.”

Marinette felt her eyes twitch.

“Ladybug- You- I-“, she pressed out, wanting to throttle her. How was it possible that she just sat here as if nothing happened?! Things were supposed to be different now!

Felix nudged her hand and she looked up to him. He nodded at the rest of the class with his chin, and her eyes followed his gesture. They weren’t hanging on her every word as she had feared. No, Chloé wasn’t even listening, filing her nails with an occasional roll of her eyes. Alya sat next to an angry Nino, arms crossed. Juleka’s eyes were shooting daggers at Lila.

All in all, the class looked suspicious. Not enthralled and excited, but almost annoyed. An improvement!

“Ya better hurry to give us a damn good explanation, girl!”, Alya growled. “Because I have Lb’s statement on video, and I won’t hesitate to post it online!”

Lila gave her a surprised glance.

“What are you talking about? Did I do something wrong?”

Nino glowered at her.

“That’s a damn bold question, Lie-la! Ladybug told us everything.”

His girlfriend raised her phone, playing Ladybug’s fight against Sentiquill.

“But fine!”, Marinette heard her alter ego shout. “If it makes you happy!” Then she started to rant about Lila, who looked suspiciously calm.

“Well”, she shrugged when the sequence was over, “she really went all out, didn’t she?”

“What do you mean?”

Lila chuckled.

“I mean, just look at her face! So disdainful, so authentic! A great actress, really!”

Alya faltered a bit.

“Actress?”

“Of course!”, she laughed. “Ladybug was obviously trying to placate Sentiquill, as we all know Felix doesn’t like me since our little misunderstanding. A bummer it didn’t work, but I guess she isn’t perfect either.”

She sighed and straightened herself.

“Ladybug told me to flee, since the Akuma was after me specifically. I would have stayed with you otherwise, and helped to defend you against Sentiquill. But she knew if I was nearby, he’d go after me and then Ladybug would be distracted. She cares so much about me, her worry for my wellbeing would have interfered with her ability to think straight.”

Alya frowned.

“How do we know this isn’t another lie? It’s your word against Ladybug’s, and you haven’t proven anything!”

Pondering, Lila tapped her finger against her chin.

“Hm, let’s see... Adrien! You saw us; you can be my witness, right?”

Everybody turned around and Marinette’s eyes widened. Adrien stood at the window, looking weary but determined. Surely he wouldn’t... He had covered for Lila before, true, but to lie on her behalf...

Her hopes sunk when he avoided eye contact with her.

“It’s true.”, he stated flatly. “I saw them talk after the battle. Ladybug...” He gulped. “Ladybug apologized for saying all these things, but it was only to protect her.”

“That’s not true!”, Marinette howled furiously. “What are you even saying, Adrien?!”

He looked away, pouting.

“Stop shouting at me. It’s the truth! I saw them when I was on my way... on my way-“

“-to accompany me to Jagged Stone!”, Lila finished for him, a smug look on her face. “I invited him along because he was so rattled after the akuma attack. To cheer him up! Jagged is the best when it comes to lighten the mood, right, Adrien?”

“Uh... yeah!”, the blond agreed hesitantly, obviously confused. “Totally! I, er, can confirm.”

Marinette’s eyes burned into his spineless figure, seething with rage. This had been his chance. For someone that preferred inactivity when it came to his friends, he was all too quick to stand up for a liar.

“So... it was all true?”, Alya dared to hope. “You really are Ladybug’s friend, and you know Jagged Stone?”

“Don’t forget Prince Ali, but yes. I’d never lie to you, Alya!”, Lila reassured. “Everything I said is true.”

Felix took a step forward, opening his mouth to protest, but Marinette put her hand on his chest to stop him.

“Don’t.”, she whispered, forcibly cooling down her anger to a simmering hatred. “They win this round.”

Everything Felix could say now would only further Lila’s victim role, and they had no proof right now. It would be a waste of time.

Felix clenched his teeth, but nodded. To their surprise, the others weren’t done yet.

“I don’t believe you.”, Juleka mumbled and Lila’s face fell.

“What did you just say?”

“I said, I don’t believe you!”, the goth shouted, startling everyone. Rose was clutching her hand like a lifeline as her girlfriend looked up, tears in her eyes. “When Sentiquill went after Rose, Ladybug didn’t hesitate to do the logical thing and save me first, even if that meant making herself vulnerable. I know she cares about Rose, but when push came to shove, she was still able to think tactical. God knows I didn’t like her decision, but it was what saved both of us.”

Lila narrowed her eyes.

“Juleka, you sound like you wanted her to sacrifice Rose! Do you really care so little about-“

“Shut up!”, Rose cried out. Marinette wasn’t sure she had ever seen her this upset. “That’s not what she meant, and you know it!”

“Are you two calling me a liar?”

Juleka shot her a glare.

“I’m saying that I trust Ladybug. She’s able to do her job, no matter the circumstances and who might be at stake. She cares about all of us and doesn’t play favorites. If your word’s against hers, we know where we’ll stand.”

She nudged Rose, who nodded. Together they walked towards the door, but stopped when they passed Marinette and Felix.

“I don’t blame you for anything.”, Rose murmured to him so that only they could hear it. “I know what it feels like to be controlled like that. To be forced to hurt people you care about. We’re all used to it by now, you’re not alone.”

Then they walked out.

The class only recovered slowly. Many regarded Lila with distrust, most were unsure. Even Alya, who was only too desperate to believe Lila, had her doubts.

Felix gave her an encouraging smile.

“Looks like things are in motion.”

Marinette nodded, tearing her gaze from Adrien.

“I think it’s time to move on as well.”, she confessed. “To leave old burdens behind.”

She thought of Chat Noir.

“To make a clear cut.”

Marinette was busy this afternoon.

Doing homework.

Changing her computer’s background.

Putting the finishing touch on the cravat she designed for Felix.

Feeding Tikki a macaron she’d made for Adrien.

Preparing an outline for her report.

Ripping Adrien’s pictures off her wall.

Playing video games with her parents.

Taking the chest with her gifts for Adrien to Prince Ali’s charity for sick children.

Calling Felix.

Clearing her calendar of Adrien’s appointments.

Crying a bit.

Calling Felix again.

Feeling better.

When it was evening, she finally ran out of things to do. And that meant, she had nothing to distract her from her own thoughts. That wouldn’t do.

“I’m going out for a walk!”, she told her parents as she bounced down the stairs, nearly tripping over her own feet.

“Be careful!”, her mother replied and waved. “And be back before dinner!”

“Don’t you want to take something to eat with you? Or a jacket? Or-“

“Tom.”

“Oh, right. Uh, have fun!”

Marinette chuckled at her parents difference. She’d always wanted to be in a relationship like theirs: one of mutual respect, but with room for silliness and fun. To have someone that was so different from her, but shared enough of her passions and values to match. A partnership of equals, that wouldn’t waver or fade when things got difficult. Someone who inspired her to grow. Someone who wasn’t afraid to learn from her as well.

She had thought that was Adrien. Part of her might even have considered Chat Noir - the yin yang symbolic hadn’t gone unnoticed by her. But her mother had explained her for what the Taijitu truly stood: not an eternal battle of opposites, but the harmonic completion of two contrasts, the ever changing nature of the world. Chat Noir wasn’t someone who completed her, and neither was Adrien. They had only brought her misery when they should have supported her.

She sighed as she walked through the park, the half moon rising above her. Black and white.

Her mother had often used the Taiji symbol to comfort her when she’d had one of her streaks of bad luck. It’s natural to have a hard time once in a while, she’d said. But see? The darkness recedes eventually and makes room for the light. It’s a circuit, and soon things will get better for you as well. Until then? Just search for the tiny white dot. The beacon in the darkness, it’s there!

Marinette leaned her head back, watching the darkening sky.

The light in her darkness? That was Felix. The only constant support she had these days. The one whose mere presence cheered her up, gave her the strength to keep going. It was so weird, now that she thought about it. He was so... harsh. Like a bright fire that could blind and burn mercilessly, but somehow drew her in like a moth to his flame. Like the sun, that could bring people’s worst flaws to daylight, or illuminate strengths she hadn’t even known she had. He had been both demanding and eager to give, from the very beginning. Forcing her to put her self-imposed limits aside and stand up for herself, but supporting her when he knew she needed it. In return, he had opened himself to her, learned to trust and bond with others. She’d never been more proud than when he had befriended Aurore, despite their rocky start. Or when he tried to dial his bluntness down around Marc, because he knew the boy was sensitive.

He had impressed her. Everything about him was challenging and inspiring and soothing at once. She’d never liked herself more than when she was around him. And when she wasn’t, she found herself thinking about him constantly.

Even now, musing over their influence on each other brought a smile to her lips and lightened her steps until she all but floated through the park. Now that she thought about it, she liked the feeling a lot. More than a lot. If she didn’t know any better, she’d almost say she lo-

“Marinette”, Tikki called her from her purse. “I sense someone. Wayzz is nearby!”

She looked up, searching the park for the familiar hawaiian shirt. Indeed, it was the guardian himself that stood in front of the fountain, hands clasped in front of him. Curious, she walked up beside him.

“Good evening, Master Fu!”, she greeted. “Haven’t seen you in a while. How’s the stomach?”

The elder man gave her a sullen side glance.

“I thought we had agreed to never talk of that again.”

She chuckled and followed his gaze to the fountain.

“Did we? I don’t recall!”

He didn’t smile, but his wrinkled forehead relaxed a bit. Weird. Usually, he was a lot more eager to joke around, given he had so little company to do that with.

“Is something the matter? You look upset.”

Fu sighed.

“Sharp as always. I am concerned for you, for Ladybug’s safety.”

Her face grew serious.

“That’s a concern I can understand.”, she muttered. “I nearly died yesterday. It was that close!”

Fu nodded.

“I saw.”

“Then why didn’t you do anything?”, she snapped, forgetting herself. “I needed help, and you could have given that to me!”

Her master lowered his head, eyes fixed on the water.

“Because I am weak.”, he admitted. “And a coward. And not the guardian you deserve.”

He looked so old when he rubbed his forehead, almost ancient.

“In my defense, if I had known the situation was this terrible, I would have taken the miracle box with me. Or at least the Turtle, Fox or Bee. Alas, I was only aware of Chat Noir’s miraculous turning dark, and thought that we would be enough to handle him. I didn’t expect the akuma.”

“Wait...”, she slowed him down. “Chat’s Miraculous was abused? Like... Like the butterfly is?”

Fu didn’t answer. Instead, he raised his hand to reveal what he held inside. A black ring, complete with a familiar green paw print.

“His miraculous!”, she whispered in awe, then turned towards the guardian. “What did you do?! When did you do that?”

“Immediately after you purified Sentiquill’s akuma.”, he stated wearily. “And that was already far too late. I should have taken it after Syren, Frozer maybe. I hope you can forgive me for that.”

She felt a pang in her chest that she had lost her partner of almost a year, but it was overshadowed by an euphoric sense of relieve. She hadn’t noticed how much Chat had troubled her until she didn’t have to worry about him anymore. No more fear to hurt his feelings, no more dancing around the truth to avoid upsetting him. No more tantrums and reckless sacrifices. No more pressure to feel something she just... didn’t.

“I want you to have it.”, Fu continued and raised his hands when she wanted to protest. “Not for yourself, of course! Marinette, I have chosen solitude as the safest way to protect the miraculous, and for a while, it worked. But times changed.”

He breathed out, his posture slouching in shame.

“Times changed, and I didn’t. Chat Noir is the proof that I am no longer fit to distribute powers like his. But you? You have proven time and again that your trust in others is well deserved, that your choices are wise.”

His voice was full of warmth and trust.

“You have to be the one to choose a new partner, Ladybug.”, he announced firmly. “Someone you can trust not to disappoint you. It’s about time you get a say in this, don’t you think?”

She stared at the ring, so caught up in an electrifying kind of awe that she couldn’t really process his words. This was the Miraculous of destruction, the other half to her powers. If she took it, she would hold more power in her hands than should be humanly possible. What if something happened to her? What if she lost it, what if Hawkmoth got his hands on it? As long as it had no wielder, it would remain in this state and show its true colors. Everyone would be able to recognize it!

“A-are you sure you want me to have this?”, she asked with a trembling voice. Master Fu smiled.

“I have made a lot of reckless decisions. This is not one of them.”

He held the ring out to her.

“I trust you, Marinette. And I know Ladybug will chose better than I did.”

Hesitantly, carefully as if it might burn her, she took the Miraculous from his hands. It was warm in her hands, as if it were alive.

“I won’t disappoint you.”, she promised Fu, her eyes blazing with determination. She wouldn’t take this lightly, wouldn’t fail him. This time, her Chat Noir would be a hero.

- - -

Phew, done. I don't know much about Daoism, and only just started to research the philosophy behind yin and yang (or the Taijitu), but I really wanted Marinette to be more in touch with her heritage. Mama Cheng spilled her wisdom, and little Marinette sucked it up like a sponge.

#miramu writes #welcome to the back #wttb #felinette fanfic #felinette #miraculous ladybug #mlb #ml felix

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makeste · 5 years ago

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BnHA Chapter 253: That Good Angst

Previously on BnHA: The villain Ending, whose name in retrospect is hella melodramatic for a guy whose power is MAKING ROAD MARKINGS COME TO LIFE, kidnapped Natsuo and then deservedly got his ass kicked by three teenagers. Endeavor won the manga’s coveted Best Hug award, made up by me just now, and then gave one of the best monologues in the whole series, basically owning up to all his crimes and saying he doesn’t want or deserve his son’s forgiveness. And he didn’t get it either, which was excellent. Instead, he announced to his kids that he was building them a new home for them to go live in with their mother and without him. Meanwhile Katsuki was all, “btw I’ve decided on my new hero name,” and the ENTIRE FANDOM was all “!!!!” until he went on to say, “but I ain’t revealing SHIT until I’ve told it to Best Jeanist,” which caused everyone to collectively wince and awkwardly glance at each other wondering who’s going to break it to him. Uh.

Today on BnHA: hAHAHAHAHHA.

Sorry, I forgot to turn my capslock back off. Anyways, so we return to U.A. and everything is all “HAPPY NEW YEAR IIDA!” and “STILL ON ABOUT THAT UNREQUITED LOVE THING, HUH OCHAKO?” and “LOOKS LIKE THAT SCAMPISH IMP BAKUGOU IS AT IT AGAIN!” and all the usual stuff. We then have a complete switch of gears, and I seriously mean like the GEAR SWITCH TO END ALL GEAR SWITCHES, as we cut to Aizawa and Mic driving to Tartarus! Why are they driving to Tartarus you ask? Well it’s because they got a call from Naomasa and he was all “hey, so you know your deceased childhood friend from chapters 59 through 65 of Vigilantes? Well IT TURNS OUT I HAVE A FUNNY STORY ABOUT THAT.” Anyway so the rest of this chapter can basically be summed up as (1) LOL SO KUROGIRI WAS REALLY SHIRAKUMO ALL ALONG, and (2) AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

btw the whole reason I spoiled myself in the first place was because my dumbass id was all “WE SHOULD CHECK IF THEY MENTION THE HERO NAME” and I was like “YES” and just immediately lost all self-control. like it wasn’t an accidental click or anything; I was fully aware of what I was doing. lord knows what I would have done if I actually had been spoiled about the hero name lol. that would have been so much worse than the spoiler I actually got, so yeah. just stupid decisions all around. anyways how are you

no BnHA thumbnails on the Mangastream homepage today. must mean Kacchan didn’t make any good faces. ah well

lmao the chapter is literally titled “Shirakumo.” well I guess I wasn’t spoiled much after all. I did catch a half-glimpse (I was trying not to look; like, I had my fingers covering my eyes and was peeking through them. again, I’m not really sure what I was trying to accomplish in the first place honestly) of what seemed to be Aizawa with a shocked expression on his face though, so that’s why I was so convinced Kumo was somehow coming back from the dead or something. WE SHALL SEE

MY FORMULA 1 SON!!

lol I’m having one of those Berenstein moments. like. he didn’t always have those huge exhaust pipes running out from his sides and from either leg, right? those are just for this cover. or else something new and fancy he just added to his suit. right??

anyway so yes, Iida is the color page this week, just as we all expected from a chapter titled “Shirakumo”

“WINTER BREAK WAS OVER IN A FLASH” oh man. ain’t that always the way

wow I’ve really missed U.A. like, we’re cutting to these panels of USJ and the stadium, and it’s so fucking nostalgic geez. we weren’t even gone that long

Deku’s voiceover is talking about how they only have three months left in their “tumultuous” first year. ha. tumultuous. if Deku hadn’t met up with All Might, he could have easily fallen back on a career in PR; he’s got a gift for phrasing things diplomatically

Iida is wishing everyone a happy new year! happy new year Iida!!

he’s announcing that their class will be an action report meeting, which apparently means everyone’s gonna share what they learned over the winter break

but now he’s telling everyone to come down to Field Alpha, which Mangastream annoyingly spelled out with the Greek symbol α, forcing me to look it up because I’m sorry but I don’t speak math. ?? like what is this

now Aizawa’s sliding the door open all CRANKY because he’s MISSING HIS NAP

but Mina is all smooth like,

Mina could also have had a promising future in PR. well it’ll still serve them well in their hero careers too

oh my lord

WHAT is that FACE, Iida. just what. is that an eyebrow waggle. what the fuck. he looks like the next words out of his mouth were going to be “sliding into people’s dms”

jokes’s on you Horikoshi!! you think a panel like this will stop my “stupid sexy Iida” jokes? IT ONLY MAKES ME LOVE HIM MORE

oh? someone on the loudspeaker is calling Aizawa and summoning him to the faculty room. I wonder what this could be about. probably nothing!

now we’re cutting to the changing room and the girls are admiring Ochako’s new costume!

I’ll add an ETA later where I actually analyze the changes in her costume. right now let’s just pretend like I’m aware of what actually changed. I swear I pay attention to things. by the way, why would the suitcase get heavy? her quirk can be applied to anything can’t it?

(ETA: so the costume changes are (1) an upgrade to her gauntlets, and (2) an upgrade to her headset. so anyway that’s pretty cool, even if it was really only brought up in this chapter so that we could get that SWEET YA ROMANCE DRAMA. which I know annoys some people, but at this point I feel like Horikoshi only throws it in because he’s expected to, and the way he does it is so adorably reluctant that I can’t help but enjoy it at this point lol.)

OH MY GOD

OCHAKO YOU KEPT DEKU’S CHRISTMAS PRESENT TO YOU IN YOUR HERO COSTUME FOR GOOD LUCK, OH MY GOD. (1) YOU ARE THE LITERAL CUTEST, (2) IT’S TIMES LIKE THIS I’M GLAD I SHIP BASICALLY EVERYTHING BECAUSE THIS IS A DELIGHT, and (3) MINA’S REACTION TO THIS IS ABOUT TO BE MY FAVORITE THING OF ALL TIME, SO LET’S COUNT DOWN TO IT IN 3... 2...

okay but before we click to the next page, I just need to draw everyone’s attention to the background of that Jirou panel, where I’m pretty sure that is Ochako acquiring Hagakure’s quirk in a moment of transcendent desperation, much like how parents are able to summon incredible strength in times of crisis to lift cars off of their trapped children and shit. we are witnessing the next stage of human evolution over here

-- oh fuck me

hello, Horikoshi? yes, this was supposed to be a cute moment of teens being teens and giggling over high school crushes. did you not get the memo. what are you doing here with this sucker punch of feels right to my fucking kidneys. why would you do that. why does this panel of Ochako make me want to fucking cry, I did not ask for this

(ETA: but like also, you see how he just instantly drops the subject less than a panel later lol. like “THERE’S YOUR ROMANCE PLOT, OKAY?? NOW BACK TO THE REANIMATED BRAINWASHED CHILDHOOD FRIENDS ARC.”)

meanwhile in the boy’s locker room! so apparently word has spread about Deku mastering Bloopwhip!

so Ojiro is evidently fucking ripped under that karate gi. Ojiro, this one corner of a panel with you facing away from the screen is possibly the most interesting thing you’ve ever done. have you considered what a costume change might do for your image. I’m just saying

lmao Deku

I have never in my life found the idea of Villain Deku even remotely convincing until this exact moment. jesus christ. Deku are you sure there isn’t a little piece of AFO horcrux soul in you right at this moment. just wondering. if it was Kaminari doing this, the headline for this chapter would be “KAMINARI 100% CONFIRMED THE TRAITOR” and even I would find myself hard-pressed to argue at this point

anyway, the hero we deserve is stepping in to bring him back to reality sob

(ETA: I’m not even going to check the bnha tag to see if there is discourse about this, because I already know!! because clearly this is a very serious panel which should be taken 100% seriously!! anyway I’m not even going to go here lol.)

it’s okay kids I’m already dialing 911. Kacchan, honey, come here. listen, we need to put you in a time out. I love you but you can’t just go around throwing your spiky headgear at people like a fucking tomahawk, and also what the fuck is that thing even made of jesus christ

sob is Deku actually fucking dead

and so, while the girls were having cute shoujo drama about a romantic All Might plush, over in the boy’s locker room an actual murder was going down

FSDKDJL

I can’t. stop laughing. I

and the way they’re all just staring at him and clearly have no idea what to fucking do at this point. “so should we just... leave it in, then?” lmao Horikoshi what the fuck kind of substance did you ingest before you went and drew this. I need me some of that

(ETA: and now that I’ve mostly stopped laughing, I would also just like to point out that he is essentially saying “I just had to stop thinking so hard about it and just do it”, which I’ve only been saying SINCE FOREVER, DEKU, but sure go ahead and don’t listen to me then!)

ALL MIGHT IS...

WHY, YOU ASK? WHO CARES!!

lol apparently it’s a pun. someone go over there and check to make sure this All Might isn’t actually a bunch of Mirios hidden underneath a trench coat

anyway so they’re completely unimpressed, because they’re all jaded fucking teenagers with no souls, and they’re asking where Aizawa is

is this the part where we slide right back into the angst after our brief humorous interlude with the kiddos. because I am ready. bring it

OOOOH HERE WE GO, LOOK AT THIS TENSION

SO HERE WE HAVE MIC ACTUALLY TELLING AIZAWA TO SHUT THE FUCK UP, AND IT’S CONFIRMED, THE WORLD IS ENDING

and look at Aizawa’s body language. arms crossed, fingers tapping anxiously, gritting his teeth. fucking Mic has to tell him to calm down. jesus christ. anyway so Aizawa angst is apparently MY DRUG you guys, and Horikoshi you can go right ahead and INJECT THAT SHIT STRAIGHT INTO MY VEINS

AHHHHHHH

OHHHHHH THAT’S GOOD. I might need someone to come and slap me in the face in another minute just to make sure I can continue here

-- HOLD UP, WHAT

THAT SOUND YOU HEAR IS THE SOUND OF MY MENTAL BRAKES SCREECHING TO A FUCKING HALT, EVERYONE HOLD THE FUCK UP WHILE I DO A QUICK MENTAL ROLL CALL OF THE VILLAIN CAST AT USJ. FUCK ME, PLEASE TELL ME HE WASN’T THE NOUMU. BUT ASIDE FROM HIM AND TOMURA, AND THE FACELESS NO-NAME VILLAINS, THAT ONLY LEAVES... OKAY MY BRAIN JUST SERIOUSLY FROZE UP WHILE PROCESSING THIS, BECAUSE NO FUCKING WAY

fuck me fuck me FUCK ME

there is no fucking way it can really be Kurogiri, can it?? Kumo didn’t have a portal quirk. but All For One, though?? but no wait because we know he didn’t have that quirk because he had to use the other teleportation one instead. John’s or whoever’s

so then the only other option is the Noumu. could this be the start of the Noumu arc at long last?! oh my godddddd I’m about to get up out of my seat and just jump around for a second to get all my nerves out. ahhhhhhh

Horikoshi knew full well what he was doing titling the chapter “Shirakumo” and then teasing us with this incredibly tense buildup, too. I have actual fucking chills

oh my god IT REALLY IS THE NOUMU ISN’T IT

I HATE AND LOVE EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS SIMULTANEOUSLY, IT IS THE WEIRDEST FEELING. IT’S BOTH INVIGORATING AND TERRIFYING HOLY SHIT

I WANTED THIS. I KNEW IT WAS GONNA BE DARK. I WANTED IT SO BAD AND I COULDN’T WAIT FOR IT AND NOW IT’S FINALLY HAPPENING AND WHAT A FUCKING WAY TO KICK IT OFF I JUST!!!

AHHHHH

DON’T MIND ME PLEASE CONTINUE AND IGNORE ALL OF MY SILENT SCREAMING!!!!

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

AIZAWA IS ABOUT TO LOSE HIS FUCKING MIND. HIS CLOSEST FRIEND WAS DESECRATED AND VIOLATED IN AN UNIMAGINABLE WAY AND TRANSFORMED INTO SOMETHING UNRECOGNIZABLE WITH ALL TRACES OF HUMANITY LOST, AND THIS WHOLE TIME HE THOUGHT HE WAS FUCKING DEAD. THEY DON’T EVEN HAVE A THERAPY FOR THAT, PEOPLE. THAT IS THE KIND OF ANGST THERE’S NO COMING BACK FROM

ANYWAY, SO THERE’S THAT SHOCKED AIZAWA FACE I CAUGHT A GLIMPSE OF YESTERDAY, NOW WITH HORRIFIC CONTEXT, AND IF ANYONE NEEDS ME I’LL JUST BE HERE IN THE CORNER SETTING MY KEYBOARD TO PERMANENT CAPSLOCK, AND UPDATING MY SEXUAL ORIENTATION TO “THE FUCKED-UP AIZAWA ANGST IN THIS CHAPTER” BECAUSE THAT’S APPARENTLY WHAT IT IS AND ALL THIS TIME I NEVER KNEW

OH GODDDDD

BRB UPDATING MY ORIENTATION AGAIN TO “MIC’S COMFORTING HAND ON AIZAWA’S SHOULDER AS AIZAWA STRUGGLES TO HOLD ON TO THE LAST OF HIS COMPOSURE WHILE TRYING AND FAILING TO PROCESS THIS UNFATHOMABLY HEINOUS THING THAT’S ABOUT TO BE REVEALED”

(ETA: and also!! the fact that either Mic’s hand is shaking, or Aizawa is shaking so badly that it’s affecting Mic’s hand on his shoulder too! either way how the hell am I not literally dead after reading this chapter, I don’t even know.)

WAIT WHAT!!!!

THE CORE?! SO WAIT, IS IT KUROGIRI THEN??? OR WHAT?!

(ETA: I know I’m just inserting random commentary all over the place at this point, but like, can we also talk about how Naomasa looks like he hasn’t slept in eleven years?? this is taking such a toll on his soul here and it’s heartbreaking.)

OH MY GOD!!!!!

I WISH I COULD BETTER DESCRIBE THIS FEELING BECAUSE IT’S REALLY SOMETHING!! I’M SO EXCITED AND AT THE SAME TIME FULLY AWARE OF HOW I’M DELIGHTING IN THE PAIN OF THESE FICTIONAL CHARACTERS, SO IT’S LIKE THIS GUILTY SADISTIC GLEE AND AT THE SAME TIME SHOCK AND EXCITEMENT AND DAMN NEAR A KIND OF ELATION AT BEING FULLY TAKEN FOR A RIDE BY THIS EPIC FUCKING TWIST. IT’S GOOD SHIT

SDLKFJASLKDFJ;LKS

(ETA: so if they can trace quirk factors like this, they should be able to do it with the other Noumu they have in captivity, and also with any dead Noumus they’ve collected as well, yes? including the one that Stain killed a few months back? like, don’t mind me, I’m just sitting here trying to calculate the Six Degrees of Bakuangst for this plotline seeing as my brain, as ever, is focused on one thing and one thing only.

and so if they have managed to ID some of the Noumus, would that info maybe be on the Hero Network? meaning Endeavor would have access? would the interns then have access too? or if not, is his password something easily guessable, like Shouto’s birthday or something? will I ever stop running out of hypothetical scenarios along these lines? doesn’t seem likely as of now.)

“SEVERAL DIFFERENT QUIRK FACTORS” HOLY SHIT, AFO. THAT MANIAC. THIS WHOLE TIME MY RESPECTED DOCTOR OF MEDICINE WAS REALLY A HIGH SCHOOL DROPOUT WHO GOT CONKED ON THE HEAD BY SOME FALLING ROCKS ONE DAY. THE GRANDDADDY OF ALL TWISTS!! THIS TWIST WAS CONCEIVED IN THE BOOK OF GENESIS!!

AND BY THE WAY, THANK YOU AGAIN TO THAT ANON, BECAUSE HOLY SHIT THE EMOTIONAL IMPACT IS FUCKING RAW. ONCE I FINALLY COME DOWN FROM THIS BIZARRE HIGH I’M GOING TO CRY FOR AIZAWA BECAUSE HE IS HURTING SO BAD RIGHT NOW AND I CAN’T EVEN, SOMEONE SAVE HIMMMM

WELL FOLKS. THERE IT IS. HORIKOSHI FINALLY HOOKING US UP WITH THAT GOOD ANGST. THE PLOT THAT WAS PROMISED. THE ANGST THAT WAS AVOWED. YOU GUYS I CAN’T BELIEVE AIZAWA SHOUTA WAS SHIGARAKI TOMURA’S FUCKING UNCLE THIS WHOLE FUCKING TIME. HOLY SHIT

AND YOOOO I JUST HAD A BUNCH OF THOUGHTS THAT I CAN BARELY EVEN PROCESS RIGHT NOW BECAUSE THIS REVELATION OPENS UP SO MANY NEW DOORS NOW ALL OF A SUDDEN THOUGH. BUT LIKE, IF AFO AND UJIKO WERE IN THE BUSINESS OF TAKING CHILDREN’S CORPSES AND REVIVING THEM AND INFUSING THEM WITH UPGRADED QUIRKS AND NO MEMORIES OF THEIR PRIOR LIVES, THEN HOLY FUCKING SHIT, WHAT IF A CERTAIN TODOROKI SIBLING REALLY DID FUCKING DIE AND HAS ACTUALLY BEEN A PUPPET OF AFO’S THIS ENTIRE TIME OH MY GOD. THIS CHAPTER IS JUST!!!

(ETA: yeah I actually have a lot of thinking to do about this one, because holy shit. I mean there must be a reason we’re getting this reveal directly on the heels of the Todoangst Arc with all of its talk about Touya and how dead he is, right? god I’m still trying to wrap my head around it all. this stupid manga!!)

AND AIZAWA’S FACE. THE WAY HE’S COVERING HIS MOUTH AS THOUGH TRYING TO KEEP HIMSELF FROM BEING SICK. THE MAN WHO PRIDES HIMSELF ON HIS RATIONALITY IS SO COMPLETELY OVERWHELMED BY EMOTION THAT HE’S STRUGGLING TO KEEP IT TOGETHER. THIS IS THE DEFINING WOUND OF HIS CHILDHOOD, RETURNING ALL OF A SUDDEN TO STAB HIM RIGHT IN THE HEART ALL OVER AGAIN WITH A FRESH NEW KIND OF HORROR. MIC, YOU’D BETTER BE THERE FOR HIM AFTER THIS, BECAUSE HE’S GOING TO FUCKING BREAK DOWN IN THE CAR ON THE RIDE HOME OR SOMETHING PROBABLY, AND HE NEEDS YOU, AND YOU PROBABLY NEED HIM TOO, AND FUCK

I DON’T HAVE SPACE FOR ALL THIS ANGST IN MY HOUSE!!! BUT LIKE HELL AM I GIVING ANY OF IT BACK, IT’S MINE NOW AND I’M KEEPING IT!! I WILL FUCKING RENT OUT A STORAGE LOCKER FOR THE EXCESS!! I WILL HOARD IT ALL LIKE A GREEDY DRAGON IN MY CAVE. THIS ANGST IS MY CHILD NOW. FUCKING SUBSCRIBED, GOOD NIGHT EVERYONE

#bnha 253 #aizawa shouta #yamada hizashi #shirakumo oboro #kurogiri #uraraka ochako #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #makeste reads bnha #and here's another thought I just had #which is that we were basically one momo away from potentially playing out this exact same plot twist #but with deku and kacchan instead #because the league would not have taken no for an answer #and even if tomura had felt like being merciful #(since he clearly has more humanity left in him than I formerly gave him credit for)#I guarantee you that afo would have stepped in at some point and been all #'you know what tomura why don't you let me see if I can help convince him'#like every now and then I just randomly think about how close my child came to experiencing an unimaginably dark fate #and I'm just like #deep sigh of relief #but oh the angst #this is the fuel that sustains me friends

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thewriterwithnoplan · 5 years ago

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Dirty and Useless (Part 6)

Summary: Jason Todd had always said there were only two types of cop; Dirty and Useless. So when Y/N comes along with a spunky partner and a laughable code name it’s safe to say they don’t exactly see eye to eye. But if they’ve got anything in common it’s their secrets. Both are hiding behind masks whether they know it or not. Will the Robin get the Nightingale to come out of the shadows? Pairing: Titans!Jason Todd x Reader Word Count: 1707 Warnings: None.

Jason stared up into E/C eyes and swore that he would never see a sight as glorious as this. A beautiful H/C leaning above him, two unconscious henchmen somewhere behind them and-

Beep.

A still-active bomb apparently.

The woman sighed, running a hand across Jason's chest plate. For a split second, he was confused, then the R popped out and was flying through the air a moment later. It struck the bomb, cutting through several wires. The explosives gave one last beep and then the screen that read 00:02 spluttered to a stop. It was all far too close for the boys liking and exciting all the same.

"You called, bird boy?" The girl quipped.

Jason couldn't hide the grin that dominated his face if he tried, "Didn't think you'd answer, Nightingale."

"Fun fact; Male nightingales sing during the night to attract the female's attention," Y/N peered into the boy's eyes, tilting her head slightly, "Guess you sung loud enough Boy Blunder."

"I guess that's the charm of the Robin," He shrugged carelessly before looking down and finally allowing his shit-eating grin to fall into a frown, "You mind getting the chains off?"

Y/N made a good show of considering it before leaning down to whisper across the shell of his ear, "I think you should keep them on."

Jason froze completely under the woman's weight and he finally just how close she was. He could almost count the dents on the weaponised emblem embedded into her chest plate. It was a Nightingale midflight and would have been invisible against the dark shades of her outfit had the black emblem not been edged by red and bleeding gold. The swift contrasts between the abyss like black, the blood-red and glittering gold summed her up quite nicely. Or at least Jason had heard as much.

"Robin," The deep voice of Batman interrupted his gazing as the older man thrashed in his own chains. Either to look at Jason or to find some way to loosen the restraints, "Status report. I can't see, what's going on over there?"

Jason felt the moment her body stiffened but didn't anticipate the chains falling away when she moved to her feet. It was only then that the boy wonder realised that she had moved one arm from beside his head to pick the lock binding the thick metal around him. It didn't surprise him however when the girl made no move to help Batman, so he set about doing it himself.

"I called in a friend, I wasn't sure she'd come but-" He glanced over his shoulder as she pulled the R from the tangled wires that had been a bomb. "Wait. How did you know how to do that?"

"Disarming the bomb or the perfect shot thing?" She moved behind him, even as he continued to pick the lock around Batman. Y/N slipped her arms around his back and pressed the R back into place. It was a strange move but Jason had no doubt with this girl that it had been purposeful and calculated. He wondered what had changed with the girl that she had become so friendly with him.

Jason had to pointedly clear his throat and avoid eye contact with his mentor as he answered, "All of it. Usually takes us a while and even then we're paying attention. You just threw it."

"Would you be upset if I said luck?" He gapped at her, "Kidding! I've been disarming the Joker's bombs since before I could walk and the aim thing is just a lot of practice."

"Robin, who is this?" The caped crusader asked a dangerous edge to his tone as he examined the girl.

Y/N to her credit didn't flinch under the famous BatGlare™ but that was probably because her steely gaze was eerily similar. It was a Wayne thing then. With a dismissing roll of E/C eyes, Y/N clapped her hands together twice. For a moment the men were utterly confused at the girl's strange actions and then her suit started melting off of her.

It took only a moment for her to be left in dark blue jeans and a black leather jacket. Black riding gloves - that the rest of her suit had melted into - and her elegant mask were all that was left of the Nightingale. Though with a swipe of her hand, like she was wiping sweat from her forehead, her mask melted too. The feather from behind her ear joined the mask leaving only Y/N, her Nightingale gloves and a red-black ear cuff.

"It's a new suit design," Y/N answered the unasked question. "Nanotechnology mixed with Dyneema SB61 plastic - stronger than Zylon fibres and lighter too - as well as a small spell from a Lord of Order and maybe a tiny bit of stolen alien tech."

"That's illegal you kno-"

"Can I have one t-"

The dynamic duo slowly turned to face each other. While Batman painted the perfect portrait of annoyance, Jason wore an indignant look as if to ask; Why can't my suit be that cool? A silent argument passed between the two as both vigilantes fought to get their way. Inevitably Jason heaved a deep sigh and sent Y/N a look that might have been a mock expression of his mentors.

"Thank you for coming all this way and helping us," The Dark Knight gave her a tight smile. "But we have it from here Miss..."

A shrill ring interrupted them. Y/N turned away from the two famous Gotham icons, a finger raised in a 'one-minute' motion. A startled look flashed across the older man's face as he watched the girl ignore him. Y/N pressed the phone to her ear without a second glance at the caller ID.

"Agent Wayne," She peered out of the large familiar window over her home. "Please place your threat, compliment or request."

A tired voice rumbled back through the receiver, "Snarky as always Y/N."

"Melisa," Y/N rolled her eyes, "The hell are you doing up? It's like, the middle of the night."

"Speak for yourself."

"Touché," She admitted, glancing over her shoulder at the clock on the opposite wall, 1:14. "Still, if you of all people are awake it's gotta be something bad. So lay it on me, Sparrow."

"We have a new mission," Melisa spoke slowly, deliberately, something unusual for the spunky girl who had once held a goldfish in her mouth on a dare. "It's a bounty hunter job, they're offering a lot of money for it. Like money, you would kill for."

Jason watched over the girl's shoulder as a grin bloomed across her reflection's face. It was the sort of smile that villans gave when they knew something that the hero didn't. Excited and hungry and deadly. But then the faint indistinguishable voice on the other end of the call said something and that smirk shattered.

"Are you sure?" Y/N blinked several times, wondering if she'd heard right.

Melisa gave a sharp inhale of breath, "That's what they said."

Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose in deep thought. Before turning on her heel and marching to the computer perched on the beautifully carved desk. The Sparrow placed her phone down, pressing the speaker icon. She spun herself into the plush chair and began typing. Password. The girl didn't bat an eye as she punched in the access code. Jason didn't really follow what she did from there but it looked complicated, to say the least.

When Y/N finally stopped clacking away at the crisp keyboard she turned to the phone. It had been silent the whole time as if not wanting to interrupt her. Jason wondered if the Sparrow on the other end of the phone - probably still in Star City - knew what Y/N did at night. What she had done for most of her life. Had Y/N told her some excuse or that she was off to save his ass?

Y/N's finger tapped along the Enter key but didn't press any harder, "Look, Mel. We have two options in this, we find the bounty or, I can wipe all information from the FBI database and we never speak of it again."

"It's not my choice," Melisa exhaled slowly, "You're the one that knows them. Do what you have to, I'm with you no matter what. Just ask yourself; What's right for you?"

"I don't know," She groaned, fingers hovering over that Enter button. "Tell me not to do it. Tell me we need the money or that he deserves it."

"Does he?"

Jason held his breath as the decision - that made little sense to him but seemed important - was made. He peeked at the computer monitor curiously. A handful of case files from the FBI database were open along with another tab that read 'Are you sure you want to delete this?' Y/N looked anything but sure. She was glaring holes into that seemingly inconsequential sentence.

Jason's eyes scanned the files swiftly as Y/N squirmed in the huge office chair. It was then that he noticed the pictures. Him. Not even Robin, it was Jason Todd - in all his unmasked glory. There was a bounty on him and not a few feet from him Y/N was contemplating whether to turn him over. He squinted in an attempt to read the charges, to figure out why the gods damned FBI wanted him of all people.

WANTED

Jason Peter Todd.

Possible Witness of the Robin Ambush - Placed at the crime scene by DNA.

Last known location: Gotham City.

Several accounts of assault, petty theft, forgery, resisting arrest.

Ward of Bruce Wayne.

The boy was only snapped out of it when Melisa asked, "Can you in good conscious arrest him, knowing he's the... you know who. He hurt me and those other officers, yes, but he does a hell of a lot of good too. Is it worth the money? Does he deserve it?"

"No." And just like that, the files were gone.

"Then I'll see you when you get home," A snort and then teasingly Melisa added. "Nightingale."

Y/N bid the girl farewells, hung up and turned back to the bat and robin, "Sorry, as you were saying."

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason x reader #robin x reader #titans #jason todd titans #reader insert #reader #y/n #jason x y/n #nightingale #bruce wayne #wayne #wayne enterprises #fbi #melisa #robin

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hysteriamodes · 4 years ago

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After watching “Gone Girl”.

So, uh, I have an unpopular opinion. I’m no expert on criminal investigations, I listen to a bunch of true crime podcasts, one that has a co-host, a retired detective, Paul Holes. I’m also a survivor of CSA, so I know how it goes down once you file a case to police and talked to a detective.

I can’t really say I like this movie completely -- don’t get me wrong, it’s a good movie, but... This is not how it works, lol.

It’s hard to really take a story seriously, knowing in real life that a criminal investigation into a disappearance would involve:

- Not just interviewing the spouse/significant other, interviewing those who have been previously romantically involved with someone. - Someone would have talked to Desi - Someone would have also looked into the stalking claims against Desi and if he was supposedly doing it electronically, there would have been a paper trail. Restraining orders are really hard to get. - If you buy a car and have to drive it, you need legitimate identification, have the title singed over, and register the car in your name, so the “getaway car” just seems so unfeasible to me. You can’t drive without plates, you’d get pulled over and sellers will take the plates from you. - Also, if you look on Craig’s List, it’s on your internet history. - They also would have had search warrants for electronic devices, including computers, and would have gone through that internet history. - You can pay cash for short-term rentals or hotels, but they still require ID. - Burner phones can be traced - “No body, no crime” -- the case built against Nick is completely circumstantial. Any rational prosecutor would have tossed it out and demanded more evidence, especially if no one’s double-checking for more suspects. The amount of blood they found at the crime scene is indicative of serious injury. Blunt-force injury like that as Amy claimed what happened would leave visible bruises, even for weeks, and would also have fractures. This lady rolls up (literally) to her husband just covered in blood and has no sign of that other than sexual intercourse. - CSI would have probed the convenient box cutter under the pillow, while she was supposedly tied up. I mean, seriously, what the hell? - Any investigator would be dubious of Amy’s responses during that interview. According to her, she was kidnapped and held for weeks, supposedly injured, and is so unusually cool. - In the same vein, you would have a victim’s advocate to check in on you and they too would fin that unusual. - They would bother to check Nick’s alibis, whereabouts, and where he was, so therefore, the credit card debt would look extremely dubious. Transaction IDs wouldn’t line up if Nick was out of the house, doing his thing, and Amy is buying stuff with his credit cards while he’s at work. Just saying. - Any smart investigator would have looked at the security footage of Desi and Amy calmly strolling up through the lake house, not of her being dragged in or at least sedated. Anyone sharp enough would have noticed that. - Desi’s phone would also have been traceable, so they would find out where he went, the casino, and there would have been security footage of Amy and Desi meeting. - Who’s to say that the people that robbed Amy didn’t notice. That woman saw through her shitty disguise and said nothing. There was a reward posted for finding Amy; that woman also could have called into the tip line and report her stay at this hotel or whatever. - The “clues”. A sensible person would have found them oh, so, convenient. - The “best friend” would have been interviewed, they would also disclose how long their friendship has been. - The hormone that comes up during pregnancy, that’s been diluted in water, wouldn’t be so potent enough to test... I’m still wondering what Amy’s motives were, she didn’t show Nick. She only showed her “friend” and it’s still not clear to me if the investigators checked into this.

I guess because I’m on the aro-ace spectrum, I probably don’t appreciate what this movie says about relationships and their roles and perceptions, but my thoughts were that Amy is clearly a sociopath, she has a troubled history, and that would have came up during investigations. Not to mention, Amy is just too Perfect, to the point she supposedly outwits the FBI. These are the same folks that work in more notorious disappearances, murders, and profiling outside of a self-absorbed couple. It just reminds me that law enforcement doesn’t take women criminals a seriously compared to men. Women are just as capable of absolute sociopathy as men, though there aren’t as many sociopathic women. Women that commit murder, schemes, and behave like this operate on a completely level compared to men.

The bottom line is, women that are criminals are underestimated and that’s what I saw in this movie. Sure, Nick is an absolute asshole, but he at least was knocked down a peg to see his own faults, even going as far as saying he won’t end the marriage for the sake of his unborn child (and... don’t get me started how Amy just conveniently came up with Nick’s sperm sample, after she said to him she didn’t want kids) upon discovering he’s going to be a father.

Amy could have ended this marriage in a divorce and bled him dry of his money. She could have ceased that bar, sold it, even take his sister to court because she was a co-owner, too. And given the “Amazing Amy” books, Nick still would have been publicly humiliated and even more humiliation would have came to him. A teacher, a well-known writer, having an affair with his students? I mean, come on. His friends would dump his ass, too.

Instead, Amy over-reacts, concocts this supposed disappearance and fabricated murder, in the 21st century, where even in the mid 2010s, you are completely traceable. Amy could have disposed of evidence all she wants, but the fact remains, people are nosy as fuck and would have noticed any of this shit. Amy, realistically, wouldn’t get away with this forever; she’d be sent to prison for life.

Amy isn’t like Thomason or Dani, she is a selfish, manipulative, and petty person. Thomason and Dani were true victims of circumstance and were so horribly traumatized, so caught up in hysteria and apathy subjected to them by men. Amy isn’t a victim; she had every chance to walk out of this, take ownership. If I was around a guy like Nick? I would have left him a long time ago. And I know that this whole movie is based on perception, but someone who’s so clearly narcissistic and so devoid of personality that she molds herself into the ideal “cool girl” would wise up and find another way, but no.

Yes, there is an argument that “women are crazy here”, but I just... I can’t.

I found myself more frustrated with this movie, so riddled with continuity errors and that it’s so unrealistic, with a narrator that may or may not be lying to the audience, who is also Completely Prefect and Untouchable that she’s practically a Mary Sue.

I’m also mad because there is a perception that women can make fake rape allegations and are already portrayed as conniving and scheming, and I feel like this movie just completely fed into these stereotypes. I will concede that it was likely doing that on purpose, but still, it’s not helping! Don’t get me wrong, it’s a good movie, everyone was really cool in it, and I’m sure the book is very different, but holy shit, this is like a bad episode of Law & Order: SVU.

#eeeeehhhhh #gone girl #murderino #this is not how it works #anyway i love SVU #this wold be olivia's worst nightmare lmao

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todorokiaimee · 6 years ago

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Blues In The Night 2. I’ll Be Seeing You

Previous chapter | Chapter Song

Todoroki Shoto. THE Todoroki Shoto was talking to me. What is life? Aimee chuckled to herself as she walked down the busy Tokyo streets. The cool fall air tickled her nose as she adjusted her coat tighter around her body. The walk from the coffee shop to her apartment wasn’t very long, but she somehow dreaded it just the same. With every step she took, every swish of her wide hips, there was a new pair of eyes looking her away. She was different. She knew that.

Even after over 10 years of living in Japan, the looks never got any easier. Maybe it would have been different if they only stared because she was Black. Usually, the only Black people walking around in Tokyo are visiting celebrities. Hell, no one would complain if the reason people stared was that they all thought she was Beyonce. But the truth was, she was no Beyonce. However, she was quite bootylicious. Maybe too much. Most people were not ready for this jelly. And that was the most difficult part of her walk.

As she made her way down the street, people would divert their path walking towards her. When she was a young girl, she thought they were just being polite. She realized the truth would she would hear snickers from behind her after she passed. Ever since then Aimee did her best to just keep her down, try not to call too much attention to herself. Now don’t her wrong, she loved herself. She loved her skin, she loved her hair, and she certainly loved her big black ass. But above all, she loved herself too much to put herself in a vulnerable position without a good cause.

Walking up the stairs to her second-floor apartment, she unlocked her door to be greeted by a rather loud meow. “Well hello to you too, Mochi,” She giggled as she picked him up, closing and locking the door behind her. Mochi was the first friend she made in Japan. She found him starving in the street as a kitten and she instantly took him in. Perhaps Aimee was a bit overzealous in her feeding him and nursing him back to health. Now Mochi was no longer a skinny kitten, but a very fat cat.

Flicking on the light switch, she walked into her bohemian paradise, kicking off her shoes. A soft light filled the room, illuminating the many tapestries that lined the walls of her modest home. Her apartment is what a real estate agent would call cozy, aka fucking small, but she lived alone and the rent was cheap so that was a-okay by her. With Mochi in tow, she walked into her bedroom, dropping him on her plush four-post bed, the antique frame creaking as she sat down on the edge. Aimee wasted no time getting undressed, opting for a cozy kitten onesie instead of her signature high waisted jeans.

After getting comfortable she shuffled over to the large wardrobe opposite her bed. Upon opening it she was met to the familiar sight of her voodoo altar, on the top shelf sat a picture of her late mother, Annette. “Hello, Mommy. You will not believe what your little girl got herself into today.” She smiled as she kissed her fingers, and then brought them to her mother’s lips. Draped across the frame was a string of pearls, a family heirloom passed down from mother to daughter, the last gift she ever received from her mother.

Just as she was about to light the incense on the altar, Aimee heard a loud sound from outside the door. She jumped as a hush fell over her, looking around the room she noted that Mochi was in the bedroom with her, the only other inhabitant of the home. Steeling herself, she grabbed the small saber from the altar and crept out the bedroom door and down the hall. Her heartbeat drummed loudly in her ears as she tried desperately to control her breathing. Peeking around the corner, she eyed someone behind the refrigerator door. Activating her quirk, she took a deep breath, lifting the sharp saber up high.

“Hey you got any of those donut things left?” a familiar female voice rang out and a pink mess of hair popped up from behind the door, eyes hidden behind a large pair of goggles.

Aimee sighed in relief and whined, “Hatsume! I nearly killed you!” She huffed, laying the saber down on the kitchen table. “And they’re called beignets.” The ravenette clutched her chest as she willed her wildly beating heart to calm down.

“Well do you have any? I skipped dinner because I was so excited about working on my new baby! Your father is gonna absolutely love it!” Hatsume closed the fridge door and plopped down in the seat across from her. The two had met a few years ago at a local craft store of all places. Hatsume was picking up fabric for a client’s hero costume and Aimee was picking up yarn for a little crochet project. The two started talking and once Hatsume found out that Aimee’s father was in the military, she couldn’t get rid of her even if she wanted to.

“Pause on that. First, let’s talk about how you got into my house. I know I locked the door.” Aimee crossed her arms eying her friend expectantly.

“Psh locks? Locks cannot deter the genius that is Hatsume Mei!” She cackled. “Besides, you were late. Would you have me wait outside in the cold? What kept you?”

Aimee blushed and tried to suppress a small smile. “Well... about that.”

“OH STORY TIME!” Hatsume laughed and rested her chin in her hand, staring wildly at her friend. Aimee filled her in on all the happenings at the coffee shop earlier that evening, having to stop many times for Hatsume’s surprised reactions and comments. “You know, Todoroki and I went to high school together.”

Aimee gasped. “What? I mean I knew you went to UA but you never said anything about going to school with THE Todoroki Shoto.”

“Wow, your fan girl is showing there.” Aimee blushed and bit her lip, sinking into her chair. “And you never asked. Besides I was in the support course and him in the hero course, obviously. We rarely crossed paths. I really only knew him through Deku.”

“Casual name drop.” The dark-skinned beauty smirked as she got up to pour herself a glass of sweet tea. She offered some to her guest but she politely declined.

“Hey! Don’t tease me about the one that got away. Besides this about you and Todoroki!”

Aimee scoffed and sat back down in her seat. “Um excuse you, there is no me and Todoroki. Just one chance encounter.” She paused, sucking her bottom lip cheekily. “One chance encounter that is permanently etched into my brain and will someday tell my grandchildren how the sexiest pro-hero of my time almost barbequed me and I would have provided Tabasco had I known.”

“All I’m saying is, the Todoroki I know, doesn’t go out of his way to talk to people unless he has to. Total strong silent type. For him to go through all of that, means something.”

Aimee shook her head and chortled. “Quit trying to make something out of nothing. I’ll probably never see him again. Now hush up and let’s get you something to eat.”

Hatsume clapped her hands in excitement, ready for a meal. “Yes, ma’am! And never say never!”

—————————————————-

Todoroki stepped into the lobby of his luxury high rise building, nodding politely to the doorman. “Great job today, Mr. Todoroki. I saw you on the news again,” the doorman jogged up to him pressing the button to operate the elevator. Shoto gave the man a small thank you while stepping inside the doors, his mind wandering off thinking about the day's past events.

After the ride up to top floor, he walked across the hall and unlocked the door to his quiet penthouse apartment. He tossed his keys on the end table by the door while taking off his shoes. Out of habit, he scanned over his spacious apartment. The minimalist sleek and modern decor greeting him just the same as always. Nothing was out of place and everything was spotless.

Shoto trudged over to his home office, sitting down at his desk. He sighed at the paperwork left there that seemed a mile high. Opening up his laptop, he got to work on his reports, or at least he tried to. He had every intention to, really he did. But his mind just kept wandering, remembering his fateful meeting with a certain raven-haired beauty. Aimee. Shoto smiled and shook his head at himself. He finally got the nerve to talk to her and he went and thoroughly embarrassed himself. Yet, remembering her sweet and caring face, she didn’t seem to mind all that much.

Focus Shoto. He sighed and got back to work, typing away. Unfortunately, that resolve lasted all but ten minutes. Somehow he found himself on Google, typing in her name in the search box. He didn’t know what he expected to find, but he was genuinely curious. Instagram huh. He clicked on the link to find a page, covered in pictures of Aimee. Her at festivals, her with a comically large cat, her in… is that a classroom?

Just as he was about to lurk deep into her page, his cell phone rung, pulling him back to reality. Checking the caller ID, he quirked a brow at the name listed. “Midoriya, what can do for you?”

“Todoroki, hi um.. Sorry to bother you, but did you ever get a chance to look at that case file I sent over to you? Uh, no rush or anything!” The green-haired boy had grown leaps and bounds from the time they had met in high school, but he still had that some nervous disposition.

Shoto huffed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “No sorry. I was... distracted.”

His old friend hummed knowingly, a smile in voice, “Ah, too busy getting wrapped up with a little lady?” He laughed as Shoto’s eyes widened.

“What? No, we just met.”

Deku shrieked on the other end of the phone. “Wait! I just saying stuff to be funny! You actually met someone?!”

Todoroki, couldn’t help the small smile that appeared on his face. “Yes, I suppose I have.” He winced as he pulled the receiver away from his ear, Midoriya shrieking once again.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so happy for you! So where did you meet her? What’s her name? What’s her quirk? Is she a pro-hero too, or is she in support? Not that she has to be in the hero business at all, I’m she's a great catch no matter what her profession. I mean she has to be if she caught your eye after all this time.”

Shoto sighed as his friend continued his barrage of questions without pause. That’s another thing that never changed about Midoriya, constant muttering and word vomit when he’s excited about something. “Midoriya… Midoriya!”

He suddenly stopped talking with a small squeak. “Sorry. Did you catch any of that?”

Todoroki chuckled lightly, “Somewhat. Her name is Aimee and we met at that coffee shop I like to frequent on my days off.”

“What’s she like? What does she look like?”

Todoroki smiled, looking back at her pictures on instagram. “Well, she’s nothing like any woman I ever met before. She has this long curly black hair and clear dark skin...She has these large kind eyes… a smart mouth which might actually be my favorite if it doesn’t get me in trouble first.” Todoroki could go on but he suddenly felt embarrassed all over again, thinking about what transpired.

He almost forgot Deku was on the line until he heard a squeal through the phone. “Oooo Shoto you got it bad! You are so smitten!” He giggled giddily while Shoto blushed, still scrolling.

“Of course not, how could I be? I just met her.”

“Well did you ask her out a date?”

“No… Well, I’d like to…” Todoroki paused, looking at picture she posted with a certain pink haired woman. The hell? “Midoriya, who was that crazed woman with the pink hair that created your support items while we were at UA?”

“Huh? Oh Hatsume, but what does she have to do with you asking your crush on a date? Are you trying to change the subject?” Midoriya asked quizzically.

“No, I’m looking at her instagram and she has a picture with Hatsume. They look like friends.” Todoroki studied the picture closely trying to figure out how the two would have crossed paths.

“Wow, really? Small world. And jeeze, you really do have it bad if you’re already lurking on her instagram. Just call her and ask her out. I’m sure she’ll say yes.”

Shoto hummed before something donned on him, groaning loudly. I’m a dumbass. “I didn’t get her number,” he mumbled.

“Well, you obviously found her IG so just send her a DM.”

Todoroki thought on it and sighed again. “That’s no good. I don’t even know the password to my account as my PR assistant runs it. Plus doesn’t that avenue carry a certain stigma? I don’t want her to get the wrong idea about me.” He could always just look her up in the police database since he has access as a pro hero, but that would be an abuse of power. Suddenly an idea popped into his head. “Midoriya, can you call Hatsume and ask her for her info for me?”

Midoriya clicked his tongue and replied in a small voice, “I would… but Uraraka would probably kill me,” He giggled nervously thinking of his girlfriend’s angry face. “Look, you said you met at the coffee shop you both like right? Just hang around there and I’m sure she’ll turn up sooner or later. Plus I think it will go a lot better if you ask for it yourself.”

Todoroki hummed in agreement before closing out of Aimee’s instagram page. “You’re right. That’s the proper thing to do. Hopefully, I’ll see her again tomorrow. Now about the actual reason you called. You said it was a string of missing persons cases that you suspect are connected, correct?”

———————————-

The next day after his usual patrols, Todoroki set out for the coffee shop with a new purpose. He was going to ask Aimee out. Even if it killed him. And it just might with her quick wit and sharp tongue. Wanting to make a good impression, he dressed in dark wash jeans and paired it with a cream cashmere sweater. He figured it was best to keep it simple and not appear like he was trying too hard, but he also wanted her to know, he looked quite different out of his hero costume.

Walking inside, he scanned the room for her trademark black curls to no avail. Damn, she isn’t here. His face noticeably fell, as he walked up to the barista, giving her his order. “Everything okay, sir?” the barista gave him a quizzical look as she prepared his americano. Todoroki nodded and paid, taking his coffee to a booth with a clear view of the entrance. He resigned to wait around for a bit. Surely Aimee will come by before too long. Right?

Two hours later Shoto groaned to himself, staring at his long-finished americano. That’s it. She’s not coming. She probably went and found a new place to get her coffee where she wouldn’t be subjected to my dangerous flirting. A ping from his cell phone alerted him to a text message. Seeing it was from his father, he reluctantly opened it, as it could be something work-related.

Flames for Brains: Come back to the agency asap.

Flames for Brains: I read over the files you sent me from Deku.

Flames for Brains: There may be something to this.

Shoto: Okay. Be there soon.

Shoto got up with a huff and threw away his cup, heading for the exit. Maybe it wasn’t meant to be. Although, I suppose I could try again tomorrow. He hummed to himself as he walked out onto the sidewalk, headed towards his father’s agency when he saw her. Aimee. She was slowly walking toward him, her eyes cast down into a book. He took a moment to really take her in while she was otherwise preoccupied. Her usual curls now rested on top of her head in a loose bun, a few tendrils escaping to frame her round face. The generous curves of her body were dressed in a crisp white tee paired with a brown leather jacket. Her jeans hugged her hips like they were made for only her. He looked at his watch, knowing he only had a few minutes and it may be now or never. This was his chance. “Miss Faurie? Miss Faurie!”

Aimee looked up from her book to find none other than Todoroki Shoto, calling her name. HER name. In public. Actual real life. Heat rose to her cheeks as she stopped and took in his form as he towered over her. Fuck he’s hot. “Oh um.. Hi. How are you doing this fine evening?” This fine evening? What are you doing, talk normal you dummy! She cursed herself internally.

“I’m doing well and yourself?” Todoroki cringed at how formal he sounded.

“I can’t complain.” Aimee and Shoto looked everywhere but each other, too nervous to say anything else. Aimee was the first to buckle. “Well you must be a busy man, so I’ll get out of your hair...” She went to sidestep around him to leave when Shoto panicked.

“No, wait!” Aimee blinked in surprise at his sudden outburst as Shoto cleared his throat. “I would like to take you out on a date... If you would have me that is,” he said in a much softer voice.

“Why?” The word slipped out of her mouth before she could think to stop it, her face getting hotter by the second. But what would Japan’s most eligible bachelor want with her? Could anyone really blame her for being a bit skeptical? “I’m sorry, I just don’t know why someone like you, would want to go out with someone like me,” she said in a small voice.

Todoroki looked down at her angelic face and saw a look in her eye that he thought he’d never see. Doubt? It was almost heartbreaking to see coming from the woman who could reduce him to a flustered mess in five words or less. Shoto gently took her free hand, looking into her eyes for any cue to step back. A soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Actually, if I’m being honest, you’ve been on my mind ever since you left the cafe yesterday, and I would personally love the opportunity to find out all the reasons why.”

Hot damn, now that’s just not fair! Aimee could have melted right there at his feet, if she weren’t trying her hardest to at least seem cool and collected. Mama always said ‘a girl had to play hard to get, or else her man will play hard to keep.’ Shoto nervously rubbed the back of his neck, unintentionally giving Aimee a front seat view of his bulging bicep.

“Consider it a do-over for yesterday. I can’t let that be the last impression of me.”

Aimee thought it over like she wasn’t obviously going to say yes, just to make him sweat a little. With a curt nod and smile, she pulled out her phone, handing it over to the duel quirked hero. “Deal. Put your info in and I’ll text you so you’ll have mine.” Todoroki eagerly keyed in his info before passing her phone back to her. “And by the way, you don’t have to call me Miss Faurie. Aimee is just fine.”

Todoroki gave her a small smile and a nod before checking his watch. “My apologies but I really need to get going. I’ll text you.”

Aimee smiled to herself as she typed away on her phone. “No worries, I’m sending you my info now.” As they bid each other goodbye, and started to walk in their opposite directions, Shoto felt his phone buzz in his hand.

Unknown Number: Let me guess, you like your women like you like your coffee? ;)

Shoto’s cheeks flushed a dusty pink as he looked back just in time to catch Aimee shoot him a wink in real life. This is gonna be fun.

Chapter 3

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theoddcatlady · 6 years ago

Text

My Friends Went On A Roadtrip Through Europe

The only reason I didn’t go on the ‘greatest trip of our lives’ was because I was in a car accident that nearly killed me.

It was bad. I wasn’t able to get out of bed without assistance for that first month. Broken leg, busted up ribs, I looked more like a boxer that just got out of a match gone bad than a recent highschool graduate who was planning on going to college as a psychology major.

My friends and I had been planning this trip since our freshman year in highschool. I know. It was fucking stupid. But we promised if we all graduated with a grade average of 3.5 or better and if we all scraped together the cash from after school/summer jobs, we’d take a road trip through Europe. Somehow we actually managed to do it, our parents were so impressed that they even kicked in some cash. The silly dreams of fourteen year olds were coming to life.

Whitney wanted to go to Paris and see the Eiffel Tower. Jade was all about Austria, she wanted to see where the Sound of Music was filmed. Jonah planned to eat all the chocolate he could stomach in Switzerland. Me? I wanted to see the countryside of every country- mountains, rivers, the ocean… But one week before the plane was supposed to take off, well, the accident happened.

I told my friends to go without me, but I made them promise to constantly send me updates and tell me how much fun they were having. So they left- Whitney, Jade, Jonah, Holden, and Tori. I even gave them a portion of the money I saved up so they could go crazy.

At first, everything was normal. I got pictures, they even sent me a package from England full of lil knick knacks and snacks. I hated the Irn Bru but the Cadbury chocolates were to DIE for. But everything went wrong shortly after Austria.

Below are the emails and messages my friends sent me when they had the time. These all take place over about three weeks. After that, everything goes silent. Their parents have yet to hear from them. They’ve filed missing person’s reports, but I think if any of them are still alive… they won’t want to be found.

From: Jade

Jesus CHRIST, you will not believe what happened last night, Lilah.

First off, let me make abundantly clear that no one is dead, and no the trip is not over yet. We got really lucky. Second off, Jonah is a fucking moron and I swear to god once his stitches are out I’m ripping him a new one.

Okay so last night we were out a bit late, we all got a little tipsy and we were heading back to the hotel. Legal drinking age is eighteen, it’s not like that time we tried to sneak into Beverly’s with those fake ID’s. On the way back, we stumbled across another drunk who made a pass at Jonah. And you know Jonah, his drunk ass reacted loudly and violently. I swear he was about to make a swing at the guy… but the other guy swung first.

I swear, the drunk guy fought like an animal, Jonah didn’t stand a chance. We barely managed to rip Jonah away from him before he ripped his throat out. It was bloody and MESSY.

We got Jonah to the nearest emergency room, got him patched up, headed back home to sleep it off. How much do you wanna bet that he won’t remember it in the morning?

I’m gonna hit the sack. Jonah is a moron.

From: Jonah

Jade told me she sent you an email about the fight. She really needs to chill, I’m really not that bad off. Besides, the guy was a creep.

I do remember what happened, despite what she thinks, we were heading back when, get this, strange guy complimented my SKIN. Said it looked smooth and rosy. That’s not even flirting anymore, that’s just creepy! I mean, he was totally your type, tall, dark, handsome, blue eyes and a bit of scruff on his face, but noooot mine.

I’m fine though, you can barely tell where the guy got me. I think he had a knife because I got ripped. Up. Can barely tell now, he must’ve just grazed me.

We’ll be looping back up and heading for Poland next. Gonna cross through Germany to do that, but I don’t mind the drive. Besides, Germany = MORE BEER.

Miss you, next time you will totally have to come along.

From: Tori

I really wish you were here. I miss you so, so much. How is your therapy going? I hope it’s going well, you really missed out on some beautiful views today. The camera doesn’t quite capture it, but I hope to paint it once I’m home with my supplies. Maybe I can bring a little of this place back to you.

I think I’m just homesick. I might cut my trip short and head back, I’m really worried about you.

From: Whitney

Did you talk Tori out of going home yet? I don’t think she’s willing to admit how spooked she got when that bum attacked Jonah. She started crying when she saw how bloodied he was. I was pretty freaked too, but it was way worse than it looked. He’s actually completely fine now. Stitches came out, there’s not even a scar. I’m pretty sure Jonah’s actually bummed there’s nothing to show off for when he gets home LOL. But yeah, nothing to worry about, he’s still the same energetic Jonah we all know and love.

Holden’s horrible at remembering to email you, I’ve told him like, six times. Did he do anything other than the one time he sent a what’s up? He totally only did that because I nagged him.

I wish we spent more time in Italy, but we’re making great time through Germany. I’m gonna go now, kick ass and take names at Overwatch for us when you can sit up, all right?

From: Tori

Jonah’s almost too over the top since the attack. I think he’s trying to make up for something, I don’t know what. It’s like… remember that time he pounded Mountain Dews all night while we were gaming? This was during our League of Legends phase (glad that ended) but Jonah was incredibly manic and he was constantly getting up to pace.

He’s like that but 24/7. I don’t think he’s slept a full night, and it’s almost impossible to make him stop for the night. We want to relax, there’s no rush to get to Poland. I’ll talk to him when I can get him to settle, see what’s wrong. Love you.

From: Jade

Welp, Tori went home last night.

Her clothes and passport are gone, she left a note saying she really missed you and her parents, she’ll make it up to us when we’re home. I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed she didn’t talk to us beforehand.

She was right though, Jonah needs a chill pill. Is this how some people deal with trauma? Because I mean, you weren’t there, but that was… pretty bad. I can’t even imagine how Jonah feels, but he’s Jonah. He never lets anyone in. It’s why you two broke up sophomore year, kid has issues. I hoped this trip through Europe might help him learn about himself but I think it’s making it worse.

From: Whitney

WE’RE IN DENMARK BECAUSE APPARENTLY JONAH DECIDED POLAND WAS A STUPID IDEA.

Ugh, sorry. So Jonah offered to drive us through the night. I said no, but Holden and Jade were all for it. So I sucked it up, took something to make me drowsy, and konked out in the back seat. When I woke up, Jonah and Jade were having a shouting match and turns out, we’re in DENMARK. That wasn’t the plan. He didn’t clear this with us.

Holden’s on his side, saying that Denmark is a cool country too but Jade’s royally pissed. I can’t blame her. We promised at the beginning of the trip that we were to clear any travel plans with each other. We’d talk about it.

That’s another reason to miss you- you are SO good at talking. <3

From: Jonah

Everyone but Holden’s pissed at me.

Listen, I’m fine, I promise. I’ve just had to deal with some insomnia lately, is that really that bad? It’s not like I’m as bad off as you were. There was a brief moment that morning of the accident we all thought we’d lose you.

The insomnia goes away in the day. I can sleep then. Everyone can go and have fun during the day, I get to sleep, and at night I go do my shit. There’s. Nothing. Wrong with that.

I mean, another reason I wish you were here was that I’ve been having some… preeettyyy interesting dreams involving you, when I can sleep anyway. TMI. But maybe I should’ve been less of a puss with you back in the day. I shouldn’t have pushed you away.

When I’m back, can we go on a date? I’ll buy. Anywhere you want to go.

From: Jade

Jonah made a pass at me. And he’s not drunk.

I’m confused. And worried. Not gonna lie, he was pretty smooth about it, but I’ve never thought of him that way. He’s like that obnoxious little brother you love anyway. I told him no and he accepted gracefully.

Talking with Whitney and he also made a move at him… and at Holden? Jesus Christ, it’s about time that dumbass fell out of the closet. Holden’s pretty into it though. I’m wondering if this trip was actually a success in that matter.

We’re going up through Scandinavia now. Sweden, here we come!

At least we’re in some of the most gay friendly countries in the world right now… although I swear to god I think someone’s been following us. I’ve spotted this small white car twice now and I think it’s the same driver. But I’m probably just paranoid.

From: Holden

i know i dont email you often. i hate writing.

but something’s really wrong with jonah. i think he hurt someone.

last night we went out for drinks. ive always thought jonah was cute but never thought hed give me the time of day. we shared a hotel room, nothing happened but it was nice.

but I woke up this morning and I was trying to find something to wear and I accidentally went through one of jonah’s bags because our bags look the same and

i found one of his shirts. it’s covered in blood. And I found tori’s passport. it’s also bloody.

i’ve been reading and there’s been two bodies on the same route we’ve been going. i also called tori’s mom and she hasn’t heard anything from her daughter. she hasnt gone home. what should I do lilah? you were always the smart one.

From: Jade

Jonah’s lost his goddamn mind.

I’m surprised I get signal out in the middle of nowhere but Holden asked him about Tori and Jonah got really defensive. Then he brought up clothes covered in blood and that Tori never made it home and… Jonah snapped.

He pulled over to the side of the road and lunged for Holden. Whitney tried to break it up and got pretty fucked up for it. They’ll be okay as soon as we get to a hospital or something.

He’s gone now. He took the keys with him. I’m gonna try and call for help but jesus christ how have things gone so wrong?

From: Jonah

(This email was sent to all of us, along with the next one.)

I’m with Master now. He never meant for this to happen. He never meant for me to get turned. He tried to find me but my own stupidity kept us going… I’m so mad at myself. I should’ve told you guys what’s been going on. I’ve been barely sleeping, any sort of bright light fucking hurts, and Tori…

I never meant to hurt Tori. I swear to god. She was one of my best friends. But she’s dead. And I killed her. I couldn’t stop myself. By the time I came to my senses, I’d shredded her to pieces. If they ever find where I dumped her, she’ll probably be a Jane Doe for the rest of time.

Master found me running around around and stopped me. We’re someplace safe now. He’ll help me.

But I need to know one thing-

Did I bite you guys?

From: Whitney

You bit me. And you bit Holden.

Jade’s fine. For now. I don’t know how long though. I feel strange. Like there’s something burning in my head and down my spine. Please find us. Holden’s starting to feel strange too.

Lilah, we love you so much.

Please, don’t try to come find us. Go to college. Have fun. Make new friends. Study hard. Forget about us.

We’re dead anyway.

#horror stories #scary stories #creepypasta #writers on tumblr #creative writing #my stories

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