#but when i first mentioned this meetup she was severely against it
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im part of the Mom Club now at work (even tho some of 'em never came back from maternity leave)(good for them) and we've organized a little playdate tomorrow with just us and the babies. no husbands or plus ones.
and im very excited to get away from my sister even just for a few hours
#she asked if she can join bc she also wants to see baby interacting with others#but when i first mentioned this meetup she was severely against it#why is it bad for me to get out with her??? why are we being locked up in the house??#its G O O D for babies to get exposed to the real world#its not like im taking her to a toxic wasteland. its a park... meant for kids....
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Haze
i saw a meme and it made me want to write a Morel piece. then @ramwrites suggested making him a banshee and i loved it
i have definitely bastardized banshee lore but sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do for a story
Warnings: manipulation, mentions of death
A hiking trip up to a nearby mountain trail had been on a list of things to do for you and your friend group for a while. Your friend Denali had suggested it, and she assured you all that it wouldn't be anything too difficult; it was just a beginner's trail that would consist of a few hours of walking up the trail and back. And then maybe you all could grab some food after.
You were pretty excited for it, as the idea sounded refreshing to you. Another thing that added to the anticipation of the hike was the fact that it had also been a little while since everyone in the friend group had been able to hang out together.
Or more accurately, it had been a while since you were able to make it to one of these friend meetups.
Some kind of bad luck had been plaguing you recently; the last few times an outing for the four of you had been planned, something unexpected came up for you and you needed to cancel last minute. Be it work obligations, family emergencies or just you getting sick the night before, it had been a while since you hung out with them like you once had.
Aiden, Denali and Colton all seemed to take it well, but you swore you could sense a growing annoyance in them. They seemed to be shorter with you in texts, and there had been a few times now that you'd sent a picture or said something in the group chat and it had been ignored. You worried that they were starting to think you were making up excuses instead of genuinely being unable to see them, but every time you tried to talk with them privately, they told you that there wasn't anything wrong and that you were just overreacting.
That hadn't made you feel any better. You just felt like a bad friend.
But today would be different.
You made a point to ensure that you had the day completely cleared for the hike, getting the day off from your work well in advance and doing your best to stay away from anything that might make you sick. The morning of your friends had all confirmed that it was still on, and after a little while they were going to rendezvous at your place to pick you up before you all headed out to the trail.
Things were going to be different today, and you were excited for it.
And things were different.
But maybe not in a way that you had expected.
You didn't notice the second car that had pulled up behind Denali's initially when they stopped outside your place. You only noticed that something was different when you approached Denali's car and noticed that one of the seats in the back had been taken up by a pile of backpacks, leaving no room for you.
When Aiden stepped out of the first car as you came out to greet him, he explained the situation. Without your knowledge, Aiden had invited someone from his work, a woman named Fawn. Evidently during those times when you couldn't make it, your friends had been hanging out with her a lot, and they had figured that she should be invited on this trip as well.
That they were hanging out with other people didn't upset you; they had every right to spend their time with people that were able to show up. But you felt slightly hurt that you hadn't been asked or even given a heads-up that this was happening. You had been anticipating spending time with your old friend group for this trip and instead you would be trying to reconnect while also navigating a new group dynamic.
But you decided not to say anything about it. You just nodded and smiled when Aiden told you that you'd be riding with Fawn in her car. Although it was unexpected, you told yourself that new people wasn't necessarily a bad thing. You could probably make good friends with her while also berating yourself for your first reaction to her being disappointment. That sort of attitude was no good.
Despite all of that, you quickly came to feel that you didn't like Fawn very much.
For one thing, the woman was one of the most reckless drivers you had ever come across. Virtually blowing through stop signs, running several lights and swerving around drivers that she felt weren't going fast enough, there were several times during the trip that you felt she was going to cause an accident. She also passed by Denali's car for some reason, and when you asked her why, she said she thought it would be fun to see who could get to the mountain first. You didn't agree, but there was literally nothing you could do but hold onto the inside of the passenger side door for dear life. The motion sickness you'd gotten was so bad that by the time you made it to the parking lot next to the hiking trail, you'd needed to lean against the side of her car and take in deep breaths in an attempt to not throw up your breakfast.
At least she seemed pretty apologetic when she saw you like that, and she offered you a bottle of water which you gladly took. But the second Denali's car pulled up she seemed to switch her focus to that completely, going up to the rest of the group to greet them. She had something of a one-track mind, it seemed. It didn't make her a bad person, but you still wanted a bit of distance for now.
After recovering and making sure you had everything you needed in your backpack, you approached Aiden while the others were getting ready.
“Hey,” you said, “you think you and I could switch places for the car ride back?”
“Oh c'mon, it couldn't have been that bad,” he said, “you'll hurt her feelings if you do that. She really wants to know you.”
Fawn walked up right after, and since you weren't willing to criticize her driving right in front of her, you dropped it.
Meanwhile the mountain loomed above all of you. Tall and imposing with a rather dense white fog that almost obscured the very top of it. There were parts that were heavily forested, and you briefly wondered if you would need to worry about anything like bears or some other kind of large wild animal.
“How far up are we going?” you asked Denali.
“Not too far. We'll be sticking to the marked trail; there's a cool little observation deck at the end of it,” she told you, “I figure we'll head towards that and then come back the same way.”
You nodded, but before you could give any real response Colton called her over for something, and she left to help him. Aiden and Fawn were chatting about something, so you stood silent and at the ready, looking up once more at the mountain.
Despite the distance, you swore you saw something moving. You wanted to say it was some large kind of four-legged creature, though it was impossible to tell what exactly it was.
“Are there bears on the mountain?” you asked aloud.
“Nah.”
That was all the response you got.
For about ten minutes after the hike started, Fawn had stayed at the back with you, asking you some basic questions about yourself that you would in turn ask her once you had answered. You hoped that the interaction wasn't as awkward as it had felt to you. Maybe it was but she also didn't want to say anything about it.
Then when your group came across an old, crumbling well, Fawn had run up towards Aiden to get some better pictures of the structure, and when the group began to move again, she chose to stay there next to him.
Denali had taken the lead with Colton right behind. They were talking, though what they were talking about you couldn't be sure as you only caught bits and pieces of the conversation. A few steps behind them were Aiden and Fawn, talking about something that was going on at their workplace. And a few steps behind those two was you, trailing behind the group and unable to join either conversation. Although Aiden had said that Fawn wanted to know you, she hadn't said much of substance to you before she turned her attention back to him. Although maybe that was your fault. Maybe it really was obvious that you didn't care for her much. You thought that you were doing a decent job at being polite, but maybe she could tell that you were still a bit annoyed about her driving earlier.
Or maybe she just wanted to talk to Aiden right now and you were overreacting again.
You weren't sure.
It just felt like you were being excluded.
Of course. The first time in forever that you were able to make it to a meet-up with them, and it felt like you weren't wanted.
You sighed to yourself as you walked behind silently, trying to tell yourself that it was unreasonable to be thinking like that and that you wouldn't have been invited if they didn't want you there. The hike had just started; you couldn't decide that the whole thing would be bad just because of a rough beginning.
At least for now you could enjoy the scenery, and you looked about the woods as you walked along the trail, noting the different types of trees and plants and just how many of them surrounded you as you walked by on the trail. You stopped now and then to take a few pictures with your phone. Although you could hear the distinct chirping of birds in the distance, you didn't manage to see any, and despite the movement you thought you had seen while in the parking lot, it didn't seem like there were any other animals in the area. Denali had said this was an easy trail; maybe people frequented it enough that most animals avoided any areas close to it. That was too bad, but not that big of a deal. At least you were still getting nice pictures of the forest.
Your group came across a wide set of wooden stairs with a wooden barrier on either side after a bit, beginning a steeper ascent towards the higher parts of the mountain. Nothing had really changed within the group, though you noted that the conversations had mostly died down in an effort to appreciate the nature around you. Colton was also frequently looking behind to make sure everyone was still there. The two of you managed to lock eyes at one point, and you smiled at him. He gave back something of a half-smile before looking back in front of him. Maybe it was just a coincidence, but you noted that he didn't look back after that.
The walk continued, and all of you were quiet now, looking about the scenery. Some of them occasionally made remarks whenever they spotted something unusual, like an oddly shaped tree trunk or rock. You stayed silent, though, remembering your messages that had gone ignored and worried that if you said anything, that would be ignored as well.
Were you being too anxious about this? Probably. You sighed to yourself again as you tried to keep those kinds of thoughts from running amok.
Just distract yourself by looking around, you told yourself.
You paused when you glanced over to your right.
It looked like there was some sort of stone pillar standing in the distance. The dark rock was covered in moss and vines, but the shape was such that it couldn't have been a natural formation. Someone human had put it there some time ago. It also looked as though there was similar wreckage behind the pillar, and you wondered if it may have once been some kind of building.
Taking out your phone and pulling up the camera, you zoomed in on the the ruined structure. You briefly glanced over to your friends as you did, making sure they weren't leaving you too far behind.
But when you looked back to the phone, you let out a small sound of surprise.
There was a man standing by the pillar.
Your eyes immediately went back to the pillar as you wondered where this guy had come from.
The shadows over in that area made things a bit darker, but you were able to see a general shape that looked like a person. You squinted slightly as you looked at him, trying to make out any details. But strangely, you couldn't. It was just the shape of a rather broad man, and as you continued to look, you found that it looked almost wispy, like a few pieces of cloud had floated down and arranged themselves to imitate what a person might look like.
…. Why did it feel like it was looking back at you?
“What are you doing?”
Aiden's voice called to you, and you snapped out of your stupor to find that the whole group was standing there waiting on you.
Your mouth fell open to try and offer some explanation, to tell them about what you were looking at, but when you glanced back to where the shape had been-
He wasn't there.
And when you looked back to the camera, you found he was gone from there as well.
Had you imagined it?
The entire thing had happened within mere seconds. The pillar wasn't large enough that he could be hiding behind it, and no one could move that fast without making some bit of noise. Looking between the view from your camera and the pillar a few more times, you decided that you had imagined it. Though you were certain you had seen something standing there, there was no way that could have actually been the case. Maybe a shadow just looked weird within the lighting at that moment?
Aiden called out to you again.
“Sorry!” you called out, putting the phone away as you hurried up the stairs to rejoin them.
“What you were looking at?” Fawn asked you.
“Something back there,” you explained, “ it looked like there were some ruins of a building.”
“Oh, did you get a picture? Can I see?”
“Ah, sorry, I didn't.”
Fawn pouted, asking “why not?”
“I thought I saw someone.”
They both looked at you strangely.
“You couldn't get a picture because you thought you saw someone?” Aiden asked.
“I don't know. It was just weird,” you said, getting a bit flustered as you continued “I thought I saw a guy for a second – or something that looked like a guy – but then he was gone.”
“... 'Something' that 'looked' like a guy,” Aiden repeated.
“Oh wow, I didn't know you could see ghosts!” Fawn exclaimed, giggling a little, “we've got a coworker who swears that the printer room is haunted. Maybe we should bring her here and see if she also sees something.”
…. You weren't sure if she was making fun of you or not, so you stayed silent. Aiden was still looking at you like you had two heads while Fawn was pulling out her own phone, preparing to walk back down to take a look at the ruins herself. Then Denali called out to the three of you, asking what the hold-up was. That was enough to spur you to begin walking again.
“Aw, I wanted to get a picture,” Fawn said as you began climbing the stairs once more.
Fawn then looked to Aiden as he said to her “we can always snap a picture on the way back.”
“That's true.”
“And did Nell say that the printer room was haunted? I thought she said it was the third floor bathroom,” Aiden then said.
“It could've been both. According to her a lot of places are haunted. Something about weird energies,” Fawn responded.
They were talking about something from their work again, and since you still had no way to join in, you walked behind them in silence. As your group continued the ascent, you glanced behind to see if there was anything weird with the pillar from this angle. There was a nagging feeling at the back of your mind, and you felt as if there was someone watching you.
There was nothing, and though the feeling wasn't going away, you told yourself to forget about it.
Time passed as the clouds parted some to show how the sun had moved higher in the sky, and your group came to a wooden platform with benches and tables that were clearly meant as a rest stop for any hikers. The others decided that it was a good time to have lunch and settled themselves at a table. You, on the other hand, were still feeling some side effects from Fawn's driving earlier, and as you really didn't want to get sick in the middle of the hike, you opted not to eat. You sat with them at first, but when you once again felt like you couldn't contribute to the conversation, you stood up, the amateur photographer in you feeling fulfilled somewhat as you snapped a few more pictures of the scenery.
You wandered over to a different part of the platform, leaning your elbows on the wooden fencing as you looked out at the forest.
At the beginning of your trip it had been fairly overcast, and only after you had started this excursion had the clouds thinned and allowed the sun to shine through. But just as the weather started to clear up, it seemed to be turning overcast again as a mist began to fall, seemingly sliding from the top of the mountain and through the thick forest of trees. Was rain a possibility? Maybe, and of course you hadn't brought anything with you if that did happen. You had made a point to bring a first aid kit in case either you or someone else got hurt, but nothing to protect you in case the weather turned bad.
A flash of white caught your eye while you were caught up in your thoughts.
Glancing to your left, you found yourself staring at a white rabbit.
It was nice to finally see some wildlife for the first time since this hike had started and at first glance it seemed perfectly normal. But the more you looked at it, the more.... Odd it seemed.
It was sitting upright facing away from you, not moving at all. That didn't seem quite normal, since you thought most rabbits were inclined to hunker down and try to blend in with their surroundings if they encountered something they thought was a threat. This one didn't seem to be hiding, it just sat still, and the more you looked, the more it didn't seem like it was even breathing. It also seemed strange to find a pure white rabbit up in the mountains. The color was striking against the earthly tones of the forest, and presumably that should've meant that it would have been easy prey for any natural predators that roamed the area. In fact, it didn't look the slightest bit dirty, making you wonder if it was someone's pet that had escaped.
And the more you looked at it, the more something about it just seemed to be off. Like it had some kind of weird energy to it.
And yet you felt an urge to get closer to it.
The instant you moved closer it reacted by twisting it's head around to face you, and you saw it's face for the first time.
Or rather, it's lack of one.
No eyes, no nose, no mouth, no sort of features whatsoever. It's face, and the rest of it for that matter, was completely blank, and it seemed less and less like a living creature the longer you looked at it.
You stared at it, unsure of how you were supposed to react to such a thing.
“The rabbit doesn't have a face,” you said aloud.
Your friends didn't hear you. In their defense, you hadn't spoken all that loudly.
When you moved again it bolted, vanishing behind surrounding tree trunks.
Follow it
Maybe it was because of the shock you felt at seeing that thing that you didn't even question the thought. You just climbed over the fencing and headed out in the same direction you had seen it run off to.
It wasn't long before you caught sight of it again, and once more you were struck by how odd this thing was. It was sitting up again, staring at you. Almost like it was waiting for you.
Did you really want to follow a faceless rabbit into the woods? Apparently you did, because when you got close again it ran off, and the process repeated itself as it began to lead you through the forest, taking you further and further away from the hiking trail and down an unmarked path. The rabbit never got too far before it would stop and wait for you to catch up, and it stayed still during the few times that you would pause for a break. It really was waiting for you, and somehow, it didn't seem like it was running in any random direction. More like it was leading you somewhere.
A haze had seemed to form in your mind. Somehow, none of this seemed questionable to you, that you were running off in pursuit of a white rabbit like a heroine from a Lewis Carroll book. Or at least some darker version of that tale given the rabbit's lack of a face which you still weren't able to make sense of. There was no reason for you to be running off of the trail like this, into terrain that you weren't familiar with, but every time you caught sight of the rabbit, something inside you told you that you needed to go after it.
You did just that for some time until the haze finally broke.
In the midst of your pursuit, you happened to step on a hollow, rotted log, and the wood was weak enough that when you put your weight on it, your foot went right through. You shrieked, stumbling forward as you desperately pulled your foot out. To add to your panic, there had been a fair amount of bugs living inside of the log, some of which had attached themselves to your shoe, and you kicked your foot out rapidly to get them off of you. They scattered, and you stumbled back before landing awkwardly on your ankle. Pain shot through you, and you fell against the trunk of a tree where you sank to the forest floor, one hand steadying yourself while the other was over your chest as you tried to calm yourself down.
What the hell am I doing?
The thought struck you. Why had you gone off the trail like this? And for some weird rabbit creature, of all things? What was the point of this excursion? What if you got hurt?
You put some weight on the foot that had gone through the log and you hissed as another sharp bolt of pain hit you.
Scratch that. You'd already managed to hurt yourself.
It seemed like your ankle was sprained. Clearly you had landed on it wrong after getting your foot out of the log.
Ah, this was the worst.
You gingerly removed your shoe and tried to get a look at the damage. It didn't look too bad yet, but there was definitely something wrong with it as you only felt pain every time you moved it. How fast does the swelling set in? At least you'd had the forethought of bringing a few rolls of elastic bandage wraps, though you felt like you'd need some help to get it properly wrapped.
Which meant you'd need to find your way back to your friends.
How far away were you from the trail by now? You weren't even sure how much time had passed since you had left them. It was all so strange, that you had gotten such extreme tunnel vision like that and had run off. And because of that, you had gotten hurt and would have a hard time making your way back, or else they would need to come in to find you.
They'd be upset with you, wouldn't they?
You probably wouldn't be able to continue the hike, and you were sure there'd be some resentment if this outing was cut short because of you. Maybe you could just wait at the rest area? They'd be coming down the same path when they came back, so maybe they could continue the hike and you could rest up and join them on the return trip. It'd be boring for you but then at least the trip wouldn't be a waste for them.
You sighed as you began to shimmy your shoe back onto your foot. Today was a bust. First the thing with Fawn, then the way it seemed like you were being ignored, and now this.
They hadn't even said anything when you jumped the fence to chase after the rabbit, had they? Not that you'd really been paying attention, so maybe they had, but they sure hadn't gone after you.
… Not that it was on them to look after you. You were an adult and therefore not their responsibility. It was wrong to think like that.
You sighed again.
Everything that had happened today really had been your own fault, huh? It was all you could do to hope nothing else bad would happen.
You remembered some old superstitious saying about bad things happening in threes. If that was true, then maybe your bad luck was over for the day.
Trying to get off of that particular train of thought, you looked about for something that could work as a walking stick, something strong enough to hold your weight for when you made your way back to the path.
A voice called out from far away, and when you paused to listen, you heard the voices of your friends calling out your name.
That was actually really good.
A new creeping fear was that you would be lost in the woods and have a hard time finding the path, but as long as they were calling out to you, you could use the sounds of their voices to find your way back. As you were about to push yourself to your feet, you allowed yourself to be a little hopeful, feeling that the bad things were done for the day.
You heard something then, as though something had dropped onto the ground next to you.
In an automatic response, you turned your head towards the sound and found a pipe laying atop the dirt and fallen leaves.
Had that been there earlier?
It was moderately sized, a black stem with a little bit of intricate gold detailing on either end, while the bowl at the end of the pipe was more of a darker bronze.
Wouldn't you have noticed this earlier? Or had you been that distracted when you'd been desperately shaking all of the bugs off of your foot?
Without really thinking about why you reached out to grab it as you wondered to yourself if there were still people these days who smoked using pipes.
It was warm when your fingers made contact, and as you raised it up to inspect it more, you noted how clean it was. If it had been out here for a day or so there would've been more dirt on it, but with the state it was in, someone must have dropped it not too long ago.
At least it gave you some comfort knowing that you weren't the only one who had wandered off the trail, though you were probably still one of the dumbest to do so since you had gone off in chase of a freaky rabbit.
Should you take the pipe with you? Was there some sort of lost and found box down at the parking lot? Would the person who lost it even still be looking for it, or would they have already accepted that it was gone forever?
With those thoughts swirling around your head, you didn't notice the sound of footsteps that came closer until they stopped right next to you.
“Are you alright?”
A man's voice broke you from your thoughts, and when you turned your gaze upwards, you found an older man standing above you, leaning an arm against the same tree trunk you were resting against. White hair, a gray dress shirt with a red tie and wearing black sunglasses despite the clouds overhead, he looked down at you with a clear look of concern on his face.
“Ah – yes! Well, mostly,” you said once you realized he was waiting for an answer.
“Mostly?”
“I think I sprained my ankle.”
He knelt down next to you, asking “may I?” as he motioned to your aforementioned ankle. You nodded, and he inspected your ankle. He was gentle with you, looking over the injured area carefully and apologizing any time he caused you some discomfort.
“How bad is it?” you asked him after a moment.
“I'd say you were right. It looks sprained.”
You groaned a little, disappointed that you were correct.
“Do you have anything to wrap it with?” he asked.
“Yeah, in my backpack,” you answered, “I was gonna get my friends to help me with it once I got back to them.”
“Where are they?”
“Back by the path, I think. It sounded like they were looking for me just now.”
However, you could no longer hear them. In fact, the whole forest seemed oddly silent now, the only exception being the wind that would at times whistle through the trees. And had it gotten darker?
“That's weird,” you said more to yourself, “I know I heard them.”
The man who sat patiently before you, with your ankle still in his care, looked about for any sign of your friends before he spoke again.
“Well, I'm here now,” he told you, “care if I patch you up instead?”
“Um, as long as it isn't too much trouble?”
He smiled at you.
“It's no trouble at all.”
Saying that it would be easier for him to work on you, the man carefully picked you up and moved you so that you sat on a nearby boulder, kneeling down in front of you again as he waited for you to fish out the bandages from your pack.
“I'm Morel, by the way.”
You gave him a small smile in return, introducing yourself as well as you handed off the bandages.
“What are you doing out here?” he asked as he began to wrap up your ankle.
“Hiking with friends.”
“I figured that much,” he said, grinning a little, “but the trail is a good distance from here. How did you end up off of it?”
“Ah....”
Despite the pain in your ankle and the circumstances between you and your friends, it hadn't been lost on you that Morel was pretty handsome. A bit rugged, but in a good way. And though you knew nothing about this man – for all you knew he had a wife and child at home waiting for him – you didn't want to say something that might make him think you were an idiot. Telling him that you had gone chasing after a rabbit would definitely make him think you were an idiot.
And you didn't want to mention that you thought it had no face. Then he'd think you were crazy.
“I saw some ruins down at the base of the mountain; thought it'd be cool if I went exploring and see if I could find some more,” you lied.
“Unfortunately, any ruins would be down at the bottom. Nobody would've built anything this far up,” Morel explained.
“Ah, I see.”
You stayed quiet a moment, looking back in the direction where you'd heard your friends calling. You still couldn't hear them, and it worried you that something may have happened.
There was also that white mist from earlier that had grown thicker while Morel wrapped your ankle, slowly settling down around you and making the scene around you look more ethereal.
“Why did you wander out on your own? One of them should've come with you,” Morel said suddenly.
“Oh.... I kinda, um, ran off without telling them anything.”
So much for not sounding like an idiot.
Morel paused, glancing back up at you as he asked “did something happen?”
“... Not really? I mean, kind of, but...” you trailed off for a moment, “it's mostly my fault. I'm the one who isn't trying hard enough to talk it out with them. Ah, I really hope I haven't ruined this trip.”
“I doubt you running off could've ruined it.”
“I hope not. But still, I'll need to apologize, maybe take all of them out for a meal after to make up for it,” you said.
There was a sad expression on Morel's face when he looked up at you after you said that. Something in the way he frowned and his brows furrowed at your words made it seem like he knew something you didn't.
You didn't get a chance to question him on it as he finished up wrapping your ankle, handing the remaining bandages back to you as he announced “all done.”
“Ah – Thank you.”
He seemed a bit more cheerful now, though he looked off in the direction you had been looking in.
“Those friends of your still on the trail?” he asked.
“I'm not sure? It really did sound like they were looking for me earlier.”
“I see. Then if they're looking for you maybe we should stay put. Wait for them to get to us. It won't do any good if we all get lost trying to find each other.”
That made sense, and you nodded.
Morel sat down next to you, the boulder being large enough to fit both of you, though he did need to squeeze in a bit closer than you would normally be comfortable with a complete stranger. You found that you didn't mind much, though. Although for the sake of your friend group you wanted to be found soon, you didn't dislike the idea of spending more time alone with Morel. He seemed trustworthy, and being in such close contact more than made up for all the stuff from earlier.
…. Good lord. Were you really this weak for a random guy you found attractive?
The mist seemed to be growing thicker, but you could still make out most of the trees that surrounded you.
“What are you doing up here, Morel?” you asked, “it doesn't look like you're dressed for hiking.”
“I live here.”
“Really? On the mountain?”
He nodded.
“Wow. I didn't know anybody lived up here. Is it just you or are there others?”
“There's a few of us up here, though my neighbors tend to keep to themselves,” he told you, “a lot of them just want to be left alone.”
It seemed surprising to you that there was more than one person who lived up on a mountain like this. Especially since you had been under the impression that the area was part of a park. Maybe his place had been built beforehand and he was grandfathered in somehow?
The more you thought about it, the more you felt that didn't make a lot of sense. But before you could voice that opinion, it was like the thought was forcibly torn from your mind, and something within you encouraged you to try and learn more about him.
“Are you one who wants to be left alone?” you asked him instead.
“For the most part,” he answered, “but I don't mind people on occasion. My neighbors, not so much.”
“Would they have gotten mad at me?”
“Definitely.”
“Guess I'm lucky you found me and not them,” you said.
He smiled at that, but didn't say anything, and you continued.
“Although if your neighbors want isolation, isn't it inconvenient that the trail's been set up here? Don't you have to worry about people trespassing?”
“Most people know not to go off the path,” Morel said, “though I guess you're not one of them.”
“It wasn't my fault!” you insisted, “there was a rabbit, and I just - I don't know, needed to follow it.”
Why had you done that again? You'd been questioning it before Morel found you but you'd gotten distracted. It was strange. And did the rabbit really have no face? Maybe your mind was just tired and had made it up or something and you just ran off because you were an idiot.
Where had it even gone, anyway?
Morel tilted his head, smirking at you.
“I thought you said you were looking for more ruins? You mean you were actually chasing after rabbits?” he asked.
….. You forgot that you lied.
Your fingers fiddled with the hem of your shirt while you looked away in embarrassment.
“.... I didn't want you to think I was stupid,” you mumbled.
He laughed at that, and you felt worse about your lie, turning your head away further as you made a point to not look at him.
“Sorry, sorry. I didn't mean it,” he said, one of his hands coming up to playfully tousle your hair. You glanced back at him then, and the sour look on your face lessened a little when you saw how he smiled at you.
“I've also gone off wandering after random things,” he continued, “I've hurt myself a few times, too, so don't feel bad.”
That made you feel a bit better, and you relaxed a little more.
“What kind of things have you gone wandering after?” you asked him.
“Things that you probably wouldn't believe if I told you.”
That answer was oddly cryptic, though you supposed that made two of you, since you were still too nervous to divulge the fact about the rabbit lacking a face. Maybe Morel had seen freakier things up here. But since he didn't seem to want to go into that, maybe it'd be better to steer the conversation away from the potentially supernatural.
“Were you wandering after something when you found me?” was your next question.
“No, not today. I was in the middle of looking for something I had lost.”
“Oh. Sorry,” you said.
“For what?”
“Distracting you, and making you wait here with me.”
“It's not that important,” Morel said, “and what kind of guy would I be if I left you out here by yourself? Especially with that fog that's settling in.”
“I'd probably be okay. Oh. Unless there's bears. Then I might not be.”
You remembered the shape you had seen when you had first arrived, and you asked him “are there bears on this mountain?”
“I've never seen any.”
You hummed at that, thinking again about what you had seen and trying to figure out what it was.
“Did you see one?” asked Morel.
“I don't know. I saw something weird when I was in the parking lot, and I'm still not sure what it was,” you explained, “I've seen some other stuff, too. Some a bit more freaky than a bear.”
“Like what?”
“.... Do you promise not to laugh at me?”
“I promise, I'm done laughing at you,” Morel said, grinning a little.
Despite being unsure if you could trust him in that regard, you decided to speak anyway.
“So, the rabbit that I saw earlier – I'm not really sure why I followed it, but I noticed it back at the rest area. It seemed kinda weird when I saw it, because it didn't look like it was breathing? And when I got closer, I swear, it didn't have a face. No features at all. It was just blank.”
You prepared yourself for him to laugh at you again. When he didn't say anything, you looked back to him.
Morel looked surprisingly neutral.
“That does sound strange,” was his reply.
“.... Do you believe me?”
Morel looked away from you, leaning back on his hands as his gaze seemed to go to the cloudy sky above the trees that surrounded the two of you.
“You know, I think I do. Living up here, I've had my fair share of strange occurrences. Not quite like that, but maybe I just haven't encountered that before.”
It was a relief to hear that he wasn't mocking you, and it was even more of a relief that he actually believed you, as you had been worried that his reaction might resemble what had happened earlier with Aiden and Fawn. Him believing you spurred you to speak more.
“I saw something before, too,” you said, “down near the ruins, at one point I thought I saw a man standing next to them. But when I looked up from my camera he was gone.”
“What did he look like?”
“Not sure. I saw him, but I somehow didn't really see him? Or I just saw his general shape,” you continued, “the others were joking that it was a ghost.”
“Could've been,” said Morel, “this is ancient land with a lot of older things attached to it. There are probably more than a few wayward souls that have found a home here.”
“..... Do you think they could be dangerous?” you asked him.
“Maybe some of them. But most people should be safe if they stay on the path.”
He grinned again when he looked back at you.
“Who knows. You could've come across something bad,” he said jokingly.
“Don't you and your neighbors live up here? It can't be all that bad if that's the case,” you responded, “though I think I'll try to keep from chasing after anymore weird rabbits.”
“Probably a good idea.”
A comfortable silence settled over the two of you. The mist had expanded as you continued to wait for your friends, who you hadn't heard in some time now. It should've worried you more that you couldn't hear them – they hadn't given up on you, had they? Even if they were really annoyed with you they surely wouldn't go that far. Yet you found yourself thinking even if that was the case, it would be okay. Morel was so nice, he wouldn't just leave you here if they didn't show up, right? At the very least, he'd take you back to the trail.
If your friends had bailed on you, then maybe you should repay him by taking him out to dinner.
The tops of the trees were slowly becoming more obscured as the fog continued to drift down, and all you could think was that it looked pretty.
“Is it nice living up here?” you asked him.
“Yeah, pretty nice. Lots of good scenery.”
He seemed to be thinking about something, and you noticed that his shoulders sagged slightly.
“Being completely alone can get to you, though.”
There was a sadness in his voice. He did say that him wanting to be alone was just 'for the most part'. Unless that was a lie. What sort of circumstance could drive him to be living alone in the wilderness if he didn't actually want to be here? You wanted to know, but worried that might be crossing a boundary of some sort, and that made you hesitate to question him further.
“Do you not want to be here?” you asked him softly.
“No, I do,” said Morel, “but I also liked being around people. It just became hard to be around them after a while.”
“Hard to be around them?” you repeated.
“Yeah. It's.... It's just tough to explain,” he said.
“Sorry.”
He shook his head.
“Don't worry about it.”
It confused you, and while you wanted to ask a few more questions, you got a sense that he didn't want to talk about it anymore.
You found yourself wondering if Morel suffered from some extreme form of anxiety or agoraphobia. He seemed like a pretty calm person, but maybe that was only because he was in an environment where he was comfortable. That could have made sense, although you mentally berated yourself shortly after for jumping to conclusions like that just because he didn't want to talk about it. Maybe you should try to move the topic to something else.
“Does anyone come up to visit you?” you asked.
“No.”
Ah. Okay then.
“Then...” you trailed off briefly as you tried to find the right words, “ as long as it isn't too hard to be around me, would you care if I came back to visit you? I could repay you with all you've done for me with a dinner. Maybe bring it by next week or something like that?”
Morel smiled at that, and yet to you it seemed forced. You got another sense that he knew something that you didn't, and that he was intentionally keeping that information from you.
What would he know that he'd be keeping from you?
The thought left your head just as quickly as it entered when he spoke again.
“I guess I could handle having you stop by,” he said jokingly, “you're pretty tolerable.”
“Ah, that's good. Glad to know I can at least be tolerated,” you answered back in a similar joking manner.
He chuckled at that.
“All jokes aside, it'll be nice to have some company up here,” he said softly.
It felt good that he accepted you so easily. Maybe he accepted you a little too easily given the short amount of time he had known you, but if he was living up here all by himself maybe he was just that desperate.
And the argument could also be made that you were similarly being too trusting of him. It was possible that this was just a facade of his that would drop the instant you were vulnerable. That'd probably be what Colton would tell you if he knew the thoughts going around your head.
Although you were already pretty vulnerable, weren't you? Alone in the wilderness with a man you just met and a sprained ankle, so you weren't even able to run if you needed to. Even with your friends that were hopefully close by, with Morel's size it would've been easy enough for him to drag you off if he wanted. Helping you, sitting down and waiting with you for your friends just to gain your trust seemed to be a bit too much effort if his ultimate goal was to take you away.
You forced down those silly, anxious thoughts of yours. Morel wouldn't hurt you, you were certain of it.
The mist around the two of you was growing thicker still, but you didn't pay it much mind as you looked back down to your lap.
Something was sticking out of the front pocket of your jacket, and then you remembered that you still had that pipe you had found this whole time, having absentmindedly stuck it into your pocket when Morel moved you earlier. A thought then occurred to you as you looked at it again.
“This wouldn't be yours, would it?” you asked him as you pulled it out to show him.
Looking down at it, you noted that he didn't seem too surprised as he said to you “it would, actually.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. That's what I was looking for when I came across you,” Morel said.
“Huh. That's some weird coincidence,” you said as you extended your hand out to give him the pipe.
“It happens,” he said. He thanked you as he took it from you, pocketing it before his hands went back to where they had been before.
There was no urgency within you as you continued to sit with Morel, the mist still swirling and settling around the two of you. The more the mist grew, the more the thoughts of your friends and the worries within you began to slip away.
You had nothing to worry about.
Had you been paying more attention to him, you would've seen Morel stiffen ever so slightly, maybe even heard him curse under his breath as he sensed something that was now in the general vicinity. But you only noticed when he stood up suddenly, hands on his hips as he turned to face you.
“Hate to say it, but this fog'll probably only get worse. I'm not sure it's a good idea to keep waiting here,” he told you.
It had seemed to become exponentially worse as soon as he spoke those words, the fog that had been fairly moderate now surprisingly thick, to the point that you had a hard time making out the trees that were closest to you. Somehow you hadn't noticed just how bad it was until now.
“Ah. Yeah, you're right,” you said, “I think I remember which direction the trail is in. I should be able to make it back on my own.”
“What – no, that's not...”
Morel was rather flustered now, a hand running through his hair as he continued “even if you can make it back there, I doubt you'll have an easy time going down those stairs with your ankle like that. And with how hard it is to see right now, there's a 100% chance that you'll end up falling.”
You nodded, though you weren't certain where he was going. It seemed like a lot to ask him to walk you back in such circumstances, and far, far too much to have him take you back down the mountain.
“Since we're not sure what happened with your friends, I think the best thing I can do is take you back to my place for the time being.”
That hadn't been what you were expecting, and you opened your mouth to second-guess that idea until he spoke again.
“Just until the fog clears,” he assured you, “and this way you can get some actual rest inside instead of sitting out in the cold like this.”
… Morel's proposal seemed a lot nicer, you had to admit.
“I guess,” you began, “as long as you're sure it isn't too much trouble.”
He smiled at you as he said “I promise, it isn't.”
Any worries that this may be overstepping some kind of boundary faded from your mind after his reassurance, and you looked about the forest again.
“I guess we should try to find something for me to use as a walking stick,” you said, squinting your eyes when the fog proved to be too thick to see clearly, “unless you're okay with me leaning on you.”
“I've got a better idea.”
With that, Morel turned around and knelt down, his arms stretched out behind his back as he said “I'll carry you.”
After assuring you that this way would be faster, it didn't take much for you to take him up on his offer. After you made sure not to put any weight on your ankle while you climbed onto his back, Morel slowly lifted you up after he had your legs secured around his waist and you loosely held on around his neck.
With the sensation of you being pressed against him, of your warmth and virtually feeling the way your heart was steadily beating against his back, Morel let out a quiet, relieved sigh as he began the trek back to his home. He was grateful that you hadn't questioned him or tried to insist that he take you back to the trail anyway. If he hadn't been able to convince you, he'd need to take you by force. Such a thing would have been easy for him to do, and it was probably more common for those like him to take their captured humans while they kicked and screamed.
But he didn't want to traumatize you during the journey to your new home.
Luckily his aura that had been slowly engulfing you was able to influence you enough that you weren't questioning him on much, so the trip would be a peaceful one, although it was marred by how dishonest he was being about all of this.
If only he could just sit you down and explain everything, why he was doing this. But he knew you wouldn't believe him.
No reasonable person would believe him if he told them he was a banshee.
Saying that would only make you feel unsafe, maybe try to run from him, and then you'd end up even more injured in the process, and even more upset when you found that you could no longer leave the mountain.
But even that would be better than the alternative.
Morel just didn't like seeing people die.
The role of a banshee was to warn when death was coming. To let out that unearthly wail so the human marked for death could prepare and make peace with their fate. For Morel, when he saw someone who was marked to die, it looked like a cloud had settled around them. An aura that grew darker and darker as the human came closer to the time of their death until the aura had blackened completely. Then Death came to collect that unfortunate's soul.
And Morel was unable to do anything but give a heads up.
It was depressing. Being part of that cycle, watching as human after human had that cloud around them turn black and vanish as it left their lifeless bodies behind. And during the last years he had spent in the heavily populated areas, he found that more and more people were panicking when they heard his warning as a fear of death had grown stronger as time had gone by. The people who feared for their lives did everything in their power to try and prevent their deaths, and more often than not their attempts to thwart death ended up being what caused it. All because they had heard his warning.
It began to feel as though he was the one responsible for those who had died that way, and that felt even more depressing, to know that they had died because of him. By the end, Morel had grown tired of it all.
So he left.
He left the areas that were overrun with humans and found a home on an ancient mountainside. And for a while, he found some peace.
But time moved forward as it always did, and evidently, people forgot what areas were meant to stay sacred when they put together the hiking trail. It had angered many of his neighbors, but most were compelled to stay away from it and leave the humans alone as long as they stayed on the path.
And yet some of them couldn't do that, and on occasion the ones that strayed would run into some of the more malevolent spirits that resided on the mountain alongside him. He could usually tell when someone would die to the supernatural. The aura about them just had a certain feel to it, but Morel chose to stay out of it completely, not wanting to cause problems with his neighbors.
Even after trying to get away, he was still forced to see that cloud of death.
It was no different when he saw you after you first arrived.
Morel had happened to be at the base of the mountain when he saw you, the death cloud around you one shade off of completely black. You'd be dead before the end of the day. Perhaps during your trip in the woods, he had thought to himself. Yet as he observed you more, he felt that wouldn't be the case. Something told him that you would make it through this hiking trip of yours, but you would die almost immediately after. You seemed pretty healthy, so illness didn't appear to be the cause. An accident, then? That would be more likely. While he couldn't determine what exactly was going to happen, whatever it was would be sudden and violent.
Looking at the rest of your group, he found that none of them were marked for death like you were. Whatever happened after you all left, you would be the only one to die.
Something compelled Morel to keep watch over you, and so he followed behind, listening in on the conversations your friends were having and waiting for you to speak up.
You weren't saying much, however, and when he moved off the trail to walk beside you so he could get a better look at your face, he was taken aback by how dejected you seemed.
Something was eating at you, but you were keeping quiet about it as you continued to follow behind, almost unnoticed by the others in your group.
Your last hours of life were going to be spent with you feeling ignored and lonely, and that depression Morel felt when it came to these things returned. You shouldn't need to die today; you should've had years left of your life, not a scant few hours. It wasn't right, but there was nothing he could do.
Or was there?
An idea came to Morel, and he became lost in his own thoughts as he found himself walking away from the trail as your group came closer to the stairs. He made his way towards what had been a chapel for some long-forgotten deity, mulling over the thought in his head.
There was something he could do to alter your fate, both him and the magic still in the mountain powerful enough to allow him to lay a claim on you. But was it worth angering Death itself to keep you safe?
As he contemplated what to do, he looked back to you.
You had taken your phone out, holding it in a way that made it clear you were aiming to get a picture of the ruins he just so happened to be standing next to.
It took less than a second for him to realize what had happened when you blinked in surprise and took your eyes off of your phone.
You could see him.
You may not have been aware of it, but your eyes met his in that moment. Based off how you looked him over, you weren't able to see him all that clearly, but he could still tell when your eyes met again as you tried to make out any features of his face.
Then one of the people from your group called out and you looked away, and Morel made himself vanish. The confusion was clear when your head turned back and found him to be gone, and you ended up following your group again with your brows furrowed.
It was something that happened on occasion with certain people, another confirmation that you were close to death: as your final hour drew near, the barrier between you and the spiritual realm was thinning and you were beginning to see things that you weren't meant to.
When you looked back one more time, you managed to look in the exact spot where he had been standing, though this time he made sure you couldn't see him. He felt the way your eyes met his again before you turned your head back, that black cloud of death still engulfing you.
Something about your situation and that sight made Morel snap.
Screw fate. He needed to save you.
As he made his decision and began to follow you in earnest, a part of him was aware that saving you wouldn't do anything for the countless people that died every day, but he felt that if he could save at least one person from an unfair and untimely death, he could live better with himself. If he could keep you alive and happy, it was worth it.
He'd been worried that luring you away with the rabbit wouldn't work. You were far enough along that you could see it for what it really was: a creation that he'd made out of mist and smoke. Yet during the time you had spent getting up to the rest area, he had expanded his aura around you for long enough that any reservations you may have had about the slightly horrifying thing before you were easily pushed to the side as he compelled you to go after his creation, to get you further into the woods and by yourself.
He hadn't planned on you getting injured in the process, and when he heard your friends calling for you sooner than he expected he threw his pipe next to you in an act of desperation and just hoped that you would grab it. As long as you picked up something that belonged to him of your own free will, then you would belong to him.
You had done just that. And therefore, he was now free to do whatever he pleased with you.
“Is there a reason why we need to get to your place fast?” you asked him as he carried you back.
“You see how thick the fog is, right? I need to get us there before I lose my way,” Morel said, “can't embarrass myself like that, can I?”
Actually he just wanted to get out of there because of the other being that had been approaching the two of you. As much as he was able to hold influence over you, you would no doubt panic if you saw a headless woman sitting astride a horse casually come up to you.
“That makes sense,” you said. Then you giggled a little to yourself.
“I'm still mad that you laughed at me earlier,” you told him, “so if you do get lost, then I'm allowed to laugh at you.”
“Fair enough. If I get us lost you can laugh at me,” he agreed.
You laughed a little bit more.
“I won't actually do that. If we do get lost I'll probably be more concerned with trying to keep calm.”
“Don't worry; I know this mountain like the back of my hand,” he assured you.
If you had really been thinking about it, you might have questioned him on that. If he knew his way around that well, why couldn't he take you back to the trail? Why was he insisting on taking you back to his home?
But with the way his aura was enveloping you completely, no such thoughts came to mind, and you instead softly rested your head against him, feeling content.
You were rather easy to influence, and that fact made Morel feel badly for manipulating you the way he was.
He'd make it up to you, he told himself. He'd done good by wrapping up your ankle, and now he'd take care of you.
Glancing back at you, he felt satisfied to see that the black cloud of death had vanished. You no longer needed to fear anything like that.
You belonged to him now, and Morel would keep you safe for the rest of eternity.
#reader insert#morel x reader#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere hxh#morel mackernasey#morel#yandere hunter x hunter#monster au
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Friends With Benefits - Daniel Ricciardo
Requested by: Anon.
Request: Hey! Could you please write Daniel Ricciardo x reader where the reader and Dan are friends with benefits but then she gets pregnant and freaks out and thinks maybe Dan wouldn't want to have a child with her because he isn't ready for a family yet and he's this popular f1 driver while she's just a normal girl. So she decided to completely ghost him and raise the child on her own but one of their common friend tells Dan about the child and then Dan confronts the reader that he has actually fallen in love with her and wants to have a family.
Sorry, this sounds very specific. 🤣😅 I absolutely love your imagines btw! 💖💖
A/N: Before you start reading... it starts with smut, okay.
Banner: Pictures belogn to their rightful owners, banner made by me.
Warnings: Angst, fluff, friends with benefits relationship, unprotected sex (Be safe, be smart, be protected), mention of bruising, explicit language, unexpected pregnancy, ghosting.
W/C: 2 665
T/L: @hannahlfleming //
The room felt warm as Daniel thrust into her, sweat coated their skin with the warm temperature surrounding them, the sound of skin slapping against skin along with the sound of her wetness filled the room, load groans from Daniel was the only other sound that bounced off the walls, [Y/n] was in pure bliss but lost in her own thoughts for a moment as well, she could feel his throbbing cock sliding long her wall as they clenched around him, her nails dug into the skin on his back.
It has almost been two years since she and Daniel had started their agreement, they’ve been friends for over eight years and decided to start seeing each other, but only for pleasure, nothing but pleasure for the both of them, neither wanted anything serious at that time and decided to start up their meetups, but as time passed, feelings started to build up, and it wasn’t long before [Y/n] realized she had fallen in love with her friend, but she would never utter a word out loud, afraid that wouldn’t feel the same, afraid that he could end their friendship, so each time he called or left a message, asking her to come over, she agreed while also feeling a slight pang in her heart, would there ever be a chance for them to be more than just friends with benefits.
“You’re too damn quiet.” The sound of Daniel’s voice right next to her ear made her snap out of her thoughts, his thrusts were hard and deep, causing the headboard the hit the wall repeatedly. “Don’t be shy, you’re never shy, I want to hear you scream my name, [Y/n].” The length of his cock brushes against the most sensitive spot inside her, feeling his veins on his cock move along her walls caused her to clench around him.
“I think you might have lost your touch.” [Y/n] breathes out in a teasing tone, Daniel harshly snaps his hips into hers. “FUCK!” The feeling of his cock filling her caused pleasure to course through her veins.
“I lost my touch?” He growls into her ear. “[Y/n], I don’t lose my touch, not with you.” His hand slides along her thigh before moving to the back of her knee, he lifts her leg up and placed it over his shoulder causing his cock to slip deep into to her.
“Fu… ck.” [Y/n] gasps out as she presses her head into the pillows, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as her eyelids fall shut, her hands fall away from his back and onto to the bed, twisting the sheets between her fingers as she pulls at it, she could feel her legs starting to shake as the knot in her abdominal tightens.
“I can’t believe you would lie to my face like that.” He whispers in her ear, his lips brushing over her earlobe as he spoke, he lifts his hips, slowly sliding out of her, stopping before the head of his cock could slip out. “You’re unbelievable.” He snaps his hips forward, causing the bed to move away from the headboard after it had hit it.
“DANIEL!” She screams out as fireworks went off behind her eyelids, the euphoric feeling washes over her body as legs shake with pleasure, Daniel’s eyes roll to the back of his head as he feels her release around his cock, the feeling of her wet warm walls pulsing around him. “DANIEL, FUCK, OH GO—“ He continues to thrust into her as he feels himself edging closer to his release, his thrusts became irregular and sloppy, he throws his head back as a sudden burst of energy goes through his cock as he releases inside her, coating her walls with his warm cum, it was only then when his thrusts stopped, both of them breathing hard.
☆→★→☆→★→☆→★→☆→★→
[Y/n] sits on her toilet seat in her bathroom, staring at the plastic stick in her hands, she had missed her last period but thought nothing of it at first, but then she started feeling nauseous and slowly started noticing a change in her body, at first she didn’t want to believe it, she didn’t want to believe that it could have happened, but the more her mind raced with the thought as she was on her way to the pharmacy to buy a test, the more it started to make sense.
They had become more reckless during their rendezvous nights, using fewer precautions and less protection, it was bound to happen, but how could she not have thought about this, about the outcome, where and when did she stop taking the precautions, the morning after pill.
[Y/n] runs her fingers through her hair, pushing some of them back, but they only fell into her face again, she had been sitting in the same position for hours now, just staring at the positive pregnancy test in her hand, Daniel is a Formula 1 driver, and a popular once, loved by many and wanted by many fans as well, would he even want a child right now?
“Dammit!” She shouts as she stood from the toilet seat, she placed the stick on the bathroom counter. “He doesn’t need a baby to distract him, I mean, he probably doesn’t even want a baby, fuck, [Y/n]… fucking, stupid, stupid!” She exits the bathroom, her heart pounding in her ears. “What the hell am I going to do?” Her phone dings, signalling that she had received a message, she steps closer to her bed and saw Daniel’s name before the screen went black. “Fucking hell.” She picks up her phone, her finger hovering over the screen, debating if she should open it or not. “Dammit, [Y/n].” She turns her phone off and drops it back onto the bed.
“He doesn’t need this distraction, he has a career to focus on…” She moves towards the full-length mirror in her bedroom, she stops in front of it and places her hands on her abdomen, feeling the small bump that had formed over the past couple of weeks. “I can’t tell him… Can I?” Her eyes lower down to her abdomen. “It is his child… I should tell him.” She looks back up at her face. “No, no, he can’t know, he doesn’t have time for a family… he’s not ready to have one yet.” She moves away from the mirror. “I mean, he’s a worldwide famous driver, and what am I?” She breathes out. “I’m just normal, gosh, I’m too plain for him, why would he want to….” A pout forms on her lips. “Gosh, stop it, [Y/n], stop it.” She sits down on the edge of her bed. “I’m going to have to raise this baby on my own, I just have to…”
☆→★→☆→★→☆→★→☆→★→
Several weeks passed by and [Y/n] had been ignoring all of Daniel’s messages and calls, she also avoided all the places they usually met up or hanged out as well, she even started going to different stores to avoid accidentally running into him, and for weeks she had been successful at it, but she never stopped to think that she might run into one of their mutual friends at one of the stores, and it just so happened to be Michael, his personal trainer and a very good friend to both of them.
“[Y/n]?” Michael’s voice called out once he spots her, he had seen her many times and could easily tell when it was her and when it wasn’t, she places the pack of pasta back onto the shelf and glances around her before seeing him approaching her, it would take too long the turn the shopping cart around and dash into the opposite direction, if he even caught sight of her trying to escape, he would run towards her and stop her, she could always leave it behind.
“No… no, I need these things.” She mutters to herself before taking in a deep breath, she faintly smiles at him. “Michael, Hi.” He stops a few steps away from her, ready to ask why she hadn’t been around in a while and why she had been ignoring Daniel.
“It’s been a while.” He says as his eyes move over her, taking in her appearance before his eyes stop on her lower stomach, his eyes move a little lower and notice her feet, his eyes move back up to her face, she knew that he wasn’t an idiot, he was a professional trainer and trainer for medical emergencies, he was most likely also trained to notice the signs and with the way his expression changed, she knew that he knew. “Do you want to tell me or are you going to le the guess why you’ve been ghosting Daniel?”
“I think you already know, so you don’t even have to guess.” She says. “I’d make a fool out of myself if I tried to lie to you because you can clearly see the signs.” He lets out a sigh and nods his head.
“I want you to confirm it.” He says, she sucks in a deep breath between her teeth while nodding her head, she brings her hand to her head and runs her fingers through her hair.
“I’m pregnant.” She says. “And before you ask, it’s his.”
“So why are you avoiding him?” He asks. “He has the right to know about his child.”
“He’s a worldwide famous formula 1 driver, and what am I, Michael?” She suddenly spits out. “A nobody!” She answers before he could open his mouth to respond. “Does he even want a family right now? Because he’s so busy with his career and travelling around to do his job, I’m sure that he doesn’t need the distraction!”
“You wouldn’t know unless you ask yourself, will you?” He asks. ‘His answer might surprise you, he might just want a family with you.” The number of nights Michael had to listen to Daniel confess his undying love for [Y/n] and how he would do it the net time he sees her, and then end up never doing it, and for the past few weeks, it had become more frequent. “He deserves to know, and you know that.” [Y/n] lets out a huff as she feels tears beginning to build up in her eyes.
“You’re going to tell him, aren’t you?” She asks as she avoids eye contact, looking at everything, except at him.
“He deserves to know, and you’ve had weeks to tell him,” Michael says. “I wondered why you suddenly disappeared from all our gathering, I understand now… you knew that I would notice it.” Her mind slowly became overrun with guilt. “You know, you can’t decide for someone else, you can’t decide if he’s ready or not, or if he wants a family or not, that is his choice.” She slowly nods her head as she feels her tears slide down her cheeks, his words sinking in. “Get home safely, I’m sure Daniel will be there tonight.”
She couldn’t stop him, he was right, she had weeks to tell him, but she was too scared of his reaction, and she was a coward for letting Michael tell Daniel, but she would chicken out at the last minute and decide not to tell him, and he seemed to know that, but the truth had to come out, and she had to face the consequences.
☆→★→☆→★→☆→★→☆→★→
The sound of her heart pounding loudly in her ears was the only thing she heard as she approached the door, she had expected him to show up right after Michael broke the news to him, and had been preparing herself ever since she returned to her apartment, but no matter how long she prepared herself, she would never really be prepared for the confrontation.
Time felt like it had slowed down as she neared the door, her footsteps felt slow, and it felt like it took her hours to reach the door, she wasn’t sure if she was moving that slowly or if it was her nerves messing around with her, her hands shakily unlocks the door before grabbing the doorknob and twisting it open, a cool breeze blows into her apartment before she was met with Daniel’s musk, her eyes slowly move up his torso before meeting his dark brown eyes, usually they were filled with joy and warmth, but right now, they were covered with concerns and nervousness, maybe even a hint of anger, she takes in a deep breath, breathing in the scent of him, the scent that she missed so much.
“Daniel.” She breathes out.
“[Y/n].” He says, she steps out of the way and allows him to enter her apartment, she closes the door once he was inside and slowly turns around to face him. “Michael told me.” He says as he turns around to look at her, she nods her head and brings one hand to her other arm, wrapping her hand around her elbow, squeezing it nervously. “Is it true?” She nods her head once again.
“Yes.” Her voice was quiet as she spoke.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asks, his voice much louder than before. “Is this why you’ve been ignoring me?” She takes her bottom lip between teeth and nervously nibbles on it. “Dammit, [Y/n]!” Her eyes meet his. “It’s like you don’t know me at all!”
“I didn’t want to disrupt your life with a baby!” She suddenly says, her voice louder than before. “I just thought it would be better if I just disappeared and raise the baby on my own.”
“Why would you even think that?” He asks. “Why would you even think that I want you to disappear? You should have told me, asked me if I wanted you out of my life or not.” She shifts her weight onto one leg as her eyes fall to the floor below. “I don’t want you out of my life, I don’t want you to disappear, I want, no, I need you in my life, with our baby, with our child.” She lifts her head to look at him, shock at his words, she had been preparing herself for the worst, never once thinking that he would want her, want them. “Do you know how much I’ve missed you these past few weeks? I thought I did something to upset you, to make you mad at me.”
“Do… do you really… want this… want us?” She asks, her voice shaking as she spoke.
“I do.” He says. “Do you want me, do you want me to be part of your life, of our child’s life?”
“Yes, of course!” She quickly says. “Of course I want you to be part of our lives, I was afraid that you didn’t want to be… I mean, Daniel, you’re you, a world-famous driver, and I’m just plain old me.”
“And what’s wrong with being you? Being plain?” He asks. “You’re everything I want, [Y/n]. He takes a step towards her cueing her to swallow, her mouth suddenly feeling dry. “It’s been years since we started our arrangement, and I ended up falling for you, breaking our only rule, but I know for a fact that you’ve fallen for me as well.” He moves closer to her. “And don’t even try to tell me I’m wrong, because I know I’m not.” He gently pushes her up against the door. “Let me be part of your life, of our baby’s life, because I want this, I want you, I want a family with you.” He leans closer to her. “Because I fucking love you, and I don’t plan on leaving you or our kid behind for my career.” She stares into his eyes. “Do you want me?” she licks her lips.
“Yes.” Was the only answer he needed before he brushed his lips against hers, kissing her deeply and with passion, he would make sure to remind her each day, that he wanted her and nobody else.
#imagine#imagines#oneshot#oneshots#one shot#one shots#smut#smuts#daniel ricciardo imagine#daniel ricciardo imagines#daniel ricciardo oneshot#daniel ricciardo oneshots#daniel ricciardo one shot#daniel ricciardo one shots#daniel ricciardo smut#daniel ricciardo smuts#f1 imagine#f1 imagines#f1 oneshot#f1 oneshots#f1 one shot#f1 one shots#f1 smut#f1 smuts
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Rest Easy My Love, I’ll Always Be Your Favorite Girl.
Series: KPOP Girl Group: 이달의 소녀 (LOONA).
Pairing: Jung Jinsol & Orbit Female Reader.
Summary: Jung Jinsol had always loved her group’s fans, every single one of their supporters that she had met were all lovable—no matter if she was their favorite member or not. But among the several new faces she’d seen in their online meet & greets, a particular girl who Jinsol had always used to frequently see in their fan sign events had made the list for the meetup. In which Y/L/N Y/N was just like any other Orbit, living her life when she earns a scolding from her bias for not meeting up as much as they used to, along with Y/N receiving an unexpected gift with her signed copy of their album.
“Is that you Guppy? Ah, I can’t believe you’re trying to hide—I can see you clearly from way over here!”
You covered your face in embarrassment as the girl’s voice boomed through the speakers of the venue, with your body leaned to the side in attempt to conceal yourself further—though you could distinctly hear several fans beside you snickering and trying to call for the member’s attention. At this point, you could only wonder about what you’ve done in your past life to deserve such an oddly close relationship with your idol—along with the fact that she had never seemed to have changed with how she treated you since your second fan sign event.
But the idol didn’t seem too concerned about her interaction with you as she sat back down on her chair, placing her mic on the table with a grin set on her lips while fixing the blanket on her lap. You could only breathe in a relieved sigh when you sat back up to watch your favorite member fiddle with her mic, how she looked completely as if she belonged in the spot light—a soft smile on her lips as she scanned the crowd carefully and gave a few poses for the cameras that were directed at her along the way. The sight had always seemed to have strike a meaningful flashback to all of the other fan sign events you’ve met her in, but one particular fond memory would hit harder than the others—and it happens whenever you’d lock eyes with Jinsoul from your chair as you waited for your turn.
It was the first fan signing event you’ve attended after deciding that you had finally wanted to meet her in person.
A huge part of you wished that you had been there from the start, but you’ve only started to become their fan around Odd Eye Circle’s Mix & Match promotions—it wasn’t that late but still, you could’ve been there for her very first fan signing event. But the regretful thoughts were quick to wash away once you’ve entered the room, finding the girl sitting there in between Kim Lip and Choerry as she donned a vest in your favorite color—looking exactly the same in real life as in her music videos. And if that wasn’t enough to knock the breath right out of your lungs—she was even more ethereal once you were sat in front of her, a cheesy grin set on her lips as she leaned on the desk to scan your face thoughtfully.
“Hello! I’ve never seen you before.”
“You’re my favorite girl.”
And just like that, as much as the memory was special moment—it was also one of the most awkward encounters you had ever had in your life, with you blurting the words out as if you’ve only meant to say it in your head for it to only come right out of your mouth. You could still feel the blood rushing to your cheeks as Jinsoul sat in front of you, blinking while Choerry and Kim Lip turned to look at the two of you with the biggest smirks plastered across their lips.
“I see.. Alright then, who exactly am I writing for?” Jinsol popped her pen cap open, looking back down on your album with a smile still playing on her lips before she noticed that you weren’t replying—making her look up at your flushed features expectantly as you debated what you’d want her to write. Through your blushing state, you told her to just write the initials of your name which made her raise a brow but then deciding to just do it anyway before drawing an emoticon with it’s tongue sticking out—finishing the signature with a bunch of hearts around your initials before she looked up to find you just staring down thoughtfully at the album in her hands.
You didn’t even catch your idol’s endearing gaze set on your shy features even as you moved onto your time with Kim Lip, who seemed to be easier for you to talk to just like Choerry—but the girl kept teasing you which made you sit through your entire meeting all flustered and charmed at how beautiful she was inside and out. The first fan signing event went along with Jinsol’s gaze from your peripheral vision whenever you refused to look her straight in the eyes, and even as they left—she turned around to give you a shy wave which sent your heart summersaulting inside of you.
And with the second fan meeting, it was indeed the last confirmation you needed before choosing the girl as your favorite artist out of anyone out there.
“No, I’ve thought of a name for you—not that I think that it’s better than your initials but..” even before she could tell you what exact it was that she named you, Jinsoul quickly scribbled her chosen name for you under your initials that were written by Heejin. A satisfied grin set on her lips as she leaned back to stare at her art which made you lean over to find the word “구피” written on the cover with a small fish drawing at the end, making you tilt your head in confusion before looking back up at the beaming idol in puzzlement. The moment you’ve left the venue and sat in front of your computer, you quickly typed the name in the search bar to find it’s meaning—only to find that it was a fish, most commonly known to be the “Rainbow Fish”.
And also, one of the very few fish that you can have in the same aquarium as a betta fish.
Actually, it was the most optimal fish to be in the same space as a betta.
That night, you leaned back on your chair as you stared at the signed album in a completely dazed state—thinking about how Jinsoul didn’t just pick a simple nickname for you.
But your favorite girl gave you a pet name.
And now there you sat in LOONA’s nth fan meeting, still feeling the same exact nervousness from your first event as you watched the chair in front of Heejin slowly become unoccupied—the fan moving to meet Hyunjin as you were motioned over by their manager to occupy the recently vacated seat.
“Y/N! You’ve dyed your hair, it really suits you—ah, it’s your favorite color. Of course it’ll fit you.” Heejin didn’t even have to ask your name as she scribbled it down on the cover, making it a bit smaller—knowing that Jinsol would always somehow write her name for you at the end.
“Don’t you ever get tired of Jinsoul-unnie? Have you ever thought of going to our fan signs for another member—like me, maybe?” Hyunjin teased which made you squirm in your seat in no time and Heejin laughing loudly next to her, hitting her best friend with both hands while Hyunjin leaned over the table to stare at you in anticipation.
“Ah! I knew it was you! Your hair looks so pretty—I bet Jinsoul would love it too! But what about that post of yours, the one where you were trying to convince people to stream Hyunjin’s ‘Around You’ MV—how’d that go?” Haseul’s eyes twinkled as she remembered what you told her in the last event—after she asked you what you’ve been doing since the meeting before, to which you just scratched the back of your neck at before replying that you suppose only time will tell.
Yeojin stood from her spot to compare heights with you—which she always had done every fan sign after she had the idea that you grew taller every fan meeting—and with Vivi reminding you to bring extra layers on the next venue because she heard that the place had a history of a malfunctioning air conditioning system. You’ve barely finished speaking to Vivi when you heard a mic being tapped from the speakers, Jinsol’s low voice checking if her mic was on before she leaned over to peek over to you while you nodded along to Vivi’s gentle words.
“Y/N! Hurry up!”
Kim Lip cackled next to the older member as you side-eyed the impatient blonde who was now impatiently fiddling with her mic, turning to look at the fan that previously sat in front of her—seated in front of Choerry while the younger OEC member giggled at the pouting blonde. Jinsol had just finished speaking to the next fan that was right before you when she started to whine like a child that wanted your attention as you sat in front of Kim Lip, leaned over as the member reached over to pat your head once you told her you’ve finished the work you’ve mentioned before that you were stressing over.
“You’ve worked hard, our Y/N~”
“Our!? Hey! She's here for me!” Jinsol taunted Kim Lip who just smiled at you as if the needy member didn’t exist, to which you could only smile apologetically to the OEC Leader at before standing up from your seat to look at a smug looking Jinsoul who was now leaned back on her chair—arms crossed and a brow raised as she attempted to look intimidating after all the whining she had done previously.
“You dyed your hair without asking me first? And here I thought I was special.” you grinned at the girl before playing along, glancing down at the colored strands of your hair before humming and looking up in thought.
“Oh? It was spontaneous, I didn’t think you’d be this much against it. I could always dye it back if it bothers you that much..” Jinsol snorted before leaning on the desk to pop her pen cap open, all while keeping direct eye contact with you as she smirked.
“No, I just asked why you didn’t tell me before you had it done—I didn’t say that I didn’t like it.” you dryly laughed at her statement which made her break from the character she had seemed to be playing, making you reach over to push the album over to her so she could get her signature done—you were only interacting with borrowed time, after all. But Jinsol, as always didn’t let it get to her—but instead, she grabbed ahold of your wrist before you had pulled it back from the table. Quickly drawing a silhouette Guppy fish on the back of your hand and positioning her hand to start signing your album until a manager behind her tells her to let go of you—which she did but not before looking up to frown at the person and mumbling things under her breathe as you laughed.
“Oh, I went to the Ocean Park with a friend the other day and I got you something.” you rummaged through your bag that had kept different kinds of gifts for each member, remembering well enough to not go over the top after Jinsoul had teased that you’ve practically attended their fan signs more than they have—that it was enough to see you continuing to be a loyal fan since your first event—but you couldn’t help but not pick the gift up, considering that it wasn’t everyday that you’d visit an Ocean Park right?
And it was also as if a higher power had willed it, out of all the sea creatures in the gift shop—there was only one stock left of what you’ve picked up as a gift for the girl.
Jinsoul’s look of disapproval at your mention of a gift turned into a soft gaze at the sight of the little plush rainbow Guppy fish dangling in your hands as you beamed at her, the idol’s heart warmed at the thought of you being outside and just taking a moment to remember her in the midst of your everyday life. She then reached over to take it from your grasp just before you pulled another plush keychain—a more familiar type of fish in Jinsoul’s eyes, making the girl look at you expectantly as you eyed the two keychains.
“I didn’t know if you’d want the Guppy, or the Betta so I just got both of them. They’re yours—”
“Keep that one,” Jinsoul quickly snatched the Guppy keychain from your hands, a shy smile on her lips as she continued to look down at the accessory in hand—completely disregarding your stunned features as you held up the Betta keychain between you two, “I like my Guppy.”
“Ah.. Great, good to hear.” you dragged, watching Jinsoul lean back to look around for a manager before she sneaked the item in her coat pocket and met your eyes again, an appreciative look set on her features.
“You’ll be here again next time, right?” the blonde had always asked the question, at this point you wondered why she continued to ask after your meeting even though you’ve never missed a single one since your second one—but as you’ve continued to tell her that you will, every single time, you’ve realized that it was just the idol’s way of telling you that no matter what happened, no matter how big they’d get or where life leads you.
She’ll always be there, as your favorite member—until the next time you’d meet.
“Of course, Jinsoul. I promise to work hard again this week if you do the same.”
“I promise.”
And so the fan meeting had ended, the girls had directed warm smiles and waves at the crowd—making a point to find you in your seat and mouth a quick goodbye just before Jinsoul smiled at you, disappearing into the exit as the staff started directing how everyone would leave the venue.
What you didn’t expect however, was that fan meeting being the final face-to-face meet & greet you’re going to experience with the girls, the anguish that had you sulking for weeks after failing to attend the last event they had due to a sudden change of schedules in your classes—your professor announced that you’ll be having a test at the time of the meet & greet—and your part time work in a local coffee shop had also needed your assistance that day. It was practically the busiest day you’ve ever had since your routine of going to LOONA’s events, the day being something that you wish had never come to but what would you have done? The coffee shop was your only way of saving up money for the seats—and you were so close to finishing your degree in Humanities, it was just one day right? What could possibly go wrong?
A sudden influx with the case of a particular disease that had caused a pandemic to happen.
That’s what happened.
It was all downhill from there, you were balancing your university life in the cyberspace from your bed room condominium—all while feeling the burden of the sales dropping at the coffee shop you were working in which might put you in the list of workers they’d lay off. The situation that had unfolded before you had your mental state plummeting in no time, it was as if you were sitting on the edge of the cliff as you’ve lived through yet another day of getting up from your bed—turning on your computer, attending classes, leaving for work.. It was all robotic, and you absolutely despised it.
A few months had passed with you just trying to adjust to the circumstances, without thinking about anything else—at your own pace, as they’d like to call it—you started communicating with your friends again, life seemed to have became a bit brighter than how it was just before the pandemic had happened.
It wasn’t the best, but you could at least bear it better than the first few months.
You were writing down notes one night and your hand had managed to knock over a mug that you’ve filled with your pens, the contents spilling on your carpet to which had you quickly reaching over to collect the pens—but not before your eyes connected with a familiar keychain dangling from the zipper of your guitar bag. Looking up to your shelf and finding the several LOONA albums that had been displayed on it—the Orbit light stick, the photocard file folder, the Jinsoul album sat in full view next to the 12:00 album you still bought even if you never listened to it or tuned in with them at all.
You were in so much pain yet you still managed to buy the merchandise for when you were ready to come back.
But the Betta keychain was enough for you to go to their website and give the online meet & greet a shot.
“Woah! Look who it is—ah Jinsoul-unnie is going to be so surprised.. How have you been Y/N? Where have you been!?” Heejin lowered her voice when she spoke your name, you sighed before telling her things didn’t go as well as you’d hope but it all paid off as you were finally back on track.
“..Really, it sucks that this had to happen but—what can we do right? As long as we’re here, we still have a chance of making up for the time we’ve spent alone instead of making great memories with everyone..” Olivia Hye gave you a reassuring smile as you nodded to her words in understanding.
“Give me your address—I’ll sneak you a slice of Heejin’s Cheesecake when she makes some again. It’s really tasty! I really couldn’t stop myself..” you laughed at Hyunjin’s sulking expression on the screen.
“Cookie Run! Cookie Run!” Gowon started chanting as you looked at her in confusion, making the girl burst out into a fit of giggles before she passed the phone to Haseul who practically shrieked at sight of you on the screen. You’ve passed through the surprised members until finally being handed onto your favorite member who was just the second to the last member you were going to interact with—to which Jinsoul didn’t seem to have seen your face the first time as she was plugging her earphone through the headphone jack until she had finished, eyes widening before breaking into a full smile but then quickly masking it with a scowl.
“Hey! You think you’re so brave to come here after I haven’t seen you in months!? What do you think you’re doing, huh Y/N!?” Jinsoul shouted through her receiver, making you pull one of your earplugs out as you winced before giving the girl a sheepish smile.
“Sorry, I know. I know it’s been a while—it’s just..” you trailed off, trying to think of a way to properly explain the situation you were in without trying to make it sound as if you’re guilt-tripping the girl for shouting at you. The now dark-haired girl didn’t take a second before she shook her head, waving it in front of her dismissively as if hinting that she was just teasing.
“I know, this pandemic is the worst.”
“Yeah but I still think I could’ve at least tried to listen to your new album—”
“Y/N, you can listen to that anytime. The girls and I will always be here once you feel like you’re comfortable again. It wouldn’t make you any less of a fan if you take time for yourself, you know?” you frowned at the idol’s words as she gave you a dorky smile and pulled the camera in a close angle to her face, making you crack a smile and the girl giggle.
“But I heard that Heejin’s arms are the hot topic in our Voice performances these days, something about when they make the tree pose while Yves is dancing I think.”
“Oh? I wonder what that’s about.”
“And Hyunjin wearing her Apple watch to our stage—”
“No, she didn’t..” you gasped as Jinsoul laughed before the idol sighed, staring at you on the screen—almost as if longingly—until her eyes lit up and she pointed a finger to her hair.
“I also got my hair dyed!”
“I wouldn’t have guessed!”
“Y/N!” Jinsoul pouted as you laughed, resting your chin on the palm of you hand as you hummed—actually letting the black shade sink in.
“Not bad..” you dryly complimented the idol, teasing her further which made her groan.
“I’m your favorite!”
“You are, and I was kidding—of course you look pretty, you always have.” you could hear Kim Lip telling Jinsoul that it was her turn which made the girl panic, looking down at your photo album and writing down quickly.
“I missed you, just come back when you feel like yourself again—alright Y/N?” Jinsoul practically started rapping, slamming her pen on the desk as she finished signing over her picture and pulling the camera closer to show you the usual Guppy she’d drawn over your name—and now next to hers this time—before directing the camera back to her pointed look.
“Don’t stress over it! Work hard but always make sure to check up on yourself—take care of yourself,” Kim Lip seemed to have grabbed ahold of her arm as the phone shook in her hold, a smile breaking on Jinsoul’s lips as she resisted the members hold and struggled to keep the phone in her hand, “I love you! I’ll always be your favorite girl! See you later, my Guppy!”
As she passed the device to Kim Lip, you and the member just burst into a fit of laughter practically half of the time you were supposed to be talking—but you couldn’t help it as Jinsoul kept leaning over to tell you that she loved you throughout the final member’s meeting. Once the meet & greet had ended, you felt the heavy weight that had set on you before the meeting vanish—the thought of the possibility that the older girl wouldn’t have treated you just as she had always did scared you so much that you started sobbing silently to yourself in your empty room, clutching the Betta keychain in hand while hugging your knees against your chest.
After the meeting, you scrambled to grab one of the few versions of the 12:00 album and before you know it—you started bawling your eyes out once Universe started playing through your speakers.
“Make it happen to you, make it happen to you.”
The days ahead seemed brighter after the online event, with you walking home a few weeks after—the album playing on repeat but you’ve also shuffled it some time to their entire discography—when you were called by the receptionist in the lobby for a package, which you could only hope was from the meet & greet a few weeks ago. So you hurried to get into your room to unpack the box and open it to find out that it was indeed the photo album from the online event—on top of another box with a striking shade of blue. The idea of it being from your idol made your hands shake as you reached over to retrieve it, finding it odd how it seemed to be light in weight but also had a hefty amount to it.
Pulling off it’s lid, you were greeted by a see-through box of what seemed to be small LEGO bricks with a manual underneath it, a tiny crocheted red bear, all on top of a brown wool plaid scarf and a baby blue sweater. You looked around the box to find anything else attached to it—and soon enough you found yourself reaching under the box to grab a blue envelope from under the container, opening it and unfolding the paper for your insides to flutter just as it used to before the fall of your mental state.
“Dear Y/N (My Guppy),
I’m sneaking these extra things in hopes that the staff won’t notice, but I thought you’d like them because while I was going through the same months as you were—these were the things that had brought me a sense of comfort, it took my mind off things and I thought that maybe it’ll work for you too!
Because Y/N had always seemed to have me on her mind in days when we don’t see each other—just as she had always been in mine! You can count on that!
Anyway, the LEGO set turns into an orange tabby cat (like in Hyunjin’s music video ㅋㅋ), the crocheted bear was made by me (you should also try crocheting, it takes some time to get used to it though), and the baby blue sweater is just one of mine. Haseul seemed to have caught up to my plan and told me to give you the wool scarf that matched her shirt? I don’t really know, she must want to match something with you too after she asked me about your keychain on my bag once.
But Y/N! You’ve been taking care of yourself lately, right? Just like I told you to? I just hope this simple gesture would brighten your day, because I am still your favorite girl right?
Ah, Y/N, I don’t know what else to say. I always want to tell you so many things but our time had always been so short, and now that I have the opportunity to write it down..
I missed you.
And I love you.
I’ll keep being the Jinsoul that Y/N looks up to dearly because I know that one day, we’ll see each other again and we can continue with our jokes and ask about how our weeks had been (maybe I should start asking our manager if I can just give you a reserved ticket every time). So you take really good care of yourself until then, alright? I’ll be waiting, Y/N, until we finally meet again.
No matter how long it’ll take, okay?
Rest easy, my love.
I’ll always be your favorite girl.
From,
Jung Jinsol (Your Betta)."
An extra GIF because I love how Jinsoul loves us and I live for Kim Lip's embarrassed reactions every time anything remotely awkward happens in front of her lmao. And yes you've read through this correctly—it's a one shot~
I've basically done so many things for the past few days, I think it's what people call overstimulating? But as that was happening, those allega—tors, yes the alligators with 10 and 2. I hate how we got those after we literally were celebrating over the Haseul pic and Orbit ring message.
(I also had another writer's block moment with The Heiress but don't worry, I can see their characters again after listening to my inspo music for that series—which got me side tracked when it got to a brighter tone song and made me write this Jinsoul one shot for practice again.)
And I thought of a cute Choerry plot~
Music really gets you in a mood.
But the color correction post is coming up after this—I just want you guys to have a feel of how I envision the scenes, it might be just a bit of light tweaking and etcetera but it really does make a difference in triggering my writing mood.
Oh and if you're wondering if I'll ever make a girlfriend type oneshot/series—even I am as well, I like the idea that you could think that in the end you'll end up together or if you've been together from the start.. The underlying meanings fascinate me so much I do not have words for it.
I'm easing into this again, alright I'm going to go now but I'll be back with more stuff.
..If I don't get pulled into finishing my Little Nightmares DLC before starting on the second one.
Also, yes that was me plugging Hyunjin's MV because I love her and I love her underrated solo.
Laters,
JJ.
>ovc: loonatheworld (171212)
https://youtu.be/eUeFUBy40ow
youtube
#loona#loona imagines#kpop#kpop imagines#heejin#hyunjin#haseul#yeojin#vivi#kim lip#jinsoul#choerry#yves#chuu#gowon#olivia hye#y/n#loona x reader#loona 1/3#loona odd eye circle#loona yyxy#imagine#alternate universe#oneshot
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I literally JUST sat down, pt.2
Part One, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven
AN: The case stalls, but no one’s willing to give up on you just yet. Characters: Spencer Reid, Penelope Garcia, Derek Morgan, Aaron Hotchner, Jennifer Jareau, David Rossi.
Pairings: Spencer Reid x reader
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Mentions of crime and violence, alcohol
(Again! Massive shoutout to @pirateismywayofspeaking for the constant support and ideas! And lemme know if you want to be added to the taglist!)
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It’s a well known fact that there are three certainties in life; death, taxes and the willpower of one Penelope Garcia. In less than an hour she had somehow organized to get all your clothes and personal possessions delivered right to the BAU, packed in your favorite suitcases and all. A couple of things had to be kept in evidence because the UnSub might have come into contact with them, but all the important stuff was there. It was comforting, having your stuff safe with you and, as you sat through the long and rigorous process of being interviewed, you felt better.
“And you’re 100% sure that none of your employees could have possibly done this?” Rossi asked, “Maybe someone you recently fired? Or someone who has a history of violence?”
You gave him an incredulous look, “Rossi, come on. Do you really think I’d be stupid enough to hire someone with a violent past?”
“You checked everyone out?”
“Full background checks on all three employees,” you agreed, “the harshest thing on any of their records was a parking ticket and a decade old charge for underage drinking.”
Hotch sighed, rubbing his temples right where you knew he got headaches.
“We know the poem is significant to the UnSub. It’s an old love poem, so it’s got to be someone who has some sort of connection to you,” he repeated, “it's personal.”
You shook your head, “Hotch, I don’t know what to tell you. I haven’t had a romantic relationship in years. There’s not a lot of time when you work 14 hour days.”
“Don’t we know it,” Rossi agreed, “so, a stalker, maybe?”
“That’s a hell of a way to make first contact,” you scoffed, “a phone call would be less risky.”
“And less effective.”
You conceded the point with a head tilt, and then looked back at Hotch, “Hotch, can we take a break? We’ve been at this for hours.”
“Of course,” he agreed, “get some rest, Y/L/N.”
“No, it’s okay, there’s work to be done here. I can stay,” you assured, stretching your stiff limbs.
Hotch shot you a look, but said nothing, obviously sensing that you weren’t going to give in without some sort of fight. Instead, he just gave you a terse nod, and walked out, leaving you with Rossi.
“You’re impossible, you know that, right?” He said.
You smiled, shrugging, “What can I say, Ros? I learned from the best.”
He chuckled, shaking his head and ruffling your hair as he walked past you, “Good to have you back, kid.”
The bullpen was busy when you walked back in, suitcases in hand, striding your way over to your old desk. It’s scary how little had really changed in the year since you’d been gone. Aside from Spencer’s semi-annual hair evolution, everything was the same; the smells, the sights, even the comforting clack of Garcia’s heels against the floor. It was comforting, almost painfully so but, as you reached your old desk, you noticed something was wrong.
“Whose stuff is this?” You asked, gesturing to the stacks of files and piles of paper scattered all over the surface.
“Mine,” Emily said, not even looking up from her work.
“But...you have a desk,” you pointed out.
“And now I have two,” she replied simply, “you can sit somewhere else.”
She was being stubborn and you felt a lick of irritation flare up inside your chest. Emily Prentiss had been one of your closest friends for years and, when you’d left the BAU, she’d taken it the hardest. Any other time, you would have understood her resentment but, given the circumstances, you weren’t feeling particularly generous.
You crossed your arms over your chest, “And where do you suggest I sit?”
Emily shrugged and gave you a sickly sweet smile, “You can share with Reid.”
You felt yourself flush with heat. Emily had known about your feelings for Spencer, she’d even encouraged you to act on them. You knew she’d never actually betray your trust, but even that subtle dig was enough to make you want to argue. You opened your mouth but, before you could say anything, Spencer interrupted.
“Here, Y/N,” he smiled, patting a spot beside him, “I’ve got space.”
You pressed your lips together, but relented when he took the time to pull an empty chair over for you to sit in.
“Thanks, Reid,” you said, taking the offered seat.
“So, did you and Hotch figure anything out?” Spencer asked.
You shook your head, “Nothing we didn’t already know. Rossi thinks it might be some kind of stalker?” You offered.
Spencer frowned, “A stalker? That doesn’t make any sense, what kind of stalker starts off their pursuit with a murder?”
“A very, very desperate one.” Emily offered.
You wanted to snap something like; ‘oh, so now you’re talking to me?’ but you bit your tongue. You knew you were on edge, and now wasn’t the time to lash out at the only people who could really help you.
“Or very deranged.” Spencer suggested
You shuddered, picturing a faceless man in all black running his blood soaked hands across your walls, drawing a jagged smiley face above your bed, memorizing the faces in your pictures. You exhaled and pushed the thought away.
“Does this even count as an escalation?” You asked, “I’m not sure there’s really anywhere to go from here.”
You were met with stony silence as Emily and Spencer inspected their respective files. You knew what they were thinking, what everyone was thinking; whatever this was, it was bad news.
“Do we know who our victim is, yet?” Spencer asked.
“Nope,” you sighed, “the UnSub burned off his fingerprints and removed several of his molars before he dumped the body, the ME is doing her best to get a DNA match, but it’ll take time.”
“The mutilation is odd, considering there wasn’t any evidence of torture on the victim before they died,” Spencer said.
“It’s gotta be a forensic countermeasure,” Emily agreed, “but it’s extremely sophisticated. Our UnSub must have experience with law enforcement.”
“But as a perp or a cop?”
You sighed and buried your head in your hands, letting the familiar back and forth wash over you like white noise. You’d had this conversation before, many many times, and it never got any easier. Usually you lived for the puzzle but, now that you were the one under scrutiny, it felt like your brain was rebelling against you.
“Y/N/N?” Spencer asked, touching your shoulder gently and snapping back to reality.
“Mm?” You replied.
His face softened as he took in the exhaustion radiating off your body.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
You nodded, “Just a little drained, that’s all.”
The clicking of heels against the floor drew your attention and you looked up just in time to see Garcia swooping in with her purse.
“You ready to go, crime fighter?” She smiled.
“Go where?” You asked,
“Home!” She smiled, “I have the honor and privilege of hosting you tonight.”
“Garcia-“ you started.
“No! No arguing.” She insisted, “I’ve already found us a lovely little Thai place for dinner, and there’s a bunch of episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer lined up on my DVR.”
You groaned, rolling your eyes fondly, “I hate how well you know me.”
She smiled devilishly, “Sounds good, right?”
“It sounds incredible and you know that because you’re a super genius who knows literally everything.” You teased, pushing yourself onto your feet, “Okay, Wonder Woman, let’s go.”
As you made your way out of the office, you cast one last look over your shoulder, smiling when Spencer met your eye and gave you a small wave.
————————-
“Okay, Sugar Plum, spill,” Penelope pushed, handing you a full glass of wine, “how’re you really doing?”
“With what?”
Penelope shot you an incredulous look, “With, you know, all of it. The murder, the mystery, being back at work, the Spencer Reid of it all.”
You spluttered through a sip of wine, “The what? ‘Nel, you can’t be serious.”
“What? I’m just asking,” she insisted, “he followed you out earlier, you’re sharing a desk now...it wouldn’t be crazy if maybe your old crush came creeping back in.”
“Penelope” you started, “some creep dropped a dead body in my bookstore and broke into my apartment and you think I’m thinking about Spencer?” She didn’t answer, just raising her eyebrows and you sighed, sliding down the couch, “Okay so I’m pathetic.”
“No you’re not!” She insisted, “You guys were like two peas in a pod, back in the day. Plus, you’ve seen like a thousand dead bodies, you’re probably just desensitized.”
“Still,” you sulked, “I can’t believe I’m still thinking about Spence.”
“Naaaaaaaaw,” she swooned, squeezing your knee, “you called him ‘Spence’, you haven’t done that in ages.”
“Fuck off, Nel” you said without any real malice, burying your face in your hands and sighing again, “please tell me I’m being ridiculous.”
Garcia smiled, a knowing glint in her dark blue eyes as she sipped her wine and watched you squirm. She’d kept in touch with you when you left the BAU, insisting on weekly brunch meetups and girls nights and a million other things that you’re not sure you would’ve survived without. She’d been like a lifeline in those first few months and, because of that, she was the only one who really knew how hard leaving had been for you. She’d been the one who sat through the hours of crying and panicking and wondering who you were without your job, who’d held your hand when you went to get a small business loan, who’d sampled your cookie recipes and helped you design uniforms. Penelope Garcia had been there for all of it. You had a photo of the two of you together at the bookstore next to your bed. It was one of your most treasured possessions.
“Now, Sugar Plum, you know I’ve always had a soft spot for you and the Boy Wonder. He’s lovely, you’re lovely; he loves you, you love him, I love you both, it’s a match made in FBI heaven as far as I’m concerned-“
“But?” You prompted with a rueful smile.
“But,” Penelope agreed, “he took it really hard when you left, and I’m not sure how he’ll handle losing you a second time.”
You frowned, “He never lost me. None of you lost me, I just got a different job! It’s not my fault that basically no one bothered to keep in touch.”
Penelope’s face softened and she smiled at you sympathetically, “Pumpkin, you know it’s not like that. When you’re in the BAU, it’s like we’re living in our own little crime bubble, everything outside just kind of….fades, you know?”
“I know…”
“And with Spencer, well, you know he’s never been the best at dealing with abandonment, the poor thing’s been through so much already,” Penelope continued, “he tried to keep in touch. He really did, and he talked about you all the time.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
She sighed, “I don’t know. I guess I just-“ she shrugged and squeezed your knee again, “I don’t want you to think that he forgot about you, that’s all.”
You felt a small smile tug at the corners of your lips, and you gripped Garcia’s hand.
“Thanks, Nel.”
You knew she was right. Life in the BAU wasn’t like life on the outside; you lived by different rules, took different risks, valued different things. It was strange and intoxicating and you really couldn’t fault your teammates for continuing to play the game the way they always had. You’d chosen to leave and you had to live with the consequences of that.
“Can we talk about something besides boys now, please?” You asked, “I want this girl’s night to pass the bechdel test.”
She smiled and clapped her perfectly manicured hands, “Oh do not fret, ma Cherie because I’ve got so much to catch you up on-“
You listened with rapt attention as Garcia filled you in on the last twelve months of FBI gossip. You laughed together, ate Thai food and just relaxed together. With every Perfectly Penelope story, you felt a little more of your tension slip away and, by the time you made it to bed, you were feeling almost normal.
Penelope had made up the couch for you, complete with pillows and blankets and a homemade quilt. It was comfortable, too comfortable. So comfortable, that your brain had way too much time to mull over what Penelope had said earlier.
Spencer hadn’t just forgotten about you. What did that mean? He’d taken it hard when you left...the questions bounced around your mind like wasps, keeping you awake. Without meaning to, your mind started to drift, sifting through the years worth of memories you’d kept locked away in a box in the back of your mind.
————————
“You are the most insufferable person I’ve ever met,” you laughed, “I’m fine, Spence.”
“You’re not fine, Y/N, you got shot.” Spencer reminded you, his eyes still sparkling with the relief of seeing you alive and in good spirits.
You were sitting in the back of an ambulance, a throbbing pain resonating from the wound in your shoulder as the police searched through the nearby crime scene and Spencer inspected your face. It was cold and dark, but the sirens and flashing lights meant that it was anything but peaceful, and you knew it would still be many hours before either you or Spencer got any sleep.
“Yeah well, we’ve all been shot,” you pointed out, “and, statistically speaking, we have a 100% survival rate.”
Spencer rolled his eyes, but he was smiling so you knew he wasn’t too mad.
“You’re bastardizing my beautiful statistical analysis and using it for evil. Remind me why I’m bothering to check on you, again?” He teased.
“Because you loooooove me,” you teased back, jostling his shoulder with yours, “and because I just took a bullet to the shoulder for you.”
He chuckled but avoided your gaze, focusing on his shoes, “Yeah that would explain it.”
Something in the atmosphere changed and you looked over at Spencer, noticing the way he worried at the inside of his cheek with his hands in his pockets. His brow was furrowed too, like he was sad, and something in your chest pinched.
“You alright there, doc?” You asked.
“Don’t do it again,” he said, looking up and catching your eye.
You paused, “don’t do what?”
“Take a bullet to the shoulder for me,” he explained, “get hurt trying to protect me. Promise me you won’t do it again?”
You pressed your lips together, recognizing the same feeling of fear and guilt in Spencer that you, yourself, felt any time someone you cared about was in danger. You reached out, pulling one of his hands out of his pocket and giving it a gentle squeeze before letting go. Spencer held on for a second longer, his dark eyes filling with something as he took you in.
“You know I can’t promise that, Spence,” you said gently, “if we’re ever in a situation like this again….no way I’m just letting you die to avoid a couple of stitches.”
“No, you don’t-” he paused, getting himself worked up, “you don’t get it. I watched my girlfriend get shot right in front of me, I-I’ve lost so many people that I care about, Y/N, and I can’t lose anyone else. Not for something as stupid as my own life.”
“Your life isn’t some insignificant thing, Spence,” you insisted, “it’s important! To me, to the team, to everyone. We’re a family, Spencer, families have each other’s backs. Always.”
He took a deep breath and nodded, carding his fingers through his hair like he was agitated.
“Just-” he started again, “just promise me you won’t do it again.”
“I can’t.” you insisted, “I can’t make that promise.
He turned to face you, looking more tired than you’d seen him in weeks, “Then promise you’ll be careful. Promise me I won’t lose you too?”
Your heart ached, and you longed to reach out and wrap him up in your arms, but you restrained yourself.
“How about this; I’ll promise that you won’t lose me, if you promise that we’ll always be best friends, and that you’ll try to start valuing your own life as much as you value mine or Morgan’s, deal?” You offered, extending your hand for Spencer to shake.
Spencer frowned, opening his mouth to argue but, before he could, an agent interrupted.
“Agent Y/L/N? Dr. Reid? Agent Hotchner is looking for you.”
———————————-
You snapped back to reality with a jolt, and realised you were lonely. So much time had passed since that night, but you remembered it all perfectly, every detail. It wasn’t an especially meaningful night, there were a million moments just like it, but something about it had stuck. Maybe it was the potential, the wondering, that thing that he never got to say. You wish you’d gotten to hear it now.
You fumbled around in the dark for your cellphone, typing out a message and pressing send before you could think better of it. It was short, and to the point, and you would be shocked if he responded but, once it was done, you felt something in your chest loosen, like maybe you’d been wanting to send that message for a really long time.
To Spencer Reid: Hey, Reid? I’m sorry I left, I never meant to break my promise.
With the heavy weight of remembering suddenly lifted, you realised how tired you were, and you let sleep drag you under. If you’d stayed awake a little longer, you might not have missed the way Spencer kept typing, typing, typing away some message he never sent. Or the eventual response, which only came in three hours later:
You never broke your promise, Y/N. I broke mine.
----------------------
Taglist: @ourfavoritesergeantbarnes, @confused-and-really-hungry, @word-scribbless, @reidloversisforever, @ashookykooky, @l0ve-0f-my-life, @shilohpug, @tangerinenotions95, @petitchatonbleu
#jordsie#jordsie writes#cm#cm imagine#criminal minds#criminal minds headcanons#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid headcanons#matthew gray gubler x reader#matthew gray gubler imagine#matthew gray gubler x you#matthew gray gubler#Penelope garcia#penelope garcia imagine
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Headcanons: Batboys
@magnificentpiesharkstatesman requested: “Can you do a Batboys dating sorcerer!male reader please , obvious reader is a bottom”
.
Ages: Dick Grayson is in his late 20s/early 30s,Jason Todd is in his mid/late 20s, and Tim Drake is at least 18/19 years old.
Not doing an nsfw section for Damien because he’s a kid, but there is a SFW section at the bottom for him. He’s about 13/14 years old in this.
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Warning: Mentions of NSFW (sections are labeled)
~~~~~~~~
Dick Grayson
You’ve known Dick since he was a part of the Flying Graysons. The two of you kept in touch through email when the accident happened and he left.
Your parents were magicians in the circus (your mother was, your father was her assistant). They decided to settle in Gotham when you were fifteen years old.
You and Dick went to the same school, but neither of you did after-school activities. Dick was busy being Robin while you were learning magic (not that either of you knew what the other was doing).
You moved in with Dick when he went to Bludhaven and became Nightwing. Your parents were happy for you and maybe cried a little because they would miss having you home.
It was during the first month of you living in Bludhaven that you and Dick starting dating. You would patch him up after patrol and he’d tell you about the night’s misadventures.
Once Dick’s family knew you were dating, you received threats from all of them about what would happen if you hurt Dick (Damien’s terrified you because a kid that young should not be able to describe things that gory).
NSFW:
Dick is a very enthusiastic lover. He’s very energetic. Plus he’s got great endurance. You can imagine what the sex is like.
While Dick isn’t large (he’s average sized), he knows what to do to make you feel good. This man knows his tricks.
More often than not, you become a writhing mess during sex because Dick fucks like a rabbit. This man will go for hours because he is horny as hell.
Definitely turns innocent things into sexy teasing. Oh, the dishes need done? How about Dick does them in that cute apron he totally didn’t buy to do dishes naked in?
While it’s usually you on the bottom, Dick isn’t against switching it up. Just be aware that this boy can and will ride you until you can’t walk for a week.
Jason Todd
You and Jason lived in the same crappy apartment building when the two of you were younger.
Your father was a party magician (not very good at it, unfortunately) who made just enough to pay the rent.
Your mother had been a better magician (who used real magic and drew in large crowds) but she died in a magical accident. Your current apartment was the best your father could afford with his limited skills.
It was actually how the two of you met. Your dad was putting on a free show for the kids in your building and Jason tried to steal some of his props. You bribed Jason with candy to not steal them.
When Jason became Robin, he immediately told you. It was at this time you told him that magic was real and showed him some of the spells you knew.
You and Jason began dating when you were both teens. Your father was happy you found someone and would go out of his way to show his support.
After Jason died, you gained a closed-off and hostile attitude. Your father was the only person you shared your hurt with because he understood what it was like to lose someone you loved.
When you found out Jason was alive (he came and found you, told you what happened) your magic went wild. It took some time for you to calm down and get control.
NSFW:
Although Jason is a very in-charge kinda guy, but not completely domineering. If he can tell you’re not in the mood or if you tell him no, he respects your wishes.
When you do want to get down and dirty, Jason is very much willing to oblige. He’s always in charge and likes pinning you down as he fucks you into the mattress (or the coffee table, or the kitchen counter, or the top of the dryer...).
Jason is a loud orgasmer. His cock is big and he cums a lot. He will definitely leave you feeling full and leaking. (He’ll also let you know how good you look with his cum dripping out of you)
Doesn’t care much for being restrained during sex himself, but he loves tying you up. He’ll definitely get fancy with the knots.
He’d be curious about incorporating magic into your sex life. Are there spells to spice up the bedroom? (The answer is yes, and the magical community has several spellbooks on sex-safe spells)
Tim Drake
Tim was one of your classmates. You two occasionally worked together on class projects, but you two didn’t really talk.
That changed when Tim worked out your parents were a pair of magic-using criminals and then confronted you about it.
You told him you had no desire to follow in your parent’s footsteps, but were learning how to use your magic so it didn’t go out of control.
Over time, Tim would come to you when he needed magical assistance with his work. You were willing to help him because he was willing to believe in giving you a chance.
Tim once asked you to meet him at a diner to go over something with him. It turns out ‘something’ was asking you to date him. You gladly accepted.
NSFW:
Tim will often claim he’s too busy working on a case to engage in sexual activities. You respond by playing with yourself while he works. It gets him every time.
When he doesn’t come, you’ll sit under Tim’s desk in front of him and suck his cock. He’ll act uninterested but the twitch of his hips and his throbbing cock tells you otherwise.
While Tim isn’t thick, he’s long. His favorite thing to do while you’re under his desk is use your mouth as a personal cock-warmer. Your knees will go numb from kneeling so long.
Both of you are still experimenting with sex positions, but generally Tim is the one on top.
Damien Wayne
You met Damien when he joined the Teen Titans. You were already a member when he came.
Both your parents were gone, previously members of the Justice League. They had died during a mission and left you with a spellbook and a large fortune.
You intrigued Damian. He had heard of magic before but never seen it. And here you were, a boy his age with magic almost literally spilling from your fingers.
Magic came in handy with some of the Titans trickier foes, and you were pretty good at healing the lesser injuries the team sustained.
Damien once asked you about the Lazarus Pit and if you thought it was magic. You told him you thought it was more alchemical in nature, but magic wasn’t out of the question.
You asked Damien to teach you basic hand-to-hand combat, so you didn’t have to depend too heavily on your magic. It became a bi-weekly meetup for the two of you.
Damien was the one to suggest the both of you try dating. You both are still young, so most of your dates are things like going to the movie theater or grabbing a bite to eat somewhere.
~~~~~~~~
I don’t own the above gifs, all credits go to the owners.
#thedailyimagines#imagine#male reader#magic!reader#sorcerer!reader#headcanons#batman#batman imagine#dc comics#dc comics imagine#batboys#batboys imagine#batboys x reader#batboys x reader imagine#dick grayson#dick grayson imagine#jason todd#jason todd imagine#tim drake#tim drake imagine#damien wayne#damien wayne imagine
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Merch Meetup - Colby Brock
Sam has been telling Colby about the girl who helps him design his merch and how he thinks they would be perfect for each other. When she comes over to get started on some of Sam’s ideas, he introduces the two, and Colby has to get closer to her.
Requested by an amazing anon 💙
Warnings: some curse words
Word Count: 2.1k+
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SAM’S POV
“She is literally so perfect for you, dude. I’m sure you two will fall in love instantly,” I tell my best friend. He rolls his eyes at me. I know Kat has tried to fix him up with several of her friends and it never works, and now I’m doing it. But I know he will love this girl. She is literally the perfect person for him.
“What do you mean? What is she like?” He sighs as he puts his phone down. Okay, looks like I’ve got him hooked. He is interested and is giving me his full attention. A small smile plays on my lips before I begin to describe her.
“Well, she is exactly your type, looks-wise. She is super smart which I know you love in a girl. She’s creative and funny and she has good style. She likes to travel, and she has a little dog named Doc. You two have the same type of humor and if you check out her Twitter, you’ll see she posts deep tweets too. She’s carefree and fun and I know you will love her when you meet her later today.” His eyes widen at the last bit of information.
“Today? I’m meeting who you think will be the love of my life later today?” He questions as I nod.
“Yeah, she’s coming over to help me design merch. She’s a merch designer for Fanjoy,” I fill him in.
“What’s her name?” asks Colby.
“Y/n,” I watch as a smile grows on his face when I say her name. He is already in love with her. I can tell.
“I like her name. It’s pretty,” He gushes. I roll my eyes playfully.
“Yeah and so is she. So, I suggest you go change out of those sweatpants and that hoodie you have been wearing for a few days and go shower. She’ll be here around two,” I inform him before he hurries off the couch and to his room. I hope he doesn’t mess this up.
...
“Y/n!” I shout excitedly as I swing the door open to let her in.
“Sammy!” She reciprocates my same energy when returning me a greeting. I pull her into a quick hug before we move to the kitchen, sitting at the counter.
“Do you want anything to eat or drink?” I offer as she pulls her laptop out of her bag and places it on the countertop. Before she can reply, Colby yells from the next room over.
“Hey, Sam! When is your friend supposed to get here?” I mentally facepalm and shake my head at him. His back is facing the kitchen so he can’t see us, and I guess all he heard was my voice, so he knew I was here.
“Um Colby, she’s right here,” I tell him before he spins around in his chair, moving his attention from Dig Dug to y/n and I. She gives him a small wave before giggling softly to herself. Maybe she found his awkwardness as cute and charming? We can only hope. Colby made his way over to the kitchen island, leaning against it.
“Y/n, this is my best friend, Colby. Colby, this is y/n, Fanjoy merch designer.” The two shake hands and I notice both of them are slightly blushing. Maybe this is working?
“I like your name,” Colby tells her, and her blush grows even more. She giggles once more before thanking him for the compliment. The two make a little small talk before Colby leaves us to get some work done.
“Sorry about him earlier. He’s normally a pretty cool and charming guy,” I laugh off before sitting down next to her.
“Don’t worry about it. I thought he was charming and cute,” She blushes again. I crack a smile before we start working on some merch.
COLBY’S POV
Sam: she said you were cute and charming
Colby: so i didn’t totally mess up
Sam: nope, you saved it
Yes! I didn’t totally screw this thing up. And to top it off, she thinks I am cute and charming. So, I played it off pretty well. I still feel very embarrassed, but that’s okay.
Sam failed to mention how fucking gorgeous she is. She is beautiful. Her eyes are mesmerizing. I could stare into those things forever and her hair frames her face perfectly. Her smile is my favorite thing. It is stunning. And how could I forget her laugh? It’s great too. But her small giggle is the best. It’s the cutest thing I have ever heard. I could listen to it all day along with her voice. It is so soothing and unlike anything I’ve ever heard.
I could literally go on and on about her and I have only known her for fifteen minutes, talked to her for five of them. Sam was right. She is perfect for me. Is it too soon to say that I love her? Yeah, but I do. I feel like I love her already. Damn, she has got me messed up. I have to see her again.
Y/N’S POV
“Okay, how about this?” I ask Sam as I turn my computer towards him. His mouth drops open as he examines the design I put together, and the corners of his lips turn upward into a smile.
“I love it, y/n. I don’t know how you do this, but you are so good at it!” He shouts as he pulls me into a hug to thank me.
“It is my job,” I laugh as we pull away and as soon as we do, Colby comes in the room with another guy.
“Are you two done? Or looking to take a break?” Colby asks, looking absolutely adorable. I am falling hard for this boy and have only talked to him for like five minutes. I may be crazy, but I don’t really care.
“We actually just finished,” I inform him as I shut my laptop.
“Well, Jake and I were wondering if you two wanted to play pool with us?” He says with a huge grin plastered on his face. I look to Sam and he nods.
“We’re in, but I’m gonna warn you. I’m not the best,” I say as I slide off my chair and follow the boys.
“I’m sure you’ll do fine and if you don’t, I’ll show you how, okay?” Colby speaks softly and I nod in response. We walk over to the red felted pool table and the guys begin to grab pool sticks, but before I can grab one, Colby hands me it.
“Thanks,” I say as I feel myself blush. He is sweet and caring too? I am definitely already in love. God, I am a mess.
“I want to team with Sam!” shouts Jake as he pulls Samuel away from the group. Colby and I look to each other, knowing that we are now on a team together. I honestly feel bad for the guy because we are now completely doomed.
“I’m so sorry, but we are going to lose,” I tell him as I pat his back sadly before heading to our side of the table.
“You can’t be that bad,” He tries to be hopeful, but I shake my head at him.
“No, I mean I am bad,” I say, emphasizing the word.
“Let’s start the game and I’ll help you as we go,” Colby assures me. I nod, knowing that literally nothing will help me, but I’ll let him try.
“I can do this part,” I say as I pull out the colored billiard balls and place them in the triangle that Jake had placed on the table. After we get all the balls in the triangle, Jake pulls it up, leaving the balls in a triangle formation.
“Who’s going first?” Sam questions. I shrug, but Jake looks at Colby, challenging him to rock, paper, scissors. I roll my eyes playfully as I watch them battle it out, tying the first two times, but Jake’s scissors cut Colby’s paper. Sam lets Jake go first out of the two of them and he skips happily to our side of the table, placing down the cue ball and striking it. It makes contact with the triangle of colored spheres, sending them in all different directions.
“Yay, I love being stripes!” Jake excitedly states after one of the striped balls falls into a corner pocket.
“So, you know that we are solids, right?” Colby leans down to whisper in my ear. I look up at him and nod.
“Yeah, I know how to play the game. It’s just the shooting of the ball that I struggle with,” I giggle. He smiles down at me before speaking again.
“Well after he goes, I’ll go, and then when it’s your turn, I’ll watch you do it so I can show you what to fix.” Jake goes again but doesn’t get anything. Colby walks up to the table and spots a ball he thinks he can get. He bends over, lining up his pool stick, the cue ball, and the solid yellow ball he has aimed for the side pocket on the right. Using his right hand that he has gripped onto the pool stick, he pushes it. The momentum from the force flows from the stick to the white ball to the yellow one and it gently falls into the pocket.
A victorious smile spreads across his face as he looks up. I give him an impressed and proud look before he figures out his next move. I watch as he goes through the same process, picking a ball, lining it up, striking it, but this time, the purple ball he chose rolled all the way to the pocket but didn’t quite fall in. It stayed put at the edge of it. Jake laughed at it before Sam got up to go. Colby came back and stood next to me.
“You are definitely going to have to show me how to stand. I don’t even know how to do that.” He nods as we watch Sam miss his shot.
“Looks like it's your turn now,” He whispers over to me before placing his hand on my lower back, guiding me over to the table with him.
“Okay first, pick which ball you want to go for.” I look at all my options and the easiest looking one is the blue ball closest to one of the corner pockets.
“That one,” I say as I point to it. He chuckles before we walk to where I need to be. “Now, show me how you hold this thing.”
“Okay,” He says as he nods at me. I get into position and he comes behind me.
“Hold this hand like this so it can just glide through your fingers when you push it with your other hand,” Colby says right next to my ear as he uses his left hand to position my hand, his right rests on my hip. “You won’t move this hand. It’s just there to prop your pool stick.”
I notice Jake and Sam giggling before Jake whispers something to Sam. Sam nods and the two back away from the table a bit. My eyebrows furrow together in confusion before hearing Colby’s voice again in my ear.
“Y/n?” My head turns in his direction, only to come face-to-face with him. I did not realize how close he was to me, but now that is all I can see. It felt like we were the only two in the room.
“Can I kiss you right now?” Colby asks me as a blush rises to his cheeks. I look around us and the other boys had vanished by now. Turning back towards him, I nod. Within seconds his lips crash onto my own as I turn into him and wrap my arms around his neck. His arms wrap around my waist before he picks me up, setting me down on the edge of the pool table. A giggle escapes my lips and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue in. Our tongues explore each other’s mouths as he pulls me closer to him. My instinct is to wrap my legs around his hips. He pulls away for a second and I can’t help but pout.
“Do you want to take this upstairs?” He asks me and my pout quickly turns into a large grin.
“Let’s go,” I say as I wrap my legs tighter around his waist. He chuckles before lifting me off the table and heading for the stairs. I will say I like where this is going.
#colby#colby brock#cole robert brock#cute colby#cute colby brock#colby brock imagine#fanfic#colby brock fanfic#colby brock fanfiction#colby brock x reader#Sam and Colby#sam golbach#katrina stuart#jake webber#y/n#TRAPHOUSE#xplr#sncnetwork
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Comfort in Despair: Chapter 9 - Leon in Love?
Leon x F!Reader
Disclaimer: Do not own Pokemon
Summary:
Galar is rich in folklore and tales of the supernatural.
As a Pokemon Researcher who specialises in ghost types, this is a great opportunity for you to investigate and learn more about the paranormal.
Along the way, you meet Leon (in the most awkward way possible) who becomes embroiled in your adventures.
^ Basically this story is about ghosts :/
Rating: General/Teen
Extra Note: How tf am I at chapter 9 lol...reader and Leon still ain’t together yet either
Leon in Love?
…
…
[Headline from The Kalos Telegraph:
"Mystery of the Laverre Town Disappearances." Police are appealing after two individuals were reported missing from an address in Laverre Town. A well-known Pokemon Researcher and his five year old daughter has vanished under mysterious circumstances, leaving behind his wife and eldest daughter. Inspector Chris Graves has said: “If anybody sees these two individuals or knows where they are I would ask that they call police immediately."]
…
…
With the Mimikyu safely captured, you explain to Leon and Hop that you had a client from this morning who complained of a haunted doll and left it with you; the doll itself must have switched with the Wooloo plush which you believe should be still at home. You apologise profusely but they tell you everything is all under the bridge and as long as Hop isn't hurt, everything is fine and dandy.
You're left to keep Mimikyu for yourself because Leon doesn’t seem to want the killer doll anywhere near his little brother so you will deal with it later and you will need to give Hop the actual Wooloo plush...
The evening progresses and you go downstairs with Hop, Leon, Charizard and Gengar, making your way into the yard where a strong and smoky smell wafts in the atmosphere and the grill is sizzling loudly, huge puffs of smoke billowing in the air.
Leon’s mum stands with a pair of tongs in hands and an apron that says ‘License to Grill’, flipping chicken wings and ribs over the griddle whilst the grandparents are setting up the table. Hop immediately heads over to assist whilst Charizard and Gengar make their way to the garden where Wooloo is, lounging near the garage. It looks like Charizard is showing Gengar around.
You and Leon head to the table; there are plenty of dishes ranging from potato salad, pasta salad, assorted fruit, guacamole and tortilla chips. Hop helps himself to some chips along the way and immediately his grandpa barks at him but Hop chuckles and grabs another before he scampers away to the kitchen with Wooloo at his heels.
He returns with two large pitchers of orange juice and water. Leon goes to help and whilst you attempt to trail after them, everyone tells you that you are their guest so Leon pulls out an empty chair for you and you thank him, his face growing red as you neatly sit down on the chair.
You watch as he goes to help Hop, his mum and his grandparents, observing their dynamic and think about your own family.
The thought makes you sigh gently and your smile vanishes and you slide your forlorn gaze to the ground which Leon notices as he emerges from the kitchen.
Whilst Hop sits between the grandparents, Leon goes to help his mother again though he does occasionally throw you concerned glances every now and then but now you are engrossed with watching the pokemon; Gengar and Charizard are basking under the sun on the mini battle court whilst Purrloin and Wooloo chase each other playfully. You watch as Purrloin crouches on her front paws with her hindquarters in the air, shaking her tail before she pounces on the little sheep playfully.
And when Leon sees you smiling at the pokemon, he smiles too.
Eventually, Leon’s mum waltzes towards the table with a large platter full of barbecued ribs, sweetcorn, a few sirloins teaks and the wings and moves to sit at the very head of the table whilst Leon seats himself beside you. It’s a small, cosy table and your arms brush against each other. The close proximity has your heart thumping hard again.
“Help yourselves!” Leon’s mum exclaims and you glance at all the food available, unsure where to begin.
“Don’t mind if I do!” Hop belts out joyfully as he grabs a knife and fork, “Thanks, mum!”
“Yes, you’ve truly outdone yourself this time,” says grandmother, and Leon’s mum snorts under her breath and rolls her eyes.
“Thanks, mum, this looks great,” Leon says.
Now it's your turn to show your gratitude. “Thank you, Mrs-“
“Please, you can call me ‘mum’,” says Leon’s mother with a smile aimed at you, and you blush and nod.
Everyone begins to pile up food on their plates; Leon’s mum helps Hop and the grandparents tuck into their bland oatmeal but scoop the occasional guac whilst you glance around the table inquisitively, wondering what to try first. Everything looks delicious.
“I’ll help you,” Leon says, as he grabs a spare tong, “What would you like?”
“I’d like some chicken wings and some of the steak. Maybe some of the guac, too.”
“Excellent choice, my dear,” says grandmother, winking at you.
Leon begins grabbing the food off the platter and sliding them onto your plate as cleanly as possible. He unexpectedly gets some sauce on his fingers which he licks off. You cannot help your staring, but he does not notice. Holy crap, does Leon have a secret kinky side to him after all?
“Thank you, Leon,” you say with a weak smile, trying not to be too affected by how his lips enclose over his fingertips.
“No problem. Try some of the Vespiqueen Honey on the wings,” Leon passes you a bottle of squeezy honey and pulls the lid off, handing it to you which you hold upside down; you drizzle some of the orangey-gold gooey goodness over your pile of wings.
“That looks good.”
“Try it with ribs next.”
“Okay.”
As though oblivious to the rest of the people sitting at the table, Leon’s mother and the grandparents watch your interaction with amused expressions before they exchange wide grins at each other.
“You’re the first girl our Leo has brought home. You must have made quite the impression on him,” grandma says all of a sudden, chuckling under her breath.
“Grandma….” Leon mumbles, and he chooses to take a big sip of his sparkling water whilst Hop merely beams at grandma and they both exchange a high five.
The conversation continues, with Leon’s mother mentioning how you saved Leon and how indebted she is to you but you tell her she doesn’t need to repay you in any way. Then they ask you how you and Leon met. Leon’s face goes pink and you suppose he’s thinking about how he bumped into you half-naked in the middle of the forest somewhere in the Rolling Fields at night but then you recall you had actually met him earlier.
“We sat beside each other on the train to the Meetup Spot,” you say.
“We did?” Leon looks confused.
“Yeah, I think you were sleeping though so you didn’t notice but I saw you at the station. You ran past me.”
“Oh.”
"Then we met again in the Rolling Fields."
"My dear, do you know what this means?" gran says, leaning forwards in her seat, "It's fate."
Whilst Hop chews noisily on his food, glancing between you and his brother, Leon’s mum and the gran exchange more all-knowing looks coupled with some eyebrow raising and it’s rather obvious that they are quite possibly up to something and they ask how you found him in the Pokemon Den but Leon steps in, telling them that you rode on Charizard who went to look for you when he went missing.
“Lee, didn’t you say that if Charizard lets a girl-" Hop begins, but Leon shakes his head immediately and Hop pauses in his sentence, eyes wide, “Oh, uh…Never mind!”
“What?” you ask, only for the brothers to grin widely at you. They resemble each other when they smile, it’s rather adorable…
Grandma says, “And what do you work as, dear?”
“I’m a Pokemon researcher, specialising in ghost-types.”
”That sounds grand. You must get to see so many interesting Pokemon.”
”I certainly do. I also deal with a lot of hauntings. Did you know there are several types of hauntings? There’s residual, intelligent and poltergeist,” you say. Now that ghosts have been brought up you can’t seem to stop. “Residual hauntings are described as a video playing over and over again at random times. It’s believed to be trapped energy or an imprint because something traumatic happened at that location and thus it is bound. It’s not considered an intelligent haunting which I’m going to go onto next, but it’s widely believed that something can trigger it to occur such as day or time.”
”Now, an intelligent haunting,” you continue, oblivious to your audience and if they are actually listening, “is associated with a consciousness. For example, the consciousness of a dead person and therefore it’s more the most common type of haunting which investigators like myself would look into and it’s a lot more common than one would think.”
”And a poltergeist haunting,” you’re still outlining as you busily cut into your steak, “people are under the impression that they are malevolent ghosts, usually demons, and they’re very violent, throwing things around and attacking people and-“
You finally stop when you realise Leon’s family are staring at you with incredulous expressions and even Leon himself, is watching you mutely.
There is a brief silence as your cheeks go red with embarrassment.
”Ah........ sorry, I got carried away. Ahem.”
Leon’s mum breaks the silence, laughing awkwardly but you feel the atmosphere of the table has become severely gloomy all of a sudden...and it's all because of you and your talk of ghosts. “That’s all very interesting, my dear. Do take care of yourself. And what do your parents do?” she asks.
“They’re ghost-type Pokemon researchers too."
“And where are they right now?”
You hesitate to answer and all eyes land on you. “…They’re...they’re uh…” you struggle to reply, clinching your fork tightly. Leon notices as your expression gradually grows more and more uncomfortable. “It’s hard to explain.”
Leon’s mum asks, “How so?”
“Mum,” Leon says, and she gasps.
“Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”
“No, no, it’s okay,” you say quickly, “They went missing."
"Missing??"
You nod and suddenly, the table goes quiet. You’ve never told Leon this either so he glances at you in surprise as you stare at your plate of uneaten food. Suddenly, you have lost your appetite even though you were hungry earlier.
It continues to be quiet and awkward around the table as Leon’s family throws each other discomfiting glances, knowing that they've put you in an awkward position.
However, you clear your throat and flash a reassuring smile at everyone, cutting into your steak as delicately as possible. “It was a while ago. I haven't stopped looking for them since," you reply.
“My dear, I am so sorry,” Leon’s grandmother reaches over and squeezes on your hand, “Is there anything we can do?”
You shake your head.
The conversation gravitates away from you and you inwardly breathe a sigh of relief. You haven’t been on the spotlight for such a long time that it was fairly intolerable. Leon begins to peek at you at random intervals; he's hoping to be subtle but you can tell when someone is staring at you, and as the dinner continues, you don’t look at him nor does he say anything to you and vice versa.
The barbecue is over and all the leftover food, dirty plates and cutlery are carried into the kitchen to be washed.
You volunteer to clean up but Leon’s family assure you once again that you are a guest and they want you to spend more time with the champion. You are left on your own devices but when you are about to pass the kitchen, you accidentally overhear Leon's mum inside.
"Is she okay?" Leon's mum asks, "She has sad eyes."
Sad eyes? You have....sad eyes?? You weren't aware, and you tiptoe away from the kitchen and back into the yard to ponder how on earth to get happier-looking eyes. Maybe you should smile more? Arceus, you have no idea...
You return to the outdoor table and Leon emerges from the house and to the yard, snapping you out of your miserable thoughts when he tells you he has something to show you so you head back into the house and retreat upstairs.
He takes you to the top level and into the hallway where he jumps an inch or so off the ground and grabs a little string that is dangling off the ceiling and tugs on it; it is looped to a square hatch on the ceiling and he pulls it down, revealing a rope ladder that will take you to the rooftop.
Leon climbs up first which you are grateful for considering you are wearing a dress, and when you are at the top rung, he gives you his hand and you slink your little palm into his and he hoists you up onto the roof. There are several pairs of flip-flops the family uses whilst walking around the roof, and Leon hands you a pair which you slip over your feet whilst he slips on a pair of his own.
"How's your hand?" he asks.
"It's healing, so all good," you mutter, and you can’t help but notice that your hands fit well together, though his palm is considerably larger, your fingers curl together neatly, his thumb sweeping over your knuckles.
When you unintentionally give him a squeeze, you’re surprised to feel that he squeezes your hand back. His palm is a little sweaty however, and you wonder if he’s held hands with a girl before.
Leon carefully makes his way around the roof, holding your hand along the way. You’re suddenly aware of how high you are as you tread over the bumpy, uneven surface; you briefly peer over the ledge, you see Charizard below with Gengar, who are vigilant in case either of you should lose balance and fall.
Although it’s dark outside now, you can see that Leon’s cheeks are fairly pink as he leads you over to a clean spot.
He finally releases your hand to sit down and you join him, settling yourself carefully and tucking your dress underneath as neatly as possible. The rooftops grants a beautiful view of Postwick and Wedgehurst as you sit side-by-side; you can see various Wooloo and Dubwools in the fields being herded into barns by farmers for the night. Their white wool makes them stick out like sore thumbs in the darkness.
The air has grown extremely chilly now and your dress isn’t helping you here so Leon quickly pulls off his sweater to loop the thick fabric around your shoulders and over your back. As you thank him, this thoroughly reminds you of the time when you watched the sunrise together.
You and Leon stare over the horizon; a blanket of darkness sweeps the sky, illuminated by the stars and the lush full moon. Down below and you see rows and rows of little lights emitting from the windows of the cottages that are spread out. You can also see Wedgehurst train station whose clock face is lit up with a tawny glow. It’s incredibly serene and tranquil here and you sigh under your breath.
”Leon?”
”Yeah?”
”Am I a kook?”
He immediately emits a loud laugh at your question. “No!”
”But... when we were having dinner...”
”You’re passionate about your work which we can see, and I admire that. Don’t forget that I’ve seen you work, remember? There are things out there that can’t be explained and you’re the only one who’s dedicating their time and energy and effort to look into it. No one is as brave as you are.”
Your lip wobbles furiously at his words. “Thank you, Leon. For a second there, I...I doubted myself, believing I am not normal. I’m far from it."
Leon offers you a reassuring smile. “If the Champion of Galar thinks you’re wonderful and perfectly normal and fine the way you are, then you are.”
Your face grows red in response as he shifts his gaze to the night sky.
Leon thinks you are wonderful and perfectly normal...
...and fine just the way you are.
Your heart begins to thump hard as you thank him whilst emitting a meek sniff.
“I'm sorry about earlier,” Leon suddenly mutters, “I hope you didn’t feel pressurised.”
“It’s fine, it’s normal that people get curious whenever it’s to do with my family, and I haven’t spoken about them for a while.” you reply, sighing, “And it didn't happen at the same time by the way."
As you focus your gaze to the starry sky above you and pull your knees to your chest, Leon watches you worriedly; he copies your movement, lifting his knees to his chest too.
"It was my father and Rosie first, then my mum disappeared a few months later."
Leon senses your discomfort and says, “What can I do to help? I can speak to the Chairman, we can do a television broadcast, radio or-"
You respond with a weak smile, shaking your head. "None of those are going to work, Leon."
He looks confused. "Why not?"
"A lot of people think they're dead so they refuse to help me but I don't believe them and so I've been working hard to get them back since I moved to Galar, and I'm doing everything I can. I'll get them back myself. Only I can do it."
Noticing your saddened expression, Leon isn’t sure what else he can say to ease the situation nor does he know if it’s wise to press you further on this matter. Therefore he slowly moves to slide his hand over yours, grasping your fingers tightly.
You glance at his hand over yours in surprise and he takes a deep breath before he says, "I have an idea. I know what will cheer you up.”
“What?”
“A ride over the Slumbering Weald,” Leon says, before he lets go of you to stand and takes a small step towards the edge of the roof.
“Leon, be careful.”
He turns to you with a grin, “I’ll be fine -- hey Charizard, you there, buddy?”
A few seconds later, Charizard appears before him in the air. He greets you two with a snort, air puffing from his nostrils before he lands in front on an empty spot over the roof, his claws crunching under the hard tiles and he folds his wings, throwing his gaze to the two of you.
With a grin, Leon climbs on Charizard’s awaiting back and holds his hand out to you. “C’mon.”
You tug your spare bobble off your wrist to tie your hair into a tight ponytail before standing up and carefully making your way until Charizard reaches for you and bites on the hem of your dress, pulling you forwards.
“Alright, alright…” you utter, wondering what he is so impatient about but it seems he wants you to be as close to Leon as possible.
The champion grins haplessly at his friend and you slip your hand into his; you assumed you’d sit behind him but Leon suggests you sit in front of him and you do so anxiously, swinging one leg over Charizard’s back and with Leon’s help, you’re quickly seated comfortably over the flame pokemon.
“Comfy?” Leon asks, and you nod. “Okay, let’s go.”
He proceeds to inch even closer to you than possible as he lean forwards and levies his weight gently over your back and shoulder, you have no choice but to lower yourself to a somewhat forty five degree angle so he can reach and grab onto Charizard firmly, caging you within his arms securely at the same time.
“Oh my…” you croak out, as Leon settles himself behind you, his chin almost touching your shoulder.
Heat rushes to your cheeks as his sturdy chest presses smoothly against your back and you feel the light, feathery brush of his lips by your ear; your heart begins to thump frantically and you gulp the growing lump in your throat.
“What’s the matter?” he asks; you hope he doesn't notice.
“Nothing. So uh, how many miles per hour can Charizard reach?”
“Over a hundred or so, I think, but we’re gonna go nice and slow today, won’t we, buddy?”
Charizard snorts and rolls his eyes again as Leon pats his neck and the flame pokemon takes off from the rooftop with a kick of his hind legs and soars into the air.
“To the Slumbering Weald, Charizard!” Leon exclaims, pointing to a massive cluster of misty, foggy trees in the distance.
Charizard has allowed you to ride on his back before but it’s worse with Leon seated closely behind you and speaking so smoothly in your ear. It’s a nerve-wracking and tense ride and as the pokemon picks up speed and zooms towards the direction of the woods, Charizard deliberately flies into a thick batch of clouds and you squeeze your eyes shut as the wisps smack you in the face. When Charizard emerges, you cough and splutter from the moisture of the cloud.
Charizard is purposefully making the flight bumpy and so you cling on for dear life; as you're jostled for the third or fourth time, which forces an anxious squeak from your lungs and Leon's chest to press further over your back as he ensures you're fine; then he carefully slips one arm around the front of your waist to prevent you from slipping or losing grip, sending uncontrollable tingles to shoot down your spine. This is either the ride of heaven, or hell.
Soon, the pokemon settles for a smooth and slower pace so your gut can unclench. Leon notices your calmer disposition and grins. “Not used to flying, are you?”
“N-not really,” you choke out, when you realise he is unfazed.
You have to admit you prefer the Corviknight taxi over this. There is less turbulence, that's for certain.
And as you gradually relax, your fingers don't cling onto the Pokemon's leathery skin so tightly and Leon's arm loosens in grip, though you were getting a little used to having his arm around you. His warmth was so welcoming and made you snug, and now you're slowly becoming cold.
Whilst you wonder how long the ride will take, the Slumbering Weald looms into view; a misty and muggy fog hangs over the bizarre forest and down below, you can see Galarian Weezing and Munna lurking in the dark grass.
Charizard glances around for a suitable spot to land and when a large but broken stone arch and an altar surrounded by water appears in the horizon, he begins to descend and lands within the spring, nestling himself carefully over the ground; Leon slides off Charizard’s back and scoops you off, sliding his arms around your waist.
“Thanks,” you murmur as he helps you onto the ground.
“No problem. How was the flight?”
“All good," you say meekly with a thumbs up, though you're really wanting to suppress the urge to hurl.
Leon grins and pats Charizard warmly, “Thanks bud.”
Charizard growls loudly with affection as the two of you glance around your new surroundings.
Strangely enough, the temperature here is warmer than Postwick and although you most certainly are alone here, the woods feel alive.
The stone arch stands proudly before you with a glistening stream of water to your left, the altar itself is illuminated by a beam of moonlight that shines between the leaves of the thick trees that surround it. Despite the beautiful scenery, the quietness of the woods perturbs you.
“Look,” Leon says, and you follow to where he is pointing to.
Glittering pearls of multi-coloured light float gently in the atmosphere within the middle of the altar and you head over to inspect; you use your fingertip to prod at some of the lights and there is a faint chiming sound as it disappears once your fingertips make contact, vanishing into mist.
“I know what this is…It’s a fairy light…” you mutter, peering at the little lights curiously before you cup some in your palm and return to his side.
“Fairy light?” Leon utters, as you open your palm and blow gently, the light sprinkling over his face and hair. He looks up and around as it gets caught in his bangs and you giggle lightly.
“Yeah…they're very similar to a will o’wisp and they're identical to the lights emitted by Morelull. You can see a lot more in Ballonlea and in higher concentrations…” you say as you raise your arm, hold your hand out and more lights settle into your palm, “If you follow a trail, it’s supposed to lead to the fairy folk of Galar.”
Leon looks intrigued as you continue your ramblings, oblivious.
“The fairy folk steal children away, never to be seen again. Sometimes it’s out of malice, to punish neglectful parents… but in the end, what they do with the children, nobody knows. It’s a shame I don’t come here often because there’s so much interesting myth, though unfortunately not ghost-related.”
Holding your hand out again, the little lights settle in the base of your palm once more and you gently blow them away, sending an array of glittering lights into the air. You smile widely as the shimmering lights dance around you, the twinkling lights casting a warm glow on your face.
“It’s so beautiful here,” you murmur as the lights gently float in the air, dancing around you.
“Yeah…” he breathes out.
When you turn round, you see his eyes are glued to your form and you tense on the spot; anxiety sweeps over you upon realisation that you’re completely bathed in the light and thus you hurriedly step away.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to ramble about fairies stealing children away. Just make sure Hop doesn’t come here on his own, or he might come back but it’s not really him, it’s actually a changeling and-” you promptly stop yourself in time, mentally kicking yourself. “Sorry.”
Leon chuckles loudly in response and your face grows warm as you nervously place your hands behind your back whilst Leon crosses his arms. “I can take you here again tomorrow when it’s daylight if you’d like,” he replies.
You purse your lips. “I’ll be asleep, most likely.”
“Oh.” he sounds disappointed.
“Thanks for bringing me here though. I feel better now.”
The look of disappointment vanishes from his handsome face, replaced with a grin. “Of course! Anytime.”
When your smile broadens, his grin widens too and you are both gazing at each other wordlessly; his eyes search your face for a few seconds or so until you realise that you’re staring and you hastily break off the eye contact, swerving your gaze to the side where you see more of the little pearly light surrounding you.
“Oh, uh, I have something to show you,” Leon adds, before he fumbles through his pockets and brings out two capsules, “Come on out, guys!”
Tossing them into the air, you stare as an Aegislash and a Dragapult emerge and Leon beams at his pokemon as they immediately head over to him, greeting him affectionately. Leon gives Dragapult a hefty pat on his head and smiles warmly at Aegislash.
“I have some ghost-type pokemon on my team,” Leon says, “I thought you’d like to meet them.”
You blink blankly before a massive grin appears on your face. You’ve never seen such wondrous critters in person, and so close, too! “I didn’t know you had an Aegislash and a Dragapult, Leon.”
Leon chuckles bashfully at your enthusiasm, then introduces you to the pokemon and they float over to your side curiously; Dragapult sniffs you and the two Dreepy’s it carries in it’s horns float out and peer at you enquiringly before they decide to slink around your arms and shoulders, making you giggle as they weave in and out of your hair and over your neck and cheeks.
Aegislash offers you his lilac ribbon which you are about to touch until Leon quickly grabs your hand albeit gently.
“Be careful….he might drain some of your life force,” he warns.
“Oh, that’s okay, I don't mind, it would be good for an experiment,” you reply, as he slowly releases you, “Leon, this is amazing. Aegislash are known to stay loyal to people who have qualities of a true leader. They’re also featured in historical paintings depicting kings.”
Leon’s face grows red as he contemplates your words, “…I’ve had him since he was a Honedge…”
He’s being modest again, which makes you smile and Leon responds with a wide grin of his own.
Aegislash proceeds to circle you inquisitively whilst Dragapult slinks around and tickles the tip of your nose with his transparent tail.
“Thanks for showing me your pokemon, Leon. I can tell they’re very well-cared for.”
Leon flashes you a gentle smile. “Thank you.”
As you return his smile, Leon holds your gaze once more and you’re both staring at each other until Charizard snaps the both of you out by emitting a loud huff, indicating that it’s time to leave which relieves you of this strict tension you have constantly experienced between yourself and the Champion.
“It’s getting late. We should head back,” Leon says, and you nod.
After he recalls his pokemon, the two of you hop onto his back once more and you leave the vicinity of the woods.
Charizard carries the two of you safely back to the front door of his house. Checking your wristwatch, you decide to head home. The pokemon allows you to hop off his back and Leon helps you, holding your hand tightly in his once again. You briefly enter the house to say goodbye to his family and to pick up your belongings before Leon escorts you outside.
“I had a great time,” you say as Gengar greets you before jumping into your shadow, hitching a ride. “I wish we could do this more often. It’s a shame you’re booked out for the rest of the year.”
Leon hesitates before he replies with a rather despondent, “Me too.”
“Well, uh…I better go now. Thanks again for having me over. Goodnight.”
“Wait. I’ll walk you,” he says quickly before you can leave the doorstep and you glance at him questioningly as he quickly grabs a hooded jacket off the coat rack and throws it on, then he steps out of his house and shuts the door quietly behind him. Leon recalls Charizard and rushes up to you with his hands in his pockets, grinning.
You give him an awkward smile and you begin the walk; he stays close to you, much like how he did in the hospital despite the ample space of the empty path, your shoulders bumping together.
Once you reach your house, the lights are on and you stop at the front door and slowly turn to him only for you to almost bump into his chest. He’s standing so close to you...
“Thanks for walking me back,” you squeak out, and he takes a step backwards as though aware of your close proximity.
“No problem.”
”Will you make your way back okay?”
”Yeah, Charizard will help.”
“Oh, cool. So I’ll see you again…someday?”
“Yeah,” he murmurs, before he reaches for your bandaged hand and you stiffen when he clutches your palm tightly with his, curling his fingers tightly around yours before he brings your entwined hands to his chest.
“…Leon?” you breathe out, eyes wide.
“Charizard told me what happened. I won’t forget what you did for me,” he says softly, and you hold your breath. “I wanted to ask if…you would like to see the sunrise with me again?”
Your breath becomes stuck in your throat but you manage to croak out, “Tonight?”
He’s still holding your hand, which he grips with far more pressure than before, “Ah, um…not tonight, but some other day.”
“Oh…sure, I’d love to.”
He seems delighted with your response. “Thanks. I better go back now. Goodnight.”
“G-goodnight.”
With a huge grin, Leon releases your hand and proceeds to rush off, dashing down the path until he is out of sight. You open the door clumsily and stumble into the house, your heart racing as you remove your coat and hang it on the hook.
“Hey, you’re back! How was it?”
Looking up, you see Sonia at the stairs, holding Yamper under one arm.
��It was good,” you reply, and you outline the details briefly albeit skipping the part about Leon falling on top of you and your short trip with him to the Slumbering Weald. Overall, you had fun and you can’t stop smiling, which she notices of course.
She giggles and retreats upstairs whilst you head up to shower and get changed into your nightwear; you also decide to slap on a cucumber mask too because your skin's looking rather pasty and dull. Returning to the living room, you see Gengar lounging around with Poltea and Cutie and you remember you had captured Mimikyu.
With Mimikyu’s capsule in hand, you let it out and Mimikyu emerges; it’s two little glowing eyes blink up at you and your pokemon (Gengar in particular), before it dashes behind the coffee table to hide.
You watch as Poltea and Cutie head over and they briefly communicate with it, coaxing it out of its hiding place. It’s still using that hideous doll disguise and you carefully step forwards; once you spy it hiding behind one of the table legs, it starts hissing threateningly at you.
“Hey Mimikyu," you murmur in a gentle voice as you crouch before the small pokemon yet it continues hissing, the twinkling dots underneath the ruined fabric glowing brightly with apprehension. “I’m sorry we ruined your hair and costume. How about I make you a new one?”
It ceases to hiss at you and blinks. “…Mi mi?”
You nod with a smile, “Of course.”
Lowering your arm, it takes a small step forwards and then hops onto your elbow where it’s as light as a feather and you look at it and it looks at you before you smile; though it lets out an indignant huff under it’s breath, you carry it out of the lounge and into the bedroom, opening the door where you see Sonia at her vanity table, brushing her hair until she spots the ragdoll and shrieks.
“W-what is that?!”
“It’s a Mimikyu,” you say with a wide grin, “I’m going to make it a new costume. Can I borrow your sewing kit?”
“Sure…” Sonia watches with widened eyes as you head over to your cupboard and pull out a drawer where you keep some old clothes you can depart with.
“What do you think?” you ask.
“Hmm…Mi mi mi,” it says with content, nodding.
“Go crazy,” you reply, and Mimikyu glances at each of the shirts curiously.
“Mi mi,” it replies, before its stitch mouth splits apart to unleash a long and black, shadowy tendril and making it point to a grey shirt. Sonia stares at this appendage as she inches her sewing kit towards your direction.
“This one?” you say.
“Mi,” it replies, nodding.
“Don’t you want to look like Pikachu?”
It shakes its head. “Mi. Mi mi mimikyuuu.”
“You prefer your ragdoll disguise?”
“Mi,” it confirms with a stern nod.
“Got it,” you take out the grey shirt and thank Sonia for letting you borrow her sewing kit, then Mimikyu spots your scissors, along with a ball of black yarn near your stationary tub and grabs those using two shadowy tendrils and you both make your way downstairs.
Seating yourself on the lounge, you let Mimikyu hop off and sit beside you on the couch before you switch on the TV with your feet up. Mimikyu takes the fabric off you with several shadowy tendrils along with the scissors and begins snipping away, singing to itself in various octaves.
As Mimikyu hands you the trimmed fabric, you look at the expert handiwork. Mimikyu must be used to fixing it's costume, and you open the sewing kit and take out some grey thread and a needle and begin sewing the fabric together. Occasionally, it will help you by using a shadow tendril to hold the fabric in place whilst you sew together a finicky part.
You occasionally throw glances to see how Mimikyu is doing before you recall that no-one has ever seen what Mimikyu looks like underneath its disguise. One scientist even died from shock, apparently.
Therefore you slowly reach a hand and pinch one small corner of the ragdoll body with your fingers and attempt to look inside only for Mimikyu to slap your hand away in the span of a split second with a shadowy tendril.
“Ow!” you retreat your hand and cradle it to your chest as Mimikyu wags one clawed finger at you in a chiding manner. “Sorry…I won’t do that again."
"Mi!"
"Yes, I know I could've died."
Suddenly, the phone rings and Rotom flies over to you. “Leon izzz calling!” he exclaims gleefully and you sit up properly in your seat.
“Leon???” you utter in surprise and Rotom nods as he switches to video mode and you see Leon on screen, grinning at you.
He’s in his nightwear consisting of a white t-shirt and black joggers and when he gets a look at you in your nightclothes and cucumber mask, the grin widens.
“H-hi Leon.”
“Hey!” he greets you cheerfully, “Sorry to call you so late, but Citizen Kangaskhan is on TV. Would you like to watch it together?”
“Really?” you exclaim, whilst Mimikyu continues singing to itself.
“Yeah, it’s – oh, is that…?”
“Yeah, it’s Mimikyu. I’m helping her make a new costume,” you say with a smile as you glance at the pokemon and Rotom hovers to Mimikyu who looks up.
“Hi Mimikyu!”
“Mi…me hello.”
You feel numerous chills run down your spine, “Bloody hell, Mimikyu, I forgot you could speak some of the human language. I'll need to study you later if you don't mind."
“Mi…heehee," Mimikyu replies happily and Leon chuckles.
“What channel is it on?”
“Sixty two.”
“Alright, let’s watch together,” you grab the remote control and change it to the channel and indeed, Citizen Kangaskhan is playing. You get comfortable as your Rotom settles beside you on the empty seat of the couch.
Together, you watch the movie, with you and Mimikyu sewing the new costume whilst sitting together in the safety of your house, and Leon in his own.
...
#leon#dande#Leon x you#Leon x reader#reader insert#fanfic#fic#archive of our own#jeralee#comfort in despair#reader#pkmn#pokemon#pokemonshield#pokemonsword#pokemon shield and sword
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Kitty Love Zine Collaboration
We’re finally able to share our pieces! This was a very special zine for me, because it was the Marichat side of the lovesquare that gave me recognition as a writer in the Miraculous Ladybug fandom. Being part of this project was basically a dream come true. So huge thank you to the @kittylovezine team for allowing me to be part of this wonderful zine.
Also, huge shoutout to @corgi-likes-chat, who made the gorgeous art that goes along with my story (check it out here) and also made stickers. And to @128andfalling for being a wonderful beta and helping me make the story come out at its best.
There’s also leftovers being sold right now, so hurry up and check here, before they run out.
A Breath of You
Any other day, Marinette would be transformed helping Chat Noir fight whatever akuma Hawkmoth sent. Unfortunately, the one day she decided to leave Tikki with Master Fu while she delivered new designs to Jagged Stone was the one day an akuma attacked Le Grand Paris.
Triton, as the aqua-controlling villain called himself, trapped Marinette and Chat Noir in the kitchen of the hotel and started to flood the room with water.
“Don’t worry. I’ll get us outta here,” Chat Noir assured as the water reached their waists.
He started beating the ice that was holding the doors to the dinning room shut. Because controlling water was not enough, Marinette thought miserably, hoping the water now soaking her shirt would not suddenly change state.
After several wacks with his staff, Chat Noir had barely dented the thick ice.
“It’s working!”
“Is there any way to go faster?”
The boy turned to look at her with a confused frown, only to realize the water was already reaching Marinette’s chest. By instinct, he lifted her atop the nearby counter, the water now at her calves.
“Stand there while I break that.”
“What about when it reaches your head?” Marinette asked worriedly.
“I’m a superhero, remember?” With a wink, he went back to the doors and continued his labor.
“You’re not invincible, Chat,” she shot back.
But the boy didn’t respond, focusing instead on the task at hand. Only minutes had passed before the water was once again reaching Marinette’s waist and Chat Noir struggled to keep himself afloat.
“Just use Cataclysm!”
“I can’t!”
“Why?”
Instead of responding, Chat Noir took a deep breath and swam towards Marinette. He climbed the counter and placed his hands on her shoulders.
“Marinette, can you swim?”
“Why are you ask—”
“Can you swim?!”
“I-I… well, y-yeah, but why are you asking?!”
Chat Noir bit his lip. “There’s more water leaking out from the other side. If I use Cataclysm, it could drown you. I could never forgive myself if something awful happened to you.”
“But what about you?” Marinette clutched his elbows.
“I can handle it,” he assured. She wasn’t convinced.
He didn’t give her time to argue, instead swimming back to the frozen doors. The minutes passed. The water rose. Chat Noir now had to take breaks to surface for air. As for Marinette, the liquid soaked her shoulders.
With newfound concern, she called to Chat Noir.
“Almost there. I promise,” he insisted, swimming back to her.
“And what’s gonna happen once those doors burst open? Which is going to happen.”
“Not if I can help it,” he declared. The water touched Marinette’s chin, and Chat Noir placed his hand under it. “Just hold on a little longer. ”
“Please be careful,” Marinette insisted.
Chat Noir gave her an adoring grin before diving underwater. It wasn’t long before Marinette had to start swimming to keep herself afloat. She could have sworn the kitchen was filling up faster than before. And worse: Chat Noir had been under for too long.
Marinette inhaled deeply and submerged herself in the water. To her relief, the boy was still working on the doors. She could see water coming through cracks in the ice, although much quicker than she expected. Furthermore, Chat Noir didn’t seem to notice the cracks expand as more water rushed in.
Before she could warn him, the doors blew open and flew off their hinges. A large chunk of ice and wood hit Chat Noir’s forehead, knocking him unconscious.
Marinette tried to scream his name, but instead swallowed a mouthful of water. She searched frantically until her eyes landed on the staff sinking to the floor.
Pushing her feet against the wall, she dove down, reaching for the staff to use as a respirator.
After several lung-filling breaths, she took hold of Chat Noir and scanned the kitchen for another exit. It was clear going back the way they came was too dangerous. More so, Chat Noir probably didn’t have long before his unconsciousness became permanent.
Her gaze zeroed in on the large ventilation system above the stoves. Was it big enough to fit both of them? And how would she uncover the large metallic tube to swim to the outside? Would the water even lead them outside?
That was a risk she had to take. Letting go of Chat Noir, she took a deep breath and braced the baton against the wall. Pressing the button, Marinette extended it fast and long enough to hit the exhaust hood, breaking it from its place and uncovering the vents. Marinette grabbed the boy around his chest and started paddling as hard as she could, using the baton as a respirator again. While the vents fit both of them, it was still difficult to move in an area not meant for swimming.
She pushed upward although her muscles started protesting. There was no way she was letting this be their downfall, even if she currently didn’t have the power of Ladybug. Or even her kwami, for that matter.
The fan was finally in sight. Following her instincts, Marinette extended the baton once again to break through it. The whole thing momentarily flew before landing with a heavy thud. As soon as her head broke through the water, she grabbed onto the edge, pulling herself up as best as she could while towing a second body along.
She heaved and grunted as she dragged Chat Noir out of the water and finally into oxygen filled air.
“Chat Noir?” Marinette called, but he didn’t respond. “Chat Noir?!”
She tried tapping his cheeks, but there was no reaction. Marinette placed her ear to his chest, yet his faint heartbeat only seemed to slow.
“Okay, okay,” she tried calming herself. “Think back, how many compressions was it? Wait, should I give air first since he’s not breathing? No, remember the instructions.”
Marinette threw her weight into each compression as she counted to thirty. Blocking all thoughts on the implication of her next move, she tilted Chat Noir’s head. Lifting his chin, she pinched his nose and placed her lips on his. She watched for his chest to rise with the first breath, and then gave him the second one.
Still unconscious.
Marinette continued CPR. Thirty compressions; two breaths. Nothing.
“Please, don’t do this to me!” she yelled as she repeated the cycle. “I can’t do this without you. I need my partner. My friend. My…”
She didn’t finish, instead pressing her lips against his again.
Water filled her mouth as Chat Noir coughed out the liquid in his lungs. Turning on his side, he propped himself up on an elbow, coughing aggressively.
Marinette slapped a hand to her mouth, relief washing over her. The feeling was so overwhelming tears streamed down her cheeks. As the adrenaline started to fade, only one thought remained: Chat Noir almost died.
He almost died in her arms, and she would have been powerless to do anything about it. He almost left her life forever, and she would had never gotten the chance to tell him how she truly felt about him.
Wait. How did she feel about him?
She didn’t remember feeling so scared to lose him until that moment. Not that she ever thought about it before. But now? His absence would mean no more late afternoon visits to her balcony. No more Eiffel Tower meetups. No more ill-timed jokes at which she could roll her eyes. No more roses left on her patio chair while she was out.
No more of the boy who somehow stole her heart.
“Marinette?” His soothing—although currently hoarse—voice spoke. “Why are you crying? What happened?”
The girl hugged herself, more tears rolling down her face. He opened his mouth to ask again, but Marinette didn’t let him speak, rather throwing her arms around his neck.
“You almost died!” she sobbed. “Why are you worried about me? What is it with you and worrying about other people first before yourself? You can’t just ask me why I’m crying when you almost died!”
Despite Chat Noir’s surprise, he softly returned the embrace.
“Marinette, I’m oka—”
“No!” she protested, pulling back enough to look at his face. “This is not okay. I am not okay. You are not okay. I almost lost you, and I don’t know what I would’ve done if that happened.”
Chat Noir blinked, processing what she had just said. As Marinette reflected on her own words, a feeling of embarrassment crept up. She was about to withdraw, when the superhero tenderly rested his forehead against hers.
“I’m sorry you had to rescue me,” he whispered.
Marinette’s heart thudded loudly in her ears. He was so close she could barely think straight. Not to mention how tempting it was to close the gap between them.
“J-just... try not to do it again.”
Chat Noir hummed in agreement, yet didn’t move. The pair sat quietly, afraid if they went their separate ways, they would never see each other again.
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Just A Scratch
aaaaand I made a part 2
Fandom: ATINY
Pairing: prince!Yunho x nonroyal!reader (fem)
Summary: Someone catches the eye of the future king and it isn’t his future queen. [Fluff but some angst because it mentions death as something more desirable than something] Part 1 here
“So be it, if my future only tells of me bound to a stranger I do not love for the rest of my life.” You said waving a hand around, “Maybe no future is better than one with ties.”
“Don’t say things like that!” He scolded. “Life is beautiful, you’re beautiful.”
Your eyes shot open but he was already up and walking away, picking up his pace when the back of his neck warmed.
After that, Yunho found it hard to look at you, without blushing. It seemed simple enough, all he had to do was stop looking at you, only he couldn’t. During breakfast his eyes would wander to you chatting with his fiancee, during gatherings and events, his eyes would linger on your frame for longer than appropriate. If it weren’t for the heat oh his cheeks he probably wouldn’t ever look away. Your queen noticed it first, Yunho would be talking to her but looking at you, and when you looked up you only kept eye contact for a second before the both of you looked away red as apples.
“Something on your mind brother?” Mingi called, kicking the ball towards the elder. Yunho had several things on his mind, ranging from the tension between his and the northern kingdom to seeing you pick flowers with the children from the orphanage. One of those was more prominent in mind mind than the other when it really shouldn’t have been.
“No.” He lied. “Something on yours?” He kicked the ball back with a smile.
“Actually there is someone.” He said holding the ball underneath his foot, Yunho raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “One of Jihyo’s ladies, Y/N, she’s very pretty.” Yunho frowned expecting him to say something about Jihyo herself, not to confess an interest in you.
“Is she? I hadn’t noticed.” He lied, his eyes falling to the floor. Mingi chuckled at his brother.
“Hey you two!” Jihyo called, approaching the boys with you and three other ladies in tow. As soon as he saw you the warmth returned to Yunho’s heart and he smiled again. The four of you bowed in front of the royals. “What were you talking about so seriously?”
“Beautiful women, your majesty.” Mingi answered, picking up the ball from the floor and tucking it under his arm.
“So, me?” She joked as the three of them approached each other.
“Who else is there?” Mingi flirted, Yunho’s eyes flickered up to find your own, an action not unnoticed. Jihyo turned to you.
“Girls I’m okay here, I’ll find you if I need something.” She said dismissing the four of you. You bowed again before you turned and dispersed. The other ladies instantly whispering and giggling amongst themselves.
“Prince Mingi is so handsome and so charming.”
“It seems he’s quite taken with Jihyo.”
“She’s so lucky to be in favour of both princes.” You stopped in your tracks before telling them you would see them later, they bid you farewell and went right back to gossiping. You strolled around the outside of the palace, soaking in the sun and it’s warmth. Around the side of the castle in the middle of the gardens, targets and bows were set up.
You ran your hand along the arrows, it wasn’t where the knights trained so it was peculiar that they were placed there. You hummed to yourself, picking up a bow. As a lady of a certain stature you were never allowed to do things like archery growing up, you were raised for politeness not play.
👑
“Air on the side of caution Yunho.” Jihyo scolded. “You may be a prince free to do as he pleases but Y/N has a reputation that has to stay spotless in the case of potential suitors.”
“I would never do something so careless as to ruin someones life for my own gain.” Yunho glared at his friend. “And what of the two of you? What happens if word gets out about your secret meetups?” He spat, the two looked caught off guard by both Yunho’s words and his tone. “The three of us work so well because we are friends before anything but beyond us the world is all politics. It’s fine for you to run around together once our union is solid but before then our alliance is fragile.”
“Spoken like a true future king.” Mingi said proudly, clasping a hand on his brothers shoulder.
“Yes, it does seem as though he’s put a lot of thought into the possibility of us breaking our engagement.” Jihyo said, raising an eyebrow. “Which means you’ve given thought to a future with a non-royal?” Yunho scoffed, rolling his eyes and shaking his brothers hand off his shoulder like what they were saying was completely ridiculous. “Y/N won’t be a mistress.” Jihyo called after him. “She deserves better than that!” He stalked away furiously without a second glance.
You always thought archery was cool and it looked easy enough so you pulled back the string of the bow and released. Obviously with no training, your arrow flew too far to the left and hit a bush. That would have been embarrassing enough but of course a yelp came from the other side of the bush and Yunho rounded the corner, holding your arrow, the shirt on his bicep slightly torn and bleeding.
“Oh my god.” You gasped. “Your highness I am so sorry.” You bowed.
“First contempt and now an attempt on the prince’s life? You’re not from the northern kingdom are you?” He joked. You avoided his eyes, bowing and apologising again. “Well you can’t be an assassin, your aim is too awful.” He joked, approaching you. You lifted your head to apologise again and when you did he was right in front of you. The tip of the arrow glistened with a small drop of his blood.
“Your highness, you’re bleeding.” You mumbled turning his arm over to take a better look at his wound, a rip in his shirt exposed the clean line cause by the arrow.
“It’s only a scratch.” He whispered, his skin burning from your touch. You could swear you felt his breath fan your cheek and when you looked up you understood why, it was because he was close enough that his breath could reach your cheek. By accident your finger brushed along his wound and he winced in pain, snapping you out of your trance, and the prince as well. He cleared his throat as if it would have the same effect on his mind. “May I?” He asked, taking the bow from your hand slowly.
You stood back as he took his stance in front of the target, his position was strong and confident, very much like the the prince himself. He pulled the string of the bow back and released, the arrow hit the centre of the target easily.
“Quite impressive your majesty.” You complimented him.
“Not if you’ve been practising since you were six.” He laughed, turning back to you. “Would you like to try again?” He asked offering you the bow. You looked at it hesitantly, “I’ll keep a safe distance I promise.” You took the bow in your hands and watched as he stepped back further than where you were standing. He grinned. “You’re right that’s far too close.” He shook his head taking another few paces back, making you laugh. You pouted, bringing the bow up, trying to mimic his stance.
“Your feet need to be further apart, no not that far, as far as your shoulders, yeah that’s good, now lift your arm, no your other arm, not that much- uh- just-” He walked up to you placing his hands on your shoulders, moving them into position, then his hands moved to your arms raising your hands so the aim was right. “Now pull back your hand with all of your strength until your hand is touching the corner of your mouth, that’s it, a little more-” He sighed, coming up behind you again, placing his hands on yours.
His large frame towered over yours and your cheeks heated at his touch, he pulled the string back until it was at the corner of your mouth and suddenly you became conscious of the softness of your lips. “Like this.” He whispered in your ear, releasing the bow once more to hit the target exactly. It was exhilarating to have your arrow hit the mark but without Yunho’s help you probably would have injured someone else. You turned around to tell him this but it seemed that he was even closer than before.
One of his hands rested on your waist, while the other came up to wipe the smudge of lipstick on the corner of your mouth, then to cup your cheek. You were dizzy, he was so close you could barely think straight but you knew enough to know as good as his hand felt on you it was all wrong. You brought your hand up to graze his wound, hoping it would snap you both out of making a terrible mistake.
“Your majesty, you’re hurt.”
He shook his head.
“Only a scratch.” He whispered, against your lips.
Part 3 ~
#ateez imagines#ateez scenarios#jeong yunho imagine#jeong yunho fluff#ateez fluff#ateez x reader#ateez drabbles#ateez reactions#royal au#ateez prince au
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Worm 2.3 - In which Taylor has the best day ever
I didn’t have any time to contemplate the message I’d received from Tattletale. The bell rang and I had to hurry to properly log off and shut down before heading to my next class. As I gathered my stuff, I realized I had been so caught up in researching on the villains I’d met last night and in Tattletale’s message that I had forgotten to worry about getting into trouble for skipping class. I felt a kind of resignation as I realized I would have to face the music later in the day, anyways.
Time flies when you’re having fun, or at least reading about interesting stuff. Like the fact that a member of a villanous group maaay or may not have solicited a meetup.
Also the classes you missed would eventually come back around to bite you, so it’s better that it happens now.
Madison was already in her seat as I got to the classroom. She had a pair of girls crouching by either side of her desk, and all three of them broke into giggles as they saw me. Bitches.
Ugh. What a great start to the next class. This is going to suck.
My seat of choice was the far right, front row, closest to the door. Lunch hour and immediately after school was when the trio tended to give me the hardest time, so I tried to sit as close as possible to the door, for a quick escape. I spotted a puddle of orange juice on the seat, with the empty plastic bottle lying just underneath the chair. Madison was going for a two for one. It was both a ‘prank’ and a reminder of how they had doused me with juice and soft drinks last Friday. Irritated, I carefully avoided looking at Madison and took an empty seat a few rows back.
Taylor don’t you know that’s not the seat where the protagonist must be? Read up on your tropes!
Also uuuuugghhhh, the bitches supreme continue with their pathetic teasing bullshit.
Mr Gladly entered the room, he was short and young enough you could almost mistake him for another high school student. It took a few minutes for him to start the class, and he immediately ordered us to break into groups of four to share our homework with one another and to prepare to share it with the rest of the class. The group that had the most to contribute would win the prize he had mentioned on Friday, treats from the vending machine.
Oh and this is great too!
Honestly, the less palsy and group exercise-y my teachers are, the better. I don’t like having to do weird assignments and then share it with everybody else. The introvert in me dies a violent death thinking about it.
It was stuff like this that made Mr. Gladly my least favorite teacher. I got the impression he’d be surprised to hear he was anyone’s least favorite teacher, but that was just one more point against him in my book. I don’t think he comprehended why people might not like him, or how miserable group work was when you didn’t identify with any of the groups or cliques in the school. He just figured people liked doing group work because it let them talk and hang out with their friends in class.
Seems like Taylor agrees with me! Sometimes it can be fun, but yeaaaah.
While the class got sorted, I figured I’d avoid standing around like a loser with no group to join and get something else out of the way. I approached the desk at the front of the room.
“Mr. Gladly?”
“Call me Mr. G. Mr. Gladly is my dad,” he informed me with a sort of mock sternness.
Oh god he just did that.
“Sorry, uh, Mr. G. I need a new textbook.”
He gave me a curious look, “What happened to your old one?”
Soaked with grape juice by a trio of harpies. “I lost it,” I lied.
“Replacement textbooks are thirty five dollars. I don’t expect it now, but…”
“I’ll have it for you by the end of the week,” I finished for him.
Taylor don’t lie about these things. He probably won’t do jack shit, but downplaying your situation isn’t a good thing to do!
He handed me a textbook, and I looked over the room before joining the only group with room for more: Sparky and Greg. We had been in a group several times before, as the leftovers when all the friends and cliques had banded together.
At least you have company....?
Sparky and Greg sounds like a comedy duo, honestly.
Sparky had apparently picked up his nickname when a third grade teacher used it in an ironic sense, and it had stuck, to the point where I doubted anyone but his own mother even knew his real name. He was a drummer, long haired, and was so out of touch with reality that you could stop talking in the middle of a sentence and he wouldn’t notice. He just went through life in a daze, presumably until he could do his thing, which was his band.
Fun fact, the “nickname becoming his only name” is a real thing. We had a classmate we just called Pan, and I don’t know where that originated from, but it wasn’t his real name or even close. I don’t think we ever knew his real name...
School is weird.
Also he seems veeery zoned out, holy shit. This one won’t contribute anything to the group project, huh?
Greg was just the opposite. He was smarter than average, but he had a way of saying every thought that came into his head – his train of thought didn’t have any brakes. Or tracks. It would have been easier to be in a group with just Sparky and essentially do the work by myself than it would be to work with Greg.
I have met a Greg. I have met at least two Gregs. We all have probably met a Greg somewhere
So we have a chillaxed drummer and an overeager fuckup. Looks like it’s time to begin the classic show “Let’s to this group essay by ourselves!”
Yaay!
I got my share of the homework out of my new backpack. Mr. Gladly had asked us to come up with a list of ways that capes had influenced society. In between the various steps of my getting ready for my first night out in costume, I had taken the time to fix up my art project and had come up with a fairly comprehensive list for Mr. Gladly’s homework. I had even used newspaper and magazine clippings to support my points. I felt pretty good about it.
Taylor is pretty efficient about her work, I like it.
A way in which it has influenced society is that now instead of normal crime bosses, we have regenarative metal-scaled hellfire-spewing living human dragon crime bosses. Don’t ask me how I know or why I smell of ash and smoke.
“I didn’t get much done,” Greg said, “I got distracted by this new game I got and it is really really good, it’s called Space Opera, have you played it?”
Oh--Ohno
Greg no
A full minute later he was still on the same topic, even though I wasn’t playing any attention to him or giving him any feedback on what he was saying, “…you have to understand it’s a genre, and it’s one I’ve really been getting into it lately, since I started watching this anime called – Oh, hey, Julia!” Greg broke off from his monologue to wave with enough energy and excitement that I felt a little embarrassed to just be sitting next to him. I turned in my seat to see one of Madison’s friends coming in, late.
Oh god this boy is a walking human disaster.
“Can I be in Madison’s group?” Julia asked Mr. Gladly.
“That wouldn’t be fair. Greg’s group only has three people. Help them,” Mr. Gladly said.
Julia walked over to where we were sitting and made a face. Just loud enough for us to hear, she muttered a disgusted, “Ew.” I felt much the same about her joining us.
nooooooo
The bad situation got even worse!!
Whyyyy
It was downhill from there. Madison’s group moved so the four of them were sitting right next to our group, which let Julia talk with them while still sitting with us. The presence of all the popular and attractive girls in the class just got Greg more wound up, and he began trying to insert himself into their conversation, only to get shut down or ignored. It was embarrassing to watch.
Well this class is being all around fantastic.
If the bitches are the apocalypse then Greg is blowing the fucking trumpets.
“Greg,” I said, trying to distract him from the other group, “Here’s what I did over the weekend. What do you think?”
I handed him the work I had done. To his credit, he gave it a serious read.
“This is really good, Taylor,” He said, when he was done.
“Let me see,” Julia said. Before I could stop him, Greg dutifully handed my work over to her. I watched her glance over it, then toss it onto Madison’s table. There were a few giggles.
NO
“Give that back,” I said.
“Give what back?” Julia said.
“Madison,” I said, ignoring Julia, “Give it back.”
Madison, cute and petite and crush of choice for half the guys in our grade, turned and managed a combined look and tone of such condescension that a grown man would have flinched, “Nobody is talking to you, Taylor.”
Aaaaaaaaaaaaa
Why are they the worst! They are masterful at being the worst!!
That was that. Short of running to the teacher and complaining, I wasn’t going to get my work back, and anyone who considered that an option has clearly never been in high school. Greg looked between me and the girls with a kind of panic before settling into a funk, Sparky had his head down on his desk, either asleep or close to it, and I was left fuming. I made an attempt at trying to to salvage things, but getting Greg to focus was impossible, as he constantly tried to apologize and made lame attempts to convince the other group to give my work back. Our time ran out, and Mr. Gladly picked out people from each group to stand up and go over what they had come up with.
*flips an infinite number of tables*
This is painful and very realistic at the same time! You sure know how to evoke gigantic feelings of frustration, Wildbow!
I sighed as Mr. Gladly picked Greg to do our group’s presentation, and was forced to watch Greg botch it badly enough that Mr. Gladly asked him to sit down before he was finished. Greg was one of those kids I always figured made teachers groan inwardly when they raised their hands in class. The sort of kid that took twice as long to answer as anyone else, and was often only half-right or so off-tangent that it derailed the discussion. I couldn’t imagine what had possessed Mr. Gladly to pick Greg to do our group’s presentation.
And of course Greg is the one picked! Of couuurse.
The universe is a petty bitch like that.
Honestly Taylor, the fact that you haven’t said fuck it, and gone Exodus on the school is proof that you are a good person.
What made things worse was that I then got to watch Madison rattle off my very impressive sounding list of ways capes had changed the world. She cribbed almost all of my stuff; fashion, economics, Tinkers and the tech boom, the fact that movies, television and magazines had been tweaked to accommodate cape celebrities, and so on. Still, she got it wrong when explaining how law enforcement had changed. My point had been that with qualified capes easing the workload and taking over for most high profile crises, law enforcement of all stripes were more free to train and expand their skill sets, making for smarter, more versatile cops. Madison just made it sound like they got a lot of vacation days.
Oh fuck off Madison! At least you explained it wrong, you absolute dick.
This is just the “Taylor’s life sucks” episode, isn’t it?
Mr. Gladly named another group as the winners, by virtue of the sheer number of things they had come up with, though he made a point of saying the quality of Madison’s work was nearly good enough to count. From there, he moved on to his lecture.
At least she didn’t win. There is some justice in the world.
A pitiful, insignificant amount...
I was steamed and I could hardly focus on the lecture, as my power crackled and tugged at my attention from the periphery of my consciousness, making me acutely aware of every bug within a tenth of a mile. I could tune it out, but the extra concentration that took, coupled with the anger I felt towards Madison and Mr. Gladly, was distracting enough that I couldn’t focus on the lecture. I took a cue from Sparky and put my head down on the desk. Being as exhausted from the previous night’s activity as I was, it was all I could do to keep from dozing off. Still, spending the class half asleep made it go by faster. I was startled when the bell rang.
Oh shit her powers get more powerful or precise when she’s pissed off! That is very interesting
At least she can keep it in check and not have a bee accidentally give the Lung treatment of stinger to eyeball to some of these wonderful individuals.
As everyone gathered their things and began to file out, Mr. Gladly approached me and quietly said, “I’d like you to stick around for a few minutes, please.”
I just nodded and put my books away, then waited for the teacher to finish negotiating where to meet the prize winners from the class contest so he could pay for their prizes.
When it was just me and Mr. Gladly in the classroom, he cleared his throat and then told me, “I’m not stupid, you know.”
“Okay,” I replied, not sure how to respond.
!!! Is Mr. Gladly actually going to do something?!
Nice!! Good on you, Gladly, for bringing this up!
“I have something of an idea of what goes on in my classroom. I don’t know exactly who, but I know some people are giving you a pretty hard time.”
“Sure,” I said.
“I saw the mess left on your usual seat today. I remember a few weeks back when glue was smeared on your desk and chair. There was also the incident that happened at the start of the year. All of your teachers had a meeting about that.”
I couldn’t meet his gaze as he brought that last event up. I looked at my feet.
“And I’m guessing there’s more that I don’t know about?”
Please talk about it Taylor, this cannot continue like this.
“Yeah,” I said, still looking down. It was hard to explain how I felt about this conversation. I was gratified, I think, that someone had brought it up, but annoyed that that someone was Mr. Gladly. I felt kind of embarrassed too, like I had walked into a door and someone was trying too hard to make sure I was okay.
“I asked you after the glue incident. I’m asking you again. Would you be willing to go to the office with me, to talk with the principal and vice principal?”
Ow, Taylor you poor thing! I know exactly how you’re feeling and how much it sucks, but this situation merits the genuine concern!
It is not shameful to need help
After a few moments of consideration, I looked up and asked him, “What would happen?”
“We’d have a discussion about what’s been going on. You would name the person or people you believe responsible, and each of them would be called in to talk to the principal, in turn.”
“And they’d get expelled?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.
Mr. Gladly shook his head, “If there was enough proof, they would be suspended for several days, unless they’ve done something very serious. Further offenses could lead to longer suspensions or expulsion.”
...A several day suspension isn’t going to do shit.
I gave a rueful chuckle, feeling the frustration welling up, “Great. So they might miss a few days of school, and only if I can prove they were behind it all… and whether they get suspended or not, they feel a hundred percent justified in whatever else they do to the rat for revenge.”
Yeaah Taylor is right here. This is just going to backfire.
“If you want things to get better, Taylor, you have to start somewhere.”
“That isn’t a starting point. It’s shooting myself in the foot,” I said, pulling my bag over my shoulder. When he didn’t immediately respond, I left the classroom.
I have to say, they really managed to capture how schools can be Agressively, Gloriously Useless in issues like this a lot of the time
Emma, Madison, Sophia and a half dozen other girls were standing in the hall, waiting for me.
Oh my god it keeps getting worse!
How does it keep getting worse!!
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On a Brilliant Sunday Afternoon
(An Eleven and Rose fiction)
Sunday. Of course it happened on a Sunday. It had been so long since he had last set foot on this soil. The last time he had been here he had to say goodbye to someone very important and it very nearly killed him. In fact, he did regenerate not long after that. She had been both the first face and the last face that he had seen in that body. Though he had moved on over time, he never stopped loving her. He wished her well with his other self, hoping they had a fantastic life together. Oh, it had been difficult to walk away. He often regretted it, wishing he had been a bit more selfish and asked her to stay with him. If he had been in this body, that might have been exactly what happened. But he wasn’t and she was gone.
Pete’s World. It had changed a bit over time, but there were still those ridiculous zeppelins. The TARDIS was still partially functioning this time and had connected to the local internet network. He knew that it was well into the future from when he had last landed at Darlig Ulv Stranden. How he ended up here at all, he wasn’t sure. It should have been quite impossible, unless the fabric of space time was being threatened again. If that was the case then perhaps it was best that he was here. It would be awfully hard to solve the problem were he not present to do so.
But all the same, why here? All it did was remind him, and he would much rather forget. Remembering hurt… it hurt a lot. If he were being honest with himself, he knew could never really forget her, no matter how much he tried. Even after the Ponds came into his life, after marrying River… he still thought about her nearly every day. When he was alone on the ship, he would visit her room. Though the TARDIS had deleted all the bedrooms at one point, somehow hers stayed in tact, stored on the hidden tertiary data banks. He noticed it when scanning the contents of the TARDIS memory, and put it back into the ship’s current structure matrix so it could be accessed again.
Some days he just laid on her bed for hours, taking in what was left of her scent. Everything was the same as it had always been. A few clothing items strewn about the room, makeup and beauty products slightly disarrayed on the vanity top, a pair of her trainers near the chair in the corner. He didn’t dare change a thing. It was the only link he had to her, and didn’t want to lose any bit of her that he could hold on to. Odd habit for The Man Who Forgets, but this was Rose Tyler, after all. She had branded his hearts forever, and earned a permanent place in them. His habits were probably a bit unhealthy and likely would register him as slightly disturbed to any mental health professional, however, he didn’t really care.
An outside observer might ask how he could be so consumed by his past when there had been so very much in his present. That was a very good question to ask. The Ponds had been his family, River his wife. They had been the very light of his life, and nearly filled the gaping hole that had formed in his hearts. He couldn’t imagine what his life would have been like without the glorious Amelia Pond and her wonderful husband Rory. They were everything to him, and their loss was beyond devastating. Nothing and no one could ever replace them, and he would miss them always. And it wasn’t as if he hadn’t loved River. He had, very much so, but it was different. So vastly different than the way he loved Rose. While they would all always be in his heart, there had only been one heart that had any room left in it. The other was permanently inhabited by one Rose Tyler, and there was nothing that would ever change that.
The Doctor looked around at the modern buildings mixed with the historical architecture of London. If you stood looking in one direction, it looked as it had for hundreds of years. Ancient buildings tower over the streets, the story of city told with every brick and every stone. Then in another direction, it looked like somewhere else altogether, with numerous skyscrapers made of metal and glass. It was the year 2154, one hundred and forty five years since his last fateful visit. In this timeline, at least. It had been more than 300 years for him. He let loose a heavy sigh. Rose was long gone by now, as would be his other self. So would the rest of the Tylers.
I suppose at least I won’t have any awkward meetups, he thought. No..that didn’t convince him. On the contrary, he was rather sad that there was no chance he would see her. Really...he wished he could.
He frowned a bit and shielded his eyes from the sun as it came out from behind the clouds. He glanced upward, noticing that the sky was rather clear now, lending to quite a lovely spring day. Yes, the sun was shining in all its glory.
“Love the sun. So nice and bright and...lighty,” he said aloud to himself, turning his grimace to a smile.
Looking around again, he found himself at a bit of a loss as to what he should do. Since the TARDIS was currently not fully operational, and the only power cell that was still active needed time to charge, he thought he might travel about the city. It would be interesting to get an alternate perspective of 22nd century London in this parallel world. For education, for science. And he needed to be sure that nothing was amiss before he headed back. With a bit of a smile,a firm nod, and a tweak of his bow tie, the Doctor set off on foot toward the heart of London.
=xxx=
Some time later he found himself browsing a curiosities shop, marveling at some of the historical difference between this London and the London in the prime universe. Some of the changes were very subtle and others were glaringly different. Who knew that Marilyn Monroe would be a famed scientist that discovered the cure for the common cold and a winner of the Nobel Prize for science. Good for Marilyn. She was always more clever than people gave her credit for.
He ambled to the front of the store and noticed a figurine in a display case that was nearby. He approached the case to get a better look. It was a delicate crystal red rose under a tiny glass cloche. Likely it was a reference to the story of Beauty and the Beast, but it reminded him of something else altogether. Well, someone, anyway. He smiled sadly as he stared at the tiny glass figure, and contemplated purchasing it for himself. Was it a good idea? Likely not, but he would do it anyway because it was her.
“Excuse me,” he called to the shopkeeper. “I’d like to purchase this, please.”
After making his purchase, the Doctor exited the shop, but found himself lingering outside of it. Before he could even think of where he might head next, his stomach growled quite loudly (and quite rudely, no doubt). Yes, it was time for tea. And scones. Love a scone, he thought.. He set off to find a coffee shop, as that would likely be his best bet outside of a formal tea house. Not the best place for tea, but the baked goods always proved to make the visit worthwhile. His taste buds in this body differed from his last, but he still had a bit of an occasional sweet tooth. Today was definitely one of those days. A bit of a treat would do him good, perk him right up.
It didn’t take long to find a place, and this one looked particularly promising. It advertised “A cuppa just like Mum’s” and FRESH BAKED GOODS DAILY, and those in and of themselves sounded like a complete and utter delight to the Doctor. Clapping and rubbing his hands together, a wide smile on his face, he approached the shop. Once inside he looked about, surveying his surroundings. There were several other patrons, but the shop was rather spacious so it wasn’t crowded. It was decorated in soothing shades of cream, blue and brown. Though it was quite roomy, it was still very home and cozy like. He liked it.
He inspected the menu and mulled over what to order for several minutes (even though he already knew what he was going to order, as he always ordered the same thing in shops like this). Finally he made a decision and his turn had come up at the counter.
“Afternoon sir, what might I get you?” the clerk asked in a reasonably cheerful tone.
“Earl Grey and a blueberry scone,” was his answer, a slight smile on his lips.
A short while later he had his order and was on his way out, heading to a park that he had spotted nearby. The area he was in was a bit different in this London, and he wasn’t wholly familiar with the layout of the neighborhood. He found a bench shaded under a tall dogwood tree and settled in. It was a lovely little park with an array of flowers and plant life, children playing a distance away.
He sipped his tea leisurely, and slowly chewed a hunk of his scone as he watched the different people in the park. Given that it was Saturday, there was quite a lot of activity. This was a nice neighborhood, he decided. Definitely somewhere he could visit to gather his thoughts and relax awhile. Maybe even read a book. He frowned a bit. He should have brought a book with him. Sometimes he missed that long brown coat he had worn during his previous incarnation. Those wonderful transdimensional pockets. Oh well. People watching it was.
He leaned back against the bench, resting his arms along the top of the back, shifting his gaze across the park. There was an old woman feeding birds, a city employee watering flowers, two boys floating boats on the little pond in the center of the park, Rose Tyler tying her shoe before a jog, a man with a cart selling hot dogs and peanuts calling out to attract customers… wait a moment.
His head slowly turned back, his eyes scanning for every detail until they fell upon the face that had haunted him for nearly three hundred years, the face of the woman he loved more than life itself. The woman he had lost to a metacrisis version of himself. But..how? It was nearly a century and a half forward in her timeline, a stretch of time far beyond the lifespan of a human being. Not to mention she looked exactly the same, only perhaps a bit thinner. Who was this woman and why did she have Rose’s face? A descendant perhaps? It was possible if she and the metacrisis Doctor had a family. But for her to be the spitting image of Rose so many generations later? It didn’t seem likely, however that was the only logical explanation. Or seemingly so at least.
By the time he had gone through the debate that took place inside his head, she had set off to run again. He scrambled in a slight panic, but managed to get to his feet. He instantly decided to follow her. There was no way he couldn’t. He had to know more about this woman. Luckily she was still in his sights, so following her was an option. Realizing that he was spending far too much time thinking about doing so rather than actually doing it, he set off to follow her.
She was keeping a fairly steady pace, making it so he had to jog along at points in order to keep up with her. Blimey, she could run! Of course, that wasn’t much of a surprise considering her experience. He always knew that she was quite the effective runner. Though her athleticism seemed to have improved even more so over the years. She was in very good shape, that was for certain. Then again, he always thought she had been a perfectly lovely shape. A perfectly Rose shaped sort of shape. He hadn’t quite realized that he was already assuming that it was indeed her. Wishful thinking, he would have told himself, were he thinking straight.
It was 16 minutes and 42 seconds later when she finally came to a stop in front of a four story buildings that obviously housed several flats. Once she disappeared inside, he moved closer to the building to investigate a little. He was able to slip inside the lobby of the building and made his way over to the mail slots. Scanning the list of names, he frowned a little, not seeing any recognisable nomer upon any of the boxes. Until he came across the surname Prentice. Prentice, Prentice… why was that so familiar? He racked his brain, trying to figure out why this name struck a chord with him, but nothing surfaced. After several minutes and odd looks from building inhabitants making their way home, he realized he was loitering. Hurrying out of the lobby of the building, he found himself on the street again. The Doctor sighed. Back to square one.
He made his way back to the TARDIS, all the while thinking of that name. Prentice. Perhaps it was just a coincidence and he was grasping at straws. Then, in mid-stride, it struck him like the tolling of the cloister bells. Prentice! His mind flooded with a very distinct memory, the Battle at Canary Wharf. When Rose and the Doctor had arrived back at the Powell Estate to visit her mother, Jackie started talking about the “ghosts” that had been appearing. It had been going on for the better part of two months, and she was convinced that the “ghost” appearing in her home was that of her father, Rose’s Granddad Prentice. That was it! Her mother’s maiden name! Of course it was familiar! He had heard stories of when Rose was small and she would go for ice cream with her Granddad Prentice, and how her Nan Prentice always bought her things that were pink.
R. Prentice. It had read R. Prentice… could it be Rose Prentice? He had no absolute way of knowing. Well in the very least, it seemed that part of the mystery was solved. But still, why would her descendant have her mother’s maiden name? Surely if Rose and the Metacrisis Doctor had married, either she would have taken whatever name he was using, or more likely, kept her maiden name. It could very well be someone else with the name Prentice, and he had no clue what name the metacrisis Doctor had taken after coming to this world. It was very possible that his idea was completely and utterly wrong. A normal person might just let it go and move along. A normal person wouldn’t go to ridiculous lengths just to satisfy a curiosity. However, he was not a normal person, and he was going to do exactly those things.
When he finally reached the TARDIS, he accessed the ship’s computer and tapped into the local internet connection. He began with the obvious and looked up the name Prentice in the online white pages. He found a number of them, but there wasn’t an R. Prentice among them. Digging a little deeper, he searched for an R. Prentice specifically. It took a bit of searching (which included gaining access to some highly classified websites) and he finally found what he was looking for: a phone number. It was the correct phone number for the location of the flat, according to his sources. In the very least he could ring up the mystery woman to hear her voice and settle all of this ridiculous hopes that it might actually be Rose. He knew it was illogical to think it might be her, but he couldn’t help it. If there was even the most remote chance...he had to know, even if it was next to impossible.
It took several minutes before he was ready to make the call, pacing back and forth over the TARDIS floor in front of the console. He stopped a few times and stared at the phone before taking a deep breath and picking up the receiver before putting it back down again.
“Oh this is just stupid! C’mon Doctor! Get a hold of yourself, old man! It’s just a bloody phone call,” he groused at himself, frowning deeply, the lines in his forehead prominent. Finally, he picked up the receiver and dialed out the number. It rang several times, and he was about to hang up, but then suddenly there was someone at the other end.
“Hello?” came a female voice.
He froze. It sounded exactly like her… not just like her… it WAS her. There was no mistake about it. This was Rose Marion Tyler on the other end of the line. He knew that voice too well, having spent years perfectly preserving memories of her in his mind for nearly three centuries. But how could this be? How was she alive? There was no plausible reason for her still being here after 150 years. As impossible as it was… it meant she was still here. Still living and breathing and walking this Earth. She was mere minutes away, up in her flat, answering his phone call, and he was frozen.
“Hello??” came the voice again, more urgent this time. Oh. Right. Phone call. He was on the phone to her. Suddenly, it was difficult to speak, a problem the Doctor rarely had. But if he didn’t say something soon she might hang up! Oh God, what was he supposed to do?! Blimey… And then he found his voice.
“Hello! Sorry about that, bit of a bad connection I think,” he got out, trying to sound as casual as possible. She laughed a little. Oh that laugh… that magically musical laugh... yes this was definitely her. He found himself slightly flushed, his hearts beating almost twice their normal speed.
“S’alright. So um...who’s this then?” she asked, and he found himself dumbfounded once again. He couldn’t use his usual alias, she might see right through that.
“Um.. this is...Rory Pond,” he said, giving the first name that popped into his head. “You can just call me.. Rory.” She laughed again. Oh goodness did she have a lovely laugh.
“Okay then, Rory it is. But might I ask why you’re calling Rory?”
“Oh… uh...I...well I..you see I’m calling about...I..” he stammered, again uncertain as to what to say. Lord, he certainly was struggling wasn’t he? Normally he was an expert at coming up with stories on the fly with no trouble whatsoever. But this was different. He usually wasn’t faced with his long lost love whom he was attempting to conceal his identity from for the time being.
“Blimey, you’re a nervous one, aren’t you?” she chuckled, noting his behavior. “Oh! Is this about the ad?”
The ad. He had no idea what she was talking about, of course, but this could be the perfect opportunity for a cover story. He had to be as convincing as possible so that she didn’t suspect anything.
“The ad… yes, the ad! That’s exactly why I’m calling! Sorry about the nerves, odd like that, me,” he said quickly, still trying to avoid any suspicion.
“Oh great! I was hoping that someone would respond soon. Did you want to come take a look at it then? The pictures really don’t do it justice,” she asked. Take a look at it? Take a look at what? His mind went blank again. And then it dawned on him; this was the perfect opportunity for him to be able to see her face to face. Though he was almost completely certain that this was indeed his Rose, he had to be absolutely sure before revealing himself to her.
“Oh...oh yes! I would love to!” he exclaimed. It took only a moment before he realized that he was practically shouting, and cleared his throat a little, embarrassed slightly. “I mean, yes, I would most definitely like to come by to see it.”
She then gave him her address and they arranged to meet up in an hour’s time. Of course, he didn’t need her address as he already knew where she lived, but he had to hold up pretenses to not give himself away. Once they had hung up he was feeling rather excited and very nervous. The prospect of seeing her again was almost anxiety inducing, but it was a good kind of anxiety. An anticipation sort of anxiety. Needless to say, it was the longest hour of all his lives put together. When it was finally time, he made his way back to her building and up to her flat.
The Doctor stood outside the door for several minutes before knocking. This was it. Once he knocked there was no going back. It was very very possible that behind that door was the love of his life. The woman he had been pining for all these many years. Rose Tyler… the beautiful, wonderful, absolutely fantastic Rose Tyler. He braced himself and then knocked. He heard a voice call out and some movement behind the door. A few more moments passed before the door finally opened and he was greeted with an all too familiar face.
She looked beautiful. Her hair was a bit damp, likely from a recent shower, and she wasn’t wearing much makeup. Her hair was a darker shade of blonde than he was familiar with, but her eyes were the same as always. Those warm, deep brown eyes that sparkled when she smiled. This had to be her. No one had eyes like that. It didn’t matter how many pairs of eyes he had seen over time, hers were still the most magnificent. But still, he had to be cautious and wait for some kind of concrete evidence that this was indeed his Rose.
“Rory?” she asked pleasantly, smiling widely at him. He stared for a moment and then opened his mouth to speak only to have nothing come out. Once again, he found himself rendered speechless, and very inconveniently so. She looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to answer. Finally he found his voice.
“Yes! Yes… sorry, bit shy I suppose,” he said sheepishly, almost afraid to look her in the eyes again. “That’s me, Rory Pond!’ She just chuckled lightly and stuck out her hand.
“Well Rory Pond, I’m Rose Prentice. Pleasure to meet you,” she said, shaking his hand as he took hers. For a split second a strange look crossed her face, and the Doctor wasn’t sure what to make of it. Could it be a spark of recognition? She seemed to shake herself out of it quickly and flashed him a brilliant smile. Oh that smile. Now that she had confirmed that her name indeed was Rose, he was certain that it was her.
“So come on in then, Rory,” she said, opening the door further and beckoned him to enter. He took her invitation and entered slowly. Once he was inside, she closed the door and walked across the room. “It’s right in here. Just kept it in place. The bloody thing is too heavy to move!”
She moved toward another room and he started to follow, taking in his surroundings as they went. The apartment was sparsely decorated, a few pieces of tasteful art hanging on the walls. There were little to no person effects other than a jacket over the back of the couch and a book on the coffee table. He had to smile at that sight a bit. Rose always had a habit of slinging her jacket over something and leaving it there until she next needed it. The furniture was appropriate for mid 22nd century, a lot of sleek lines and simple shapes. It was a rather standard flat that would belong to a rather standard person, and completely lacked any aspect of Rose’s personality. Something told him that she hadn’t lived here long.
“New apartment?” he asked casually. She glanced back at him, an eyebrow raised.
“Yeah actually, just been here a few weeks. Bought the place furnished,” she replied.
When they entered in the other room, he noticed she stopped maybe ten feet in and was standing next to an oversized sculpture of a crushed cigarette butt. It was quite obviously a replica, as it wasn’t quite the size of the original sculpture. His eyes widened a little as he took it in. He considered it for a moment and couldn’t help but wonder just why Rose had this statue. Claes Oldenburg had never been a personal favorite, but his work was important in the history of 20th century sculpture art. All the same, it was not at all her taste.
“So there it is,” she said, motioning to the sculpture, pulling a bit of a face. “Just been sittin’ for awhile now, but kept covered most of the time.”
“Yes, well, it certainly is something, isn’t it?” he said, eyeing the piece again before shifting his gaze back to her. She looked at him curiously. He cleared his throat and went on.
“Claes Oldenburg was one of the most well known sculptors of his time. Certainly one of the most prominent of the 20th century. He was born in Stockholm, Sweden, but grew up in Chicago. There was a definitive mixture of European classicalism merged with American modernism in his style. Quite the interesting mixture, no doubt. And it seems it certainly has stood the test of time. Well up until this point, anyway. Can’t say that holds up down the line, though. Haven’t seen the way it works out here,” he rattled off, his eyes narrowing as he looked over the piece again. His eyes flicked back to her face. She was giving him that same dubious look.
“His work was unique, I’ll give him that. Not really my taste. Was here when I moved in,” Rose said, eyebrows raised, glancing from the piece back to him. “So you interested?”
Her question was lost on him, as he had noticed a framed picture across the room, leaning against the wall, resting on a ledge near a large window. There was a chair facing the window, afternoon sun falling across it. He strode across the room and stood in front of the picture, hands in his pockets. It was a family photo, Rose, her parents Jackie and Pete, the metacrisis Doctor, and her little brother Tony as a teenager. He noticed that Rose was wearing a wedding band. They all looked so grandly happy, posing together in front of a Christmas tree. He smiled a little, a tear pricking his eye as he looked upon those familiar faces. They were likely all gone now. It made him a bit sad to think about.
“Where were you? When you were away from London?” he asked suddenly, still looking at the picture.
“What? I never said I was away from London,” she said, a note of shock in her voice. “How did you…”
He turned back toward her, smiling ever so slightly. “I assumed, given you purchased a furnished apartment. You must travel light.” She was giving him that look again, frowning a little.
“So, are you not interested then?” she asked bluntly, her tone chilly.
“Oh, not in the slightest,” he admitted, smiling at her still. She narrowed her eyes at him, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Look mate, if you’re taking the piss here, I don’t have time for any funny business,” she spat out, a slight growl in her voice. Ooo love the growl.
“I am most certainly not ‘taking the piss’ as you say, but rather just looking for an answer to a question,” he replied vaguely, shrugging his shoulders.
“And what question is that then?” she challenged, shoulders squared, looking as though she were ready to spring into action if necessary. There was a fire in her eyes that he had seen many times, and honestly, it made his heart quicken. Oh Rose…
“Would you like a jelly baby?” he asked, pulling a small wax paper bag from his pocket and offering her one of the confections.
Rose stared at him, wide eyed and utterly speechless. She looked from him, to the bag, and back to him again. She knew. She had to know. He was being quite obvious. She had always teased him for his sweet tooth and his habit of carrying around candy in his pocket like an old granddad. Her eyes began to well up, her expression shifting from shock to something else entirely.
“Oh my God...Is it...is it you? Doctor? ” she asked, her voice cracking slightly. He smiled at her.
“Yes..yes it is me. Hello Rose Tyler,” he said, taking a step toward her, hands still in his pockets.
She gasped, her hand flying to cover her mouth as a pair of tears streamed down her face. “I can’t believe it...Are you really here?” she whispered, her eyes full of question.
“I am Rose, I really am,” he said quietly, smiling gently.
She tentatively reached to touch his cheek. It was as if she was afraid he might disappear. The feel of her fingertips brushing his cheek sent a chill through him, the little hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. His eyes fluttered close as she stroked her thumb over his cheekbone, then turning his head slightly to kiss her fingers. She gasped a little and he opened his eyes. They stared at one another for a long moment before their lips came crashing together. His arms looped around her, his hands spread over the surface of her back as he pulled her tight to him. Rose clung to him as their lips progressed from gentle caresses to heated nips and licks. His tongue slid over her bottom lip, asking for entrance. She parted her lips, allowing his tongue to enter, sliding against hers as he deepened the kiss.
By the time they came up for air, both of them were thoroughly flushed. Both panting a little as their foreheads rested, they stood still clinging to each other. He raised his eyes to look into hers and she smiled shyly. They hadn’t shared a kiss in a very, very long time, and he was still feeling a rush from it. He pulled her into him again, embracing her fully. She hugged him tight, nuzzling her cheek against his chest. She still smelled the same- that wonderful, distinctly Rose Tyler smell. When they finally parted, his hearts clenched at feeling the loss of her warmth against him.
“So...I suppose you’re wondering how I’m here,” Rose said softly, looking up at him.
He nodded and gave her a little smile. “Yeah...the thought did cross my mind.”
“Let me make us a cuppa and then we’ll talk, yeah?” she said, smiling back at him. He nodded and took her hand as she offered it, and followed her toward the kitchen.
After Rose had made a pot of tea, they settled in the little breakfast nook off the kitchen. After setting the tea service on the table, Rose disappeared into the kitchen again. While he waited, the Doctor looked out the window. Given that they were so high up, there was an amazing view of London. He was fixated on a trio of men carrying a very large plate of glass across the road, wondering why they weren’t taking more precautions when Rose appeared again. He looked up rather sheepishly, feeling a little embarrassed about his gawking out the window. It was then that he noticed that Rose set a plate full of Jammy Dodgers on the table. He grinned widely, looking at her as she seated herself across from him.
“You remembered,” he said affectionately, reaching for a biscuit and taking half of it in one bite. “Mmmm, so tasty!”
Rose giggled a little, cupping her chin with her hand as she rested it up on her elbow. She nodded, still smiling. “Of course. I hoped that you still liked them, given your tastes tend to change with every regeneration.”
He looked at her for a moment and then nodded a little. “They do. This body loves fish fingers and custard.”
Rose pulled a face and quirked an eyebrow up. “That’s...an interesting combination.”
“Hey now, don’t knock it until you’ve tried it, Rose Tyler,” he said with a wink and a grin. And then his expression sobered. “So...do you want to tell me how you’re still here, nearly a hundred and fifty years after I...left you here.. looking exactly the same as the day we met?”
“Well, it’s a bit of a long story,” she said, sitting up and clearing her throat. “But the short of it is, I don’t age. I haven’t for longer than I even know.”
His mouth dropped open in shock. “I...I thought you were going to tell me you got a hold of a vortex manipulator or something to that degree. But...I wasn’t expecting...how??”
Rose shrugged. “The most we could ever surmise was that it was all the doing of Bad Wolf. The Doctor...well, the other Doctor, my Doctor I mean.. He figured that when I looked into the heart of the TARDIS, the vortex energy changed my DNA. Even though you removed it from me, it worked fast enough to manipulate my genetic makeup so that I don’t age. I also experience regeneration of sorts. It’s not quite how it works for you, with a whole new body, but my body will heal itself if ill or injured.”
The Doctor nodded slowly, taking in the details of what she was telling him. She went on to describe how the Metacrisis Doctor had used the Torchwood labs to run as many tests on her as he could. Jon (that’s what he called himself) had been worried that it had some kind of lasting negative effects. What he did find was a triple helix DNA strand, discovering the root of Rose’s changes. He kept track of her health and vitals over the years, always worried that something was going to happen to her. And then she was injured in the line of duty, and that was when they discovered her body’s ability to regenerate its cells.
She went on to tell him about her life after the left. How at first, she had been so angry at him for up and leaving her again, but in time she came to understand. Jon told her that the only thing the Doctor had wanted was for her to be happy. With the Metacrisis Doctor, he thought she could live a happy, human life until the end of their days. Over time she came to forgive him, and was even thankful to him for what he did. They had a long, happy life together. She told him that Jon had lived until the ripe old age of 97, and that she wouldn’t trade a single moment of it.
A couple of years after the Doctor left them on the parallel world, they ended up married. Both took jobs with Torchwood, and settled down together. Or settled down as much as a life working for a secret organization that interacted with beings from other worlds would allow. Jon had worked as a scientist in the Torchwood labs and Rose was Head of Field Agent Operations. They worked under her dad Pete, and lived a fabulous life together. Whenever they got the chance they would travel, marking off each spot on a map whenever they returned home.
As the years passed, he grew older and she remained the same.
That didn’t change things between them at all though. The pair of them lived life out together, watching her parents and then her brother grow older. Eventually, she had to say goodbye to them, and was left alone. She had already left Torchwood years earlier, and they moved to a warmer climate to help with Jon’s rheumatism. They had settled in Bali, living right along the ocean with a magnificent view. He had died there and she burned his body in the tradition Time Lord fashion. After his passing, she sold their property, and began to travel the world on her own.
“And I decided to come back to London after 20 years of being away. Actually, I hadn’t lived here for nearly 50 years, but I visited about 30 years ago. When we hosted the Olympics again. They were just starting to introduce hyper sports. Really great time,” she mused, smiling at him.
The Doctor looked at her for a long moment, studying her closely. She carried this air of confidence and casualness like a pro, but he could see deeper. Underneath there was someone who suffered years of loneliness, wandering with no place to call home. At least he had the TARDIS to call home, his very own little place in the universe that belonged to no one else. Not to mention he had companions over the years. He wasn’t alone all the time, but it sounded like she was most of the time. While he was much older than her, he had always had friends throughout his travels.
He reached across the table and took her hand, lacing their fingers together. Their eyes met again, and the smile dropped from her face. He brushed his thumb over the back of her hand and let loose a quiet little hum. He had missed the feel of her hand in his. No matter whose hand he had held, none of them fit so perfectly as Rose Tyler’s.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I’m sorry I left you behind. And I’m sorry you’ve been alone for so long.”
Rose looked at him, her eyes glassy with tears that had yet to fall. She sucked in a breath, stifling a sob, but her emotions betrayed her. The teardrops spilled over and down her cheeks as she grasped his hand a little tighter.
“I’ve been so lonely,” she whispered, tears flowing freely now. “I’ve hoped for so long that you would come back for me. I knew it was far fetched, likely to never happen. For the longest time I felt guilty, thinking it was an insult to Jon’s memory. But he had always told me that I should try to find you again when he was gone. He told me that you loved me and would want to be with me again. I knew that you would understand what it’s like...to live this kind of life. I never assumed you would want me back, but I hoped I guess.”
She raised her eyes to look at him again, face tear stained. His hearts clenched again, his brow furrowed as he frowned deeply. How could she ever think that he wouldn’t want her. But he had given her reason to believe that he wouldn’t, hadn’t he? It broke his hearts to know that she felt that kind of doubt, thinking all these years that he might reject her. It was then that he took both of her hands and pulled her toward him. She got up out of her chair and found her way into his lap. He held her close to him, kissing her cheeks, her forehead and then placing a chaste, but sweet kiss on her soft lips.
“Oh Rose, of course I want you back,” he murmured, squeezing her a little and stroking her back. “Always...I always want you, Rose.”
She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tight, not letting go. Her forehead rested against his, and she gave him a bit of a smile.
“I’m glad,” she said, reaching up to brush her fingertips over his cheek.
She looked up at him, her smile so warm, her eyes shining. She looked sincerely happy. No playing it cool or trying to be all held together. She looked really, sincerely happy, and he was so glad for it. He smiled back at her, feeling the warmth rising up in his chest. Rose had always had that effect on him. And one thing that she had always given him was hope. Perhaps there was a chance things might work out this time.
****
They ate dinner in her flat, fish and chips (as anyone who knew them might expect). They talked about their lives and all the time that had passed since they last met. There was so much that they needed to share, and he wondered how much time he had with her. Would she come back with him? If she did, would she stay? He hoped that she would come to stay. The thought of parting with her now was to much pain to bare.
In the past he always wrestled about what to do and how to act when it came to Rose. His feelings for her were unlike any he had had for any companion before her. He always loved them. They were his friends, his family. But she...she was something else all-together. While she had been his very best mate, the object of his adoration, the Shiver to his Shake-- she was also the only person he had let down all his guards with. He never let anyone as close as he let Rose. She got deep under his skin, sometimes almost unnervingly so. Not because he didn’t like her being close, but it scared him. That fear was all based in losing her. He had already done that twice, and wasn’t setting out to do it again. In fact, he would do everything in his power to prevent it.
Late that evening he moved the TARDIS to the inside of her flat, alongside the Oldenburg copy. Thankfully her spare power cells had had enough power to make the short hop.(And the fact that Rose had asked her ever so nicely to “pretty please” make the trip likely had a lot to do with it.) Night rolled around and he had no intention of leaving. If the long, tedious year that he had spent living with the Ponds had taught him, it was that he could wait out a few days of domestics if it meant having Rose return to him. If he could wait for those blasted little cubes, he could sure as hell wait for Rose.
“Um, well, you’re welcome to stay, if you like,” Rose offered, almost sounding nervous. “There’s a guest room...or...my room...if you want…”
Her voice trailed off as she fidgeted, motioning at nothing in particular. They made eye contact and both blushed, smiling at each other. He cleared his throat and broke the silence.
“Wherever you’ll be, that my choice Rose Tyler,” he said softly.
She grinned at him, taking a couple of steps toward him and offering him a hand. He took it promptly and gave it a little squeeze. She bit her lip shyly, looking away for a moment, and then peeking back at him from behind her hair.
“I think I’d like to spend the night with you on the TARDIS, actually,” she said warmly. He beamed back at her and gave a slow nod.
“Of course, I would be delighted,” he said, leaning in and touching his forehead to hers. They stayed like that for a moment, looking at one another. After the moment had passed, he took her hand and led her toward the TARDIS.
They made their way through the console room and down the corridor toward his personal quarters. This was the room that he never allowed anyone to enter. Not even River had spent the night here. No else had ever slept in that bed, except Rose. He had wanted to keep it that way. So many times he recounted the nights she had spent coaxing his body out of a horrible fever, spending every moment tending to his every need until he was well again. That had been in his ninth form when he was bitten by Darjinian Boiling Beetles. And she had repeated the whole thing when he was in his tenth form and caught the Mangari flu on Xeenox 17. In both instances, Rose had spent the night with him in his bed. Granted it had all been very innocent then, but they did share a cuddle both times (and the subsequent nights after until Rose felt safe leaving him on his own).
When they stopped outside the door, he turned to her, taking her hands into his own, he looked into her eyes while smiling gently. He didn’t want to push too hard, but at the same time was desperate to reconnect with her on every level.
“Is this alright? If it’s not, I understand,” he said, his eyes shining with earnest.
She smiled, reaching a hand up and brushing her thumb over the apple of his cheek. “It’s fine for me, but is it really okay for you? I mean...I’m...I’m not...your wife.”
When she finally stumbled out the words, they hung there in the air for a moment. The weight of her statement was a blaring bleat of reality, however, he refused to let it deter him. While he felt a pang of loss, remorse, and regret for what had once been, he was consumed by what could be again. Right here, in this moment, he was faced with Rose Tyler, the love of all his lives. It would never overshadow the love he felt for his wife. That would always remain as so. But this love, the love he had for Rose was its own life, its own being. And he was thrust full into it once again. It was like plunging into a cold swimming pool after too much time in the jacuzzi.
“And I’m not your husband...yet,” he said, the last bit with a little wink and smirk.
She giggled a bit, flashing him her signature tongue touched grin. “Sound awfully confident,” she chided, playfully but gently poking at his tummy.
“Part of the new package, Tyler. Get used to it. Confidence is cool,” he sniffed, giving her his best cool guy smirk. She broke down in all out giggles then. He couldn’t help but laugh with her.
“But Rose, to answer your question, yes, it’s more than alright. To be honest, no one has accompanied me in here since...well since you.”
She relaxed a little then, smiling shyly. “Well okay then, on we go,” she said, nodding toward the door. He nodded in return and opened it to let them in.
When they entered, they saw that the TARDIS had intuitively deduced the outcome of the evening and had provided what they needed to ready themselves for the night. Two sets of jim jams laid neatly folded at the foot of the bed, his and hers respectively. Also in his ensuite was a toothbrush and necessary toiletries for Rose. It seems the ship had already made up her mind about a certain someone staying. They both readied for bed, her dressing in the privacy of the ensuite. He left his vest top on in lieu of the jim jam top, neatly folding it and setting it aside.
Rose emerged a short time later in her pale pink tank and short set, looking all freshly scrubbed. He liked seeing her dressed down like this. It all felt so natural, so intimate. They silently climbed into bed, the lights dimming as they slipped beneath the covers. With very few words, they found themselves comfortable with him spooning her from behind and an arm tightened around her waist as he pulled her to him. He placed a soft kiss on the back of her neck as they murmured their goodnights. For the first time in quite a long time, he fell into a deep, restful sleep.
****
Several hours passed while they slept snuggled close together. He usually didn’t sleep this long, but he found himself unusually drowsy, and far too comfortable to move. In the past when they had laid together like this, he had always woken first and vacated the room before she stirred. Something about the closeness unnerved him. Not because he didn’t like it. On the contrary, he liked it very much. Too much, he had feared. So he would distance himself, and avoid the feelings all together. But not now, certainly not now. This time around he would revel in every moment he spent near her, not wasting a single second of it.
They laid facing each other now, having drifted apart slightly in their sleep. Their hands had remained together throughout the night. He gently traced his thumb over the top of her hand as she watched her sleep. She was so beautiful, breathtaking really. How could he have ever walked away from her? He really wasn’t sure, but he was certain that he would never do it again. A short while later, she began to stir, squinting at him through sleep ridden eyes.
“What time is it?” she said hoarsely, stretching out and then releasing a little sigh.
He smiled. “It’s about 8 o’clock in the morning, London time. You slept a full 8 hours, 13 minutes, 42 seconds. Give or take.”
She laughed then. “Just a guess, right?”
He smiled and leaned in to lightly press his lips to hers. “Something like that. So Rose Tyler, what do you say to some breakfast?”
“I’d say I’m dying for a good cuppa about now,” she groaned, stretching again.
“Cuppa it is, then. Shall we?” he said with a goofy grin.
Then both got up then (with a bit of grumbling from Rose, as she was not now, nor had ever been a morning person), and went to the galley. They were pleasantly surprised with a piping pot of tea and tray with scones with jam (courtesy of the TARDIS, no doubt). Rose cooed excitedly as she set herself on pouring a cup of tea for them each. The Doctor sat across from her, smiling all the while. This was how things were supposed to be. He and Rose Tyler on the TARDIS, enjoying a cuppa and some delicious scones.
They made friendly chit chat over tea, laughing as the Doctor recounted a story about a time he’d ended up in a Grimian prison for trespassing on sacred lands. He told the story with great enthusiasm, waving his arms and flailing about as he reenacted his stealthy getaway.
“You should have seen me Rose! Dumped an entire bucket of green pain on myself just so that I might blend in as man-shaped flora! But really Grimia is a lovely place if you go the right time of year. You’d love their harvest festival! So many great foods, fireworks, local wares sold in the market, dancing, oh the dancing!” he said brightly, grinning from ear to ear. Just then he noticed that Rose had gone quiet and was no longer laughing.
“Rose?” he inquired gently, eyebrows knitted together in concern. “Is something wrong?”
She had gone a bit pale and her eyes were glassy, as if she was holding back tears. He saw her take a deep breath, shuddering a little as she did. The Doctor moved quickly to take her hands into his, giving them a gentle squeeze.
“Rose, what is it? Please talk to me,” he pleaded, thoroughly confused and greatly concerned. Finally she brought her gaze up to meet his.
“Nothin’ jus’ thinkin’ about how you’ll....how you’ll have to go back eventually,” she said, giving a watery laugh that held no mirth. “Guess I should be used to saying goodbye to you by now.”
He stared back at her, waves of emotion crashing over him as he watched a tear slip down her cheek. He hated to see her cry. That always pulled at his hearts strings. The Doctor slipped off his chair and knelt on one knee in front of her, cupping her cheeks in his hands, gazing into her eyes.
“Come with me, Rose. Please. I’ll beg if I have to…I meant it when I said I wanted you back.. I can’t leave you again,” he said, his own emotions betraying him this time. The desperation in his voice rang out loud and clear. Her eyes widened.
“Y-you mean it?” she asked, more tears falling now.
He nodded frantically. He wouldn’t let her slip away again, not this time. He had waited far too long for this moment, a moment he thought would never come, but had always hoped for.
“Yes. Yes Rose, I want you to come with me. I want...I want us to be together,” he said, greatly emphasizing the last word.
She broke out into a thousand watt grin, throwing her arms around his neck and thrusting herself forward at him, landing them in a tangled pile of limbs on the ground. They rolled together a bit, hugging tightly, both laughing.
“That’s a yes, I hope,” he said, burying his face in her hair, closing his eyes as he inhaled her scent.
She laughed and nodded emphatically. “Yes, yes, a million times yes!” she said, peppering kisses all over his face until her lips met with his. They lingered on the kiss for several moments before the Doctor pulled himself up into a sitting position. He pulled Rose into his lap, holding her close to him. They stayed like that for a long while, reveling in this moment together.
When they finally pulled themselves up off the floor, they were quick to make plans for their departure. The Doctor helped Rose pack up the few boxes of personal effects that she had, and moved them into the TARDIS. It wasn’t long before they had cleared the apartment of anything she wanted to take with her. As they worked, the Doctor grew antsy, hopping about like an impatient child being allowed to open his first present at Christmas. Rose couldn’t help but laugh, as she found his youthful antics to be greatly endearing.
Rose decided to simply sign away her apartment to her elderly neighbor that she had taken a shine to. She explained to Mrs. Featherstone that she simply wouldn’t be needing it any longer and that she was free to do with it as she pleased. The woman was very confused, but accepted Rose’s gift, thanking her over and again. Afterall, it was the biggest, most posh apartment in the entire building, and had the very best view. If Mrs. Featherstone didn’t take up residence there herself, she would bank a hefty sum from selling or sub-letting it.
Finally, they boarded the TARDIS and prepared to say goodbye to Pete’s World once and for all. Rose sat on the jumpseat as she watched the Doctor work his magic with the controls. She was curious how he handled them in this form. His piloting techniques had been different in his previous two forms, each incarnation having his own style about it. She watched him pull a lever she didn’t recognize and all of the lights came on inside the ship.
“Oh wow! Just like that,” she exclaimed, laughing a bit. “Bit different than the last time I left this world with you!”
The Doctor nodded, smiling. “Well after last time, I made some upgrades when the desktop changed. Installed an ionic energy converter, allowing the TARDIS to take energy cells from within this atmosphere and convert it into a usable fuel source. Figured I’d be prepared incase I ever ended up back here.”
She simply smiled and nodded, leaning back against the jumpseat. Then she sat up again, looking alarmed. He looked at her, head cocked to one side as he threw the dematerialization switch.
“Rose? What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Well, I was just thinking...how did you end up in Pete’s World?? I thought it was impossible! I mean, unless the walls of reality were breaking down again,” she said, looking worried.
He circled around the console and slipped onto the jumpseat next to her, putting an arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. “Just a chance happening, I suppose. Found a loophole. I’m good at loopholes, me.”
She chuckled a little, shaking her head. “Yeah I suppose you are. Always were good at defying the impossible.”
He grinned, leaning in to kiss her cheek and nuzzle her neck. She giggled a bit, turning her head to kiss him sweetly on the lips. He could certainly get used to this. Then, quick as a rabbit, he hopped to his feet and approached the console again.
“So where to Rose Tyler? All of time and space is at your feet,” he said, giving a little bow.
“Anywhere! Surprise me,” she said with a giggle.
“Alright then, a surprise it is! Love a surprise. I’m good at surprises,” he said, tweaking his bow tie and wriggling his eyebrows at her.
“By the way, love the bow tie,” she commented, nodding to him, flashing him her classic tongue touched grin.
“Bowties are cool,” he said with a smirk.
“Bowties are cool,” she repeated with a laugh a nod.
“Exactly, Rose Tyler. I knew you had good taste,” he joked, giving her a wink.
And so they were together once more, the Doctor and Rose Tyler on the TARDIS, just as it should. All was well and right in the universe. Or so they thought...until the cloister bells began to toll and the TARDIS began to shake violently. They came to a thudding crash, both of them falling to the floor, grasping at whatever they could reach. Finally, once they were able to regain their footing, they both stood, wavering on their feet. A ruckus could be heard going on outside the TARDIS. They looked at each other questioningly, each shrugging. He extended his hand to her, grinning broadly.
“Shall we?” he asked as she took his hand. She smiled and nodded firmly.
“Let’s,” she said, matching his grin.
“Geronimo!”
.
#ficsandchips#doctorwho#doctor who#eleventh doctor#rose tyler#eleven x rose#reunion fic#noncanon#fanfiction#doctor who fanfic
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An Unlikely Meeting
Title: An Unlikely Meeting
Summary: Rielay Taqq has known and consorting with many types of people all the way across the galaxy...in her work that is. It isn’t often that in her semi-retirement off hours on Corellia that she meets a Jedi, and even now the Jedi by the name of Idan Lumielle doesn’t exactly fit textbook definitions.
A/N: This is a meeting literally months in the making because wow life got busy and then I got fixated on Ashes. Thank you thank you, thank you to @lumielles for your patience in me writing this at a snail’s pace annnd for letting my idiot smuggler meet precious Idan!
---
It wasn’t often that Rielay was stood up for get-togethers. Especially not now that she had a husband--if he stood her up then there would be more problems to her than the simple act of standing up. It also wasn’t something that Rielay missed, especially now that she had this nifty thing called a functioning life that required scheduling of time. She was quite proud of her functional life and structure and didn’t appreciate it being squandered.
In fact tonight she had taken up some of her friends--her pals, her buddies, the ones who said they were going to be here--on an offer to meet them at the Valuable Barrel, a bar in the center of Coronet City that she had been to all of once and was more out of her way than not, after her shift at the shipyard. She had got off her shift, washed the oil and grime from herself as best she could using wet wipes, paper towels, and a grimy workplace bathroom mirror in an attempt to look presentable, and come here. And yet, twenty minutes past their meetup time, her friends were shockingly scarce.
Shockingly, as if she expected anything less from flighty sorts of people who wouldn’t bother to give her a call to reschedule. Emeldir would never stand her up, but he was on Coruscant, probably saving the galaxy again if his record was anything to go by. Unfortunately she didn’t have the twenty-four hours to wait for Emeldir to travel from point A to point B; or to wait for him to either save the galaxy or become a pseudo king-consort of a planet. Her best friend had a busy schedule nowadays.
But she did have a few free hours tonight, granted to her by Esrin’s enthusiasm in all but kicking her out of the house so he could have a daddy-daughter evening with Rina and Sirixa, and she was hardly going to waste them.
Cocking her hip against the wood siding of the bar’s half wall, still tucked in the waiting area as if she wasn’t totally being stood up--she frowned as she looked at her chrono once again. She doubted they were going to show up now, all she was doing was ticking away precious minutes. She let her eyes wander across the patrons in the bar, fingers tapping against the wood, pausing when she saw a lone individual among groups of chattering and laughing people.
Nodding to the hostess with a smile she said, “Actually, I think I’ve found one of my party, thanks.”
The hostess just nodded to her and Rielay slipped by, plunging into the crowd of people, dodging elbows and waving arms along the way.
“You,” she said sliding onto the barstool next to the forlorn looking man, hunched in his seat reading something idly off of a datapad. “Look like you could use company and a drink. What can I get you?”
“I...uh…” the man jerked in surprise as she spoke, as if she had given him quite a fright and Rielay smiled, giving a little ‘hey welcome back to reality’ wave before signalling to the bartender. “I don’t…”
“Uh-huh,” she hummed, gesturing over to the man’s mostly empty glass she said, “He’ll have another of whatever that was, and can you just surprise me with something that won’t knock me on my ass? On me. Thank you!”
When she glanced over at the man again he was staring at her like she had three heads and she gave a little sigh. “Oh don’t look at me like that I swear I’m completely sober.” she mentally whacked herself upside the head as another thought crossed her mind. “However I am incredibly rude for not introducing myself. Captain Rielay Taqq, pleased to sit on this barstool near you.”
She waited patiently for a moment of recognition--though Idan did chuckle lightly at her scattered rambling-- and when she didn’t get one after several beats her lower lip popped out, another exasperated sigh tearing from her. “Stars I retire after a decades spanning career and all it takes is a few years for me to fade into anonymity.” she sulked for another moment, silently lamenting the death of her career. “I bet you’d know who Emeldir Deryn is. Everyone knows who Emeldir Deryn is. Damn kid, getting all the glory.”
If she were perhaps a bit less observant she would have missed the brief look of...maybe not panic but something akin to nerves flash across the man’s face before it was schooled back into a neutrally confused look. Curiosity spiked in her--clearly she wasn’t wrong--but nonetheless she artfully chose not to push it. It wasn’t uncommon for people to come across her fellow captain, not with his galaxy spanning jobs and adventures that got him into trouble anywhere and everywhere.
“Don’t worry ‘bout it if you do, we’re friends, he and I, and I don’t get too pissy when he doesn’t mention me.” her deadpanned joke seemed to stumble again, her attempted friend staring at her like he wasn’t exactly sure what to make of her--which was fair enough she supposed, and not an uncommon reaction--and she scaled it back a notch. “Right, never mind, I don’t think I caught your name…?”
The man started slightly when the bartender thunked their refilled glasses by their arms before cutting his eyes back over to Rielay. They were dark and still shadowed with the whispers of suspicion, even in the glow of the lights. “Idan Lumielle…”
“Alright, Idan,” Rielay stuck her hand out. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. If you’re looking for company…”
He smiled tentatively at her, taking her proffered hand in a little shake. “I wouldn’t mind at all.”
Rielay beamed and Idan too seemed to relax, if just a little bit.
Conversation was fairly easy in a bar such as this--the music was loud enough that a few words every few minutes was passable and head nodding and laughing without any understanding was perfectly acceptable. Wrapping her hands around her glass, she hooked her feet behind the rungs of her stool and hummed as she listened to the music thrumming around them in one such temporary lack of conversation between them. It was a thumping beat, the words high and near indecipherable in the din--hardly the live music that her old haunt, The Rusty Freighter, on Nar Shaddaa had boasted. “You know, I used to sing in a bar like this for a living. Saved up for my ship that way.”
“Oh? You sing?” Idan cut his eyes over to her first, curious, then back to the speakers hidden somewhere in the corner between the ceiling and the walls. “I imagine that was a much different atmosphere. Unless you too sounded like a pack of crazed akk dogs.”
It was a comment dry at the Tatooine sand that Rielay had not expected from a man such as Idan, enough to give her pause for a beat before laughter bubbled in her chest and she threw her head back, laughing aloud with a fisted hand pressed over her mouth.
---
Rielay sighed as her holocomm chimed for the second time, looking apologetically at Idan. Esrin’s frequency didn’t chime often on the rare night when she was away from home but when it did...well, she wasn’t going to risk driving home to find her house burned to the ground.
“I’m sorry, I need to take this.” instead of fighting her way through the crowds where she was undoubtedly going to either get knocked into a table or a drink spilled down her front--she had worked bars on Nar Shaddaa, she had learned, never again--she turned her back to the wall, hunching over her holocomm so she could hear it as she answered.
Immediately her four year old’s face filled the frame, all big grin, freckles galore, and stubby lekku. In the background she could hear Sirixa trying to get her sister to put down the device and from the way the visual was rocking like a ship hitting turbulence she was physically trying to pull it away as well. “Mama!” Rina greeted over Sirixa’s increasingly irritated voice, chubby hands ripping away the device and setting it very deliberately on some surface Rielay couldn’t see. “Hi mama!”
“Hey Rina-baby,” Rielay couldn’t suppress the amusement in her voice, even if she was suspicious of the apparent lack of their father. Anytime her girls were on their own there was bound to be trouble.
“Moomm,” Sirixa popped into frame, the fourteen year old frazzled and grumpy. “Rina grabbed dad’s holo and now she won’t give it back--”
“As I can see.” she interjected patiently, not even thinking of letting a bickering match start. “I’m a little afraid to ask...but where is your dad?”
“Getting us a snack.” Rina answered very prim and proper--far too innocent and far too enunciated to be anything but fully aware that she was being mischievous beyond measure. Stars help her but she was pretty sure too much of her had ended up in her daughter.
"And dad,” Sirixa said pointedly. “Told us to not bother mom tonight remember?”
Rina’s round face strained up to glare at her older sister. “I had something’ta share!”
If the young cathar rolled her eyes any more they were going to get stuck that way and while Rielay usually wouldn’t let it slide, she wasn’t going to start up an argument in the middle of a bar; she wasn’t that mother. With an exaggerated wave of her hand, Sirixa made it exuberantly clear that she wasn’t impressed. “Oh yeah, and that is?”
“I…” Rina’s face scrunched up. “Now I don’t remember!”
“That’s alright, darling--” Rielay started before Sirxa’s sigh crackled across the holo speakers. She swore her daughter even pinched the bridge of her nose.
“Of course you don’t.”
“Girls…” she warned, though before a bickering match could break out both their heads jerked to look at something out of frame. A something that Rielay could only assume was their father, as Sirixa yanked the holocomm from Rina’s momentarily slack fingers with a hissed,
“‘Kay thanks, bye, sorry mom.”
She buried her face in a hand, suppressing laughter when the call finally disconnected. “I’m sorry about that, they’re just--” she paused as she looked up. Idan was looking at where the image had flickered out, something forlorn and wistful coming across his expression.
“Are they your girls?”
“They are,” Rielay couldn’t keep the beam of pride away that always accompanied talking about the two little gremlins she called her daughters. “Even the grumpy kitten--you’d think she was the household police officer from all the dictating she does.”
She turned back around to face Idan again, bracing one arm against the counter and narrowing her good eye at him; he seemed to have fallen into some sort of distraction and she had a sinking suspicion she had somehow unintentionally tread out onto thin ice. “Do you have kids of your own? Kicking up chaos somewhere off Corellia?”
Idan hummed noncommittally, wavering between shaking his head and nodding before finally bobbing his head in something exactly in the middle. “I do...she’s with her mother.”
Oh, a brief moment of regret flashed through her as she realized she hadn’t just touched a nerve, but full out stomped on it. Perhaps she would have been better off shouldering her way outside to take the call. “I’m...sorry? I’m sorry if I’ve stuck my nose where it doesn’t belong--I do that more often than you’d probably expect.”
The best way Rielay could describe his reaction was that it was if she had reached out and tasted him with an electrostaff; he startled, jolting back into himself, and glanced sideways at her with another odd expression. She couldn’t get a good handled read on him, if she were herself from a few years ago she would’ve been suspicious--now she was just honestly a little concerned.
“No, it’s quite alright...I just…” Idan scrunched up his nose, indecision flashing like pain across his face. “It’s...difficult? Being apart from them.”
Making a noise caught somewhere between uncertain agreement and apology, she drummed her fingers on the table and nodded. “I can agree with that. But I’ve got a feeling you’re situation runs a bit deeper than simply leaving your little girl for a few days on a job.”
After a beat of bated breath she realized that oh no, she’d not just stomped on a nerve, she’d jammed her heel in deep and ground it in deeper. She really needed to stop doing that. She made an unhappy noise in the back of her throat, eyes jumping around to avoid any of the awkward tension she’d definitely created.
It did nothing to breath the tension when from the corner of her good eye she caught a glint of metal to the side of Idan’s belt--a lightsaber if she knew anything about lightsabers, which she didn’t, except that they were usually cylindrical and had shiny bits and this had both--and blurted; “Well fuck, you’re a Jedi?!”
If Idan was offended at all by her lack of eloquence he didn’t show it, dipping his head with a soft laugh and a hand jumping up to rub the nape of his neck. “Sort of...I guess you could say that.”
Never claiming to be wonderful at dealing with gray areas, Rielay’s brows drew together, her head tilting to the side not unlike a befuddled kath hound. “You’re...sort of a Jedi?”
“Well no…” another half laugh, another hum stalling in nature. “I am a Jedi, it’s just...complicated.”
“Complicated,” Rielay parroted back before giving a little nod along. Complicated she was well acquainted with. Complicated was Ien Ossus not being to untangle the Ascendancy from his life as a smuggler, complicated was being the wife of a Republic soldier while she herself worked outside the lines of the Republic. It was the force that knotted strings of paths, crossed them over and created a muddled mess. “So you’re a Jedi...got it.”
At the very least he relaxed when she didn’t pry more, tracing his finger around his nearing empty glass. “Technically you could say I’m the Barsen’thor, if that’s important to you in the slightest.”
If it was meant to get a reaction out of her, it didn’t. The title sounded familiar in the back of her head, as if she’d heard it in some Republic report or another, or perhaps heard Esrin mention it offhandedly once, but if the hope was for it to instill the reverence or fear of the gods in her then it didn’t work. Not wanting to offend, she widened her eye and bobbed her head a bit with an, “Ooh, Barsen’thor...didn’t realize I was in the presence of some Jedi greatness.”
Whether that earning her an inelegant snort was a good or bad thing she still wasn’t sure. “Jedi greatness is a bit of a stretch.” Idan looked at her from the corner of his eye, mouth quirking up. “What about you--are you some secret crime syndicate leader I should be swearing reverence to, Captain?”
She knew a change of subject when she saw one and the dry humor blindsided her enough that she paused, brow arching before she clapped her palm down on the bar top with a giggle. “Not at all, just a little ol starship captain in that regard. My partner in crime--well, not actual crime, we’re good smugglers mind you--partner in business is the one with the fancy title, the Voidhound and everything. I’m just a captain.”
Even that wasn’t true anymore and she held up a finger to amend, “I used to just be a captain. My reputation remains, but I retired from the business.”
“That’s a course of action I can understand,” Idan mused. “Getting out of the spotlight, out of the chaos.”
She knocked her knuckles against the wood in agreement. “Cheers to that; I’ll leave that to the likes of Deryn and Ossus now...I’ve got my hands full enough with my kids to be playing that game anymore.”
In the brief pause, as if they’d cosmically dared the universe to interrupt them, Idan’s commlink chimed, noise overpowered by the crowd, but a greenlight blinking on the surface. For a moment they both stared at it, letting it blink woefully unacknowledged.
“Speaking of,” Idan smiled ruefully, tapping the band of his commlink knowingly. “That would be the chaos summoning. Thank you for the drink and the conversation, Captain.”
“Rielay,” she said on a whim, sliding down from her barstool as he stood up. She barely came up to his chin without standing on her tiptoes and she tilted her chin up to meeting his eyes, sticking her hand out. “You can call me Rielay. And let me at least walk with you out...I should be getting home anyway.”
With a small lift if his brows, she was graced with an earnest smile as they started their dance through the crowds of people, tables, and errant chairs, Rielay following in the path Idan cleared. Breaking out into the cool night air, backed with the sounds of late night traffic and the sounds of the bar muffled behind the door the whoosed closed behind them, he paused to add, “It was lovely to meet you Rielay. Thank you, honestly, for the hospitality.”
With a humbled lift of her shoulders, she brushed the thanks away, though she offered a smile of her own. A mischievous grin, more like. “You know what they say...drink with a Corellian and they’ll be your friend forever. If you ever find yourself in a spot of trouble...I’ll take a short jaunt out of retirement.”
She doubted any manner of force wielding Jedi would ever need a semi-retired smuggler’s help and yet Idan still looked oddly taken aback, touched almost. Ducking his head for a moment, hesitating, he finally settled on saying, “I hope I never get in enough trouble to drag you out of your well earned retirement, but maybe our paths will cross in other, more positive ways?”
Practically beaming Rielay didn’t pause before agreeing. “If you ever find yourself around…” cocking her hip and offering a jaunty salute, she finished, “Take care, Idan Lumielle.”
#my writing#swtor#swtor fanfic#fanfic#swtor smuggler#swtor jedi#oc: Taqq#Rielay Taqq#other people's ocs: Idan Lumielle#reblogs appreciated <3#this was so much fun to write once I got into the swing of it#i literally love Idan more than I have words for#so getting to throw my disaster gremlin at him was a great time#i feel like I should apologize on how...ah..*much* Rie is lmao#Idan probably didn't want to deal with her over drinks but you know what it all worked out#now Rielay has a new friend sorry i don't make the rules#well...the rule was already made BUT STILL#this is the origin story
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Sign up, scene one, first draft
On a secret mission to recruit new members for the Resistance, Finn meets a survivor of a war long gone.
Finn & Maul’s Excellent Adventure | 2.6k | post-TLJ
It’s one-sixty standard days after the end, an early evening with awful humidity and a storm brewing on the horizon. It’s one-sixty-four after the end, or one-sixty-five, or one-sixty-three, depending on the count—Hosnia Prime, Slip, FN-2187—but mostly it’s a hundred and sixty days after. After the death of the hero Luke Skywalker. After the annihilation of most of the Resistance, in the First Order’s assaults on D’Qar and Crait and several other outposts they only heard about—or, more to the point, didn’t—days later. That’s the date that matters right now, the event that’s lead to Finn standing in a narrow alley watching the deserted main street of Rishi’s ninety-third largest city, observing a small picturesque bar, running down the last hour until he meets with a potential new ally. A hundred and sixty days.
Almost half a year after the First Order won. Their ascent from small challenger—all-encompassing from the inside it had felt, but on the first leg of their flight from Crait Finn had read and eavesdropped and chatted to whoever would answer, in order to hear about history from a less biased perspective but mostly to stall the panic galumphing in his head, and for most of last twenty-three years, the Order’d been barely a blip on any radar but General Organa’s—to one of two factions warring for control, to the Order being the only major consolidated power structure in the known galaxy, give or take a few criminal conclaves and a few multi-planet corporate production chains. The one bully left.
It doesn’t have anything like the awesome reach of the Old Republic, one government from Bonadan to Imynosoph as the textbooks said, or even the slow-healing tatters of the New Republic. It doesn’t have that reach yet.
Total domination is inevitable.
Finn had warned Rey and Solo and the small orange pirate woman, a long time ago. ‘They'll slaughter us,’ he’d told them, ‘there is nothing we can do but run,’ and that had been before he’d seen how little the Hero Generals of the Rebellion could do against Kylo Ren. Before he’d watched them slaughtered before his own eyes. Before he’d heard the death-screams of every soul on Hosnia Prime, thousands of parsecs away. It had been back when he’d still thought the Resistance was a resurgent army spoiling to take on the legions of the First Order, and not just two-hundred people mourning their dead. Two hundred. That’s what Kaydel had announced, wild-eyed and shock-sweaty, after three sleepless days of calling and disconnecting and rerouting and encrypting and calling again, every personal frequency she’d remembered or been read from scraps of flimsi another survivor had kept sewed into the lining of their boots. Two hundred. Finn would put them at around six hundred survivors total, factoring in the uncontactable and the ones he wasn’t informed about out of a lingering sense of distrust, but still—it’s basically a rounding error of people. It’s not even a tenth of the number of troopers in FN-legion alone. They’ve lost.
He’d wanted to run, back then, before Hosnia Prime. Almost managed, and really, in retrospect, would it even have made that much of a difference? The Resistance would still have been fucked, give or take an exploded Starkiller. He would still have been frequenting small out-of-the-way bars on planets as-yet below the Order’s radar. He would still have watched every second he could of local holonet newscast, ears pricked for any mention of fights or unexplainable communications breakdowns with nearby planets. He would have still been afraid.
The only difference, really, is that he wouldn’t be out setting up meetings with people in those bars. He wouldn’t be trying to convince them to sign over their lives for a war they will not ever win.
(When Poe had brought up the need for recruitment, four days after the end, Finn had completely supported him, and not solely out of friendship. They’d been huddled in the increasingly rank and grimy main area of the Falcon, talking strategy with General Organa and General Chewbacca and Major Kalonia and a dozen more, Kaydel had just reported their numbers, and it had been obvious. ‘The Order is evil. People need to know that they have a chance, that we will stand by their side, and they will join us,’ Poe had said, and looked at Finn then. Finn had smiled back at him. ‘We’ve just been holed up on our bases, completely disconnected,’ Avga had added. ‘That’s why no-one came when we called for aid. We need to get out there and talk to people.’ Chewbacca had warbled something that apparently translated to, ‘I will talk to Lando.’ In the end, they had all agreed to split up. Another sensible decision: they need to cover ground quickly, they’ll be less conspicuous, and if someone gets caught the Resistance won’t be vaporized in its entirety. This way, at least, it won’t be quick: death from a thousand cuts instead, the pessimistic side of Finn’s brain adds.)
Recruitment is still their only option, if they want so postpone their inevitable failure. Finn just wishes that back then, signing up for the mission, for the Resistance, while running on fumes and terror, he’d considered: just how hard it was going to be. No, not hard. Impossible.
Poe’s calls—bi-weekly at least, a lifeline after they’d had to split up seventy days ago to pursue diverging leads—brim with life, with stories of the people he’s met and sent onwards, and Finn gets it. Talking to Poe, who wouldn’t be kindled with hope and fight? Rey is the last student of the legendary Luke Skywalker, and also, she’s great. She’s Rey. Rose knows the underbelly of the glittering worlds, knows just how to hit the pain-points. Finn hasn’t commed General Organa, since he’s been the one to suggest the isolated cell structure in the first place and he’ll be damned if he’s the one to compromise their operational security now, but surely few will have denied her a hearing. Chewbacca is very persuasive, he’s been told. And so on.
All Finn has to offer is tales of the First Order’s atrocities. Of massacres and orphans and miles of identical benches in front of identical tables with identical meal-kits on them, spaced no more or less than exactly fifty centimetres apart.
He’s been huddled, more than twice now, in a corner with a potential recruit, and then been shown a pocket-chain holo of children wrapping themselves around their parent’s neck. He’s advised, ‘Know where they are at all times. Keep watch. Tell everyone: watch your kids. The Order is efficient, they won’t bother hunting a single family. You’ll be safer if you leave the city, or if you stay… when you hear the noise of the Star Destroyer, grab your children and run. Don’t look back. Or you will never see them again.’ He’s met with fifty people now. He hasn’t recruited a single one.
It’s futile. There’s nothing left to do but try again.
Half an hour left until the current attempt, a meeting with a local journalist who may grant the Resistance’s cause exposure at the very least. Finn doesn’t know what she looks like—which makes him uneasy, sure, but it’s not like he can fault anyone for paranoia when dealing with the Order—but she’d said that she would be easy to find, since there’s never much happening on a mid-week night, especially with the weather.
Looks like she was right: the main street is deserted, still, except for… in front of the bar Finn’s been surveilling, a young nautolan woman is now crouching, clad in a black apron over her smart pantsuit. A tiny nametag’s affixed that Finn can’t read from this distance, but no matter: open bar door, uniformed woman. Probably not the journalist then. She must be staff, out on a smoke break—she’s sucking on a small tube and coughing out yellow mist, and then she stands in it until it dissipates. Even more humidity. Finn’s sweating by proxy. He doesn’t miss much from his old life, but the climate-controlled armor was nice.
She crouches down again, ignorant of Finn’s presence, one hand on her vaporator and the other ruffling the leaves of a cluster of pavement flowers.
When Finn’s eyes return—twenty to meetup now—she’s still there. Early dinner break? Slow day? Slacker with insufficient supervision? Something more sinister? Her eyes turn in the direction of Finn’s alleyway, and he ducks, alarmed, but they pass over it, until she’s staring straight down the wide street. Finn follows her gaze, and oh. She’s watching the sundown.
It’s peeking through a torn hole in the storm clouds, and then it falls below the mountain. As the light slowly dies, the whole street is wreathed, writhing, in hot red and orange, and—Finn almost, almost succeeds in not seeing the fire of Tuanul. Slip’s hand, dead, blood. Rounding up the villagers. The circle. The pleading. The blaster fire. The smell. Fuck, that smell.
The nautolan is gone when Finn looks up again, and there’s no-one else outside: no-one here to notice his quick sightless glance, his flinch, his shudder. No-one to watch him kneeling, face towards an untouched door, eyes shut and heaving up his breakfast, careful not to get any sick on his jacket. Finn decides to be grateful. No-one to judge. No-one will report him to Phasma, not ever again. Ten to meetup.
Might as well go in now and get a good table.
The door gives a pleasant jingle when Finn enters. It’s the only way out, apparently, bar the two massive front windows flanking it, which already narrows the seating options considerably: he might be hidden from outside view in one of the booths tucked in the corner beside the bar, but he would also, if it comes to it, be fucked. There haven’t been any signs of First Order activity in the region, but you can never be too careful.
(‘I know where the nearest escape pods are,’ Finn had declared, hours before the end. ‘’Course you do,’ Rose had replied, and Finn had felt the sting he’d been meant to feel, the scorn. The gaping distance between their lives: FN-2187 had known every escape pod on Starkiller Base and the Finalizer and every other ship he’d ever been on. Closing his eyes, he could still call up every detail. Each had come with its own fantasies attached, of how he’d use it to get away, if only he had a pilot.
Also, it’s just good sense.)
There’s only one other customer inside: a bald old man of a species Finn can’t place, with horns and a patterned face almost like a zabrak, but in stark red and black instead of the customary muted browns. It should be familiar. Finn had taken a module on the biology of all galactic species, back when he’d believed he might one day become an officer like Phasma. ‘All species’: another of the Order’s lies? At any rate, the man is sat at the table to the left of the exit, the one Finn would have picked. A gnarled walking stick is leaning against the table at his left. No tell-tale bulges of a blaster straining his tight black shirt or the loose trousers. He’s alone, head bent, nursing a big glass filled with clear liquid. No indication he’s even heard Finn walk in. A local drunk?
A massive inconvenience, anyway. He might have fine hearing, so Finn can’t have a conspirative meeting just one table down. Next to the door is a bust, then. There’s also the door to the kitchen, right beside the bar, but if the nautolan—nametag ‘Ahn Artega, bartender,’ he was right—if she went out front to smoke, there probably won’t be an exit there. He nods at her and takes a trip to the toilets, but there are no ways outside there, either, not even windows big enough to squeeze through.
It’s enough to ratchet up his paranoia, when he takes a seat at the window-table furthest from the old man. No-one is looking at him—in the reflection in the window, he can see the old man staring at his glass, and the bored bartender stacking a massive pyramid of limes—but someone is watching. A cold sensation running down the durasteel patch in his spine. It’s just nerves, he tells himself: for all Finn’s instincts have always served him well, there’s no-one following him. He’s been having this feeling for over two months now, intermittently, and nothing’s come off it. No-one’s following. He’s been covering his tracks carefully.
It’s a relief, when Ahn Artega comes over with the menu. “Are you waiting for someone?”
“Yeah.” Fifteen past, now. “She told me she might run a little late, though. Can I get a drink first?”
When Artega returns with an Alderaani light beer, she also offers to explain the menu, a muted sympathy in her eyes. She must think Finn’s being stood up. She’s probably right. The journalist seemed like a sensible woman, and tangling with the Order is anything but. “It’s no trouble. Early evenings are always quiet, this place doesn’t start buzzing until ten o’clock. Anyway, this is my grandpa’s place, and I’m sure you’ve never had any food like it in your life! I know for a fact that this is the only Alderaani restaurant within four quadrants, if not on the entire Triellus Trade Route! We have a lot of the original spices too, because great-grandpa set up his kitchen garden here before the Destruction of Alderaan. A lot of the vegetables are extinct now, though. Especially the ones from the south polar region, where our family is from, so we mostly serve Aldera City cooking—an intergalactic hub, you know, so they used a lot of ingredients that weren’t native to Alderaan in the first place—give me a second. Mister, a refill?”
While she takes care of the old man, Finn studies the flimsi menu. There are pictures printed onto it. One of them, he’s seen before: a young girl in white with a crown of braids, flanked by a tall blue-clad man and a woman in a regal blue dress.
“Princess Leia Organa, bless her memory.”
“What?!”
It’s not that Finn has somehow missed news of her death, though, he soon realizes. Ahn explains, “The last Royal of Alderaan. She survived the Destruction, you know? She was a Senator, one of only hundreds of thousands off home when the Empire attacked. A remarkable woman, founder of the New Republic, even Chief of State. She was the New Republic, really. Papa gave me a biography of her, and I read it over and over, I nearly followed her into politics. Good thing I didn’t. The restaurant saved me. Hosnia Prime, gone like that. All those people, all those politicians, and Princess Leia, too.”
Finn could tell her that General Organa lived. He could talk of what she did after politics. Of how she was the first to recognize the new threat, how she built the Resistance. He doesn’t: he doesn’t want her to join up. He doesn’t want her to die. There is so little of Alderaan left, and he wants no part in its destruction. This is a tiny bar in little city on a small planet off the major trade routes, and the First Order might never come here. After the end, it might even be the only safe place left.
Instead, he stays, for mains and desert and drinks, until the restaurant fills up and Ahn is too busy to make small talk anymore. He crosses the journalist off his list of leads. He makes plans for describing the bar’s coordinates to General Organa if he can risk contacting her, of for Poe to pass on. He joins a freighter crew bound for his next futile destination.
He doesn’t notice the old man again for two planets.
#to be revised a lot because i have forgotten how to write tbqh#but those new pictures reminded me that i'm writing a post-tlj fic and that should really be done while it's still current?#otoh this is very much for an audience so small it's just me anyway#still angry disney doesn't seem to be making finn a jedi but in my heart of hearts i want him to learn from an ex-sith & forge his own path#dimtraces makes things
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Plenty of Fish
Pairing: Killervibe (Caitlin Snow/Cisco Ramon)
Rating: T
Notes: I should be studying :)
Summary: Cisco and Caitlin go on a stakeout.
Read on Ao3 here!
“So Ralph’s missing, there’s a species of mobster fish people stealing humans who all seem to have sea-diving skills—“
“—Merpeople,” Cisco interjected from his chair.
Iris shot him a withering look.
“Hey! I’m not gonna gender discriminate the mobsters by assuming they’re all men. Women can be underwater crime lords too.”
Cisco caught Caitlin biting back a grin from behind her lab, where she was carefully analyzing severed gills from a murdered family member of these fish people species.
“They’re not Merpeople,” Barry stressed, running his hand over his face. “They called themselves The...Bretans?”
Cisco pursed his lips. “All I’m saying is if you’re gonna tell me there’s fish that can walk on land, that’s a textbook definition of a Merperson. We’re under qualified, I think we should call Aquaman.”
“We’re not calling Aquaman Cisco, I only met him once for, like, three seconds. Besides, they kidnapped Ralph. That makes this our problem.”
“Oh Ralph,” Caitlin muttered, “Why’d you have to go boating in the Bermuda Triangle over New Years?”
“Okay, we’re getting off track,” Iris said, clapping her hands like an elementary school teacher, a behavioural technique that came in handy more than Cisco cared to admit. “Babe, maybe instead of taunting Cisco, you give him something to do.”
“Fine!” Barry glanced at Caitlin and snapped his fingers with an idea. “Cisco, why don’t you try vibing the gills?”
Both Cisco and Caitlin made a face.
“Oh, that’s gross but whatever. Ralph owes me.”
Caitlin delicately picked up the limp gills from behind her microscope with her gloves for Cisco.
He put his hands on the wet flesh and gasped as the world tilted and twirled. His head never seemed to get used to the bone crushing pressure that came with vibes.
Suddenly it was dark, and Cisco had to blink several times to adjust to the zero lighting. It was nighttime, that’s why it was hard to see. He didn’t know how or why, but he was absolutely certain this scene is tonight. He heard talking in gibberish smattered with several words of broken English by—Yep, those were Merpeople alright. Men (And two women! Beat that Iris!) in business suits with fins sprouting out of their human backs. He turned to the right and recognized the laundromat down the street. The left showed a small house with—
“An address!” He stumbled out of the vibe and back into reality. “I got an address for their next meetup sometime tonight. Here. Central City.”
Barry and Iris high fived as Caitlin deposited the fish parts to strip off her gooey gloves. She placed a hand on Cisco’s shoulder, steadying him.
“Maybe they’ll have Ralph,” said Barry.
Iris shook her head. “Why do these Bretans even need Ralph anyway? He doesn’t fit with the rest of the kidnapped people unless he’s been hiding a passion for deep sea diving from us.”
Cisco pointed at her, “That’s totally plausible.”
“No no,” Caitlin refuted. “I’m assuming it’s his unique polymer physiology. If he could stretch and contort himself into any manner, that gives him the ability to be an excellent swimmer, the best swimmer, maybe, this side of the coast.”
Cisco nodded along, catching her drift. “So you don’t think they want to sell him as a part of their kidnapping trade. You think they want him for something.”
“Precisely.” Caitlin beamed at him. Cisco grinned back, her excitement infectious. Caitlin’s hand had yet still to leave Cisco’s shoulder. He liked it, her touch on him. It was gravitational, like she was trying to tether him to her after his vibe. Unnecessary, but nice.
“Cool,” Barry said, taking notes on the whiteboard. “So far this is our best lead.”
He looked between Cisco and Caitlin.
“You two have been on a roll today, feel up for a classic stakeout? I’ve got the feeling this is the kind of thing Joe would rather sit out.”
Cisco turned to Caitlin, who had let go of him to shrug off her lab coat. She wrinkled her nose. “Staying in a car all night in the middle of the winter?”
Cisco pouted. “Aww, c’mon. It’s been forever since we’ve done sleuthing together, not since like, 2016 when we pretended to be Reverb and Killer Frost. You have to admit that was fun.”
Caitlin bit her lip. “It was fun.”
“I’ll keep us entertained. We can get Big Belly Burger...Catch up on Stranger Things…”
Cisco knew she was in the moment her mouth twitched upwards at the mention of Big Belly Burger. “Fine, I’m in,” she said. “We can leave at sundown.”
“Yaaasss!” Cisco cheered, and both Barry and Iris chuckled at his enthusiasm.
“We can take the Star Labs Van,” Caitlin suggested.
“Oh man, I forgot all about that thing. Does it even have gas?” He ran to the nearest sink to wipe the rest of the gunk off his hands.
“Okay,” Barry smiled, and then his phone chirped. “CCPD, I gotta go. Sounds like a plan guys, keep me posted.”
~.~
They met at the Star Labs garage at the end of the day, both Cisco and Caitlin bundled up for their stakeout. It was only 14 degrees Fahrenheit, and they’d most probably have to cut the heat off to stay inconspicuous.
Caitlin climbed into the passenger seat of the van and looked Cisco over. “Cute hat.”
“Thanks, you got it for me.”
“Oh, I know. I also got you those boots because you weren’t dressing warm enough last winter.”
Cisco spared her a glance as he turned on the engine, glad to see that they still had a half tank.
“Gracias mi corazoncito. I appreciate it.”
Caitlin blushed. Cisco did a double take. Was it the Spanish or the endearment? It sort of just slipped out, and he hadn't thought she knew what corazoncito meant.
Huh, interesting.
He rubbed his hands against the cold steering wheel in a feeble attempt to warm them up, then put his foot on the pedal to get on the road.
“So what do you think the Merpeople—“
“Bretans.”
"— Merpeople are up to?” Cisco asked as he pulled into the Big Belly Burger Drive-Thru line. “Kidnapping humans to pull off some sort of The Little Mermaid deal? Offering the legs of innocent humans to a sea witch so they can swap their tails?”
Caitlin laughed. “That’s absurd.”
“Hey, nothing’s impossible anymore. King Shark literally exists, remember? All we know is one day merpeople—“
“Bretans!”
“Sheesh, fine. One day Bretans were a myth and now there are fish citizens causing mayhem on Earth 1.”
“It does sound fishy,” Caitlin joked.
Cisco stuck out his tongue as he inched their van closer to the menu sign and then asked her what she wanted to order.
~.~
“This is boring. I’m bored,” Caitlin complained, yawning twenty minutes after they finished season 3 of Stranger Things.
Cisco stared at the monitor screens set up in front of them showing a whole lot of nothing and agreed. “Yeah, I don’t know how Joe does this all the time.”
Caitlin pulled out her phone to scroll through her Facebook. Cisco peered over her shoulder.
“Hey,” he said, “You should download the popular app of the week. It’s a mobile version of ‘Would You Rather?’ The developers grew up in Central City apparently so they threw in a few city questions.”
Caitlin typed in the search bar of the App Store and downloaded it.
She turned her phone sideways to read the first question. “Would you rather go without CC Jitters for a year or Big Belly Burger for a year? You go first.”
Cisco blinked. “Oh damn, that’s tough….Big Belly? We go to CC Jitters all the time, it would be too hard to not drink coffee.”
Caitlin waved her half eaten burger in front of his face. “Really? A whole year without this? Because I wouldn’t give up these for anything. Buy your own coffee maker. ”
Cisco scowled. “Next question.”
Caitlin chuckled, “Um, okay,” She swiped left. "Would you rather be saved by Killer Frost, Elongated Man or Vibe? Hey! I made it on the app!"
"Of course you did. You're a superhero."
Caitlin looked out the window. "Thanks, that means a lot."
"It's true. I know she'd have my back any day."
"Well that's awkward because I'd pick Ralph."
Cisco rolled his eyes, "Oh, you're a comedian now?"
Caitlin swiped left. “Have your shirts always be two sizes too big or two sizes too small?”
“Two sizes too big,” they both said decisively at the same time.
Caitlin gave him a funny look.
“You never wear anything your size anyways.”
“Not true!” Cisco yelped, “It’s called layering.”
She reached over to pinch the arm of his coat. “You’ve got muscles Mr. I Throw Open A Hundred Breaches Per Day, but noooo, nobody ever notices.”
“You do.”
Caitlin spluttered. “That’s because I’m your doctor.”
“Alright, gimme your phone. These questions are lame.” Caitlin handed her phone obediently, and Cisco skipped through the next seven or so plain questions.
“Would you rather be alone for the rest of your life or constantly be around annoying people?” He read out loud. “Well, I mean we’re literally sitting in a van freezing our asses off because Ralph got abducted by Merpeople, so I think our choice is pretty clear.”
Caitlin shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “I would’ve said alone a few years ago.”
Cisco stopped skipping questions to squint at her, realizing she must've been serious if she hadn't chastised him for using the wrong term. “Really?”
Caitlin shrugged. “You and Ronnie, and the original Star Labs changed me. Made me a people person.”
“Awww.” He reached into his bag to see what was left and gave Caitlin back her phone. He pulled out his little carton of fries. “Fry?” He offered a perfect one, and she took it with her teeth from right out of his hand. Cisco’s mouth dropped slightly at her brazenness.
“Thanks,” she said. “Mmm, okay. Oh, here’s one for you. Would you rather give up bathing for a month or the Internet for a month?”
Cisco’s conflicted face was enough to set Caitlin off, and she shook her head rapidly. “You know what, don’t answer that one, I don’t want to know.”
“I would’ve said I’d let go of the Internet!”
“Sure.”
“I would have! Eventually.”
Cisco watched as Caitlin swiped next and went tense in her parka.
“What?” He asked uneasily.
She stared at the screen, tilting it away from him, then began talking in a fast, clipped pace.
“Sleep with your ex or with your best friend? Mine is obvious—I don’t have a thing for necrophilia with a sociopath.” She smiled tightly.
Cisco nearly gagged. He forced himself to swallow the lukewarm curly fries down his throat. This was...Not a good question. He ignored his internal panic to focus on Caitlin’s answer.
“Hey—No. You’re forgetting Julian.”
Caitlin sloshed around her cup of Big Belly Soda, “No, we were never official.”
Cisco narrowed his eyes. “You so were. All he would do is babble about you. Bossing me around to make things too, ‘Caitlin needs the necklace this’ — ‘Caitlin needs the antidote that’ —And a whole lot of ‘Hey mates, do you know where Caitlin likes to eat.’ ”
It was weird the way he was getting worked up. At the end of the day, Cisco owes Julian his life. If it weren’t for his enormous crush, Caitlin would be dead. And if she had really gone the same year as Dante, he might have done something beyond stupid, something that would probably make him un-alive today. The thought made him want to throw up.
Caitlin scoffed. “He was a good friend, I'll give him that. Then Barry told me about his trip to 2020 where Killer Frost helped Savitar. Julian was her jailer. Like a fascinated zoo keeper. I was his pet project.”
Cisco made another disgruntled face. “He was okay. Not for you, though.”
Caitlin hummed in agreement. “Your turn.”
“Best friend,” Cisco said rather quickly.
He turned to look out the window, hoping that the Merpeople would make an appearance in the next ten seconds or so that they wouldn't have to continue this conversation.
“What—Not Cynthia? You’d choose Barry?”
“Barry? Uh, no—I meant, um. Well—“ he chuckled awkwardly, scratching his head and turned to her. “I was thinking of you?”
“Me?” Caitlin repeated, sounding a little strangled.
He nodded. “You’re my best friend Cait, c’mon, you know that.”
Caitlin seemed stuck on the fact that he didn’t pick Cynthia.
Cisco shrugged when she asked again, wiping his hands on his napkin and crinkling his paper hamburger wrapper tightly in his palm. “I can’t go back to Cindy, not even for a night. My mental health is at risk. You know how I was like—Our connection, it was a fix. I blamed Harry for being addicted to the Thinking Cap but I was on a year long inter-dimensional vibrational frequency high.”
He opened a tiny breach and threw the wrapper into it. A distance away it opened again over a public garbage can for the wrapper to fall directly into.
Caitlin watched the whole thing with avid attention, marveling silently in the way she always couldn’t help when he did something cool.
“Show off,” she teased. He smiled.
“And now, it took almost a year, but I’m—I’m me again. I’ve gotten so far.”
Caitlin’s eyes softened for him. “You have,” she said gently, putting a hand on his bouncing knee. “I’m glad.”
Cisco’s mouth went dry, and his eyes fell to his lap where her fingers were curled around his leg. Her long pretty, talented fingers that have performed surgery and shot ice from their tips. His brain was going a little foggy as he belatedly wondered what Caitlin truly meant. She said...She said she’d sleep with her best friend. That was him. Sure, it came out of a game of Would You Rather, the crowd pleaser gossip maker of middle school sleepovers, so Cisco shouldn’t be overthinking.
But. But.
He wasn’t imagining this.
When he lifted his head, Caitlin had moved. She was leaning out of her passenger seat, over the greasy paper bags and her abandoned phone brightly probing the next question.
“Tell me to stop,” she dared, her breath making a cloud of mist in the cold space between them.
Cisco’s eyes fell to her mouth. “Don’t stop.”
Her hand on his knee slid to his thigh, where she braced her weight.
And then they were kissing. And kissing. And kissing.
Cisco’s mind went blissfully blank for the first time in his life. His hands automatically went to her waist and he pulled her body forward so that she was sitting horizontally on his lap, her boots now stretched against the passenger door as her back pressed against the driver’s side.
She knocked the woolen hat off his head to grab onto his hair as he tugged away the red scarf from around her neck in a frantic motion. He felt her pulse under the pressure of his thumb. He slid his finger away and kissed her neck, feeling the heat of her exposed skin on his lips. Caitlin shuddered in his arms and made a small desperate sound of “Please.”
The car was cold and quiet, but they were weren’t. Flushed and pressed together, with hitched breathing and Caitlin’s sweet gasps as Cisco ran his hands up and down her sweater-clad back.
Cisco deepened the next kiss, and he felt the air crackle with energy between them. This, this was real. This was what Cisco had been missing, and it’s crazy because he knew very well what it felt like to be slammed by numbing thoughts and feeling. It’s what he lived, what he experienced with his vibes, like being dunked underwater without the chance to hold your breath or close your eyes. But this was all-encompassing, this was every vibe and more, and it’s not terror or apprehension that zoltz through them, heightening all of their senses as Cisco groaned when greeted by Caitlin’s tongue. It was better, crisper, sweeter, clearer. It was two people, two pieces slotting together and solving a perfect puzzle for the first time.
It’s Caitlin who pulled away first, brushing some of Cisco’s flyaway hair from her mouth, and stared at him wide eyed and unfocused, like she were intoxicated.
“Hi,” she breathed, then zipped down his winter coat to bury her embarrassment into his scarf. His hands moved instinctively to stroke her hair. “That was supposed to be just one kiss,” she confessed.
“Oh my god.” He knew how dazed he sounded, awestruck and dreamy. “Oh my god, Caitlin,” he said again, and took a deep slow breath to prevent his heart from seizing out of his chest.
He wanted her mouth back on his, he wanted her hands back in his hair. Most of all, he wanted to see her, in the light, not in the darkness of the Star Labs van. He wanted to put his hands underneath her sweater and brush his hands over the dip of her spine, the swell of her breasts, he wanted her. Wants her. Wants to have her like this forever.
“Hi. That was amazing.”
He wrapped a piece of her hair around his finger. “You’re so beautiful. I finally get to tell you that,” he whispered.
Caitlin lifted her face up from her hiding spot to kiss him again, chaste in comparison to what they were doing before. Cisco will never get over the shock of it. “It’s not the first time you’ve ever said that to me.” “Yeah,” he agreed, letting go of her hair, “But now you know what it means.”
“What does it mean?”
“It means...Everything it did before. You look beautiful, and not just because you curl your hair or wear lipstick or can transform yourself into Killer Frost, but because you control crazy power, you care about people, you’re smart and kind and brave and supportive and protective of everyone, not just me. You’re the one I trust and you’re the one I go to for anything because you will always listen, and...Cait, you’re not trying to impress anybody, that’s just you. It’s a beautiful thing.”
Caitlin tried to duck her head from the praise, but he wouldn’t allow it.
And,” he smirked slyly, “It also means you’re the most attractive kisser I’ve ever seen.”
Caitlin snorted. “You can barely see me in this dim light—And your eyes were closed the entire time.”
“I know. But I don’t need daylight to know that—Hey, you peeked!”
Caitlin’s shy giggles dissolved into full out laughter. Cisco watched her fondly.
She shifted in his lap, “Cisco,” she said, “I want to be with you.”
Cisco searched into her eyes. She was so open, expressive. It was new for her. "Really? She nodded. Caitlin looked down at her lap and took Cisco’s hands. “I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life. Cisco? Can I tell you something?”
“Anything,” he promised. She had his full attention.
“I caught the Barry Allen complex.”
Cisco raised an eyebrow. “The what?”
“The Barry Allen complex,” she said simply. “I’m in love with my best friend.”
Cisco felt the world fade away around them as he held her close.
“Huh,” he mused, “Then I guess I have the Barry Allen complex too.”
~.~
Barry spun around the cortex in exasperation. “I just don’t understand how you two could be sitting outside in a car for five hours and not notice human fish conducting a slave trade right there. What happened?!? ”
“Uhhhh…” Caitlin said as Cisco scratched his head and mumbled, “They’re called Bretans. Don’t be insensitive.”
Barry rolled his eyes and began to type furiously at the monitor. “Okay, maybe if I hack the next building’s security cameras I can figure out around what time it happened.”
Caitlin’s eyes grew horrifically wide as Cisco lunged for the computer.
“No don't! No no no no no, Barry!” Cisco shouted as he fought Barry for the mouse, but the damn speedster was too quick and then it was too late.
Yes, the footage was grainy, but it was unmistakable that the two people in the Star Labs van were in the middle of a midnight romp as four businessmen and two businesswomen with fins had a lengthy conversation about a man several feet away in chains.
Barry froze in shock, then quickly exited out of the window when his brain rebooted.
“Really? The Star Labs Van?” Iris judged from the other side of the room. Otherwise, Cisco realized weirdly, she didn’t seem all that surprised.
Caitlin covered her face with her hands in mortification as Cisco pushed Barry out of the chair. “I’m so sorry Sweetheart, I don’t care if I have to build a submarine to find the Bretans under the sea in order to find Ralph and the missing people, we are deleting this tape.”
Barry nodded dumbly from the floor, covering his eyes. “I have no need to see that ever again.”
FIN
End Note: I bet ya'll think I made this up. Nope. Ralph Dibny literally got kidnapped by merpeople called the Bretans (their undersea city was called Breta) who set up a human slave-trade thingy in the comics' silver era. Look it up! PS: It took all my strength not to name this Stakeout Makeout.
#killervibe#thatkillervibe fic#thatkillervibe#cisco ramon x caitlin snow#Cisco Ramon#Caitlin Snow#fluff#the flash fic#the flash fanfiction#had so much fun writing this you have no idea
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Current Activities - Conan Exiles #4
So I just posted my latest story “Assassination at the Summit”, and while I am proud of its contents, it has some background information. Basically starting at "Her outside clanmates had been navigating..." was practically written in a blind fury. I’ve calmed down now but this is my blog and I feel like ranting. First off, the character depicted in that story, Dey Yin, is an actual player. She’s an excellent writer and I strive to reach to her level of para-posting, as they give excellent opportunities to reply and react and I want to offer the same to other players when they interact with me. Also, she loves the story.
I am happy with the results as there was some effort put into it. Even in my blind fury, the last few parts turned out well. I’ve also been trying to work on my verb tense. Either I missed that class in school or over a decade of roleplaying has completely rewritten how my brain perceives verb tense. You might notice that my tenses swap between past and present, sometimes within the same line. This is why writers have editors, people. Anyway it was mostly a background plot, like many of my stories are. Basically I like to lay some groundwork before I claim things. I do not simply want to claim to be a whiskey baroness, I want to actually show it. I want people to see, through a narrative, the effort put in importing a whiskey from the outside world. The server is too small for specific events to surround these kinds of things, so I compensate by writing short stories instead. Quick aside; I actually did host an RP event with my character announcing the existence of her clan. It went very well with around ~9 attendees.
Whiskey and fun were had by all. Anyway. I spoke of this plot in-character with others and another player on the server, someone I’ve been trying to arrange RP with for... years, I think, across a few MMO’s. We’ve met on an ERP gathering website (ya’ll know the one) but our interactions could never quite get sexual. They’re a good writer and roleplayer and they definitely value quality over fluff. I can respect that. We had some meetups in GW2 but maybe we just don’t make characters that gel well because we just couldn’t quite get to the fluffy stuff. Anyway she happens to follow me on CE. Fair enough. No prompting, she just saw that I was playing a lot and figured she’d hop on the ship. She’s doing well on the server, has a whole clan, etc. Good for her. But upon hearing about this plot of mine, her character offers some... assistance. Instead of being a simple assassination, she wants it to be poison. She insists, having an IC personal stake against Khitan generals. Fair enough, but then she hands Livia an actual quest. Get three specific items. The items in question are in fact part of the several artifacts you need to remove your bracelet and “win” the game (which deletes your save file by the way). Not the whole thing, just three of them. The scourgestone was probably the easiest, and I had some IC help from a guy. It was all great fun. Admittedly I was salty at first, adding extra steps to a straightforward plotline. Then I got to writing it out and I enjoyed the idea of dungeon delving being written into it. It started to feel like an actual epic on the likes of Beowulf, Clash of the Titans, and indeed, actual Conan books and lore. Sword and sorcery. I’m not claiming to write as well as any of those (though I’m pretty sure the Conan movies didn’t have any writers, holy shit), but it started to FEEL like an epic RPG story. I didn’t have it completely written out but it had about three full paragraphs worth. Might have eked out an extra two before... bullshit happens. The salt starts to come back when the player drags their feet about getting the last item for the poison crafting. They are focusing on their clan base and that looks fine and all, but a boss hunt only needed to be asked in global “anyone want to help?”, 3-4 people would have done fine and we had 3 at any given moment, each of us with powerful weapons and armor. We could have gotten it at any time. Again, fair on them to a certain extent. I’m sure they have a job and when they were online, she was likely wrangling her clanmates and building assignments. I get that, but... again, we could have had this wrapped up in 15 minutes at any given point. Eventually my character tries to meet with another newbie on the server (as she does) but finds them already at this person’s clan base. Figure it’d be a good time for Livia to check in on the poison and see when we can go hunting but... Well. Let me give you quick context on this person’s character. John Mulaney has a comedy set talking about his father and how straight-laced he tends to be. He recalls a story (true or not, who can tell?) where John himself and some siblings (I think? Other kids?) were screaming for McDonalds. The father pulls into the drive through, orders a single black coffee, and drives away. John states something to the effect of “in retrospect, that was the funniest thing I’ve seen in my entire life”. Well, this person’s character is basically that guy. But a woman. Livia already has stated that she’s got quite the stick up her ass. Anyway they’ve traded barbs as you might expect, Livia being more of a carefree roll-with-punches and make-money kind of woman. Livia drops an offhanded line about “Maybe I’ll just get my people to slit the general’s throat and save me a headache [in dealing with this character]”. All we get in response is “So be it” and are then soon banned from her stronghold. That’s when I lowkey lose it. I don’t explode, I don’t rant, I don’t PM them. In fact, there’s almost no OOC communication between me and this person and I think it worked against us. She never once asked me permission to force a poison subplot in my story. The character just “strongly insisted” and Livia was like “fine, let’s make the thing” and I went off to get two of the three items THAT DAY. A week goes by, then that bullshit happens. What a waste of my time. I keep thinking back to a roleplaying guide I posted on this server’s website. It’s the same one I’ve copied and pasted across many MMO’s I’ve roleplayed on. There’s a section in there that talks about IC drama having no affect on OOC, or it shouldn’t. I’ve spent many years separating IC and OOC, often times whispering people after an OOC argument of like “That was fun, thanks for the RP!” That kind of thing. Unfortunately, this whole thing did have OOC consequences. The entire plot and story was essentially a gift to the player for being active, friendly, fun to interact with and being a good writer. I wanted to give the player and character something they would appreciate, but instead was delayed by a player insisting on adding a step. And then never stepped forward. It wasted my time and theirs and got in the way of that RP. Thus, I feel like my anger while perhaps not entirely justified, still makes sense in this context. My time was wasted, and now I’m possibly barred from RP with that person and their clan, or at least by going to their base. Not a single word OOCly was spoken between us throughout this. I remember PMing them the paragraph that featured them, asking if there was anything that needed to be changed. They said no, it was fine for the context and remaining an enigma. Fair enough. That was it. She never asked me permission to bullrush into our plot, nor did I outwardly refuse it. I thought nothing of it, and indeed as I mentioned earlier I did have some fun writing out dungeon adventures and Livia’s general hatred of the jungle biome. There was fun stuff there, class adventuring that I don’t write nearly enough about. Then it was all just negated because the other character absolutely refused to meet mine halfway in terms of diplomacy. Livia tried. I tried. So starting from “Her outside clanmates had been navigating the unknown country...” in that story, it was actually a rush job in fuming rage, so much rage my chest actually hurt for a few minutes. I do think it turned out well but I do believe I could have padded more with describing the architecture, culture, the nuances of Livia’s clan navigating the cities, dodging police and bribing informants. There’s a lot I could have done there but the story could have been done a week ago and instead I was left hanging because one player bullrushed into my plot and didn’t want to go kill a boss. I’m angry. I’m annoyed. Heavy sigh. Now, I still have two more stories to write. I have asked and received a new patron item (you can get some cosmetics if you donate to the server), a glowing polearm.
It looks very badass, especially at night. Actually hurts if you look at it too long. It’s great. I have it named “Imbued Polearm” and I have no idea why or how Livia would be in possession of it. I just saw someone having glowing purple daggers and thought “...I still haven’t requested a weapon decal for my patron perks. I want that a lot.” Was thinking of a Ymir ritual but white and blue is his motif so I’m not sure that’d work. Derketo is the goddess of sex, not weapons, and would sooner imbue Livia was a penis to properly spread seed long before she’d give her followers a badass weapon. Next story will be a little easier to write. I discovered with some proper dying the reptile armor does not look half bad at all. The aforementioned guy friend says it looks better on females than males, and I believe it;
Not sure why Tumblr blows that way the fuck up but there you go. Due to quality loss, it does look decent in-game. Definitely a “demon dragon slayer” type story to be had there. Was brainstorming that an alpha got tired of some adventurer killing all their babies at the spawning grounds... Next time Livia goes hunting she’d be in for quite the surprise.
All that and I didn’t even get into my clan growing and even having someone build me a proper stronghold.
Currently can house 6 clanmates with a master bedroom for myself. I plan on adding another floor to make way for 4 more rooms as I tend to get members when Livia goes save newly exiled players from the river. It’s actually in that building the above party screenshot took place. (There’s currently two spare rooms, I believe. Hint hint, come join us.)
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