#i assume that that is who is typing in each panel.??. all signs point to that being who is typing in each panel. is anyone typing in the las | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pluto-art · 4 years ago

Text

Softly - PatB Fan Fiction

Type: Hurt/Comfort Rating: PG Summary: Baby Brain has known little but pain and misery in an unloving world, but when he gets paired up with a new lab student things change in a way he didn’t expect.

This started out as a mini story in a Discord server and got... a little out of hand. What you see here is how much I typed out in the server.

He hadn't been there long. Two... maybe three weeks? The cold metal had finally become familiar beneath his feet, and the strange blocks, though generally tasteless, kept him alive. There wasn't much that made his new living quarters interesting; there was only so much one could do in a pile of aspen shavings day after day. Occasionally, they would hook up to his cage some sort of liquid that wasn't his usual watery fair. He could never decipher or make heads or tails of the words on the sides of the bottles, saying things like D-D-T or S-N-I-P-P-L-E. The only distinguishing feature to him was that sometimes they tasted terrible, sometimes quite flavorful, and sometimes they tasted like nothing at all. Almost all of them turned his stomach. Driven to thirst, however, he'd play their cruel game. Choice was not something that existed in this crisp, sterile world; at least, not from a personal standpoint. When it did exist it meant the difference between a shock and a treat; a yellow light or a red light; a warm room or a cold one. Choice was manufactured.

He still cried almost every night. He tried to quiet the tears, but they didn't always listen. The others heard him. One or two laughed cynically. Most said nothing; they'd shed their own fair share and would again sooner than later. A single kind soul, a mother rat some doors down from him, occasionally whispered to him a lullaby or two when everyone else but them were asleep. They were songs she sang to her own children to quiet their tears, and she had no less compassion for this unfortunate soul, who was even worse off than her own brood -- he didn't even have any parents to nuzzle up to. Had she her way, she would have mutilated every last living human being in the facility. It was bad enough that they were tested on mercilessly as adults. To do so to children was simply insidious. Alas, she was simply a rat, and so could only dream of days when she wasn't.

Not that BR-41N (that's what they called him; no one had real names here) hadn't tried to be friendly with his captures. Aside from a particularly nasty poke from some long, thin, prickly object inserted into his thigh the first day (it had stung; oh, it had stung...) the proceeding couple of days had consisted of simple maze runs and treadmill exercises. Nothing too elaborate. As a child, he'd been used to running around a lot in the field, and sifting through the labyrinths reminded him of the long grass he'd play hide-and-seek in back home, except at the end of them was a tasty prize: a piece of cheese. He liked cheese. In the wild, it was hard to come by, but here they gave it to him generously, provided he finished the courses, which he always did. The fourth day followed in much the same way, but the fifth day brought something different: a sudden shock and a broken tail. That had changed his view of things. Perhaps the harsh awakening wouldn't have been so terrible had it not been followed by other unspeakable things -- poisoned food; friends made that, the next day, would never be seen again; more shocks given as punishment for choosing an incorrect panel; injections that made him see things he'd never seen, monsters and strange colors and other scary things that kept him awake at night; loud noises that came out of nowhere; and often, quite often, the terrifying echo of squeaks, barks, and meows that made up the daily music of Acme Laboratories. He hated it. He hated all of it. More than anything, he wanted to go home. He missed the warmth; the love; the soft whisper of the wind that traveled through his ivory fur. He wanted all of it back. But life? She was a harsh mistress. And no amount of crying, screaming, or pleading, seemed to ever make her turn an ear.

As the days turned into weeks, and the weeks... months, more than just a tail was broken. Trust was broken. Hope was broken. Spirit... was broken. If there was any love, if there was any future, it wasn't here. Kindness had proved unfruitful, and patience had run its course. He didn't find reason to be willing, nor show charity, towards those who made his life a living hell. What reason was there? What profit was in it? Time had told him, quite bluntly, there wasn't. It had taken him a full month to admit defeat, but admit it he did, and cynical he became, 'til every hand that reached in to grab him was ripe to be bitten, every shot that punctured his stomach was the unwelcome norm, and every newcomer that tried to strike up a friendship was easily ignored. The latter-most was simply wasting their time. He could read the colors on the cages now. He knew that a red mark meant "death". He only wondered why he, as of yet, had never been given one himself. It was as if life itself was laughing at him -- keeping him as witness to the horrors that went on inside the dragon's cave, yet never giving him the satisfaction of death.

And so the third month dawned, chilly and barren, or so the scientists said. Autumn had come. Not that any of the residents within the thick, cemented walls could see it. But the laboratory personnel spoke of it -- gold and crimson leaves, hot chocolate, dried wheat fields. He could almost smell the corn; could almost feel the breeze.... Days passed. For the first time, they gave him a cage mate. E8-WN, they called him. He was kind, but BR-41N had little love left to give. Besides, he had the red tag. It seemed they had only placed him here temporarily due to a lack of space. The next day he was taken to the back. The tiniest shred of pity nipped at BR-41N as he watched the little peach-furred mouse be carried into the surgical room, a curious look on his face. Another emotion was also present within him: jealousy. On the 17th day of September, a new thing happened -- a thing that, for the first time in a while, made the little mouse turn his head.

The school year had started, and, as such, fresh meat was welcomed into the laboratory in the form of fourteen college students looking to continue pursuits in medical science. They were all very quiet during the tour, one or two of them occasionally lifting a hand to ask a question about course materials or contact information. They were each, it seemed, to be given a subject: an animal from the laboratory to study, train, and conduct experiments on. Rats, mice, and hamsters had already been picked out for them, and each was given a black-coated subject or a brown-furred captive to take charge of. Each student's rodent was to be kept in the lab at all times, and specific instructions were given them as to the proper handling of the creatures. At least two experiments were to be conducted on them daily, three if possible. They could spend as much time with their charge as they wished, so long as they got their homework done. Fourteen students. Fourteen rodents. Four months to finish their work. Simple.

As it stood, however, there had been a miscalculation. Fourteen students. Fourteen rodents.... No. Not fourteen. Only thirteen. There'd been an error. They'd forgotten to set aside an extra subject. The unfortunate student without a charge was a college girl named Rachel. All other rodents were going through tests conducted by various personnel in the lab, set aside specifically for said conductions that couldn't currently be tampered with. All except one....

"So, um, Rachel," their teacher said, checking his student list. "You may have to share with... Peterson.... You know what? We might... actually have an extra for you. Hold on. Let me ask...."

And he departed into another room, calling for a "Jackson".

"Jackson! Can she use BR-41N? I don't think he's going through any rigorous testing.... Yeah? Okay. Yeah, that would work out perfectly. Thanks."

He turned back to his brood, many of whom looked quite eager to jump in to these intriguing studies, others looking downright bored.

"Okay. We have one for you. His code name is BR-41N. He's not going through any major testing, and he's generally given the usual works -- labyrinths, shock treatment, all that. But, um... he bites. Really bad. So... you'll have to watch it, all right?"

"Okay," Rachel nodded, looking a little nervous.

"All right. Umm.... Good. Yes. So, let's head back to the main campus, and... we'll start your work tomorrow."

And they left.

BR-41N had only heard part of all this, and had understood none of it. He shivered in his cage, taking a moment to drink some water out of the bottle that hung there. While the arrival of such a large group intrigued him, especially since it consisted of a much younger set than normal, it also made him nervous. Was it a sign of good things to come... or bad? Or just more of the usual fair? One could only wonder. For now, he was simply grateful that the cheese they'd given him today was, for once, not laced with drugs.

She came by on a Tuesday.

It was an hour after a cosmetics test that he heard a knock on the table. His skin still burned. He was cowering in a far corner, and looked back over his shoulder hesitantly.

Rachel stood there, smiling at him.

"Hello, little one." He stared at her, nonplussed. "I guess you're my charge. You gonna say hello?"

And she opened up the door of his cage.

He shuffled back further. He knew all too well by this point that the opening of a door meant one of two things: food or torture. Considering the fact that she didn't smell of food, he had to assume it was the latter.

"It's okay. I'm not gonna hurt you. Well, hopefully not...."

Although he didn't understand a word of what she said, her tone was calm; soothing. No one in the lab ever talked to him like this. He couldn't help but stare curiously.

She held her hand up to the entrance and made a soft, squeak-like sound with her mouth. He frowned at her. As if that was going to convince him. He turned away.

"No? I don't blame you," she replied, taking a look at his clipboard. "BR-41N. What kind of a freak name is that? Mind if I call you Brain? Or Brian?"

No response.

"We'll go with Brian. Brain sounds kinda weird."

Brian it was.

She kept the door open, and he braced himself. Any moment now, gloved hands would be protruding into his enclosure to wrap themselves firmly about him, not tight enough to choke him, but secure enough that he couldn't escape. But the hand didn't come. If anything, she pulled up a chair, sat down, and rested her arms upon the table on which his cage sat. She was... giving him a choice? He stared at her, unsure how to react.

"Come on, sweet heart," she cooed, rubbing her fingers together encouragingly.

But he wouldn't budge. If this was some new trick, it wasn't going to work. He wished she'd just grab him and get it over with. Sooner or later, she'd have to. It was only a matter of time. And so he waited....

She sat there for a full twenty minutes, trying her best to get him to come over, but he refused to budge, and so she gave up. As expected, she still ran him through a maze, but instead of reaching in to grab him, she found a clear tube and scooped him up in it, covering both ends before depositing him into the run as such. It was... odd, but less invasive than what he was used to. He rather wished the others would do it that way.

Via the same method she returned him to his cage at the end of the test. As usual, he took to the corner, assuming his usual cowardly pose, but he turned to look at her as she spoke.

"Sorry about that. Nice job, though. See you tomorrow."

And so went the next day... and the next, always with the same introduction: She'd open his door, pull up a chair, and offer her hand to him. After twenty minutes of nothing, she'd scoop him up in the tube, deposit him in the maze or whatever other test he was to perform that day, and return him in the same manner. This went on for four whole weeks, always with a kind word, never coupled with a harsh prod or poking of his skin. He came to somewhat look forward to her almost daily visits, not because he trusted her (the one time she had tried touching him [with gloves on, of course], he'd given her a fair warning in the form of a bite), but because it was the only two hours during the day in which he knew he wouldn't be fed poison, given a shot, or made to inhale cigarette smoke. The other students joked with her. By far, she had the unfriendliest mouse out of all of them, and they found her kind advances a waste of time.

"Just pick him up!" a tall boy said.

Most of them had no problem with handling their subjects by the tail; at least, the boys generally didn't. The girls were kinder, but even they didn't take the time to get to know their animals intimately. They also were given the harder tests to conduct on their critters and so tried not to get attached.

Whereas most of the rats, mice, and hamsters given to the students would eventually be killed in some way or other at the end of the semester, via through vivisection, gassing, cancer, or some other method, BR-41N, or... Brian, as Rachel now called him, was not scheduled to be offed anytime soon and so could not undergo such rigorous experiments. As such, she got both the easy job of conducting very simple tests on him, and also the hard job of trying to work with the most hostile mouse in the entire facility.

"He's never gonna warm up to you," one of the other students said.

Rachel took it as a challenge.

"Watch me," she said.

But Brian was proving to be a much tougher can than expected. By the sixth week, he still hadn't even bothered to venture near the cage entrance when she sat near it, even with tasty treats in hand. He simply didn't trust anyone. Not anymore....

October came and went, to be replaced with a frosty November. Whenever Brian saw Rachel now she had a cup of tea in hand, the better to ward off the coming winter chill. Still she tried; still he refused to relent. Until the 9th....

It was late. She hadn't been able to get to the lab until 8:00 PM due to unfortunate series of events that involved a fender bender, two appointments, and a last minute essay. When she got to the lab she was tired... and not at all in the mood to deal with Brian's B.S., and he knew it.

"'Sup?" she asked him wearily, setting down her things in a huff. Only a handful of other people were still in the facility at this hour, none of them students. Fine by her. She preferred the quiet anyway. "We're gonna do something a little different today, bud."

Indeed.... He perked his ears up at her exhausted tone and the fact that, for once, she didn't open the cage door. But she did still slide the chair up to his table.

On the opposite side of the room was a television on a rolling stand. Normally, this was used for surgeries and other experiments. Once in a blue moon, however, someone would use it for recreational purposes -- to watch the local news when there was time to kill. Most fortunately for Rachel, it also came with a VHS player. Into it she popped a tape, before sitting down in the chair and grabbing her hot cup of peppermint tea. Despite himself, Brian took a whiff of the tea, whose scent had wafted into his cage and tickled his nose. It smelled good.

The film began to play. Brian didn't know the name of it, but whatever it was it was made up of very pretty pictures and featured a lot of dogs... and snow (at least at the beginning). It was rather soothing. Still, he didn't move from his spot, save to grab a lab block at one point to munch on, more to pass the time than anything. His stomach was still a little unsettled from earlier. Privately, he was a bit ticked off at the girl. Had she been a bit earlier he might have avoided the shock treatments. Not that they would have withheld them regardless.

It wasn't until the second song that his attention was at last caught.

"La la lu, La la lu, Oh my little star sweeper, I'll sweep the star dust for you...."

Sweetly did the animated woman sing her little song, and Brian, captivated, perked his ears. He looked up at the television. She was still singing. He stepped forward, bit by bit, until he was right up to the closed door, two little paws coming up to grasp at the bars of his cage as he stared, entranced, at the screen.

"La la lu, La la lu, And may love be your keeper, La la lu, La la lu, La la luuuuu."

And so it ended, all within the span of a minute, if that, but something had stirred with him -- a remembrance of home, and warmth, and what it was like to be loved.

He was still clutching at the bars when he noticed that Rachel was smiling at him, and he promptly sped back to his corner, embarrassed.

"Atta boy," she whispered, still grinning softly at him.

He refused to look at her. He wasn't touched by it or anything. He wasn't....

"It's okay. Don't be embarrassed," said the girl. "I like that song, too."

Brian stayed in his corner the rest of the movie, but the song never left his mind.

---

The next day proceeded as normal. Once again, Rachel sat by his cage. Once again, she had brought a treat, albeit one he'd never seen before, nor smelled, for that matter. It was small... and white... and fluffy, and it smelled sugary and sweet. He wanted it. Oh, he wanted it so very badly. But nothing that ever came from the fingers of a scientist, even a soft-spoken one, was innocent. And so he refused, his back turned to her.

"Stubborn butt," said Rachel, and by her tone alone Brian could tell that it was a snide comment. He ignored her.

"Here."

As had occurred many times before, she left the treat in his cage near the entrance, closed the door, and sat to watch him. His eyes shifted towards the treat. It sat there, staring at him, mocking him. Eat me, it said. No, he thought. Oh, but it smelled so good....

Rachel sighed. So did Brian. She rested her head in her arms, exasperated. Maybe it really wasn't worth it....

Brian licked his lips. Perhaps....

He took a step forward. Rachel remained where she was, head in her arms, not looking at him. He moved another step. She was still as a stone. Patter patter patter patter patter... GRAB. He swooped back to his corner as fast as possible, marshmallow in his mouth. Rachel looked up... and chuckled. Brian dug into the treat, enjoying every second of it as teeth sunk into the savory delight. He'd never tasted anything this good before. It was better than mother's milk; much better than lab pellets; better than cheese....

"Silly little thing," Rachel giggled, smiling as he filled his cheeks with pleasantness. "Wait 'til you see what I bring you tomorrow."

Tomorrow, he was to find out, brought a piece of a doughnut, and the day after that a waffle. He'd never been this darn spoiled before. On the fourth occasion, he was, for once, already at the door, waiting to see what she'd bring. Lady and the Tramp and sugar, it turned out, were the keys to his heart, although he still wouldn't let her touch him. If her hand so much as brushed his fur he was back to his corner in a rush, although, this time, he didn't try to bite her first.

Rachel laughed when she saw the two little paws clutching at the gated entrance.

"You like 'em that much, huh? Here ya' go."

He stepped back to allow her access to the gate, and watched carefully as she placed something savory and smelling of salt inside. He sniffed, investigating as she closed the door. He took a tentative bite. Mmmmm. Yes, this was acceptable. Grabbing it, he rushed back to his usual corner and chowed down.

"Good. A fellow bacon appreciator," Rachel nodded, satisfied.

He ate the entire piece, licking his lips and proceeding to clean himself afterwards. That had been a bit messy. Good, but messy. If there was something he still valued, it was cleanliness. He could at least retain some form of dignity. The state of his fur was one of the few things he still had control over. Unlike some of the other unfortunate chaps, he'd never had to endure surgery or a shaved stomach.

Two little pink ears perked up as his cage door was opened yet again. More treats? No. Just Rachel, hand offered to him once more. Brian sighed. She just wouldn't give up, would she?

A second glance made him aware that she did, in fact, have something in her hand -- another marshmallow. Hmph. Sneaky. And yet, he'd be lying if he said he didn't want it....

"It's okay, little one," Rachel cooed, hand still outstretched, that plump marshmallow beckoning ever so tantalizingly. "I'm not gonna hurt you. I promise."

Brian sighed. He looked down at the floor, then over at her hand.

Rachel's eyes widened a touch, but she otherwise didn't reveal her surprise as Brian moved forward, inch by inch, step by step, towards her hand....

He stopped at the entrance, debating. Dare he...? It was a risk. He'd never willing done this, not since he'd been captured. It was a stupid decision. Stupid. And yet....

Her hand shifted a touch, and Brian shifted nervously with it. Rachel waited with bated breath.

He stepped forward....

In a flash, he'd grabbed the 'mallow from her hand and retreated to the back of his cage, not daring to even think about what he'd just done. It was foolish. It was dangerous. And yet, she hadn't tried to grab him, or even pet him. She'd just... given him a choice. And he'd taken it. Somehow, for some reason, he'd taken it.

Rachel smiled.

"Atta boy."

---

Perhaps it was the mere fact, the tantalizing realization, that he had a choice in the first place, that drew him back, but over the course of the next few weeks, things changed.

It had started slow at first. A light brush of the whiskers here; a sniff of the hand there. But, eventually, Brian, of his own accord, stepped into her hand. And she didn't close her fingers about him harshly, or strangle him, or pick him up by the tail. She simply... let him be. It was kind. It was unobtrusive. It was respectful. And he appreciated it.

No longer did the other students make fun, or joke that she'd never gain his trust. If anything, they questioned her.

"How the heck did you do it?" they'd ask, curious.

Even more confused were the scientists themselves. Not that anyone had tried very hard to gain the little mouse's trust. He was, in their opinion, not worth the time.

But he was to Rachel.

December came, and with it a complete turn-around in Brian's behavior, albeit towards one particular individual.

He eagerly rushed into her hand now. No need for the transportation tube. She could carry him on her shoulder to the maze area and pick him up with her bare hands as she placed him in the labyrinth, although she still made sure to let him take the first step and would, more often than not, simply offer a hand instead of plucking him from her shoulder. He still appreciated this.

Every weekday was now a day to look forward to. Sure, he was still tormented by the main personnel, but for two or three hours, two or three sweet hours, he didn't have to worry about anything. On the days he suffered from a stomach-ache, she'd hold him close to her chest and do her best to rub the pain away, offering him tea to ease his suffering, and if he fell asleep on her shoulder and woke up, shaking, from a bad dream, she'd rock him back and forth, singing "La La Lu" to him until the nightmares went away. On those rare nights, when she could only work late and no one was around, she'd bottle feed him. He'd been hesitant (and a little embarrassed) at first, but any reminder of home was difficult to ignore, and so he ended up embracing each form of love and affection with open paws, clutching tightly to her chest some days, as if this hug would be his last. For all he knew, it could be. He'd gotten used to her visits, but what if she left and never came back? He didn't want that love to leave....

December 14th.

The end of the semester was approaching. Rachel had told him, time and again, that she was leaving soon; that she would miss him; that she'd try to come back for the next semester. Brian understood none of this. He was a mouse, after all. Human language was foreign to him. The most he could understand was the occasional word -- his name, Brian, and various names of foods and tests -- and basic inflections that he knew signified concern, happiness, or contentment. But he didn't understand "leave", or "semester", or "miss". He could tell something was wrong, that she was sad, but as to why, he did not know.

A week from the last day of the semester, she brought a surprise: a movie. It had something to do with a rat, and food. He liked it for those things. He wished he could understand the words. It seemed interesting. He sat on Rachel's shoulder the entire time, at least until the end of the film, during which Rachel offered her hand to him. He accepted. She brought him up to her chest, nuzzling him close.

"I'm going away for a while, but... I'll try to be back next semester."

She petted him gently. He stared up at her, curious and concerned. Why was she so sad?

"I'm going to miss you...," she whispered. And, for the first time, she kissed him on his fuzzy white head. "I love you...."

He didn't understand the words, but he understood what they meant; how they felt.

Slowly, gently, he nuzzled close to her... and licked her fingers. It was the first time he'd shown genuine affection outside of nuzzling since he'd been captured. I love you, too....

He didn't understand it, but... there was something in the air that told him something big was coming. Something new. Something was going to be different....

December 18th came just like any other day. The semester was coming to a close. Many students had already finished their courses and gone home for the holidays. The occasional class still lingered on, including the medical science class. Most all had completed training and experimentation on their subjects for the season and were simply spending the next few days filing reports and filling out last minute essays. Some of the rodents wouldn't live to see the new year. Others had already been subjected to vivisection by their handlers and were far from the lab by this point. Subject BR-41N was one of the few who'd been given the same sheet on their clipboard day after day, week after week: a run of the mill of the usual, simple, non-invasive tests, along with an injection or two. But today was different.

As Rachel stepped up to Brian's cage, sipping at a hot cup of tea and smiling as her charge ran up to the bars to greet her, she frowned as she pulled up the clip board. His tag was yellow. Not the usual blue, but... yellow. She set down her cup, ignoring Brian's squeaky pleas to be let out as she looked over the sheet carefully.

Subject Reserved for Project B.R.A.I.N. // Invasive Study -- Cognitive Psychology, Neuroscience Psychology // 4:00 PM - Dec. 20

There was a pause, in which the dip in Rachel's brow furrowed ever deeper, her eyes roaming about the page scrutinizingly, before she slipped the paper out of its holder and headed back out the way she'd came, Brian looking curiously after her.

She marched all the way to a back office, in which sat one of the laboratory heads: Jackson. He looked up over his square-rimmed glasses as she knocked upon the exposed inner door frame.

"Yes?" he asked, sounding bored.

"Hey. Um.... I think you gave my subject the wrong paper."

"BR-41N?"

"Yeah. He got a yellow."

She stretched out her arm, offering the paper as proof, but he didn't take it. Instead, he looked up at her, fingers meeting at their tips, and said:

"No, I gave you the right paper. That's for BR-41N. His procedure is in two days."

His tone was flat and laced with a thin layer of poison, as if her daring to question him was a challenge.

"But... I thought he was just doing mainly labyrinth tests."

"Ms. Field, I thought you were told...?"

"Told what...?"

"He's been scheduled for this procedure for months. We wanted him fresh and so have eschewed more invasive tests until now. Frankly, you've been spending a little too much time with that mouse. He's gotten too friendly. We're not in the business of developing attachment here."

He said all this with a straight face, completely emotionless. Rachel swallowed thickly.

"Sir, I've... been going over this test. It's... very dangerous."

"Yes."

"It could kill him...."

"Yes?"

Rachel simply stared at him, uncertain of what to say next. He wasn't working with her here....

"Look.... What did you expect? You're studying medical science, correct?"

She nodded.

"Okay, well," he continued, a small chuckle of sarcasm escaping his lips as he said it. "Y-You have to realize that... this is a laboratory. We can't keep every subject. And these tests come with a lot of risks."

"Could you possibly do the test on another subject...?" Rachel asked, choosing her words carefully. "Brian is still kind of young, and..."

"Brian?"

Shoot.

"Sorry, I mean... BR-41N."

"You can't start... naming them, Miss Field. That's when you start getting attached. Understand?"

"I know...," Rachel mumbled, cheeks reddening as she looked down at her shoes.

"And the whole point of using him at this age is because his mind is younger. He's fresh."

"But he's just a baby..."

"Yes? And? A lot of the other students are working with infants."

"This one is...," Rachel began, than stopped. Already she'd said too much.

"Miss Field, if you don't prepare him for the procedure, someone else will. Now, you can either do your assignment or lose your credits. It's your choice."

Rachel sighed. Still holding the paper, she let her arm fall dramatically to her side.

"Fine...."

And she turned to walk off. But...

"Miss Field?"

She looked at him.

"Don't do anything stupid."

"Yes, Sir," Rachel replied, after a hefty pause, and headed back to her charge.

---

Brian didn't understand why Rachel was so quiet that day, nor why she cuddled him so much. She whispered to him something about "breaking out" and "night", but he didn't understand what those things meant, although he heard the urgency in her voice. As a result, he was a little more uptight the rest of the afternoon.

Before leaving, Rachel kissed the top of his head again, before setting him back down in the cage and hooking the door. Her good-byes were all but gibberish to him, although he recognized the word "tomorrow". So he'd be seeing her tomorrow. That was good. At least he had a time frame. He was naive to the rest....

---

December 19th 9:15 PM

BR-41N cleaned his whiskers, pondering.

She hadn't shown up today. Strange. "Tomorrow". She's said "tomorrow". Today was tomorrow. Why hadn't she come?

To his left, in a far corner of the room, someone sneezed in their cage. Brian frowned sadly. It was that hamster again. Whatever they'd given him had put him into a sneezing fit for an hour. Now and then he relapsed.

He yawned, stretched, and made for the food dispenser, when he suddenly heard a sharp click of a door being opened and abruptly snapped shut. He turned in the direction of the door. A light flicked on. Brian smiled.

Rachel's feet slid across the floor in haste. Instead of her usual student lab coat, she was decked out in her normal clothes, complete with backpack. Her hoodie was up, obscuring her hair, save for a few strands that stuck out here and there, as well as part of her face. She moved with purpose, albeit a little covertly, looking over her shoulder every now and then, as if expecting someone to grab her at any minute.

Set in a wall above the entrance to the room, a camera followed her. Rachel's eyes shifted at the sound as she moved towards Brian's cage. She knew she only had five, maybe ten, minutes at best.

Opening the cage door, she held her hand out for Brian to step onto. He hesitated. Something didn't smell right....

"Come on. We're busting you out of here, dude," Rachel whispered.

Brian cocked his head at her questioningly.

"Listen, they're going to put your through that splicer if we don't get you out of here, so come on."

There was an urgency in her voice that, despite his misgivings, compelled him to move forward. He trusted her too much by this point.

"Atta boy," she praised him, tucking him in her shirt pocket.

He peeked out, paws clutching at the edges of the pocket interestedly.

"Let's go," Rachel whispered, turning back to the door and stopping as she realized that someone was already standing there....

Framed in the metal doorway was a woman, thirty-five... maybe forty-something in age. Her arms were crossed, and the expression on her face seemed as taught and firm as the scrunchie tightening her poofy auburn hair. Her long lab coat was still settling; she must have only just gotten there. Rachel recognized this woman. Lana, her name was -- she was one of the head managers at the facility. Jackson had obviously tipped her off.

"Fancied a night stroll?" she asked, tone dripping with sarcasm.

Rachel remained frozen in place, a hand subconsciously cupping her shirt pocket. The gesture didn't go unnoticed.

"You know you're risking a lot for this. That's all your credits down the drain."

"He's worth it," Rachel answered, resolute.

"He's not. You take him and they'll just get another subject."

"At least I'll have saved this one."

"We'd still rather you not take an asset that's been reserved for months for this procedure," Lana nipped, taking a step forward.

Rachel took a step back. Her eyes shifted to a door to her left. It led to several other testing rooms and then back out into the main hallway. Some of the doors had security locks. It was the long way around, but if she was fast enough....

"Rachel...," Lana spoke, tone threatening as she advanced. "Put him down."

With each step Lana took towards her, Rachel moved two back. She could feel herself starting to perspire. Gosh, this was a stupid idea....

"Rachel...."

With a hand cupped over her shirt pocket, Rachel darted in the direction of the door, opening it up in a flash and slamming it shut behind her. Already she was racing for the opposite end of the room, where another door stood.

Brian jumped as an alarm went off, followed by red lights that flashed all throughout the facility. Rachel was already in the next room, her heart racing. She could hear the panicked footsteps behind her, mimicking her own, and hoped upon hope that she was faster than her pursuer.

Rachel picked up her pace as she entered the next room. This one, she knew, required an employee badge to open. All of the students had been given security badges, of course, primarily for general access to the entrance and main rooms. They worked on some doors in the facility. Some, but not all. She'd never been in these rooms. Privately, she prayed that they'd open for her.

Slamming her badge up against a wall panel, she bounced up and down on the balls of her feet nervously.

"Come on. Come oooon! Take it!!"

It did. The door unlocked, and she swung it open in haste to make for the next locked door, which also granted her entrance.

She was faster than Lana, but it didn't mean the woman wasn't hot on her heels. Brian shut his eyes tightly, huddling against Rachel's chest on the inside of her pocket as she darted about, her hand still cupping him securely. He knew, somehow, that this was about him. His ears rotated this way and that at the duo of clicking feet racing down the linoleum flooring. Who would win? Who was he most valuable to?

It wasn't until the fourth room that Rachel started to panic. Yet again, she'd reached a door asking for proof of access, except this time... her badge was not accepted. She shook the door handle feebly, knowing it wouldn't open; knowing this was the end of the line. Despite himself, Brian peeked out of the shirt pocket, just in time to see Lana as Rachel swiftly turned around to face the woman, who stood at the opposite end of the room, hair askew and chest heaving as she glared at Rachel and her tiny charge.

"You're persistent, I'll give you that," Lana huffed.

"Why do you need him?! Just let me take him and get another subject!" Rachel bit.

"We let you get away with it and you'll set a precedent! You know that!" Lana snapped right back. "And we don't want to waste any more time. We've spent too much money on this project."

"He's just a baby!"

"All of them are meant to be expendable! Hand him over!"

"No!"

Brian's ears flicked. Rachel held her breath. Was it just them, or did they hear... more footsteps?

"You won't have a choice," Lana said flatly, expressionless as she was joined by not one, not two, but five other lab hands, one of the them Jackson, all of them full-time personnel.

"Rachel.... Hand him over," Jackson said, holding out his hand expectantly.

Rachel glared daggers at him, even though she was fully aware of the impossibility of the situation. Like the mouse she was trying so hard to protect, she was trapped, her back against the wall, literally. They were going to take him. They were going to take him and there was nothing she could do about it....

"I told you not to do anything stupid," Jackson continued.

"Please...," Rachel pleaded, breathing heavily. "Please, let me take care of him. I'll train another in his place as compensation, I swear. Just... don't hurt him."

"And then you'll grow attached to that one and try and kidnap it. We've seen it before. You're not the first," Jackson reprimanded.

"Good," said Rachel. "I'm glad I'm not."

Privately, she wondered why she'd ever signed up for this in the first place. She wanted the degree. She wanted it badly. She also loved animals, and knew that following her passion came with sacrifices. What she hadn't counted on was how difficult it would be to accept that. It wasn't feasible, she realized. In fact, it was darn near impossible.

She looked down at the infant trembling in her pocket -- at this little creature that had captured her heart and locked it away, far away from any hopes and dreams of graduating in the medical field of her choosing. "He's not worth it," Lana had said. Was he not? Brian looked up at her, those glossy little eyes staring at her expectantly, trustingly. She smiled sadly at him and, for the last time, cuddled him close, before looking up at the troop across from her.

"If you want him, come and get him," she challenged. They weren't getting him without a fight.

And they rushed at her.

She tried to escape. Oh, she tried... and failed. They grabbed her by the arms as she wrestled against them, cheering Brian on as he somehow managed to escape from her pocket and slip underneath one of the shelving units in the room. But Lana caught him, Brian squeaking as his tail snagged between the beaker and the small metal panel she'd captured him with. He stared at Rachel, his desperate, panicked expression the last thing she saw before being knocked out.

-------

- Two Years Later -

The plan had failed. Rather spectacularly, he might add....

It was the first time in Brain's memory he could ever recall being caught red-handed by any of the personnel at Acme Labs. It was a miracle he and Pinky had managed to escape, but, despite his best attempts, they'd been separated in the process.

He made for a facility some yards away from the main laboratory, sweating as he squeezed under its front door and immediately hid under a cabinet to his right. Lights flashed now and again beyond the windows, desperate voices accompanying them as the scientists searched here and their for the escapees. Brain silently prayed that Pinky had somehow found a suitable hiding spot.

In his position under the cabinet, he backed up against the wall and slid down it, a paw clutching at his chest as he struggled to catch his breath. After a few seconds, he gulped, sniffed, and buried his face in his knees. Stupid. Stupid.... He'd jeopardized their whole mission. What if they'd captured Pinky? What would they do to him? And even if they did escape, where would they go? He'd ruined everything. Everything....

In his haste to remain undetected, he'd neglected to realize that this room... was not entirely devoid of life. It was a small area -- a security office, to be exact. Numerous monitors took up space on a desk, at which someone sat. They slid out of their chair and stepped over to Brain's hiding place. He noticed... and shivered.

Whatever, whomever, it was got down on their knees to peer at him from just outside the dresser.

"Hello...," they said.

It was a woman. Her voice was soft, and kind, but Brain turned his head away from her prying eyes. Typical. In an effort to not get caught he'd inevitably been ratted out. He immediately considered making a run for it, but, for some reason he couldn't explain, he didn't.

"Hey.... Shh. Shh. It's okay, little one. It's okay," cooed the woman. "You wanna come on out...?"

And she held out a hand to him. She didn't try to grab him, or scare him out. She simply... gave him a choice.

But it had been too long. He didn't recognize her, neither she him... until she noticed the tail. Then she knew.

"Brian...?" she breathed, eyes growing wide.

He stared at her, nonplussed, still shivering.

"Brian, it's me. Rachel," she beckoned, her hand still in place. But he didn't move. If anything, he frowned at her. "Brian"?

And she tried everything -- talking to him soothingly; offering him a treat from her pocket. Nothing worked. Brain simply hid his face once more, willing her to go away; to leave him be; to, hopefully, not report him to the authorities if they came to call.

Rachel sighed. She sat up for a moment, thinking, and blinked. Struck with a sudden idea, she rested her hands on her lap... and began to sing....

“La la lu, La la lu, Oh my little star sweeper, I'll sweep the star dust for you...“

Brain blinked... and lifted his head, ever so slowly....

“La la lu, La la lu, Little soft fluffy sleeper, Here comes a pink cloud for you...“

He stood up... and walked forward, right to the edge of the cabinet. She was still singing.

“La la lu, La la lu, Little wandering angel, Fold up your wings, Close your eyes...”

His mouth was fully open now, his round eyes glossy and getting ever shinier. He couldn't pull his gaze away from her face.

“La la lu, La la lu, And may love be your keeper...

La la lu, La la lu, La la lu....”

Rachel stared at him, smiling. He had completely stepped out from under the cabinet by now, his little body trembling slightly.

"Hello, little star sweeper," Rachel whispered to him.

Breath hitching, Brain ran onto her lap, up her shirt, and clutched tightly to her chest, only a second or two going by before he felt those familiar hands hold him gently, securely.

"Oh, Brian...," she choked, kissing his head. He didn't even flinch.

"Why didn't you come back?" he asked, unable to hold back his tears.

"I couldn't," she answered honestly. "But I was able to keep an eye on you from here."

He sniffed and pulled back a little to look around the room. It was, indeed, a security office, and a fairly high end one at that, decked out with all the works.

"I'm an artist now, but in my part time I take the night shift. They at least let me come back for that, probably 'cause Jackson and Lana are gone now," she chuckled softly. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you this time...."

Brain looked up at her, suddenly understanding. All that time they'd never been caught; never been reported. All those months and years that the camera had simply turned a blind eye to their antics. He thought it was simply negligence. Now he knew why.

"Thank you...," Brain whispered. "And it's... Brain now."

"I know," she smiled. “I still watch tv, ya' know. I just still remember you as my 'Brian'. I'm sorry, Brain."

He couldn't help but smile. All this time....

"Come with me?" Rachel asked him.

"Where?"

"Back to my place. I'll hide you. You can have the guest room, if you'd like."

A sharp knock at the door startled them both, and she quickly ran to her desk, Brain in her hands. She lifted him up and under the desk.

"There's a hidden panel in the roof! Get in it!" she whispered to him urgently.

He found it, albeit with a little difficulty. He pushed at a little area that looked as if it had been cut into... and down shifted a small cubby in which she kept an assortment of odd bits and bobs that were probably not supposed to be in her possession -- special looking keys and badges, among other things. He slipped into it, and Rachel pushed it closed before walking over to answer the door....

Another barrage of bangs thundered at the entrance as Rachel opened it, a hand on her hip as she held the door ajar, doing her best to look as ticked off as possible.

"Sheesh! Gimme a minute to finish pouring my tea! Gosh...."

Outside stood two gentlemen, both in lab coats, looking frantic.

"Have you seen a mouse?" one of them said. He was taller and appeared to be the leader. "White. Large cranium. He was with a companion."

Rachel shrugged.

"Is that what you guys have been looking for?"

"You haven't seen them on your cameras?" the second man asked, panting a little.

Rachel shook her head.

"No, I haven't seen anything."

The men exchanged glances.

"We'd better search the place, just to make sure," the leader said, and without further ado they barged in and began searching every nook, cranny, drawer, and trash can they could. They failed to find the hidden cubby, however. "Can we ask you to roll back the footage?"

"Sure, but you're not gonna find anything," Rachel shrugged again.

They did as permitted, scrutinizing every bit of film captured within the last ten minutes. Although they managed to catch one or two glimpses of the mice leaving the lab, as expected, they couldn't find hair no hide of them on any other roll. Behind their backs, Rachel smirked. Smart little guy. Even on the run, he'd purposely made sure not to walk in the path of the cameras.

After several more minutes of scrutiny, they finally gave up, heading for the door in a huff.

"Sorry for your time. Report to us if you find anything," said the leader.

"No problem," Rachel said, shutting the door with a snap behind them and sighing deeply. Yeah, right..., she thought.

Going back to her desk, she pushed open the hidden cubby. It lowered down and Brain immediately jumped into her hand, breathing rather heavily.

"Sorry, little one," Rachel apologized. I can imagine it's pretty stuffy in there...."

He gave her a look, albeit not a very harsh one. He had no reason to complain.

She raised her hand, allowing him to jump up onto her shoulder.

"They'll be back later to go over more footage," Rachel warned, sitting down at her desk and leaning back in her chair.

"I know," Brain said, licking at his paws and smoothing out his frazzled fur.

Rachel jumped a little and stared at him.

"Heh. I forgot you guys talk now...."

"Is that a problem...?" Brain asked, a little nervously.

Rachel smiled.

"Not at all."

She reached out a hand to scratch at a spot behind his ears.

"What are you...? Ohhhh-ho-ho-ho...," Brain melted, reeling a little at first before giving way to a goofy smile and a thumping foot as he pressed into the touch.

"Still got that little sensitive spot, huh?" Rachel chuckled, her scratches evolving into a head massage.

Brain practically fell off her shoulder, Rachel catching him in her hands and raising him up to eye level, the better to get a good look at him. He cleared his throat, embarrassed. How demoralizing.... But Rachel simply beamed at him.

"You know... I really missed you."

"I... wish I could say the same...," Brain confessed, shuffling a foot. He imagined he had thought of her often, as an infant, but over time the memories simply... faded.

Rachel didn't look upset, though.

"I understand. It's okay. I still love you."

"I...," Brain began, then stopped. No. He couldn't bring himself to say it. Even with Pinky he couldn't ever admit such a thing, and he loved Pinky most of all.

"You don't have to say it. I know you do in your heart," Rachel said, and she kissed him tenderly on the top of his head.

His ears flattened as she did it, and he almost immediately smoothed out the area where she'd kissed him, but he couldn't hide the blush tickling his cheeks and ears. Her behavior was cheesy as all get out, but privately he knew she was right. He did care, even if he'd never admit it.

Just then, something, or... someone, slipped underneath the door. A white-furred, lanky somebody.

"Pinky!!" Brain yelped.

Brain leapt off of Rachel in a flash, landing hard on the floor and limping a little as he ran into Pinky's outstretched arms.

"Brain!!" Pinky shouted right back. "Oh, I thought I'd never see you again!!"

He twirled him around in a circle or two before Brain became aware of what he was doing and promptly pushed himself out of Pinky's grasp, clearing his throat, once again embarrassed.

"Y-Yes, well.... I'm... glad you're safe, Pinky," Brain replied awkwardly, patting his companion on the head.

"Ohhh! Who's this, Brain?" Pinky asked, pointing up at Rachel, who still sat in her computer chair, smiling down at them both.

"Umm.... Pinky, this is Rachel. She's... an old friend."

"Nice to meet you, Pinky! I've heard a lot about you. Well, maybe not heard, but... I've seen you guys on the tv a lot!" Rachel said, beaming.

"You have?!" Pinky gasped, clasping two paws to his face in surprise. "Did you hear that, Brain? We're famous!!"

"Pinky, we've been famous many times, all of them never lasting as long as I'd like...," Brain recollected.

"Well, yes, Brain, but never to a friend!"

Rachel smiled and leaned forward a little.

"I have a proposition for you guys."

"For both of us? Is that legal, Brain?" Pinky whispered to his cage mate, looking concerned, to which Brain facepalmed.

"Proposition, Pinky, not proposal."

"Ohhhhhhhhh. Well, that's different then, isn't it?" Pinky said, nodding eagerly to Rachel.

"How would you guys like to come room at my place? Just for as long as you need until you can get off your feet."

Once again, Pinky gasped excitedly.

"Can we, Brain?!"

"Well...," Brain pondered, hesitating. The offer, though generous, made him feel rather... helpless and awkward, as if he was intruding.

"You're welcome to any of the food and stuff. I've got havarti," she smirked.

Pinky gasped again.

"Oh, please, please, please, please, pleeeeaaaaase, Brain?!?" Pinky pleaded again.

"You're... sure you wouldn't mind?" Brain asked. "I'd hate to intrude...."

"My house is yours," Rachel said genuinely. "And it comes with a pool table," she added, winking at Pinky.

Pinky was doing his utmost to contain a squeal, biting his lip and practically bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. Brain rolled his eyes.

"Oh, all right...," he relented.

"YAAAAAY!!" exclaimed Pinky, jumping into Rachel's outstretched hand, followed by Brain, as she lifted them up onto her shoulder.

"You'll have to hide in my backpack on the way to the car," she said. "The next guy is about to swap out with me."

And she pulled her backpack up from off the floor and plopped it onto the desk, opening it up. Pinky sprung off her shoulder as if it was a diving board, plunging into the depths of the backpack, which, by all accounts, wasn't very deep. Pinky didn't seem to mind, though. He had fun "swimming" around amongst the snacks, car keys, pencils, wallet, and little sketchpad all the same. Brain simply shook his head, unable to keep a smile off his face. What an idiot.

Rachel was as good as her word. They were given the guest bedroom, along with access to the rest of the house, food included. Provided they didn't draw too much attention to themselves, they were allowed to tinker and plan all they liked within the safety of the back room, and lie low they did, for Acme Labs was on the hunt for a good number of weeks before they gave up on finding them entirely.

Pinky was quite fond of the seemingly unlimited amount of cheese available in the fridge, along with the plethora of movies Rachel had at her disposal. He was often to be found in front of the television, and if he wasn't there he was by Brain's side almost constantly. Brain was most grateful for the space in which to concoct experiments and conjure up plans for world domination, although he had to improvise more often than not, seeing as he didn't have all of the lab's equipment at his beck and call anymore. It was something he sorely missed, but he couldn't say he minded the warm bed and good food that came with their new living quarters either. It was... nice.

Once in a blue moon (which ended up being once a month), Pinky would request Lady and the Tramp for movie night, not just because he liked it, but because of Brain's unusual reaction to it. He liked to watch him subconsciously lean up against Rachel as they sat next to her, eventually breaking down into a fit of silent tears as "La La Lu" danced around the room. Sometimes Rachel would pick him up, holding him close and massaging his head as he calmed against her chest. Oftentimes, Pinky would join them, cuddling up next to Brain as they nuzzled together in Rachel's warm hands.

"I love you, Brain," Pinky would mumble sweetly, giving him an extra squeeze.

"I love you, little one," whispered Rachel, petting him softly.

I love you, too, said Brain in his own little way, holding them both just a tiny bit tighter, a smile creeping its way up onto his face. It was nice, being loved....

~ I love you, too. ~

The End

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

The ending of this is meant to be sort of an alternate to Pinky, Elmyra, and the Brain. What if they'd ended up there after running away from Acme instead of at Elmyra's?

I didn’t realize until after writing this that it makes no sense for Rachel to be cool with Brain talking one minute, only to be surprised by it the next. It’s a glaring error on my part, but I left it in as a reminder to myself that I need to be more careful. Lol.

Technically, this whole thing is a self-insert, although the name of the girl is not my real name. It’s actually the cognomen of my very first rat. Ha-ha. But the personality of the character is me -- how I talk; act around animals; and most likely what I’d do if put into this situation. The exception is the chase scene. I don’t think I’d act that... panicked? Who knows, though....

This is kind of a way I show compassion for Brain, seeing as I cannot, of course, give him an actual hug. I love Brain more than any other fictional character I’ve ever had the pleasure of watching on screen. It’s not a romantic love or anything. Certainly not. It’s more... maternal. The desire to love and protect is strong. That combination of: individual with a tragic backstory + laboratory setting + main character who happens to be a mouse = the perfect concoction to turn my heart to mush. I owned rats for many years and have a great love for animals, and tend to get attached to certain fictional characters, so here you have the result. He’d be as averse as ever to physical affection, but if I could hold Brain in my hands, plant a kiss on his head, and tell him he’s loved. I would. Thank God for Pinky.

#fan fiction #pinky and the brain

92 notes · View notes

morceid · 4 years ago

Text

Beating The Dead Swan

chapter 5: stuck in a city

read on ao3

<- chapter four

Summary: Derek wants to make sure Spencer’s okay

Word Count: 2.2k

Category: fluff

Content Warnings: none

A/N: today’s my mom’s birthday and i’m not sure if i should be writing this in spite of her or in honor of her

An entire week passed by with no new developments. Everyone on the team was starting to get worried.

“I’m concerned for him, Penelope,” Derek paced around her office.

“He’s fine, Derek, a whole lot better than he was when he first got here.” Penelope said, typing away at her computer.

“I know, that’s what it seems, but haven’t you noticed? He really doesn’t like mentions of the case, but he hasn’t really said anything about it either. We did our interview and that was it. He never says anything about it, he just does whatever he does in that little office we gave him. Shouldn’t he be grieving? At least in some way?”

“Derek, if you’re that worried, why don’t you go ask him?”

Derek sighed and sat on the couch. He thought for a second, and then came up with a plan. He left the office in a hurry, heading towards Spencer’s office.

“Hey, Spencer, can I come in?” Derek said, knocking on the doorframe.

“Yeah, sure,” Spencer opened the door and sat on the couch, moving his pillow so Derek could sit beside him.

“So, there haven’t been any new developments in your case in the past week, I’m sure you know that, but I just wanted to let you know that if your case doesn’t have any more activity in the next two weeks we might have to close the case. It doesn’t mean that we’ve stopped caring about you, it doesn’t mean we’ve stopped thinking about it, okay?”

“O-Okay, t-thank you, Derek, I really appreciate that,” Spencer said, fidgeting with his hands.

“That being said, I know that this has been really tough on you. You lost a really good friend. I was wondering, you know, you can’t leave the building without an agent, would you be comfortable with me taking you out to see this city? I mean, how long have you lived here and how many different stores have you been to?”

Spencer thought for a minute before laughing and saying, “The only places I’ve been to are a laundromat and a bakery, and then the place I got my ballet shoes once.”

Derek puts a hand on his knee and says, “Well, Spence, this city is about to rock your world. Change out of those pajamas and then we’ll go.”

Derek left the office with a new sense of pride in his heart. He sat at his desk until Spencer left the office, dressed in worn-out leather boots, black tights, a dark green plaid skirt, and a brown knit sweater. Spencer pulled at a string in the sleeve as his eyes traveled around the bullpen, looking for Derek’s desk. His eyes brightened and their lips creased as they smiled and made eye contact with him.

“Hey there, pretty boy, you ready to go?” Derek walked past him, Spencer followed behind as they moved towards the elevator.

“Y-yeah, do you think we could stop by my apartment? I forgot to put a few things on my list and I-I’m assuming it’d be okay s-since you’re an agent and-”

“Hey, don’t worry about it Spencer, of course we can stop by,” Derek cut him off with a gentle voice.

“T-Thank you, Derek.”

The two walked out to Derek’s red Ford Taurus and got in.

“Sorry about the mess. I haven’t really had time between cases to get it detailed,” Derek said, taking a bag from the passenger seat and moving it to the back.

“It’s fine, nicer than Camille’s. She really was a complete slob now that I think about it,” Spencer smiled, a bittersweet gleam in his eye.

Derek started up the car and they began the drive to Spencer’s apartment. Spencer watched the rain pour down the window and enjoyed the way the street lights blurred through the glass. He gazed at all of the shops and buildings until they arrived at the apartment building.

Both of them got out of the car and walked up the steps to the apartment. Spencer walked in, leaving the door open for Derek. His couch was still pushed back towards the counter from the last time he practiced ballet in the living room. He pushed it back to its regular place and went into the kitchen. They grabbed their favorite mug from the cupboard and placed it in the backpack he brought before walking into his bedroom. Derek followed and stood in the doorway.

His closet had been opened and a blanket was thrown onto the ground. He looked through the closet and pulled out their pointe shoes.

“You don’t have to just watch me, you can come in,” Spencer said, glancing at Derek.

Derek walked into the bedroom, looking over the sci-fi movie posters pinned to the wall. Spencer opened the drawer of a dresser and pulled out a couple pairs of knee-high socks. Derek looked over to a desk in the corner. He runs a hand over the wooden surface, admiring the finish. A blue box sat in the corner.

“What’s in here?” Derek said, picking up the box and opening it, revealing a stack of photos.

“O-Oh, that’s uh, I did some modeling i-in college for some extra money, n-nothing amazing.” Spencer stammered as he walked into the bathroom, crouching down to the cabinets.

“You sure these are just nothing? These photos look amazing,” Derek said, now standing in the doorway of the bathroom and holding up a black and white picture of a younger Spencer kissing another model. Spencer blushed bright red.

“Y-Yeah, they’re not all that much,” Spencer lied through his teeth as they finished quickly shoving three lipgloss tubes into his backpack.

They walked out of the bathroom, pushing against Derek and taking the box to put in his backpack. He zipped it back up and pulled the straps on his shoulders. They stood in the doorway of the bedroom, looking over everything to make sure he wasn’t forgetting anything again.

“Okay, I’m ready to go.”

The two left the apartment and as they walked down the stairs, Spencer in front, Derek admired the way his hair bounced and gleamed in the light. It was raining harder now and Derek saw Spencer start to pull at the loose sweater string again.

“Hey, it’s okay, I got an umbrella,” He said, pulling an umbrella out of the inside of his leather jacket.

Derek opened the umbrella and pulled Spencer closer so they could both be sheltered under the rain. He could smell the detergent in his clothes and the light caramel-like scent of the coffee he drank that morning. Derek smelled of gunpowder and men’s deodorant, something oddly comforting to the other. They both leaned towards each other before Derek quickly walked them to the car. Spencer giggled a little as they straightened out his skirt and Derek started up the car again.

“So, where did you plan for us to go?”

“Well, I was planning on taking you out to this farmer’s market today,” Derek said, “but since it’s raining and doesn’t look like it’ll stop soon and it’s almost around lunch, would you like to go to a cafe? There’s a library nearby, we could go there afterward.”

“That sounds like fun, thank you, Derek.”

“No problem, pretty boy. I’m paying.”

Derek turned onto a street corner and after driving straight for a few minutes he parked the car outside of a bakery. A light-up sign in the window said ‘Willow’s Eatery.’ Derek held the door open for Spencer and they walked in, Spencer took in the soft instrumental music playing, the yellow lights hanging from the ceiling, and the concrete flooring covered in many rugs and blankets.

“Wow, it’s really nice in here, Derek, are you sure you want to pay?” Spencer said.

“Yeah, I’m friends with the head baker, so I get discounts on a lot of things. Where would you like to sit?” Derek said and Spencer realized there was no one else in the bakery besides a cashier.

The two walked over to a table in the corner and sat in the cushioned seats. Derek ordered a tea and sandwiches for the both of them. They both talked about their lives, Derek described his childhood living in the Morgan Family household whale Spencer described all of the things he and Camille did. As Derek spoke his voice was sweet, much like the honey in the tea a mother would give a child to heal a sore throat. While Spencer’s was much the same, there was a taste of uncomfortable bitterness here and there. A sadness creeped in and out of their eyes when it felt the need to.

No one disturbed them as they talked. No one even came into the cafe, it was like they were the only two people in the world, laughing and smiling their hearts out.

When they finished their meal Derek paid in cash and they walked over to the library just a couple buildings away. Derek pulled Spencer under his umbrella again as they walked. The library was a brick building, covered in well-groomed moss. Inside, wood panelling covered the walls and blue carpet sat under their feet. A birchwood desk sat not far from the entrance and exit, where an old woman sat counting and cataloguing returned books. Spencer nervously stepped toward her.

“Hi, um, do I have to have a library card to check out books?” they asked.

“Well, technically you don’t. I could sign you into our system as a guest if you’d like, but getting a card will be a very quick process! What’s your name sweetheart?” The woman said.

“Spencer Reid,” he said, looking over to Derek for a second and then back to the woman, who’s name tag said Mary Lee, “I’ll just sign in as a guest for now, but your library looks fantastic and I’m sure I’ll be back.”

“Why, thank you, Mr. Reid, help yourself to anything you’d like.” Mary Lee smiled.

Spencer whispered a thank you before he walked towards a shelf filled with sci-fi novels, Derek following behind.

Each book Spencer picked out he felt the weight of before running a hand across the cover. They wanted each book to be comfortable in his lap when he read it. After deeming one perfect, they skimmed through the entire first chapter to see if the story had any appeal. By the time they had walked to the end of the shelf Spencer had picked three books. Derek offered to hold them, but Spencer declined until he got to the psychology section of the shelves and was holding nearly six books.

They checked out the books, Mary Lee reminding them to return them in a week, and walked out to the car.

“Hey, can I pick a place to go now?” Spencer asked as he settled into the passenger seat.

“Sure, pretty boy, but I can’t imagine any other place to go while it’s raining,” Derek said as he put the key in the ignition.

“Okay, I’m pretty sure it’s just two lefts and then you go straight for some time, and then a right.”

Derek followed the directions he was given and he parked on the side of the road, an empty lot of grass just outside.

“Are you sure this is the place Spencer?”

“Absolutely,” Spencer got out of his side of the car and ran into the rain.

Spencer danced and spun around, not caring about the puddle they were stepping in or the rain dripping from his hair.

“Cmon, what are you doing? Come out here with me!” Spencer said as Derek rolled down his window.

“Spencer, you’re gonna get sick! You don’t have a raincoat on!”

“Will you at least watch me?”

“Fine, but I’m bringing my umbrella,” Derek said, getting out of his side of the car.

Derek stood to the side as Spencer danced in the rain, spinning around and swinging his hips. He fell a lot, giggling as he stood back up each time. Derek loved seeing his smile and hearing the sound of his laugh was something that could only be described as enchanting.

“Camille and I used to come here all the time for picnics, and we’ve danced together just like this!” Spencer yelled over the now pouring rain.

Thunder began to crash in the sky.

“Alright, Spencer, this has been fun, but I think we need to go now!” Derek said, reaching an arm out to him.

“Aw, okay,” Spencer sighed, taking Derek’s extended hand.

In one swift motion Spender pulled Derek so hard he dropped the umbrella and the two started to dance together. Spencer led the two, smiling brightly even in the cloudy skies. Though Derek wouldn’t admit it, in this moment he was having fun. He was enjoying getting soaked in the cool, wet drops of rain that his mother so desperately warned him of. Eventually, Spencer stepped back into a puddle and slipped to the ground, taking Derek with him. They both smiled and laughed as more thunder made itself known.

The moment was interrupted by Derek’s cell ringing in his pocket. He took it and held it up to his ear.

“Hotch, what’s going on?”

“I’m still out with Spencer, why?”

“What do you mean there’s a new body?”

TAGLIST: @heavenlydevil @hotpotatowoman @party-poisxn @endingsbeginnings @d3pr3ss3d-w33d-wh0re @marko-fanclub @moss0ntherocks @scandinavian-punk @doctorenby @penemily @izzyl13 @leomo0n @tiedyedrose1705

#moreid #pluto writes #beating the dead swan #moreid fanfiction #spencer reid x derek morg #spencer reid #derek morgan #penelope garcia #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #fanfiction #moreid fic #derek morgan x spencer reid #userpenemily #useryoshi

31 notes · View notes

tanyawritesstories · 4 years ago

Text

Frozen Hopes | The Mandalorian x Reader

This is part 3 of the Frozen Series I have going. At the current point of me publishing this chapter, I'm almost done writing the entire series. I hope y'all are enjoying so far. If you think it's boring right now, trust me, it picks up 😉 enjoy!!

Series Masterlist

Word count: 3.9K

Warnings: fluff, feelings 😱, Din's unique way of parenting, more fluff, the kids are adorable

•••

He had never seen anyone in such awe just from the lights of hyperspace. (Y/N) was still in the cockpit, holding Mandi, and it appeared she hadn't taken her eyes off the viewports since he went down into the hull to look for something. "Don't get dizzy," he said, startling her.

It's been so long since I was in hyperspace. I forgot how hypnotizing it was.

Din hummed and took his seat in front of the controls. "It can be nice sometimes," he mused. They sat in silence for a bit, both just gazing out as millions of stars whizzed by. A hand was placed on his arm and he looked over his shoulder to see her standing with Mandi, awake and looking around, in her arm. She signed that she was going to get some rest and he nodded. “Do you want me to take her?” Y/N thought for a second and nodded, passing Mandi to him. Din had given Y/N permission to touch or tap him if she needed his attention to tell him something, since she couldn't use her voice.

Mandi had just woken up from a nap and was not going back to sleep anytime soon. It was up to him to keep her entertained. Luckily, Y/N had left a couple toys on her seat, Din reached back and grabbed one. It was a badly designed version of a Tooka cat, even if it didn’t look the greatest, he could tell she made it with love. He dangled it above her and wiggled it, a big smile came to Mandi’s face and she reached her little arms up for it. Din tickled her face with it before letting her have it. She put the toy in a small death grip, taking a hold of his finger along with.

He smiled, tickling her chin affectionately with his other hand. Mandi let go of the toy and instead held onto Din’s leather-clad finger. He let her pull his finger towards her mouth. “Why do you like my fingers so much?” He wondered aloud. He pulled his finger away from her, causing her to whine until he replaced it with a toy. “If you want to suck on something, suck on your own fingers."

All of a sudden the Razor Crest was jolted out of hyperspace and was floating slowly through space. Din sighed. Totally not worth the 1,000 credits. He cradled Mandi in his arms while he got out of his seat. He took a small panel off the wall behind the ladder and, when shining his light, could see wires smoking at the very back of the small space.

“Y/N!” He called. He heard her footsteps on the hull and looked down to his right, seeing her at the bottom of the ladder. “Could you bring the kid up here please?” She nodded and scurried away, coming back with the kid in her arms, cooing and inquisitive. “Come up here, I need your help too,” he said. She clumsily made her way up the ladder. “Ok you take her,” Din swapped Mandi for his little womp rat, “I need his help with this.”

He instructed her on what switches and buttons to press and when as his little one clambered into the hole. Y/N watched with a questioning gaze as Din attempted to instruct his son on how to fix the electrical problem. After watching with an amused expression, she turned the pilot’s chair around to face the controls in order to do some troubleshooting of her own. Her concern spiked when she heard and smelled wires burning. She whipped the chair around and saw smoke billowing out of the hole. Din sighed and she knelt down next to him, clunking her head against his helmet as she looked into the hole to make sure that the child was ok.

The little green kiddo coughed once and looked back at both of them, appearing to be just a little shook up. “You okay?” Din asked, the child whining adorably in response. Y/N sighed in relief, her shoulders sagging as she let the tension seep out of her muscles. She and Din turned to look at each other, only now realizing that they were only inches apart.

Din sucked in a breath as he took in the details of her face. She smiled warmly at him, unbothered by how close they were. There was something so intimate about being this close to one another, even though he had his helmet on. The way she looked at him made him feel like she could see into the deepest parts of his soul, like she could see him through the helmet. There was no judgement or rejection in her eyes, only welcoming love and peace. He wanted to beg her to share it with him, to reach into her soul and take out some of the light and innocence and fill himself with it.

She lifted her hand up, just holding it there for a moment before slowly reaching towards him. Towards his helmet. He didn’t stop her, he didn’t want to. Why did he feel like this? Her fingertips grazed the beskar where his cheek would be, simply feeling the metal against her skin. Her smile widened and she drew her hand away. She was merely curious. It brought back memories, one specifically from his time on Sorgan. Omera. He remembered her, how she had wanted him to stay and tried to remove his helmet. He hadn’t let her, he’d wanted to at the time, but at the last minute he stopped her. He was scared then, evidently he still was now. He knew he couldn’t stay with Omera then because of the kid, and he would’ve had to stay put.

With Y/N, she was going with him and would be for quite some time. He couldn’t escape his feelings this time, or find some way to run from them. Mandi had already captured his heart and now Y/N was too. It was dangerous and Din didn’t like the feeling of not being in control. He shook his head slightly, as if it would expel the emotions he was experiencing. The kid had crawled back to the opening and Din picked him up. “Can you pilot? I’m going down to get some food for me and him,” Din said quietly. She nodded with a smile, standing and taking her seat in the pilot’s chair. He stood and stared at the back of the chair, sighing and making his way down into the hull.

~~~~

“At least this landing was better than the previous two,” Din mused as he leaned against the back of the pilot’s chair. They had finally set down on Navarro. Just from here Din could see how much the city had changed. The market seemed bustling again and all the structures had been rebuilt, it was as if nothing had ever happened. “Let’s go,” he said. Din helped Y/N get Mandi into her chest wrap carrier and he held his child under his arm. Din pressed the ramp release button and it started opening, only to get stuck halfway and refuse to go down any further. He heard her chuckle behind him. And he walked forward, jumping off the end of the jammed ramp to be greeted by Greef Karga and Cara Dune.

“Looks like someone could use some repairs,” Karga remarked. Din greeted his friend with a solid handshake and otherwise silent friendly acknowledgement. Y/N hung back in the shadows at the opening of the ship while Din talked with his friends. She watched as the man and woman both greeted the child as well as his father, they must love the little one too. The thought made her smile, at least this Mandalorian had friends and he wasn’t alone. She found herself suddenly wondering why she cared so much, but it seemed as if she had cared the moment she saw him and his little one. When she first saw him walking into the cantina on Mos Eisley with a dozen and one items strung onto the arm of a speeder bike that he carried on his back.

She watched as the older man called to a couple of mechanics near the city gate before fondly plucking the child from Mando’s grip and talking to him. She smiled and giggled, finding the man’s treatment of the child alike to that of a fun loving uncle. Apparently her presence hadn’t gone completely unnoticed as the man quirked an eyebrow in her direction. “And who might you be?” He asked loud enough for her to hear. She shrunk down a bit, shy. Din turned around and saw Y/N standing in the shadows. “It’s alright, you can come out,” he gently encouraged. She walked to the end of the ramp and sat down, Din reached up and grabbed her legs. She scooted off the edge and into Din’s arms, letting him set her feet on the ground gently.

He put an arm around her back and led her towards Greef and Cara. “This is Y/N,” he introduced. She smiled and waved at them. “Hello, young lady. You been keeping Mando company on his trips?” Karga teased. Y/N smirked and signed ‘a little bit’, Greef looked confused for a second. “She’s mute,” Din explained. Greef nodded in understanding and motioned towards the town. “Come on, I've got a few things to show you,” he said. Before they went anywhere he noticed Mandi, awake and squirming in her carrier. “You’ve got another little one. One wasn’t enough, huh Mando?” He joked. Din tensed a bit but saw how relaxed and happy Y/N looked. Greef turned and started walking into town with Y/N right beside him while Din and Cara trailed a few feet behind.

Cara shot him a knowing glance as they started walking, Din could hear Karga cooing over both children from a few feet in front of them. “Clearly a lot has changed since we last saw you,” Cara said, “a woman, another kid, never pegged you for the family man type.” Din blushed under his helmet, he hadn’t expected people to assume that Mandi was his and Y/N’s child. He was embarrassed but at the same time there was a spark of pride. That he had a woman and two children to protect and care for, it made him feel special. He cursed himself for thinking such things and drove the thought from his mind. “Mandi isn’t mine,” he said. Cara gave him a confused look. “It’s a long story.”

They continued to talk about the bustling town and what improvements had been made to it, how his ship was damaged, and the state of the outer rim. Karga brought them to a stop outside of the old cantina that had been nearly demolished the last time he saw it. They all went inside and Din was pleasantly surprised by what he saw. “A school?” Cara smiled proudly. “Things have changed a lot around here,” she said. Din saw Y/N standing between his friends looking around in awe. “We’re gonna leave the little one here so we can talk business,” Greef said. “Wait, wherever I go, he goes,” Din insisted. Y/N crossed in front of Cara and put her hand on Din’s pauldron. She began signing to him.

I will stay here and keep eyes on both the kids. You go take care of whatever you need to.

Din sighed nervously but he trusted her, her kind smile relaxed him. She gently squeezed his arm reassuringly as Greef set his little one down at one of the desks. Y/N sat down on the stairs at the back of the room and observed the setting before her, taking Mandi out of her wrap and holding her against her chest. “C’mon,” Greef ushered as he and Cara exited. Din lingered for a moment, looking at his child and then at Y/N and Mandi before finally following his friends.

“Seems a lot has changed for you, Mando,” Greef remarked as they walked to his office, “you’ve got yourself a wife and child now, can’t say I expected that from you.” Din blushed again, worse than last time. Thank the Maker for this helmet. He sighed, “she’s not my wife, and Mandi isn’t my baby.” Greef too looked confused and Din figured he had to clear things up. “I hired her to help take care of the kid. She’s also a mechanic and a pilot,” he explained. “Ah, well here we are,” Greef said as they entered his office building. Whatever they needed his help with Din hoped it wouldn’t take long.

~~~~

The mission they needed his help for was much bigger than he thought, which he should’ve seen coming. First they discovered there were more troops than they thought, then it was the fact that the base was fully functional, issues just kept piling on top of each other. They had gotten the main object of the mission over with, that was the easy part, now they had to get out alive. Then they found the room.

At first Din had no idea what he was looking at. What looked like some sort of freakish, alien experiments were encased in tanks with a mysterious blue fluid. It looked like the Imperials were trying to create something, some kind of monster. Din didn’t like it, it made him feel uneasy and he couldn’t shake the feeling that they, as well as Y/N and the children, were in danger.

Listening to that hologram made his blood run cold. For the small amount of time that the Imperials had the child, Maker knows what they might have done. It sounded like they had used his blood to create the horrifying creatures in the tanks, but that couldn’t be, could it? The hologram ended and Din could’ve swore his heart skipped a beat. He didn’t want to believe it. No, Gideon couldn’t be alive, the hologram must be old and it was just sent again recently or it was a duplicate or faked. Even with all the excuses Din tried to come up with for his own mind to believe, deep down he knew it was true. The child was still in grave danger, so was he, and now so was Y/N and Mandi.

He needed to get back to them, they didn’t know they were in danger. He couldn’t let anything happen to them.

~~~~

Y/N sat on the stairs watching the children learn and making sure the child was behaving himself. She had stayed there for a while after Mando had left, she knew it was safe and left for a little bit to buy a few things. She had used up the last of her own money buying food, water, a few tools, and a new set of bottles for Mandi, since her last ones were left on Nexlar. Fortunately, the prices on Navarro were much lower than on Nexlar and after getting the essentials she had enough credits leftover to purchase a small blaster for herself. It wasn’t anything special, a simple DT-22 pistol that happened to have a detachable ascension cable with it.

She was happy with her purchases and everything was in the shoulder bag she had on. She played with Mandi, trying not to make too much noise and distract the other kids from their school work. Everything was going well until Mando burst through the door. She immediately stood and held Mandi close to her, his urgency concerned her. “Are you alright?” He asked. She nodded. “Where’s the kid?” She pointed to the desk where he was still sitting and eating the cookies he stole, content with his mischief.

“We need to go,” Din said. He marched over and scooped the kid and his snacks up into his arms. Y/N tucked Mandi back into her carrier and made sure she had everything she bought.

What’s going on?

“We could be in danger, we’re all getting back to the Crest. Now,” his voice was stern and she knew this was serious. Din tucked the child into his arm, the other he put around Y/N and led her through the city back to the Crest. The two mechanics had just finished with the repairs as the pair walked up the ramp, Y/N pressing the button to close it behind her. Din placed his child in her arms as he climbed up into the cockpit. “I need you all up here and buckled in, this could take some fancy flying,” he called out. Y/N was able to climb the ladder with Mandi strapped to her chest and the other in one arm. She strapped his son into one of the passenger seats before buckling herself into the other one.

Din powered up the ship, it started as good as new. They lifted off and the sound of TIE fighters could be heard getting louder. Y/N clutched Mandi to her chest as Din flew faster. He saw three fighters after the vehicle that he assumed held the rest of his comrades and took off after them, singling out the middle one and shooting it down with precise accuracy. The other two split off in separate directions and he chased the one on the right, ascending straight up after it. They were all forced firmly back in their seats as the Crest climbed higher and higher. The Razor Crest was faster than the TIE fighter and easily caught up, putting it directly in Din’s line of fire. He pulled the trigger and the fighter exploded with a few shots.

He maneuvered around the shrapnel and spun the Crest around, stilling it in the air with its front facing the ground. He saw the last TIE fighter heading straight for him, he flung the power lever forwards and the ship dove right for the oncoming ship. He turned both handles sharply left, sending the ship spinning into several rolls. He could hear the kid giggling from over his shoulder. While Y/N had Mandi held tight to her chest, covering her eyes while she held her own shut. Even with the Crest locked onto, the Imperial pilot still couldn’t hit them. Din pulled the trigger again, hitting his target with only a few missed shots.

The Crest descended from the clouds, victorious. Din slowly let the tension seep from his muscles and he looked over his left shoulder, Y/N had opened her eyes and was now breathing normally again, a relieved smile on her face. “Not bad, huh?” He smiled under his helmet. She chuckled and shook her head, just glad it was over. Din looked over his other shoulder to see his own child. “Right, kid?” His little one looked more green than usual and before Din could figure out why, the child vomited up the blue remains of the cookies he had been eating. “Oh boy..”

Y/N noticed and rummaged about in her pockets for something to clean him up with. Meanwhile Din opened his frequency and Karga’s voice came over his comm system, applauding his flying techniques. Y/N hadn’t found the spare cloth she kept on her to clean Mandi up and before she could do anything else, Din was reaching back and cleaning the kid up with the bottom of his cloak. She looked at him in mild disbelief while he cleaned the kid, and his clothes, off while talking to Karga and flying all at once. He refused Greef’s offer and knew he had to continue on to Corvus without stopping, or else the Imperials might catch up.

As soon as they were steady in space, Y/N unbuckled herself and the kid, inspecting his soiled clothing. She shook her head affectionately and held him on her hip, also noticing the damp and slightly blue stain on the bottom of Mando’s cloak. She smiled, she’d have to clean up both of the boys. She tapped Mando on his arm.

I’m going to get him cleaned up.

“Thank you,” he said. “I’ll be down in a few minutes.” Y/N climbed down, setting his child on the floor for a moment while she got Mandi situated. She placed her safely on a blanket on the floor, surrounded by a few toys so she wouldn’t get bored while her mother was taking care of the other child. Y/N got some water in a small cup and sat down near Mandi, putting the other kid comfortably in her lap and letting him drink the water to get rid of the undoubtedly nasty taste in his mouth. She grabbed a clean cloth and applied a small amount of cleaning solution to it, getting to work on cleaning the spot on his little coat.

Din set the course for Corvus and climbed down into the hull, seeing Y/N cleaning his son’s coat and face while Mandi wiggled happily on the blanket next to her. He walked over and sat on the other side of Mandi, sweeping his cloak out of the way so he didn’t sit on it. At one point his little one cooed and reached out towards her face, she nuzzled his forehead with her nose, smiling as the child giggled. He whined still and reached towards Mandi, Y/N picked up a toy Mandi wasn’t playing with and handed it to him. It kept him occupied while she finished cleaning his coat.

Din played with Mandi until Y/N set his little one down next to her. He waddled closer to Mandi and reached out to touch her arm. “Be gentle,” Din told him. The child looked up at his dad then back at Mandi, reaching for her again. To their surprise Mandi also reached out towards him, the children’s hands found each other and they awkwardly held hands. Din looked up at Y/N who also looked at him, an amazed look on her face. Mandi seemed to calm down and his little one cooed at her.

What are they doing?

“I don’t know,” Din answered. “Maybe they know they have the same powers.” It had sounded better in his head, when he said it out loud it sounded ridiculous. She nodded, considering the possibility. Din leaned over them, playing with them both with the toys laying around. Mandi whined and her little face scrunched up, Din picked her up and held her, trying to figure out what was wrong. He felt a tap on his elbow.

She’s probably tired, been awake all day.

Din nodded and noticed that Y/N had the end of his cloak in her hand and was cleaning it the same way she had done with the child’s clothes. “What are you doing?” She looked up with an amused expression.

Cleaning your cloak, what does it look like?

She smiled and giggled, clearly joking with him. “It’s always dirty, you don’t have to clean it,” he told her. She shrugged and continued.

I want to.

Was her reply. Din found it strange almost, why would she want to clean his cloak all of a sudden? Unless it was that she enjoyed looking after people and she simply wanted to take care of him too. It didn’t matter, Din sat and watched the kids until she was done cleaning the spot off his cloak. “I’ll pilot first while you rest, then we switch?” He suggested. She nodded and took the kids to get them situated. Din climbed into the cockpit and engaged the hyperdrive. Heading off towards Corvus and their next adventure.

#star wars #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin #din djarin x reader #frozen series #star wars fanfiction

47 notes · View notes

aquaticalay · 5 years ago

Text

F.R.I.D.A.Y. I'm in Love (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Summary: While singing 'Friday, I'm in love' by The Cure in the kitchen to yourself, a certain AI thinks you're talking to her. She tells you something you didn't know, and decides to play matchmaker on Christmas morning, because why not?

Genre: christmas fluff :)

Word count: 2.5k

Song: Friday, I'm in Love by The Cure

Note: Merry Xmas! This is my last fic before vacation! This is also my first one shot in a while. Hope you like it!!

You were the first one awake at the compound, but that wasn't anything out of the usual. You always wake up at least half an hour earlier than anybody else in the compound without fail, every single day. It was simply an old habit you can't seem to get rid of, no matter how tired you were or how late you slept the night before.

The only thing that made a difference was that it's the day before christmas. Since you and Bucky were the only people with no family to celebrate it with, the two of you stayed behind to keep an eye on the compound. You had somehow convinced Bucky to agree on helping you set up decorations today. Besides, you also need help setting up the realistic-looking artificial pine tree at the corner of the common room. You already had a vision: green, white, and red ribbons filling up the ceiling and fairy lights as far as the eye can see.

But that was your plan for later in the afternoon. Right now, the sun had just barely began to rise.

You made your way to the kitchen, thinking of making pancakes for breakfast. You hummed a tune as you opened the cupboards for a pan and ingredients. You eyeballed the flour and sugar, sifted them in a bowl and went to the fridge to get the rest of the contents needed.

Lost in your own world, the tunes you hummed turned into cohesive words, an actual song that you had been listening to lately and can't seem to get out of your head.

"I don't care if Monday's blue," you sang, cracking the eggs, making sure the shell stayed out of the batter, "Tuesday's gray and Wednesday too."

You poured the milk and butter, "Thursday, I don't care about you," you grabbed a whisk and pretended it was a microphone, "It's Friday, I'm in love."

"May I guess with who?" FRIDAY quipped suddenly.

You yelped in shock and dropped the whisk into the batter, some of it splattering to your shirt and face. Just a little, but enough to piss you off.

"What?" You asked, slightly annoyed.

"You told me you were in love," you heard the AI say through the built in speakers of the room, "may I guess with who?".

You let out a lighthearted laugh, "First of all, it's just a song," you rolled your eyes with a smile, amused by the misunderstanding of the supposedly smart AI. "Secondly," you continued, "I am not in love with anybody at the moment."

FRIDAY then said, in a matter-of-factly manner, "But you are."

Furrowing your eyebrows, annoyed, you stubbornly told her, "No, I'm not."

"You are," the AI insisted, and before you can deny it once again, she told you, "You show all physical and hormonal signs of being in love— increased levels of dopamine, adrenaline, and norepinephrine, increased heart rate, and dilated pupils— in the presence of Sergeant James Barnes."

Your mind stopped just enough to catch up with what FRIDAY. was telling you.

"What?" You asked, flustered, as blood rushed to your cheeks, "No!"

"It's true," said the AI calmly, then displayed a panel of hologram on the island kitchen, usually used for mission briefings— your vitals, including your hormone levels. "These are your average body scans whenever you are in the same room as Sergeant Barnes," she said.

"That's enough, Friday!" you exclaimed, almost squeaking, embarrassed. She then took down the hologram, to your relief.

You admit, you have always been fond of Bucky, and dare you say, quite attached to him, but it never occurred to you that you loved him, mostly because everytime you even thought of the four-letter terrifying word, you pushed it to the deepest, darkest corner of your mind, lock it in a glass box and throw away the key, never to be seen again. The subject of love terrifies you, though the thought of being romantically involved with Bucky did give you a certain feeling of satisfaction and comfort, and maybe, just maybe, hope of it being able to work out.

Oops, there's the thought again.

Time to bury it six feet underground.

"In case you're curious, Sergeant Barnes also—" the AI started, but you shushed her furiously, "Fri, I don't want to hear it."

"But—" she began, but you cut her off again, "Please don't."

Sensing your discomfort, she stopped saying whatever she was about to say.

You continued to make your pancakes in peace, if there was ever any.

You hummed the tune of the same song, careful not to say the actual words to it. You turned on the stove an put a frying pan on it measuring your batter out for an even and fluffy pancake.

The automatic door opened, and Bucky entered the room, yawning. He was wearing a grey shirt and shorts. As he smelled the sweet aroma of the batter cooking, his gaze turned to you.

"Mornin' doll," he smiled lazily, greeting you. He seemed to be in an especially good mood today. Ever since you joined almost a year ago, he had given you the nickname, and you adapted to it quickly.

"Morning, Buck," you hummed, flipping the pancakes. Bucky walked towards you and took in the smell exaggeratingly. "Hope you made some for me."

You chuckled, "Of course."

You stacked the first three pancakes on an empty plate and handed it to Bucky, who gave you a chaste kiss on the side of your head.

This type of casual affection has been going on for a while now, a little over five months. He'd kiss you on the cheeks or forehead whenever he said thank you, hello, or goodbye. You'd also cuddle against him on movie nights and lean on his shoulder while sitting on the dinner table, but neither of you ever spoke about it. You never wanted to think much about these flirtatious exchanges. You assumed this was just who he was, and you were just playing his game. He was a ladies' man in the 40s, after all, and you were just all-all round playful person.

You stacked your own pancakes and turned off the stove.

You sat next to Bucky on the couch, who was currently pouring a shit ton of maple syrup on his pancakes, squeezing the bottle with his metal arm.

You chuckled at his behaviour, and he raised his eyebrows at you.

"What are you laughing at?" He tried to pretend to be serious, but he can't help but show a hint of a grin on his adorable face.

"Nothing," you shook your head playfully and started eating the sugar-filled breakfast.

Deciding it was too quiet, Bucky decided to ask FRIDAY a favor. "Friday," Bucky called, "play some music, please."

FRIDAY complied almost immediately, and the tune of the song she played was too familiar.

Your cheeks turned bright red in a matter of seconds. Why would she play that?

"I don't care if Monday's blue

Tuesday's grey and Wednesday, too

Thursday I don't care about you

It's Friday, I'm in love"

Bucky stuffed pancakes in his mouth as he listened to the song, "I've never heard this song before," he mentioned, his head moving subtly to the tempo of the song, "It's nice."

"Uh, yeah," you managed to nervously blurt out.

Bucky turned his head to you, "You cold, doll?" He asked, concern in his voice.

"No, why?"

"You're red," he pointed out worriedly, "Are you sure you're not sick?"

"No, I'm just—" you started, trying to find an excuse, but nothing comes to mind. You couldn't tell him you're embarrassed, and you already told him you weren't cold, "—I don't know."

As the song continued playing, Bucky placed the back of his hand on your forehead to check for a fever, but he was met with a normal, cool skin. He tried not to think too much about it. He shrugged and told you, "Just let me know if you feel unwell, okay? I know where Scott keeps his emergency cold medicine."

You managed a nod, and tried to distract yourself by eating your pancakes.

You started to feel relief wash over you as the song came to an end, but when it did end, it started to play again, as if FRIDAY had it on loop.

"Weird," Bucky quipped.

"Yeah, weird," you said, a little quieter than usual, "Friday, please play another song," you said, but Bucky cut you off, "No, I want to listen to it again," he said, "One more time? I really like it."

You sunk into your seat, having forced to suffer through this song again.

That afternoon, Bucky helped you set up the ribbons and lights, and now he was helping you with the tree ornaments.

The time you spent together were spent in laughter and joy, playfully teasing each other. He told you a lot about his old family traditions, how his little sister Rebecca and him would use their spare money to get their mother a gift every year. In return, you made him hot chocolate, made from your grandma's special recipe.

"Bucky," you called, "give me a boost so I can get the star on top of the tree."

You showed him the star. It was brilliant red. He chuckled to himself, wondering if you intentionally got it to match his old logo.

Without warning, he grabbed your waist, and spun you around playfully. You yelped in shock, steadying yourself by putting a hand on his shoulder. You laughed a little, "The tree, Buck," you reminded him, and he chuckled, rolling his eyes. "okay, okay."

You placed the star on top, and he set you down gently. You were facing him, and for a split second, you nose touched his and you were looking straight into his icy orbs.

You looked away, pretending it didn't happen.

"Help me with the ribbons," you quipped. Bucky grabbed the box full of colorful decorations. "Okay," he replied. You weren't sure, but you could've sworn he sounded a little bit disappointed.

The rest of the afternoon was spent decorating the tree, and it was all fun and games until Bucky started humming 'Friday, I'm in love,' under his breath, a song that seems to be stuck in his head.

You and Bucky fell asleep on the couch after a Christmas movie marathon. You woke up in the same position you fell asleep: cuddled up against Bucky, you head on his shoulder and his human arm wrapped contently around your waist. You adjusted your eyes to the light coming in from the big glass windows, and tugged on Bucky's side, "wake up."

He groaned a little, his eyes blinking to life.

"Merry Christmas," you smiled, still leaning your head on his shoulder, too lazy to get up.

"Merry Christmas, doll," he replied, a sleepy but sincere smile on his face.

You mustered enough energy to look at the Christmas tree, and was shocked to see one small red box under the tree, decorated with a fittingly small green bow. It was empty the last time you saw it.

"Did you–" you turned to Bucky, who nodded right away, "How?" You asked curiously.

"I slipped it there before we started the movie," he admitted, a slightly rosy color on his cheeks.

"Is that for me?" You asked, and he nodded.

"I- I've got a present for you in my room," you told him, half-way panicked that you've forgotten his present in your quarters.

Rushing out of the common room, Bucky watched you as a sigh left his lips.

He found himself humming the song he heard yesterday again. He took the present from under the tree to give it to you first hand, then walked to the island kitchen to get some water. He doesn't remember all the words, except the ones at the very end of the chorus.

He mumbled a string of noises, but lightly sang the last part in his best singing voice, "Friday, I'm in love."

"I know," Friday said through the speakers. It surprised Bucky, but he didn't show it. Sitting down on the bar stool of the island, Bucky asked, "What?"

"I know you're in love, Sergeant Barnes," the AI said.

Bucky let a heavy breath out. Friday was right. He was in love. With you. "How did you know?"

"Your physical and hormonal body scans when you're around Miss (Y/n)."

Bucky only chuckled dryly. It was nothing he didn't already know, "Too bad she doesn't feel the same, huh?"

"Actually—" the AI started, but suddenly stopped when you rushed back in the room, a heavy box decorated with a patterned white wrapper in your arms. It was huge compared to the gift he got you. You put on the marble countertop and climbed on the stool next to his.

"Here," you said excitedly, "open it!"

Your excitement was contagious. He gave you a hearty laugh and ripped the wrapping paper. When he was finished, he realized what it was. A record player.

"Wow, (Y/n)," he said, twinkle in his eyes. He raised it so he could see it better, "I- thank you."

"You've been telling me about how you used to listen to music," you told him, "So I got you a more modern one."

"Your turn," Bucky said, giving you your present.

It wasn't wrapped, it was just a red box with a bow. You opened it and you looked to him for explanation.

It was a necklace with a dark silver star pendant.

"It's beautiful," you sighed, admiring the jewelry, "Thank you."

He gently took the necklace in his fingers, and looped it behind your neck, hooking it so now you were wearing it.

"I asked Shuri to make it from the scrap vibranium used to make my metal arm," he told you, a warm and loving smile on his mouth, "So you can have a piece of me with you."

Suddenly, you wondered if FRIDAY was right about you being in love with him.

"Ahem," said a human-like voice from the ceiling. It was FRIDAY, calling so you would look up.

The two of you saw a holographic mistletoe from the projector above you.

Damn, FRIDAY.

You smiled. It was a good excuse to kiss him, right? Wasn't that the rules of the mistletoe?

You reached up a little to press a short but sweet kiss on his lips, catching him off-guard.

"I-" Bucky turned beet red, "can you do that again please?"

Pleasantly surprised, you nod as you let him caress your cheeks, and pull you in for a longer kiss, his lips moving against yours in sync, like you were pieces of a puzzle. You melted into his arms and laid a hand on his thigh for support.

"I love you," Bucky said as he pulled away. Wait, he thought to himself, I love you?!

He meant to say merry christmas!

In his mind, you only kissed him because of his mistletoe. He was seconds away from apologizing, but then a content sigh left your lips, "I love you, too," you admitted shyly

He looked at you with a loving look that has always been there, yet you've only noticed it now. His thumb stroke your cheek softly, the contrast of metal and flesh strangely comforting.

"What is it?" You asked.

He cracked a smile. "My dad used to spend christmas morning with my ma," he said, "She told me one day I'd find someone to spend it, too."

"Would she have approved of me?" You asked, curiosity laced im you silky voice.

"I swear to god she'd love you," he cupped both your cheek and pressed a kiss on the tip of your nose, "Merry Christmas, doll."

"Merry Christmas, James."

You made an internal note to self to thank FRIDAY later.

-end.

1K notes · View notes

starlightsearches · 4 years ago

Text

Scoundrel

So my inbox decided to delete every request that I had, but lucky for me I actually copied them all down this time! Here’s three requests that I’ve combined into one story, hope you all love it!

Anonymous asked: Lol you reblogged a head cannon from @historymiss about kylo and his “scoundrel” skills and it is just so funny to think about, I’d love to read a fic by you about it. Maybe reader is some type of smuggler being hunted down by the first order and they get away but not before they impress each other with shady skills?

Anonymous asked: Ooh! How about a prompt? “It’s a hobby of mine to prove you wrong” reader to kylo?

Anonymous asked: kylo x reader “is that blood?” “... no?”

Requests are closed ✨

Kylo Ren x Reader (no pronouns)

Warnings: some angst, language, mentions of sex pollen 😏, mild horniness, not a happy ending 🙁

There's no light at all in your hiding place, just the hard press of metal against your spine and the sound of your own breathing. You close your eyes, not that it changes the much, fill your lungs as quietly as you can manage and then hold your breath, listening closely to the sounds of footsteps as they move past you, the modulated mumbles of storm troopers as they head towards the exit of your ship. It's not easy to track their movements just by sound, but you don't think they found your stash, thank gods. If they all get off your fucking ship, you can be on your way in no time.

"Search completed, sir. No sign of the fugitives." You can just barely hear one of the troopers report to some silent supervisor, and your mind catches on the last word. Fugitives? Who were they looking for? Some people would pay a lot of credits for information like that. Despite its chaotic beginnings, today could still be a lucky one. You press your ear closer to the false wall that you hide behind, furrowing your brow in concentration.

"Complete searches of the rest of the ships, they’re here somewhere," there's a second voice now, and as soon as you hear it, ice floods your veins. You'd recognize that voice anywhere. Shit.

Your previous confidence in your hiding place leaves immediately, but you can't move, your sense of self-preservation still convinced that he might slip up this time. You're startled from that delusion almost immediately by a loud pounding sound, and then the panel covering your little shelter gives way to blinding light.

You land on your hands and knees with a loud smack, the impact driving spikes of pain through your bones. Someone—a trooper you assume—is on you immediately, yanking your hands behind your back. As soon as your eyes adjust, he's in your line of sight, filling your view with an expansive blackness.

"You again," he's crouched down beside you, the words almost quiet enough to be a whisper, and said with a kind of reverence that might only exist in your imagination. It's been a long time since you last saw Kylo Ren, but it feels like no time at all.

"We can't keep meeting like this, Commander," you reply, coating your words in a healthy level of sarcasm to hide any trembling that could break through, "People might think that you're in love with me."

He doesn't respond, because he never does, but he lifts his hand to your face, rubbing his thumb roughly against your cheek, the seam of his glove scraping against your skin. "Is that blood?" he asks in the same even tone, raising his hand to eye level; you can just barely make out the dark red smear against the black leather.

" ... No?" And then after a beat, "well, it's not mine." Nothing changes in the man before you, but you hear a modulated snicker from behind, and the trooper mutters an apology when Ren shoots him what you have to assume would be a glare if you could see the face behind his mask.

"Search them," Kylo Ren stands to his full height, and you follow close behind, yanked to your feet unceremoniously by the trooper. Some might find this situation humiliating, being cuffed and patted down on your own ship, but you're able to ignore it rather easily, choosing instead to keep your eyes trained on Ren. He returns your stare, his arms crossed tight over his broad chest, fingers flexing rhythmically against the swell of his biceps. No, being handled like this doesn't bother you at all, but you think it might bother him.

Your weapons are removed one by one, and it's a few minutes before the trooper is satisfied, attaching the cuffs to your wrists and giving you one final shove to signal the end of his search. "Should I take them back to the command shuttle?"

Ren stays silent, and your mind kicks in to lightspeed as you try to come up with a plan. If they got you off this ship, your chances of escape would diminish greatly. You'd need to stay aboard, but how? Fighting both of them wouldn't be an option, especially not weaponless. You'll have to make this up as you go and hope things play out in your favor.

"Leave the prisoner with me for interrogation," he says to the trooper, and you stifle a sigh of relief, "I'll need to search the ship again." You try to keep your emotions in check as you watch the trooper walk towards the exit, following him around the corner and out the door with your eyes. It's just you and Ren now. You could make this work.

He breaks the silence as soon as you're alone, plucking the thoughts right out of your head, "you're not going to escape."

"That's funny, I think you said that the last time we ran into each other," you keep your reply light, your tone laden with a healthy dose of mockery so he won't look any deeper. It's not easy to play tricks on a man with powers like his, which is why you've got to keep him distracted, uncomfortable. After all, this is your arena—he'll have to play by your rules.

He takes you by the shoulder, pushing you further into the ship with a shove that's probably meant to be harsh, but there's no heat behind it. "You can't get away from me," he says, more emphatically. His fingers press deeper into your shoulder, a heavy grip to emphasize his point, like that’s all it would take to keep you with him. He should really know better by now.

You shrug out of his grasp with a little twist, turning to face him in the small corridor, chest to chest, your bound arms sandwiched between you, your own reflection staring back at you through the eyes of his helmet. "I wouldn't count on it, Commander. It's become a hobby of mine to prove you wrong." Your voice is barely a whisper, the heat of your breath creating little clouds of fog on his mask—you're closer than most would dare to be. It's dangerous, the way you get in his space, dangerous how you challenge him, but gods, do you like it.

He chooses to ignore you again, refusing to take the bait, and instead continues his path down the hall, pulling you towards the cargo hold. It's mostly empty right now, with a few scattered transport bins littering the corners—just empty enough to fool any asshole who might try to poke their nose into your business.

"What are you hauling?" Ren asks, unconvinced by your sparse collection, searching the hold with slow, methodical movements.

"I don't know if you could tell, but I'm actually between jobs at the moment," you kick a crate of broken blasters to sell your lie, but it's clear he's not convinced as he walks the length of the hold, searching for any signs of hidden compartments. You take the chance to look around, as well, seeing if there’s anything that might aid your escape, or at least help you get the damn binders off. It’s a waste of time—there’s nothing in here for you, and even if there was, you wouldn’t be able to get to it without Ren noticing. You look back at him, just for a moment, checking to see if he’s distracted enough to ignore your scheming. By then it’s too late—you hear the sound of the panel lifting first, and it's only a second before he's opening the crate hidden beneath, too quick for the cry that rips from your chest but gets caught on the way out.

"Spice, really?" He reaches a gloved hand towards the container of the innocuous-looking yellow powder and your heart threatens to leap out of your throat, your feet moving towards him of their own accord.

"Don't touch that!" The words finally break free as you throw yourself at him—you don't really have a choice. The impact is hard, hard enough to upset his balance as he stumbles backward, catching you in his grasp, his hands gripping at your shoulders to steady you, too. You’re anchored in his arms, but your breathing is coming hard and fast, the adrenaline making home in your veins even if the danger has passed.

"Afraid I might contaminate your supply?" he whispers the question, the words coming low and mocking through the modulator in his helmet. He thinks it's his turn to get under your skin.

"That's not spice," you say, breathing hard, panic still coursing. "It's a highly potent kind of pollen used to, uh, stimulate arousal. Getting even the smallest amount of it on your skin or in your lungs can create an effect that lasts for weeks." He goes still against you, solid as stone, but you can feel his heartbeat running rampant through his body as he realizes the meaning of your words. Neither of you dare to move, afraid of worsening your already precarious situation, even though you’re well out of reach of the container. The tension has sucked all the air from the room and you stutter, trying to bring it back, "there's a king in the Kazyk sector who pays me good money to haul it for him."

"Is it contraband?" His gaze flits from you back to the powder, and then back again. Even though you can't see them, the pressure of his eyes weighs on you, bringing a heat to your cheeks.

"Depends on who you ask. It is expensive, highly coveted, and notoriously hard to transport. It can cause . . . complications when moved, if you're not careful."

"Complications?" You feel yourself flush, your entire body uncomfortably warm—the temperature control on your ship must be malfunctioning. It's only made worse by your proximity to Ren; you can feel his heat passing through the thick fabric he wears, smothering you.

"Do I need to spell it out for you, Commander?" You had wanted to mock him again, using his title like that, but the whisper that leaves your parted lips is absent of any ridicule, your words so soft and wanton that it sends a shiver up your own spine. You can't help but wonder if he's blushing under the mask—if his thoughts are currently consumed, like yours are, by images of bodies intertwined, heady moans passed between parted lips, his hands—ungloved—exploring every inch of you . . .

Your wrists tug against their restraints, unbidden. It's a good thing that you're still cuffed, because if they weren't, you're not sure what would stop you peeling back those layers he wears, taking off that stupid helmet, finally revealing his face. What would he look like, laid bare before you? What would it feel like to be encircled in his arms with nothing between you but desire?

You ball your fists, fingernails pressing crescents into your palms as you try to remove these thoughts from your mind, forcing yourself out of his grasp with a sharp tug, trying to breathe again. Gods, what is wrong with you? Some of the pollen must have gotten into the air and made its way into your system. You turn back, hoping to confirm your theory, but the little pile of yellow powder sits undisturbed, and the air in the cargo hold is heavy and still.

"Just put the lid back on it. I'm not hauling anything else," you command, and to your surprise, Ren obeys, replacing the cover on the container gently so as to not disturb the powder beneath. He grabs you again, by the arm this time so that he can keep his distance, thank gods, not that it helps you cool off—the heat stays trapped beneath your skin for much longer than you’d care to admit.

He takes you through the rest of the ship, stopping occasionally to open one of the many hidden storage compartments scattered throughout, cracking locks, breaking codes seemingly without even trying. He finds all of them—even the ones you made yourself, ones you were sure nobody would be able to locate without your help. It doesn't matter anyway; you were telling the truth before. You're not hauling anything else.

You lean against the wall, watching as he rips away the edge of another panel in the floor, finding it empty, and you roll your eyes. "Not to be a dick, but can't people like you just feel if I'm harboring fugitives on my ship?" He looks up at you, and you hope he can’t see the way you’re still shaking, hope he can’t feel any of the shame you’re trying so desperately to hide. You need him off your ship—no more complications, no more interference.

"People like me?" he asks, with the slightest hint of laughter, just barely detectable behind the modulation. So he does feel it—your embarrassment, the leftover yearning that you can’t seem to elude.

You roll your eyes again, as if the movement itself could create the nonchalance you’re trying so hard to mimic. You want to be annoyed at him. You want to be unaffected, cool despite what just happened. But it’s not working. "You know what I mean. Couldn't you just sense them?"

"I know you're not hiding the people we're searching for,” he admits, sliding the floor panel back in place, “and I found all of these- "he gestures vaguely down the hall, the evidence of his handiwork littered along the corridor "-on my own." It’s hard to be sure when you can’t see his face, but you think he might be smug about it all.

You furrow your brow, thoughts humming, trying to piece together this interaction in a way that makes sense. When that fails, you resort to mockery.

“. . . So you've been ripping my whole ship apart for what? Just to show off?” Your heart jumps when you see him freeze—the physical changes slight, but not beyond your notice—a slow smile spreading across your face. You’ve got him now.

“You are trying to show off, aren’t you? I have to admit it, I’m impressed,” he stays where he is as you move closer, the visor of his mask trained on you, his muscles taut like he’s ready to run. Who would have thought that, in this scenario, you’d be the dominant one?

“That’s not-” he stutters—you can hear it through the vocoder, and you laugh, just a short, breathy thing. You shouldn’t let yourself get distracted from the goal at hand, but this is much more fun.

“No need to be embarrassed, I tend to have that effect on people. Everybody loves a scoundrel.” You flash him a cheeky smile, and he bristles, folding his arms over his chest again and standing to his full height. You can see the tension in him, practically pulling him apart. He wants to run from you. He wants to stay.

“Not me,” he says like he wants to believe it, but you can’t miss the way his voice shakes.

“You especially, Commander. The Order and its people are far too proper for someone like you. There aren’t enough scoundrels in your life.”

The silence that follows your words fills the space, leaving little room for air. Maybe you’re hallucinating, but he might inch closer, his fingers twitching, maybe to reach for the latches in his helmet, maybe to bury them in your hair.

The sound of pounding footsteps against the durasteel floor shocks the breath back into your lungs, but even as the trooper dashes into view, Ren doesn’t pull away.

“Sir, there’s a problem,” the trooper huffs, and after a pause, Ren rips his eyes away from you. The trooper hesitates, now, realizing that he’s barged in on what probably looks to him like a private moment. “Uh, there’s a small band of Resistance fighters attacking the troops, we believe they’re here for the fugitives.”

Ren’s immediately on the move, his cloak snapping from the speed of his departure, and you and the trooper glance at each other for a moment before they follow after Ren, and you do too, curious to see the commotion. Despite his limited headstart, Ren seems to have vanished from the corridors of your ship, no trace of him at all, the only sounds echoing through the hallway coming from your own footsteps and the soft jingle of the trooper’s movements.

The jingling. You’re almost to the door before you realize what that sound means, and you want to smack yourself. You can see the keys now, out of the corner of your eye. Escape had never been closer, and you almost missed it. You choose to ignore the voice in the back of your mind that reminds you about what had caused you to become so distracted. You don’t have time to think about it now. You have a plan.

The trooper startles when you yelp, tripping over nothing before you go sprawling, landing on the floor with a clang. You watch him from the ground as he stares back at you, hesitant, glancing towards the exit before his eyes fall to you again.

“A little help?” You sell it, make it look like a struggle as you try and fail to find your feet, but the trooper still doesn’t move just yet, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes. Then he takes the bait.

“Thanks,” you mumble under your breath, falling into him as he pulls you to your feet, bracing yourself against the duraplast of his uniform before pulling the keys from his belt with a deft tug and tucking them into your palm.

He doesn’t even notice, running as soon as you're stable, and you follow behind, spinning the key in your palms angling it just right until you hear the snap of release. You catch the cuffs, trying to limit the noise they make as they fall from your sore and stiff wrists. You’re free.

The trooper exits the ship immediately, off to help his comrades, but Ren is still by the door, deflecting the odd blaster fire. Most of the fighting is far past your ship, on the other side of the yard, but one or two stragglers have decided to aim his way. You watch from around the corner, listen as the sounds of fired shots ends with strangled cries. You move in behind him, getting close, holding the cuffs in place as best you can.

“Looks like the fight has moved on without you,” you announce your presence, and he turns to look at you, but your eyes are on the saber, burning bright and wicked by his side. “Impressive, but not very useful long range. Blasters are more . . . versatile.”

He gives you a hard look—a searching look—before raising his hand, the fingers flexing in his gloves. Your blaster, the one the trooper pulled off of you earlier, nudges past you on its way to his hand and you jump out of the way, hardly noticing the smooth movement with which he fires, the bodies dropping even from this range as he shoots into the crowd with perfect accuracy.

You’ve never seen him in action like this before. Despite the number of times you had come face to mask with Kylo Ren, he’s never used his powers on you. Something about the realization is frightening.

“We need to leave,” he says, interrupting your thoughts, “back to my shuttle.” He’s looking at you again, head inclined, like it’s a question instead of a demand. And the stupidest part of you wants to go. You force that part of yourself to be quiet.

He deactivates his saber, drops your blaster and reaches for you, his hand stretched out the same way it had only a few moments ago, but there’s none of the same power behind it; you still feel the pull.

“I know,” he says, and the cuffs fall from your hands because there’s no point in hiding anymore, “but . . .you still could-” he swallows hard enough for you to hear through the modulator, “-we still could . . .”

You walk towards him, your footsteps slow and even and he trembles, his fingers shaking again for an entirely different reason, and they don’t stop, not when they meet your waist, not when your hands grip both sides of his helmet, trying to find a hold against the cold metal.

“I’ll tell you what, Commander,” you say with a whisper, pulling him closer, close enough to rest your forehead against his, “I’ll go with you . . . the next time you catch me.”

It’s a smooth movement, unexpected—first you pull him close, pressing a kiss to the front of his mask, imagining the way his lips must be flushing in response, imagining what it would be like without the ridiculous apparatus in the way. He’s unbalanced, a little surprised, and when you push him back he doesn’t anticipate it, falling, flailing, until he lands with a thud in the soft mud outside of your ship.

“Until next time, Commander!” you call down to him as the hatch lifts, running to the cockpit as fast as your legs will carry you. You’re in a panic as you start up the ship, a shake in your hands that makes it hard to hit the right controls but you don’t stop until you hit lightspeed, trying your hardest to breathe.

You plug in the right coordinates and sit back in the pilot’s chair, brushing your hand across your cheek, picking up the stray moisture that lingers there. You don’t remember when the tears started. You’re not sure how to stop. It seems like today isn’t your lucky day after all.

#kylo ren x reader #kylo ren x you #kylo ren fanfic #kylo ren #my writing #requests #anons #historymiss

81 notes · View notes

certifiedskywalker · 5 years ago

Text

Bounty, Meet Hunter - Dyn Jarren (The Mandalorian)

chritsiandior

so basically, i was wondering if u could write a fic of where the reader is the mission that he was offered and he took (like baby yoda in ep1) then after he caught her and put her in his ship, she started to initiate a conversation with him and after it got more personal, they realized there's this lingering sexual tension and they ended up hooking up at the end

AN: I tried to make it as tension packed as I could without traveling ~too far~ if you know what I mean.

You’ve been on the run for years. So what happens when you finally get captured by a quiet Mandalorian that doesn’t like to talk? Well, maybe, that Mandalorian was your way out.

“Whatever they’re paying you, I can double it!”

Silence; aside from your dulled footsteps as you were pulled through the sand.

“Triple it!”

The helmeted man leading you remained quiet. You eyed his confident swagger with a frown. There would be no changing his mind. You had seen his type before. Bounty hunters like him were either wed to the Guild’s code and deathly stubborn. That didn’t mean you wouldn’t try to converse your way out of the bindings.

“I see you’d be fun at a bidding war,” you teased, hoping you could push him into speaking. Once he returned conversation, then you would hold the power. Then you would be able to slip your way in and out of harm’s way; or wherever the Mandalorian was taking you.

You would have kept talking, kept hurling punchy oneliners at the back of his head, if it weren’t for the people around you. With each step, you could feel the number of eyes on you growing. Small children looked at the Mandalorian with wonder in their eyes but when their gazes landed on you, a dark understanding spread along their features. They knew, every last one of them, that they would never see you walking free ever again.

“Hey, you mind loosening up,” you called out to the Mandalorian.

He kept walking even as you slowed your pace in the hopes of getting his attention. All it got you was a tug as the slack in the binding stretched between you. You caught yourself before falling face-first into the sand below your feet. With a huff, you caught up with the hunter that had finally laid claim to the bounty on your head.

You followed him up until his insect-like ship came into sight. Metal limbs planted the hulking beast to the ground; the size alone was enough to fill you with hope. The bigger the ship, the easier it was to escape. There would be more places to hide, to evade complete capture. All you had to do was get the Mandalorian to show you his cards.

“Nice ship you have here,” you shouted over the loud hum of the ship’s ramp lowering. “I get my own suite, I assume?”

As the cargo ramp finished its descent, the Mandalorian turned his helmeted head towards you. Even through the darkened glass and sleek beskar, you could feel the Mandalorian’s annoyance. You gave him a sly, knowing smile. Finally, he was beginning to crack; before long, you would be out of your bindings and free once more.

“Move.”

“What was that?” You leaned towards the bounty hunter, your ear turned in his direction.

“Move.” Before you could sass the Mandalorian again, he gave a yank to the binding that was still tightly gripped in his hand. It wasn’t enough to trip you up, but enough to stir you up.

“Alright, alright,” you marched past him with a smile, “your wish is my command.”

For a moment, you swore you heard a modulated scoff. After a second’s worth of a hestitation, wondering if you had merely imagined the sound, your bindings were jostled again. You raised you hands and waved at the Mandalorian.

“Yeah, I’m going.”

Escape possibilities aside, the bounty hunter’s ship was something to marvel at. The hull was impeccably clean; the only signs that it was even inhabited were the toilet and a spare pair of boots. What unnerved you was the lack of weapons. If you had to, you could make about anything fatal. It was the lack of refined weapons like blasters and rifles that set you on edge. From what little you did know about Mandalorians, their affinity for weapon stashes stuck out in your mind. This one had his favored tools hidden away.

“Keep going,” came the Mandalorian’s voice from behind you. You heard the hiss of the hydraulics as the loading ramp lifted. The last few rays of sunlight were cut from your vision, planting you firmly in captivity. You took a deep, dramatic breath through your nose and readied a new retort; but something stopped you.

“Is that…” you sniffed the air once more.

The smell was unmistakable. It was just as sharply acidic and metallic as the last time: carbonite. You had been in enough gambling establishment and Hutt-owned cantinas to have become acquainted with the scent. The odor was reminiscent of sweat and blaster-fire. You would have known it anywhere.

“Carbonite.” You craned your neck to looked into the Mandalorian’s helmet. A renewed sense of dread filled your stomach and you tried your best not to show it. You forced your lips into a straight, unmoving line and relaxed your shoulders.

“Yep.”

“You got your own freezer? I bet that was a few thousand credits.” Your words were a poor attempt at calming yourself. An attempt that, you yourself knew, was transparent.

“It did,” he replied curtly, “bounties like yours are how I keep it running.”

“My offer still stan-”

“Cockpit is up the stairs,” the Mandalorian interrupted. Straight to business, you thought bitterly, he was definitely from the Guild.

You bit your tongue and took the next few steps up the stairs. An array of blinking lights and buttons assaulted your vision. None of the said buttons were labeled or their function obvious to you. Without knowing the controls, there was no way you could safely navigate the ship if you managed to work free of your bindings.

The sound of the Mandalorian’s boots stomping behind you sent a chill down your spine. Carefully, you spared a glance behind you. In the sleek shine of the beskar helmet reflected the flashing colors. With each step the Mandalorian took, the lights looked like red and green stars dancing along the metal; except for the scattered, damaged patches.

“Sit,” he extended his arm out and gestured to a small chair situated behind the pilot’s console. You struggled for a moment before putting a smile on your face.

“Why thank you,” you sat yourself down, “I don’t mind if I do.”

Silently, the Mandalorian took the pilot’s seat and flipped a few dials on the control panel before him. You watched his every movement with a careful eye. Although you tried to ignore how the thick slope of his shoulder met with the muscle of his upper arm. Even under his plate of armor and heavy fabric, you could tell he was strong. When the engines roared to life, you realized just how long you had been staring.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” you started with a sigh, “but who called for the bounty?”

“I do mind.” You stifled a bitter laugh that threatened to crawl up your throat. All you had to do was buy yourself some time and keep him distracted.

“Was it Harkness? No, he’s with the New Republic now...”

As you spoke, you glanced around the cockpit. The immediate area was clean of any makeshift weapons. Nothing jostled loose as the ship took off into the dark space above. In fact, it was eerily quiet; to the point where all you heard your own heartbeat. Anxious to fill the noiseless void, you spoke up once more.

“It’s Hondo...Okna...Hondo Ohnaka. It’s got to be him.”

“The Guild doesn’t ask questions.” A smile slipped to your lips. You had been right: he was in the Guild. The rush of pride you felt at your correct assumption faded a second after. His Guild membership would make any possible corrupt all the more difficult.

“I guess that leaves the questions to me then, huh?”

You heard it that time, that barely-there scoff. The sound was enough to make your smile shine true; something you didn’t think was possible outside gambling and running scams. Before you let yourself dwell on that thought any longer, you shook your head. There wasn’t time to get lost like that. Especially when you had a bounty hunter with a strange temperament and a carbonite freezer at his disposal.

“You got a name?”

“Not for you to know,” he retorted.

“You don’t like to talk much, do you?”

Inadvertently answering your question, the Mandalorian stayed silent. You let out a hum of amusement and shifted in your seat. It already felt like you had been sitting for hours and depending on where your bounty was placed, you could be sitting for much longer. After crossing then uncrossing your legs, struggling to get comfortable, you sighed.

“How much longer until we reach the site of my demise?”

“At least you have humor,” the modulated voice nearly sent chills down your spine. Was that a compliment? You forced your mind to clear and found your voice.

“You hafta have something,” you eyed the dome of his helmet before adding, “like how you have your armor. Beskar, right?”

“Right.”

You leaned forward and tried to look into the visor of the helmet. From what you could tell, the bounty hunter’s armor was worn. Spots, where a blaster bolt struck the painted metal, shone under the blinking lights in the cockpit. How long had he worn the set?

“Do you ever take that off?”

He turned to face you, the mask gleaming under the flashing dials as his gaze peered at you through the darkened visor. Your cheeks warmed as you realized the double meaning of your words. Panic flooded your system and you opened your mouth to speak; at first, only a choked sound slipped out.

“I-I…”

“Yes.” You could almost feel him smiling at you from under his helmet. This was not how it was supposed to go. You were not the one to fluster but there you were, floundering.

“I didn’t mean…I know that…”

As you stumbled over your words, the bounty hunter turned his gaze back to the console. You let your still tied hands fall into your lap with defeat. With a sigh, you leaned back in your chair and set your feet up. The Mandalorian turned his head once more, all of the amusement gone in the way he held himself.

“What?”

“Get your feet off my ship.”

“In that case, do you have an escape pod, Mando?” He sighed at your question, although you were only half-joking.

“No.” He stood up and you watched him go. He flipped a dial or two on a console to the left of his seat. When he turned back around and saw your feet still lifted, he tilted his head. Even with his expressionless helmet, he was so easy for you to read.

“Fine,” you moved your feet, “but answer me this.” You shifted to sit upright and face him. The Mandalorian was already posed to protest.

“I don’t-”

“Is it true what they say?” When his head cocked to the side you stood up. “Is it true what they say about Mandalorians?”

You took a step towards him and you watched his stance stiffen. His hand moved to the side and pushed aside his cloak. Underneath, you saw the shine of his holstered blaster. You took another step towards him. For a moment, it was like you were gambling again: would he fire or were you reading into his well-crafted bluff.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to imply.” You leaned close to him, to the point where you could feel his body heat mingling with your own.

“That they like to keep the helmet on du-”

A loud, ear-piercing alarm cut off your teasing. You spun and glanced out the viewport. The console before the port was now home to a now flashing red light. Something told you that, out of all the blinking dials on this unique ship, that the large red one was not meant to go off. You turned back to the Mandalorian who was already reaching past you.

“The fuel tank,” he grumbled and he slammed his fist down on the console.

“A leak?” You asked, but he was already stomping down the stairs to the hull.

You followed swiftly after him as the alarm grew louder and louder. Red light poured down around you and made everything in the ship darker. The shine of the Mandalorian’s helmet turned crimson and, under the light, you understood why Mandalorian armor was so prized. Overall, it looked menacing, dangerous, and strong.

“Go back up!” He shouted as he pulled away a segment of the wall. A series of pipes were exposed and a wave of familiarity washed over you. This, this was something you knew.

“How many tanks?”

The Mandalorian turned his head and you could feel his muddled shock.

“How many tanks does your ship have?”

“Five.”

You nodded and nudged the helmeted man aside. Carefully, you brushed your fingers along the five largest pipes. The first two were hot to the touch, the third ice cold. After you dragged your fingertips along the last two pipes and pulled away with warmed hands, you sat back on your heels. “Your main thruster tank is malfunctioning.” You looked up and saw the bounty hunter staring down at you. “What? I wasn’t always a smuggler and notorious gambler.”

Silence, although, this time, it wasn’t out of professionalism. He was surprised. You tried to imagine what this nameless man looked like. You wondered if his eyebrows, which were most likely raised in shock, were bushy. Perhaps he was handsome; if that was the case, you surely hoped that what you had heard about Mandalorians was wrong.

“I need to reroute the fuel,” you said, letting logic take hold of your wandering thoughts. “Do you have an impact wrench and,” you glanced back at the pipes, “a hexdriver?”

The Mandalorian darted off and you went back to the pipes in the wall. You thought back to every lesson and swallowed the memory of who taught you how to listening to the whistling of the metal and flow of fuel. Memories resurfaced anyway and you felt a sense of underlying darkness. You had been doomed from the start.

Now, here you were, repairing the ship of a bounty hunter so you both wouldn’t die lost in space. Instead, once you fixed the ship, you would be killed by whoever placed a hefty bounty on your head. Either way, you were faced with death. Before you could dwell any longer, the natural weight of hexdriver fell into your hand.

When you looked up, the Mandalorian was standing at your side. In his hand, he held an impact wrench and on the floor beside his feet, there was a cramped toolbox. The sight was enough to make you forget. You smiled and gripped the hexdriver tightly.

“Do you mind?” You lifted your still bound hands up to the Mandalorian. A moment’s hesitation lingered, still heavy with the tension you had built with your teasing questions. Yet, the bounty hunter released you binding with a click and you sighed. “Let’s get to work.”

“Alright,” you sat back and wiped at your forehead. “That should do it.”

As if your words were the final wave of a Jedi’s magic hand, the red light faded and the still-ringing alarm faded. You smiled in relief but, like the alarm, it fell from your lips and into nonexistence. With the job done, reality sank back in. You were a bounty and the person you had just saved, besides yourself, was the one bringing you in.

“Thank you.” The Mandalorian’s voice sounded shallow, almost as if the words traveled out of his mouth on a held breath.

“Yeah, no problem.”

You bit the inside of your cheek as he shoved the panel back into the wall. As he hid the pipes once more, you glanced at the floor around the Mandalorian. Your search ended when you tried to curl your hand into a fist. You still held the hexdriver; the perfect weapon.

Shakily, you stood up and studied the Mandalorian’s exposed back. Despite your heart racing in your chest, it felt like everything else was trudging through the swamps on Dagobah. Your doubts and worries danced slowly in your mind. With each passing thought, your legs stalled in their movement. If you did strike him, where would that leave you?

You had spent your whole life trying to carve out some semblance of sanctuary. From gambling to smuggling, you had committed almost every crime to cut through the poverty that kept you from such refuge. Those missteps and dalliances in deviance had roped you in with pirates, the Hutts, and made you much too close to the grimy world of street law. Now, the threats of bounty hunters and death had caught up with you.

Attacking the Mandalorian could accomplish two things. One way, you would not be able to wound him and he would shoot you through the gut without a second thought. Another way, your strike could prove fatal and you would be free. Free to continue running and evading death that, if the Mandalorian was any indicator of, would be lurking around every corner.

“I wouldn’t.”

The Mandalorian’s voice broke you from your thoughts. You lowered the hexdriver and the man turned around. When faced with his helmeted head, you found yourself peering into the visor. You wondered that if you looked hard enough you could perhaps catch a glimpse of his eyes. Before you could test the theory, the Mandalorian held out his hand and your gaze followed the fluid movement.

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about Mando,” you sighed bitterly. You pressed the hexdriver into the bounty hunter’s hand.

“Yeah,” he said, putting the tool in one of his pockets. “I’m sure you don’t.”

“So, care to tell me about who placed the bounty now?”

“No,” he said coldly, but he didn’t turn away. “I have a question.” You raised a brow and crossed your arms over your chest.

“I thought the Guild didn’t ask questions,” you countered. There it was again, that little scoff that made you feel hopeful. You couldn’t quite explain why the sound made your shoulders feel light. Instead, you just let yourself enjoy it; you didn’t know how long you had left to enjoy anything else.

“I’m asking,” the Mandalorian clarified. After a pause, you nodded for him to continue.

“Okay, shoot.”

“Do you want a job?” The question made your stomach twist.

“What?”

“Do you want a job? You know what you’re doing here,” he gestured to the now hidden pipes, “and you’ve proven your worth.”

“I almost killed you.” You almost shouted it, lost in the Mandalorian’s reasoning. “How can you trust me?”

“I can’t,” he said cooly and he started to move past you. “But you can’t trust me either.”

He was right. Just as you could kill him, he could kill you; or worse, he could turn you in and collect on the bounty. At the thought, you swallowed hard and found yourself walking towards the Mandalorian. He didn’t tense like he did before as you stopped a step before him. In a flash, you extended a hand to him.

“I want a job.”

“Good. You started today.” You couldn’t help the smile that spread along your lips. He took your hand a gave it a firm shake. The touch, however professional, sent a shiver down your spine.

“When do I get paid?” The Mandalorian sighed and dropped your hand. You had to stifle the laugh that nearly slipped up your throat.

“You ask too many questions,” he observed as he clambered up into the cockpit. From down in the hull, you watched him go.

“I have one more!” The Mandalorian turned around and you stared into the visor of the mask. Maybe you could see his eyes because, for a moment, it felt like you were being seen, truly seen, for the first time.

“What?”

You smiled. “Is it true what they say about Mandalorians and their helmets?”

It felt like, maybe, the Mandalorian was smiling too when he replied.

“You’ll have to stay around to find out.” That and your name, you thought to yourself with a smile.

With that teasing response, the Mandalorian turned and stomped back up to the cockpit. Once he was out of sight, you looked around the ship. You could make this work. As the thought entered your mind, you looked back up to the cockpit only to catch the shine of the Mandalorian’s helmet. Yeah, you could definitely make this work.

778 notes · View notes

kinglazrus · 5 years ago

Text

The Haunting of Danny Fenton

Phic phight 2020

Submitted by @ave-aria: Valerie Gray is Danny Fenton's Bodyguard AU (*can be Modern AU, Medieval AU, Corporate AU, Full Ghost AU, whatever)

Summary: Valerie knows Danny Fenton, everybody does. Youngest of the family, son and heir, future owner of Fenton Works. Notable for all those reasons and infamous for none of them. Where Maddie and Jack are the local quirks, Danny is the tragedy. And, for the next week, he's the Red Huntress' newest client.

Chapter One: Local Tragedies

Word count: 1988 | [ffn] [ao3] | [next]

Valerie doesn't know what to expect of the Fentons. She knows about them, everyone does, but she's never met them. At least not face to face. The Fentons aren't just citizens of Amity Park, they're a feature of it, like the statue of the city's founder on Main Street, or the novelty billboard that welcomes people into town. Amity Park wouldn’t be the same without them.

They send her a town car. At this point in her career—which admittedly isn't that far—it's standard practice, at least when dealing with richer clients. The aggressively middle class can't afford the car. The lower class can't afford her, which is why she does those jobs for free. No point robbing good people of their money when the Amity elite already pay her extravagantly.

The Fentons aren't exactly the extravagant type, but they're nothing to scoff at, either. On the outside, the car looks fairly normal. Sleek, black, freshly polished and so clean she could probably eat off the hood. It pulls up to her office building, stopping right outside the front doors, snug to the curb.

Valerie doesn't wait for the driver to get out before opening the back door herself. She thinks it's such a ridiculous practice. Are rich people so needy they can't open a door for themselves? With a shake of her head, she picks up her suitcase and slides into the car. She freezes.

Inside, it's nothing like any town car she's been in before. It has the standard four seats, two against the back, two against the front, turned to face each other, but otherwise, it lacks all expected luxuries. Instead of plush leather, the seats are basic vinyl with neoprene covers on top. The carpet is stripped away, replaced with metal panels. Computer screens bearing the Fenton Works logo cover the windows on the left side of the car. The small drink stations Valerie has grown used to over the past couple years are gone. In their place stands a compact computer console on one side of the car and a fully stocked weapons' rack on the other.

Valerie stares at it all, mouth gaping shamelessly, wondering what all of this says about the Fentons themselves. Are they showy? Practical? The number of guns—she counts six—seems unnecessary. But, thinking of her own arsenal compacted into thick bracers on her wrists and cuffs on her ankles, she knows there's no such thing as too many guns when it comes to ghost hunting.

The partition separating the driver from the passengers goes down. The driver turns to face her, and Valerie's mouth falls open even wider. There's no mistaking that red beanie, those bulky half-moon glasses, the impossibly turquoise eyes.

"Tucker Foley?" Valerie exclaims.

"The one and only!" Tucker grins. Turning all the way around, he leans over the partition, elbows braced on the seats facing Valerie. "Haven't seen you since graduation. Feels like yesterday."

"It was two years ago."

Tucker sighs wistfully. "Yesterday."

"You work for the Fentons now? As their driver?" Valerie asks. She always thought Tucker would go big into technology development, coding, something like that. Or become a wanted cybercriminal.

"Me? A driver? And waste all these good looks? Please." Tucker scoffs and waves a hand dismissively. "I run the computer division at Fenton Works. When I heard Mr. and Mrs. F were hiring you, I just had to come get you myself."

"You're twenty," Valerie says.

"Hey, cool, you still know how to count. That's a great skill."

"You're twenty, and you're running a whole division at Fenton Works?"

"You're twenty and you have your own security company," he points out.

"One person company.

"One person division." Tucker grins. "It's really just me and my computer. Cyber security against ghosts isn't a big field yet."

Valerie eyes Tucker, unsure how to respond. Whatever she expected, Tucker wasn't it. Now, she feels off-balance, like she's missing something important, and she hates that feeling. It shouldn't matter that much. Amity Park isn't a huge city; the chances of her running into a former classmate are rather high. But Tucker was prepared for Valerie, and she wasn't prepared for him. Childishly, she feels like she's at a disadvantage. Which is ridiculous because she's here to fight ghosts, not Tucker. But his sudden appearance has disarmed her so completely that, if a ghost were to attack right then, she would be too stunned to react.

"You should see the look on your face," Tucker says.

Valerie purses her lips and scowls, wiping away whatever amusing expression has Tucker giggling under his breath. "You should drive."

Tucker's laugh balloons into gleeful cackles as he turns back around. "Whatever you want, Ms. Grey!"

Valerie, fuming, slams her thumb on the partition button, rolling it back up. To her annoyance, she can still hear Tucker's infuriating laugh through the glass.

—

When Valerie says the Fentons are a feature of Amity Park, she really means their laboratory, Fenton Works. Don't get her wrong, Maddie and Jack Fenton are a sight all on their own. On any given day, they can be seen tearing down the street in their bulky weaponized RV, guns blazing, wearing their brightly coloured jumpsuits. Seeing them for the first time is quite the experience. You can easily spot nearby tourists by checking people's reactions to the Fentons.

But Fenton Works. Fenton Works is a monolith dedicated to every crackpot idea the Fentons have ever had. When Valerie was in high school, Fenton Works was a single townhouse standing proudly at the corner of Lady and Red, bearing an obnoxiously neon sign. Above it loomed a massive saucer-shaped structure covered in more satellites than the local news station. Back then, Valerie thought the townhouse was a leering giant. Nowadays, it's dwarfed by the massive warehouse that takes up the rest of the block.

"Damn," Valerie whispers, peering out the righthand window as they turns onto Lady Avenue.

Tucker lowers the partition. "Pretty cool, right?"

Valerie eyes the mural of ghosts decorating the side of the building. "It's something."

Rather than stopping in front of the townhouse, Tucker turns onto Red Crescent and loops around to the back of the facility. Along the avenue, the warehouse is built almost right up to the sidewalk. On this side, however, there's a wide parking lot and, oddly enough, a lush garden surrounding a pond.

"I'm not the only one who thinks that looks weird, right?" She points to the pond.

Tucker cranes his neck, following her finger, and chuckles. "Jazz asked her parents to put that in so that employees have somewhere 'calming' to go. There's a greenhouse up on the roof, too,"

Pressing her cheek to the window, Valerie tries to spot the aforementioned greenhouse, but they're too close to the building now for her to see it.

Tucker pulls into a reserved parking spot just across from the homely picket fence that surrounds the townhouse's backyard. Valerie officially has no idea what to think about the Fentons.

"Come on," Tucker says, throwing open his door. "Everyone's waiting for you."

Valerie grabs her suitcase and climbs out of the car, nudging the door shut behind her. "Everyone?" She looks over the car at Tucker.

He twirls the keychain around his finger. "You'll see."

Valerie expects him to head for the townhouse but, to her surprise, he pivots right and starts walking to the warehouse doors.

"Come on," he calls over his shoulder.

Valerie jogs after him, easily hoisting her suitcase in one hand, and ponders on what the inside the facility looks like. Crates of weapons stacked one on top of the other. An arsenal of ghost hunting vehicles, everything from their patented RV design to their one of a kind all-terrain bus. All-terrain meaning it flies in the human realm and the Ghost Zone. The ground can't stop you if you never touch it. She pictures an honest to god warehouse and prepares herself for exactly that sight when they reach the front doors.

The moment they go inside, however, Valerie promptly decides to never assume anything about the Fentons and how they operate ever again.

"Something wrong?" Tucker asks when he sees Valerie stuck in the doorway.

"No," she says honestly. "It's fine." She steps into the foyer, complete with a receptionist's desk, comfortable armchairs for waiting, and a few potted plants. Looking behind her, she sees floor to ceiling windows looking out onto the pond. Valerie could have sworn the walls were solid from the outside.

"Hey, Octavia." Tucker waves to the receptionist. Pulling a lanyard out of his pocket, he shows her an employee ID card. "I've got the nine o'clock."

"It's four in the afternoon," Octavia, a modest middle-aged woman, says without looking up from her computer.

"Time is relative. Val." Valerie stops gawking at the room and looks to Tucker. "You can leave your suitcase here, unless you need anything from it. Octavia can take it to the guest room."

"I can, but I won't," Octavia says. "They're in the Boom Room."

"Love you too, babe." Tucker clicks his tongue, shooting Octavia double finger-guns, and ducks through a doorway at the back of the room.

Valerie stands awkwardly in the middle of the foyer.

Octavia finally raises her head, giving Valerie a critical look. After a moment, she sighs and holds out her hand. "I'll take your bag. Trust me, Tucker'll be halfway across the building if you don't follow him now. That kid never looks back."

"Thank you." Valerie rushes over, passing her bag across the desk, and follows Tucker. On the other side of the door is a long plain hallway. She looks right, then left, but there's no sign of Tucker. She debates her chances of choosing a random direction and finding him by pure luck. Before she can decide, a long ding rings out. The noise draws her attention to a set of elevators down the hall on her left.

The doors open. Tucker pokes his head out. "Hurry up, slowpoke.

Valerie wonders if punching Tucker in the face will affect her paycheque. Just once. Just a small jab. She won't even break his nose. In the end, she decides not to risk it, settling on a fierce glare as she reaches the elevator.

"This is a big place, you don't want to get lost," Tucker says.

"Then don't leave me behind."

"Not my fault you're slow." Tucker hits the button for the third floor—third out of five.

What on Earth the Fentons need all this space for, Valerie has no idea. She tries to picture it, then remembers how her expectations keep getting smashed to pieces and thinks better of it. There will be lots of time to find out.

"Why Fenton Works?" Valerie asks, filling the silence.

Tucker rocks back on his heels and hums. "Ghost stuff is kind of cool. I get to pioneer a whole new area of cyber security that no one even realizes we need, and I'm not even done college yet. Working here helps me pay for my online classes, too, so I don't even have to leave Amity."

"Why? Sounds like you'd still have a job waiting for you when you graduate." She can't imagine Tucker spilling his cyber secrets to someone else before he can cultivate the field himself. Surely, then, the Fentons would need him on board, no matter how long he puts off working for them.

"Yeah," Tucker nods, "I would. But I'm staying for Danny."

The elevator chimes when they reach the third floor, the doors sliding open. Tucker glides through them without looking back, but Valerie hesitates once again. Danny—Daniel Fenton. She knows Daniel Fenton. Youngest of the lot, son and heir, future CEO of Fenton Works. Notable for all those reasons and infamous for none of them. Where Maddie and Jack are the local quirks, Danny is the tragedy.

#thdf #phic phight #phic phight 2020 #danny phantom #phanfic #phic #danny phantom fanfiction #valerie gray #bodyguard au #tumblroneshots #except it's not a oneshot

89 notes · View notes

btsqualityy · 5 years ago

Text

BTS Toddler Series #32: Finding Out that You’re Pregnant Again

Author’s Note: So, this is it guys! It’s been a long 7 months of exploring the lives of the members, their wives, and their kids! I’m honestly crying as I type this, but this is the last part of the Toddler Series! Thank you all so much for reading and leaving likes, comments, and reblogs! And an even bigger thank you to all of the people who have EVER sent me an ask regarding these Toddlers and different aspects of their lives! Ya’ll honestly made me a better writer and I couldn’t be anymore grateful to you guys for indulging me and my little universe! After this, I will be doing another Pregnancy Series which should be getting started in mid-October. In the meantime, I’ll be focusing on Amour Vincit Omnia, some small drabbles of the couples and of the toddlers as teenagers, and writing and releasing some imagines that I’ve had outlined for forever lol. Again, thank you all so much and I hope you all enjoy this last part!

Kim Seokjin

“You really didn’t have to come with me Jin,” you said as you looked over at him as the two of you sat in one of the examination rooms that was in your doctor’s office.

“I know but I had the day off so what’s the harm?” He shrugged. “And besides, I’ve been worried about how sick you’ve been lately.”

“I know and I have no idea what it could be,” you told him. “I haven’t thrown up this much or felt this nauseous and gross in years.” Before Jin could reply, there was a knock on the door before it opened and your doctor walked inside.

“Hi Y/N, Seokjin,” he greeted you both with a smile.

“Hi,” you smiled.

“Hi Doc,” Jin said.

“So, I know you came in because you’ve been feeling really sick so we ran a full panel on you and you tested negative for everything,” the doctor started.

“So you don’t know why I’ve been feeling so horrible?” You wondered.

“I wasn't finished,” he chuckled. “You came back negative for everything except one thing.”

“What is it?” Jin questioned.

“Congratulations Y/N, you’re pregnant,” he announced and your eyes immediately went wide.

“I-I’m pregnant?” You gasped, feeling the tears beginning to well up in your eyes.

“Yeah, 6 weeks,” he confirmed with a nod before looking at you and Jin’s faces to gauge your reactions. “I’m assuming that this one wasn’t planned?”

“Absolutely not,” Jin laughed.

“Well, here’s your prenatal vitamins and some pamphlets on becoming a mommy again,” your doctor said as he handed you a bottle of pills and a few brochures. After telling you and Jin goodbye, he walked out of the room to give you and Jin some privacy.

“Can you believe it Jinnie? I’m pregnant again,” you squealed, making Jin smile as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“And we weren’t even actively trying this time,” he added with a smirk, making you roll your eyes playfully. “I love you Y/N.”

“I love you more Jin,” you smiled, giggling when he puckered his lips out and you leaned forward to kiss them.

Min Yoongi

“Y/N-ah, I wish you’d stop being so fucking stubborn and let me take you to the hospital,” Yoongi groaned.

“Yoongs, it’s just a bad case of the flu,” you shrugged, immediately leaning over and vomiting into the small bucket that was next to your side of the bed.

“Y/N, you haven’t gotten out of bed in two days,” he deadpanned. “And it’s not the flu.”

“Then what is it, oh Master of Medicine?” You questioned as your rolled your eyes.

“You’re pregnant again.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Your period’s late, isn’t it?” He said and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“That could be because I’m sick though.”

“Or because you’re pregnant.”

“Listen, just to shut you up, can you go get me a test?” You asked him and he nodded before grabbing his keys and wallet from the dresser. About 20 minutes later, he came back with a pregnancy test in hand.

“Help me up please?” You pleaded and he nodded before wrapping his arm around your waist and helping you out of bed. He helped you into the bathroom and handed you the test before walking back out to give you some privacy. You then opened the test and used it, setting it on the counter before wiping and flushing the toilet. You then hobbled over to the door, opening it and motioning for Yoongi to come in.

“How long did it say?” He wondered.

“One minute,” you replied as you went to the sink to wash your hands.

“Would you care if you are pregnant again?” He questioned as he looked over at you.

“You know I wouldn’t Yoongs,” you chuckled. “I’d actually be happy but I just don’t want you to have the satisfaction of being right.”

“Well, looks like that isn’t an option jagi,” he grinned as he picked up the test and held it out to you. You took it into your hands and gasped when you looked at the huge plus sign that was on the face of it.

“I really am pregnant again Yoongs,” you laughed as you looked up at him.

“We’re having another little Min,” Yoongi smiled as he walked over to you, grabbing your face in his hands and kissing you passionately.

Kim Namjoon

“Ah, what the hell?” You whispered to yourself as you looked down at the two positive pregnancy tests in front of you. You hadn’t been feeling like yourself lately, similar to the way that you felt when you were pregnant with Mason, so you decided to take a pregnancy test just to be sure. However, you weren’t actually expecting the first test to turn up positive, and the second test only confirmed it.

“Mommy!” You heard Mason yell along with the sound of the front door opening and closing and you glanced back down at the pregnancy tests before walking out of the bathroom and down the stairs.

“Hey jagi,” Namjoon smiled as he helped Mason take his shoes and jacket off. “Someone had a really good day at school today.”

“Oh yeah?” You hummed, smiling as Mason came running over to you.

“Yeah and look, I got a gold star!” He exclaimed as he pointed to his shirt, where a gold sticker sat.

“Good job Myungie,” you praised, taking a second to bend down and kiss his cheek. “Why don’t you do me a favor and go play in your room for a little bit?”

“Ok,” he nodded, grabbing his backpack and heading up the stairs.

“You ok Y/N-ah?” Namjoon wondered as he walked over to you. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost or something.”

“Uh, I think so but I have to tell you something,” you said. “Come here,” you told him, grabbing his hand and turning around to lead him up the stairs. Once you reached the top, you lead him to the bathroom where the two pregnancy tests were still sitting on the counter.

“Jagi, are these?” Namjoon mumbled before picking up one in each hand, his jaw slightly dropping when he saw the positive results.

“I’m pregnant Joon,” you confirmed. Namjoon immediately set the tests back onto the counter and walked over to you, holding your face in his hands.

“Are you ok with this?” He checked in and you smiled softly as you wrapped your hands around his wrists and laid your forehead against his chest.

“Mmhmm,” you nodded. “Scared though.”

“That’s understandable jagi. You’re gonna be great though,” he assured you and you lifted your head to look at him. “You’re such an amazing mom to Mase, our second baby is gonna be so lucky to have you.”

“And they’re gonna be lucky to have you too,” you said as you poked his side, making him smile and shake his head.

“You’ll be fine, ok?” He promised you and you nodded, choosing to just cast all your doubts aside and believe him. “I’m gonna be right here by your side the entire time.”

“I love you Joon, so much,” you whispered as you laid your forehead against his chest again.

“I love you too,” he smiled before leaning down and kissing the top of your head.

Jung Hoseok

“Y/N-ah!” Hobi called as he walked into the house, shutting the door behind him before walking off into the living room. You were sitting on the couch, laid back against the back of it with your eyes closed.

“Baby?” Hobi called as he walked over to you and you opened your eyes when you heard his voice again.

“Hey Hobi,” you said quietly as he sat down next to you on the couch. You immediately sat up so that he could wrap his arm around your shoulders before leaning against him.

“Hey, you ok?” He wondered.

“I’m fine.”

“Did everything go ok at the doctor’s?” He asked, knowing that today had been the day that you went to your doctor’s office to renew your birth control.

“I actually need to talk to you about that,” you said as you looked up at him. “So you know how when I go to renew my birth control, they have to give me a pregnancy test first in order to make sure that I’m not pregnant?”

“Yeah, what about it?”

“And you remember how a few weeks back, when we were about to have sex and I told you that my shot was still good? Even though I had missed my original renewal date?”

“Yeah.”

“Let’s just say I wasn’t able to get the birth control,” you summed up and Hobi’s eyes widened.

“You’re, you’re pregnant again jagi?” He whispered and you nodded. It was quiet for a few seconds before his eyes widened even more. “You said that your last shot was still in your system though.”

“Hobi, I almost never go and get my shot renewed on the day that I’m supposed to and it’s never affected it before!” You shot back. Hobi then shut his eyes and took a deep breath, not wanting to start a fight with you.

“I’m sorry Y/N-ah,” he whispered as he pulled you closer to him and kissed the side of your head. “Are you ok with it?”

“Yeah, just worried,” you admitted honestly. “Us with three kids is gonna be a lot Hobi.”

“I know but hey, we’ve been doing pretty good at containing the chaos of two,” he pointed out with a small smile. “I don’t think one more is gonna make much difference.”

“I love you, you know that?” You mumbled, grateful to have a husband who always looked at the bright side of things.

“I love you more jagi,” he said and you leaned up, pressing your lips to his gently. “We got this Y/N-ah. I promise.”

Park Jimin

You were in the kitchen, bent over the counter as you pressed your forehead to the cool marble. Your head had been killing you all day long and it had gotten so bad that you had to take a second to make sure you didn’t pass out or something.

“Mommy?” Noah called as he walked into the kitchen and you immediately straightened up, not wanting him to know that you weren’t feeling that great.

“Yes baby?” You asked and he walked up to you, setting his hands on your thighs.

“Can I have animal crackers?” He requested and you smiled with a nod.

“Sure, why don’t you go sit up in your chair and I’ll bring them to you?” You told him and you smiled softly as you watched him do as you said. You then walked across the kitchen to one of the cabinets that hung on the wall and you opened it. When you reached up to grab the animal crackers however, you felt your vision go blurry and you swayed on your feet. The very last thing that you remembered was the feeling of your body hitting the ground before everything went completely black.

When you came to, you opened your eyes and realized that you were in a hospital bed. You looked over to your right, only to see Jimin holding your right hand with his left hand and scrolling through his phone with his right hand.

“Jimin-ssi?” You whispered and Jimin’s head popped up to look at you. Throwing his phone down onto the bed, he scooted towards the end of his chair so that he was closer to you.

“Hey Y/N-ah,” he said quietly. “How you feeling jagi?”

“Really groggy and my head still hurts,” you replied honestly. “What happened?”

“You fainted,” Jimin explained and your eyes widened as you started to remember what had happened.

“Noah! Where’s Noah?” You demanded to know as you tried to sit up and Jimin got up out of his chair and set his hands on your shoulders, pushing you back into bed.

“Jagi, he’s fine, I promise,” Jimin swore. “When you fainted, he found your phone and called 911 and then he called me afterwards.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, he actually did an amazing job. He refused to leave your side though, even after you guys got here to the hospital. I had to bribe him with cuddles just to get him to leave with the members,” Jimin explained with a chuckle.

“My sweet baby,” you smiled softly. “Have the doctors come and talk to you yet? Do you know why I fainted?”

“Y/N,” Jimin said as he sat down on the edge of your hospital bed, grabbing both of your hands in his as he looked at you. “You’re pregnant.”

“What?” You chuckled.

“Yeah, that’s why you fainted. Your hormones were trying to balance themselves out, just like-”

“When I got pregnant with Noah,” you finished and Jimin nodded. You let a rush of air out of your mouth as you let the news soak in. “We’re having another baby Jimin-ssi.”

“Yeah we are jagi,” Jimin grinned, leaning forward and kissing you softly.

Kim Taehyung

“Why are you staring at me like that?” You laughed as your eyes met Taehyung’s in the mirror. You had been trying to get ready to go out to lunch with the other members’ wives, but you had been catching Taehyung staring at you the entire time.

“I just, you look different,” he muttered and you turned around and walked over to the bed, sitting next to him.

“Different?” You hummed.

“Yeah. Like you’re, glowing,” he said and you rolled your eyes playfully

“So you’re still on this?” You asked him with a small smile. For the last week or so, Taehyung kept making small comments about how he thought you were pregnant again. You tried not to pay him attention, but when the start date of your period came and went without any sign of Aunt Flo four days ago, you actually had started to think that he may be right.

“I can’t help it Y/N-ah,” he whined childishly, making you laugh at him. “I just know your body and I can sense a difference.”

“Aw Tae,” you cooed, moving forward and kissing his pouting lips. “Would it make you feel better if I took a pregnancy test?”

“It really would,” he nodded enthusiastically, like a little kid.

“Where’s the pregnancy test then? I know you already have one,” you said and the small smirk on Tae’s face only confirmed it for you. Tae got out of the bed and you followed behind him as he walked into your shared bathroom. He bent down and opened the cabinet that was underneath the sink, reaching to the very back and pulling out a box with two pregnancy tests inside.

“Ok, get out,” you said and he pouted before walking out of the bathroom and shutting the door behind him. You then used the bathroom, using both of the tests before sitting them onto the counter. Once you were completely finished, you washed your hands before opening the door.

“One minute,” you told him before he could even ask you how long it would take for the results to show up on the tests.

“I know that I probably sound crazy jagi but I’m telling you, I just know,” Tae explained and you couldn’t help but to giggle at him.

“I actually need to tell you,-” you started to say but the timer that you’d set on your phone went off, making Tae jump and rush to grab the tests from the counter.

“Holy shit,” Tae gasped and you walked over to him, leaning over to get a look at the tests and your eyes widened at the large “PREGNANT” that was on the face of both of them.

“You were right Tae,” you smiled as you looked up at him.

“Hell yeah I was!” He exclaimed, taking a second to do a little dance in front of you, and you laughed at him. You decided that you’d tell him about your period having been late another time and let him have his celebration.

“Thank you Y/N-ah,” he said once he stopped dancing, coming back over to you and setting his hands on the sides of your neck.

“For what?”

“For giving me babies,” he told you and you smiled, setting your hands on the sides of his body.

“I didn’t make them by myself,” you pointed out with a laugh.

“But you’re doing all the heavy lifting so thank you,” he reiterated and you just responded by kissing him firmly.

Jeon Jungkook

“What the fuck are you so angry at me for?” Jungkook sighed in exasperation.

“Because you’re being an inconsiderate dickhead!” You shouted back.

“All I did was leave my clothes on the bathroom floor,” he replied.

“And you do it every fucking day! I shouldn’t have to clean up behind an adult.”

“Then leave it there and I’ll clean it when I get home!”

“Oh, as if you ever feel like cleaning when you get home,” you chuckled darkly. “We both know that I’m the one who does most of the cleaning.”

“Oh my gosh, are you mad at me for leaving the clothes on the floor or for not cleaning up around the house? Make up your fucking mind,” Jungkook snapped.

“Fuck off Jungkook,” you seethed, stomping towards the door of your bedroom to walk out but Jungkook reached out and grabbed your wrist, stopping you. “Let go of me.”

“No, because obviously you have a problem that’s making you act like this,” he said softly. The sudden gentleness of his tone made you realize how irrational you were being and you couldn’t help the tears that began to suddenly well up in your eyes.

“I’m sorry Kook,” you sighed and Jungkook just responded by pulling you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you and hugging you tightly.

“No no baby, it’s ok,” he whispered into your ear, hating to see you crying.

“I do have something that I need to tell you though,” you sniffled and Jungkook pulled back from the hug to look down at you. “I’m pregnant Kook.”

“You serious?” He wondered with wide eyes and you nodded while you reached up and wiped your face.

“Took a test while you were at the studio,” you replied.

“That’s why you bitched out at me?” He chuckled.

“You know how my emotions are when I’m pregnant,” you shrugged lamely.

“I should’ve known,” he muttered as he shook his head. “Are you happy?”

“It’s definitely unexpected but yeah,” you nodded. “Are you?”

“Of course Y/N-ah,” he smiled as he moved his hands from around you to set them on your cheeks. “We’re having another baby.”

“I love you Kook,” you whispered.

“I love you too Y/N-ah,” he grinned before leaning down and kissing you.

907 notes · View notes

cheonsa-gyu · 5 years ago

Text

sweet heights ☽

› summary ⟶ fluff! boyfriend hyuka takes you to the carnival, where you share a sweet moment in the air

› huening kai x reader

› 2.7k

› requested

› a.n ⟶ this was way too cute hyuni, thank you for the request. i’m trying out a new design that i am very much liking so far!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Saturday, July 11, 08:11 AM

You hit the snooze button once more. You groaned, forcing yourself to sit up in your bed. You covered your eyes, in an attempt to block out the extreme brightness from the sun. Your phone went off again from your nightstand, but this time it was a reminder.

You were going to the carnival with your boyfriend today. The best carnival you’d ever been to, but it only came for a few weeks in July every year. You had been begging Kai to go with you for months now. You knew it wouldn’t take much convincing. Even tho this boy is absolutely terrified of heights, he agreed to go when he saw how much it meant to you.

In general, you were excited to spend some time with him. Even though you guys had been in a relationship for half a year now, it was still in a soft and dreamy state. You still got butterflies every time he texted you or whenever he’d show affection towards you. You still got shy when he complimented you or talked about you in front of other people. Somehow you felt as if these feelings were never truly going to go away. Your relationship with Kai was always going to feel a bit timid and dreamy.

You also felt like you were never going to get used to the thought of your boyfriend being an idol. He was still so young. You both were. You supported Kai with everything, and you respected his schedule and the amount of time he had to spend on his job. You always felt bad when he prioritized you over his work. You had told him a million times that he should put his work first. Any other person would probably appreciate that he was doing these things, but you were worried it was going to put him in trouble.

Whenever you’d bring these issues up with Kai, he usually just brushed it off, not being worried about the outcome. You felt he should take it more seriously because in reality you really didn’t know what could happen if BigHit found out about the relationship. You honestly expected the worst. They would try to discipline Kai or maybe even force him to end his relationship, to focus on his career. These were very real issues, that often troubled your mind.

At most, you could do everything in your power, to protect Kai and make sure he took his work seriously, so you guys could stay together. You didn’t want to lose Kai, he meant everything to you.

You finally decided to get out of bed. It was already 8:30, and you guys had planned to meet at the carnival at 10 AM, so you were in rush to shower, get dressed and get there on time.

At this point, you were sure you’d be late. You felt bad because this meant Kai had to wait for you. You chewed at your lip as the taxi driver slowly tried to make his way through the gigantic crowd of people that were all headed to the carnival.

“I’ll get off here, thank you” you spoke up, handing over a 50 dollar bill to the driver. You collected your things and stepped out of the taxi. It was 10 AM now. You ran as fast as you could to the entrance. Your lungs felt like they were going to give out, but you kept running. You huffed and puffed your way over there, when you finally found Kai standing to the side, looking around.

You couldn’t help but smile, at his puzzled expression as he looked around for any sign of you. You made your way over to Kai, attempting to catch your breath on the way.

“Hey, cutie” Kai said, reaching his arms around you and pulling you closer for a loving hug. You were immediately met with the familiar scent that your boyfriend carried. It had to be one of the most comforting smells you’d gotten used to. It was somewhat citrusy, probably from whatever hair product he used. But Kai always smelled very aromatic and clean. Almost like the smell of fresh laundry and soap. You embraced Kai for a little longer than usual, this time.

“You look beautiful” Kai whispered, softly into your ear. As if the sun suddenly got hotter, your cheeks were immediately tinted with a soft pink. You pulled away to look into your boyfriend's eyes. His expression was soft and relaxed like always. Kai pecked your forehead, before intertwining his hand with yours. Hand-in-hand you walked over to the ticket booth. The line was long, much to your expectation. After all, there was a reason why you called this the best carnival of all time.

It was fairly windy, making your hair fly into your face, every now and then. And the sound of children screaming was almost deafening to listen to. After waiting in line, for what felt like forever, it was your turn.

“Two tickets please!” you yelled to the lady, trying to overpower all the screaming. You handed over the cash and in return received two wristbands. You were immediately pushed out of line by the people waiting behind you. You glared at the person who almost pushed you to the ground.

“Okay, what do you wanna try first?” Kai sounded excited, much to your surprise. For some reason, you had expected dread in his voice, but no, he sounded genuinely thrilled. You couldn’t help but feel like Kai was just pretending, to make you happy. But then again, Kai usually wouldn’t bother with pretending for something like this.

“I think you should choose first,” you said, softly punching his shoulder, earning a smile in return. Kai quickly grabbed you by your wrist and dragged you along in a hurry. You were confused as to where he was going in such a hurry, but when you arrived at the stand, you immediately knew why.

For the last few months, you had seen pictures of some of the prices that were going to be earnable at the carnival, and this one particular teddy bear had caught your attention. Kai always had to endure your whining, because you’d always talk about how badly you wanted one. There wasn’t anything particular about it, that made it stand out. It looked like a normal teddy bear, in a light brown color. It carried a plaid bow and was completely regular in size.

Kai didn’t have to say anything, you both immediately got in line, ready to shoot down some tin cans. You carefully observed the people in front of you, as it was their turn. You paid attention to any specific technique they used, but you felt lost going into this. Luckily your boyfriend looked as confident as ever. He stepped up the panel and picked up multiple balls. The balls were pure fabric, so you knew this was going to be hard.

The horn went off, and you frantically picked up the balls and embraced them closely, so they wouldn’t fall. Your first attempt, fail. Second attempt, fail. You simply weren’t strong enough to use enough force to knock down the cans that were diligently stacked on top of each other to create a triangle shape. You felt ashamed that you couldn’t even hit one, and before you knew it, the horn went off again. You were devastated at the thought of not winning one of the teddy bears, but as you were about to sob and complain to your boyfriend, the booth owner started speaking over the mic.

“Congratulations to number 4! You can pick any price, your heart desires” you were truly in shock. You knew Kai was good at these types of things, but you had been so focused on your own failure that you hadn’t noticed Kai literally destroying the game. Kai pointed at the teddy bear, and the owner handed it over, before congratulating him once more.

Kai turned towards you with a smirk on his face. He held the teddy bear in front of you. It looked as if Kai expected you to grab the teddy bear from his hands, but instead, you just squealed in excitement and wrapped your arms around his tall figure. You embraced him sincerely, thanking him for winning a prize that truly meant a lot to you. You pulled away to look at him, but he quickly turned his face to the side, trying to cover his face from you. You knew Kai loved getting complimented by you, but he wasn’t particularly very good at handling them.

You got up on your very tippy toes so you could reach Kai’s face. You carefully placed a soft peck on his cheek, only making it worse for your already shy boyfriend. The connection between your lips and his cheek felt warm. The touch was enough to spark butterflies in your stomach and make you feel dizzy.

After a sweet moment of gratefulness, you continued on, looking for a new thing to try. You were determined to have Kai try the falling tower with you. It was going to be hard, since it was probably the worst thing at the carnival, considering how high up it goes. But nonetheless, you wanted to go and so then Kai had no choice. While waiting in line, Kai was absolutely silent. Almost as if he was just waiting for his death and that it could happen any moment now. The waiting was over and you were both directed over to the seats. Thankfully you were seated next to each other.

Kai didn’t waste a second with buckling himself. He even triple-checked if it was closed as much as it possibly could. You grabbed his hand, pressing it softly to try and calm him down. Kai seemed almost frantic when the ride started going up. You started to feel really bad that you had forced him into this. He looked beyond terrified, staring down at the ground while the ride continued going higher and higher.

“Kai, look at me. You’re going to be okay” you were trying your best to calm him down, but you don’t think he even heard you. It was way too windy, and the higher you got, the louder the wind got. The ride finally stopped. You assumed this was because you reached the top, so it was going to drop at any moment. You quickly looked over at Kai, noticing he was already looking at you.

“I love you” at the exact same time you confessed these sweet words to your boyfriend, the ride dropped. The wind was pushing your hair in every direction and you felt like you had no control over your body at this moment. You hadn’t realized how scary these rides actually were since you’d never went into the falling tower before. And considering you hated it, you couldn’t even begin to imagine how Kai felt right now. Within 10 seconds you had reached ground level and the ride was slowing down again. The sound of an alarm went off and all the seats opened.

Kai got out of his seat within one second and immediately pulled you out of yours. He wasn’t looking away from the ground, only dragging you with him at a fast pace until you were both far away from the ride you’d just been tortured by. You finally stopped and pulled Kai in for a hug.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was going to be that bad” you explained, voice full of regret. You sheepishly bowed down to your boyfriend, wanting him to understand you genuinely felt sorry.

“Jagi, it’s okay. Let’s just do something fun, ok?” Kai’s usual positive energy was shining through like always. Even though he looked like a ghost mere minutes ago, getting off the ride. He truly was something else.

After countless hours of laughing and fun games, you both agreed on grabbing food and then going home. It had been a long time since you last had this much fun with Kai. Usually, you guys would go see a movie or just hang out at your place whenever you had time, but it was rare you guys were able to see each other for this long at a time. It made you appreciate having Kai in your life. Idol or not, this boy was truly amazing and never failed to make you smile. Today was very obvious proof of that.

You sat down at the restaurant table, waiting for Kai to come back from ordering. Sometimes you felt Kai acted a lot older than he was. And today had been a nice break from responsibilities and duties. Today you had the chance of seeing a side of Kai that he usually didn’t show much. It was a nice reminder to you and it only made you fall in love with Kai even more. As much as you regretted your sudden confession earlier, you don’t think it mattered much. Kai didn’t seem to react negatively in any way, in fact, you doubt he even heard what you said.

Kai returned with a tray in hand, that was filled with delicious food. You both dug into the food right away, almost starving from the long and exhausting day. Somehow after an entire day of running around in the wind, going on rides that literally destroy hair, Kai still looked as stunning as ever. You felt envious at his natural and effortless look. You probably looked like a dead fish right now. Oh and your hair? You gave up on that, hours ago. Kai looked so peaceful, munching at his food. You couldn’t help but smile.

“What?” Kai asked, looking up from his food for the first time since you started eating. He was smiling as well now. “Nothing, you just look happy,” you said, folding your hands on the table. Kai looked at you in silence for a few seconds, before he finished chewing his food. He took a last sip of his soda, before throwing the rest out.

“Come on. There’s one more ride I wanna try before we go home”. You raised a brow but followed him nonetheless. It was early July, so even though it was already 8 PM, the sun was only just starting to set. You guys had been dragging each other around to try different rides all day, but this time he was calmly walking, with his hand intertwined in yours. The carnival wasn’t as busy anymore and some of the rides had already closed. After walking for a few minutes, you stopped in front of the Ferris wheel. One of the few things you had completely forgotten about.

Thankfully the line was short, so you guys didn’t have to wait long at all. You scooted all the way over, so Kai could sit next to you, but he decided to sit down in front of you instead. You were somewhat disappointed. The wheel started back up, and it slowly started transcending higher and higher, stopping often. You felt an awkward silence hit the air between the two of you. These moments were always so romantic in movies, but the silence between the two of you felt weird and heavy. When you were almost at the top, Kai suddenly got up from his seat and wobbled his way over to you.

“Be careful!” you said, catching Kai’s hand so he could sit down next to you. The sun was starting to set, making the view that much more romantic. You were completely speechless at the view. The golden, almost smoky glow from the sun, stretched across the sky. It was truly a breathtaking view. You were completely hypnotized. Kai grabbed your hand, making you look in his direction. As you reached the very top of the Ferris wheel, Kai carefully leaned closer.

His lips brushed yours ever so softly. They were delicate, like butterfly wings. The kiss lasted just long enough that he could inhale your breath, feel the warmth of your skin, and taste some leftover lipstick, that had been slowly peeling of your lips as the day went by. He caressed your cheek diligently, making sure you felt comfortable. You were forced to pull away for air. Your breath was noticeably shaky, as you took a long breath.

“I love you too” Kai whispered ever so softly, flashing a charming smile. The Ferris wheel started moving again, taking both of you down to reality once more.

91 notes · View notes

innenofutari · 5 years ago

Text

An Analysis of Vanitas’s Personality (meta)

I’ve always wanted to write some little meta for Vanitas no Carte, more specifically Vanitas, who probably is one of my favorite characters overall. I can’t help but find his entire character so well-built and intriguing! Most notably how he is written to be the center of the story- he’s like a “key” to the “catbox”; once you understand him, you can understand the themes and mysteries of the story (or at least that’s what I believe Mochijun is going for currently).

Diving into his mindset is, let me tell you, one hell of a confusing ride. But, at the end of it, I think I managed to form my own interpretations pretty well. Also, considering that he’s the type of character meant to be a mystery, feel free to agree or disagree with this meta, after all this is only the way I view things, and your interpretations aren’t any less valid than mine. With that being said, you better sit down because I’m one motherfucker who talks your ears off I’m so sorry.

1. Vanitas’s “change of mood” in the manga:

I think I want to start by talking about one of the things about Vanitas that caught my attention while reading the manga for the first time, and this is Vanitas’s “attitude change”. While I was reading, it was so subtle and gradual that I didn’t even properly realize until halfway through the catacombs arc. That instantly piqued my attention and I, a moron as I am, went “Wait didn’t this idiot act completely differently ten chapters ago?”. So why, exactly, did this dumbass change his demeanor so drastically? Well, he kind of didn’t, really.

At the start of the series, we all know Vanitas looked to be in “a good mood”; he laughed all the time, constantly wore a smile on his face and seemed like he was having fun with everything around him, yet suddenly, he got grumpier, angrier, snapping at the smallest things and so on. This never had anything with his temper and feelings, but everything to do with trust.

Now, what exactly do I mean by “trust”? I’m sure everyone reading this already knows, but I’ll talk about it anyway because it’s almost three in the unholy morning and I’m running solely on cans of soda.

I’ll start by saying that there is no more effective way to conceal your feelings than by wearing a grin on your face; one smile can mean a multitude of things, and it’s very hard to tell anything about a person based on that. The “smiling tactic” is an extremely effective way of obtaining information without unintentionally giving any to the person you’re trying to take information from.

Even when August is literally choking him, and Vanitas is clearly in pain, his smile stays on, unwavering, from the beginning to the very end of his interrogation. Later, August himself even acknowledges that he himself couldn’t discover shit about Vanitas after all, since Vanitas is so well guarded.

His smile also serves another purpose other than to omit, and it’s exactly to extract information from other people.

Vanitas relies a lot on charm and charisma to gather information. He knows people are more willing to talk to someone friendlier, who wears a smile on their faces all the time and to who they can feel a sense of security and trust towards.

Based on this, it’s pretty safe to assume that with Noé at first was the same, wasn’t it? His enthusiasm at the beginning never really existed (although I still believe his instant interest towards Noé is pretty real, like he gravitated towards him). He uses his smiles to conceal, to gather information and also to taunt people (e.g. Astolfo), but it’s not truthful.

For me, Vanitas’s sudden “change” was one of the biggest proofs of his trust on Noé, and marks the beginning of when he truly started to see him as someone he could (kind of) confide in. You could argue that Vanitas jumping in the Altus portal was also a sign of trust, but I disagree. That still felt weirdly “calculated”, he knows someone with a personality like Noé’s would never let someone die in front of their eyes, so he gambled on this possibility. Vanitas trusted his own understanding of Noé’s personality, not Noé himself. However, what would he even gain by acting grumpy next to Noé? Nothing, right? He’s just exposing himself needlessly.

Now the question, what exactly sparked this sudden change in the way Vanitas felt about Noé? For the when, I think it’s pretty obvious what scene it was.

This scene is very important for many reasons. Each of Vanitas’s expressions here tell their own story and capture the nature of his contradicting feelings so well. But, I’ll get to these “contradictions” in a second, now I wanted to talk about something else: “hope”.

It’s no news to anyone that Vanitas is like, depressed as shit and is pretty much passively suicidal and, of course, entirely disillusioned with the world and society as a whole. He believes people and vampires alike are inherently selfish, twisted beings. Creatures so wicked that there is no point to even reason with them. Vanitas doesn’t have any hope whatsoever, both in himself and others. For him, the person is already drowning before even stepping into the lake.

Even so, I firmly believe that there is a side of Vanitas that wished so fervently to be proven wrong. Even though he was dead set on his beliefs, he wanted someone to come and crush them. To prove him that there is good in this world, that he was being a damn fool this entire time. But no one ever stuck around enough to do that. They were all unable to truly reach out to him.

Noé gave him the hope that there was a person who could convince him. That there was a person who could understand him, reach out to the depths of his heart and get past his lies. He willingly sets up this façade of this cold, unfeeling jerk who has no care for others and always does as he pleases, but he’s always wanted someone to look past this. Yet, at the same time, he’s deathly afraid of this possibility.

In the first picture, his face is in awe, as if he was looking at salvation itself. However, that all crumbles down when Noé says he is staying with Vanitas and the implications this has. That’s what he is terrified of. Aaaand with this we move to the second section of this analysis! (Damn this is getting so lengthy I truly became that one freak who writes a thesis worth of analysis of a drawing).

2. Vanitas’s fears and contradictions:

I think it’s really obvious to everyone that damn this dude got some issues regarding forming relationships with other people. It’s pretty safe to say the only friend he has is Noé, and that’s such an easy thing to overlook, mainly because of how he acts around others. You could argue that he’s friends with Dante but… that’s not quite so. Dante is, in fact, fairly good at reading Vanitas (which, unpopular opinion, is not a hard thing to do given how emotional he is, but let’s get to that later) but between them there is an emotional barrier neither is willing to cross. They’re more like close acquaintances than anything.

Well, this isn’t groundbreaking, but it’s pretty obvious Vanitas is terrified of forming any meaningful bonds with others. Thing most obviously showcased in the notorious chapter 12:

This panel… is a tricky one. It’s totally up to the reader’s interpretation and it could mean a myriad of different things, especially since very little was revealed about his past as of chapter 39.

I personally see this scene as showing Vanitas’s fear of attachment, laced with a tinge of self hatred. There is nothing Vanitas fears more than getting close to people and caring about them, he himself sees this as a weakness and something he absolutely must not have. On a side note, it is also possible that Vanitas thinks so lowly of himself that he thinks anyone that would seriously love him was completely out of their minds. Or both, who knows?

But what is so interesting is that… he can’t. Vanitas knows he should be cold, calculating, use people as pieces and discard them, knows he shouldn’t be emotional or act on impulse, knows he shouldn’t express any kind of feeling whatsoever and keep the concealing smile. Yet, he just fails so miserably in every single one of those. Vanitas cares a lot, more than he’d ever want to admit, he does completely reckless and uncalled for things for no reason other than it pissed him off, so of course he gotta get the last say because he has the mind of a teenager on their rebellious phase.

Say, can you think of any, any at all, conceivable explanation of what Vanitas could possibly gain by making that speech for all vampires to hear during the ball? There is none. If you think from his perspective, the only thing that little spectacle of his brought were disadvantages for himself. So why? Because he felt belittled, humiliated, and he’s prideful as all hell, so of course he had to prove how none of that was even remotely true. He wanted to affirm himself. In the thinking process of a cunning, one hundred percent unemotional man, that was a completely unnecessary move.

It’s almost like Vanitas wants to become someone he’s not. He wants to act a certain way (to prevent even more pain?), but, ultimately, he cannot. It’s even funny how he fails spectacularly on keeping his expression “blank, without information” because even when he tries, his emotions all show on his face. It’s amusing how quick he is to try and cover said blunder with a laugh and a smile.

These contradictions are very deeply linked to his trauma, even if we don’t know the full extent of it it’s fairly obvious. What drives his wish to act so differently and thus his contradictions is, most of all, fear.

This part is pretty straightforward, in fact. In the end, Vanitas is afraid of forming bonds with others in fear of losing them, he knows firsthand how much it hurts (of course, he also doesn’t want anyone to discover his past). But that’s not all, remember how I mentioned that Vanitas’s expression only darkened in the clock tower (chapter 11) scene when Noé said he had decided to stay with him…? Well… I think Vanitas might think he brings misfortune to whoever gets involved with him. Like he is some symbol of disaster and doom that does nothing but kill those around him. If people care for him, they will suffer, but if they hate him, they will be completely fine.

Despite his insistence of being detached to all people and being a cold asshole because that’s what he must do, to avoid getting hurt, to avoid having weak points, he also craves so very badly for intimacy. He wants to be close to someone, to make an impression on someone. After all, during his whole life I doubt he truly had any meaningful relationships with others. But love only results in pain in the end, so what other strong emotion is left? Of course, it’s hatred.

Aaand this brings us to the last section of this analysis! May be a tad biased and controversial, but as I said, this is merely my opinion and I’m just as much of a random person on the internet as you! My opinion is no better than yours.

3. Vanitas’s relationships: Mainly Noé and Jeanne

As I said above, Vanitas wishes fervently to have some kind of relationship with someone, no matter which type. Since love is a no-go, he opted towards having someone feel intense hatred towards him. Because a strong emotion is a strong emotion, isn’t it? After all, hatred must be better than indifference.

Getting this out of the way, I do not think Vanitas truly loves Jeanne as of chapter 39. It’s glaringly obvious he does not, his way of showing true affection is not the way he does with Jeanne. The way he acts around her is much closer to the façade he tries to be. As I see it, this ties into Vanitas’s wish to explore intimacy and affection, even if a broken, twisted kind of. Another proof of this is that he doesn’t push her away like he does with people he knows he’s starting to grow fond of, but instead keeps her closer.

That is exactly due to the belief that she will always, always hate him, and so, there is absolutely nothing to fear. He can explore all these things and experience being the brunt of a person’s intense feelings without any consequences.

This is a very harsh thing to say, but I think Vanitas is using Jeanne as a “convenient female” he accused Dominique of being to Noé.

It’s also worth noting that in the one chapter he truly got somehow intimate with Jeanne he tried to avoid it in many ways, even trying the usual “flirting” to purposefully gross her out. By the way, can I just point out that this scene truly shows just how estranged from affection he is? He has none of the suave façade, he’s a blundering mess.

About the topic of whether Jeanne likes Vanitas or not, my answer is, too, a clear no as of chapter 39. Vanitas and Jeanne together are a combination that spawns all the disaster on earth, considering how manipulative and emotionally stunted Vanitas is, and how gullible and affection starved Jeanne is. It’s a recipe for disaster. Jeanne is not used to affection, she was mistreated during most of her life, treated as something below humans and vampires due to a thing that was completely out of her control, and then, melting at any sort of affection, no matter how twisted the person may be.

To be fair, I think overall Vanijeanne will develop immensely, and their relationship will grow into something else, more healthy? Who knows! I just think it’s undeniable that in the future Jeanne will have a big, big impact on Vanitas and vice versa. (Disclaimer: I will not tolerate any ship hate whatsoever and everyone is allowed to ship whatever they want regardless of the nature of said ship).

Shifting the focus away to Noé and Vanitas for now, there are some little things I would like to talk about and juxtapose with Vanijeanne, since parallels are my thing.

Parallels between Vanoé and Vanijeanne may not even exist and are just my mind overthinking (hell if this whole post isn’t just a big overthinking) but I would like to talk about what my sleep deprived mind came up with. First off, I think it’s safe to say that Vanoé’s relationship is depicted as complete opposites, opposite worldviews, personalities, fuck even color palettes! And the story as it is shows that they bring the absolute best out of each other and learn by staying by the other’s side. The whole narrative pushes the two halves of a whole idiot a lot.

Noé is naive, pure, idealistic but still possesses certain “selfishness” (like how he felt he was selfish when Louis died but he lived), while Vanitas is cunning, wicked, cynical and would throw his own life away for one corn chip. It’s like they were two people fated to meet.

Vanitas and Jeanne, on the other hand… are kind of similar, but only in certain ways, mostly due to trauma. Jeanne, too, only lives for a sole objective, the same way Vanitas clings to life using his self assigned duty to cure curse bearers. Jeanne and Vanitas both, are people who have essentially gave up on life, on the world, and on themselves. People who purposefully push themselves away from happiness, in fear of the consequences.

I think, at least right now, this is the main reason why they cannot see eye to eye (aside from Vanitas being an asshole). To understand Vanitas and reach out to him, one must see him with “love”. Without love, Vanitas’s struggles, trauma and suffering cannot be seen. If you look at him with eyes full of hatred, he’ll be exactly who he wants to be seen as; a cold, heartless bastard who toys with people and cares for no one other than himself. Jeanne doesn’t have the ability to see the world as purely as Noé does. She cannot find love even in seemingly irredeemable people such as Vanitas. Yet, at least.

That’s the main reason why I think Vanitas isn’t afraid of being near Jeanne, and that’s the main reason why Noé is probably such an… illogical existence to Vanitas. Vanitas, too, cannot see love in the world, and yet, Noé does. Noé catches every single small detail about him:

Whew! That was… one big fucking post! If you’ve reached this point, thank you! I write meta for fun only and to share my interpretations for you guys! Also, the last bit probably sounded very ship hate-y but I swear this was absolutely not my intention.

Actually, the true meaning of this whole post was that I wanted to make an Umineko reference with Vanitas no Carte and I have succeeded. Play Umineko, you guys.

#vnc vanitas #vanitas no carte #vnc #the case study of vanitas #meta #vanoé #vaninoé #vannoé #analysis #long post #vnc jeanne #noé archiviste

439 notes · View notes

crystalconjunx · 5 years ago

Text

29. Not-So-Anonymous + Glory Hole

Swerve/???

"Hey, Swerve, have you seen that hole in the solvent racks?" A bot laughed as they pulled up a seat at the bar. "Maybe you should check it out sometime."

The red minibot nearly dropped the glass he was cleaning.

"That's none of your— A what hole? Where?" Swerve sputtered.

"You know," the bot said casually. "One of those holes you stick your spike through to get sucked. Or go to suck spike, I guess." They emphasized the idea with a flicking wrist gesture.

"I'll… have to pass." He frowned.

His processor, meanwhile, was in overdrive. Afragging glory hole in the crew showers. It was only a matter of time before Magnus found out, so no point in investigating it himself, right?

Someone might assume he was there to use it. Which he definitely wouldn't be. That would be weird. No, he could go without that type of rumor floating around his name, thanks.

Aside from hearing that particularly spicy tidbit of gossip, it was a pretty normal shift at the bar. The hole slipped from his mind as soon as Tailgate and Rewind barged in to share the day's latest mischief with him.

He didn't know how he ended being the most mature of the three minibots, but he didn't mind the attention. They actually liked talking to him. It was a nice change.

Everything was going great until Tailgate and Rewind accidentally launched their hoverboard into a rack of engex bottles and sent them cascading over Swerve. He waved away the other minibots' apologies- Cyclonus would probably come in later to cover his conjunx's damages, the indulgent bastard- and sloshed away to the solvent racks to clean himself off.

He exvented a sigh of relief when he found the solvent racks empty and took his usual spot near the end of the room. It was the only one made with a raised floor so him and the other Minibots didn't have to jump up to reach the solvent controls.

He was already under the spray of warm solvent when he looked to the side and saw a dark spot out of the corner of his visored optics.

A wide hole was drilled into the side of the wall.

There it was. The glory hole. It was just like the ones he'd seen in the handful of cheap Earth porns he'd watched out of curiosity.

Unlike it's crude carved-out Earth comparisons, however, this one appeared to be perfectly cut. Someone had polished the metal smooth.

Of course, that's when the light in the adjacent stall clicked on. He immediately cut off the spray of solvent. Primus, what if someone was waiting to do something and he was holding them up? He couldn't hide in here now, could he?

That's when a message appeared on the slick metal wall above it— someone had rigged it to display light glyphs. That put the inputs in the other stall. Which meant someone was sending him a message from the other side of the hole. A few glyphs suddenly appeared on the wet wall in bright and friendly lettering.

Hey, Swerve.

"Uh, hi?" He asked aloud.

Great. Did they seem him come in here? Did they think he wanted to use the thing himself? Did they watch him shower?

Wonderful. Now he was probably about to get made fun of.

"Listen, this isn't what you think." He argued. "This is the only minibot shower and I didn't know someone had drilled a hole into the wall, okay? I'm leaving now."

Don't.

"Uhhhh… why? Do we know each other?"

Yes.

"Alright. Can you tell me who you are? And why I should stay?" He asked.

No.

"Okay, very informative, very helpful. Are you waiting for someone or something?"

You.

He let out a laugh in disbelief. "M-me? Are you sure about that? There's dozens of other mechs who I'm sure would be super on board with whatever- whatever this is, exactly, and I'm not really one of them. Why don't you find someone else?"

Don't want them. I want you.

Another nervous laugh. "Right. Sure."

I'm serious.

It's ok if you don't want to, though.

"Well… I would like to know why, at least. If you're serious, anyway. Why me?"

You're cute. You're kind. You're funny.

I've wanted to interface you for months.

"Really? Why didn't you say anything?"

I'm shy.

"Oh. I guess I can understand that. Did you… make this hole in the wall, then?"

No. But I wanted to try it with you.

Can I?

"I-I don't know. I've never had my spike sucked before. I don't know who you are or what you look like. Not that you're going to be ugly or anything! I just, I don't know..." He answered, fiddling with his servos while he waited for their response.

What if they got mad? What if they left? What if they spread nasty rumors about him?

You can suck mine.

I think about your mouth all the time.

What it might feel like around me.

"I don't really know how this works, or who you are, or if this is even a good idea… what if someone walks in?"

I locked the door behind me.

"Of course you did." He laughed breathlessly.

It's really okay if you don't want to.

I'd like to get to know you better either way.

I really do like you, Swerve.

"Well… I mean, Can I see it first? If that's okay? I've never seen anyone else's spike before. Well, not on purpose, anyway."

Sure.

But you don't have to do anything you don't want to.

Okay?

"Okay. Thanks, I guess." He said. The glyphs did comfort him a bit. Maybe they wouldn't mind too much if he totally chickened out the moment he saw their spike? They seemed really nice.

"So… wanna patch it through, then?" He winced at his own words. What was he supposed to say? It was in-character for him to be an idiot.

Anything for you.

Swerve pointedly refused to ignore how excited those particular glyphs made him. Instead, he focused on the fully pressurized spike that pressed through the hole. The mech had to be big. Much bigger than him, if the height difference between the stalls was any indication. Their spike was huge compared to his own. He couldn't recognize them from the coloration of the spike, but they certainly seemed familiar.

Primus, but he could already imagine how a spike like that would feel inside him. He wanted to know what it tasted like. He could already feel the oral lubricant warming in his mouth at the sight.

You can touch it if you want.

He gulped and raised his shaky servos, letting them hover over the spike as he tried to figure out what tk do.

He'd self-serviced plenty of times, but he'd never touched another mech's spike before. What if he did it wrong?

"I, uh, don't know where to start here," he said nervously.

That's ok. Just wrap your servos around it.

Move your fist up and down like you'd do on your own.

Swerve tried, doing his best to imagine how he serviced his own spike. Tight at the base and gentle towards the tip. It was different like this, but not too hard. His frame was still slick with solvent and the slide up and down on the spike was an easy one. The mech slowly ground their spike into his hands.

Just like that.

That's perfect, Swerve.

"It is? My hands feel okay like this?"

It feels amazing.

Please don't stop.

Spurred on by their happy glyphs, he sped up a bit and let his fingers dance across the smooth wet metal of the spike. He took his thumb and pressed upever-so-gently into the spot under the head of their spike that drove him crazy.

The heavy spike twitched happily in his servos as a bead of transfluid dribbled down the tip.

You're good with your hands.

Want to try with your mouth?

Swerve nodded reflexively before he realized the other mech couldn't actually see him.

That was good. They couldn't see how flushed he had become just from rubbing their spike for a couple of minutes, or how his own panels were practically leaking at the thought of that spike filling other parts of him instead.

"Y-yeah," he answered. "Sorry if I'm not great at this, though. Like I said, I haven't touched a spike before, let alone suck one."

Relax. You'll do fine.

Just start small. Do what comes naturally.

Swerve didn't share their faith in him, but he got down on his knees nonetheless.

The spike was even more imposing from this close. He eyed a smear of pinkish transfluid as it dripped from the head while his servo gripped the spike by the base to steady. With a nervous lick to his derma, he opened his mouth and let his lips fall around the head of the spike to taste it.

It was… not what he expected. He'd tasted his own transfluids before, sure, but spike itself didn't taste like… anything really. All he could smell in the showers now was the sweet scent of engex that had gotten too deep into his frame for the solvent to reach.

Keep going. You're doing great.

The glyphs encouragement had him moving his glossa while he let his hand take a tighter grip around the base. He felt a thick cable running along the underside and used his glossa to trace it up to his palm.

The spike twitched in his hand. That was probably a good sign, right?

He tried to make a pattern of it. He tried to recall anything from all those vids that might have been helpful. He felt around with his glossa and pressed against the sensitive clusters just underneath the delicate plating of his spike. He teased his fingers over the edge of the metal, making the mech practically throb into his mouth.

All he could think about now was how good it would feel to have that spike inside him. He keened around the spike as he imagined it inside him- long and hard, almost too big as it pushed past his seals for the first time and filled him oh so good. He wanted to imagine the mech saying all those praises to him while they were face to face, comllimenting him while they practically split him in half.

Touch yourself.

He whimpered at the commanding glyphs. He lifted his free servos and brought them down to his modesty panel.

He hadn't even noticed it open. His spike was already hard and aching as he wrapped his fist around it. He kept his other hand on the base of the spike in his mouth as he tried to thrust into his own grip.

You're doing so good for me, Swerve.

Just a little more.

The red minbot moaned against the spike as he felt the first sparks of ticklish charge shoot down his glossa and straight to his spike, overloading into his hand with a loud whine.

But he wasn't finished yet. He needed to make the mech feel good, too.

He pulled his mouth off the spike and let his hand move up to thumb at the sensitive node under the head while he pressed sloppy kisses down the side. He let the whole spike slide back into his mouth and kept going, as far as he could, until he felt it slip and catch just past the soft mesh of his intakes. He let his glossa trace that energon line again, right up to the edge of the opening where the spike stuck through and pressed against the node just barely out of reach.

He heard a loud bang on the other side of the wall just before he felt warm, sticky transfluid spilling directly into his intakes. He pulled off with a cough and fell right onto his aft.

That was… wow.

Are you alright?

"I-I'm fine," he coughed. "Was that okay?"

That was amazing.

How about you? Enjoy yourself?

"Yeah! Can we do this again sometime? I mean, face-to-face and all. I wanna meet you! I could buy you a drink sometime?" He offered excitedly. "Or ee could always hang out? I have plenty of holovids. Lots of them are from Earth, but I have other stuff, too."

I'd love to.

But not yet.

Frag. Did he scare them off somehow? Damn it all, he always managed to mess things up.

"Can you at least give me a hint?" Swerve asked desperately. He needed to know something about the mech he'd be fantasizing about for the rest of his foreseeable functioning.

You'll see soon enough.

Next time is your turn, after all.

#swerve #mtmte #tumblr please don't eat this #valveplug #kinktober #part 1 of 2 #retribution

170 notes · View notes

flutteringphalanges · 5 years ago

Photo

Mirabile Visu

Summary: Sister Agatha Van Helsing discovers she’s in over her head when a competitive game of chess ultimately results in her becoming pregnant with the child of her worst enemy, Count Dracula. Now tied by a bond deeper than blood, the two must learn to coexist and adapt in a world that could be potentially hostile towards their offspring. Parenthood has never looked so batty.

Characters: Dracula/Agatha Van Helsing

Chapter: 10 (Part Two)/?

Read on FFN and AO3

A/N: Thank you all for your kind words and ongoing support! It means the world! I hope you enjoy! I don’t want to say too much because this chapter is, well...you’ll see. Feedback is greatly loved and appreciated! -Jen

Chapter Ten (Part Two)

The Jonathan Harker Foundation

Present Time

Sorina had seen countless action movies throughout her lifetime, yet none had exactly prepared her for the situation she faced now. Within moments, several guards had found their way to their location and the halfling found herself being knocked backwards as Agatha pushed her out of the path of a loaded rifle. She stumbled, catching herself as her eyes fell on her mother, the vampire slamming the armed man into the wall.

"Go!"

It was her mother's voice that pulled the young woman from her haze. Sorina blinked, resembling a deer in the headlights as Agatha shoved two more soldiers aside. It took Jack grabbing her by the wrist and yanking her down the hall to completely snap back into reality. Gunshots sounded, but it was too unclear whether they belonged to Zoe or the Foundation. As they reached one of the doors, they were greeted by another member of the facility's security, this one burlier than the others.

"Jack, watch out!"

She had just enough time to duck as the former graduate student swung the bat, hitting the man's weapon hard. It was a short lived victory, Sorina watching in horror as the guard swung his gun, striking Jack's side as if he had been weilding a baton. There was a crunch and the young man let out a yelp of pain, gripping what she could only assume were cracked ribs.

Sorina had never understood the expression of "seeing red". But now, after witnessing the attack on him, she launched herself towards Jack's assailant. Grasping his shoulders, they crashed onto the ground. It only took a brief struggle before the halfling's foot made contact with his chin. She kicked. Hard. Once. Twice. When the man didn't move, she stepped backwards, breathing heavy and body trembling.

"Sunny?"

"Jack!" Sorina turned to the young man who moved towards her, trying to hide the wince of pain he made with each step. "Jack, I'm so sorry, are-"

"Are you okay?!"

She almost laughed at his question. At his concern as his worried eyes searched her face for any signs of discomfort. He, after all, had been the one injured. Not her. And yet here he was, only caring about her well being.

"I'm okay," she assured him. "I just...didn't think I had that energy in me." Sorina's eyes fell to Jack's hand and the area it so gingerly touched.

"I'll be fine," he said with a weak smile. "I've dealt with worse." Even though she wasn't

convinced, he nodded towards the door. "C'mon," he urged. "Let's go save your dad."

XXX

Zoe stood with her back facing the direction Jack and Sorina ran from, her gun pointed towards one of the men pinned against the wall. She'd never had official training when it came to firearms, maybe a day's worth of explanation and demonstration on how to use it properly. But she knew well enough how to unlock the safety and pull the trigger.

"Left side of the chest," Agatha grunted, nodding towards the mercenary. "Over the logo, it's a weak point."

She hesitated. The scientist couldn't help but do so. But when she caught the man reaching for his stake, she fired. The figure immediately stopped struggling and slumped forward. Agatha cast him aside as if he were a rag doll. For a nun and someone whose life was dedicated to compassion, to saving others, the vampire was far from showing it now.

"You okay?"

There was concern in the vampire's tone as Agatha knocked another guard out of the way just as they fired a bullet, the missile just missing its target-Zoe. The woman panted, nodding as nausea twisted within her. It wasn't the fact that she most likely killed someone. No. It was more so that it had been ages since her body had used this much energy. Abuse.

"Just need to catch my breath," she nodded, leaning against the wall. Her legs threatened to collapse, but she knew she couldn't allow them. Mind over matter. In the distance, she could hear the pounding of more feet. "Can you handle them alone?"

"Go help Sorina and Jack," the vampire stated as if to answer the question. "You know this place better than me."

Zoe nodded, turning on her heels and running down the hallway. It didn't take long to find the other two, Jack desperately trying to fiddle with the keypad as Sorina watched anxiously. She tried not to look at the body by her feet. Unsure if the man was alive or not. Had Sorina done that?

"I can't bloody get in," the young man sighed, smacking the numbers with his hand.

"Try 1897," the scientist suggested.

1897. If The Foundation was stupid enough to use "Dracula" as the WiFi password, than surely they would use the year that the idea for this place came to be. When Jack typed in the numbers, the square lit up a bright green and the steel doors slid open. Zoe smirked as both Sorina and Jack turned to her, grinning ear to ear.

"The Foundation may be ruthless," Zoe commented. "But when it comes to the simple things, they sure let their guard down."

Jack did his best to stand up straighter, trying to ignore the panging ache in his side. His fingers tightened around his bat and he found himself leaning against it for support. "And to think you insisted on having me hired here," he teased, attempting to light the mood as he met his mentor's stare. "I wonder if that market by my flat is still hiring."

"Oh shove off," the woman said, rolling her eyes. "You and I both know you don't regret a thing." And he followed her gaze to where Sorina stood, momentarily preoccupied with pulling her hair back.

"Yeah," he mumbled. "You're right about that."

XXX

Dracula had been pacing the length of his confinement for hours now, looking for the smallest weak point that would allow him to break free. To rescue Agatha. To kill each and every person in this facility. To destroy Bloxham. But try as he might, his luck had seemed to bottom. His stare bore into the concert ground as he heard the entrance open, sharp fingernails digging into his palms. He could only assume it was the guards who, for some reason, had hurried left the room to deal with an apparent greater issue.

"You do realize," he growled. "You cannot contain me forever and once you slip up-"

"Dad!"

His previous fumes of anger were extinguished by the familiar sound of his daughter's voice. Dracula looked up so quickly, he nearly gave himself whiplash. Though he noted both Zoe's and Jack's presence in the room, his attention fell on Sorina. Emotions. Confused. Pride. Concern. It was almost comical how fast his expression changed.

"Sorina," he began. "What are you doing here?!"

"We're going to get you out," the halfing said, hurrying over to examine the prison. "Mum's out there handling the guards. We don't have a lot of time."

"Jack," Zoe said, catching the young man's eye. "See if you can find an override switch. Without a keycard, we can't have direct access, but like I said before. The Foundation is known for its unique designs."

"While I applaud your efforts-and really, I most certainly do, I implore you to escape," Dracula insisted, frowning as Sorina's hands danced against the glass like a tree frog's sticky toes. "You and your mother leave. I'll find a way out."

"No," Sorina said, her eyes not even meeting his as she continued her relentless search. "I'm not going to lose you guys. Not again."

"I would listen to your father if I were you." The voice echoed, cold, almost sneering as the clicking sound of heels filled the room. "Well, unfortunately, leaving is no longer an option. Such a terrible situation you've put me in."

Bloxham.

Sorina turned, her back against her father's cage as the doctor entered casually inside. A glint of metal caught her eye, and it didn't take a scientist to know it was a revolver. The woman seemed to notice her gaze and peered down, lips curved into smirk.

"Oh this?" The way she said it, the way the words leaked false innocence like venom, made Sorina's skin crawl. "You can never have too much protection."

"Let them go, Dr. Bloxham."

Zoe stood near Sorina, her grip on her own gun tightening. The woman moved closer to her niece, and the halfling soon realized that she was trying to get between them. A distraction. Bloxham cocked her head a frowned, letting out a long sigh.

"You were such a good scientist, Dr. Van Helsing," the middle aged woman exclaimed. "Even with that freak of a niece you have. To actually think at one point, I respected you," Bloxham pointed the gun at Zoe. "But I guess that cancer got to your brain. What a valuable mind to-"

BAM!

Jack struck the control panel hard with his bat, momentarily distracting Bloxham. Zoe, seizing the moment, knocked the woman backwards. Her disorientation didn't last long, and soon Zoe found herself thrust downwards. The handgun clattered to the ground, and Bloxham kicked it away with her foot. The scientist stood over the other woman, her eyes leering at her in a false sense of a victory. But before even Zoe could react, Sorina threw herself between them, both women hitting the wall hard.

"Why do you have to make things so difficult?" Bloxham hissed, blood dribbling from her temple. "It's not like you even cared in the first place."

There was another bang as Jack struck the device again, only this time, it began to spark. Out of the corner of her eye, Sorina noticed the slightest of slits in the doorway of her father's cage. She needed to keep Bloxham talking. Keep her preoccupied.

"They're my parents," she growled. "I never stopped loving them. I thought they were dead."

"And you came here in some ridiculous, valiant effort with the hopes of saving them?" Bloxham inquired. "I suppose it makes sense. Except," She reached over her head and for the first time, to her horror, Sorina saw the latch that opened the ceiling. "I think you might want to rethink your goal."

"Sorina!"

The halfling couldn't identify who was screaming her name as her eyes fixated on the opening above. It was as if time slowed down, a bright, white light cascading down and engulfing her very person. She wasn't sure what to expect. Pain. Agony. But there was nothing. Absolutely nothing. And she couldn't help but grin, laugh as she gazed up at the sun for the first time. Her eyes met her father's and Dracula appeared just as mesmerized. How were they not dead?

"Huh," Bloxham muttered. "Not exactly what I was expecting." Her mouth had twitched into a small frown and Sorina, still enamored by the sun, failed to notice the woman's attention on her. "Well, I suppose there's always another way."

Without another word, the woman pointed the gun straight at Sorina and fired.

#Dracula #Dracula 2020 #Dracula on Netflix #Agatha Van Helsing #Dragatha #Dracula x Agatha #Mirabile Visu

10 notes · View notes