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invadernurse · 11 months ago

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Catching Flies (Revised) Ch. 16

Chapter 16: Reality is Subjective

Overall rating: Teen

Summary: You catch more flies with honey than vinegar. That’s what they say anyway.

Teacher!Reader makes the mistake of trying to help the two most troubled kids in your class. This leads to forming a science club, learning some childhood psychology, adopting an alien older than you, and somehow catching Professor Membrane’s interest.

Afab Non-binary Reader;

The reader does have a last name: Nemo– which means no-name.

Chapter One |Master post |Ao3

**Several minutes earlier**

"Are we going to talk about the fact you called my dad and Mx. Nemo 'my tallest?'" Dib asked, an impish grin on his face as he followed Zim, who had long let go of his hand.

"No!" Zim hissed. "As far as I'm concerned, it never happened!"

"But you did."

"I did not!"

"I was right there, Zim. You totally called them your Tallest."

"The mighty Zim makes no mistakes!" Zim suddenly stopped and spun to face Dib, his eyes narrowed at Dib's delighted expression. "Foolish Dib-stink! You think I, the mighty Zim, would lower himself to call those two meat-bags my Tallest? That I would find them intelligent and honorable enough to think of them that highly?!"

Dib didn't even waiver for a second. "You must, because that is definitely what you called them."

Zim snarled, and Dib quickly realized he might have pushed the alien a little too far. Before he could act, Zim pounced at him, tackling the boy to the ground.

"Zim! No! Get off!"

"Not until you admit defeat, Dib-stink!"

"I'm not saying it's a bad thing!" Dib defended, both verbally and physically as they wrestled each other, completely ignorant of the looks they were drawing. "My dad is the smartest human on Earth right now! And Mx Nemo's the first adult to treat us like actual people!"

"Your paternal unit doesn't even acknowledge that alien life exists, and Mx Nemo can hardly understand your primitive computer system!"

"I'm not saying they're perfect! I'm just saying I can understand why you see them as higher authorities! They treat you a lot better than your old Tallest did!"

Zim went still, sliding off of Dib and sitting despondently on the ground. Dib took the opportunity to sit up, brushing the dust off his black coat as he warily watched Zim for a few moments.

"I-I don't really mean to make fun of it," Dib admitted after a moment. "I mean, I have nothing but respect for both of them, obviously. And I guess I'm kind of…happy? Excited? That you feel the same. Because it means we aren't enemies anymore. We're friends now, right?"

"Irkens don't have friends," Zim responded, more out of reflex than anything. The despondency in expression faded, replaced with something akin to embarrassment. "But…we are partners. Allies."

Dib figured it was as close as he was going to get, and a lot more than he ever believed possible. Hell, if someone told him he was going to be friends with Zim just a few months ago, he would have called them crazy.

"Ah ha, you two must be the students from inter-city middle skool!"

Zim and Dib looked up at a…person. Both Zim and Dib narrowed their eyes at the man that looked like something far too large stuffed inside a suit made to look vaguely humanesque.

"I think that's actually worse than your human suit on peace day."

"Hey, cut me some slack! I had less than twelve of your earth hours to plan that!"

***

No. No no no. You couldn't be stuck.

"Mx Nemo?" You could hear the professor, but couldn't respond. Not as the anxiety and panic gripped at you. You weren't usually claustrophobic but the bright blinding whiteness and cramped space as you tucked in closely to Professor Membrane's large frame, and your fears jumped at the chance to consume you.

"Mx Nemo." Large, firm hands gripped your shoulders, grounding you somewhat. You stared up at him, able to see his eyes clearly through his goggles, dark eyebrows knitted in concern. "I am sincerely sorry, I realize now that was a very bad joke."

Joke. It was a joke. You slumped against him in relief, not thinking as you punched him half heartedly in the chest--his shoulder too far for your to reach. "You had me for a moment there," you admitted.

His hands still gripped your shoulder, though not quite as tightly. "Humor is not exactly one of my stronger skills," he explained rathwr weakly, which was odd coming from him.

"I'm going to get you a book of dad jokes," you joked weakly in return, still leaning against him as your heart slowly returning to normal. "Or-or science jokes. Something."

"I really am sorry."

You shook your head, looking up at him. "It's okay. But let's focus on finding the boys."

He tightened his grip for a moment before letting go. He turned, focusing on the blank wall, confusing you as he held his hand against the wall, but looking intently at his phone's display. But instead of asking, you kept silent and watched as he moved his hand along the seamless wall slowly.

Did he have some kind of tech in his glove? Considering who he was, your guess was that it was far more advanced than the shoulder-length rubber glove it looked like. It probably was able to scan all sorts of things.

"There's too much interference," Professor Membrane growled to himself, stuffing his phone away. You despaired for a moment, maybe he hadn't been joking after all, when he pulled the glove off his arm.

Oh. Oh.

Your silence becamed stunned at his prosthetic arm. The intricate finger joints moved silently and fluidly as he searched the panel. There was a small blip of green light against the white, and the panels slid apart the reveal an electrical panel.

"Well aren't you a beauty. Look at this work, Mx Nemo. Someone put a lot of time and care into wiring this. But…" The Professor's tone shifted for awe into dubious. "These flux capacitors are overkill for a simple elevator. The energy transmitting through these rival that of Membrane Labs. Why would a convention center need this kind of energy?"

"What did our boys get into this time?" You swore softly. This was not what you had imagined when you realized the pair had wandered off. Unfortunately, it was right up their alley nevertheless.

You missed Professor Membrane's glance at your (unintentional) choice of words. "They'll be fine," he tried to assure. "Between their intelligence and tenacity, I estimate that the chances of them being grievously harmed is less than twenty-five percent."

Those were good odds, right? You tried to convince yourself it was, but that fear and worry continued to gnaw at your stomach.

Thankfully, before you could worry to much, the doors opened, revealing another long hallway, the same bright white walls lining the hallway. Professor Membrane led the way, his phone still blinking with Dib's location.

The place was a maze, with the hallways twisting and turning, each one looking the same. You would have been lost a thousand times over.

After a few twists and turns, you could hear someone speaking in a forign language, only for Zim's unmistakable laughter to abruptly interrupt.

"You idiots! You dare try to intimidate the mighty Zim?! Ha! I'm Irken's greatest invader! Bow and tremble in fear! Tremble!"

There was more chattering as you and Professor Membrane tried to hurry. He was quickly outpacing you with those long legs of his, virtually forcing you into a run.

Whatever you expected, it wasn't Professor Membrane suddenly stopping and subsequently crashing into his back. "Well, that is...quite unexpected."

You peeked around him and paled at the aight.

Were those...koalas? Six feet tall, fuzzy grey and white with large eyes that stared directly back at you. You numbly noted the futuristic armour protecting their chest and limbs as they briefly raised on their back legs and bared their teeth in a snarl.

Koalas...did not have sharp spiky teeth. Nor were they as tall as you were. Or decked out with weapons.

"Dad! Mx. Nemo!" Dib's voice cut through your astonishment. Relief swept briefly through you as you affrimed that both boys seemed unharmed.

Then the not-koalas roared something that sounded like a foreign language towards Dib and Zim. The not-Koalas pointed weapons at both the children as well as you and Professor Membrane.

"You dare call the might Zim a liar?!" Zim spat back while Dib paled slightly. Mechanical spider-like appendages unfolded from Zim's backpack, two supporting the boy into the air while the points of the other two sizzled with red electricity. "You dare threaten the mighty Zim's Tallest?!"

"Boys!" You shouted, moving towards them only to have the Professor shove you behind him, his gloves virtually disintegrating, revealing both arms were robotic prosthetics, and vibrating with white energy.

"Children, get behind me." Membrane commanded firmly.

Zim hissed, "Invaders do not hide! We destroy those before us!"

"You're not an invader anymore!" Dib argued. "You're one of us now!" Zim's response was just a sibilant hiss.

"I am so confused," you admitted from behind Membrane, peering behind him. Space Koalas. Robotic arms and spider limbs.

"I think we must be having a relapsing hallucination from memebraclets." Membrane admitted, though he sounded really doubtful.

"Yeah, I still doubt that was the real story," you said distractedly. "I never had one or was around it, and I still remember everything too clearly."

"Well, with the only other explanation would be that were actually intelligent life, and we went through multiple wormholes and possibly even a blackhole. Which is scientifically impossible."

"Aliens are real, dad!" Dib interjected loudly, gesturing to the non-koalas. "This is real! Not a crazy dream! They are here to abduct the smartest, most imaginative children to use as computers!"

"Their disgusting habits are known through the galaxy," Zim spat. "They deserve to be obliterated from exsistance."

"We were trying to convince them to leave peacefully." Dib stressed.

You were so confused. You had started looking for them expecting they had wandered off exploring or getting into trouble.

But. Aliens. So absolutely alien. The implications that this summer was real. The red sky with planets hanging heavy in the sky. The alien ships. The endless void of a black hole.

Feeling like you were being ripped apart atom by atom and compressed into an infinitely small point at the same time.

"It was real?" You whispered.

"No. No, it couldn't be real," Professor Membrane stated firmly, shaking his head. "This can't be real. It's scientifically impossible. We would have seen signs, discovered radio signals, something." There was a desperate denial in his tone as Membrane clenched his fists.

The alien-koalas made a noise that sounded like a laugh, interspersed with guttural clicks and growls. Zim snickered while Dib protested. "What?! Are you serious? All of that was a joke? You've been purposely avoiding humans?!"

"Well, to the intelligent beings of this quadrant, you aren't exactly that sharp. Playing with lesser beings is quite amusing," Zim chimed with a snicker, only adding to the confusion.

Dib had accused him at first of being an alien… but surelt not. Surely not. "No. No way." You hadn't befriended and taught an alien for that several months.

Yet it was making so much sense. The advanced knowledge, being abandoned. The technology. Dib was the son of the world's most intelligent man, but Zim…

Or was this actually a dream and that's why it was making sense? It felt so real, but didn't all dreams? You were so confused and torn, and you had the feeling Membrane next to you was just as lost judging by his stiff posture and heavy silence.

Just...just focus on what was important, and leave all those questions for later. Whether it was a dream or not, you had to focus on the here and now and worry about the implications afterwards.

"Leave them alone," you commanded with more bravery than you felt as you stepped forward, away from the protective form of Professor Membrane. You heard him whisper your name, quiet enough you were sure that it was an unintentional slip. You squared your shoulders and glared with as much authority as you could muster. "You leave those boys alone and leave this planet."

The alien-koalas growled, clicking their teeth.

"You dare threaten my Tallest!" Zim hissed, the energy at the end of his mech-spider legs flaring and threatening to fire. "You dare threaten the mighty Mx. Nemo?"

"Hallucination or not, I cannot allow harm to come to my son, his friend, or Mx. Nemo."

There was something encouraging about being flanked by a tall, broad-shouldered scientist with two mechanical arms whirring as they powered up, and a possible alien with lasers. Dib seemed to feel the same as he stepped between you and his father, looking rather stern faced as well.

Except, instead of being threatened, the alien-koalas just chittered, a mocking kind of chittering that set your nerves on edge.

The place erupted into laser fire. There was no time to think, only react. You grabbed Dib and pulled him behind the sturdy frame of his father, protecting him as best as you could. Sparks and fires erupted as energy blasts landed all around the control room.

"Get out of here!" Professor Membrane shouted. The way you came was clear, so you dragged Dib with you towards the corridor.

"Zim! Come on!" You and Dib shouted once you reached to safety of the corridor.

"Invaders don't run away!" He snarled back, zapping the control panel which burst with a shower of sparks.

"You're not an Invader, you're my student!"

That made Zim pause, and it was all the Professor needed. He fired a shot rather reminiscent of an anime character before grabbing one of Zim's robotic legs and yanked the boy off balance and towards the corridor. He tumbled, the legs retreating into his pak, and before he recovered, you plucked him off the ground, holding him as if he was half his (assumed???) age as you ran down the hall, barely aware of where you were going. All you cared about was getting away from the cacophony of explosions and making sure Dib was keeping up beside you.

Shortly, however, he too was scooped up as Professor Membrane caught up with you. "This way!" He commanded, turning a corner. "Their systems are more volatile than anticipated."

"It's possible we may have activated the self-destruct," Zim said, holding on to you while looking behind. "Or that they did, realizing they had been defeated by the mighty Zim!"

"Not sure we won this one," Dib chimed. You were inclined to agree with him, but it was taking all you have to keep with the Professor's pace while carrying Zim. Your legs and lungs burned, but you kept pushing yourself harder.

Thankfully, there was another corner and the elevator appeared. Or at least an elevator. You all but collapsed against the wall while Membrane jammed the call button.

Except the doors opened to reveal a void instead of the blinding white elevator from before. "Where's the elevator?"

"Not above us," was Professor's answer as he peered into the darkness. "And neither can I detect it below us. I'm not sure if I possess enough power to carry all of us out…"

"Get the boys out," was your automatic response. Especially as you could both hear and feel explosions and fire creeping closer. You tried not to think of what was going to happen to you, and focused on the students safety. The innocent people above. "Just--get them out. Evacuate the building."

Professor Membrane looked back at you, managing to convey his concern. "I find myself wanting to reject that idea despite the fact it's logical."

"We are not leaving you," Dib agreed with his father.

"You humans are disgustingly stupid sometimes," Zim growled as he extended his spiderlegs once more and grabbed Dib. "I trust you can at least carry Mx. Nemo?"

"I-I'm not sure about this," Dib panicked, but Zim neither gave him nor Professor Membrane time to say anything before jumping into the void, the spindly robotic legs quivering as they caught both his and Dib's weight before skittering upwards like a true spider.

"This hallucination is stranger than the last."

"God, I hope this is a crazy dream," you agreed before another explosion drew closer. This felt so real that you didn't have the courage to test out that theory.

Yet, at the same time, you weren't sure what Professor Membrane's plan was, and you were too nervous to ask.

"Right dream or not," Professor turned towards you, arms open. "Shall we?"

"Er…" was your very eloquent response as you stepped closer.

"I haven't carried anyone besides my children, so I do apologize in advance," was his response before suddenly lifting you up, one hand bracing your back and the other beneath your knees as he held you close.

Your squeak turned into a scream as he stepped into the elevator shaft, dropping sharply. There was a click and suddenly you were shooting upwards. All you could do was clutch to Professor Membrane's neck and bury your head into his shoulder, barely aware of him gripping you a little tighter in response.

After what felt like forever, the ascent slowed. You looked up and saw the faint light shining from the elevator doors that had been forcibly pried open. Emergency lights strobed, the sirens overwhelmed as by yelling and screaming in the Expo building as people hurried for the exits.

Professor Membrane set you down, though his hand quickly grasped yours as you both made your way towards where the boys were. They were hard to miss, considering Zim’s mad cackle and the Rover drove circles around them, fire erupting from one of his robotic arms.

“Really?” you panted as you reached the pair, gasping for breath. Rover stopped, the fire cutting off quickly. You weren’t even sure who your exclamation was pointed at, but Dib only gave a half hearted shrug as patted the Rover on its head.

“We didn’t know how else to evacuate everyone. They were all standing around even after we pulled the fire alarm.”

“Now they run in fear of the mighty Zim! And Dib!” Zim was quick to tack on as soon as the other boy glanced at him.

“I think this conversation would best be continued outside,” Professor Membrane interrupted before Dib could respond. The phone that had tracked Dib was now emitting a shrill alarm of its own. “This structure is highly likely to collapse from the impending seismic activity.”

The ground rumbled beneath your feet, faint at first but quickly growing until you were having to hold on to Professor Membrange to keep from falling over.

“Run!”

Dust and debris rained down as you tried to navigate your way out of the expo center, through the maze of long abandoned science projects. IF it wasn;t for the fact Professor hadn’t let go of your hand as he more or less dragged you behind him, you were sure you would have gotten lost. Though, you could faintly make out the light flashing off Zim’s robotic spider legs as he raced over the displays, and the Rover, carrying Dib, weaving through the tables like it was nothing.

The doors opened to a sunny afternoon, yet the chaos had spread outside. People were scattering everywhere, panicked screams and crying filling the air. The tremors were becoming noticible further and further away from the building, to the points cracks were forming in the pavement under your feet.

A large one in particular formed that Professor Membrane just easily strided over with his long legs, but instinct quickly stopped you in your tracks as it screamed you wouldn't make it. Your hand slipped from his and you slid to a stop, harshly landing on you butt.

The crack just kept growing larger and larger, steam, or maybe it was smoke, escaping with a hiss.

"Mx. Nemo!" All three boys called out, having quickly noted your absence. They were moments away from taking the leap themselves. That was all the encouragement you needed. You backed up a few steps before rushing forward and jumping over the gap.

And, as you feared, you didn't make it. You felt yourself fall before you could reach the other edge, just shy of brushing the jagged rock. Below you could feel heat rise from whatever was exploding below to cause the mock-earthquake.

Several somethings grabbed you from mid air, yanking you up and slamming you against the concrete on the other side before you could scream.

You blinked as Zim's spider legs retreated and the three looked down at you. "Ow."

#invader zim #professor membrane #enter the florpus #dib membrane #catching flies #invaderzim #catching flies fic #invader zim zadf #professor membrane x reader #invader zim fic

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evermorehqs · 2 years ago

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CATCHING MY BREATH, STARING OUT AN OPEN WINDOW

Jubileena Bing is based on Jubileena Bing-Bing from Wreck It Ralph. She is a 22 year old human, cosmetics sales rep, and uses she/her pronouns. She has no powers. Jubileena is portrayed by Mikey Madison and she is taken.

CATCHING MY DEATH, AND I COULDN’T BE SURE

You attract more flies with honey than vinegar. While she wasn’t sure if that saying is true, it didn’t take Jubileena long to realize that it was easier to persuade people with kindness than anything else, even if it was all a front. Genuineness didn’t matter, most were too dumb to see through it. It hardly took any convincing. People were quick to accept a sweet, young girl at face value. She was the apple of her parents’ eyes, teachers loved her, and she never had any trouble making friends; she could just buy them if she needed to. Getting exactly what she wanted when she wanted it was not a struggle, she knew how to play the game and look good doing it. She never left her house without perfectly manicured nails and red lips, not a strand of hair out of place... except for on the track. Drag racing was the one place she could be her true, cutthroat self, without having to worry about people judging her. No, they rooted for her. Looking for ways to connect with Jubileena, her father convinced her to try it out at seven years old. She she wasn’t into the idea at first, but it only took one race for the hobby to completely take over her life. There was no question that she would get involved with the Sugar Racers shortly after her arrival to Evermore. It wasn’t the same kind of racing she was used to, but that hardly mattered to Jubileena. She had found her people. Most of them were as brutal as she was, though they didn’t hide it as well. If you asked her, they were lacking control. The thing was, she didn’t care so much about winning, she just had fun flying around the curves and edging the others into walls. Life was another story. While she viewed it as competition as well, there was more at stake than a silly little ribbon with #1 painted on it. Tiffany may have been obsessed with being the best on the track, but the blonde seemed to miss the bigger picture. Fame and trophies were an added bonus, but it meant nothing without the money and intelligence to back them up. Without her dad around to fund her every desire, she wound up with a job as a cosmetics sales rep, manipulating customers into paying for the highest brand to cushion her own pocket, and it made her more than enough to live comfortably. Jubileena isn’t entirely sure what her goal is yet, but once she figures it out, she’s damn sure that everyone better watch their backs.

I HAD A FEELING SO PECULIAR

❀ Mertle Edmonds: Poor Mertle is just about as helpless as girls come, but she’s sure that she can find a way to spin that to benefit her. Even though Jubileena really can’t stand the other girl, for the time being, she’s staying on her good side. ❀ Catherine Shire: It isn’t often that Jubileena idolizes anyone other than herself, but there’s something mystical about Cat that leaves her starry eyes. It isn’t that she wants to be her, but maybe, just maybe, she wants to be underneath her. ❀ Bobby Zimuruski: He might just be her favorite play thing, one of many boys to flirt with to pass the time. She’s sure she will persuade him eventually, and it only makes it more exciting to believe she could crush him under her heel with ease.

THAT THIS PAIN WOULD BE FOR EVERMORE

#disney rp #mikey madison #wreck it ralph #jubileena bing bing #sugar racers #female bio #no powers #taken bio #taken female

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katelynn-a-fan · 3 months ago

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Crackle of Your Voice Chapter 1

Masterlist

The first thought that passed through his mind was Pain.

He was racked with a strange combination of searing stabs around various parts of his skin mixed with the general ache that seemed to permeate his entire body.

Groaning involuntarily, the stabs of pain got worse as he tried to shift his body from its uncomfortable position on the cold, flat ground.

Blinking the haze of darkness away, he took in his surroundings as his sluggish mind begun to whir back to life to assess where he was.

Where am I? I was . . . I don’t . . . I don’t remember how I got here. But I know who I am. My name is Patton. Patton curled his fist as he tried to leverage himself up from the ground, but failed. His body protested as the impact only worsened the pain he was experiencing.

Eyes searching the narrow slice of the space he was in from the floor, all that was visible was a blank, gray cinder block wall rising up and out of sight.

That could be a lot of places . . . Am I at my school and one of the parents is holding me hostage? I . . . don’t hear children! Patton’s breathing caught as he, for just one moment, feared something had happened to them.

That was why, when Patton was pushing himself up despite his bodies protest and stumbling in the first direction he could, Patton’s collision with the cell bars of the room he was in had Patton flailing and colliding back with the ground for the second time in the mere moments he had been awake.

Groaning once again as the collision happened, the new pain radiating momentarily through him had a soft whine coming from his lips. He shook his head, continuing more gently as the stars floating through his vision danced as he did so.

Okay, so definitely not at the school. This . . . could be a jail, but . . . normally you would be in a much bigger cell, right?

Slowly crawling to the wall, Patton let his heavy breathing settle. He propped himself gently up into a sitting position on the wall. In doing so, the full appearance of the cell was evident to him.

Indeed, the walls surrounding him were the gray cinder block of his youth and of his volunteer work. The cell bars again did make it appear more like a jail. But given the metal bat that was displayed proudly on the wall, it was very unlikely that it was a jail.

Definitely not a jail. No one would give inmates the opportunity to hurt them or others so readily. Patton pursued his lips as the incongruencies of his surroundings troubled him.

Patton was trapped in a cell . . . with a metal baseball bat nearby . . . and was not in a governmental facility . . .

Oh.

He’d been kidnapped!

Perhaps he would have realized it before, but really, all the pain racking his body made it hard to think.

Thankfully, his next thoughts came rather quickly.

So I’ve been kidnapped . . . but why have I been kidnapped? Did one of the parents of the kids I volunteer for have a grudge against me? I’ve never crossed someone who didn’t fight me first! And lord knows you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.

Nothing.

There was no reason he could think of for why he was in this situation. And that might even be worse, because at least when he did something wrong he could apologize. Whoever had taken him wasn’t nice, they took him just because they could. He’d had some friends when he was in elementary school who did some similarly mean things because they could. But they were all the enemies who he’d hadn’t made friends of yet.

Patton only hoped that whoever this enemy was, that he was one of the easier friends to show how wrong it is to be enemies.

So that’s what he did.

As the minutes ticked by, Patton filled his head with ideas of how to change his kidnappers mind.

Would cookies work? Probably not alone. The cookies worked for his elementary school friends, but adults are more complicated than elementary school students. Gifts might work . . . but where he might get the supplies for a heartfelt card, he didn’t know.

Talking would also work, but Patton needed to know more about his kidnapper before he tried going straight to that.

Patton sighed.

I wish everyone would just get along. We all want similar things . . . we don’t have to fight over things we could all get anyway.

No matter how hard Patton wished that wish, it never had come true. It never stopped him from trying though. His momma had always said that he was the strangest kind of stubborn she’d raised.

Running his fingers absentmindedly along the ground, he let these ideas fill his thoughts.

That was until his stomach growled in protest, Patton’s face pinching at the sensation.

“I’m kind of hungry,” Patton murmured out loud to the air, ignoring the hoarseness it contained. His hand that was on the ground came up to his stomach as if he could stop his hunger in its tracks.

At the same moment, a small plink sounded near Patton. Patton whipped his head quickly around to see what could’ve made such a sound. He found nothing but the same gray, cinder block walls.

Grunting slightly, Patton, calm and slow, gripped the cell bars once again. He pressed his face gently into the bars this time, craning himself as much as he could to find anything else that could be in the space with him.

Again, nothing.

The strange sound matched nothing he could see, the hallways containing nothing and not even the faintest breeze that could disturb the silence of the hallway was there.

Face still pressed against the bars, Patton closed his eyes.

He let his mind drift back to the ways he could help his kidnapper as well as idly wondering why he might be in a cell in a deserted hallway.

If this is the only cell they need, why is it in a hallway? This layout doesn’t really make sense. . .

They surely only had him right-?

“A little weak there, Meat?”

Patton’s body jerked, the skin of his face quickly pinched between the bars as he did so. His eyes flew open to see the yellow stained grin of a man beyond the bars of his cell. Groaning quietly, Patton sat back as subtly as he could as he met the eyes of this man.

How did I-

“How’d you not hear me? Is that what you’re thinking?” The man’s unsettling grin grew ever wider. He slapped his knees as the man rose to his full height. He’d. . .. Been kneeling? Wait, of course the man had been kneeling if he was so close.

“I get that a lot. But, you get used to training yourself in certain ways around here.” The man flipped the baton that had been hidden from Patton until now. The baton flipped twice before solidly landing back in this man's palm. “You can call me Victor. And just so you know, that’s not my name.” Victor winked.

“I’ll see you around, Dead Meat.” Victor chuckled with a creepy smirk before walking off out the door to Patton’s right. Was it where Victor came from first?

Wherever Victor did come from, Patton didn’t have long to ponder as the door on the left burst open in a sudden burst of commotion. Through the door spilled two individuals who bore a striking resemblance to prison guards, yet not exactly, evident from their pressed and identical uniforms. They moved with a sense of purpose, flanking a much more well-groomed man who exuded an air of authority. His piercing gaze locked onto Patton, which enveloped him with an unsettling intensity that hinted at his status as perhaps the Leader. A. . . Mr. Leader

“Your name is Patton Morale, correct?” Mr. Leader barked. “Teaches at Fair Highland Elementary? Runs the local bakery on his off hours?”

Patton’s veins filled with ice.

They. . .

They knew.

#coyv #coyv chapter 1 #patton sanders #sanders sides

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mochamamii · 3 years ago

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yandere!nct dream: being bratty.

▹ a/n: hello everyone, it feels good to be posting again, please forgive the lack of posts as of late, also thank you so much @kp0p10v3r2 for the request, sorry this took me so long, I hope this is close to what you were expecting!

▹ triggers: yandere!au, unhealthy/toxic relationships

▹ pairing: nct dream x reader

Mark isn’t the type of yandere that this will work on. He’s not amused by your sudden bratty behavior at all and truthfully it’s somewhat of a turn off for him. He sees it as childish and unnecessary, if there’s something you need or want you can just talk to him rather than lash out and break the rules. Mark will intentionally ignore or avoid you as a result because he doesn’t want to encourage your bad behavior further. He needs you to know this act won’t work in the way you had initially planned.

“Get some manners and then maybe I’ll start talking to you again, if you need something more from me then you’d better learn how to ask for it like a grown adult rather than throw a tantrum like a toddler, only one will get you the results you’re looking for.

Renjun is the last type of yandere that this sort of trick will work on. He’s super perceptive and will instantly see right through you, if it’s attention you want, it’ll be the last thing you get behaving the way that you are. Renjun will lock you up for a while to give you some alone time to think, he’s more than willing to give his darling some attention but you’ll have to learn to ask properly first.

“Good girls get rewarded, not bad girls. Some time locked away in your closet will give you all the time you need to come up with a decent apology, don’t you think?”

Jeno is unamused by your new bad behavior. He hates when you defy him in anyway, it’s more of a bore or a nuisance rather an obstacle. It takes so little effort for him to over power your or beat you at your own mind games, quickly destroying any sign of resistance or fire within you. Occasionally, when you start behaving like this he’ll let your behavior go unchecked just to see how far you’re willing to go before putting a stop to it.

“Sweetheart..don’t you get tired of this? I know I do. When will you realize just how weak you are compared to me? Stop your bratty act now before I give you a reminder of just how easy it would be for me to destroy you.”

Haechan unlike Jeno…is very amused. A little too amused for your liking. Haechan’s eyes light up and his heart beat quickens whenever you begin behaving like this. Taming you, just happens to be his favorite game. Haechan loves when you give him the chance to make you his prey. Any glimmer of strength or courage you had before is overshadowed by Haechan’s zeal. He’ll be so excited and eager to win whatever twisted “game” he thought the two of you were playing that he’d even be encouraging your bad behavior.

“Baby? Are you trying to sneak out of the window? Well…don’t let me stop you! Let’s see how far you can get before I catch you! If I win, I get to have you any way I want, if you win- well we both know that won’t happen. Start running, I’ll even give you a head start.”

Jaemin will be somewhat inconsistent in his reaction. A part of him likes to see you act this way because he can see straight through your scheme, he knows his attention is what you truly want and that makes him feel good, being wanted by you. But he also wishes you’d just ask him outright rather than make trouble for him, he has rules in place to protect you but he can’t do that if you’re constantly wandering about places breaking them.

“Princess, how about you stop with the act? You’ll catch far more flies with honey rather than vinegar, use your words and be a good girl and I’ll have no problem fulfilling your every request.”

Chenle can’t let your behavior go on without his interference. The minute you start to show signs of defiance he’s quick to nip it in the bud, stopping you before your little tirade can go further. The more you resist the more overbearing he becomes so in a way I guess you got your wish. Chenle might not catch on immediately that you’re acting out for attention but the minute he does he’ll change his approach.

“Had you not tried to sneak off without saying a word I might’ve let you go and see your friends this weekend, but now I guess you’re trapped here inside with me instead…Are you smiling?”

Jisung will be at a lost for what to do, especially if you suddenly begin acting bratty out of nowhere. Rather than use brute force to intimidate you he’ll want to talk it out, and honestly see why you’re so upset. When it comes to you Jisung is a gentle giant. You’re too precious for him to ever be irrationally angry or upset with you. He wants the two of you to always get along and never fight so if it’s as simple as you just needing a little more attention he has no problem providing that for you.

“Babe, how about you unlock the door and come out so we can talk? I’m not sure why you’re so upset but whatever it is we can fix it, ok?”

#nct yandere #yandere nct #yandere kpop #nct smut #kpop yandere #kpop smut #lee haechan #nct dream yandere #yandere nct dream #nct dream reactions #lee jeno #huang renjun #zhong chenle #park jisung #mark lee #na jaemin

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killerpenguinn · 2 years ago

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would you mind talking about who your oc, Alicia is? ☺️☺️☺️

A very well dressed women is eying you from across the club. She’s been staring at you all night, and her dark eyes beckon you to come over to her and say hello. A little intimidated by her very expensive looking clothes and pristine makeup and hair, you hesitate and suddenly the woman is strutting over to you with a walk so confident, people seem to move out of the way subconsciously, not even realizing what they are doing. Still gobsmacked from watching her move, suddenly the woman is standing in front of you, and she looks to be in her early to mid 20s, now that she’s this close to you. You swallow, your mouth suddenly dry. Why were you still intimidated?! She’s right here! Say something!

You open your mouth to finally speak, but the woman cuts you off, offering her well manicured hand to you to shake or kiss, maybe both, as she speaks, her voice smooth like red velvet as she says, “My name is Alicia Scott, but you can call me Ali. Can I buy you a drink? Or are you getting this round for us?”

Meet my murder OC, Alicia Scott! She’s 26 and the Heiress to the Scott Foundation that her Uncle Jim owns and manages (another murder OC). Born in Atlanta, GA, Ali grew up with some ‘very not so loving and not always there emotionally and physically’, parents. While her father, John “Johnny” Scott, was a very very successful Stock Broker, he wasn’t the most caring dad in the world, and her mother, Jessica Langley Scott, while a very successful tv actress, dreamed of bigger roles and was too obsessed with her dreams to really pay Ali much mind.

Left to her own devices, Ali acted out to get attention, and when that stopped working, she manipulated people into being her friends, and used her groupies to crush anyone who opposed her. But you catch more flies with honey than you do vinegar, as her daddy always said, so Ali was as sweet as a pound cake! Who cares if she hurt and killed small animals for fun and dissected them to see how accurate the internal organs were to her science books? Or how she obsessively watched doctor dramas, trying to find one that balanced the love and drama with the accurate surgery bits? That’s normal teenage stuff, right?

Right after Ali turned 18, her father John shot himself, leaving his entire fortune to his only child and Daughter, Alicia. Jessica immediately convinced her daughter to move them out of Atlanta and out west to Los Angeles, California, where her mother immediately got picked up for bigger roles in both TV and Movies. Now more alone than ever after her fathers death, Alicia was “saved” by her Uncle Jimmy, who was in the top 10% of the wealthiest men in America, and who had no children of his own, but needed an heir to his empire, as he wasn’t getting any younger.

Happy that she didn’t have to take care of her daughter anymore, Jessica happily let her daughter follow after her Uncle Jim, and with that Alicia began her true calling as an heiress, a lovely lady in the spotlight that she so desperately craved, and as an adult suddenly gaining the “stable” and loving father figure she had wanted all of her life!

Not very mentally stable himself, Jim taught Ali how to box/kickboxing, took her on camping trips in the wilderness of Canada, taught her how to defend her self, how to use a gun, knives, and tasers, how to keep up a good image, and most importantly, how to lie and kill and get away with it “Scott free” as Jim jokingly put it.

Ali, now an adult, comes across some lovely grunge tapes made by a German man with a pleasant voice. Finally realizing that she can put her skills her Uncle Jimmy taught her to good use AND live out her fantasies of killing people for an audience that will forever adore her, Alley_Kat69 was born.

Capturing victims (usually people who’s pronouns are she/her and are biologically women), Ali sexually and physically abuses her victims live on camera for her adoring fans who pay her well to torture her victims the way they (and herself) want. Does Alicia know what she’s doing is wrong? Of course she does! Does she care? Fuck no.

Who knows, maybe she will even keep you as a pet/companion if she’s lonely enough! :)

Ali is an example (to me) of how women can be just as dangerous as men. With the rise of social media, twitch streamers, and influencers, I wanted to make a terrifying case of a woman who has the money, means, power, and smarts to capture you, her victim, and you probably won’t even know you are done for until you wake up in her basement!

Ali goes for victims who are shy, easily flattered, female (lesbian porn is fetishized after all), and usually easy to fool. Ali will even PAY men to drug your drink and harass you, so she can swoop in and “save” you from them, and she’ll even call you a “cab” so you get home safely!

Note that Ali can and does one night stands! If you are just as confident as her she’s happy to bring you home and sleep with you! Just don’t go snooping around too much the next morning or you might become her victim instead of a really good night! ;)

You could even become friends with her and never know about her double life as a horror porn star. Or maybe you do know about it and don’t care, like Ali does?

#btd #minors dni #Alicia Scott #murder oc #btd oc #tpof oc #boyfriend to death #btd2 #no minors please #the price of flesh #Hope you like her!#I do feel she’d happily talk to Sarin in a club!#or a bar!#or wherever your murder oc happens to hang out!

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diamondcitydarlin · 3 years ago

Text

A lot of people are saying and talking about this, but I thought I'd maybe also help give some direction to 'taking action'. If you're choosing to interact with people on social media regarding queer representation for Loki's character and/or representation of a romantic component to Lokius, please bear in mind that it ultimately comes down to the corporations themselves whether these decisions are given the green light, I'm talking executives in suits that aren't going to be active on social media in the same way the cast and crew are.

Perhaps not a total shock, but no, sending hate, vitriol to the cast and crew is not only unnecessary and cruel, it's actively harmful to everyone's ends. I realize there's writers and directors that made decisions, I realize Tom is an executive producer, etc etc etc, that said, all of the decisions they make have to be approved by the executives and suits I mentioned above (those who direly protect the Disney/Marvel brands), and many of the things we ended up seeing in the final product were probably from notes those same executives sent back on scripts that the writers then had to do their best to incorporate. Many, many things may have been cut by the same people. I've been there, trust me.

So how does one successfully campaign and ask for better representation than what we're getting? We make them know how much we want it, and there are many ways of doing that. Marketing looks at fan works, marketing looks at what fans are engaging with the most, talking about the most.

To be clear, I'm not saying send shipping material directly to Tom and Owen. Please don't do that either unless either one of them explicitly requests it somewhere.

What I'm saying is to keep creating. Keep cosplaying. Keep writing fanfics and drawing fanart, put it on social media, tag it with #Loki and # Lokius, keep writing meta. As I've written in an earlier post, I don't think it's a coincidence at all that Lokius shares certain traits with another popular Loki pairing, Frostmaster, that became super visible in its time. They look at these things, they take notes from how fans are engaging with the subject material.

I'm also not saying this is a surefire way to force representation through, but I do know that even in this business one catches more flies with honey than with vinegar (I've seen past toxic fan campaigns against production companies get used as justification for not doing the thing). As tempting as it is, as frustrating as it is, I believe there are more impactful ways of getting one's voice across.

So, yes- create. Uplift. Retweet art, tag your creations, make the idea of queer Loki visible where it can be seen by those who would be interested.

This goes beyond one pairing, of course. This goes into the completely human desire of wanting to see oneself reflected in the mainstream art we consume, the desire to see one's reality normalized in a place where everyone can see and maybe even better understand. And it's ok to be frustrated right now, because you do deserve better, but remember that you still have a very loud voice here and it's being listened to even if it doesn't always feel that way.

#lokius #hopefully this helps #even if just a little bit #im saying flood those tags with beauty

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dollarstoreghostie · 3 years ago

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Can I request a headcannon with asa and jesse with a reader who has hetrochromia ( one eye piercing blue and the other piercing green ) 😊💕

Absolutely!! And my apologies for the late response, I lost my password and got locked out for a long while, but I'm back with a vengeance!! Haha

ANYWHO, A BIT OF CONTEXT

JESSE AND ASA have very very very different love styles and this translates into vastly different relationship dynamics.

FOR INSTANCE, ASA generally doesn't view people as being equal to him. Resulting from his complete disconnect and disassociation with the human race, he views people like novelties, collectables; just another predictable creature to be cataloged and added to his ever-expanding collection of life and art. But you're different- don't get him wrong, you aren't on his level, but you're not so easily replaced. You're special. There's just something about you that has him like a fly in a web. No matter how much he thrashes and tries to free himself, he becomes more entrapped in you. The way you smile and talk and the way you walk and carry yourself and care about these things he can't understand. A part of him, being the drama queen he is, longs for you to put him out of his misery and sink your fangs in— freeing him, just as the spiders do when they consume their prey, but you don't, you refuse to, he's left himself vulnerable in front of you, waiting for you to put him out of his misery.

But you never do, it infuriates him. He disconnects from you, and, in the most uncharacteristic move for him, he leaves you alone and isolates himself from you and anything that reminds him of you and it's in this self-imposed isolation that he finds life so bland without you, it's worse than just missing you, it's longing. He feels like what those old poets spoke of, you won't leave his mind, no matter how he tries, and it's even more angering, but he finds, despite his pride, just how much fondness he has come to feel for you, and love, as tacky a word as that sounds. It's all he can describe it as. Inevitably, he comes to find that despite how much he loathes being out of control that he'd prefer to keep you around. You're just, you're weird, he can't explain it or his fascination with you, but he can't get enough of you.

MEANWHILE, JESSE TAKES AN ENTIRELY STANCE; his love doesn't place you equal to him or even beneath him. You are, in many ways, viewed above him. Now- hear me out here- Jesse would never think you were capable of defending yourself, or hell, even holding your own. But you aren't a pig. You aren't disgusting. You aren't meat in the way he views his victims or nuisances in the form of the brainless yes men that surrounds him in droves, like flies above carrion hoping to have a taste of the kingdom of blood and deceit he's built for himself. You are; you're beautiful. You see things so, not simply, but guilelessly. Unlike the sheep he employs, you are kind, so kind and sweet. You would never try to use him, and he knows this. He relies on this. He can trust you, and he sees you almost like an angel, especially after the accident that disfigured him.

You didn't run from the sight of his face, and that, that did it for him. If he ever had a thought about getting rid of you beforehand. That faded the first time he melted in your hands because, through his half-blind, remaining eye, all he saw in your face was concern and empathy, not disgust, not anger, not an attempt to stay strong and hide those all-consuming, repulsive emotions. He saw the exact reason he fell so deeply for you and the same reason Jesse had spared you of a role in one of his tapes. But this kindness of yours, as much as he adores it, concerns him and infuriates him at times. In his view, HE is the only one who should be on the receiving end of your softness, HE is the only one who deserves it, and these swine, this meat, would dare try to rob him of what only he deserves. The idea is enough to make him enraged. Still, this anger is never directed at you. Instead, those around you because he views you as utterly oblivious to the disgusting habits of the meat around him. To him, you are a victim. You are so wholesome, it's the world that would try to corrupt and turn you into another pig, and he will protect you from it.

NOW, WHY BRING THIS UP, BUN? Well, the thing is, it translates directly into their very different takes on loving your beautiful and unique eyes! Because regardless of their, well, peculiarities in how they love, they will love how you look, and really your personality is what counts the most to them. REGARDLESS

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑 / 𝐀𝐒𝐀 𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐊𝐔𝐋𝐋 / 𝐉𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀𝐍 𝐒/𝐎 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐀

ASA IS FASCINATED WITH YOUR EYES. Perhaps they were what drew him to you in the first place. Scratch that, they were definitely what drew Asa to you in the first place. He had been leaving the shitty cafe outside of his university, with his first of many drinks for the day. When he'd taken a minute to catch his breath, the watery, bland and yet strangely bitter taste of the poor excuse for coffee knocking him back when he saw you pass by.

YOU DIDN'T STRIKE HIM AT FIRST, in fact, you seemed a little bland, the shade of your hair and its texture were something he had collected in droves, similarly, your skin, though breathtaking in its own right with the occasional blemish here and there, was nothing he hadn't collected before. In fact, he wouldn't have given you a second glance, if you hadn't turned to him and given him that polite smile.

THE WAY YOUR EYES GLIMMERED IN THE SUNLIGHT, THEIR MISMATCHED HUES SEEMING TO GLISTEN AS THE SHADES FRAMED THE POLITE BEND OF YOUR LIPS. He knew he had to have them - had to have you. But it wouldn't be until he watched you closer that he realized that the way he had initially thought wouldn't suffice. No, he couldn't put you into a jar or stuff you in formaldehyde. As he watched you walk home at the end of the day, the way you bobbed your head to the music, you were endearing, he didn't understand it, but you were. He'd have to hold on for you, play the long haul, as it were. And approach you as Asa far before he would collect you. It's easier to catch flies with honey rather than vinegar after all, and he'd prefer to keep you alive for now.

WHEN HE GOT YOU THOUGH, HE COULD NOT STOP STARING, it was, strange, you'd often turn and find him staring at you, his face unreadable, but his eyes speaking nothing but quiet admiration as he rode whatever train of thought seemed to have taken him at that moment.

AND FOR A TIME, YOU THOUGHT THIS MUST BE A COINCIDENCE, he wasn't looking at you, just in your direction and was lost in thought beforehand. It was a reasonable conclusion in your mind, he was the silent, contemplative, education type. It seemed to complete the persona. But no, no matter what you were doing, he'd be quietly watching. In awe as the light bounced from your eyes, the way the colours shifted. How your face shifted into concentration. How your lips would twitch when you thought of something funny.

WHENEVER YOU TRIED TO CONFRONT HIM, JOKINGLY OR NOT, HE WOULD BRUSH OVER HOW HE WAS WATCHING YOU AND THE LOVING WAY HE SEEMED TO FOCUS ON YOUR FACE. Always an excuse it seemed, but the way he would stumble on his words when confronted, smiling nervously and almost begging you to believe him was adorable and told you more than any explanation ever could.

YOU WOULD NOTICE THOUGH THAT HE'D BECOME FAR MORE INTERESTED IN THE MAKEUP YOU'D WEAR AND THE WAY YOU'D ACCESSORIZE. You think he's trying to be helpful but speaking out of his ass, but on the contrary, Asa has done his homework, he knows how to make your eyes pop, and he would like to make sure you knew how exactly to make your most precious asset look its best.

SOMETHING IN THE VIVID, MISMATCHED HUES OF YOUR EYES BRINGS JESSE BACK TO A SIMPLER TIME. Back when the height of the excitement that came from his twisted life were the frequent visits to his father's funeral home. How his father would force teach him how to dissect women. The ringing in his ears when his little hands shook to much to properly hold the blade. The hot tears that ran down his face when he inevitably left into the back alley, humiliated and tears and the soft respect of the old alley cat that lived back there.

SHE NEVER HAD A NAME, BUT SHE DIDN'T NEED ONE, the soft tufts of orange fur, that sweet, rhythmic purr and those striking eyes. She would come to him and curl up in his lap, purring and meowing and batting at the drawstrings on his jumper. And he would forget the humiliation, he would forget his father and the women, and he would play. To this day, he could still recall the warm fuzzy feeling of weightlessness that came as that cat showed him the love and affection his father never would.

BUT EVENTUALLY, THE CAT STOPPED COMING. Logically, Jesse knew the cat had probably passed away - the last few visits, he could recall the sharp bumps of the cat's bones through its skin, how small and frail it looked. A part of him feared the worst and contemplated bringing her home, but he knew if the cat didn't pass on the streets, she would meet a far worse fate in his home. But the sting of the loss of who seemed to be his only respite from his father and the only constant in his life burned.

AS THE YEARS PASSED, HE EVENTUALLY FORGOT ABOUT THE CAT, but the feelings it gave him, the warmth and comfort he felt as that cat circled between his legs, its tail curling as though it had a mind of its own and those striking eyes staring up at him with nothing but love... that never left.

WHEN HE FIRST MET YOU, HE HAD THAT FAMILIAR RUSH, LIKE SEEING A GHOST. It took him a while to realize where it came from - after all, the years eventually blend together into this stew of anger, lashing out, the wins and the loses and the tapes. But when he gets it - he gets it. That strange little cat and you? The coincidence is impeccable, and he gives a hoarse chuckle at the thought.

HE GIVES YOU THE NICKNAME 'ALLEY' AND 'KITTY' you don't understand it, and he will never explain, lest you decide to go poking around in the oldest dredges of his family photos, but it's cute, and you can tell by the creases in the corner of his eyes and the knowing half-grins he gives at your mock offence that he means the term lovingly. As strange as that seems.

AND YOU CAN BET HE'LL BRAG ABOUT YOU TOO. No one in his 'circle' would ever be allowed to see you - let alone contact you or see you for themselves - those sheep don't need that leverage over him. But they will hear all about your eyes, your beautiful eyes, the way they smile, how they bunch up with anger, how they don't hold the same animosity, degeneracy of his past suitors. Of whom there were many.

ITS ALSO NEEDLESS TO SAY, BUT THERE WILL BE GIFTS TOO, Jesse isn't much of a gifter in general, but he makes an exception for you. He loves seeing you dressed up, fancy, like a gift, like you deserve to be. You make him so happy, after all. But there will be jewellery, earrings, maybe a necklace, bracelets, rings... Whatever you want in those colours.

#I hope this is okay!#I havent written in a while #the collector #the collection #asa emory #chromeskull #laid to rest #slashers #slasher fandom

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someobscurereference · 3 years ago

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For one: whenever the concept of the Nohrians meeting the young trio comes up, my first thoughts are 1) Inigo being cripplingly shy and terrified of Xander 2) Severa being Extremely Unreasonable and Aggressive especially toward Camilla and 3) Owain gravitating toward Elise because she's reminiscent of his mother, because he's a mama's boy who probably lost his mom very recently and that's pretty fucked up!!

That being said, I'm screaming at the idea of Owain gravitating toward Elise because mother, Xander because cool sword, and Camilla because cool armor, and Not Trusting Leo because he's a Dark Mage and Dark Mage Means Plegia Means Grima Means Evil (almost always) and Leo being so upset about it. It turns the tables entirely, where Odin was originally the one who thought both Leo and Niles were so cool and they thought he was a weirdo idiot until he proved himself, now he thinks they're creepy and Evil and have to work for his trust. And I will always love the Nohrians realizing the trio were Fucked Up Kids and the idea of them watching the three of them take down a faceless with Brutal efficiency because of how much more dangerous Risen were...I'm so into this. AND!! The trio fucking hating each other!! They're so used to them being Best Friends and Inseparable and understanding each other on a whole different wavelength. And now? Sev and Inigo aren't very kind toward Owain's dramatics, Sev and Owain are Bothered by Inigo's flirtations, and Severa is just so harsh with both of them (and most people). Of all the people they could be stuck with, they would Not choose each other. I'm rambling but I'm so into it I'm so so into it. One of the previous asks you linked spoke a lot about Inigo, but if you could talk a bit more about Severa and Owain? Especially if their adult selves were involved with their lieges and partner retainers and how different the dynamic is now and the way they each react when realizing the trio went through something so clearly screwed up and beyond even what they've seen

(prev ask) Ayyy, glad you got a kick out of all of that, lol. And yes!! Leo Trio origins reversed!! With Niles and Leo being the ones who have to prove themselves to Owain instead of the other way around. And the Trio not getting along!! They're 100% there to save each other when they think they're in mortal danger, but as soon as they realize they're not in Plegia? Don't touch me, don't breath on me, don't look in my direction, any of you. Owain & Inigo can't be alone in a room together or else they'll scuffle, Severa stomps away whenever Inigo tries to compliment her, nobody wants to talk to Owain, etc.

Also sure! I spoke a lot about Inigo in that last ask because I wanted to be clear about what I meant with the shyness thing, but for Severa & Owain...

I don't know if they would have been in romance with their lieges before this! I obviously ship the royals & their retainers, but I don't ever see the appeal of that dynamic in deaging fics? I get the idea of like "oh, this is a new side of my partner I've never seen before," but the deaging part is such a huge part of the plot that I don't really see the benefit to that dynamic in these types of fics.

But just in general! The friendship/platonic shift!

I mentioned before about Camilla trying to dote on little Severa but struggling because Severa rejects her So Hard, lol. In general she'd want to dote on Severa because of her personality and how Severa is a tiny version of her beloved retainer, but the more it becomes clear that Severa has issues (especially re: family, which is a major reason Camilla feels the need to dote on Corrin), the more she wants to spend time with her and make some happy memories with her. Which makes Severa's rejection of this attention even stronger bc who the hell are you to presume you know her? And also you're not her big sister/mom/whoever.

Eventually, I almost feel like Camilla would?? I don't want to say "give up," but eventually you're going to get more flies with honey than vinegar. By which I mean the less Camilla tries to push the relationship, the more open Severa might be to spending time with her. But I'm not sure Camilla would get to this point within the timeframe of the Trio being deaged! I think this would take many days or perhaps even weeks to figure out. If the Trio return to normal before this, I think Camilla might feel different (Hard to say how... maybe guilty??) about the way her Selena dotes on her and wants her attention all the time vs little Severa rejecting her. But!! If the Trio stay deaged for a while and Camilla learns to stop pushing the relationship, Severa may slowly grow to approach Camilla on her own and may then be open to being doted upon once they understand each other more (bc she canonically wants all the foods and fun stuff Camilla is offering; she just wants it from someone she trusts. And primarily from her parents ((see: awakening supports w/ parents)), but they're not here).

tl;dr Camilla would have to go against her doting instincts if she wanted Severa to get comfortable with her. Otherwise Severa would avoid her/take advantage of the things Camilla is offering while not wanting to be near her very much.

Re: Beruka!

Unlike Camilla, who has a lot of sad and sympathetic feelings for Severa, Beruka really leaves feelings out of it. Which is probably to her benefit in this scenario, as she's approaching Severa's trauma's from a logical (perhaps even detachedly relatable) standpoint rather than sympathetic. She's more direct than Camilla, so Severa might be a little more comfortable with her, just because she knows what to expect.

Severa, for her part, may even seek Beruka out once she knows they're partners because (1) she wants to know what sort of person her future partner is and (2) she wants to prove that she's the better retainer than Beruka. Which of course she can't do because (a) Beruka would never compare them like that, nor Camilla and (b) Severa is younger, more hotheaded, and less skilled than her older self, so anything she tries to prove now, she'll probably fail at and will blame on her older self having more experience. This competetive spirit may start as an inferiority complex thing, but with Beruka never really fanning the flames, Severa may eventually calm down about it and just feel more driven to get better on her own/respect Beruka as her partner (sort of like her Cynthia Supports in Awakening, though a little different).

Leo & Owain, I already talked about. Owain will immediately take note of the fact that Leo & Niles are his future lord & partner, which he is very curious about, but once Xander, Camilla, & the other very cool people with melee weapons come into the picture, he's very drawn to them, which makes Leo jealous, lol. Leo dedicates himself to "solving" the deaging issue, using this as an excuse so he doesn't have to spend time around Owain and get compared to his "cooler" siblings. HOWEVER, joke's on him bc the fact he's avoiding Owain means Owain doesn't get the chance to quiz him even more and tell him about how cool Brynhilder is. When this finally happens, Leo feels incredibly foolish for trying to show off for Owain & avoid him in turns. Owain, meanwhile, may or may not have ever picked upon on the fact Leo was feeling weird about him at all (although he will admit he felt nervous around Leo at first bc Pelgian Mage Memories and had to take time to get over that).

Niles is a little hard to consider because I actually think?? He'd be good with young/immature folk when he's genuinely trying to be? (See: Niles's interactions with Elise & Nina). However, he can also be quite cruel to people who don't really deserve it (See: Mozu C & B supports) despite having a motto of only insulting "people who deserve it," (Peri Support). So!! I think Niles's interactions with Owain ultimately come down to how well he respects Odin/how good their relationship was. If they were besties when Odin gets deaged, then I don't think Niles will purposely try to make Owain feel bad, though a lot of what he says with metaphors & double meanings will probably go over Owain's head anyway. I also don't know if he'd purposely go digging for information or not?? Depending on how much he feels asking would be a betrayal to Odin's trust vs his own curiosity and all the hints Owain doesn't realize not to drop?? I think Owain would really determine what Niles does or doesn't learn about him. They have the potential to have a really good talk where Owain talks about his parents' deaths and the struggles he & the kids are going through and Niels talking about his own life on the streets. (BTW, despite Owain literally going through a war & both parent death, I think he might think Niles has the worse situation bc he's never known parental love at all, which baffles Niles).

Similar to Leo, I think Owain would be really cautious around Niles at first, both because he's an intimidating sort and because he takes cues from how everyone acts around Niles too. But!! Also just like Leo, if his future self trusted them, obviously that means something, right? So he'd approach Niles a bit more after a few days of settling in.

Niles & Owain's interactions are really hard to imagine because they depend on so many factors that I haven't decided upon! But hopefully the other ones make sense, lol

Thanks for asking!

#my text #asks #my fic #queue #fe14

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daybreak-academy-fanfic · 3 years ago

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KH OC Week 2021: Day 3

Original Prompt: Loss

Summary: Day 3 for @khoc-week brings us back to Sabrina! The opening bit of today’s drabble is referencing a story I did for KHUX week in 2020, called Pinkie Swear. I’m actually quite proud how that one came so close to canon before the finale, haha! This one is a prequel of sorts to Sabrina’s new canon intro, Lost Lights. It blends in parts of the Epic Mickey games, because that’s a choice I made some years back... (And before you ask, Epic Mickey 2 is my comfort game, so it’s not because of the games themselves. We don’t ask about the other details now. We just do not.)

Word Count: 699

☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆

“I want us to make a promise. A blood pact, if you will. Since I know - - - - -, and you know - - - - -, then let’s promise to meet up after.”

“Are you really sure that it’s going to happen?”

“I would never lie about this, Sabrina. You know I wouldn’t.”

Those words haunted her while she sat down at this cutesy ice cream parlor table. They just kept repeating inside her head, as if they could lend a clue of who was talking, and just where they were meant to meet. She didn’t even know what they knew she was supposed to know either. But she tried not to think about what that could have been- the mere idea of it made her heart ache.

“Ortensia, I don’t know about this.” an anthropomorphic rabbit named Oswald said to his likewise anthro wife, the cat Ortensia. “The caverns are not an established landing zone between worlds. Then there’s the fact she was able to produce a Keyblade… There’s something screwy about her, and I don’t like it.”

“Oh nonsense, honey bunny.” Ortensia chirped. “She’s a good one, I can just tell. You could too if you just gave her a chance.”

“No way.” the rabbit disagreed- even folding his arms in defiance.

“You’ll attract more flies with honey than vinegar!” Ortensia sweetly sang before going back to the girl. Oswald couldn’t help the smile that stretched across his face. That was his sweet Ortensia- always seeing the best in others. She’d be a great mom if they ever managed to have their own one day.

All I remember is going to sleep. Was someone else with me? Why can’t I…?!

“Would you like another cup of hot chocolate, sweetie?”

The girl just looked at the cat, then carefully shook her head. Ortensia offered a kind smile as she took a seat across from the girl.

“If you ever get hungry, just let me know, alright?” the cat offered. “A pretty girl like you needs to keep up her strength. Did you ever say what your name was, dear?”

That was the one thing she was sure of.

“Sabrina. Sabrina Lillian Sidney.” There was a pause, then a small addition of, “Someone used to call me Sabi. Wabi-Sabi.”

Ortensia nodded. “That’s so sweet! Did you know that Wabi-Sabi means ‘perfection in imperfection’? Some people swear by it. Do you?”

The glare the girl gave the cat was but the first in the many more to come. Oswald saw it from where he was and snorted. It very quickly earned him the attention of the girls. There wasn’t anything the rabbit could do to defend himself, so he thought it best to walk over and take a seat next to Ortensia. Sabrina watched him before her attention drifted to something else.

“They're following me.” she said in a low voice.

“Who?” Oswald asked, being the first to react.

The girl pointed to the green and blue spirits with a scowl on her face. Oswald gave her a funny look before also turning his attention to the Guardians. Seeing them didn’t exactly assure him either. For decades, the Guardians were said to only come above ground when something big was going to happen to Wasteland. The fact that they hung so close to this girl was… alarming, to say the least.

“They won’t hurt you.” Oswald then told her. “If anything, them coming around means there’s something special about you.”

Before she could stop herself, Sabrina mumbled, “I don’t want to be special.”

At first, Oswald’s only reaction was to laugh. But when he got a good look at her, he found that she was being sincere. The realization hit his heart like a ton of bricks. This girl was… odd, to say the least. But at the same time she had nothing. She had lost her memories, possibly her old home. All she had now was a Keyblade and the Guardians following her. He’d be weirded out too if that was the only thing he knew about himself.

It took awhile, but Oswald made a choice that he would never once regret.

“Hey kid,” Oswald found himself saying, “Have you ever slept in a castle before?”

#khocweek2021 #kingdom hearts #kingdom hearts fanfiction #Sabrina #Oswald #Ortensia

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thoughtfullyrainynightmare · 3 years ago

Note

I read your love letters for Valentine's Day 2022 and I love them all. Surprised that no one ask for a Yami letter, but well, things happen. I'm actually more surprised that someone apparently asked for a letter from Solid. Positively surprised that is, because he seems to get a grip of himself in that letter. If meeting a special someone helps him getting better, then I'm all here for it^^

*incoherent scream*

Thank you flamelet! And yes, given how popular Yami seems to be in the fandom, I too was surprised that he wasn't requested for 🤔 But maybe most of my Yami simps were just busy

Solid was definitely a challenge, and the request was given as a challenge 😅 And it would probably take a pep talk from... Nozel??? Nebra????? Probably Nebra. To get him to a point where he realizes that honey attracts more bees than vinegar 😂 (or was it flies? Well which ever)

There's a lot of requests for characters that I haven't received requests previously, which is all for making the supply more balanced.

Thank you for stopping by! 💖💖💖

#flamelets #lovely anon

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invadernurse · 11 months ago

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Catching Flies (Revised) Ch. 17

Chapter 17: Aliens May Exist (In Your Head)

Overall rating: Teen

Summary: You catch more flies with honey than vinegar. That’s what they say anyway.

Afab Non-binary Reader;

The reader does have a last name: Nemo– which means no-name.

Chapter One |Master post |Ao3

"Mx. Nemo?" Professor Membrane asked as you waited for the EMTs to clear Dib and Zim. Or rather Zim, who was being uncooperative, and Dib was… Well, Professor Membrane wasn't sure if he was helping or not, but the EMTs seemed to be managing, so he didn't try to interfere.

Instead he focused on you as you sat on one of the benches, a blanket draped over your shoulders as you stared at the emergency personnel that were combing through the leveled remains of the expo building. Even with all his knowledge, Professor Membrane wasn't sure exactly what the purpose of the blanket they had settled over both his shoulders as well as yours, though his question was only answered by 'it helps with shock' by a frazzled EMT as she hurried on to the next patient.

"Hmm?" You answered rather spacily, only confirming his worries. You had been oddly quiet while you watched everything with a distant look on your eye. Being in his fair share of lab accidents, mishaps and adventures, he was used to the crash of adrenaline and reconciling the turn of events.

You, apparently, were not.

"Do you have anyone available in case of an emergency?" You frowned at that, giving him a distant but odd look, so he elaborated: "Sometimes there can be delayed effects and symptoms. It would be best if someone was able to monitor you through the night, just in case."

You shook your head, returning your attention to where Zim was fighting off one of the first responders. He half expected you to go intervene as you usually did, but instead you just watched and allowed the boy to manage on his own. "I'll be fine."

He shifted. He didn't like how flat your tone was. Your lack of emotion. This wasn't you. Something had to be wrong. "Considering we don't know exactly the cause of hallucinations and the explosions, there is no way to be certain if you will be fine or if there is just a delay before further side effects. Besides, you are expressing signs of psychological shock, and it would be best for you not to be alone."

He watched as your gaze fell to your hands, your expression still blank. You usually were so expressive that it felt unnatural to see you so apathetic. "I've dealt with this before. Different reasons, but I got through it then on my own, so I can get through it now."

He reached out to grab one of your hands, gripping it softly. "I don't doubt it, however, may I remind you of the lesson you have taught both Dib and Zim? It's okay to accept help from others."

Finally, your expression shifted away from numbness, replaced instead by mild confusion as you processed your words. Had you even realized you had taught the two that? In these last months both children had been more accepting of help, and actually asking for it. It had been years since Dib last admitted he didn't understand something fully, and sought out assistance.

You were the needed catalyst to shift their rivalry into a partnership.

"I guess you may be right…"

"Of course I'm right! I am Professor Membrane after all!"

This time, his attempt at levity succeeded, and a small smile crossed your lips. Your fingers tightened around his in a presumed silent gesture of thanks, making him aware of his impulsive action.

Several times today he had reached out for you, mostly to assure himself you were okay. The sensors built into his prosthetic arms monitored your heart rate. He knew Dib and Zim were experienced with emergencies and escaping safely.

But you, he hadn't been sure. And he couldn't let anything happen to you.

And carrying you in his arms…he was going to have to review and analyze those memories and emotions later.

"Dad! Mx. Nemo!" Dib called out as he and Zim were released by the exasperated techs and allowed the pair to leave. You both quickly let go of each other's hand and tried to pretend that it was nothing, though judging by Dib's grin and Zim's narrowed glare, they caught the act. "Can we go home now?"

"Yes, however, um, how would you boys feel about a sleepover?"

***

"No." Gaz growled as the door opened, revealing Professor Membrane, Dib, Zim, and you. It was late in the evening, far past the time you all expected to return. "Please, no."

"You act like a sleepover is the worst thing in the world," Dib scoffed as he led Zim to his room.

"Dad," Gaz virtually pleaded, her narrow eyes widening in an attempt to give her father the puppy-eye expression. "Zim and Dib. In the same room. All night. No one is going to get any sleep."

"Unfortunately, it is a price to pay to assure everyone's wellbeing."

"What is that even supposed to mean?"

"Another mass hallucination, shortly followed by an explosion, etc," he said, gesturing for you to sit next to Gaz. "I need to be sure that both Zim and Mx. Nemo do not suffer any long term effects. Please keep an eye on them while I run some tests."

He quickly continued on to the kitchen--presumably to the stairs leading down to his lab--without waiting for Gaz to answer. Or for you to even sit down. Which you hadn't. One, because Gaz had the couch covered with her laptop, pizza box, and gameslave. Two, you were very tempted to just turn around and make your way across town to your apartment, where you could try to digest everything in peace.

The only reason you hadn't was you were unsure what the Professor's reaction would be, and you didn't want to upset him. You also weren't that comfortable with the idea of crossing town in your current state. Everything seemed fuzzy, like you were in a mental fog, and so numb.

Gaz groaned dramatically before tossing the empty pizza box on the coffee table. "So I take it Dib and Zim found the alien plot after all."

"What?" You croaked as you hesitated before the small girl reached up and tugged sharply on your clothes to sit down. Even then, you fell more than sat into the overstuffed couch, just feeling…bleh.

"Both of them were convinced it was an alien plot to kidnap human brains or something like that," she explained, sounding rather exasperated as she went back to playing her game. "They've been so annoying about it the last several months. I'm glad it's over. Even if dad will be switching between denying anything extraterrestrial and claiming the hallucinogenic side effects of something or another for a while. He finally just got over the whole Florpus deal too."

You were silent, trying to process her words and reconcile them with the day's events. "Aliens…might exist. Aliens…do exist?" You whispered after a moment, causing Gaz to pause her game once more. She looked over at you warily.

"You're not going to have a mental breakdown, are you? As much as I enjoy watching people succumb to insanity, I want to beat this level first."

"Are aliens real?" You asked her, only partially aware of that voice in your head pointing out how irrational it was to be asking an elementary-age child that question, and expecting it to be an honest answer. As if Gaz actually knew the truth.

She rolled her eyes and set her controller down. "Fine. Mental breakdown first, I guess. Yes, aliens are real. Yes, Zim is actually an alien invader, but he sucks at it. Earth really was sucked into florpus over summer break. Bigfoot is real and keeps breaking into our shed to use the electric sander to grind his nails. Dib resurrected the dead a few years ago and we had a legit zombie apocalypse, which is the only thing dad will at least somewhat acknowledge. Any other questions?"

So many questions ran through your head. How did she know that? Was she just pulling a prank on you? Or was she telling the truth? Which was more believable? That this was all a hallucination from some gas compound, or it was all real?

But, it wasn't just today. There had been so many weird things since you started living in the city; things you tried to explain away, but you still couldn't shake. Was this the truth? As fantastical as it was, it answered everything.

Well, mostly everything.

"Professor Membrane is a scientist," you started slowly, trying to put your mess of thoughts into words. "If that is all real, surely he would have… I don't know, admit it? Investigated it? Known about it?"

Gaz tilted her head, "Well, that's disappointing. Usually people are having full blown breakdowns by now."

You felt a spark of irritation that fought back the mental fog. You were struggling here, really struggling, and her response was that? As if she wanted you too… what? Break down, screaming and crying? Jabber like a fool at the thought of aliens being real? "Are you telling the truth? Or just trying to play a prank?"

She grabbed her controller, unperturbed. "I'm telling the truth. Usually those that believe me start to question everything, and that's when I start pulling pranks. Mr. Sunny from Kindergarten still thinks that he's a human puppet controlled by aliens."

No, this couldn't be true. You trusted Professor Membrane more than elementary aged child. "If it's true, why does the professor seem so certain it's not?"

"I think the term is pathological science, which was ironic when dad was giving a lecture on it. He is so certain that the 'paranormal' doesn't exist he can't acknowledge it, even after he spent days in space prison."

You pondered her words as she returned to her game. Was she really being serious? Her words made sense, more than a kid playing a game, or just pulling your leg. You had read and listened to that same lecture. About wanting results so much that your brain tricked itself.

You need answers, and ones you could fully trust. Without another word, you stood and made your way to the kitchen, towards the door that led to the basement lab.

But your bravery evaporated as you faced the closed door. Maybe…maybe you should wait. You didn't want to disturb him. And besides, how were you even going to word your question without sounding insane? Hey, are aliens real? Is there a possibility that they are and you deny their existence because of some deep psychological thing?

Just as you decided that maybe this wasn't the best plan, the screen blinked to life showing Professor Membrane. "Oh, Mx. Nemo. I wasn't expecting you to be the one triggering the loitering alarm."

“Oh, uh, sorry," you apologized weakly, shifting your weight. Now what? Do you ask him? Or lie? "I was just, um, wondering if I could talk with you?”

Okay, that sounded weak even to yourself. Surprisingly, Professor Membrane only nodded his head, making you wonder if perhaps he was distracted by something else.

“Of course, come on down.” The screen flickered off and the door opened automatically. Despite being stairs that led to the basement (which your mind presumed were always dark and musty) the stairs were brightly lit and reminiscent of his lab downtown with white walls and tile floors.

Which continued into the lab itself once you descended the stairs. White gleaming counters mixed with shiny chrome machinery, none of which you had the slightest idea what they were for. All whirring quietly, lights flickering as they worked.

Professor Membrane was sitting at his desk, surrounded by monitors, and seemingly lost in his work. He glanced up when you carefllully approached and must have sensed your nerves as he gestured you closer. "What's your question?"

He turned back to the monitors and as you drew closer you could see each had a different display, some graphs of data, or long tables with numbers that kept fluctuating, but the one that caught your attention the most was the one he was focused on, looked rather like a blood smear from your old college biology days.

"I…was wondering if…you found anything yet." Okay, so that wasn't exactly what you wanted to ask, but you were too nervous to ask about aliens outright.

"Unfortunately, not yet," he sighed, flickering through screens. "I'm running several different toxin panels of my blood sample that I hope will prove enlightening, but it will take several hours for them to complete." He paused for a moment, rubbing his forehead in frustration as he sighed yet again before looking over his shoulder to you. "How are you feeling? Headaches? Dizziness? Fatigue? Confusion?"

"I'm fine," you reassured, touching his shoulder out of habit. You could feel the tension in his shoulders, but then wondered if maybe that was just his prosthetics.

Part of you wanted to press into the white lab coat, admittingly curious how far they went, but forced yourself to refrain. He had replaced his ruined lab gloves to cover his metal arms, and you didn't want to probe if it was a sensitive subject for him. "What about yourself?" You asked instead, rubbing light circles instead into the heavy fabric.

You weren't expecting him to arch slightly into your touch, the kind you see from touch-starved students. A split second passed and you could feel him freeze, but you bravely just continued, giving a smile as he glanced back, his face definitely pink.

"I-I'm fine. No adverse effects noted. Everything is good." He turned away, adjusting his goggles as he went back to his computer. "Though I am perplexed by the fact these hallucinations are proving as atypical as those caused by the memebraclets. Typically once a psychosis ends, one's memory of the event is usually fuzzy and confusing. Yet, this is not the case…"

Your hand paused, clutching at the heavy fabric slightly as you braced your nerves. "What…what are the chances that it wasn't a hallucination? That it was real?"

His mood and demeanor changed in an instant. "It is scientifically impossible!" he said firmly, sharply, causing you to freeze for a moment of brief panic--this was not a side of him you had seen, nor really expected.

But as quick as it came, the anger dissipated. Professor Membrane rested his head in his hands, hiding his face even more as he whispered softly. "It can't be real. It can't."

Your heart ached, and you couldn't resist wrapping your arms around his shoulders, (or as best you could, considering how broad he was) and resting your chin against his shoulder. "It's okay. It'll be okay."

"You have no scientific data to back up your claim," he rebutted hoarsely, though one of his hands shifted to grasp yours. "What if there are worse long term effects of the memebraclets? What if I can't find an answer? I'm Professor Membrane, the smartest human currently alive. If I can't figure it out, I'll be ridiculed by my peers. I'd be the laughing stock of the science community if they heard I was even considering the fact that this paranormal nonsense may actually..."

He trailed off, and you rubbed his hand that clenched yours, head pressed against the back of his shoulder as you tried to think of a way to comfort him.

"You are The Great Professor Membrane," you started after a moment. "If anyone can figure it out, it's going to be you. It might take a while, but if you figured out the whole cold-fusion that everyone said was impossible just a decade ago, then you can figure this out."

"Thank you, Mx. Nemo," he sighed, releasing your hand reluctantly. You equally reluctantly let go of his shoulder and stood, shifting to lean against his desk as he looked up at you."Truly, thank you. I'm sorry you had to witness that moment of weakness."

"It's no problem,” you answered automatically and a bit awkwardly as you shrugged your shoulder. “I mean, you've been there for me this entire time, and literally did save my life. It's, well, it's the least I can do." You didn't even do much, you felt, compared to everything he had done for you. Helping you to help the boys, taking your little science club and helping transform it into something that had changed the lives of not only Dib and Zim, but your own.

"You've helped my son, Mx Nemo," he said, shaking his head. "I've tried to convince him to forget his paranormal nonsense for years with little success, but you've managed to actually get through to him."

Your gut twisted, you really hadn't. Heck, you were sure the tables had turned and now you were wondering if Dib hadn't been right all along.

***

"Well, mission accomplished, I guess?"

The corkboard that was usually filled with various pictures of paranormal sightings had been taken up with notes of the aliens they had been tracking as well as pictures Gir and Mini Moose had taken (mainly Mini Moose. Gir had delivered pictures of everything but. Though, Dib had kept the few with pink blobs he was sure were blurred pictures of Clembrane in the background. He was becoming quite the urban legend around town.)

"Yes, but my cover was nearly blown! Those human stink worms kept trying to vivisect me!"

"They were EMTs doing their job. They hardly suspected anything." Which was disappointing, but Dib supposed now that he was an ally with Zim, he shouldn't be. "And dad already believes it's a hallucination despite the evidence to the contrary, so your secret is safe."

Zim collapsed into the desk chair, letting it spin a few times. "Yes, but I am not sure about Mx. Nemo. They seemed…unsure about what to believe." And he didn't know how to feel about that. If it was any other human he would worry about his safety (since his mission was now non-existent). But he kept recalling you yelling at him. Not in anger or terror, but worry for him. That he wasn't an invader, but your student. He highly doubted you understood the true significance of your words. How he was struggling with his lack of an identity, but you had figuratively thrown him a lifeline. Being an invader had been his sole reason for being.

Then he had been abandoned by his people, his leaders. He no longer had any purpose.

And yet, you came along and claimed him. Decided that he was one of your kind despite everything. You weren't as tall as other humans, but you were his Tallest. (Membrane literally was the tallest, and respectable in his own way, but Zim found him slightly inferior to you.)

Dib gave a soft hum as he thought, oblivious to Zim's internal struggle. "They'll believe whatever dad tells them. And even if by a miracle they do believe, you really think they'd let anything bad happen to you?"

"I'm not one of your disgusting human smeets," Zim said, refusing to look at Dib and instead stared at the posters on the wall. "I am--I was-- an Irken invader. Their feelings are built on a lie. Once they realize that…"

"It's not about what you are, it's about who you are." Dib reassured, placing a hand on his shoulder. "And, unfortunately, they know you, Zim. And still care, so I think your stuck with them. And me too."

The fake lenses covering his eyes still betrayed the emotion brewing, probably more so than if he hadn't been wearing them. Dib bit back a smile and punched him lightly in the shoulder. "Face it, we make an awesome team. We just saved all those people. You’re no longer Zim, invader of earth, but Zim, protector of earth. Actually--"

"Okay okay, quit it!" Zim half heartedly tried slapping the boy away. "You don't have to rub my failure in my face!"

"Not a failure, accomplishments," Dib corrected, grinning now that he could tell Zim was feeling better, even if he wouldn't admit it. "You succeeded this time Zim. We both did."

***

Professor Membrane had insisted you stay the night in the small guest room. It was oddly very bland compared to the rest of the house, with a standard bed, night stand, and some boxes piled in the corner labeled toys, probably from Dib and Gaz's younger years.

It did have a very large picture of the Membrane Labs downtown, probably from opening day judging from the Professor standing in the front flanked by hundreds of others in matching white lab coats and goggles.

But what kept you up, tossing and turning on the pleasantly soft bed was, of course, the day's events. How were you supposed to wind down and sleep after that?

Was it all a hallucination? Or was it real? Were those real extraterrestrials? What did that mean for everything else? Was everything Dib and Gaz talk about real?

Was Zim…

. . .

God, you didn't even want to think about it.

And the professor… you had never imagined he would react like that. You, along with the rest of the world, had him on this pedestal. And even though you were an English teacher, and had read the trope over and over, you hadn't ever seriously considered that it would apply to him as well.

And being able to hug him? At the time, you had been fueled by seeing him struggle and couldn't help but try to comfort him. But now you could think about it. Worry about it.

Squee about it.

You buried your face in the pillow and groaned, full of conflicting emotions.

You were such a mess. Sleep was not going to come easy tonight for sure.

***

He was a mess.

Professor Membrane groaned as he fell back on his bed.

All the tests came back negative. Granted, his only samples were from himself, but still. He should have found something. Some kind of toxin, or hallucinogen, something.

But nothing. Not even the faintest trace of metabolites that would be byproducts of such things. There had been nothing traceable in any of the samples, tissue, blood, or otherwise.

Maybe he needed to expand his sample size. Not Dib, the boy's computer sensors would have alerted him to any dangerous substances in his system, and his (very slightly) altered genetic makeup made his body slightly more efficient at filtering out such things.

But you… you would be a good source. Typical physiology without any kind of modifications, maybe your body would hold on to the metabolites longer?

Yet, here he was, not jumping up to ask you for consent, but laying in bed and staring at the ceiling. Science demanded an answer. Yet his emotions were causing him to be reluctant to ask. You had given enough as it was. What if you were sleeping, your body naturally trying to sort and heal itself? He didn't want to keep you up all night with his tests.

He didn't want you to be scared away, which frequently had happened in his younger years when he tried to navigate the social experiment that was public school. He hadn't thought about those memories in such a long time, so busy with his successes. But you weren't a colleague or a fellow scientist, you were….

What were you, in relation to him? You were far more than just his son's teacher, that was for certain. Friends, perhaps? Could he be friends with you and have things remain platonic despite his growing attraction? He had thought he would be able to control such base emotions, but today had proven that theory wrong.

Watching you step forward despite your fear, the combination of pride and worry as you tried to control the situation. Holding you close and the visceral thrill of protecting someone he cherished. Knowing that you trusted him to protect you in the situation despite everything. The flare of happiness when he heard you call Dib and Zim 'our boys'. His more primitive part of his mind thrilled that you saw and accepted him as a partner in trying to raise them.

And then in the lab, when you tried to comfort him. How long had it been since someone had done that for him? Had anyone? His parents had been the type to approach these situations with offers of solutions or alternative ideas. His coworkers would give him a pat on the back when an experiment failed or otherwise didn't turn out as he had planned, but that was it.

He had grabbed your hand because he wanted to prolong the contact as long as he could. He wanted to blame it on just the rush of neurochemicals caused by physical contact, but…it was because it was you touching, holding, him. Your soft body pressed against his, just warm enough he could feel it radiate through his lab coat.

What would it be like to feel your skin? To feel how soft and warm you were without the barrier of his gloves, and not in a life and death situation where he didn't have time to study the sensation in detail?

Or direct skin to skin contact? There was an unfamiliar but pleasant sensation in his abdomen as he…theorized how it would feel if you caressed his face, running your hands along his jaw, neck, and shoulders.

And, just to be scientific, while he no longer flesh-covered his hand, there were more sensory nerve endings in his lips any ways. Would you mind if he….

Ah, he winced as the sensation shifted into one he was unfortunately familiar with, making him shift in bed. Perhaps it wasn't quite appropriate for him to think such things. Especially when you were in the room next to his.

He started mentally recounting Archimedes's constant to calm himself and drift off to sleep.

His dreams, however, were not as scientific.

***

In the morning, you woke to the chattering whispers of Dib and Zim, obviously trying to stay quiet, but failing. Horrifically.

"Morning boys," you greeted with a yawn as you entered the kitchen, "what are you two up to?"

"Nothing," both were quick to answer as Foodio placed a steaming pile of eggs and pancakes out, the robot almost vibrating with excitement.

"Good morning Mx. Nemo! May Foodio 3000 interest you in a cup of yogurt and granola this morning? Or maybe a traditional English breakfast? Belgian waffles? Grits?"

"Coffee, please," was your soft reply, a little overwhelmed by his manic energy.

"Dark roast? Arabica or Colombian? Espresso? Americano? Mocha?"

You answered with your usual, and within seconds had your preferred drink before you.

"So, um, Gaz said you had a breakdown yesterday," Dib started awkwardly a moment later after you stared at the mug, still trying to wake up. "But she called it disappointing, so I think that it means it wasn't that bad?"

"I wouldn't call it a breakdown," you sighed, enjoying the smell of your drink. "More like questioning the events of yesterday and, well, I guess, if aliens do exist."

You expected Dib to jump and scream with excitement. For you to validate his belief. And for a moment, you thought that was what was going to happen. His eyes lit up and a grin started to stretch across his face.

Then he looked to Zim, whose green skin had paled and looked rather startled.

No. He looked scared.

Green skin that was unlike anything you had found in any sort of google search about rare skin conditions. Odd mannerisms, technology.

After sleeping, it still made too much sense.

"Um, well, er," Dib stammered as the pieces clicked into place, and you were trying to process the image the puzzle created.

Dib, who always claimed Zim was an alien. Zim, who argued he wasn't, never got upset for Dib calling him such.

You were glad you were sitting, because you felt very dizzy. "Oh my stars. Oh my dear lord. It is true. Aliens are real. Zim is--"

"Zim's good now, so please don't report him!" Dib was quick to interrupt. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but you can't tell anyone else!"

Your student. One of your favorite students who you saw so much of yourself in, was an alien. An extraterrestrial. Had you been so desperate to help someone that you projected your history onto him?

"Okay," you breathed after a moment. "Okay, okay. So, um, I guess I'm sorry if anything I said before offended you. Wait, are you a child, or an adult?"

Zim's expression shifted from fear into confusion as he and Dib looked at each other. Scratch that, both boys were stunned by your reaction. "Er, neither?" Zim finally answered. "I'm…fully matured, to an extent, but your human life cycle stages don't really translate well to…Irken."

"Well, that's-that's good to know,” was your weak reply, with silence following afterwards as you tried to grapple with the information.

"Your really okay with it?" Dib asked after a long period of silence. "You really believe?"

"Well, I really am still working on it," you admitted as you rubbed your face. "The thing is, it makes too much sense. I know your father doesn't think so, but I-I do. Either that, or I've gone insane."

#invader zim #professor membrane #enter the florpus #dib membrane #invaderzim #catching flies #invader zim zadf #professor membrane x reader #invader zim fic #catching flies fic

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originalhybridloverfics · 4 years ago

Text

Ch 5 Don’t Give Up Now

A/N: Sorry for the long wait. My only excuse is life has been busy for me and I get distracted easily with a muse that is all over the place.

“Serkan, Hi,” Eda’s voice filtered over the phone.

Serkan let out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

“Eda,” he said.

“I wanted to apologize. I was being intentionally difficult. I shouldn’t have left dinner the way I did. The truth is it’s hard for me seeing you again and I’m struggling to leave our past behind us.”

“I understand.” And Serkan did. He did not come here to make things harder for her. “I didn’t come here to hurt you Eda or make your life more difficult. If you truly don’t want to see me-”

“No, I do,” Eda assured him. “It’s just not going to be easy but I want to try and be civil. We’re not enemies, Serkan and I want to have a good working relationship. A professional one.”

A professional relationship wasn’t what he wanted but he could work with that and with time he hoped Eda’s heart would soften toward him and she would remember how good they are together.

“If that’s what you want but I want you to know you will always be more to me than a business associate.”

“Serkan, please, I’m trying here. Let’s not make this difficult.” Eda said and Serkan heard the catch in her voice.

“Okay,” he conceded. “Okay.”

“I thought we could go for coffee, set some boundaries while we are working together on your project,” Eda said. “I promise, I’ll be on my best behavior. You can even pick me up.”

Serkan felt hope surge inside him. “I’d like that. Tomorrow. I’ll pick you up around 8.”

“Okay, I’ll see you, then. Good night, Serkan.”

“Good night, Eda Yildiz.” Serkan returned, a smile pulling at his mouth as the call ended.

He lowered his phone, placed it beside him, rubbing the top of Sirius’s head. “Not all hope is lost. Maybe, I can convince her to come back here before the day is over tomorrow. Would you like to see, Eda?”

Sirius’s ears perked up, his tail wagging, and Serkan imagined if dogs could smile then that would be Sirius’s reaction right now.

“I thought so,” Serkan rubbed Sirius’s head, allowing the presence of his dog to wash over him, calming him.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Eda pulled the phone away, a smile pulling at her lips.

It was ridiculous but she had missed hearing Serkan tell her good night. The way he said it, said her name, still brought a smile to her face.

She had decided to give Ceren's advice a chance.

If she wanted to know why Serkan was there she needed to approach the situation differently.

How did the metaphor go? You catch more flies with honey than vinegar.

She would be charming and kind and everything Serkan fell in love with the first time.

She will get close to him and learn why he’s here and then she will get him to go back to Instanbul and let her live her life without his interference.

She clutched her phone in her hand.

A twinge of guilt seeped beneath her skin at her plans of deception but she pushed it down, telling herself if Serkan would just be honest she wouldn’t have to resort to playing these games with him.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Eda swept her hair over her shoulder, giving herself a look over.

Black mini shorts, white top, jean jacket. She looked good, the outfit itself was a strategic move on her part.

Serkan loved her long legs and they never failed to distract him and she wanted him off balance.

The more off-balance he was the better.

The one thing she did not need was Serkan seeing through her and realizing what her plan was before she got what she wanted from him. The truth.

Her phone vibrated on her vanity and she reached for it. A text message notification from Serkan.

She opened the text.

I’m waiting outside.

She sent him a text back.

On my way out.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Serkan slipped his phone into his jacket pocket and leaned against his car door. Waiting.

He looked up when he felt a shift in the air.

Eda was descending the stairs, she looked beautiful, the shorts she wore, showing off her gorgeous legs.

He was glad he was not wearing his health monitoring watch for he knew without a doubt it would be giving away the fact that his heart was pounding against his ribs at the sight of her. “Good morning," he moved around to the passenger side door and held it open for her.

“Good morning,” Eda got into the passenger seat and Serkan closed it behind her before rounding the car and getting behind the wheel.

“Any recommendations for a good place to get coffee?” Serkan asked, starting the car up.

“There’s this place a few blocks from work. It’s warm, quiet, and has the best coffee around.” Eda answered. “I’ll guide you.”

Serkan pulled onto the road, his eyes drifting to Eda, a smile pulling at his lips, seeing her dark hair blowing in the wind.

He had missed their car rides. It was something entirely theirs and held a special place in his heart.

It was something shared between them but for him, it was so much more than that.

Eda looked over at him when he looked back to the road, watching him.

It was surreal, experiencing something she never would again, and wasn’t sure how she felt about it.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Serkan pulled out her chair, looking around at the outside terrace. It was secluded, quiet, and beautiful overlooking a garden with a fountain.

Eda took a seat thanking him as he pushed her chair in. She raised her arm waving at the barista.

Serkan took his seat, straightening out his jacket just as the barista reached the table.

“Good morning, Eda.” The barista had long brown hair, with highlights of gold at the end, she turned to Serkan. “Good morning, Sir.”

“Good morning.”

She smiled and turned back to Eda. “Coffee and a cinnamon roll.”

“You know me so well, Nazil.” Eda smiled.

“You enjoy your sweets.” Nazil turned back to Serkan. “And for you?”

“Coffee, no sugar,” he paused, he was feeling a little nauseated. It was becoming a common feeling. “And some crackers if you have some.” Hopefully, something light would ease his stomach.

“I’ll be back in just a moment.” Nazil offers another friendly smile.

“You come here regularly?” Serkan wondered as Nazil stepped away to fill their orders.

“A few times a week,” Eda answered. “Nazil and I have actually become good friends. She was my first friend here in Italy besides Efe.”

Serkan felt his gut churned at the mention of Efe. “Let’s not talk about him.”

“You know you will be spending time together, Serkan. I mean, you’re working together.”

“No, I am not working with him. I am working with you. There’s a difference.” Serkan countered.

“It’s his company.” Eda reminded him.

“Yes but you are the one I ask to work with. Any involvement from Efe would be nothing more than a formality.” Serkan responded.

“You have an answer for everything, don’t you.”

“Yes.” Serkan's lips pulled into a grin.

Eda shook her head, a laugh pulling at her lips. “It doesn’t work that way.”

“It will when I bring in Engin, Piril, and Leyla to help the project along,” Serkan informed.

“You can’t just bring in people into a company you have no say in. Yes, you're an important client but there’s a line.” Eda reasoned.

“May I remind you, I am Serkan Bolat. The PR from me coming to Efe for my business is good media and promotion for him. It would not be wise to not allow me to appoint my own workers.”

Eda sighed. She had forgotten how stubborn Serkan could be and how set he was in having things go exactly as he planned.

“Then can I expect to see Engin, Piril, and Leyla today?” Eda asked.

“Yes, they will meet us at the office.” Serkan nodded.

“We could call them and have them meet us here,” Eda suggested. “We can work out on the details here now that way we can present it to Efe in a logical manner.”

“No,” Serkan shook his head. He wanted this time to be just them, he would deal with everything else later. “Let it just be us,”

“Us?” Eda repeated and nodded slowly. “Okay. Let today be the day of the start of our new relationship.”

Serkan smiled widely. “Relationship?”

Eda’s cheeks heated. “Working relationship. Strictly platonic.”

Serkan nodded. “Right. I would prefer an offer with friendship. I care about you more than you would a co-worker.”

“Friendship?” Eda asked, telling herself to ignore the way her heart had reacted when he spoke of caring about her.”

“Yes,” Serkan nodded. “Do you think we can do that? Be friends?”

Eda froze up, feeling like she had been put on the spot.

Friends. Was it even possible to be friends with someone you were in love with once? Someone you had sex with? Someone you once considered your soulmate but now was someone who you were no longer close with.

“Friends?” She repeated.

“Yes, friends,” Serkan confirmed. Yes, he cared about Eda far more deeply than any friend should. He was still very much in love with her and would always be. She was his other half.

However, if friends were all he could get Eda to agree to then so be it. After all, the best relationships were rooted in friendship.

He just had to be patient and show Eda how good they are together and hopefully, she would open her heart to him.

“Okay,” said Eda. Her whole plan was to get Serkan to open up to her and tell her why he was there. What better way to accomplish that than attempting a friendship with him.

Serkan smiled and Eda returned it, ignoring the flutter in her stomach at the happy look in his eyes.

She could do this. She could carry out her plan without getting her heart involved. She was sure of it.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Serkan and Eda arrived at the company. Walking in with Serkan it almost felt like old times, only it was not ArtLife they were walking into.

“When will the others arrive?” Eda asked Serkan as they made their way to her office.

However, before Serkan could answer Nisa appeared in front of them. “Eda, Efe asked for you to come to the conference room when you arrived.” Nisa turned to Serkan with a bright smile. “Your associates are waiting for you there.”

“Thank you.” Serkan nodded at her and placed his hand on Eda’s back as she led the way to the conference room.

She knocked on the door and stepped inside, Serkan following close behind her.

Efe was seated at the end of the long conference table and Eda had been working with him long enough to know the smile on his face as he stood to welcome Serkan was forced.

“Eda!” Engin smiled widely at her, standing from his seat and pulling her into a bear hug. “Oh, how I have missed you.”

Eda laughed and patted his back. “I’ve missed you, too.”

He released her with a grin, his hands on her shoulders. “How could you leave me all alone with him?”

“I didn’t, you had Piril and Leyla and Erdem,” said Eda.

Leyla let out a scoff, shaking her head. “Erdem.”

Eda laughed some things never changed. Erdem clearly was still driving everyone up the wall.

Leyla nudged Engin out of the way and threw her arms around her tightly. “Eda, it’s great to see you again.”

Eda’s breath left her with the force of her hug.

“Leyla,” Serkan said sharply.

Leyla let her go reluctantly, mumbling an apology.

“Hello, Eda. You look well,” Piril greeted. “I hope you and Serkan have been communicating civilly.”

Eda looked at Serkan to find he was already looking at her. “We came to an agreement.”

“Perhaps we should write it in a contract,” Serkan suggested.

Eda’s lips parted unsure how to respond. Contracts with Serkan, she couldn’t explain but they were special to her.

Efe cleared his throat before saying, “Serkan, do you want to explain why Engin, Piril, and Leyla are here asking where they should set up so they can start working?”

“Because they along with myself will be handling the work that I need to be done,” Serkan responded. “I prefer to work with people I can count on, who I can trust”

“If you are just going to do everything yourself why did you even come here?” Efe asked, irritated.

“For Eda,” Serkan said.

Eda's eyes snapped to him. “Serkan.”

“I need a landscape architect and I have always loved Eda’s designs.” Serkan's eyes were on her as he spoke.

Eda bit her lip, caught up in his words. She had always loved when Serkan praised her work. Even now, it still made her stomach and caused a warm feeling to spread through her chest.

“Eda, can I speak to you in my office.” Efe’s request cut through the tension between her and Serkan.

“Of course,” she followed him out of the conference room and into his office.

“Eda, I don’t like this. Serkan is playing games.” Efe said, closing the door behind them.

“You don’t know that. I doubt he came all this way to play games.” Eda argued.

“No, you’re right. He came all this way for you and that is not acceptable. Eda, You can’t tarnish your professional relationship because he decided on a whim to fight for a relationship that died when you came to Italy without him.” Efe said passionately.

“I don't understand what my previous relationship has anything to do with this. My and Serkan's relationship is in the past,” Eda argued.

“Be sure it stays that way. Serkan is not good for you.” Efe said.

“Stop,” Eda said abruptly. “You have no right to tell me about my past relationships or present. It is not your place and Secondly, I would not jeopardize the career I built for myself because of a past I left behind.”

“I didn’t mean to offend you, Eda,” Efe said, choosing his words more carefully. “I remember when you first came to Italy. You were so hurt and Serkan did that. He caused you so much pain in the past and I don’t want you to open the door for him to do it again.”

Eda hated the reminder of the pain Serkan caused her in the past. She was trying her hardest to move past the hurt and pain. She didn’t need anyone reminding her of it.

“Don’t worry. Serkan and I are the last thing you need to worry about. My relationship with him from this point forward. Is strictly platonic and professional. Still, even if it wasn’t it would be any concern of yours.”

Efe nodded. “I’m just trying to look out for you.”

“I can look out for myself,” Eda turned to leave his office.

Efe cursed under his breath as he was left alone. This wasn’t going to end well. He could feel it.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Eda returned back to the meeting with others forcing a smile. “How about we start going over the details and I will introduce everyone to our supply contacts that we’ll need for the renovations and everything.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Serkan said, he moved closer to her, taking her coat and motioning for her to sit with the others so they could begin talking details.

His fingers trailed across her skin as he took her coat and Eda fought against a shiver as goosebumps spread across her skin.

She turned her head to look at him. He was close, she could feel his breath on her neck, brushing her cheek, she could see the dark ring of his iris.

Her breath caught in her throat as his eyes flickered down to her mouth. Her lips parted almost instinctively, he leaned closer and she panicked, quickly stepping back putting some much-needed distance between them.

Serkan fisted her jacket in his hands, looking away he blew out a slow breath.

He just had to take this slow. She wasn’t pushing him away and it was the most he knew could ask for under the circumstances but he hoped down the line, she wouldn’t want to move away from him.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Aydan glared down at her phone. “Why is my son not taking my calls?”

Seyfi stood a few feet away. “Perhaps, he is busy.”

“He shouldn’t be busy!” Aydan protested. “He’s not well. He should not be working.”

“Working is how he destress’s.” Seyfi reasoned. “If he’s working, he doesn’t have to think about what’s happening.”

“Why can’t he let me be there? I could help.” Tears filled Aydan’s eyes. “Why won’t he let anyone help? I’m not ready for any of this.”

Seyfi took a seat beside her and reached for her hand. “As hard as this is, this is his life and it’s his decision. He doesn’t want you to suffer more than you have to from his illness.”

“But I will suffer.” Aydan assisted, wiping at her eyes. “I have lost a child before and now I am losing another one and I don’t think I will survive it. I need my son.”

“Maybe you feel better if you go and see him?” Seyfi suggested. “I’m certain, he’s at the office.”

“Yes, let’s go.” Aydan agreed.

Except Aydan and Seyfi soon learned Serkan was not in the office. He was not even in Istanbul.

“What do you mean my son is not in the country anymore?!” Aydan demanded, staring a hole in Erdem’s head.

“He left me to look after things while he, Engin, and Piril went on a business trip. Leyla was lucky enough she got to go while the rest of us were left behind but don’t worry I have everything under control.”

“Mr. Serkan left you in control?” Seyfi’s voice was filled with doubt.

“Erdem lies to you.” Ferit appeared sending the other man a reproachful look.

“Serkan did not leave the country?” Aydan asked but her relief was short-lived.

“No, he did but he left me in charge of things until Engin and Piril return.”

“Why not tell he returns?” Aydan asked warily.

“I’m not sure he intends to come back,” Ferit admitted. “Did he not discuss this with you before leaving.”

“He didn’t even tell me where he was going! He didn’t tell me he was leaving.” Aydan exclaimed, her heart thudding painfully. Oh God, her son left the city to die alone. He couldn’t do this alone. He just couldn’t. “Where did my son go?”

“Italy,” Ferit answered.

“Italy?!” Seyfi turned his wide eyes to Aydan.

“Do you think Serkan has gone to see her?” Aydan wondered.

“He must have,” Seyfi nodded his head. “What else is in Italy for Serkan to go there.”

Aydan nodded. “You’re right. Seeing as Serkan is not here, we will go,” she told Ferit and turned, Seyfi hot on her heels.

Ferit watched her leave and wondered why Serkan hadn’t told his mother he was leaving town. It wasn’t like his business trips were some big secret from his mother.

Once outside in the fresh air and away from prying ears, Seyfi asked Aydan. “Do you think he will tell her?”

“I truly do not know,” Aydan answered. “I hope he does. If anyone could make Serkan change his mind about getting treatment it would be her.”

Seyfi nodded in agreement.

“Seyfi book us two flights. We are going to Italy.” Aydan declared suddenly.

“We are?” Seyfi asked at her spontaneous request.

“I will not spend what time I have left with my son away from him and if he doesn’t tell Eda, I will.” Aydan nodded to herself.

Yes, all she needed to do was get Eda on her side and Serkan would have no choice but to seek treatment.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Eda worked out the details with the group and Efe with Serkan’s approval and input.

Efe was soon called away to a business call and left Eda to finish up with Serkan and the Art Life crew.

Once the meeting was wrapped up for the day.

Engin and Piril excused themselves they had reservations at a restaurant that Engin wanted to try.

Leyla excuse herself for the day, claiming she had to get everything in order and run a conference call.

“Did you arrange for them to leave once the meeting was over?” Eda asked, finding it too much a coincidence that they were left alone.

“No, but I find it very fortunate. Come, let’s go.” Serkan stood and straighten his suit.

“Go?” Eda repeated dubiously. “Go where?”

“Don’t you want to see the property you will be working on before we make the rest of the plans? Maybe you’ll be inspired once you see it?” Serkan asked.

Eda bit her lip. “Okay, let’s go.” she agreed, after all, she had to see the place before she could truly start in on plans for the project.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Serkan put the hood of his car down and turned the radio on.

Eda knew what he was doing as her hair in its high ponytail blew in the wind and one of her favorite songs played on the radio.

She looked over at him and even though he kept his eyes on the road, she could see the smile pulling at his lips.

It was that smile of his that was both sweet and innocent and she couldn’t help but shake her head at herself as a smile of her own pulled at her lips. Helpless to the feeling of lightness in her chest.

This moment was familiar in a good way, sitting in the passenger seat next to Serkan, the wind blowing through her hair, moving in her seat to the music. This right here, it wasn’t complicated.

Soon though the car ride ended and Serkan drove up a gravel road with scenery all around.

Eda’s eyes widened as they rounded a corner and the house seemed to rise up.

No not a house. A villa. A small villa but still a villa.

“Serkan, you said were remodeling your house,” Eda said as they came to a stop in front of the two-story Villa.

“I said the project was my home and this is my home.” Serkan corrected.

“It’s a villa,” Eda insisted.

Serkan turned the car off climbing out. Eda followed him.

“It is.” Serkan agreed. “Originally, I was going to keep it simple. Something modest but when I saw the place, I couldn’t not buy it. C’mon,” he extended his hand to her. “I’ll give you a tour.”

Eda looking around in wonder, caught up in the scenery placed her hand in his without hesitation.

Serkan marveled at the way her hand still fit perfectly in his, he curled his fingers around the delicate bone of her hands and started leading the way inside.

He kept her hand enclosed in his even as he fished the keys out of his pocket to unlock the door and opened it, ushering them inside.

Eda looked around the floor plan was open and wide and large windows, rich brown wood floors high ceilings.

“It’s beautiful,” Eda murmured. It was empty of even furniture and it the staleness in the air made it clear no one has lived here in a long time. It needed some airing out and it was dusty but overall it was beautiful.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Serkan requested, watching as her eyes lit up as she took in his home.

“What I’m thinking?” Eda repeated, bringing her focus back to him.

“Yeah, tell me what ideas you have for it. I want you to design this home as if it were your own. How do you picture it?”

“Well,” Eda turned slowly taking it on in, the fireplace, the open floors, and high ceilings, the glass windows one that looked out at a pool.

As she started speaking, Serkan soaked up every word she said like a sponge, filing it away. He had missed the way she shined with excitement, her big dark eyes were so expressive and her smile. God, her smile made him feel like anything was possible.

“What do you think?” Eda asked as she detailed her ideas for the first floor.

“I want you to have full control over the details of the project. Do whatever you want to it, whatever feels right to you.” he grabbed her hand. “Come, I want to show you something upstairs.”

Eda let him lead her to the master bedroom on the upper floor, he released her hand, drawing back floor-length curtains and pulling a set of double doors opened, revealing a wrapped around balcony of the entire villa.

Eda’s stepped out onto it and her eyes widened there was a stable and large expanse of land going for miles and not far below was a garden in need of some love and care.

It was gorgeous with so much potential.

Eda gripped onto the barricade with her hands, taken the breathtaking scenery in.

Serkan stepped forward, leaning into her pressed one hand on the barricade next to her, and brought the other around her, extending his arm to point at the land below. “I was going to buy some horses, take care of them here, build some high fences so they can run free, and update the stable.”

Eda could feel him at her back and it sent a shiver down her spine, having him close, his arms practically around her had anticipation filling her.

She turned slowly and Serkan’s arm fell grazing her arm as his eyes found hers again. “What do you think?”

Eda was too distracted to hear his words, he was close, the heat coming from his body comforting. His scent was intoxicating as she fought not to breathe him like she used to.

“Eda?” Serkan asked, he lifted his hand on the barricade and placed it on the side of her neck.

Eda’s eyes snapped up to his at the contact, his skin was warm against hers. She swallowed hard. “It’s a beautiful home.”

Serkan slid his hand up to cup her cheek. “This is the house I bought when I was going to follow you here to Italy for your studies.”

“What?” Eda felt her heart skip a beat in her chest. “This was where you were going to live?”

“When I bought it, it was with the hope that you and I would live here together, walks along the grounds, horse rides, stargazing, anything you wanted. I would have gladly given it.” Serkan brushed across her bottom lip but his eyes never left hers. “I would have given you anything, I still would.”

“Serkan..” Eda felt breathless, his words, the way he was looking at her was pulling her back into his orbit.

He has the same look in his eyes as he did when he first confessed to being in love with her and she was as helpless now to him as she was to his confession then.

Eda lifted her hand, cupping his cheek, feeling his stubble scratch against her palm.

Serkan inched closer and she leaned in, the brush of their lips as soft as rose petals.

Her hand tightened on his jaw and she arched her body, trying to get closer, Serkan's arm came closer and he slid his hand to the back of her neck.

Their lips pressed more firmly together.

Serkan’s eyes slid shut, savoring the feel of Eda in his arms and the touch of her lips.

He wanted to commit the feeling he was feeling in his chest to the memory. It’s the memory he wanted to live in when his time came to an end.

Serkan tilted her head up, deepening the kiss as her mouth opened beneath his.

God, this felt like home and he never wanted to leave.

Eda faintly heard the sound of a door and heels against the floor but she was too consumed by the feelings merging inside of her, coming to the surface as Serkan kissed her like he was learning every single inch of her.

“Serkan! Serkan!” The sound of Aydan’s voice echoed through the empty home.

Eda pulled away from Serkan her eyes wide in surprise. “Did your mom come with you, too?”

“No,” Serkan shook his head. “Mom is in Istanbul.”

Serkan reached for her again just as his name was called again this time by a male voice. “Mr. Serkan?”

Serkan's hand dropped eyes wide. “Seyfi?”

He turned and Eda followed moving toward the stairs.

“Serkan, thank god!” Aydan exclaimed. “I have been trying to reach you. I thought the worse when I couldn’t get through.”

Serkan stared down the flight of stairs and there his mother was with Seyfi.

Serkan knew he shouldn’t be angry to see his mother but damn it, she just interrupted a vital moment between him and Eda.

Can something he wanted go right just once?

He didn’t think it was too much to ask.

He was a dying man and all he wanted was Eda.

A/N: I want to say thank you to everyone who is still reading when I am the world's slowest updater.

#sen çal kapımı #edser #edser fic #fanfic #eda x serkan #eda yıldız #serkan bolat #fic: don't give up now

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forever-rogue · 5 years ago

Text

Honey & Velvet - Part 1

Summary: Ruthless CEO Max Lord is about to meet his biggest match yet in another CEO such as cunning and biting as he can be.

A/N: Yeah, I couldn’t help myself and I’m complete trash for anything Pedro does. So here we are. I don’t know many parts this will be yet either, at least several. If you’d like to be tagged, please let me know, and as always, feedback and comments are always welcome! xx

Pairing: Maxwell Lord x Reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Max Lord (he comes with his own warning); masturbation/mild smut (18+ only!!); language

MASTERLIST

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"Is there a reason you're staring at my tits, Mr. Lord?" you raised an eyebrow across the long conference table as every head snapped your direction. Twirling your pen in your fingers, you waited a few moments for a reason, any sort of explanation, but none met your ears. Just a few quiet comments exchanged by some of the others sitting near you.

Tossing the pen down with a satisfied smile, you leaned back in your chair, letting a loud creak echo through the room, "no? If that's the case, I suggest we get back to the matters at hand. I don't want to spend all evening here. And I'll remind you all, my eyes are up here, not down here."

Max gripped his pen so tightly he was surprised it didn't snap in two and break. Bringing a hand to his face, he tried to hide the scowl and flush that creeping into his cheeks at your accusations. They weren't unfounded, but he didn't need you to point that to everyone at table. How dare you embarrass him in his own office in front of all these businessmen?

You could feel him staring at you on and off throughout the rest of the meeting, but he remained silent. You could see him scribbling a few notes down, practically hear the gears turning in his head. It was hard to avoid looking over at him, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of meeting his eyes again. You settled for a victorious little grin instead, making a point to give whoever you were speaking to your full attention, leaning over in way that made just enough of your cleavage display.

As soon as the meeting concluded, Maxwell was the first one out of the room, not bothering to say anything to anyone as he stormed back to his personal office, ignoring calls of his name from his employees. He needed to calm down before he was anymore harsh than normal, and right now he could only think of one way. The straining in his pants caused directly by you could only be alleviated by one thing, and right now it was all he could think about.

Tossing his notepad and pen absentmindedly onto his desk, Max made sure the door to the over the top, extravagant office was locked and palmed himself over his trousers, a small sound, somewhere between a moan and a hiss escaped his lips. Undoing the button and fly of his pants he quickly tugged them down, pulling his hardened length out of his briefs. He let out a small sound at the relief of being free from the confines of tight pants. Closing his dark eyes, almost black due to his arousal, he ran his hand over his length, gathering a few beads of precum that had already dribbled out of his tip and spread it over his cock. He knew he wouldn’t last long, and while he worked himself, he imagined it was your mouth around him, rather than his hand. How he wished he could fuck that pretty little mouth of yours, maybe then you would have shut up for a moment.

The singular thought of you around his cock was enough to cause him to thrust wildly into his hand and he bit down on his bottom lip in order to keep from making any sounds as he came and spilled his seed all over his hand.

Flopping down in his chair, he allowed himself to catch his breath for a moment before grabbing a silk handkerchief from his desk drawer and cleaning himself up. He kept a small stack of monogrammed handkerchiefs in there for just such an occasion; usually they were used to clean up the whatever girl he was fucking that week.

As he came down from his high, a loud knock came at his door and he quickly scrambled to throw the piece of soft fabric into the drawer and slam it shut, tucking his still sensitive cock back into his pants. After a few beats of rushed silence, the knock came again and he let out an annoyed sound, “hold on!”

Max looked at himself in the mirror, ornate and over the top, because what else would be in his office, straightening his blonde locks before striding over to the door. He cleared his throat and before opening the door slowly and finding himself face to face with none other than you.

“Mr. Lord,” you beamed at him, your ruby red lips pulled in a perfect smile. Of course, he internally groaned to himself, you would show up now, almost like you could tell he’d just been fantasizing about you. You’d purposefully left the top few buttons of your blouse undone, your blazer draped over your arm as you looked him up and down. You noticed that he was slightly out of his breath, a few locks of hair out of place, “is this a bad time?”

“No,” he barked, making it a point to focus on your eyes and not let them roam all over your body, “what do you want, Y/N?”

“Hmm,” you made a small amused sound, noting that he pointedly your name rolled off of his tongue, “most people refer to me as Miss L/N, but I suppose I’ll overlook that.”

“If we’re going to be working so closely together, I don’t see the need for formalities,” gods, you were already pushing each and every one of his buttons, “unless that’s a problem for you?”

“Lack of formalities is not a problem,” you answered, “but lack of respect is. Do you have a problem with me, Max? Is there a reason you don’t seem to respect me like you do all of our male colleagues?”

“I have no qualms with working with you or any woman,” it was only a half lie. He much preferred working with men, but could deal working with women. He usually reserved that for the bedroom, however, we they working under him. That was his preference in the work place as well. He was the one in charge and he made sure people knew that.

“I see,” you gave him a slight nod, narrowing your eyes to make sure he knew that you didn’t quite believe him. You’d heard enough about him from others in the business, and the tabloids to know exactly what type of man he was, “then next time we’re in a meeting maybe you could show me some respect? And not just oogle me like I’m some piece of meat.”

“Your accusations are wholly unfounded-”

“Are they?” you countered, hiking your bag further up your shoulder, frustrated with him already. You had come to his office in the vain hope that you could have a civil conversation with him, but apparently that wasn’t going to happen. He really was, at least so far, what everyone was saying about him.

“If you’ve come here to try and get me to admit to something I didn’t do,” he pursed his lips and gave you a cocky smile, “then you’re wasting your time. If you’ve come here to try and annoy me, you’ve succeeded.”

“You really are everything they say, aren’t you?” you forced yourself to put on a smile as sweet as honey as you watched him closely. If he thought he was going to break you down or instill some sort of fear in you, he was sorely mistaken. You hadn’t made your way to the top, to be the CEO of your own company, by bowing down to men like him. No, you tore down men like him, and left them begging you for mercy.

Letting out a breathy chuckle, he reached up and grabbed your jaw and forcing you to look directly in his face. He gained a small sense of satisfaction knowing that was the hand that been covered in his own cum moments before you had shown up.

“Just what do they say about me little girl?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous. You weren’t even going to deny that it send a warm shiver down your spine; a sensation that you were reluctant to give into, “tell me.”

“That you’re a ruthless businessman,” you admitted, grabbing his wrist and pulling his hand away from your face, “who doesn’t respect anyone but himself. An over-privileged trust fund baby who is used to getting whatever he wants, and doesn’t like people challenging him.”

“And what do you think?”

“I think that they’re right,” you shrugged innocently, trying to keep your voice from becoming laced with too much venom. After all, you always attracted more flies with honey rather than vinegar, “but I also think you’re just a scared man. You don’t like to lose control, you don’t like anyone else having any sort of power. You don’t like women having power over you. And you particularly don’t like me. Please, tell me if I’m wrong.”

He chuckled, a dark sound that would have scared most other people, but not you. It only made your resolve to break him down stronger. You weren’t about to let this arrogant asshole hold any sort of power over you. He licked his lips as his deep, velvet brown eyes stared into yours, “I don’t have to convince you of anything. I know who I am, and what I’m capable of. And I’m not about to let some bitch like you boss me around with whatever little power you have.”

You tried to hide the surprise on your face at his cold tone, your hand itching to slap him across the face, letting your shiny, manicured nails leave scratches across his cheek. Instead, you remained silent, keeping your face neutral as you let the words hang thickly in the air. After a few moments of silence, you rolled your eyes at him, “are you finished with your little tirade?”

“Excuse me?”

“You do realize that I’m in the same position of power as you, correct?” you asked sweetly, “and that your weak little attempts to scare me aren’t going to work. I’ve dealt with men like you my whole life, starting with my own father, and none of them have managed to break me. And neither will you, Mr. Lord. Your company needs mine, so if you want to keep our agreement going, you’d do well to show me some respect. If that’s too hard for you, I recommend we dissolve our little venture here and now. So, what’s it going to be?”

Max remained silent as he mulled over your words. People never spoke to him like this, especially not a woman like you. He knew your story, knew that you didn’t come from a background like his. He admired that you had climbed your way up from the very bottom to being at the top, but he’d be hard pressed to admit that. He’d never give you the satisfaction.

“If you’re done pretending to be a big girl now, you can go,” he leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest, looking like the essence of calm and cool, “if you think you’re going to come into my building, my office, and try to boss me around, you’re sorely mistaken. You’re just some little girl, thinking she can run with the big boys. You’re not cut out for this sweetheart, so you might as well learn some respect for your superiors.”

That was the moment you decided that you hated him. Those words were dripping in spite and anger, and you really, really, wanted to wipe that smirk off of his face. But you decided not to do anything, instead, you’d let him go on thinking he had the upper hand. He would be his downfall, and you’d be right there to laugh at him in the end.

“I guess I should be going,” you deadpanned as you turned to leave. You could feel his gaze immediately fall onto your backside, “I’ll see you around, Mr. Lord.”

He made no sound as you turned to leave, but you couldn’t help but press your luck even further, “next time you decide to...have some fun in your office, you might want to clean up a little better. Your poor trousers are absolutely ruined.”

His eyes widened as he looked down at his crotch and internally cursed himself when he saw that there was indeed a wet spot on the front. He thought he had been so careful, so slick, but apparently he was more like a horny teenager than anything else. You shot him a cheeky wink, “I guess it doesn’t matter anyway, those pants were so last season.”

With that you decided to leave before anything else happened or he somehow completely snapped. It wasn’t much to leave on, but it was better than nothing.

But Max just couldn’t leave it, no, that was not in his nature. Instead, he watched the sway of your hips, admiring how your ass looked in the perfectly fitted skirt you had decided to wear. Just before you reached the end of the hall to enter the elevator, he called to you, “I do respect women, Miss L/N. Just usually when they’re directly under me.”

You stiffened at his words, willing yourself not to turn around and indulge him in another verbal showdown, instead focusing on buttons and pressing the elevator call button rapidly. Annoyance was flowing through every fiber of your being.

When the elevator finally came and you got in, you pressed the button for the bottom floor and let out a sigh of relief. As you leaned against the cool metal, relief against your warm skin, you peeked to see if Max was still there, just as the doors were closing. He was. And he was staring right at you, an unreadable expression on his face. It was dark, menacing, evil even, but something about it went right to the growing ache being your legs.

When you got home that night, you discarded your clothes rapidly, leaving them in a trail to your bathroom as you turned on the shower and stepped inside. You turned the water as high as it could go to, hoping to scrub every bit of Maxwell Lord off of you.

But you’d never, ever, admit you only did so after you touched yourself to the thought of him. The thought of him between your legs, getting you off with only his mouth. The thought of him taking you in his office, bent over his desk as he fucked you mercilessly.

You tried to refrain from whimpering out as his name as you came all over your hand, pretending it was his own, wishing it was his, but it was no use. It was sad, pathetic even, how desperate he had made you, despite how much you loathed him.

Maxwell Lord would be the death of you.

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#max lord #maxwell lord #maxwell lord x reader #ww84 #ww84 fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #reader insert #max lord x reader

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