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estellan0vella · 8 months ago

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File It Under N For No One Gives A Fuck: H.JS Han Jisung x fem!wife!reader (Police AU)

WC: 8.1K

CW: mentions of drugs, mentions of anthrax, threats of divorce, talks of sex and inappropriate use of department handcuffs, Chan being a stressed out Captain

General Masterlist SKZ Masterlist

You step into the bustling precinct, your senses immediately absorbing the energy around you. Phones ring, radios squawk, officers shout to each other across the room, and every so often, there’s a burst of laughter from one of the clusters of desks. It’s your day off from the ER, a break from the endless flow of patients, the constant blare of monitors, and the adrenaline-fueled rush that never seems to end. You still want a taste of that energy, though, so here you are, coffee in hand for your husband Jisung and a few of his colleagues.

You navigate your way through the bullpen, a light blue summer dress brushing against your knees, and your white wedges clicking softly against the tile. Your white sunglasses sit perched on your head, holding back your hair, and the scent of freshly brewed coffee follows you as you carry a tray with four cups, each labelled with a different name: yours, Jisung’s, Felix’s, and Minho’s.

As your eyes sweep the room, they land on Felix, slumped back in his chair with a familiar air of exhaustion, his head tipped back, and his arms dangling off the sides as if the world’s weight has finally crushed him. You grin, making a beeline for him. Dropping into the chair opposite his desk, you slide his coffee across to him with a smirk.

“Look what the coffee fairy brought,” you announce, leaning back with an amused glint in your eye.

Felix blinks down at the cup before his face lights up with pure, unfiltered joy. “You absolute angel! I swear, I love you right now. Like, I’m dangerously close to kissing you.”

You laugh, the sound bubbling up before you can stop it. “Jisung would shoot you. No warning, just bang. Right between the eyes.”

Felix chuckles, shaking his head as he picks up his coffee, inhaling the aroma before taking a grateful sip. “Fucking worth it. Honestly, I’d risk it.”

As he drinks, his eyes drift over you, assessing your outfit with a dramatic once-over. He tilts his head, lips curling into a mischievous grin. “Okay, but why do you look like you’re about to star in some cheesy rom-com? Seriously, who are you trying to impress here, and why isn’t it me?”

You roll your eyes, glancing down at yourself as if seeing your outfit for the first time. “Can’t a woman look nice on her day off? I’m visiting my husband, Felix. I get to look like something other than a sleep-deprived ER nurse covered in mystery fluids. Plus, it’s hot outside.”

He smirks, the glint in his eyes growing sharper. “Suspiciously nice, if you ask me.”

Before you can fire back, Minho appears at Felix’s side, his eyes zeroing in on the cup with his name scrawled across it. With a smirk, he grabs it, taking a slow, satisfied sip. “Hmm, just the way I like it. Thanks. You know, you really should leave Jisung and marry me instead. Think about it: we’d be a power couple.”

You deadpan, barely blinking as you retort, “Absolutely not. I’d have to explain your ‘disappearance’ to a jury, and I’m not confident I could sell a self-defence story.” You pause, then add, “Also, your actual wife might take issue with you running off with your buddy’s wife.”

Felix bursts out laughing, nearly choking on his coffee. “Oh my god, I’d pay good money to see her kick your ass, Minho.”

Minho raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “I’m just saying, you talk a big game. But between you and me, I’m pretty sure I could handle you.”

You lean forward, a challenging grin playing on your lips. “Jisung handles me just fine, he doesn't need your help.”

Just as Minho opens his mouth to respond, Jisung walks up, and you see the flicker of amusement in his eyes. “Excuse me, what did I just walk into?”

“Nothing. Just Minho being his usual self,” you reply sweetly, holding out his coffee. “I brought you this.”

Jisung’s face softens, his eyes warming as he takes the cup from you and leans down to press a kiss against your cheek. “What would I do without you?”

“Crash and burn, probably,” you say, grinning up at him.

��Can confirm,” Felix chimes in, lazily leaning back in his chair and clearly enjoying the banter. “You’d be fucked without her, man.”

Jisung rolls his eyes, looking between you and his friends. “Glad to know my friends have so much faith in me.”

He glances back at you, taking in the dress, and a small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “You do look amazing, by the way. Makes me want to ditch the precinct and-”

“Absolutely not. None of that in here,” Minho interrupts, raising a hand as if to physically block whatever Jisung was about to suggest. “I get enough of your lovey-dovey nonsense on a regular basis. This is a professional environment, thank you very much.”

You snort, rolling your eyes. “Right, because you’re the embodiment of professionalism, Minho. Never crossed a line in your life, right?”

“I am a paragon of professionalism,” he says, deadpan, puffing up like a proud peacock.

Felix snickers, shaking his head as he takes another sip. “Oh yeah? ‘Paragon of professionalism’? If that’s what we’re calling it now, sure. But remember that time your wife came to visit and Chan caught the two of you going at it in the men’s locker room?”

Minho’s face flushes slightly, but he tries to play it off, lifting his coffee and taking a long sip, refusing to break his stoic facade. “It was a passionate reunion.”

“Oh, we all know,” Felix says, grinning. “We all heard her moaning. Pretty sure they heard it over in the evidence room too.”

You snicker, raising an eyebrow at Minho. “Paragon of professionalism, huh?”

Minho’s face turns even redder, and he mutters into his coffee, “One incident. Just one.”

Jisung chuckles, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “See, that’s why I stick to public displays of affection in small doses. Less memorable.”

“Yeah, like that time you two were making out in the break room,” Felix says, smirking.

You feign innocence, looking up at Jisung. “I have no idea what he’s talking about. Clearly, he’s delusional.”

Jisung nods, playing along. “Absolutely. Must be all those late shifts, messing with his mind.”

Felix rolls his eyes, leaning forward with a mischievous grin. “Alright, alright. But just remember: if there’s any scandal around here, it’s usually because of you married lot. Meanwhile, I’m the model of restraint.”

Minho opens his mouth, likely to lob a sarcastic comment Felix's way, but the door to Captain Bang Chan’s office swings open with a sharp, foreboding creak. Chan strides out with a look of grim determination on his face that instantly makes your stomach drop. You know that look. Everyone does. It’s the kind of look that’s never followed by good news.

“All right, listen up!” Chan’s voice cuts through the chaotic murmur of the bullpen, slicing the noise in half as everyone freezes and turns toward him. “We’ve just received a credible threat of an anthrax attack on the station. Until further notice, we’re in lockdown. No one gets in or out.”

A stunned silence follows his words, the gravity of it crashing over the room like a wave. Anthrax. Of all things. It feels like the air itself thickens, every eye in the room locked on Chan, processing the information. You’re the first to break the silence.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you groan, throwing your hands up with dramatic exasperation. “I swear, I am never doing anything nice for any of you ever again. Here I am, on my day off, bringing real Italian coffee straight from my hometown, like the good wife and friend that I am, and now I’m fucking trapped here because some maniac decides today’s a great day to mess with a biochemistry set?!”

Felix snorts into his coffee, trying to hide his laughter, while Minho’s mouth twitches in barely contained amusement. Jisung’s shoulders shake as he attempts to keep a straight face. He reaches out, taking your hand gently and rubbing calming circles over your knuckles. “Jagiya-”

“No! Don’t ‘jagiya’ me right now,” you huff, narrowing your eyes at him. “This is exactly what I get for trying to do something nice.”

Jisung, his lips still curved in a soft smile, gives your hand a gentle squeeze. “Come on, let’s go sit at my desk. You can yell at me there, and maybe the world will make sense again.”

With a dramatic sigh, you allow him to lead you across the bullpen. You drag your feet with exaggerated reluctance, muttering a steady stream of colourful Italian curses under your breath. Jisung, still holding back laughter, takes the two remaining coffees from you as you settle yourself in his chair, folding your arms and glaring at the room like an affronted cat.

“That’s my seat, you know,” Jisung says, raising an eyebrow at you, clearly amused.

You fix him with a glare, your voice dripping with mock indignation. “It was your seat until your wife, out of the kindness of her heart, decided to do something nice for you and wound up smack in the middle of an anthrax threat. So, I think I deserve the chair, don’t you?”

Jisung chuckles, sitting down in the spare chair beside you and sliding your coffee over. “Fair enough,” he concedes, grinning. “And, for the record, thank you for the coffee. Even if we’re potentially in a biohazard zone.”

Your annoyance softens, just a bit, as you take a sip. “You’re welcome. I should start charging extra for hazard pay, though.”

You reach over to one of Jisung’s desk drawers, half-listening to the murmurs around you as people process the lockdown news. Your fingers brush a small packet at the edge of the drawer, and suddenly—

PFFFFT!

A white cloud bursts from the drawer, coating you and Jisung in a fine layer of white powder. You freeze, eyes wide, and for a second, the bullpen goes completely silent. The two of you stare at each other in shock, blinking through the powder.

Jisung sputters, wiping at his eyes with a grimace, before deadpanning, “I’ve never hoped something was cocaine more in my life.”

“Oh, my god,” Minho groans from across the room, his hand rubbing over his face in disbelief. “During an anthrax lockdown, you open a drawer, and a packet of white powder explodes. Seriously?”

You sit there, a mix of horror and resignation, before letting out a long, exasperated sigh. “Well, if it’s anthrax,” you mutter, throwing your hands up, “at least we’ll die together. So fucking romantic, right?”

Jisung lets out a resigned sigh, rolling up his sleeves. He gives you a sly smile. “You considering divorce yet?”

You snort, still trying to dust the powder off yourself. “Not a chance. I need that sweet, sweet overtime money.”

He laughs, his warm, familiar laugh that lightens the absurdity just a bit. As he leans back, wiping powder off his arms, you both notice Felix leaning, wide-eyed, clearly in awe of the sheer absurdity.

“Y/N,” he says, barely holding back laughter, “please, for the love of all things caffeinated, do not stop bringing us coffee. Even if you’re dead. Like, send it from the afterlife or something.”

You roll your eyes, a grin tugging at your lips. “Trust me, if this is anthrax, we’re all toast anyway, so get praying, Lix.”

Felix gives a melodramatic sigh, glancing at the powder-dusted desk with exaggerated despair. “Well, if you die, and I survive, I’ll make the most epic playlist for your funeral. It’ll be a symphony of tragic bangers.”

You chuckle, brushing some powder off your hand. “Appreciate the thought. I’ll haunt you if it isn’t perfect.”

Jisung leans back, watching you spin slowly in his desk chair, one hand still gripping your coffee. He raises an eyebrow, eyes twinkling with barely contained laughter. “You know,” you say. “I always thought a brush with death would be a little more dramatic.”

Jisung chuckles, sipping his coffee. “If it is anthrax, we’re in for a hell of a time, though, right?”

“Oh, for sure,” you nod, launching into a cheerful explanation. “It’ll be nausea, chest pain, coughing up blood, then more pain, and then bam! Dead. Pretty straightforward.”

Minho, still dusting powder off himself, makes a face. “Jesus, Y/N, couldn’t you sugarcoat it?”

You lean forward with a wicked grin. “No, but I could anthrax-coat it.”

Jisung laughs so hard he nearly spills his coffee, shaking his head. “You’re awful,” he says, eyes crinkling with amusement.

Minho stares at the two of you, visibly disturbed. “You two are fucking insane. I’m not dying with you clowns.”

As if on cue, Minho reaches to open his desk drawer and PFFFFT! Another puff of white powder explodes into his face. He jerks back, sputtering and swatting at the cloud around him.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” he shouts, coughing as he frantically waves his hands to clear the powder. His eyes dart around the room in horror as he sees the fine dust settling on his shirt.

And then, as if on cue, there’s another PFFFFT! from Jeongin’s desk, sending a similar cloud of white powder into the air.

One by one, desks throughout the bullpen erupt in clouds of powder, each explosion met with gasps, curses, and shouts of “What the hell?!”

Now, at least seven officers stand in powder-covered horror, looking around at each other like deer caught in headlights.

You lean back in Jisung’s chair, arms folded, and let out a theatrical sigh. “It’s like a damn anthrax snowglobe in here.”

Chan stands in the middle of the chaos, looking around with a deadpan expression and slowly rubbing his temples. “This- this is just fucking fantastic,” he mutters. “Seven packets of possible anthrax. All opened. In my station. At once.”

He turns to you, eyes narrowing with a desperate look. “Y/N, you’re a nurse. If this is anthrax-”

“Oh, we’ll all die, no question,” you say far too casually, waving a dismissive hand. “Very unpleasantly, but yeah. It’ll be over soon. Painful but quick”

Jisung gives you a nudge, his smile widening. “You sure you’re not sugarcoating it just a little?”

You tilt your head, pretending to think about it. “Nope. Just straight facts.”

Minho, wiping powder from his face with a look of pure frustration, groans. “You’ve got to be kidding me. All these years on the force, and this is how I go?”

“Tragic,” Felix says, eyeing the powder on his desk like it’s a mortal insult. “I always thought I’d go out in style. You know, something heroic like leaping from a helicopter or rescuing someone from a burning building. This is just fucking depressing.”

You look around, dusted, exhausted, and oddly exhilarated by the chaos. “Well, when life gives you anthrax…” you trail off with a shrug.

Felix raises his coffee cup in salute. “We all go out covered in powder, blood and vomit.”

And with a weary shake of his head, Chan walks back into his office, muttering something about a "transfer request form" under his breath as the bullpen erupts in laughter once more.

Four hours later, the precinct feels like a tomb, the initial panic over the anthrax threat having decayed into a sluggish boredom that clings to the room like a fog.

Felix stares dead-eyed into his cup, as if expecting it to reveal some hidden truth, while Minho, growing increasingly restless, has resorted to flicking crumpled paper balls at the back of Jeongin’s head. Each hit makes Jeongin flinch, but he’s too tired to even retaliate, just accepting Minho's antics.

You’re leaned back in Jisung’s chair, spinning lazily every now and then as if the motion might somehow break up the monotony. Your coffee, now cold, sits forgotten in your hand, and Jisung, ever the optimist, sits beside you, trying to make light conversation.

“Hey, at least we have each other’s company, right?” he says, nudging you with a hopeful smile.

You raise an eyebrow, unimpressed. “It’s my day off, Jisung. I didn’t exactly plan on spending it in lockdown with a possible anthrax scare and shitty coffee.”

Before he can respond, the heavy clomp of boots echoes down the hallway. Your head snaps up, eyes locking onto the doorway just as two men in hazmat suits stride in, their suits rustling like whispers of salvation. You sit up slightly, watching them like they’re some sort of mirage, the long-lost cavalry finally arriving to end this dreary nightmare.

“Well, it’s about fucking time,” you mutter, your eyes following the men as they approach Chan, who looks about as thrilled as a man in his position could look.

Jisung leans over with a small smile, his voice barely above a whisper. “At least they’re here now.”

“Here now?” you scoff, turning to him with an incredulous look. “If this had actually been anthrax, we’d be dead already. What kind of response time is this? They took four hours, Jisung. Four. Do they think we’re immune?”

He stifles a laugh, but you can see his amusement in the crinkle at the corners of his eyes. Meanwhile, the hazmat men gesture to Chan, their voices muffled by their masks as they deliver what must be a lengthy explanation of protocols and procedures. Chan nods, his shoulders slumping just slightly as he listens.

After a few minutes, Chan clears his throat, his voice cutting through the room with forced authority. “Listen up, everyone! Hazmat just informed me that we could be here for another four to nine hours, depending on how long it takes them to conduct all necessary tests.”

A collective groan rises from the bullpen. Before anyone else can react, you whirl around to Jisung, fixing him with a dramatic, accusing stare.

“Divorce,” you declare, pointing at him with a flourish. “Effective immediately”

Jisung nearly chokes on his coffee, eyes wide. “What?!”

You stand up, throwing your arms out in exasperation, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’ve been stuck in this station for hours, with a looming potential biohazard threat. Anthrax or not, this is not how I wanted to spend my day off. This-” you gesture wildly at the room, encompassing the bored, powder-dusted officers around you. “is your fault, Jisung. All of it.”

Jisung stares at you, mouth half-open as he searches for words. “I…how is this my fault? I didn’t exactly order an anthrax scare for our quality time.”

“Oh, but it’s your job that dragged me into this mess!” you say, throwing your hands up again. “I could be at home, in a bathrobe, binge-watching crime dramas from the comfort of our couch. But no. I brought coffee here because I’m a supportive spouse, and now I’m paying the price for marrying you.”

Before Jisung can defend himself, Chan steps in, his voice cutting through like a referee at a boxing match. “Y/N,” he says, an amused smile tugging at his lips, “I’ll call the hospital and get you the day off tomorrow if that’ll make this any easier.”

You cross your arms, narrowing your eyes at Jisung with exaggerated triumph. “Well, would you look at that, Jisung? Your captain just saved our marriage.”

Across the room, Felix, who’s been slumped over his desk in a near-sleep state, perks up, chuckling into his hand. “Shit, Chan is pulling out the big guns. Saving marriages and shit.”

Jisung sighs, holding his hands up in a gesture of defeat as he chuckles. “Guess I owe him one.”

“You owe me more than that,” you mutter, sinking back into the chair and resuming your lazy spinning. “The day off and a full spa day when this is over.”

Jisung grins, leaning back with a playful look in his eyes. “Whatever you want, jagiya. Just as long as I don’t have to file those divorce papers.”

Minho, who’s been watching the entire exchange with a smirk, decides to chime in. “If she divorces you, Jisung, I’ll swoop right in. I mean, who wouldn’t want a spouse who brings Italian coffee in a potential biohazard situation?”

Felix snickers. “If you and Y/N got married, the world would implode. Too much chaos in one household.”

You shake your head, stifling a laugh as you look at Minho with a teasing smirk. “You’d never survive, Minho. One bad day, and I’d have you crying into your cereal.”

“Challenge accepted,” he says, his eyes glinting with mischief.

Chan sighs from his spot, still half-listening to the hazmat team’s explanations. “Enough with the matchmaking. If I have to sit through another hour of marriage talk, I’m filing a transfer request.”

Felix chuckles, leaning over to you with a conspiratorial grin. “Captain Bang, mediator of biohazard romances. Didn’t know it was part of the job description.”

“Must be in the fine print,” Chan mutters, shaking his head. "And I wish I had fucking read it properly"

One of the hazmat techs finally steps forward, addressing the room in a slightly garbled voice through his mask. “All right, folks, we’re going to start testing samples now. Please remain calm, avoid unnecessary movements, and try not to touch anything you don’t need to.”

The room collectively exhales in tired resignation. Minho raises his hand, deadpan. “Define ‘unnecessary movements.’”

The hazmat tech stares at him, either confused or completely done with the situation, it’s hard to tell through the mask. “Just sit tight, sir.”

Felix snickers, muttering under his breath, “The real anthrax scare is how bored we’re all going to be by hour nine.”

Jeongin, who’s been silently enduring Minho’s paper ball attacks, speaks up, a note of desperation in his voice. “If we’re going to be here for that long, can we at least get some food? We’ll starve at this rate.”

“Starve?” Minho raises an eyebrow, picking up his discarded coffee cup. “Nah, we’ll be fine. If we get desperate, we can always resort to cannibalism. Starting with Felix.”

Felix sputters, looking genuinely appalled. “Excuse me? Why me?”

“Self-preservation,” Minho replies smoothly. “You’re the smallest. Least resistance.”

Jeongin, unable to hide his grin, chimes in, “Plus, I bet you’d be like the chicken nugget of the group, Felix. Small, bite-sized.”

Felix rolls his eyes, tossing a paper ball at Jeongin. “I’m a gourmet meal, thank you very much. You’d all be lucky to have a piece.”

Jisung leans over, watching the hazmat team set up their equipment with growing fascination. “Is it bad that I’m sort of curious now? I mean, if this actually is anthrax, we’re kind of making history here.”

You look at him, incredulous. “History? History? If it is anthrax, we’ll be coughing up blood and dying in a very unglamorous way, Jisung. That’s not exactly the kind of legacy I had in mind.”

He shrugs, grinning. “Could make for a hell of a story, though.”

You stare at him, shaking your head. “The next time you want a story, we’re sticking to action movies, not anthrax.”

The hazmat techs start running their samples, and the room falls back into a dull, exhausted silence. You recline in Jisung’s chair, closing your eyes, already imagining the blissful tranquility of a spa day—a very overdue, very earned spa day.

After a while, Felix breaks the silence, his voice low and almost wistful. “You know, if we make it out of this alive, I think I’m going to adopt a cat. Just something small and not life-threatening.”

Jeongin snorts. “You’ll have to survive this lockdown first, man. Don’t go making promises you can’t keep.”

You chuckle, throwing an arm around Jisung’s shoulder. “Fine by me. But if one more puff of powder goes off, I swear, I’m taking the first plane back to Italy and leaving you all to fend for yourselves.”

Jisung just laughs, resting his head against yours. “Whatever you want, jagiya. I'll get on the plane with you.”

Another five gruelling hours crawl by, and the precinct has transformed into a restless prison of boredom and frustration. The air is thick, and stagnant, punctuated only by Felix’s occasional sighs and the relentless tap-tap-tap of Minho’s fingers drumming on his desk. Everyone’s slumped, sprawled out, or halfway to sleep when the two hazmat guys finally reappear, their footsteps echoing like a siren of salvation.

You sit up, barely daring to hope, as the hazmat team heads straight to Chan. After a low, muffled conversation, Chan’s face twists into a mask of pure exasperation. He turns back to the bullpen, the entire room watching him with expectant, tired eyes.

“All right, listen up!” he calls, and every officer straightens slightly, waiting. “The tests are done.” Chan sighs, pausing for what feels like an eternity. “The powder is harmless. A mix of…skin irritants. Talcum powder, cornstarch, and”—he pauses, clearly trying to keep his composure—“itching powder.”

A split second of stunned silence, then the room erupts.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Minho’s hands slam down on his desk as he surges to his feet, his voice a full octave higher than usual. “Nine hours locked down for itching powder?!”

Felix lets out a long, theatrical groan, slumping back in his chair like he might just dissolve into the floor. “Nine hours of this hell, and all we needed was a good rinse in the shower?”

Everywhere around you, officers are grumbling, voices overlapping as they process the absurdity of the past hours. You can’t take another second of it, not Minho’s complaining, not Felix’s endless sighing, not even Jeongin’s eye-rolling. You reach into Jisung’s desk drawer, grab one of the remaining powder packets, and before you can think better of it, you hurl it directly at Minho’s face.

The packet explodes on impact, a cloud of white dust billowing around him. There’s a split-second of silence before laughter explodes through the bullpen, ringing off the walls. Felix slides off his chair, practically wheezing as he gasps for breath, and Jeongin is clapping, grinning like you’ve just performed the greatest prank in the world.

Minho splutters, wiping powder from his eyes, his expression a blend of betrayal and disbelief. “Y/N! You took an oath to do no harm!”

You fold your arms, raising an eyebrow. “Nope. That’s the doctor’s oath. I’m a nurse. Totally different.”

He glares at you, dusted in white powder like a disgruntled snowman. “Unbelievable. Nine hours of hell, and this is how I’m treated? I’m filing a report, mark my words.”

Jisung snickers, reaching over to pat your shoulder. “Go ahead, file it under N. For No one gives a fuck.”

Felix, still practically in tears from laughter, chimes in, “Or under T, for Talk to someone who fucking cares.”

Jeongin joins in, his face lit up with mischievous glee. “Or S, for Shut the fuck up, no one gives a shit.”

Hyunjin, who’s been scrolling on his phone the whole time, doesn’t even look up. “Or D, for Don’t give a fuck.”

Minho’s eyes widen, his jaw dropping as he looks around the room, his face a mask of disbelief and faux betrayal. “I’m being bullied by my own subordinates! This is harassment!”

From his desk, Chan finally speaks, his voice weary and deadpan. “Minho, shut the fuck up.”

Minho’s hands fly to his chest in mock agony, his tone an exaggerated whine. “Now I’m being bullied by the big boss! This is it. No one loves me anymore!”

You lean back in your chair, grinning as you taunt, “I bet even your wife is done with your shit. She’s probably using this lockdown as the perfect chance to call her divorce lawyer.”

Felix’s eyes gleam with wicked delight as he gasps dramatically, “Filed under D, for Disappointing dick game!”

Minho’s face flushes a deep crimson, his eyes bulging as he points a finger at Felix. “Disappointing dick game? You little—”

Chan raises his hands, his face pale with horror as he plugs his ears. “Nope. Nope. Not touching this one. Not taking it to HR.”

You lean forward, eyes glinting with mischief. “You could always file it under O, for One-pump chump.”

Jisung nearly falls out of his chair, laughing so hard his coffee almost spills. Felix has rolled onto the floor, clutching his stomach as he gasps for air, and the rest of the officers are chuckling, some tossing balled-up paper and pen caps at Minho, who looks moments away from either combusting or joining in the chaos.

Minho straightens, arms crossed as he tries to look dignified. “All right, don’t think I won’t shoot every last one of you and then myself!”

Felix, propping himself up on one elbow from his spot on the floor, grins up at Minho. “With your aim, Minho? You’d miss yourself and take out half the precinct’s ceiling instead.”

Laughter ripples through the room again, some officers nearly falling out of their chairs, and even Chan has a hand covering his mouth, clearly struggling not to join in.

Minho raises an eyebrow, trying to regain control as he looks over at Chan. “Captain, I’m seriously filing a complaint. This is hostile work environment behaviour.”

Chan’s gaze turns steely, but his lips are twitching as he struggles to hold back laughter. “Minho, one more word, and I’ll personally throw you out of the window.”

Minho huffs, crossing his arms like a petulant child. “Fine. Just know that when I finally lose it, none of you will be safe.”

You glance over at him, raising an eyebrow. “Lose it? Minho, you lost it the day you joined this precinct. You’re a ticking time bomb of mild inconveniences.”

Jeongin nods, grinning. “Pretty sure your wife would agree, too. She’s probably planning her exit strategy as we speak.”

Felix smirks, winking at Minho. “Filed under M, for Maybe if you were better in bed.”

The room howls with laughter as Minho’s face turns an even deeper shade of red, and you can almost see the smoke rising from his ears. He holds up a finger, shaking it at Felix. “You better hope I don’t catch you in the locker room after this, Lee Felix.”

Felix shrugs, unphased, throwing a playful salute as he leans back in his chair. “Bring it on, grandpa. I can take you.”

Without warning, you walk over to Minho's desk, grab the last remaining packet of powder, and in one smooth motion, smush it directly into his face. There’s a split second of stunned silence before the bullpen erupts in laughter and cheers. Felix lets out a gleeful whoop, practically falling off his chair, while Jeongin laughs so hard he’s clutching his stomach.

Minho sputters, wiping at the powder coating his hair and face, his eyes wide with indignation. “You! I’m going to arrest you for assaulting an officer!” he shouts, launching himself from his chair and charging after you.

You’re already darting across the bullpen, laughter bubbling out of you as you throw a cheeky glance over your shoulder. “Oh yeah? And who’s going to patch you up next time you hurt your wrist being handcuffed to the headboard with your departmentally issued cuffs while getting down and dirty with your wife?”

The bullpen falls silent for a second, jaws dropping as they process your words. Then Felix lets out an ear-splitting scream. “Oh my god! Minho’s sprained wrist was a sex injury?!”

Minho halts mid-chase, face flushing crimson as he slaps a hand over his eyes. “We swore to secrecy!” he protests, his voice cracking with embarrassment.

You duck behind Felix’s desk, grinning wickedly. “Did we? Because I don’t seem to remember that.”

Felix, now nearly in tears, doubles over in his chair, barely able to catch his breath. “This is officially the best day of my life,” he manages to gasp out.

Minho lunges toward you again, but you spring over the desk like a gymnast, dodging his grasp with ease. He stops in his tracks, watching you with a mixture of exasperation and grudging admiration. “Are you some kind of burglar in your spare time?”

You laugh, tossing him a wink. “Had to be, to pick those damn cuffs you left lying around!”

Laughter erupts around the room again, with even Chan chuckling under his breath. Minho, panting and glaring at you, looks around for backup but finds only grins and raised eyebrows. He turns to Jisung, who’s leaning back in his chair, thoroughly entertained. “I’m arresting your wife, Han. You better be ready to bail her out.”

Jisung’s grin widens as he stretches back comfortably. “Go ahead and try. I’ll tase you before you can even get the cuffs out.”

Minho narrows his eyes, crossing his arms. “Oh, so now you’re threatening to tase me?”

Jisung shrugs, lifting his coffee cup in a lazy salute. “If it means protecting my wife, absolutely.”

The room breaks into another round of laughter, with Jeongin egging you on, a glint of mischief in his eyes as he hands you yet another packet of powder. “Here. Third time’s the charm.”

Minho stares at you, eyes wide as he holds up his hands in surrender. “I am serious about this arrest, Y/N,” he growls, his face still dusted with powder.

You raise an eyebrow, grinning. “Great, but if you do, can you at least use someone else’s handcuffs? I don’t want any residue from your…extra-curriculars.”

The entire room dissolves into hysterics again, Felix’s cackles echoing off the walls as he practically falls out of his chair. Minho’s face grows redder and redder as he points accusingly at Jisung. “This! This is who you married?!” His voice is incredulous, the words practically dripping with mock disgust.

Jisung only shrugs, his eyes gleaming with pride. “Minho, you were at our wedding. You even made a toast. You know I wouldn’t change a thing.”

Minho throws his hands up dramatically, shaking his head in dismay. “At the time, she was the sweet, sexy Italian nurse you somehow tricked into marriage. We were all baffled by it! But now…now she’s just an evil, powder-wielding menace!”

Jisung leans back in his chair, draping his arm over your shoulders with a smug grin. “Yeah, but she’s my evil, powder-wielding menace.”

Seungmin, who’s been watching the whole scene unfold with amusement, finally speaks up, his tone incredulous. “No, seriously, Han. How the fuck did you manage to marry her? I need to know.”

Felix, still half-laughing, adds, “Did you slip something in her coffee, man? Because this feels like a miracle.”

You swat Jisung’s arm playfully, grinning. “Trust me, if there’d been anything suspicious in my coffee, I’d have come to my senses and left ages ago.”

The laughter crescendos as officers toss playful insults at Minho, who looks as though he’s about to burst. Finally, just when he seems on the edge of a breakdown, Chan steps in, his voice a mix of amusement and exasperation. “Minho, you’re not arresting her. If anything, she’s doing us all a favour by keeping you in line.”

Minho looks at Chan, his jaw dropping in exaggerated offence. “I don’t even have my captain’s support! What happened to having each other’s backs, huh?”

You lean back in your chair, crossing your arms with a smug grin as Minho mutters, still clearly in shock from the betrayal. Felix, ever the instigator, can’t resist tossing in one last jab. “Hey, Minho, why don’t you go cry to your wife? Oh wait—she’s probably signing those divorce papers as we speak.”

The laughter roars again, and Minho looks as though he’s on the verge of a meltdown. Before he can retaliate, you lean back into Jisung’s embrace, his arms wrapping protectively around you as he chuckles.

“So, after all this,” Jisung murmurs near your ear, “will you still bring us coffee?”

You tilt your head back slightly, smirking up at him. “Only if you start keeping a blanket and pillow in your locker so I can nap next time there’s a lockdown.”

Jisung raises an eyebrow, grinning. “If you’d asked, I’d have told you. I’ve had a blanket and pillow in there for months.”

You stare at him in disbelief. “You’ve had a blanket this whole time? And I’ve been stuck here, caffeine-deprived and nap-deprived? Jiiiiisung!”

He laughs, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. “Hey, on the bright side, we can go home now. I’ve racked up a solid six hours of overtime, and we’ve got the whole day tomorrow for movies, naps, and, of course, proper Italian coffee.”

You sigh contentedly, letting your head rest against his shoulder. “Fine. But I’m holding you to it.”

Jisung chuckles, loosening his hold on you just enough to stand up. “What are we waiting for, then? Let me change out of this uniform, and we’ll get out of here.”

He gives you a playful wink and heads to the locker room. The second he’s out of earshot, you swivel back to Minho, who’s still brooding at his desk, and raise an eyebrow.

“Surprised you’re still here, Minho,” you say, grinning wickedly. “Your wife’s probably already got her lawyer on speed dial, ready to serve those papers.”

Minho narrows his eyes at you and scoops up a handful of powder left on his desk, flinging it at you. It flutters through the air, dusting your hair and shoulders. Unphased, you brush it off with a smirk.

Felix, watching with barely contained laughter, leans back. “Y/N still looks like a goddamn model, and Minho looks like he’s auditioning for a low-budget winter horror movie.”

Minho’s face grows redder as he scowls around the room. “I hope this is anthrax. I hope it’s actually anthrax, and you all get what’s coming to you.”

Chan, not even looking up from his paperwork, sighs. “Minho, you’ve inhaled more of that stuff than anyone. You’re going first if it is.”

You laugh, pointing at Minho with a dramatic flair. “So we’ll get to laugh at you one last time before we go. Sounds perfect.”

Jisung returns from the locker room a few minutes later, looking relaxed and cozy in his black sweatpants and hoodie. He reaches for your hand, giving you a warm smile as he leads you toward the exit.

As you pass Minho’s desk, you can’t resist one last poke. “And, Minho? I’m off-duty tonight, so you’re on your own for any sex-related injuries. Better keep things vanilla—no handcuffs, no nipple clamps.”

Minho’s face flushes bright red, and the entire room pauses to stare at him, expressions ranging from shocked to delighted. Felix’s head snaps up, eyes gleaming with curiosity. “Hold up—did someone say nipple clamps?”

You and Jisung exchange a look, grinning, before turning in unison to point at Minho. The room explodes in laughter once again as Minho slams his hand over his face in mortification.

“Fine! So, I like a bit of spice. Sue me!” he shouts over the uproar.

The laughter only intensifies, but Minho lifts his chin, crossing his arms and attempting to look dignified. “At least I’m not the only one with skeletons. I know all about what you two get up to!” he says, pointing accusingly at you and Jisung.

Felix perks up, eyes wide with excitement. “Oh, I have to hear this.”

Minho leans back, smirking. “They do Grey’s Anatomy roleplay. Full doctor-nurse scenarios.”

Felix’s jaw drops, a slow grin spreading over his face. “Wait—how do you know that?”

Minho grins, clearly enjoying the attention. “I was picking up some old furniture from them. Let myself in, and there they were in the living room. Y/N in a slutty nurse outfit, and Dr. Han was conducting a very unethical exam.”

The bullpen erupts into laughter, louder than ever, and Jisung grins, pulling you close, unbothered by the revelation. You roll your eyes, fighting a smile, knowing Minho’s just getting you back.

Felix, wiping tears from his eyes, stammers, “Oh my god, this is the best thing I’ve ever heard. You guys are absolute legends.”

You shake your head, throwing a grin Minho’s way. “All right, all right. Keep those stories for next time, Minho. We’ll be back tomorrow if you want to keep sharing.”

Minho gives a mock salute, a grin spreading across his face. “I’ll save the best for last. But just you wait, Jisung. I’ve got more where that came from.”

Jisung chuckles, guiding you out of the bullpen, giving one last wave. “See you tomorrow, Minho.”

The door closes behind you, and the cool night air washes over your face as you take a deep breath, finally free from the laughter, the powder, and the relentless teasing. Jisung leads you to his car, and as you sink into the passenger seat, you can’t help but smile, feeling a giddy sense of satisfaction.

“Well,” you say, leaning back with a sigh, “that was a day.”

Jisung lets out a soft chuckle, starting the car. “It was something all right. But hey, now it’s just us. Tomorrow’s ours. Movies, naps, and that Italian coffee you’ve been promising me.”

You open one eye, giving him a sidelong glance. “No Minho?”

He smirks, reaching over to give your hand a squeeze. “Definitely no Minho.”

Jisung pulls into the driveway, the familiar warmth of home glowing like a promise as he shuts off the engine. You step out of the car, your heels clicking softly against the pavement as you stretch, arms raised above your head, sighing in relief to finally be back. Jisung joins you, his fingers intertwining with yours as you both head up the walkway, and for a moment, everything feels blissfully calm and quiet. Worlds away from the precinct’s chaos.

Inside, Jisung locks the door behind you, leaning against it with a weary but contented grin. “Shower?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you reply, laughing. “The last thing I need is that damn itching powder haunting me all night. Not dealing with nine hours of that just to be scratching in my sleep.”

He chuckles, squeezing your hand. “Good call. Let’s head up.”

You both kick off your shoes, and you grab the handrail as you make your way upstairs, your dress swishing softly with each step. In the bathroom, Jisung is already tugging his hoodie over his head, tossing it to the floor without a second thought. His grin turns wicked as he catches your eye. “What, no stripping from you?”

You roll your eyes but smile, unzipping the back of your dress and letting it slide from your shoulders, pooling around your feet. “Happy now?”

“Ecstatic,” he says, his eyes twinkling as he slips off his sweatpants and steps into the shower. He twists the handle, testing the water temperature with his hand. “Come on, it’s perfect.”

You step in beside him, the hot water pouring over you, washing away the remnants of powder, sweat, and every ounce of stress. Jisung closes the glass door behind you, reaching for the shampoo and pouring a generous dollop into his hands.

“Here, let me,” he murmurs, massaging the shampoo into your hair with gentle fingers, his thumbs rubbing small circles along your scalp.

You close your eyes, melting under his touch. “God, how much powder did we inhale today? I feel like it’s in my hair, my lungs…my brain.”

He laughs, rinsing the shampoo from your hair. “Honestly, we’re probably sneezing up talcum powder for weeks. Worth it though—you looked like a total badass hurling that last packet at Minho.”

“Couldn’t resist,” you say, tilting your head back to let the water flow over your hair. “Besides, the whole thing was ridiculous. Nine hours of lockdown for itching powder?”

“You made it memorable, though,” he teases, his fingers running through your hair to make sure it’s completely clear. “Thanks for sticking it out with us.”

You scoff, giving him a playful nudge. “Like I had much choice. I’d have been thrown in lockup if I’d tried to escape.”

He snorts. “No way would I let that happen to my beautiful wife, stranded in her sundress and all. I’d fight anyone who tried to lock you up.”

“Anyone, huh?” you laugh, glancing over your shoulder at him. “Even Chan?”

Jisung lifts his chin defiantly. “Even Chan. Sure, he’d wipe the floor with me in seconds, but I’d make it look heroic. I’d do it for you.”

You laugh, turning to face him, your eyes sparkling. “Babe, you’re right. Chan would flatten you without breaking a sweat. One flex of those shoulders, and you’re done.”

“Hey!” he protests, scooping a handful of water and splashing it at you, eyes narrowed in playful accusation. “I thought you were on my side.”

Grinning, you wipe the water from your face. “I am on your side! You’re the one who said it!”

He huffs, though his grin is unstoppable as he lathers up the body wash, his hands moving over your shoulders and down your arms, lingering at your waist. “Sure, sure. Thanks for the support, traitor.”

“Just being realistic here,” you reply, biting back a laugh.

He smirks, his thumb tracing a soft circle on your hip. “Yeah, yeah. ‘Realistic,’ my ass.”

You nudge him lightly, but he only laughs, taking a step back to grab the body wash for himself. You let the hot water cascade over you, rinsing away the last of the powder, and sigh as the warmth melts the final bits of tension in your muscles. Once he’s finished washing, Jisung twists off the water, reaching for a fluffy towel on the wall.

Stepping out, you grab your favourite long robe with the marabou trim, wrapping it around yourself. Jisung, watching you with a smirk, secures a towel around his waist, eyebrows raised in admiration.

“You know,” he says, tilting his head as he eyes your robe, “they call those ‘femme fatale robes’ for a reason. You look like you’re about to seduce me for a stack of cash and a getaway car.”

You snort, pulling a comb through your damp hair. “Please. That’s the last thing on my mind right now. Food and sleep are the only things I’m interested in.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” he says, grabbing his razor from the sink and applying a dollop of shaving cream to his face. “I’m starving. How about takeout?”

“Sounds perfect,” you say, reaching for your skincare products. “Cooking anything tonight sounds like absolute torture.”

He chuckles, carefully shaving the stubble from his face. “Takeout and…a Harry Potter marathon?”

You grin, catching his eye in the mirror. “Now you’re speaking my language. Ravenclaw supremacy, all the way.”

“Uh, excuse me?” He pauses mid-brush, putting on an expression of exaggerated shock. “We all know Hufflepuff’s the real hero house.”

“Oh, Jisung,” you say, shaking your head as you smooth on some moisturizer. “Ravenclaws would outsmart everyone in seconds.”

“Psh, Hufflepuffs would win on loyalty and determination,” he counters, rinsing his razor. “We’re the ones who bring snacks, make sure everyone’s good, and still get the job done.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” you reply, patting on some eye cream. “Meanwhile, I’ll be doing what Ravenclaws do best: winning.”

He rolls his eyes, grinning as he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close. “Fine, Miss Ravenclaw Supremacy. Let’s go order some food before I pass out right here.”

Together, you head down the hallway to the bedroom, where Jisung grabs his phone and flops onto the bed, scrolling through food delivery options.

“So, what are we feeling? Pizza? Thai? Sushi?” he asks, glancing at you as you turn on the TV and pull up Netflix.

You curl up beside him, resting your head on his shoulder. “Let’s go with Thai. Feels earned after today.”

“Thai it is,” he says, quickly placing the order. He sets his phone down and wraps an arm around you, pulling you in closer. “And tomorrow morning, once we’re itch-free and well-rested, I’m making us the biggest breakfast ever. Pancakes, eggs, the whole deal.”

You sigh, melting into his warmth. “That sounds heavenly. But for now, we’ve got Thai on the way, Harry Potter ready to go, and we’re finally powder-free.”

Jisung grins, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as he clicks play on The Philosopher’s Stone. “Nineteen hours and thirty-nine minutes of pure wizarding magic ahead of us.”

You snuggle deeper into him, grinning. “Perfect. Only way this night could be better is if you’d actually pick Ravenclaw.”

“Keep dreaming,” he chuckles, giving your side a gentle squeeze. “Everyone knows Hufflepuffs bring the real magic. Besides, what do Ravenclaws even bring? Trivia?”

“Intellect,” you say, sitting up slightly to give him a haughty look. “And let’s be honest—Ravenclaws would make amazing Aurors.”

He shakes his head, amused. “And Hufflepuffs would be the best Healers, the ones who’d save everyone after your ‘intellect’ gets you all hexed.”

You throw a pillow at him, laughing as he catches it easily. “You’re impossible.”

“Nah, I’m adorable,” he replies with a smirk, leaning in to give you a quick kiss. “And I’ve got Thai food on the way.”

“Okay, I’ll give you that,” you say, settling back against him as the movie starts.

When the doorbell rings twenty minutes later, Jisung jumps up, grabbing the food and quickly coming back to the bedroom, arms loaded with takeout bags. He spreads them out on the bed, grinning.

“All right, feast time!” he declares, opening the containers. “Green curry for you, Pad Thai for me, and spring rolls for both of us.”

You dig in, savouring the warm, spicy flavours, and let out a contented sigh. “This is exactly what I needed.”

Jisung grins, his mouth full of noodles. “Told you. Nothing like Thai and Harry Potter after a day like that.”

The movie plays on, and you both devour the food, laughing over scenes you’ve seen a thousand times and arguing over the merits of each Hogwarts house. As the night wears on, you find yourself drifting off against him, his arm a comforting weight around your shoulders.

Just as you’re about to fully doze off, Jisung gently shakes you awake. “Hey, don’t fall asleep yet. We’ve got a whole marathon to get through.”

You smile sleepily, snuggling into him. “Can’t help it. You make the perfect pillow.”

He laughs softly, shifting so you’re both lying down, pulling the blankets over you. “All right, fine. We’ll marathon it tomorrow. For now, get some sleep.”

You drift off with his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your back, the sound of the movie playing softly in the background. For once, there’s no powder, no noise, just the quiet warmth of home, Jisung beside you, and a full night of uninterrupted rest stretching out ahead.

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doodleferp · 3 months ago

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The Dante/Callie Brainrot

So in an effort to get rid of my art block and try to get into writing some more, I'm putting together some general thoughts about Callie and Dante. I wrote these with the games in mind, but these can be applied to the reboot game and the Netflix show if we squint.

Absolutely feel free to send me asks about these two as well. I need the fuel. Please. I am begging.

Potential triggers include surgical practices, death, canon-typical violence, sex mention, friends with benefits mention, tattoos

Dante and Callie are two and a half weeks apart, and met when Callie was a few weeks old. See, Callie's mom Fran was Eva's best friend. Her bestest best friend in the whole wide fuckin' world. The kind of friends that plan out their lives cradle to grave. and have somehow stuck to it after all these years. Callie spent about a third of her childhood hanging out with the Spardas, becoming bestest best friends with the twins until the fire. Callie reconnected with Dante in DMC 3 and just like that, they were together for the next thirty-something years.

Just like their mothers, Dante and Callie were pretty much inseparable as kids. Pretty much the second that one was in the other's line of sight, the other would be sprinting up to hug them. Since Vergil was an indoor boy, Dante relished the opportunity to play with someone his own age. Meanwhile, Callie was an only child who was lonely at home, so she was equally ecstatic to be around Dante for as long as she could. But childhood stories are for another day.

After DMC 3, Callie and Dante were FWBs for a few years to cope with the grief of losing Vergil. Obviously, they end up dating, but instead of a big dramatic confrontation, they just…slowly forget they aren’t dating and one day they’re a couple. And they both seem to think they were dating from the very beginning and are (purposefully?) confused when people bring up they were just fuck buddies for a while.

Before they moved in together. Dante would like, super duper clean his room before Callie came over. I don’t know if it’s because he wanted to impress her or if he just wanted a clean space to get down, but he goes into a bedroom cleaning frenzy when he knows Callie’s coming to the shop. They didn’t always go to the bedroom when they screwed around so your guess is as good as mine.

They don't really have like...date-dates very often. I need to figure out how exactly their schedules are gonna line up, but dates are usually stuff like movie marathons or drive-ins or dinner at the diner that Dante loves. Every so often they'll head out of town for a job that Dante has to do and spend some time together there, but the good time usually gets overshadowed by whatever demon he has to fight. They don't really care and the demon ends up being an afterthought anyway. They're just glad to get to spend time together.

Dante will "babe, I got it" her all the time. It's like, she'll try to do something herself and he'll go "Nah, babe, I got it." And just. Never does it. Out of procrastination or pure virtue of forgetting about it. It's infuriating and it keeps happening. Callie's learned to ignore him whenever he says he has something and just do it herself.

Callie's a trauma surgeon, and works in the ER at the local hospital. She credits the development of her surgical skills to Dante being her "personal cadaver" -- a feat that he proudly flaunts to this day. Due in no small part to his indestructibility, Dante would let Callie practice small surgical things on him -- stitches, sutures, staples, intubation, IVs -- and even some more complex procedures when he was feeling ballsy. I have this lovely mental image of them lounging on the couch or in bed on a dark summer night, the light from the old TV casting an eerie glow on them, Dante eating pizza or nursing a beer with one hand while Callie practices a running whip stitch on his other hand.

Fun fact! Due to the nature of their work, Callie's had to admit Dante and Lady to the ER every so often. Being some of the most badass demon hunters ever doesn't automatically guarantee you'll never get injured, and it also doesn't mean people won't call 911 in the aftermath of an attack. Every so often, Callie will stroll onto the ER floor, pull back a curtain, and see Dante's smiling face on the bed, sitting in an ocean of blood with a bone or two sticking out of his body and a couple semi-panicking staff. Lady is ironically the more difficult patient because she usually just wants to get bandaged up and get out of there. Dante will do anything the doctors tell him to do and is very cooperative with the staff, all while throwing cheesy lines Callie's way.

Speaking of. Even though Callie is making reasonable bank and can provide for the shop, Dante refuses to let her help him with the bills. It doesn't even matter that Callie has lived there long enough for them to be legally considered married. He refuses to let her contribute financially to the bills in any way. “I’m your boyfriend, I’m the one who’s supposed to take care of you!” So Callie does the mature thing and pays his tabs behind his back.

They have designated days where they go thrifting and antiquing. It’s how they find stuff for the shop, it’s how they find Dante’s awesome outfits, and it’s just so much fun to look at all the cool shit people have donated or put up for sale.

They have a cat! A little bit after Devil May Cry, a depressed and lonely Dante spotted a kitten with a broken leg and decided to take him home. That cat is named Sampson, and he is the most grumpy little shit on the face of the earth. Dante is his chosen two-leg and Callie is just the spare. He warms up to her after she starts being home more, but she was a constant recipient of hisses and bites whenever she approached Dante while Sampson was nearby. Sampson dies around DMC 5 (he dies from natural causes at the old age of two fifteen) and Dante cried like a baby.

Bedtime for them is. Weird. It’s a fluctuating thing that changes as Callie adjusts to her work flow at the hospital. Eventually, she settles on the early and day shifts at the emergency room, so some days she’s waking Dante and the cat up at the crack of dawn. And don’t even get me started on the nights she needs to be paged in.

Anyway, Callie will fall asleep and spread all the way out like a starfish. Dante, meanwhile, will latch onto her no matter what and render her unable to move from that starfish position. Every time she gets in bed while he's asleep, he immediately gravitates towards her and starts to cuddle. Sampson sleeps at the foot of the bed, or he steals Callie's pillow and forces her to switch with the already-comfy or already-asleep Dante. There is no in-between.

My dear friend Penelope convinced me to let them get married, but I haven't put down an exact timeline for it. As far as the games go, I'd place it somewhere around or between DMC 4 and DMC 5. He really feels like the hopeless romantic guy who WOULD want a big wedding party, but kinda pushes that dream aside because he knows he wouldn't be able to afford it. Instead of rings, they get marriage tattoos -- Dante tattoos Callie's name on the back of his left hand, and Callie does the same but with Dante's name. And that tat gives him the butterflies more than any ring ever could.

taglist: @brightlycoloredteacups, @missmermaidsoaps, @merumely. @wastelandrunaways-blog, @randthings

devil may cry © capcom

fanfic © doodleferp 2025

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and-i-will-kiss · 5 months ago

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I have no shame, as I finally put my hose back midday in front of my drinking buddies, ex-enemies, now friends all the same. Headache intact, I remember my quest. The wedding, alright! Don't forget that, this is to meet Von Bergrow and nothing else!

So I retrace my steps, still a bit wobbly and giddy from last night, back to the forge in Tachov.

The blacksmith, my boss, isn't to pleased with my sight. But at least he doesn't kick me out like anyone else in this area. He says his two last foremen, utterly lazy bastards according to his standards, ran off with a cart filled with supplies for Semine, supplies for the wedding, things I need to keep an eye on, they might become handy. So I say yes, pet Mutt's spotted saddle and we trot towards Semine. I announce myself at the gate, and strangely enough they let me in. The guard points me in the direction of the courtyard and that I should ask for the Captain.

Gnarly, he says. Sure a fitting name - the man's face is a collection of bushy eyebrows, scars and many, many lines and marks of disgust all over. But he doesn't mean it, he's really welcoming and takes me to his Lord. Lord Semine seems high-strung, he clearly bit more than he can chew with this wedding business, so I step in and offer a hand. It was accepted on a whim. So we discuss what to do with the missing supplies cart and its probable location, and all points out to Apollonia, an area I'm absolutely not familiar with, but I was dispatched immediately by Semine.

The Captain says he'll get the horses ready and gives me a full, good, big stare. He clearly can see, from my dusty boots and chausses, that I, god forbid, I walked all the way here. So the man sends me straight to the horse trader on the back of the fortress.

I make my way there, and into the barn. Awash with light, I can barely see beyond, but I'm sure I recognize a familiar silhouette outside. I step outside.

What a sight for sore eyes! And feet!

Pebbles, my horse, my girl, oh, how I missed you, is there, right in front of me! But how, how did you ended up here? I don't care, I don't mind... But I'm so happy to see you this close to me, I thought I had lost you forever! I could just drop to my knees right now and weep of happiness for a little bit.

"Why are you staring at that beast? Sure it has to be the grossest horse I have ever seen!"

Shut up, how dare you. She's precious like silver and you still have the gall to insult her. I'm gonna get your tongue later, you shit.

I threaten the man so much that he has no choice. Brindle and saddle in hand, I dress my companion. This feels a bit like home, my heart is full. Fearing that my past wounds have been detrimental to my skills, I decide to have a brisk jog with Pebbles up and down the road outside.

We canter south to the small village nearby the fortress.

"That's the ugliest horse I have ever seen! Ugly as sin!"

Oh, shut the fuck up, you pedestrian.

"I wouldn't get that horse even if someone gave it to me!"

Fucking whoreson, I wouldn't shag your mum either.

"Now that's a long face!"

I... I have had enough. I scratch Pebbles withers as we canter out of this forsaken town. I can feel my face burning red, my stomach twists in knots. I could burn that whole shithole down onto the ground... But I need to calm myself down, I can't ruin this moment. My horse is finally back, I feel whole again.

A small campsite is not far from my sight, and I get there, light a fire and fill my mouth with something sweet. It's better than bitter words unsaid.

(I get MAD every time someone insults Pebbles, my girl... er, boy... um, girl forever. Bernard's fault I guess - but I'm convinced I looked Pebbles' model in KCD1 and the fruit bowl sure had a banana and two coconuts on it lmao. I'm glad they recanted her background, as I always called her "my girl", it kinda just rolls off the tongue. I was pleasantly surprised by the perk Good Old Pebbles last night.)

#kingdom come deliverance #kingdom come deliverance 2 #kcd #kcd 2 #book of hare hours #game log

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thegodthief · 7 months ago

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Jack's eyes had stopped offering tears to express his sorrow with some time ago. He hadn't yet noticed that it was such time that he should have become hungry by now. He was too busy being absolutely fucking pissed at the circumstances and decisions that led to his life falling apart.

When he watched the medics load the poor mutilated wreck of a corpse into the ambulance, he shook his head and gave a silent prayer for the person he was sure had perished in the crash. The lucky stiff won't have to submit statements to the police or insurance agents.

Jack watched the tow truck operators do their work quickly despite the cold. There was only one mangled wreck to tow away. The vehicle that created this credit-reducing event had long left the area. If it weren't for the gas station, no one would have known it happened.

He looked across the street. The clerk watched out the window over the scene, but made no attempt to do anything more. Poor kid probably can't leave the counter. Jack hoped he didn't get written up for making the emergency call in the first place.

Jack's life had fallen apart long before he came to this intersection of force and object. He just hadn't realized how bad things had gotten until he was forced to wait for… he wasn't sure… he was waiting for something… for someone… for everything to stop or for something to start.

His boyfriend had left him citing irreconcilable differences. It wasn't a dramatic end to a passionate relationship. It was… middling, actually. Almost embarrassing. One day, there wasn't any passion between them. One day, they took things for granted. One day, he was alone, and nothing changed.

Jack didn't notice his absence for a while, until he needed to make some edits using a program that was licensed in his now ex-boyfriend's name. That's when he noticed that he missed his assets more than he missed his ass. Ah, well, he reasoned, just means he has to spend more money now.

Or, he would have, if his job hadn't just dropped from under him. The industry wasn't heavily regulated, but what few rules his bosses had to abide by were important enough. He knew that some of the things he did wasn't the right things, but he was just following orders, so why fire him?

His coworker quit a few weeks ago and tried to tell Jack that he would be personally liable for personal actions regardless who gave the order, and Jack blew her off then. He wished he could have one more minute with her to apologize and tell her that she was right. Just one more minute, if only.

If only he could remember why he was there on the side of the road. It had been hours since the tow truck left with the wreck and the local paper reporters had went back to bed. There was only the lights from the gas station and the clerk behind the window that kept staring at him.

Poor kid was bound by corporate policy, thought Jack. He probably can't even leave to take a shit without having someone else at the window because god forbid someone doesn't want an overpriced bag of expired chips. Or worse, the winning lottery ticket. He tried to laugh. The cold air rejected him.

Feeling the weight of the errors that led to him deciding to make an admittedly worse error made him feel frustrated to the point of screaming. But when he finally expressed himself, nothing moved. No animal. No insect. No air. No attention. As if he wasn't there at all.

"You're not dead. Not yet. Least that's what I was told." Jack flinched in fright as the gas station clerk was suddenly beside him. Jack turned around and saw a different person sitting in the station window. He looked back at the kid. He tried to speak, but didn't even hear himself.

The kid continued. "My buddy in the hospital told me that it's a wonder you lived long enough to get to the ER. If you live the night, you might have a chance. But to live the night, you can't give up on yourself. The docs have done everything they can, but it's now down to what you choose."

"Look. I ain't one-a-them psychic peoples. But I remember what my mamaw would do when someone ain't made up their mind. So I'll do that for you." The kid took a paper coin from some forgotten board game, stuck it on a nail, and set it on fire. He let it burn away completely.

Jack watched the smoke in complete fascination. Just as the paper coin burnt up, he reached for it, and to his surprise, was able to pinch a coin out of the air where the smoke had been. The coin felt like paper-covered metal, while also not feeling like anything at all.

He meant to ask the kid a question, but turned just in time to see him flip a coin into the scarred earth where the car wreck was pulled from. "If you want to go on, get your second coin from here. But if you want to live, or try to live, your second coin will be in your hand."

"Give me an hour before you make up your mind, eh? Hospitals don't like strange people poking around, so it's going to take my buddy's help to get things in place." Before Jack could muster the idea of what to ask the kid, the kid turned and walked away down the road.

Jack was able to follow him for a few steps, but once he reached the edge of the accident area, he could move no further. He started to realize what had happened, what car had been taken away in pieces, whose body had been rolled into evac bag. He gripped the unnatural coin and started to scream.

It was only one drink, at first. But then it was many drinks. He had felt like he had nothing left to lose since his life was falling apart, so why not go out like a fucking champ, like a winner. He had spent so much at the bar, he had nothing left for the whore and stormed off when he laughed.

No second vehicle had struck him. He lost control of the car at the top of the hill and was unable to correct for the sharp turn just after the crest. Like all the other decisions that caught up to him, this was his own unmaking. This time, literally.

He remembered. He remembered it all. And in doing so, he understood what the kid was trying to do. If you didn't have a funeral to send you on your way, you needed two coins to pay the ferry. The coin the kid burnt up was the first. Jack still had to choose a second.

He could pluck the second coin from the site of the wreck, and by doing so, choose to complete his death and depart from this world. He wasn't looking forward to having the rest of his life's decisions examined and judged. He clenched his fists, and felt a second coin as if from a distance.

He realized what the kid had done. Jack could be ferried to death, or ferried back to life. If he chose the coin that had been placed in his still living hand, then he was choosing to fight for his life. But, what kind of life would he live?

He saw what had been loaded into the ambulance. He heard the kid say that the doctors had done all that they could. So, why did he give Jack this false choice? There was only one outcome, right?

Right?

Why wasn't there anyone to tell him what to do? He needed someone to tell him what to do. Someone to tell him what is the right way to live. Because he realized that he hadn't been telling himself what was the right way for him to live his own life and now…

And now…

Jack didn't notice when the sun's light graced over the fog clinging to the wreckage site. He didn't notice when the boundaries of limbo began to fade. He didn't notice when his image seemed to expand like steam rising into an empty room.

Jack only perceived the feel of a coin in his hand, and decided that he would feel another.

At the height of the day, the kid returned to the gas station for his next shift. He stopped beside the wreckage and looked at where he had thrown the coin so late last night. His phone buzzed, but he ignored the text message. Instead, he muttered a quiet prayer and went on his way.

The End.

Flash fiction inspired by the Tower and the 2 of Pentacles #tarot cards.

#fiction #tarot

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thegoldheartlocketandkey-blog · 1 year ago

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911 Spoilers Season 4: You’ve been warned. 😅 Buddie Rewatch

Episode 13: Suspicion

Brideliza Lie Detector: Eddie is using the fire extinguisher to put out the hotel fire. Buck asks the bride if she’s getting ready for a wedding, confused by the lie detector in the room.

Eddie looks around for cameras as he asks if they are in a reality show.

As the bridesmaids explain that the bride is trying to find the person who bashed her online is, Buck is looking around the room, makes eye contact with Eddie.

As the Bride gets up complaining about not going to the ER, Eddie backs away fairly quickly. Buck is in the background just watching.

Buck decides to chime in about watching a makeup tutorial online, where the person painted her face like a skull. Eddie looks over at Buck very confused as he’s telling this story.

Eddie chiming in about how the bride’s face will be covered by a veil. Eddie and Buck are now standing near each other as the bride processes her hair and makeup situation.

Eddie and Buck are standing right near each other when everyone starts confessing to be the online snitch.

Eddie’s eyes go wide as he looks over and observes everyone’s reaction. (This boy really loves chisme)

As it gets more dramatic with Mom confessing, Buck is laughing and looking over at Eddie, Eddie looking over at him. They really love the drama.

As the bride yells for everyone to get out, Eddie does a scared little jump that Buck notices.

When bride notices her dress is burned up and starts crying, Buck says sorry about the dress while running out. Eddie right behind him says good luck with the wedding.

Eddie is organizing throw pillows on the couch, moving them back and forth and fluffing them. He asks Ana and Chris if it looks better.

They are standing off to the side, Ana resting her hand on Chris’s back as she hesitantly comments that it looks the same.

Ana looks down at Chris, both are smiling, as Eddie states he just wants everything to be perfect. There is a knock on the door, Christopher walks over to open it.

Carla is on the other side and gets a huge welcoming from Chris. Eddie and Ana are in the back ground watching as they hug.

Eddie walking over, honestly can describe it as a little prance over, to join in on the hug. The camera pans over to Ana who looks happy, but is awkwardly looking over at them.

At the dinner table everyone is laughing and having a good time listening to Chris tell a story. When Eddie attempts to get up with his empty plate, Ana stops him offering to clean up instead.

Carla offers to help clean up and is yelled at by Chris, that she’s not allowed to go into the kitchen. Ana adds that they have business to take care of and will be right back. Ana and Chris go into the kitchen.

Eddie tells Carla how much she’s been missed. They catch up a bit. Eddie mentions how much Chris loves having Ana around. Carla asks Eddie how he feels about Ana. Eddie laughs and says it is nice.

He describes being with her as easy. Carla specifies that Ana is lovely and she’s glad he is moving on, “but just be sure that you’re following your heart, not Christopher’s, okay?” Eddie looks at Carla, processing what she said and is confused.

Carla has not seen this man in about a years’ time. She experienced her own traumas during this pandemic and one of the first things she does is clock Eddie on being in a relationship for the convenience. You don’t just tell someone you know to remember to follow their heart, if you think they are following their heart. You give that advise to someone that you know is holding back or not being 100% truthful. Carla spent maybe an hour or two with them and clocked Eddie not being all in on the relationship. She knew before he even knew.

Ana and Chris interrupt the conversation by yelling surprise. They come out with two cakes filled with candles, wishing Carla a Happy Birthday. Stating they are celebrating for they two birthdays they missed.

Eddie starts to light all the candles and Carla makes a joke about how lucky they are to have a firefighter in the house.

Chris is laughing hysterically at the joke and Ana is smiling at Chris. She pulls him into a hug and they are happy together.

Eddie is looking over at them and he looks like he’s processing new information. Eddie becomes a bit uncomfortable.

Mom falls thru balcony: Buck and Bobby are on top of the Engine, Buck getting ready to climb up the ladder. Eddie is standing right behind him.

Buck climbs up the ladder to the balcony right below the victims. The neighbor comes out, with headphones on getting to cook steaks.

Buck waves over at him, getting his attention and asking for permission to use his balcony. Buck and Bobby get off on the balcony below the victim.

Eddie climbs the ladder and lands on the balcony the victim is holding onto.

He hops on to the balcony and makes small talk (it comes across a little flirty, but he is just being nice) with the victim as he secures her in.

Bobby and Buck are securing a board underneath her, just incase she falls.

Eddie reassures the victim that she’s not going to fall, but that he needs to go let the paramedics in, and he’ll be right back.

As he enters the home, he calls the son, Charlie, a hero for doing the right thing and calling 911.

As Chim and Hen are on the balcony, Buck and Bobby make it upstairs. Buck and Eddie are standing near each other as Hen gets vitals.

Buck and Eddie are instructed to wear safety lines, before they step on to the balcony, just in case. They start prying away at the wood, creating a bigger hole, and freeing the mom.

Eddie has her wrap her arms around his neck as he lifts her up with Buck assisting and into the inside of her apartment.

Eddie places her onto the gurney. Mom starts freaking out about going to the hospital, because there is no one that can watch her son.

She informs Bobby that Charlie can't go to the hospital because of an auto immune disease. Eddie is looking over at Charlie intently. Buck is in the background observing.

Eddie without a single hesitation offers to stay behind and watch Charlie, mentioning that he has a kid around his age. He doesn’t take no as an answer.

Bobby pats him on the arm as the rest of the 118 walks out the apartment. Eddie asks Charlie if he wants to help out with cleaning up the ropes.

Eddie and Charlie are on face time with Carla and Chris. Charlie telling Chris he’s lucky that his dad knows how to cook.

Chris is surprised by the compliment and asks Charlie if he’s sure his dad didn’t buy take out and Carla joining in on the joke.

I love how Chris is always making fun of his dad’s cooking.

Charlie spills his drink, and Eddie gets up and starts looking for napkins. While grabbing the napkins, he notices a bunch of eye drops.

Eddie cleans up the mess as Charlie explains that he doesn’t go to school because he’s sick and has to see a lot of doctors. Chris asking what kind of doctors. Charlie responds with how he doesn’t know, all kinds of doctors.

Eddie hearing multiple doctors, comments about how expensive that must be and asks about the mom’s job. Charlie reveals that she takes care of him full time and that they get funding from go fund me pages.

Mom comes back at that exact moment and gets hyper concerned about that fact that Eddie made Charlie lunch.

Eddie states that he knew she would be tired from being at the hospital and didn’t want her to worry about feeding him. Charlie reassures her that he’s feeling fine.

Eddie is looking at mom, I want to describe it as admiration, for all the work she puts into caring for her son.

Charlie introduces Christopher to his mom. Chris says hello and good bye. Eddie ends the facetime.

Charlie asks about the possibly hanging out with Chris in the future. Mom gives and uncertain answer. Eddie looks over at Charlie with a look of sympathy.

Eddie, Carla, and Chris are together picking up toys and books with the plan to give the items to Charlie.

Chris making it a point to mention he’s will to give Charlie a few video games that he hasn’t played in a while. Eddie turning down the idea because he didn’t remember seeing a tv at the apartment.

Ana walks in, comments about how generous Chris is being. She asks to speak with Eddie alone.

As Eddie gets up and is about to walk out the door he pauses and tells Carla to now let Chris give away everything in the house.

Ana and Eddie walk into the kitchen, Ana starts explaining how she thought about Charlie and the mom’s story and looked up the Fund me page with the hope to donate to and spread the link around.

She tells Eddie that she has a weird feeling about Mom.

Eddie’s confused stating that is a quick conclusion, given that they’ve never met. Ana explains that she found a ton of weird stuff online about her and that she thinks Eddie was lied to.

The scene cuts to Carla, Eddie, and Ana sitting together in the kitchen going over multiple fundme pages from with Shelia (Mom) and Charlie from around the USA with different last names.

Eddie states that Charlie did mention moving around a lot and that would explain the different cities and different fund me pages, but not the different last names.

As they talk more about Charlie, Eddie mentions how Charlie’s sickness never had a diagnosis, they just used vague terminology like autoimmune.

They all start piecing together that all the information they know about this woman and Charlie’s treatment is suspicious.

Ana points out the comments on most of the fund me pages that are shut down, share the same sentiment of mom is lying, a scammer, and that she’s making her kid sick.

Eddie disgusted at that possibility.

Buck and Chim walk into the fire station, they make note that B shift must still be out on a call. Eddie walks out of the locker room dressed up for work and rubbing his eyes. Buck pointing out that Eddie was their early.

Eddie responds with he could not sleep and goes on to immediately tell Buck and Chim about how he thinks the mom they saved the other days is making her son sick.

Eddie reveals to having tracked down people that knew them in the past. All evidence he finds points to Sheila purposefully making Charlie sick.

Eddie straight up accuses her of poisoning her son.Buck asks what he thinks she may be poisoning him with, Eddie unsure, until he remembers the eye drops he saw in the kitchen.

Eddie mentions having already called social services. Buck asks why she would do something like that.

Eddie brings up the multiple fund me pages and she’s most likely doing this for profit.

Eddie gets a phone call from Charlie. He asks Charlie if he’s okay and Charlie reveals that he did a bad thing and poisoned his mother.

Buck is driving the captain vehicle as Eddie is riding passenger. They show up on scene with the 133 to respond to the call.

They hop out of the vehicle, Captain Mehta runs toward Buck, who is in civilian clothing, if he was promoted to captain and he was not aware.

Buck responding with it was the only vehicle available at that time.

Eddie and Buck are the first ones to run into the apartment. Eddie running towards Charlie and making sure he’s okay before looking over at mom.

Eddie walks Charlie away and gets his side of the story as the 133 starts rescue measure. Buck stays with them and explains that Eddie thinks it maybe tetrahydrozoline poisoning.

Charlie explains that he always saw his mom put drops in her food, she thought he didn’t see, but he did.

Charlie only wanted to know what would happen if she gave them to her. Charlie apologizes for hurting his mother. Eddie stops him, tells him that he knows he didn’t mean to hurt him.

Buck points out that Charlie is also going to need treatment, he’s experienced the same kind of poisoning, just in smaller doses for a long time.

Eddie is walking out with Charlie as he’s being loaded into the ambulance.

Eddie explains that his mom will be going to a different hospital, because she’s sicker. Buck approaches Eddie. They look at each other as mom’s ambulance starts to drive off.

Eddie starts to blame himself. How he should have noticed the signs sooner and helped earlier. Buck immediately chiming in about how lucky Charlie was for meeting him.

Captain Mehta asks Eddie if he wants to ride with the kid to the hospital. Eddie responds with a yeah, but is cut off by the sound of a gunshot.

In a split second we see a bullet fly thru Eddie’s shoulder, Buck’s faces sprayed with Eddies blood.

Buck is shocked, he’s looking over at Eddie with wide eyes, Eddie is struggling to stay standing up right. The scene slows down slightly, Eddie and Buck are staring at each other, not reacting, barley processing what happened.

Eddie collapses on to the ground landing on his side. Buck is still standing, just looking and Eddie collapse, unable to process what just happened. People around them are running.

Eddie is looking up at Buck. Buck is looking down at Eddie. We see the unknown shooter, load another bullet.

Captain Mehta runs towards Buck, tackling Buck to the ground as another bullet is shot, this time hitting the truck.

Eddie is on his side, losing a lot of blood, his head is resting in a pool of his own blood. Eddie starts to slowly reach out in front of him, towards Buck.

Buck is underneath Captain Mehta, he’s directly at looking over at Eddie. Eddie is trying to lift up his head, he’s looking directly at Buck, they aren’t breaking eye contact.

Eddie reaches out again; his eyes start to roll back as he loses consciousness. Buck is laying on the ground, face to the floor, unable to look away from Eddie.

I wish I could watch this scene again for the very first time. I remember how my stomach dropped the first time watching. I was convinced I just saw a main character death. I had so many emotions running thru my head. I could barely accept that I just witnessed Eddie get shot. The way the episode started off lighthearted and ended in devastation.

#buddie #911 abc #eddie diaz #evan buck buckely #buck x eddie #911 spoilers #911 show #christopher diaz #911 fandom #buddie 911 #911 #911 rewatch

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senor-plume · 6 months ago

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16 stitches

ivory skin splits open

on diseased gymnasium floor the blood drips

tears drop and a telephone is picked up

my kid got it good on the chin

i got nailed dad busted in the chops

I stick a red and blue screaming middle finger on the roof of my car and speed through traffic

exhausted elderly sit in high tech wheelchairs outside of the ER as my own four wheels come to a halt

a sack of potatoes under my arms asks about needles as we enter

I don’t know, maybe can’t lie to you man I don’t know, maybe

we wait with the sterile dust

we wait with dirty soaps blaring from the TV

we wait with coke machines fish tanks

we wait with the book nosed nervous

I spoon him fruit cocktail from his apple stained lunch box

we get our number jackpot at Vegas called

we rise and go as told by cotton crisp nurse behind medical machines

information given compassion is not as ice forms from her lips

no teddy bears no heck or howdy no poor cutie

just:

what happened? speak up! is he always this quiet? are you in pain? are you going to throw up? I’ve never seen a paler kid in my life.

on on on she spits

covered with snow we are fingered

go there

we go

we wait again

his fingers touching my neck as we walked that hall was the saddest thing I have ever felt

Frankenstein stitches will sew him up

I tell him yes yes needles dude

his eyes water color a sad portrait and defying gravity his pupils go up and into mine

its ok dad. can we go to mcdonald's after this i’m hungry

yeah buddy a chicken nugget for each stitch you get

he cries into my twig arms

I put wipers on my glasses and head out

he got sixteen dead chicken parts in his belly an hour or so later

he fell… slipped into sleep with his chin bandaged with ketchup rings around his lips like the ice circling Saturn

but he's a warm blanket now

a living breathing no place like home

his belly rising up and down slow like smoke in a draft less room is the sweetest thing I have even felt

the Antarctic melts

it’s been a long day

I turn the lights off and worm my way next to him

sleep twig in fire

my arm across his stomach

I can hear the rain bullet the roof as I also drift off

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xarrixii · 1 year ago

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Chapter_18 : "Life + Lemons" ━━━━━━━━━━━━━

CW: previous chapter | beginning | masterlist

━━━━━━━━━━━━ ▼

“The entire point is that we receive short info snippets from an inside recruiter. You’re absolutely certain we should ask Blake?” Charlie, Afyer’s supervisor (although best known as Charles Acoprit), was smoking out in the lot, leaning against a black van. “Blake’s not much of a talker, you know that.”

“I know.” A smile crept onto Afyer’s face, poking his straw into the lemonade a few times.

“It’s been almost a month. I’m just making sure you understand what a waste of time and assets this could be if your hunch is wrong. Storm’s never recruited based on… what was it, mood? before.”

“Don’t be silly, Charlie, mood is what we feel when we read the notes. Tone is what our inside guy feels when they write the notes.”

“Difference is?”

“Nevermind. Is that Blake there?” Afyer gestures at the monitor Storm had in the middle of the lot’s ceiling.

“No shit, Sherlock. Wouldn’t be let into the garage otherwise.”

“Fuck you, Watson.” Afyer and Charlie jumped, simultaneously turning to face the person walking up from the elevator. They donned a smirk a few seconds later at Charlie’s aghast expression. “Damn, I have always wanted to say that.”

“Oh—Ah⸺”

Afyer beams. “Raijin? It’s a great honor to meet you in person. I’ve heard of your field work, you do amazing things out there. I always knew there were enough people dedicated to our cause to make a difference.”

Raijin looked taken aback, stuttering, “Er, right. Abolishing the system. That’s a new level of enthusiasm. Say, Charles, that is Blake driving up, yeah?”

“Yeah. Genius over here thought we may have found a gold mine. They’re not even passing their Cinder initiation, but Afyer’s insisting.” Charlie licks his lips a few times, stamping out their cigarette into the pavement.

“I needed an excuse to talk to him again anyway. Count me in.”

Afyer was the first to hold out a hand when Blake parked and exited his vehicle. “Hello! I’m Afyer Octave, Storm’s upper recruitment branch, former field operative.”

“The firecracker stage light incident?” Blake queried, impartial.

“You know!”

Blake redirects his attention. “Raijin, what the hell do these two want?”

Raijin shrugs. “I’d personally like to figure that out myself. Charles, if you could?”

“Uh, I think, this really was Afyer’s idea. I think, I think he should start off the explanation,” Charlie choked out.

Nothing could quite explain the amount of joy this prospect brought Afyer. “Of course! Now, you know future applicant 154? Pyrokinetic, still hasn’t passed an exam yet, ‘mostly not noteworthy’?”

“You called Blake up here over the words mostly not noteworthy?” Raijin cut Afyer off. “Are you trying to fuck around with our time?”

“Give credit where credit is due, I suppose. That recruiting bastard… Hasn’t asked for any of my input recently since I got stuck being the guy’s fucking exam buddy. Damn was upper recruitment a good choice for you.” Blake pinched his nose as Afyer lit up. “I’ll give the guy something, if Nacht can figure out the whole artificial kinesis tech, guy would demolish our electrokinetics if we made him one.”

“Oh, right. A PY that fights like an EK. Promising. You’re shitting me, right Blake?” Raijin steps forward and sets Afyer’s extended arm down.

“I think we’re forgetting the part where he is staying conscious long enough to keep retaking that exam.”

“Not saying a lot.”

“Against me, Raijin.”

“Okay, fair point. But he still isn’t, y’know, worthy of Amaterasu’s attention, clearly must mean something.”

Blake mutters to himself. “I swear, Cinder knows I’m not one of theirs. It’s like they’re taunting me with this guy. Urban—potential applicant 154—hasn’t even shown off his fire. And he punched me in the face yesterday. I woke up a few hours later.”

“Brave, but stupid,” Afyer admits. “That must mean his kinetic is off the charts. Cinder has to be hiding one of their best operatives to date. Mmm, you’ve hit the jackpot this time, Afyer.”

Charlie blinks at him a few times.

Blake choose to ignore it, “I mean, he’s buddy-buddy with Amaterasu’s son for fuck’s sake.”

Afyer nodded along, taking sips from his lemonade all the while.

“Amaterasu has a child?” Raijin’s crossed arms fall apart.

“This is exactly why that fucking recruiter needs to talk to me more often than once every three months.” Blake takes a deep breath. “Afyer’s right. I think we need to go after a PY for once.”

“I’m a pyrokinetic, you know.” Afyer frowns.

“I meant it as in, like, we need to actively seek them out instead of them coming to us. You guys are monsters when you know what you’re doing.”

“Whatever. Charles, go let someone know about it later so we can get sailing on it.” Raijin begins walking back toward the elevator. “Blake, you up for a real sparring match?”

“Oh fuck you have no idea.” Blake runs after Raijin.

Charlie panics and wanders off with a new cigarette from his pack.

Afyer finishes off his glass of lemonade with determined glee.

next chapter

━━━━━━━━━━━━ ▲ missing a content warning? let me know

= lemonade...? oh, nope, it's not the time for that yet

i wonder what these rascals are plotting

#flash/burn #fiction #original story #original characters #magic #dystopian #fantasy #angst #no i have never played portal #catching up to what i've actually all written is pretty hard

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choicescounselingsc · 2 years ago

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First Responders and Mental Health: Suicide Prevention Month

By a former first responder

I know, it’s almost the end of September. But, September is Suicide Prevention Month. It is a touchy subject. Especially for first responders. I know we have all dealt with the general public and either suicide attempts or they’ve been successful. I can’t count how many calls I’ve dealt with that were either attempts or successful. They are so sad and its depressing. You often wonder if they had just had someone to talk to or if someone would have just noticed that something was “off” with them. I have had at least 2 where it was a complete surprise. One such incident, this older gent. He was so pleasant. He had called us to come get him out of the floor because he had fallen. We tried to get him to go to the ER. He finally said he’d go. So we transported. He had made statements like, his wife was out of town. He didn’t want to leave his home. We kept reassuring him that he was going to just go get checked out. He was okay with that. Fast forward to the end of my double shift. We got a call out at his home. I didn’t see the note that was attached to his door we went in. I went down the hall, calling his name. There was a single light on in his house. I followed it and it lead to his bedroom. He was laying in the bed. Wet lung sounds. I went to him and tried to get him to talk to me. I pulled back the covers and discovered a weapon. Come to find out, he had contacted 9-1-1 to get us to come out. He told dispatch to send us out because he had fallen again. He said we had been so nice. Once he hung up the phone, he shot himself. We had gotten to him to soon as he was still breathing when we arrived. The note that was posted to the door was to his housekeeper. He wanted her to clean the house before his wife got home. He had prepped. He made “as little mess” as possible. He used pillows to keep the “mess” at bay. He also carefully chose a “less messy spot” to shoot himself. He had a plan. I beat myself up over it. If only I had listened more closely. I remember that call so vividly. Truthfully, there was nothing I could have done. He had made his mind up. He only told us that he didn’t want to leave his house. I know that many of you have had situations like this. This was before the Critical Stress Debriefing days. I was stressed beyond belief with that call and a few other suicides. What a lot of the “higher ups” fail to realize that those calls can be just as tough, if not worse, than other calls like the traumas out there. That’s why we must look after each other. Speaking of each other, how many of us have lost a co-worker to suicide? Here is a statistic for you from cssr.Columbia.edu. It is the Columbia Light House Project. In more than 1,000 firefighters, they found that nearly 50% had suicidal thoughts at some point in their career! About 16% reported one or more (!!) attempts. What?!? Survey of EMS 37% had contemplated and 6.6% have attempted it! Wow! That is way to many! In 2020, per USA Today, 116 police officers committed suicide were as there were 113 LODD. Though the number of police, fire and EMSnumbers could be higher due to the STIGMA! In the same article it said that EMS/Fire had 127 suicides in 2020 and in 2017 there were 126. (usatoday.com/higher suicide rate police firefighters mental health) Yall that is way to many!! 1 is too many. We need to help each other and break this stupid stigma. Get help. It is okay to not be okay. There are so many programs out there. Let me tell you, you are stronger than you think. There are people out there that know exactly how you feel. You are not alone. It may feel like it. That one buddy that is ‘to busy’ to stop and talk, find another one. There are numbers to call. There are plenty of people out there that want to talk to you. Please, please reach out. You will be missed by someone!! You are stronger than you think. You just need to prove it to yourself. 9-8-8. Call it. I understand that the weight of the world could be on you. You need to call 9-8-8 and let someone help you relieve that weight. That burden.

I’ve talked about it before, contact your HR and get your EAP to give you some free sessions. Its confidential. If you are in South Carolina, contact us here at Choices Counseling. 803-851-4049. We would love to help you, to listen to you and give you some tips to ease you on your journey. If you are out of the area, please call 9-8-8 and get your local resources. EAP can help you find a resource as well. You don’t have to fight alone anymore. Please take care of yourself, mentally, physically, and emotionally. You are loved and someone out there would miss you terribly. By Marie B. Suicide Hotline: 9-8-8

SAMHSA: 1-877-SAMHSA-7 (1-877-726-4727)

#mental health #mentalheathawareness #life #stress #law enforcement #ems #fire department #first responder #firefighter #police #paramedic #EMT

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miguelillusion · 2 years ago

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so I did it. Yipeeeeeee.

UPDATE: I changed the eye style a bit bc I didn't like the other one :[

"Why hello there!" He approaches you enthusiastically. It was a startling presence. "Are you lost 'ere too, buddy? Well, guess what? I am too! So we're lost together!" He points up his finger, then begins to search in his bag. He pulls out a glass bottle with a light, periwinkle blue liquid inside. He holds it out to you, "Look, friend. You ain't gonna get very far without some protection, and from the looks of it, you have near to nothing! So, here. My gift to you." You hesitate. He laughs, "Don't worry! I've got my own already." This boy shows his left hip. There are two more bottles, one red, one black, hung on his belt. You decide to take the bottle in his hand. It's cold.

"Wait. One thing," he says, "Use that sparingly. We don't want any..." He coughs, "Trouble, y'know?"

You nod. He smirks, "Good, you understand." He holds his hand out for a high five, "Now let's go get out of here, what d'ya say?"

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

Yeesssss I did the DTIYS for Yasur.

This little guy's name is shArd. He used to be an elemental master of Amethyst, but he was stripped of that when he was Spellbound. Instead, he weilds two elemental bottles: fire (because of his culture's connections with it), and earth (core of where his element stems from).

Now for outfit design (dear first master)

shArd is sensitive to specific clothing options. Which is why you would often find him in sweats or really short shorts. Hence, i made the outfit more revealing. I split the skirt thingy down the middle, and did not add a cape. He believes it impacts his agility. He always adds fingerless gloves to everything. It's his little signature. Then there are the little charms (on his hat and the sleeve. He added these for aesthetic purposes, along with something just to hold. Added a little transparent sleeve. He likes his outfit content simple; nothing too bulky.

His wepon is a staff, but guess what. Ooh. It can become two baby daggers.

Base/Concept Art:

Sorry for terrible quality, I think clicking will make it better (that's what everyone else says).

But uhh yeah this was fun.

#yasur1kdtiys #ninjago #dtiys #ninjago dtiys #spellbound #illusion's pencil #that's my art tag now. It's perfect.#ACCIDENTALLY TAGGED THIS AS COLE TF!?!??!RHHAJSBAJDJS

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laxuscouldnever · 3 years ago

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Laxus Dreyar x Exceed!Reader

Y/N walked around the dark forest, unsure of what lies around him. He held his tail in his hands and took slow steps. After the exceeds came to Earthland, they all decided to go their separate ways. Y/N didn't leave with anyone, he just walked towards the big forest.

Y/N could see a small light ahead of him. A town, maybe? he thought, excitedly. He quietly crept towards the light. He hid behind a tree and looked towards the source. It wasn't a town, but a small campfire. A man was lying next to it, seemingly asleep. Y/N looked at the man's bag near the fire. He could see there were some fruits inside. As if on cue, the H/C exceed's stomach growled, hungry for some food.

The exceed thought for a moment. Would the man mind if he took just one piece of food? I'm sure he's got enough for himself. Y/N took a deep breath and slowly made his way towards the bag. He quietly crept around the sleeping man and opened the bag, just enough to reach his paw in and grab something.

The man heard the rummaging and slowly opened his eyes. He saw the cat and sat up. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he asked, sternly. The excess jumped up, startled by the loud noise. He didn't say anything, just looked at the man. "You gonna explain yourself or just stare at me like I'm stupid?" the man sat up all the way and stared down Y/N. "I-I was just, er, checking for...bugs! Yeah, just making sure your food is clear of bugs!" Y/N said nervously.

"You're one of those weird cats? Like Natsu's little cat." the man pointed out. "Y-Yes, I'm an exceed. From Edolas!" Y/N said. The man didn't say anything. "If you're hungry, you can say so. I don't mind," the man said, his face softened at the cat. "Really? Are you sure?" the man chuckled. "Yeah, I'm sure," Y/N pulled out the orange he had found and slowly began eating it. "You eat the peel?" the man said in disbelief. Y/N nodded. "You don't?" he questioned. The man shook his head but said nothing.

"So, cat, you got a name?" the man asked as Y/N finished up the rest of his snack. "Yeah, I'm Y/N. What's your name?" Y/N said, walking to sit over by the man. "Laxus," he said. "Laxus. Are you a wizard?" Y/N asked. "Yeah," Laxus said, reaching his hand out to show Y/N a few sparks of lightning.

The exceed watched in awe. "Wow! That's so cool!" he exclaimed. Laxus smiled. "So, where you headed?" Laxus asked. "I don't know. I don't know where anything is." Y/N admitted. Laxus thought for a moment. "You can come with me if you'd like," Laxus suggested. "You'd let me go with you?" Y/N asked, hopeful. "Yeah, I don't mind having a road buddy." Laxus smiled softly at the excited cat. "Yeah! I'd love to go with you!" The exceed jumped a little bit. Laxus let out a little laugh.

"We should probably get some sleep. We'll be walking a lot." Laxus suggested. "Ok! Let's get some sleep!" Y/N said. Laxus laid back down and began falling asleep. He felt some fur against his hand and cracked his eyes open. Y/N had curled up right next to Laxus. Laxus patted his head and went back to sleep.

From that day on, Laxus and Y/N became inseparable. They were partners in everything they did. Laxus would carry Y/N if his feet got tired and Y/N would fly into the trees to get some of the fruits. They were a perfect team.

One day, Laxus decided to go to Fairy Tail's sacred island. He felt as though something was wrong and needed to figure it out. "Is this safe?" Y/N was a little nervous about Laxus using his Lightning Body spell on the both of them. "Yeah, don't worry about it. You trust me don't you?" Laxus asked. Y/N nodded and clung onto Laxus. In a split second, Laxus and Y/N were in a large ship. A man with long gray hair and an eyepatch stood in front of them.

Y/N felt fear creep into his body and hid behind Laxus. "Laxus?" a familiar voice said from behind them. "Natsu! Hi!" Y/N said excitedly. "Hey! You're one of the exceeds! What are you doing with Laxus?" Natsu asked. "Nows not the time for a catch-up. Get him somewhere safe, would you?" Laxus said. Y/N quickly flew over to Natsu. "Are you ok?" Y/N asked. "It's just some bruising! No big deal!" Natsu said with a smile.

They watched as Laxus and Hades fought. Y/N was always so impressed with Laxus every time he used his magic. It looked so cool and Laxus was so strong. When Laxus got hit and was paralyzed, Y/N felt his heart drop. "Laxus..." he said worriedly. "Natsu? Can you take it over from here?" Laxus asked. "Yeah, I got it, man," Natsu said, standing up from his spot on the ground. Laxus gave some of his power to Natsu and took the chance to rest. Y/N quickly flew over to his dragon slayer partner. "Laxus? Are you alright?" he asked. "Yeah, don't worry about me. I'm good," Laxus reassured him.

When Hades was finally defeated, the members left the ship and went to find the rest of the Fairy Tail members. "Over here guys!" a blue-haired girl yelled. There was a group of people standing around, some of them wearing bandages in multiple places. "Levy! I'm so glad you're okay," Lucy said. The group of wizards walked over to join their friends. "Laxus, what are you doing here? This is sacred Fairy Tail land and you're still expelled," a short man said angrily. "Yeah, I know. I just felt something was wrong and had to come and make sure you were all safe," Laxus said. The short man turned his attention to Y/N. "I see you've found yourself an exceed," he said. "Hi! I'm Y/N," the small cat said. "It's nice to meet you," he said.

Later on that day, Makarov found himself watching Laxus and Y/N interact. Laxus reached inside of his bag and handed the cat an orange, something the cat looked extremely happy to see. Makarov's face changed to an expression of disgust when the cat didn't even bother to peel the fruit before taking a big bite of it. "I don't get why you don't just peel it. Orange peels are absolutely disgusting," Laxus said. "It's good! Your tastebuds are just stupid," Y/N said. "That doesn't even make any sense, furball," Laxus snapped. This just caused Y/N to laugh at Laxus.

Suddenly, there was a shift in the atmosphere. Laxus found himself immediately grabbing Y/N and pulling him close. "L-Laxus? What's wrong?" the cat asked. "I don't know," Laxus said. There was a large shadow cast over the group of mages. They all looked up and saw a huge black and blue dragon circling the island. Y/N held onto Laxus's shirt out of fear. "It's okay. I won't let it hurt you." Laxus patted the cat's head, reassuring him. Y/N had complete faith in his partner and trusted him with his life. "I trust you, Laxus," he said. Laxus smiled at the cat and prepared to battle with the rest of his ex-guildmates.

The rest of the Thunder Legion gathered near Laxus. "I hope that cat isn't some replacement for us," Evergreen said jokingly. Laxus smiled at her. "Nah. He's more of an...addition," he said. Evergreen and Bickslow made sounds of understanding. "It's nice to see you again, Laxus," Freed said, taking his spot next to Laxus. Laxus smiled and nodded at the man.

Attack after attack and nothing seemed to leave scratch on the beast. "Laxus, what are we going to do?" Y/N asked, panicking. "Don't worry, we'll be okay," Laxus said, panting. Y/N felt his body start to tremble in fear. Laxus felt it, too, so he reached over and patted the cat's head. "You'll be fine, I promise. Have I ever let you get hurt?" Laxus asked. "Well, there was that one time-" Laxus cut him off. "That was completely your fault! You should've watched where you were flying!" he said. "You should've warned me there was a huge tree in the way!" Y/N argued. "We were in a forest! Of course there were trees!" Laxus said. "Now is not the time for arguing. We have a bigger problem at hand," Erza snapped at the two.

And with one attack from the beast, the world went dark. Laxus held Y/N as close as he could, protecting him from whatever would happen, but it was no use. The entire island sunk.

#laxus dreyar #laxus #laxus x reader #x reader #male reader #exceed #fairy tail #fairy tail x reader #imagine

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nolistra · 3 years ago

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Meet the five giants from an au with my buddy Fai! Here we see them in their born toddler stage :D They are basically Monkeys that were born through similar means as Wukong Imma be drawing em all like this as adults sometime too! Raizha Wong - Born of Lightning and Storms

Junai Shun - Born of Fire and Ashes

Liu er Mihou - Born of Shade and Water

Sun Wukong - Born of Wind and Earth

Guang zhi yu - Born of Rain and Light

DISCLAIMER: We know we dont abide the actual “canon” myth and stuff. But we dont claim to be. We are merely doing this for fun and cause we enjoy making up weird funky monkey stories pfff. Names may be similar and we take inspiritation from other media, but we do not intent to insult any cultures or fandoms. We are just here to have fun <3

#monkey journeys #art #sun wukong #raizha wong #junai shun #liu er mihou #guang zhi yu

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frodo-with-glasses · 3 years ago

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More Reading Thoughts: “The Black Gate Opens”

What’s this?? Another chapter review within a week of the last one??? Gasp! Incredible! Unheard of!

(I just didn’t have a lot of stuff to draw for the last chapter, haha. We’ll see how this one goes.)

Haha another reference to people traveling “in the van”. Guess I’ll have to draw another Volkswagen ;-P

Aww, Merry is left behind…poor thing. Poor all of them, really.

“Bergil was with him, and he also was downcast; for his father was to march leading a company of the Men of the City: he could not rejoin the Guard until his case was judged.” Oh nooo, Bergil, bby 🥺 Has to watch his father leave, wondering if he’ll come back. Argh.

And Merry has to do the same thing with Pippin!! Argh! This is just like that one scene in the movie, but without Aragorn at his side to comfort him…

“Everyone that he cared for had gone away into the gloom that hung over the distant eastern sky; and little hope at all was left in his heart that he would ever see any of them again.” Merry noooooooo 😭😭

“He was roused by the touch of Bergil’s hand. ‘Come, Master Perian!’ said the lad. ‘You are still in pain, I see. I will help you back to the Healers. But do not fear! They will come back. The Men of Minas Tirith will never be overcome. And now they have the Lord Elfstone, and Beregond of the Guard too.’” BBY SON 😭😭😭 Bergil has inherited his father’s defiant optimism. You keep up your spirits, buddy.

The king’s head!! They put the king’s head back on the statue!!

And they broke the bridge to Minas Morgul and set fire to the sickly white flowers. Good. This may only be small pocket change compared to the might of Mordor, but any way they can destroy the darkness and ruin and replace it with beauty and light is a good thing.

Imrahil urging them to use the name “King Elessar” for the psychic damage is GoodTM.

EYYYYYY MABLUNG MY DUDE

Aragorn guessing the mind of Sauron is giving me huge Death Note vibes. “He knows that I know that he knows, etc. etc…”

Oh now this is interesting. Some of the men from Rohan and Lossnarch are too afraid to keep going towards Mordor, so instead of scolding them, Aragorn tells them to turn back and take the port city of Cair Andros back from the enemy if they can. Some of them do, and it’s good, because they’ll still have the chance to prove their courage with a battle that’s more their speed. And others choose to stay with Aragorn, who treated their weakness with kindness.

I could make SO many spiritual parallels here, like SO many, but I think I’ll save that for a future essay post.

Ohhhhhohoho Mouth of Sauron time—

“At its head there rode a tall and evil shape, mounted upon a black horse, if horse it was; for it was huge and hideous, and its face was a frightful mask, more like a skull than a living head, and in the sockets of its eyes and in its nostrils there burned a flame.” OHOHOHO DUUUUUUUDE

NOBODY TOLD ME THAT THE HORSE OF THE MOUTH OF SAURON WAS THIS METAL BRUH

Aragorn: *has a staring contest with the Mouth of Sauron* The Mouth: “I CAME OUT HERE TO HAVE A GOOD TIME AND I’M HONESTLY FEELING SO ATTACKED RIGHT NOW”

“And there to the wonder and dismay of all the Captains [the Messenger] held up first the short sword that Sam had carried, and next a grey cloak with an elven-brooch, and last the coat of mithril-mail that Frodo had worn wrapped in his tattered garments.” aND A BROKEN PAIR OF EYEGLASSES HAHAHA F R I C K—

Gandalf: “Bring out the halfling, and we’ll consider your terms!” The Mouth: “👀 Umm…ahaha…about that…er, ah, FOOLS! HOW DARE YOU CHALLENGE SAURON!”

I love the fact that the Mouth of Sauron panics here 🤣🤣 HE DOESN’T HAVE FRODO!! SAM CAME AND GOT HIM AND THEY ESCAPED! LOLOL

Actually, if you look at his words carefully, you can tell that Sauron actually has no idea how bad he fumbled this. He speaks of ONE Halfling, not two. He speaks of a SPY, not a carrier of the Ring. He briefly panics when Gandalf demands to see Frodo as evidence. Don’t you think Sauron would take the chance to brag about it, if he’d gotten the Ring back from Frodo?? But he hasn’t!! The Halfling(s) slipped through his grasp! And he has NO IDEA how big of a cock-up this is!!! HAHAHAHAHA GET REKT DIAPER-BABY

But in the moment, we don’t have time to pick apart his words. In the moment, the tiny army of the Free Peoples is surrounded by an enemy host more than ten times their size. It is reasonable to assume that they are all about to die. Hoooolyyyy crap.

Pippin thinking these grim thoughts about the end of his life, noooo. “I might as well die quickly and get it over with. It’s all gone wrong.” And he thinks of Merry, and he thinks of Frodo, and “I wish I could see cool sunlight and green grass again!”, and AAAAAHHHHHHH—

AND HE STABS!! A TROLL!! TO SAVE BEREGOND’S LIFE!!! AND IT FALLS ON TOP OF HIM AND CRUSHES HIM AND I *SCREEECH*

*sobbing* The Eagles are coming! The E-eagles are comi-hi-hiiing!

“‘This is my tale, and it is ended now. Good-bye!’ And his thought fled far away and his eyes saw no more.”

SHUT UPPPPPPPPPP 😭😭😭

(I would just like to issue a formal note of gratitude to C. S. Lewis for not letting Tolkien HECKING KILL PIPPIN in this scene. You have done the Lord’s work, sir. We salute you.) EDIT: Sorry, this is an unconfirmed rumor started by the RotK movie trivia website. Should’ve checked my facts first. :-P More discussion can be found here.

#aragorn #gandalf #meriadoc brandybuck #merry #peregrin took #pippin #beregond #bergil #imrahil #mablung #mention of:#frodo baggins #samwise gamgee #lord of the rings #lotr #my writing #assorted thoughts #sorry this was late!! my app was glitching

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inkandpen22 · 4 years ago

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Only Love, Only Hate (5/?)

Pairing: Riff x Latina!Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: swearing, fluff, angst

Part Summary: In their final hours before the rumble, Y/N and Riff hide away in her apartment.

A/N: Merry Christmas!!! Here’s my present to y’all!

Masterlist

I unlock the front door and peek my head inside cautiously. The lights in the kitchen and living room are shut off. "Mamá! Papá!" I call out. Only to receive no response. “Mateo?”

The sound of my bedroom window creaking echoes throughout the empty apartment. I hurry inside and drop my books onto the kitchen table on my way to my bedroom. I enter just in time to see Riff climbing in.

"I look forward to the day when I no longer have to climb the fire escape like a superhero." He grunts.

I giggle, moving across the room to pull back the curtains. "At least no one is home. We don't have to be so quiet and whisper."

He rises to his feet, towering over me with a smile. "Sounds nice," he mumbles before pressing his lips to mine.

I break away with a grin. “Shouldn’t you be with your fellow Jets? Preparing them, giving them some powerful speech?”

“Nah, I just want to be with you. They’ll be fine without me for a while,” he assures, brushing his lips against mine.

I lift my arms to drape over his shoulders. No Jets. No Sharks. No fighting. Just us. If only it could always be like this.

He mumbles between kisses. "How do you say, "this is my girlfriend back off, buddy" in Spanish?"

I laugh. "I am not telling you that!"

"How do I keep PR boys from looking at you?" He reasons.

"Talk to them civically as you would a boy like you!”

"Well, I wouldn’t talk to anyone calmly if they were looking at you.”

I roll my eyes with a slight groan. “Mi amor…” (my love)

“Oo, I like it when you call me that.” In one swift motion, Riff scoops me up and places me down on my desk. He stands between my legs and rests his hands on my thighs.

I laugh, cupping his face in my hands.

“Say it again?” He requests, glancing at my lips.

I lean in to whisper in his ear. “Eres un alborotador, mi amor.” (You’re a troublemaker, my love)

“Civil, huh?“ He asks.

I nod, pulling back to meet his gaze. “Sí.”

He sighs. “Boring but alright! Only because you asked."

“Oh! Muchas Gracias,” I remark sarcastically.

He chuckles. "You know, you never told me what you're in school for."

"Education."

He grins. "Well, I kinda gathered that much on my own, Sweetheart."

"I'm studying Education, silly! I want to be an art teacher,” I specify.

"Oh, right, right...” He nods. His eyes flicker down to my sketches left on the desk. He picks up one and inspects it. "Is that what these are from? I saw them last night."

"Sí, I have to draw something from life. I haven't been very good,” I sigh. “My professor says I lack inspiration and originality.”

He looks at me wide-eyed. "Better than anything I can do."

I place a quick peck on his cheek. "I'm sure that's not true."

"You have too much faith in me." He chuckles, setting down the sketch before placing his hands on my waist. "It's cool that you have a plan, ambitions. I haven't put much thought into what I want to do. I just always figured I'd end up in some factory job around here." He shrugs, then a cheeky grin forms on his lips. "But if we're gonna afford a house with lots of land upstate I'm gonna need somethin' a little better."

I caress his cheek. "Whatever you do will be enough." I kiss him softly.

When we part, I stare into his sparkling crystal eyes and a million questions cross my mind. There are so many things to know and understand.

A faint blush develops on his cheeks. “What is it?”

“You already know so much about me. I want to know everything about you. What you love, what you hate, what drives you crazy!”

He chuckles. “Well, I’m Irish, basically as white as it gets.”

“Is that why you have this bracelet?” I ask, taking the four-leaf clover pendant between my fingers.

He nods, peering down at it. “It was my mom’s.”

My eyes flicker up to his chest and I scoop up his necklace. “And this?”

“My grandpa gave it to me. He got it during the war in Germany.”

My fingers glide down to his forearms. On his right, a tattoo of a woman with a flower. “And your tattoos? What do they mean?”

A smirk creeps up on the edge of his lips. Silently, Riff grabs the hem of his shirt and pulls it over his head. Then, he does the same to his undershirt, revealing all of his tattoos and torso.

I had seen his tattoos last night. Since then, I have been curious. I hadn’t seen so many on one person. Having one is rare enough.

Riff watches me as I glide my fingertips across his skin and over the dark drawings.

“Did they hurt?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “Not really. I’ve felt worse.”

Slowly, I brush my lips across his collarbone and plant a soft kiss to the lettering. Riff tilts his head back, his eyes falling shut.

“I never want to imagine you in pain…” I whisper against his neck.

“Baby...” Riff tucks his fingers beneath my chin, urging me back to meet his gaze. “I know you’re scared, but it will be okay.”

“You’re going to get hurt!” I worry aloud.

“I can take it!” He assures me with a confident grin. “And I’ll come here right after so you can nurse me back to health.”

I giggle. That plan doesn’t sound too bad.

He narrows his gaze. “What are your doing tomorrow?”

I shrug. “I don’t have class. I’ll probably take Mateo to school and see if Anita needs help downstairs. Why?”

“I want to go see Bernardo and tell him about us. I don’t want to have to hide anymore. Once everyone knows, we can be happy!”

My eyes grow wide. “And what if he gets angry and forbids us to see each other! The Sharks-”

He cups my face and voices with certainty. “Nothing. Nothing can keep me from you.” He shrugs casually. “Plus, not if, when the Jets win tonight I will have ultimate say. Bernardo will just have to accept it.”

I snicker, in disbelief of his unwavering confidence. “You make it sound so simple.”

“It will be, Baby.” He almost guarantees.

“And you’ll come here straight after the rumble? Promise!” I plan to hold him to it.

“Promise.” He nods sharply. Then, he bites down on his lower lip. “And I’ll even stay if you’d like…” He insinuates.

I smirk, leaning closer to him. “Well, I was hoping you’d say that.”

“Oh yeah?” His eyes fall to my lips.

“Yeah…” I mutter as our lips brush against each other, this time more hungrily than before.

“I like waking up next to you,” he whispers.

My hands run down his chest and over his muscles as they flex under my touch. His fingers find the zipper on the back of my dress and start to urge it down. I want to be with him, every part of him. I feel like even then, I’ll want more. I’ll never get enough of him.

_______________________________

The mid-afternoon sun pours into my bedroom and onto my rug. Making up for lost time from this morning, Riff and I lay in my bed, pondering the silence and peace. No one can trouble us here. The world is far from us. Each passing minute is a minute closer to Riff’s departure.

I push the thought to the back of my mind. I rest my cheek against his chest as he glides his fingertips up and down my spine.

He releases a deep breath of contentment. “I wish we could stay here forever.”

“Yo también.”

“What time must you go?” I ask, unable to hide the concern in my tone.

He sighs and answers reluctantly. “Soon.”

I rest my chin on his chest, meeting his gaze. “Be careful?”

As worried as I am and though I can’t ignore the pit in my stomach, I don’t want it to consume the limited time we have together. I also don’t want Riff worrying about me tonight when he should be focusing on coming out okay.

“I’ll try to make it quick.” He lifts his hand and combs his fingers through the side of my hair before tucking the strands behind my ear. “So I can come back here to you.”

“You better,” I joke, sitting up to straddle his waist.

He chuckles, gripping my hips.

“If you take too long I might lock my window,” I playfully threaten.

“You wouldn’t,” he challenges.

I snicker as I lean down to start leaving a trail of kisses from his neck and down his chest. His eyes fall shut with a soft, relaxed, exhale. He rubs his thumbs over my hips and he holds them. This may be the calmest and content I’ve ever seen him.

A raddling of the front door followed by the creak it makes when it’s opened causes me to snap up from my task. Riff’s eyes fly open and meet mine. Heels click against the tile and the tick of the light switch is next.

"Wait here!" I whisper as I climb off Riff and eventually the bed. I hurry over to snatch my robe off my mirror. I quickly tie it around me.

Riff sits up, nervously eyeing the door.

I plant a quick kiss to his cheek. “Don’t sneak off without saying goodbye!”

He nods frantically.

I peek my head through my bedroom hesitantly. "Hola? Quién está ahí?"

Rapid footsteps in the kitchen soon reveal Anita popping out from around the corner. "Oh good, you're home!”

I emerge from my room and make sure to shut the door close behind me.

Anita returns to the kitchen. “I’m dropping off some groceries I promised your mamá!” She shouts.

I shuffle into the room, wrapping my arms around myself. I watch timidly as she unpacks a grocery bag.

“I also came by to get that yellow dress. I haven't had time to wash out that stain but I can get to it now."

My heart sinks. The dress is in my room. Riff is in my room. Nothing keeps Anita from walking in there except my terrible lying capabilities and my bedroom door.

As if she can read my mind, she pauses her task. “You know, I should really get it now before I forget.” She starts to cross the kitchen toward my bedroom.

Impulsively, I rush ahead of her and block my door. "No!"

She frowns at me in confusion.

"I mean...” I laugh nervously. “Don't worry about it! I can have Mamá fix it. I actually stuck it in the tub for a bit and scrubbed it really well!"

"Oh really?” She crosses her arms over her chest.

“Sí!” I swallow hard.

“¿Cuándo fue esto?” (When was this?)

"This morning... before class.”

She purses her lips with a hum. “Because I saw your Mamá on her way to the shop this morning. She told me to come to get the dress this afternoon..."

Anita’s eyes scan my appearance, noting my robe. When they return to my focus, they’re even more respectful. "She said she had you not try to clean in case it made it worse."

"I did it after she left."

She narrows her gaze. "Your class starts before her shift. What's going on Y/N?"

"Nothing!” I defend. “I'm just... I'm still pretty upset from last night and would just like to wallow about it in my room alone." I place a hand on Anita’s shoulder and turn her around to usher her back to the kitchen. "Emotional teenager, what can I say?"

She snickers and strolls with me back toward the kitchen. "You know, I also ran into Constantina and Sophía on their walk home from class."

Oh no...

"They mentioned something rather odd to me." She recalls.

“Oh really?” I laugh, trying my best not to appear panicked. “Well, you know them, all for the gossip!”

"Yeah, something about you and a gringa..." Swiftly, she spins on her heels and starts toward my bedroom.

“Anita!” I freeze.

Her eyes remain locked on me with a knowing stare. "They remember her yelling something about a Jet boy." She swings open my bedroom door and it hits the wall with a thud.

My hands fly up to my mouth as all of the air in my lungs disappears. Anita’s eyes land on Riff as he finishes buckling his belt. She swallows hard, her eyes falling to the distant floor as he continues to get dressed.

His initial surprise fades to a sternness, as though he doesn’t care if she knows. I wish I was relieved that at least someone I love knows, but instead, I feel guilt.

Anita mumbles under her breath, “hijo de puta.” (son of a bitch)

Her eyes meet mine and she clenches her jaw. She storms back toward the kitchen, passing me in the process.

I follow her and plead. “¡No le digas a Bernardo!” (Don’t tell Bernardo!)

She faces me furiously. “¿No le digas a Bernardo? ¡Cómo esperas que no lo haga! ¡Es un gringo! ¡El Gringo! ¡Nos odia!” (Don’t tell Bernardo? How can you expect me not to? He’s a gringo! The gringo! He hates us!)

I shake my head rapidly. “¡No! ¡Él me ama y yo lo amo!” (No! I love him and he loves me!)

She laughs dismissively, not persuaded. All she knows is what Bernardo has told her.

Riff emerges from my bedroom and stands at my side. Anita backs away from him nervously, eventually bumping into the counter.

He snakes his arm around my waist. “It’s true, I love her.”

Anita points at him warningly. “You stay out of this! You’re the reason we’re in this mess at all, any of us! You couldn’t just leave us alone!”

He sighs, “I-”

“It’s not all his fault and you know it!” I shout. “Nardo and the Sharks are equally responsible!”

Anita grips the roots of her hair. “He has you brainwashed, Y/N!”

“I would never hurt Y/N,” Riff assures her, despite knowing full well his word means nothing to her.

She scoffs bitterly with disgust. “No, just the rest of us, right?”

“Anita...” I mutter.

Riff steps in front of me and cups my face. “I have to go...”

I wrap my fingers around his wrist desperately. “No!”

“I’m sorry...” He turns his head and kisses my palm. “I’ll be back soon.”

I nod slowly. Tears wheel up in my eyes but I do everything in my power to suppress them. I don’t want Riff to be distracted with concern for me.

He presses his lips to mine softly and all I think is: ‘I wish we had one more minute.’

Anita huffs, turning her back toward us to focus out the window above the sink.

Riff rests his forehead against mine. His ocean eyes consuming my sight.

“Te amo,” he whispers.

“Te amo.” My voice shakes.

He leaves a prolonged kiss on my forehead before rising to his full height. He glances between me and Anita. She remains facing the window, unwilling to look him in the eye.

He holds my hand until the last second and then kisses my knuckles. “I’ll be back soon.”

I nod and silently pray he can stand by his word. I watch as he hurries back into my bedroom and climbs out the window without looking back. I should’ve studied his eyes longer. I should’ve held his hand longer. I should’ve memorized his face. There’s so much I should’ve done.

“Get dressed.” Anita voices softly as she attempts to return to unpacking the groceries. “Before your mamá gets home with your brother.”

“Anita, I’m so sorry,” I tell her as tears start to fall.

She ignores me and goes about the kitchen putting items away.

I step closer, pressing my hands on the kitchen table. “I love him...” I state like a confession.

She shakes her head.

“Riff said he’d try to end it quickly!” I try to ease her concern. “We’re going to tell Bernardo tomorrow!”

She pauses, finally meeting my gaze with a narrowed stare. “And you trust him?”

“With everything I have,” I state with full certainty

Her lips part, a torn expression coating her features. Her eyes start to appear glossy and she clenches her jaw. “If anything happens to Bernardo tonight, it’s him you’ll have to apologize to.”

A silence falls between us. Soon, she finishes unpacking everything and starts toward the door.

“Could I come upstairs please?” I rush out anxiously. “At least for a little while? I can’t stand to be here alone while they’re out there-” I stop myself, unable to say it aloud.

Anita nods slowly, meeting my gaze with a hint of sympathy. “Yes, of course, mi niña. I’ll make us some tea too, calm our nerves.” She offers me a weak smile and opens the front door.

“Hey Anita?”

She hums, turning over her shoulder.

“Thank you…” I express softly.

“We’re still family, Mija,” she assures me. “Besides, I could use the company too.”

I nod, a sense of relief slowly easing my mind.

While Anita heads upstairs, I go to change. I leave my window unlocked and try not to think too much about where Riff is headed. If I think about it all for too long, I start to feel sick. Each minute feels like hours and my hands won’t stop shaking. There’s a steady strain in my throat. All I can do is pray he makes it out of this unscathed.

_____________________________

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