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fluentmoviequoter · 9 months ago

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A Family at Your Side

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x shy!paramedic!fem!Buckley!reader

Summary: You, Evan Buckley's sister, are a paramedic with the 118. When you're called to a fire, it quickly becomes a crime scene when someone opens fire on you. Your boyfriend Tim Bradford and your fire station family have to work together to save you.

Warnings: angst, fluff, injuries (r is shot), depiction of arson/shooting, lots of teasing. [While r is Evan's sister, I don't put anything specific in here past some teasing, so it could be viewed as adoptive or some other relationship dynamic!]

Word Count: 2.6k+ words

A/N: I've only seen a few episodes of 911 (season 1), so I hope my characterization of them isn't completely terrible. I really like this dynamic though; it's so fun and complex!!

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Picture from Pinterest

“There’s no escape,” you whisper under your breath, desperately wishing for some relief.

“Oh, c’mon, we’re not that bad,” Buck replies, knocking his fist against your shoulder. ��We’re better than the cop.”

“In every way!” Hen adds, smiling at you. “Why you started dating him is one of the two things I will never understand about you.”

“What’s the other?” you ask.

“How you-“ she turns to point to Buck as she continues, “and him are related. He can’t shut up and you can’t make eye contact.”

“I got all the good genes,” Buck explains, smiling.

“Yet none of the smarts,” Hen argues, pressing her lips together as she tilts her head.

“Or looks,” Nash calls from his place in the kitchen. “Now if you’re done bothering her, can someone set the table?”

You stand to help, and Nash points a spatula at you as he says, “Not you. You do it all the time. Make your brother do something for once.”

“She has no power over me!” Buck yells dramatically. “I have leverage. Like that time she-“

Chimney hits the back of his head, telling him to stop, as your chin drops to your chest. The alarm goes off before you can wonder which embarrassing story he was planning to use, and as you rush to the ambulance with Hen, you’re glad Chimney stopped him. Their attention was bad enough without him divulging your personal information.

✯✯✯✯✯

“This is a suspected arson, meets the MO of a few previous fires. We need that fire out before the police get here so they can get in,” Nash announces.

“Anyone inside?” Hen asks.

As Nash answers, someone screams in pain, and you look at Nash. He hesitates before nodding, and you grab your bag before running into the clear side of the duplex.

“Los Angeles Fire and Rescue,” you call. “Is anyone in here?”

“Yes! I need help!” a man yells from the back of the dwelling.

Rushing through, you radio to the rest of the 118 that you’re looking for an injured resident.

“We can’t get the fire under control,” Buck answers, his voice tight. “You need to get out of there.”

“I see him. Keep trying, Buck. Sir, are you injured?”

“No, I don’t think so,” he answers shakily. “I smelled the smoke and- and I have asthma, but I couldn’t tell where it was coming from, and I was scared to leave.”

“Okay, take a deep breath, sir. I’m a paramedic, so I’m going to get you out of here and then we’ll make sure your airways are clear. Do you understand?”

He nods but refuses when you gesture for him to stand.

“It’s on fire!” he argues.

“Sir, we have a clear track to the front door, but the fire will spread with the Santa Anas blowing outside, so we need to go now,” you explain.

Something crashes outside, and you pull the man to his feet.

“Get out of there! If I don’t see you in ten seconds, I’m coming in after you,” Buck radios.

“We’re coming, Buck,” you answer, pulling the man along.

More sirens become audible as you reach the door, the fire much closer to the front of the building. Several police cars approach, and you breathe a sigh of relief. The man stops, and you turn toward him quickly.

“Sir, we’re almost there,” you remind him, pointing to the ambulance.

“He’s still out here!”

“Who?” you ask, your voice quieting again as the adrenaline wears off.

“The man who set the fire!”

You freeze, a sudden cold rush contrasting the heat from the fire.

“Where is he?”

“I- I don’t know.”

A shot rings through the air, and you drop to the small porch, pulling the man behind the railing beside you. The fire is moving toward you, but with no idea of where that shot came from, you can’t move and risk your life and this man’s.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Everybody down!” Nash yells, ducking behind the truck.

“7-Adam-19, shots fired at my location. LAFD 118 and LAPD in need of backup, dispatch air support for possible sniper,” Tim calls, kneeling behind his shop before rushing to the fire truck.

“She’s still up there,” Buck calls, squatting behind the ambulance with Hen.

“Who?”

Buck and Nash look at each other and then Tim, and he immediately knows they’re talking about you.

“Backup is on the way, but we can’t do anything yet,” Tim explains.

“Bradford, the fire is spreading, we can’t stop it with this wind!” Nash adds.

“Or a sniper taking shots at us!” Buck yells. He drops his head to his radio to ask, “Sis, you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. What’s going on?”

“Bradford and Thorsen are here, they called for backup but we can’t do anything until-“

Another shot cuts him off, and you move back against the railing.

“Talk to me!” Buck yells into his receiver.

“I’m okay, Buck,” you reply quietly. “Our- uh- our guy passed out after working himself up, so…”

“He’s not our primary concern right now,” Buck responds.

“Careful,” you warn, your voice nearly inaudible.

“No, I happen to agree,” Nash adds to the conversation.

Tim pulls Chimney’s radio from his chest to say, “I do too. You take care of you, and we’ll worry about him when we can get up there.”

The radio stays quiet, and Tim looks around the end of the truck. He can’t see you, but knowing you’re out of sight and safe makes him feel better.

“Uh, Tim?” Aaron asks. “Eyes on our shooter.”

Tim turns quickly, looking up. He sees the end of the rifle, and when it lowers suddenly, he doesn’t think before yelling at you.

“Stay down!” he screams.

You drop lower, your face to the concrete as the shooter releases several rounds, making a line of bullet holes across the front of the duplex. The fire is moving slowly, but it’s still closing in on your hiding place.

The cold feeling hasn’t gone away, and as you look at the unconscious man at your side, you can only hope to make it out alive.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Where is your backup?” Buck asks Tim, leaning forward to look past Hen.

“Still a minute out. Aaron and I are going to go through that building, find a way to the roof,” Tim answers.

“Be careful. We all care about the woman stuck back there,” Nash reminds him.

Aaron and Tim nod before moving between the shop and the fire truck, rushing to the main entrance and entering quietly.

“Go left, I’ll go right,” Tim whispers.

As they move up the stairs, Tim hears their backup and the airship approaching. He hopes that the shooter doesn’t do anything stupid when he sees the police and gestures for Aaron to go faster.

“LAPD, put the weapon down!” an officer demands over the speaker of the airship.

“Thorsen, go!” Tim yells, kicking the door open to walk onto the roof.

The man turns the rifle up, shooting toward the helicopter before it moves. Aaron and Tim approach from different sides, and when the gun suddenly drops and the man begins emptying his ammunition toward you, Tim doesn’t hesitate to shoot.

“7-Adam-19, suspect is down,” Aaron radios. “Tim, go get her.”

Nodding, Tim stands, rushing down the stairs and out into the road. The fire has worsened, and the 118 is still in place.

Evan sees Tim and clenches his jaw, stepping toward Tim to yell, “This is your fault! It’s all on you!”

Tim’s brows furrow, looking to Nash for more information.

“She’s, uh- she’s not responding to the radio calls, and we can’t get up there until we get part of the fire out, enough to get through with our gear,” Nash explains.

“You should have brought enough backup to begin with or gone up there sooner!” Buck continues.

“You think I don’t know that?” Tim snaps. “But she was already stuck when I got here, so work on getting to her and getting her safe, and then you can get mad at me!”

“And if it’s too late?” Buck demands, his chest heaving in anger.

Tim looks away, and Buck moves forward quickly, causing Nash and Chimney to lunge forward and hold him back.

“I’ll kill you if we’re too late!”

“Buck!” Tim yells, walking to him. “I know this is my fault and if she doesn’t make it, her blood is on my hands. I’m sorry, I really am, but there is nothing I can do now except keep people back so you can get this fire out and find out if- and make sure she is okay.”

Buck relaxes slightly, pushing Chimney and Nash off of him.

“Let’s get her out!” Nash calls, directing everyone to their positions.

✯✯✯✯✯

The man beside you groans as you tug him further against the wall. You’re caged in against the fire, and you dropped your radio, watching it burn as you kept your head down.

When water sprays onto your face, a steady stream coming from the street, you force a smile, hoping to get out, get warm, and hug your brother and Tim for as long as you can before they make you shy away from them. You love them for it, you remember, reminding yourself to think happy thoughts.

“Where’s the ambulance?” the man slurs before coughing.

“Just a minute, sir, keep your head down and breathe.”

The fire is driven back by two hoses, and when several feet are clear on the side of the railing, people begin yelling.

“Sis! Can you hear me?” Buck asks loudly, appearing in his turnout gear a moment later.

“Get him to the ambulance,” you reply, standing shakily as he pulls the man over his shoulder.

You walk into the small yard, looking for Tim. The persistent cold feeling is just beginning to concern you, and when you grow dizzy and stop in the yard, you realize that something is wrong. Raising your hands to press against your stomach, you begin to run through a mental list of potential injuries.

“Hey, hey, gorgeous, c’mon, we got to get back,” Tim calls as he jogs to your side. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you murmur, ducking away from his hands on your face.

“Good,” Tim replies, laying his hand on your upper back and directing you to the curb.

“You got lucky,” Buck grumbles, joining your other side across from Tim.

“We all did our jobs, Buck, she’s safe, just leave it,” Tim says lowly.

“No thanks to you!” Buck responds, stepping forward.

You recognize the look in his eyes, an anger he seems to reserve for you. Without thinking, you move a hand from your navel and push it against Buck’s chest to stop him. He and Tim look at your bloody hand before yelling your name as you tip back.

Buck catches you, lowering you onto the grass as he rips your shirt open.

“Hen!” he screams, a pained, guttural sound that draws the attention of the entire 118.

Hen sees you on the ground, unconscious between Buck and Tim, and rushes to you, her bag thrown over her shoulder.

“GSW,” she decides quickly, looking at your stomach, a mess of tattered fabric and blood. “Roll her over, carefully.”

Tim keeps his hands on your side, helping Buck tip you onto one side as Hen runs her hand down your spine.

“No exit wound, we need to go. Now.”

Leaning back, Tim gives Buck room to lift you, running to the ambulance as fast as possible.

“Are you coming?” he yells, raising his arms as he looks at Tim.

“Go!” Nash, Chimney, Aaron, and newly arrived Nolan yell.

Tim nods, rushing into the ambulance and sitting as it lurches into motion.

“I didn’t mean it,” Buck says, looking at you while he speaks to Tim. “It’s not your fault, but I can’t- I can’t lose her.”

“You won’t. We won’t,” Tim promises.

Hen works quickly, muttering under her breath about needing your help.

✯✯✯✯✯

When you open your eyes, you first notice the unmistakable feeling of someone looking at you and touching your side, a gentle touch as fingers drag up and down your skin.

“Is he okay?” you ask, blinking against the harsh light above you.

“The man from the duplex?” Buck asks. “Yeah, he’s fine. Had an asthma attack and then a few panic attacks, but he’s good. You- you got shot and didn’t tell anyone.”

Tipping your head down, you’re surprised he’s standing at the end of your bed. This means the fingers on your exposed side belong to…

“Tim,” you whisper, glancing at him.

“You scared us, baby,” he replies softly, spreading his warm hand over your skin.

He smiles when your muscles tense beneath him, but it quickly disappears when you groan in pain.

“I didn’t mean not to tell you,” you say quietly, pinching the blanket between your fingers. “I didn’t know I got shot.”

“That’s kinda- that’s pretty epic, really,” Buck says, laying his hand on your foot. “Makes a good party story.”

“I don’t go to parties,” you grumble.

“I mean for me,” he replies happily.

“Are you two fighting?” you ask, looking between them.

“No,” they answer together, both squeezing you reassuringly.

“We were scared and upset, didn’t have anywhere else to take it out,” Buck explains with a shrug. “He’s just lucky you stopped me from hitting him. I would’ve removed him from active duty for six weeks minimum.”

“You wish,” Tim scoffs.

“Stop,” you say, chuckling when they look shocked at your bold demand. “Please.”

“You were in surgery for a long time,” Tim tells you. “How’s your pain?”

“It’s fine, manageable. I mean, I can feel it now, but it’s not too bad.”

You glance down, your brows furrowing as you realize why you could feel Tim’s skin directly on yours.

“Wondering where your hospital gown is?” Tim asks, a smile you know all too well on his face. “I put in a special request.”

“Gross. That’s my sister,” Buck interjects. When you look at him with wide eyes, he sighs and fills you in: “They couldn’t get to your stomach well enough with one on. If you want to cover up, we’ll make sure you’re comfortable.”

“It’s okay,” you reply, gently tugging the band of your sports bra down.

“More than okay,” Tim says, quiet enough that Buck can’t hear.

You look away quickly, and Buck makes a ‘tsk’ sound.

“The shooter is in custody,” Tim says, giving you a break from his ‘abuse.’

“Will I have to testify or anything?” you whisper.

“No,” Tim and Buck answer together.

Buck pulls his phone from his pocket, nodding before shaking your ankle, his hand still resting on you.

“I have to go, we’ve got a call, but when we’re done, everyone wants to come by,” he says.

You nod. “Be careful. I love you.”

“Love you, sis!”

Looking at Tim’s chest rather than his face, he takes the chance to tease you. “Maybe you should get a shirt before your team gets here.”

“Get out,” you mumble. “Or give me yours.”

“Whoa! You get shot once and become a whole new person.”

“Wasn’t worth it.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Tim replies, taking your hand. “And I’m sorry that I couldn’t do anything to keep it from happening.”

“’S not your fault.”

Turning your attention back to the blanket, Tim asks, “You get this shy with your patients?”

“No. But they’re not as pushy.”

“Hey,” Tim calls, using his hand to gently turn your chin toward him. “I love you. I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“I love you, too. Thanks for being here through all of it.”

“Try to get rid of me.”

“I do. You never listen.”

Tim laughs, loud and happy, and you smile, turning your face into his arm where it holds your hand, glad he’s at your side, and you have a whole team, a family, to be with you through everything.

#tim bradford x reader #shy!reader #tim bradford fluff #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford #evan buckley #the rookie #911 abc #team shy!#fem!reader #requests

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sulatni-flerida11 · 5 days ago

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flames

inspired by wild life session 5 + some headcanons of the fandom :]

The moment Jimmy hears thunder strike – not from the wild card of the session, but from a fallen player – the joy that fills him quickly turns into something… burning. It doesn’t hurt, (in fact, it’s very pleasant), but he’s surprised about the sudden change. His teammates can’t offer him any advice about it, and he doesn’t dare to ask Grian at the moment as he’s still grieving.

He comes to the next person “best at handling problems” he knows, who also happens to be the one “best at handling fire.”

The sudden concentration of heat outside his not-so-flammable-anymore base made Tango raise a brow. The session is over, and though he can think of reasons to be on the receiving end of arson from this session, he doesn’t know why anyone would bother.

“Tango?” a familiar voice calls out. “Are you here, or?...”

He calls back as he fixes his belongings, “Hey Jimmy.” He hopes his smile is audible. His soft spot for the avian never faded away since they were soulbound, and they’re both sure whatever they’re feeling for each other has nothing to do with that mechanic.

“Could I… Mind giving me advice?”

“Give me a sec, hold on –” Tango finally secured his goodies from the Trivia Bot.

He walks out to greet Jimmy, (though he is also a bit confused as to why the other didn’t just walk in). “What do you need, songbird -”

He stops in his tracks.

Jimmy’s feathers are burning.

“What –” Tango approaches quickly, waving his hands around as an attempt to pat the flames down.

Jimmy laughs. “Tango, that’s unnecessary -”

“It’s unnecessary?” Tango feels himself heat up in anger directed at whoever caused this. “Jimmy, who am I killing next session -”

“You literally can’t do that. You’re green. I’m the one that needs the kill.”

“Then who am I helping you kill next session -”

“Tango!” Jimmy moves to grab Tango’s arms, and the latter moves away quickly.

“I’m running hot right now, Jim. You don’t want to touch me -”

“The flames don’t hurt me anymore.”

That stops Tango. “What?”

Jimmy flaps his wings, showing how the fire on the tips of the feathers continues to burn brightly. Even the few feathers on his face have sparks, and Jimmy isn’t flinching a single bit. Little puffs of smoke come out of it, similar to Tango’s flame of hair (if you can even call that hair).

Moving again, Jimmy finally grabs Tango, who snaps out of his shock the moment physical contact is made. His immediate reaction was to pull away, but Jimmy keeps his grip firm but gentle.

“I… I don’t think I’m quite a canary anymore.”

Slowly, his golden feathers envelope both of them. Tango watches carefully, instincts telling him to run, run, you’ll hurt him, but no signs of pain reveal themselves on Jimmy’s face.

“You’re like… a phoenix now,” Tango whispers in awe. The golden feathers look molten and bright with the fire, warmth seeping into his bones despite already being warmer than usual.

“Seems like it,” Jimmy laughs once more, and void Tango wishes to capture the vision in front of him for life. “I came here to ask how you handle your fire, since you were born with it and all, but…”

He motions between them, the gap closer than ever before without fire resistance potions now they don’t have to be cautious about Tango’s heat.

“... this is nice,” Jimmy finishes with a smile.

“Aww,” Tango groans fondly, “I don’t want to let go of you now. Mind me stealing you from your team?”

Jimmy slaps him lightly on the chest, “Don’t you dare! Unless you want Scar to come here and destroy your base again.”

“Fair.”

The two laugh, enjoying each other’s company and warmth.

#jimmy solidarity #tangotek #team rancher #trafficblr #trafficshipping #hermitshipping #wild life #wild life spoilers #<- jic #sulat ni flerida #wow the brainrot was strong for this too #i'm holding phoenix!jimmy close #but we all know #tango's gonna hold him closer #oh ranchers #love the ranchers #ree.sulat

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youling-the-ghost · 3 months ago

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sfth incorrect quotes pt.9 because the brainrot is getting to me

Luke: Thanks for not telling Tom what happened. AJ, dumbfounded: I wouldn’t even know where to begin trying to explain this. Tom: Anyone down to take couples counseling and see at what point the therapist realizes we barely know each other? Luke: Idiots to lovers, 20k words, angst with a happy ending. AJ: I know what a prism is! It's where you put bad people. (I just realised that I already had this quote in a past post)

AJ: Okay, what does A stand for? Luke: Arson. AJ: Aw, you're so good. Okay! B! What does B stand for? Luke: Barson. Sam: *laughter* AJ: What stands for C? Luke: Commit arson. Sam: Oooo. AJ: D! Luke: Don't come near me, I'm going to commit arson. Sam: *more laughter, slightly more evil this time* Tom: Hey, check out my Spongebob umbrella! *Tom opens his umbrella while indoors* Sam: Tom, that’s bad luck… Tom: Chill out, Sam! Luke, kicking down the door: WHO SUMMONED ME?!?! Tom and Sam: *screams* (Senor Pork-core) Tom: Hey, are you free? Sam: No, I’m expensive. Store Worker: Would a “Tom” please come to the front desk? Tom, arriving at the desk: Hello, is there a problem? Store Worker, pointing to AJ, Sam, and Luke: I believe they belong to you? AJ, Sam, and Luke, simultaneously: We got lost. Tom: I didn’t even bring you guys here with me- Luke: Tom, when’s your birthday? Tom: Why? So you can look up my natal chart? So you can figure out my weaknesses? So you can destroy me? Luke: ...So I know when to wish you a happy birthday. Luke: But also so I can plan your downfall. AJ: So, what is Luke to you? Sam: The reason I wake up every morning. AJ: ...That’s adorable. Luke earlier that morning, barging into Sam′s room, smacking pans together: WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP!!! AJ: *stands in trash can* Sam: AJ, not again! You're not trash, you're at least recycling! (I like to think that AJ just wanted to stand in the trash can) Sam: Big day today, Tom. *holds up two identical flannels* Mustard stain or ketchup stain? Tom: Mustard, looks less like blood. Tom: Yeah, I find it quite emotional. In like a cool way. Sam: Did you just say it makes you cry in a cool way? Luke: *writing a letter* Luke: Dear Santa, I'm writing to let you know I've been naughty...and it was worth it you fat, judgemental bastard. Tom: Damn, the power went out. AJ: Don’t worry, I got this. AJ: *stomps foot* Tom: What-? AJ: *Sketchers light up* Sam: You can’t have a gun on stage! Luke: WRONG! I can have a gun, and I must have a gun, that’s the rule of Chekhov’s Gun: have a gun. And now that it’s been seen, I will have to shoot someone before the end of the play. (Sam's just jealous that he doesn't have a gun) Tom: Oh no! I’m doomed! Sam: Seriously? All you have to do is not insult Luke at his own memorial service. Tom: Exactly! It’s impossible! AJ: Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, that’s fucked up. Like c'mon, you know I’m dumb as hell! Luke: Shouldn't get stressed out, it's not good for the baby. Tom: What baby? Luke, crying a bit: Me. Tom: That's not funny. Luke: I thought it was funny. Tom: You don't count. You started laughing in the middle of a funeral because you started thinking of a meme you saw on Facebook.

#shoot from the hip #shoot from the hip incorrect quotes #and yes I haven't posted one of these in a week #what about it #(/lh)#luke manning #tom mayo #sam russell #alexander jeremy

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ivegotyourbackbuddie · 5 months ago

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Working on the Fourth of July is always an adventure at the 118. Whether that’s a good or bad thing really depends on who you ask.

But when they get the call to a structure fire at an abandoned building with two victims… no one can really say it’s a good thing.

Buck is fidgeting on the way to the scene enough that Eddie nudges his knee as an encouragement to speak what’s on his mind. Buck gives in immediately. “Isn’t it a little early for people to be setting off fireworks?”

“They didn’t specify the cause of the fire,” Bobby replies.

Buck frowns. “But it’s the Fourth of July.”

“It’s also still daylight out,” Hen deadpans.

“And just because it’s the Fourth of July doesn’t mean that all fires are related to the holiday,” Chimney adds, raising his finger. “Remember last year when B shift responded to a house fire caused by a Christmas tree still up during the Fourth of July?”

“It’s what they deserve for leaving up the tree past New Year’s,” Eddie comments flatly.

Buck smiles to himself but can’t help saying, “Don’t let Eddie come over to your house if you do. Unless you want him to take the tree down for you.”

Eddie points his finger at Buck. “Next time, I’ll refuse to come over until it’s gone.” Hen raises an eyebrow at him. Eddie sighs, “Chris would leave up the tree and all the decorations year round if it meant he could get out of cleaning up. Every year he insists on putting up more decorations…”

“And every year, he forgets how much he hates packing them up again,” Buck finishes. “So Eddie gives into the puppy dog eyes until New Year’s Eve.”

Hen laughs. “Denny wishes we gave him that long, but Karen has a strict clean-up schedule two days after Christmas that no one messes with.”

“Athena’s second favorite Christmas activity is putting away all the decorations,” Bobby says with a bright smile.

“And the first?” Chimney asks.

Bobby just smiles. Buck exchanges a look with Eddie. They definitely don’t want to know.

Before anyone can press Bobby for an answer, they begin to approach the scene.

It’s a bit of chaos, but luckily they get things under control while Hen and Chimney tend to the two victims - a blonde girl and a brunette guy - who… very quickly appear to be victims of their own consequences.

As Buck and Eddie are bringing the hose back to the engine they quickly get cut off by the young blonde girl yelling, “Can you get my phone from in there?!” while desperately tugging on Buck’s arm as if she’s begging him to save her cat.

Before Buck can say anything, Athena is at his side, charred phone in hand. “I would say yes, but unfortunately, your phone is going to be placed in evidence.”

“Evidence?” The girl asks. “But we were just doing a TikTok trend!”

“A… what?” Eddie asks.

The girl rolls her eyes. “You know. All these couples are talking about how excited they are to get videos of them kissing with fireworks in the background. And we thought we would beat them to it.”

“By trespassing, setting off fireworks in a building you don’t own, and subsequently committing arson?” Athena asks in disbelief.

The girl shrugs. “It was dark enough inside for the fireworks to show up on camera, and we thought it was tall enough for the fireworks!”

Eddie glances back at the building and frowns. “It’s only two stories tall.”

“Yeah! That's more than tall enough!"

Buck, Eddie, and Athena all stare at her with varying degrees of confusion. Then, Athena shakes her head and leads her away.

Back in the engine, Buck nudges Eddie’s knee. “I was right about the fireworks.”

Eddie rolls his eyes but he can’t wipe the fond smile off his face. “I’ve never gotten that trend.”

“You know about a TikTok trend?”

Eddie shakes his head. “No. Just the whole... kissing and fireworks being compared trend.” Buck frowns at him. Eddie continues, “Like… people saying that when you kiss someone fireworks go off. Or the whole 'kissing feels electric' thing. I mean. Do people really buy into that?”

Buck’s face falls when he realizes Eddie isn’t joking. “You’ve never had a kiss like that?” Eddie shakes his head. “You’ve never had a kiss that set every nerve in your body on fire or a kiss that made you get butterflies in your stomach?”

Eddie laughs. “You watch too many romcoms, Buck.”

Buck scoffs and stares out the window for a few moments wondering what it would be like to never experience that type of rush when kissing someone. Sure. Most kisses don’t feel that way, but those with a build-up and all the long-lasting tension that finally snaps the moment you lay your lips on the other person…

“I’m going to make you experience it,” Buck blurts out.

Eddie laughs in disbelief. “What?”

“I’m going to make you experience the fireworks and butterflies and electricity and all that stuff,” Buck decides. His eyes widen as he realizes his blunder. “I-I mean. With your consent of course. I’m not just going to… lay one on you randomly. That’s… not cool. More than uncool! Like… really uncool.”

Eddie glances out the window and laughs as if that's his way of ending the conversation. But then he shrugs and says, “Okay.”

“Okay?” Buck asks.

“Why not? It’s fun to prove you wrong.”

Buck cocks his head to the side and straightens up in his seat. “And what makes you think I won’t have that effect on you?”

Eddie shrugs. “Well, given your history…”

Buck shoves him lightly before leaning over to whisper, “I’ll have you know that none of them ever complained about a lack of spark.”

“Is that so?” Eddie asks, brows slightly raised. His eyes flicker down to Buck’s lips, and Buck thinks he’s got this in the bag already.

“Why don’t you find out?”

There’s a choking noise then Ravi pleads, “Can you please at least do this out of earshot?”

Hen and Chimney complain the rest of the ride about Ravi ruining their free entertainment, and Buck only feels mildly embarrassed that he forgot there was anyone else around. Mainly, he’s relieved that it didn’t happen quite yet. After all, a build-up was required to get the necessary results.

-:-:-:-:-:-

The next few hours of the shift are - dare they say - slow. They only have to respond to one incident at a firework stand where a nasty fight broke out over some firework that turned out to be illegal in the state of California. Bobby ended up lingering around the scene for longer than needed just to provide Athena with some much-needed emotional support.

As for Buck… he’s trying to be as normal as possible. But after a heated gym session of constant longing stares between him and Eddie that caused Chimney to uncomfortably announce his departure… Buck is feeling that familiar tension. That overwhelming desire to risk every sane thought he’s ever had and instead give in to all his desires.

And yes. They have a bet going on now that Buck is very much going to win. But at what cost to him? Because after this… Buck thinks any other kiss will be ruined for him.

But he thinks it’ll be worth it to feel everything at once. Or maybe he’ll feel nothing and things don’t have to change. Luckily, he’s sure he and Eddie could get through anything - even Buck’s potentially unwanted feelings.

While the sun is still out, they only get a few calls, and Buck is grateful for the breather they get before the sun starts to set.

Only, he can’t really get his breath to even out when he’s taking every moment he can to linger in Eddie’s space for longer than necessary, eyes dipping down to settle on Eddie’s lips. Their - thankfully - uninterrupted lunch is almost unbearable because Eddie chooses to sit next to him. And of course, when Eddie gets some sauce on his lip, Buck can’t hesitate to wipe at it with his thumb. Just to sell the moment, he licks the sauce off his thumb, and he swears Eddie is about to jump him at the table.

But before anything can happen Bobby calmly says, “Please don’t make me do unnecessary paperwork today.” And Buck immediately turns red and focuses back on his food. He’s pretty sure he sees Chimney hand a ten-dollar bill to Hen, but he’s too distracted thinking about the way Eddie’s eyes had darkened.

“Buck,” Eddie says bringing him back to the current moment, hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

Buck glances around the now-empty locker area and nods. “Just preparing for tonight.”

“Are you sure this isn’t about the whole kissing thing?” Eddie asks with a small smile. Buck glances at him nervously. “Because we can call the whole thing off if you’re getting uncomfortable. But trust me. Even if you make me feel fireworks or it’s the worst kiss of my life, nothing has to change between us.”

Buck laughs loudly partially in relief. “You really have such little faith in me.”

Eddie shrugs and steps closer to him. “Maybe I’m just wondering what you’re waiting for.”

The air between them shifts and Buck wonders if Eddie can feel the tension between them and that unexplainable electricity. He thinks the way Eddie’s hand shakes as it reaches up to cup Buck’s face is an indication that he does.

Then, the bell goes off and ruins the moment.

Buck’s nose brushes against Eddie’s as they both step away only to find Chimney and Hen watching them through the glass.

“Can’t experience fireworks with them there,” Buck says dryly. Eddie laughs.

During the drive over, Buck notices the sun is starting to set. Luckily it’s only a twelve-hour shift so they only have a few hours before B shift takes over. But he still has a bad feeling.

And he’s right.

The next few hours are filled with call after call of Fourth of July related accidents. Including not one, not two, but three different couples failing to execute the TikTok trend correctly.

During one of the less serious incidents, while Hen is treating a couple with slight burns to their arms, Buck is able to grab Eddie and ask the couple for advice about the best poses for the trend. He tries each on Eddie who rolls his eyes but allows Buck to go as far as hold him in a dip.

When he catches Bobby's eye, Buck has a full speech prepared about how he’s being a professional by taking their victims' minds off the pain and keeping them entertained. He and Eddie are definitely not just engaging in public displays of affection, and Buck definitely isn't getting distracted by Eddie. But Buck doesn’t have to utter a single word because all Bobby does is give him a fond look before lecturing the couple about firework safety.

From there it's nonstop calls. Between a firework thrown in a grill, a Roman candle fight gone wrong, an allergic reaction to red face paint, and a random case of rat poisoning in a batch of brownies, Buck isn’t able to really do much about the whole kiss situation.

Well, the air between him and Eddie is heavy, and every time they have a moment to look at each other, they nearly forget where they are. But there’s no moment where the actual execution of the kiss is possible.

And before Buck knows it, the next shift comes in to relieve them, and everyone is getting changed into the clothes they came in. For once, Buck doesn’t hesitate to check Eddie out as he strips his shirt off, and Eddie takes an unnecessarily long time to put his blue Henley on - not that Buck is complaining.

Then, they’re walking out of the station together, Eddie rushing so he can get back to Chris in time to see some fireworks together.

They get to Buck’s jeep first, and Buck hesitates for a moment. His heart is practically beating out of his chest when he realizes this is the last moment today that he can really go through with things.

Eddie’s staring at him as if he’s thinking the same thing.

So, Buck takes a deep breath and says, “Who said I had to make you feel fireworks today? Maybe I need to build up to it more.”

There’s a slight look of disappointment on Eddie’s face that he quickly masks when he replies, “Yeah, man. No worries at all. Happy Fourth of July.”

“You too, man,” Buck says and climbs into his Jeep without a second thought.

He watches as Eddie walks away from him, fireworks in the distance giving him a perfect silhouette. And Buck realizes more than anything, he wants to feel those fireworks. And he needs to know if Eddie will feel them too.

“Eddie!” Buck yells as he scrambles to get out of his Jeep. “Eddie!” He yells again as he runs to Eddie just before he gets his truck door open.

Eddie drops his bag onto the ground immediately and lifts his hands to cup Buck’s face as Buck crowds him against his truck and kisses him.

There’s that feeling of the tension finally snapping. The fireworks. The electricity. The butterflies. The fire.

But Buck feels something he’s never felt before.

It feels like taking his first breath of air after being stuck in the middle of a fire. Like the first beat of his heart after stopping for three minutes and seventeen seconds. It feels like coming home.

It’s with great hesitation that Buck breaks the kiss, needing to gauge what Eddie is feeling.

Eddie just stares at him for a few moments, expression mixed with so many emotions it's nearly impossible to read. He nods and says, “Yeah, I get it now. Shit. I get it.” Then he’s pulling him in again only to break the kiss to say, “This absolutely changes things between us but in a good way, right?”

“Yes please,” Buck says with a giddy laugh.

Eddie laughs and tries to kiss him again but finds that they can’t properly kiss when they’re smiling so hard.

Later that night, they get a text in their small 118 group chat of a video from Chimney of their kiss illuminated by the fireworks going off behind them with the caption Looks like you guys won this trend.

Eddie begs him not to post it and encourage people to try to replicate it after the day they had. Buck laughs when Bobby sends them a selfie of him and Athena giving them a thumbs up while holding up paperwork. Thanks for putting off the paperwork until tomorrow.

Secretly, Buck and Eddie love the video and want to post it everywhere - with a PSA on firework safety of course. But they ultimately keep it between themselves and the rest of the 118 family because that’ll always be enough for them.

(Ao3 Link woooo)

#buddie #buddie ficlet #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 abc #911 #buck x eddie

54 notes · View notes

minniepetals · 2 years ago

Text

cry me a river | the watchers

— summary: sometimes to not protect is the best form of protection

— pairing: bts x reader

— genre: angst, mafia!au

— word count: 7.0k

— warnings: torture, arson

— PART 20 / previous post / masterpost

No one is coming to save you. Get up.

A splash of cold water and you’re awake once again. Back to reality. Back to being conscious. Reliving a loop that repeats and repeats until Nari is done having her fun and decides to finally end your life.

Your head is a mess, foggy with a pounding ache that refuses to leave. Beside you stands a man with chains holding his wrists together, sitting on a metal chair, his eyes alive and well, not a scratch on his face while he holds a glare watching you in the state you’re in.

Yoongi never did like watching people getting tortured whether they were his enemies or not.

He’s safe though, unlike you, because the Mins have been smart enough not to lay a finger on his hair, knowing if they were to return Yoongi in a state like you, Bangtan would have his head.

You admit your exes are quite scary when they’re upset, and anyone that touches any one of them would feel their wrath. You’ve witnessed it before, seen it during times when enemies would feel arrogant enough to put a hand on you. Although Namjoon is known as a calm and collected man who keeps his composure, he’s also quite possessive and overprotective. Anyone who tics him off would rather wish they went through hell and back instead.

So Junmyeon is smart in knowing not to touch Yoongi despite his initial offering in trying to please his daughter.

In the end, you’re the only one dying and getting tortured.

“Ah, I’m bored. Won’t you just kill me already?” You spit out a lump of blood from your mouth, licking at your teeth upon the dirty metal taste, and it only aggravates Nari.

You understand her.

She won’t kill you unless she’s had the pleasure of seeing you in pain and begging her for mercy, but you know better than anyone to go on your knees and beg to a wall. It’ll do you more harm than good.

“Why, why, why?!” Nari complains, her feet stomping as she clenches her hands into fists, throwing another annoying tantrum. “Why won’t you just cry?! Do you enjoy getting tortured so much?!”

“Yeah.” You chuckle in her face. “Who would have thought I was such a masochist? You should keep going, little celery.”

“Stop!!” She covers both her ears with her hands, trembling with anger, before deciding to turn to Sunoo who’s been in the room this entire time, doing the task that you’ve given him well, and pushes him forward.

He stumbles on his feet, knees hitting the floor, and for a moment Nari flinches before she puts on her brave act once again. “Hey kid, don’t you hate to see your little lady getting hurt?”

She’s switching her play once again, trying to aggravate Sunoo despite the other times she’s failed. What a smart kid, learning to read her and understanding that if he were to give her any reaction, she’d only continue hurting you even more.

“You really don’t care one bit about her?” She grabs him by the collar, dragging him on the floor to throw him right before you, forcing him up on his feet.

Sunoo meets your eyes where you stand, chains still holding you up without allowing your legs to rest one bit, and you see the way they falter for a split moment.

He wants to help, to do anything to ease the pain and have this whole thing shut down but he knows that the only way he can help is to not do anything. So Sunoo stays still even as Nari approaches you from behind, a dagger dragging up your neck and towards your face. More blood pools yet Sunoo doesn’t flinch.

Good boy.

She turns the blade to your nape, painting a scene down to your back which has the chains on you chattering loudly upon your trembling state. Your teeth clench tight, jaw ready to break as your pupils dilate, a breath wheezing out of you as Sunoo is forced to watch, his own eyes wanting to betray his facade.

You see the way his arms shake unsteadily from his side and warn him with your eyes to continue playing the act.

This is a play. You have to act the part or it’ll end.

He bites his inner cheek, hands balled into fists, but in the three seconds he takes to calm himself down, they release and the tension on his shoulders follows along. Sunoo looks away, rolling his eyes.

And Nari takes the blade from your skin.

“Why won’t any of you entertain me?!” She stomps around you, pushing Sunoo away, her eyes a murderous gaze as her grip on the hilt of the dagger clenched so tight to see veins popping. “You want to die so badly? I’ll gladly fulfill your wish, buttercup.”

The blade hovers in the air, Sunoo’s eyes widening, the light reflecting off the silver weapon, and when it comes right down before you, someone pushes her out of the way. Hard. And yet he wasn’t fast enough to push her out in time because Yoongi faces the consequence when he clutches onto his eye, blood dripping from his hand.

You stand there, frozen, as Nari screeches once again for things not going her way, and when her men make a move and Junmyeon walks in hearing her scream, your savior extends his free arm out to the side, displaying a phone with a certain number written in white.

His thumb hovers over the green call button, glaring up at them with a threat, and your brows furrow at how this came to be.

He was just chained up a few moments ago and how did he get his hand on a phone? Is that his or…

You take a look to the left just as Junmyeon follows along to find a dead man on the floor.

No way.

Yoongi’s always been a quiet man but you never expected he was this deadly. He broke out of the chains himself as well, and with both you and Sunoo on his side and the enemies on the other, perhaps he had been waiting for just the right moment to strike all along.

What a man.

You see his head tilted slightly your way and you catch the signal.

Min Yoongi, former heir to the Viper throne, doesn’t need your brain to figure out an escape route. He knows the escape route.

You give him a single nod and he clicks his thumb onto the call button, the phone immediately going into call mode, ringing up who you assume to be Namjoon. He flings it off to the side once it’s no longer useful, believing in the fact that your ex-husband will know what to do, just as the snakes come at him in full force, knowing if he’s getting Namjoon involved now, they’ll have no way out if they don’t kill him now.

While Yoongi busies himself with the enemies, Sunoo is quick to run to your side, his eyes panicking all over.

“Hey kid, think you can grab an axe and break these chains out for me?”

When one of the enemies falls to the floor with his axe sliding right before Sunoo’s feet, you give him a grin.

What great timing. It’s as if Yoongi heard you amidst the chaos he’s gotten himself into.

Little Sunoo picks the axe up with both his hands, and although it’s a bit heavy for him, you trust in him when he swings the blade right onto the pole that’s keeping you hanging. A few hits against them and the chains and you’re immediately folding onto your knees now that you’re no longer forced to stand.

Sunoo’s quick to catch you and help you with the fall when you go down.

“We have to go.” Yoongi returns to your side seconds later.

You look around the room, fascinated at the sight. Yoongi doesn’t like killing as much as the others do and yet he’s filled a whole room with bodies. His father is dead, his sister crouches in a corner, trembling uncontrollably, and you hear a hoard of footsteps and shouts closing in.

You take one look at Yoongi and immediately start fuming.

“Why the hell would you let yourself get hurt in my stead? You do realize that we’re back to being enemies now that Namjoon knows I killed his brother, right?” You punch his chest. “Are you mad?”

He observes you with confusion when you go to tear off a part of his shirt. “...You’re upset.”

“Of course I am. I hate owing anyone favors,” you say when you reach up to wrap the cloth over his bloody eye, tying it tightly behind him.

“You don’t have to owe me anything,” his voice is quiet. “This was…my apology.”

You stare at him as if he has two heads. “What? For what?”

“...You were right. We were still in love with you.” In love. Eleven years ago. When you walked out of their lives. “But we did nothing,” he continues. “We chose Namjoon and…as a result, you were left in a hard place. And I feel like, in some ways, whatever you’ve gone through in all the years after the divorce, perhaps a part of that was our fault.” He pauses. “For letting you leave.”

He has no idea.

But why is he bringing this up? Now? When your lives are about to die if he doesn’t make a move? Still, you say; “You don’t know anything.”

He nods. “I know but—”

“We’ll talk later.” You force the conversation to an end, grabbing the confused and awkward Sunoo so you can pull him into your arms. “For now, carry us,” you command and he blinks, unsure of what you’re trying to get at. “I’ve been tortured for who knows how long, I’m too weak to run. But you,” you beckon your head over at the broken chains, “you’re still strong.”

“My lady, I can run on my—”

“No, you can’t,” you immediately shut Sunoo’s suggestion down, “you’ll slow both of us down.” It’s cold but it’s the truth, and it’s the only way to get him to back off. Once you’ve dealt with him, you turn back to Yoongi, raising a brow his way, so he gets on his feet again but not before grabbing a gun from one of the dead enemies and handing it to you.

After that, Yoongi takes you in his arms where you’re holding Sunoo in yours, and he runs out of the room.

You give Nari a little scare by purposely missing when you shoot a bullet at her feet, smirking at her flinching, and once Yoongi’s out of the room and begins heading down a line of hallways you’ve never seen before, you prepare yourself by putting one arm around his neck, eyes pointed and alerted to guard his back.

Sunoo sits still in his place, not moving an inch, and when you hear footsteps approaching, you ready yourself.

Their bullets come flying past but never hit their targets. It only grazes the skin of both you and Yoongi though that doesn’t stop the two of you from doing your job.

You hold your strength, eyes blinking tightly one moment to keep your eyes from blurring up, and shooting down your enemies the next.

A headshot.

Two.

Three.

Someone stumbles and slows the crowd down on this narrow path.

“Hit that button up ahead, will you?” At Yoongi’s command, you use the long chain still wrapped around your wrist to swing it forward, hitting the red button to open up a door leading down three pathways.

Yoongi takes his pick and you keep your eyes on his back, taking down whoever is within your line of sight.

After a few more loops and turns, you come into a kitchen from a secret door, and once you’ve taken down the servants there with three bullets to each of their heads, Yoongi puts you down on a counter.

“What are you doing?” You ask when he runs to a lower cabinet, looking for something.

“Burning this place down,” he says when he picks up a red gas can and begins to pour the liquid all over the floor and toward the entrance of the secret passageway where the three of you came from.

“I never knew you were one to seek out revenge.” Whatever happened between the Vipers and him you sure weren’t good.

Nothing good comes out of being a child of a mafia leader.

“I’m not, it’s for you.”

“Me?” Your ears pick up more noise. “You’re wrong, the Vipers were never on my list.”

“Maybe not, but they did want you dead just a few minutes ago, didn’t they?”

“Well.”

No use arguing with that.

Once he’s done decorating the place with gasoline and adding a few metal cans into the microwave (deadly arsenic things, you’re sure), and has timed it for two minutes, Yoongi places a gas can in Sunoo’s lap before taking you from the counter, on the run once again.

You hear the microwave starting as you signal to Sunoo to pour the content of the gas can on the trail of Yoongi. He does so without hesitation, careful to not pour too much in one setting, all the while Yoongi leads with his run and you watch the back.

Once the can empties out, he throws it off to the side and you see your exit.

There’s a loud boom to indicate the microwave has gone off and just seconds later, the explosion and fire follow.

Yoongi bounces off on his feet, hurling the three of you onto the ground upon the impact of the fire, and you hear a loud screech ringing in your ears.

“Y/N?”

The two boys scramble to you after the initial shock, eyes staring with concern.

“I…” You hit your ear a few times, scrunching your face up. “I’m alright,” you say after a few seconds. “We have to hide though.”

So Yoongi picks you up once again, this time without Sunoo, and the little one follows closely behind when the man runs off.

You aren’t sure how long it takes them to find a good alleyway where Yoongi’s sure is safe, but you don’t have the energy to think when he places you down against the dirty ground. You lean against the wall from behind, breathing quickening when you finally have the chance to catch up to the torture your body had to endure.

“Just how long will Namjoon take?” You ask through clenched teeth.

“The manor’s an hour away.”

You let out a curse and Yoongi hurries to rip a piece of cloth off his shirt and wrap it over your torso in the same way you had done for his eye. He ties it more tightly, applying great pressure while you’re bleeding out, right before he wipes his hands of blood on his pants to take out a few greens.

“Run to the nearest drugstore. Find anything useful,” he tells Sunoo with a small wipe over the boy’s cheek, ridding off the blood there.

Sunoo doesn’t hesitate to obey.

“You’ve got a good soldier there.” Once he’s gone, Yoongi turns back to you to pay attention to your needs. “Have you been training the kids? I thought you didn’t want them involved.” He grabs ahold of a hand, inserting a thin piece of needling into the lock of the chain still wrapped around your wrist.

“I don’t,” you reconfirm his thoughts, “though I admit the kid did great not giving into Nari’s ploy despite it tearing him apart.” You take your time breathing in and out before speaking again. “Why have you kept all of it a secret?”

“My involvement with those snakes?” You don’t have to answer him for him to understand just what you mean. “I didn’t lie entirely about my past.”

“No. You’re not one to lie.” The chain releases from one hand and you breathe in a harsh breath of air upon the stinging sensation of your wrist. Yoongi moves onto the other one. “You were indeed someone who ran away, but who would have thought it was the Vipers you ran away from. Who would have thought you were a secret heir.”

He keeps silent for a moment. “You saw it yourself,” he says, “Nari’s adored by Junmyeon.” He doesn’t call him by father, you notice. “Ever since she was born, he spoiled her to no end, all the while his first son was neglected and left to waste.” Your father would have killed to have his firstborn a son. “I did all that I could to get his attention but in the end, it was futile.”

“So you ran away?”

He chuckles at that but shakes his head. “I simply gave up and blended into the shadows like how he wanted me to. Nobody acknowledged my presence and that’s when I left. They never cared to search for me. All their attention was on Nari.”

“Did you resent her?” You ask and he shakes his head once again.

It makes sense. Yoongi isn’t one to hate anyone.

“I played my role as the older brother, I protected her from harm and got her the things she wanted. The scar on my back was from me protecting her on the night the two of us were kidnapped by an enemy.”

“You sure love to jump in front of a blade, don’t you?”

He ignores your comment. “Nari was always greedy for more. She wanted the world.”

“Of course she did, that’s just who she is.” You adjust yourself on the wall, trying your best to not let it touch the blade trails from Nari. Everything hurts and stings and aches. “So why didn’t you tell them?” You ask, looking up at him. “They wouldn’t have cared.”

Every one of the boys went through something after all, so why did Yoongi feel the need to keep his connection to the Vipers a secret?

“Bangtan were enemies with Vipers back then,” he explains, a bitter smile resting on his face. “Namjoon saved me, as I told you. He picked up a discarded trash and raised it. If I had told him then that I was the son of his enemy, you think he would have allowed me to stay? Much less save me?”

“You think he would care now?”

It’s a question he knows the answer to, and yet something has still stopped him from giving his truth to them. Perhaps it’s his fear of the uncertain, because despite how much he knows the boys care for him, perhaps Namjoon would see it as a betrayal.

Yet he’s given his life unto him, even chose him when he had to choose between him and you.

Namjoon wouldn’t care now. No, he wouldn’t. And yet telling the truth has never been easy.

“What about you?” He turns the questions to you. “What’s your relationship with the Vipers?”

You chuckle at the changing of the subject but let it be for now. It’s not as if he owes you any answer. “Nari hated my pretty face,” you say simply. “Why do you think I’ve been beaten up so bad my face is a mess?”

“You’re still..-” Yoongi stops himself from finishing the sentence and you raise a brow, thinking you know just what he was automatically trying to say, but Sunoo returns just in time.

“I’d say between the time I called and our escape to here, it should be around half an hour or so.” He takes the plastic bag from Sunoo who takes a seat beside you, concern written all over his tiny face so you place a hand on his head, reassuring him. “Knowing them, they’re probably speeding down as we speak so they should be here soon but for now, keep conscious. Kid, talk to her so she won’t pass out.”

He takes something out.

Medicine, supplies, bandages.

“You’ll be alright, my lady.”

Perhaps it’s the fact that you know help will arrive soon so your body is catching up to the long-needed rest that’s coming. You feel each blink you take slowing down even as the treatment Yoongi is beginning on you should sting.

“Keep conscious, Y/N,” he warns with furrowed brows, and you watch the way he rips your sleeves to tend to the knife cuts there. Your heart rate picks up and you’re immediately alerted as you suddenly move to grab ahold of his hand, stopping him from doing anything more. Yoongi persists. “You need to—”

“Don’t let them touch me,” you say quickly. Quietly. “I don’t trust anyone, Yoongi, I’m only letting you do this because I know you’d rather have someone else kill a body than do it yourself, and in those three years I knew you, you’re not the type to caress another so easily, but don’t let anyone touch me. Don’t.”

When you look him dead in the eyes while using the last of your strength to grip his hand so tight it hurts you, Yoongi knows not to take your request lightly.

“O..okay.”

Only after you hear the promise leaving his mouth do you finally let your consciousness slip away.

It’s funny how you still hold onto his words.

Every once in a while, Yoongi will glance at where you’re lying against the wall with Sunoo by your side, while he keeps his eyes steady on the street, keeping an eye out for any familiar vehicles.

His feet jumps up and down consistently, feeling anxious as every second pass by. The longer this takes, the harder it will be on you, and even he himself can feel the fatigue trying to catch up on him.

The good eye he has left shakes, trying to keep clear, despite the ever so often images of flashes of blur, his legs threatening to give in.

Only when he finds a black van that rushes down the street to where the old mansion of the Viper lies, burning still, does he finally feel some sense of relief.

“Sunoo.” He turns to the kid, quick, and when Sunoo runs to his side, Yoongi points at where Namjoon walks out of a vehicle, standing a few yards away from the fire, observing with pointed eyes so as to not draw attention to the crowd that had gathered around.

There are sirens all around and Sunoo will have to run a good amount but someone has to stay with you and he can’t, not with his injured eye. Someone will catch sight of him and he can’t get in trouble with the law enforcement.

“Run to that man. Tell him you know where Yoongi is.” He makes sure the kid looks presentable, fixing his ruffled hair, wiping the dirt from his cheek, and cleaning down his clothes with his hands. There’s some blood on his clothes from where he was held by you but there’s not much he can do about that. “Be careful. Be discreet, don’t let the police see you. If they do, they’re going to question you and we don’t want that. You want your lady to get out of here safe and sound, don’t you?”

Sunoo nods and runs off and Yoongi takes a moment to look back at where you sit, just to make sure you’re still there, before watching the kid run over to where the fire is, now dying down. The Vipers aren’t completely destroyed, but with the death of their leader and heir now dead, nothing can be done to have them raise up to power again.

Not unless the living subordinates turn to him.

But he scoffs at the idea, knowing he’d never put himself in a position where he’ll rule a gang, much less his father’s mafia. They’ve abandoned him so why should he feel responsible to pick them up when they’re down?

He’s no longer associated with them, not since the moment he decided to run away.

All is dead and gone, and he knows you’ll make sure the members who’re still alive won’t continue that way once you’re awake.

They did kidnap you after all, and who can ever forgive that?

“Yoongi!”

His head perks up at the call and before he can register it, Namjoon’s body is slamming against him in a tight hold as if all those moments he’s been away from them have been the most horrifying thing he’s ever gone through.

They’ve never been good at dealing with one of them out of their sight after all, not that Yoongi can blame them. He’s just the same. So he welcomes the hold, feeling more arms coming around his other sides, and when the leader presses his hands onto his face, his eyes are quick to turn from that worried stare to a deadly glint.

“I’ll kill him,” his voice lowers.

“It’s alright, I’ve already done it.”

“What happened to you? How-”

“Before that,” he cuts Jungkook off to turn to the dark alleyway where you still lie, and rush over to your side without concern for his eye. “We have to get Y/N help. Now.”

The first reaction was initial confusion, before their brows furrow in recognition of the face of the woman they once loved years ago, lying against a wall all battered up and beaten, still holding onto life.

Barely.

Yoongi takes you in his arms, careful to not hurt you too much, and Taehyung tries to stop him. “What’re you doing? You’re still hurt, let someone else—”

“No,” he says, voice so formidable that declaration alone is something he isn’t willing to back down for anyone. The six of them stare at him with confusion, shocked at this quiet man who doesn’t usually talk back. And when Yoongi adjusts you even closer to him with such a careful approach, it takes them back even more. “Don’t you remember back in London? When she broke down mad the last time we saw her? She’s afraid of strangers touching her. Men.”

Yoongi’s right.

They’ve seen it with their own eyes how much a touch can affect you, trigger you, but it doesn’t clear them of suspicion on why you’re in this mess in the first place and why Yoongi is the one taking care of you.

“What about you?” Jimin asks. “She ran away from us too.”

“We were kidnapped together and even though she’s still frightened, she’s given me a bit of trust and it’s my job to make sure I can fulfill that trust.” He picks you up and walks over to the vehicle that finally slid up. “I owe her that much, don’t I?”

No one can refute that and so they let him go, before silently following along.

Sunoo who had stood aside, silent as he watched over everything, hesitates when they all climb in behind Yoongi, his eyes shaking, hands trembling by his side, unsure of what to do until Hoseok, who was the last in line, crouches down in front of him.

“What’re you doing, kid? We can’t leave you alone here now can we?” He says, a hand coming over to ruffle his hair. He recognizes the little boy who had been amongst the crowd of kids you saved the night you went after Jummy and Ying. “Frightened, were you? It’s alright now, we’ll get your dear lady to safety.”

“Will she be alright?” His voice breaks a little, knowing now that it’s alright to let a bit of that brave face off his facade. “I…I watched her…and…and I couldn’t do anything.”

What a ruthless world for a child to grow up in.

He was forced to watch the very person who saved him getting hurt and beaten, and catching a brief moment of what you looked like in Yoongi’s arms, Hoseok knows that must not have been easy to watch. Not for a child. Not for him.

He doesn’t know what to say so he takes the kid’s hand and they climb into the van together.

The whole ride, after Namjoon phones Mingyu to let him know you were with them, is silent to the max. There are a lot of questions Yoongi knows they wish to ask. For example, why was he kidnapped? Why was it the Vipers? What sort of relationship did he have with them and why hadn’t they know anything? There were always chances of someone in the group getting harmed by previous abusers but they’ve all been dealt with, Namjoon took care of all of them, yet Yoongi has been the only one who never spoke on anyone who could be out for him.

For all they knew, he didn’t have anyone in particular. For all they knew, he was just a poor little kid who needed the world to treat him better.

So why the Vipers?

And why were you kidnapped as well? They can excuse whatever your story is because it isn’t much of their business to know every little detail about you, but Yoongi? They’ve known him almost their entire life and yet this one detail he failed to share with him was the very reason they couldn’t find him.

And if he was kidnapped, wouldn’t that mean getting more injuries than he’s showing right now?

The bloody eye is bad but compared to the knife trails and gash marks and wounds cutting so deep they still bleed out almost everywhere, Yoongi’s treatment by the Vipers was clearly much better than yours.

They have many questions to ask him but knowing the number one priority is to get you to safety, they keep silent for the moment.

You’re rushed into a small hospital under Bangtan, and while Yoongi needs to prioritize his eye, he makes sure to be there when you’re brought into the surgery room and tells everyone off so they don’t touch you.

You need help, he knows. He knows it more than anyone really, because for a lot of the torture you went through, he saw it with his very own eyes, and yet the fact that you trusted him enough to fall asleep before his eyes and let him touch you, Yoongi knows not to betray that trust.

He can’t.

So Namjoon allows his people to back off, and the seconds tick by once more while they wait for your crew to arrive.

Yoongi makes sure to follow procedures that’ll help you ease a bit, to slow down your time under the doctors’ instructions, and it’s in this moment do the boys come to see the rare times Yoongi stops allowing himself to blend into the background and do something. He usually keeps himself invisible, quiet, off to the side, keeping his expression at a standstill so no one who doesn’t know him well would be able to tell what’s on his mind.

This Yoongi panics. This Yoongi doesn’t know what expressionless means.

This Yoongi fears.

Only when Mingyu shows up do they finally convince him to get himself treated.

He sits in the room across the emergency room with Hoseok and Seokjin standing off to the side, getting treated by a doctor of their own, while the rest of them stand around outside, waiting for the hours that they know it’ll take to treat you.

Yuna, your blind warrior, sits on the floor of the hospital, her arms hugging her knees with anxiety rocking her body back and forth. She doesn’t say a word but everyone can hear the little sniffles she does ever so often.

She’s like a child waiting on the news of her mother’s accident and everyone knows if it’s bad news, she won’t take it well.

Yeonjun has a book in hand while he sits on a chair beside her, eyes scanning the text though no pages flip no matter how much time has passed.

“I’m sorry,” little Sunoo says when Mingyu crouches down to his level, finally allowing himself to shed the tears he’s been unable to shed in a room full of strangers. “I’m so sorry,” he tells your right hand man, fists knuckle white when he clutches onto his blazer. “I couldn’t protect her.”

Such little shoulders carrying a heavy weight. He worries more about your wellbeing than his own, than the fact that he had to see a whole building catching on fire with people still inside, hear gunshots and people dying, being held at gunpoint, the fact that he could have died and he worries only for you.

Mingyu places a hand on those shoulders, shaking his head. “No one will blame you for that, Sunoo. Not even boss.”

“You don’t understand, I…” He pauses to catch his voice that threatens to bury down the lump in his throat. “Do you remember what you told me when my lady finally completed her rescue plan? When I told you I wanted to be a Reaper?” How can Mingyu forget? “You told me I had to first learn how to manipulate my feelings, that I had to hide them well, and that I needed to learn how to restrain myself during times that’ll force me to act against my will. You told me I had to be a good bystander first and initially, I couldn’t figure out what you meant. Being a good bystander? It..”

More tears fall down those precious eyes, trailing down his cheeks, hanging onto his chin before they inevitably fall to the floor. “I understand now,” his voice breaks. “I know…I know what it means and I…I never want to do it ever again.” His feelings overwhelm him so much he’s unable to stand on his two feet. Sunoo’s knees buckle underneath him and it meets the floor yet he continues to speak. “Lady Y/N was hurting and she…she was chained up and she couldn’t even sit. They forced her to stand the whole time they tortured her. She screamed and…and yet she laughed when that evil lady taunted her and every time I wanted to give up, to yell at the lady to stop, Lady Y/N always warned me not to. It was like she was saying…as if she was saying ‘It’s alright. It’s alright, I can take this. Just play your part, just pretend you don’t care about me, and I’ll be alright.’”

“You must never show them you care. Father will have you dead and I will pay more of the consequences.”

“If you stay silent, it will hurt less.”

“Do not move even a muscle when they hurt me. Do not stand in father’s way or our whole secret will be blown and none of us will survive.”

“This is the only way we can live.”

Yuna’s eyes lost.

Yuna’s eyes are lost.

Yuna.

Yunayunayuna.

Nakyum.

You reminded them constantly of what could happen to them were the truth to be revealed due to a mishap, due to their carelessness. Sunoo had to go through days watching you hurt, the Reapers spent years in silence. Watching.

And no day was easier than the other. There was not a day they wanted to step in, to defend you, to take the whips and blades and all the torture tools from the hands of your perpetrators and shove it up their asses, doing the same they’ve done to you. There was not a day Mingyu wanted to smash his fists onto their faces until they were dead. No, he’d continue even after they were dead.

There was not a day they wanted the revolt to happen so soon.

The day after?

“No,” you’d say. “Be patient. Hold on.”

But they didn’t want to hold on, they didn’t want to see more of you having to go through all those pains and agony and yet they had to. If they wanted to save you, if they wanted you to live, they had to.

They had to stay silent.

They had to watch.

They had to do nothing.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect her,” Sunoo says.

“I wish I can protect her,” Yuna screams. “Why can’t I protect her?!”

“You know why.”

“You did well.” Mingyu squeezes his shoulders tight, lips pressed into a thin line. “You not protecting her protected her. You did well.” He places a hand behind his head, pressing him into an embrace and the kid cries and cries, his screams buried against Mingyu’s chest. “You did well,” Mingyu repeats. “They would have hurt her more if you had done something so you did well. You did so, so well.”

No one ever told them that but the Reapers know that they, too, had done well.

Everyone in the room knows just what Mingyu means when he said not protecting meant protecting because they’ve all been through it. Namjoon has the power to never go through such things ever again but he’s seen it time after time when he was younger.

Those days his brother still lived with him — still lived — with their abusive father, both of them unable to do a thing but watch when one would get hurt. Those days when times were rougher, when his brother left for a mission and his close subordinates had to keep still and not go against his father when he was hurt otherwise they’d die. Those days when he was powerless.

“Save me,” you begged Seokjin in a moment of madness.

So broken but so full of life before it all disappeared within a split second, turning dull and lifeless like a corpse inside a living body.

You’ve never uttered that in your entire life, have you? He’s sure you haven’t, not with the way you are. Even the you then was stubborn to call for help because she was too insecure, too hesitant and always overthought everything, walls built so high even the people she loved were unable to break through.

You were too broken to ask for help and they’ve been too dumb to realize it until now.

“Save me.”

Seokjin can never forget that day, he can never forget the way you froze when he held you, trying to reel you back into reality after your initial explosion. The way you shakily reached out for him, bloody hands dirtying his white button-up shirt, and looked up at him as if he was the only one you could trust in that moment.

Perhaps a memory flashed into your mind then, perhaps you remembered the way he used to care for you, the way he used to be the one to ground you when you broke down and were having panic attacks. He held onto you when the two of you still loved and you looked for him to calm down, to settle back into the peace he’d always give you when you saw him. He’d be the fastest to help you escape from those nightmares and return you from where your mind would go.

He’d sing lullabies to help you sleep and you’d rely on him the most when it came to nightmares because Seokjin was an insomniac. He didn’t sleep. So during times when you’d awake from a nightmare or needed someone to pull you out of it, it was Seokjin that was always there.

Perhaps in your moment of weakness, you remembered those times and perhaps that’s why you turned to him. That’s why you asked him to save you.

But he knows that right now, you’d get upset if he were to bring it up and take responsibility for you uttering those words to him. The things you’ve gone through after you left them, after the divorce with Namjoon, are things he can only imagine in his head. Seokjin has gone through his fair share of trauma and one traumatic patient can see it in another who wants to hide it well.

You’ve been through stuff, horrible stuff, with Daejung, Ying, Jummy, Leehyung, and so many more on your list. At first, he thought you taking over the throne of your father was just an act of rebellion, but through the times he’s spent with you, he realizes, as do the rest of the members, that the people on your hit-list, the people you’re going after, are only the people that have done you wrong.

Seokjin should have known that someone who was as kind and gentle as you were all those years ago couldn’t have just changed without reason. No one changes that drastically without reason.

But it’s clear as day to all of them that you’d rather they rot in hell than find out the truth to those reasons. That’s why Namjoon refuses to investigate anything involving you and that’s why they’ve all agreed that it’s best to simply leave it at that.

Namjoon wants to know more than anyone what happened to his brother but if finding out about him means knowing more about you, then he’d rather wait and let you tell him instead. Because through their experience, they know more than anyone that figuring out the truth of something when it’s unwanted will only hurt that person, and as much as Namjoon felt infuriated with you at first, he understands.

They all do.

And you would hate them more than you do now if they were to figure out something you’ve been keeping a secret your entire life. No one should ever force an answer out of anyone, and they know that because of your silence, they do not deserve to know.

So until you can trust them, if it ever comes to that point, they will remain ignorant to the fact on purpose. Because why find out when there is no reason to?

Seokjin can’t be your anchor, he won’t, because you no longer trust him enough to even touch you. You’re scared of the world, the whole world, and the only one who can now calm you down as fast as he had done then, is Mingyu, your second in command.

For now, his role is to only stand to the side and watch. Though he knows watching in itself is something you won’t allow him to do. You won’t let him see your weaknesses anymore, you won’t let him near, and you won’t ask him for help.

And all of that is entirely his fault.

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heyidkyay · 9 months ago

Text

10 Things Y/n Can't Live Without | GQ

Got to watching Matty's old one of these and just decided to try and write one for reader, it's silly and short but if it might be something you're into then I hope you enjoy x

“Hi GQ, I’m Y/n, and you might’ve heard a couple of my songs if you’re stuck watching this- if not, then boo, you suck.”

She pauses, thinking on it, then winces slightly and looks straight past the cameras at one of the shoot’s directors.

“Can I say that? Is that too mean?” Before anyone can actually answer though, she waves a hand, “Ah fuck it, I don’t care. If Matty can act like a twat on his one, then so can I.” She bears a giant grin and then the lens closes in, switching from frame to frame to capture the few items she’s brought in.

“Why are you here then today?”

She blinks and then exaggerates her eyes at the sudden reminder, “Not even five minutes in and I’ve already messed this up. But yeah, sorry! Today, I’ve brought in my ten essential items, and I guess you’re wanting to see them.”

Wiggling her fingers, the scene then changes.

1 - “A Lighter.”

She hums in reply to the voice, looking down at the item and then back up again. “I bet, like, if you had Harry Styles on here, his first thing would be something really nice and lovely, like Emma by Jane Austen. Seems the type, right?”

Scratches her nose in thought, “But no, you’ve just got me.”

“And what a privilege it is.”

She laughs and gives a mock bow.

“Anyway, yeah.” She continues on, fiddling with the clunky silver antique in her hand, “Not much to say about it, really. If you need a light, I’m your gal. Always prepped for arson or the odd joint.”

“Okay, probably shouldn’t say that.”

“Right, yeah ‘course, sorry. Um, don’t smoke weed then, kids?” She points at the camera with a mocking salute before the scene then changes again and she’s asked to flick open the lighter for a different shot.

There’s a click and then the flame dies.

2 - A ziplock bag sits on top of the table. A basic run of the mill seal-again with a fading Tesco’s branded on one side.

“Ah, this is probably my most prized possession, I reckon.” Her eyes dance under the studio lights and a few chuckles can be heard from behind the camera.

“What are we looking at here?”

She drags the plastic baggy in closer and unzips it, taking a sniff of the strong scent that escapes. “Tea bags.”

“Tea bags? What kind?”

“Yorkshire through and through. Here in the states it’s so hard to find even a basic PG pyramid, let alone one of these babies.” She cradles it close to her chest, “Honestly would kill for a brew right now. But these things help me whenever I get a little too homesick- both on tour and when I’m just travelling.”

“Very lovely.”

“Very British.” She corrects with a wide grin.

3 - “I honestly want to meet the person who first invented headphones, because? Wow. What a man.” She sighs, almost reverently, opening up the AirPods case she holds with a single hand, one which seems to be covered in tiny stickers and a difficult to read engraving.

“Reckon they had to have been the world's biggest introvert at the time. I mean, just imagine shoving shit into your ears trying to escape the idiots sat ‘round you, but then doing one better and deciding that you’d much rather prefer to listen to something sick.”

“How are they essential to you?”

“It'll sound dramatic. But I actually feel like I’d be lost without them? In a sad way. They let me disconnect when I need to, and with a job like mine that’s really hard to do at times.”

“And the last song you listened to?”

She smirks, eyes squinting at the question as she glances into camera one. “A demo.”

“One of yours?”

She merely laughs, and the joyful sound of it echoing around the studio space. “No, I wish! We’ll be waiting on that one for a while longer still.”

4 - The next item is slid into shot.

“Ah, my phone.” She clutches it in one hand but looks down at it, almost saddened.

“It feels so stupid to say it’s an essential, because I miss the old days when we were all forced to go outside and knock about. But it really is. It has everything I need to keep me safe stored on there and also keeps me updated on things happening back home, just stuff like that. Plus, it really helps to keep my brain occupied on long flights and during meetings. So there’s always an upside.”

“What kind of case do you have on it?”

Her nose wrinkles as she glances down at the battered protecting she’s had since she first got the phone, and hums, “Just one of them hardshell ones- that what they're called? But yeah, it was a present- very much me, or so I’ve been told- and I was grateful for it. It’s scratched to bits now though, but my screen has yet to break!”

She winces, “I say that, but that’s it now. The next time it drops it’ll shatter, won’t it?”

5 - We watch as she sits a clunky old disposable before herself. It’s black and yellow, and slightly scuffed, but looks very well loved.

“Pretty self-explanatory. Just a camera, I take pictures, these things pair well together.” She turns it on and an unexpected flash goes off, “The price to print film is fucking extortionate though. So, don’t expect a copy of that.” She chuckles, alongside a couple of the camera crew and then slides the camera further down the table.

“If anyone were to get hold of it though, they’d have a proper field day- but alas, what happens on tour, stays on tour.”

6 - The next item is one she toys with for a long moment, looking down at its yellowed pages before settling it down gently before her so that the camera can get a close up.

“A novel?”

She shakes her head, wearing the beginnings of a fond smile.

“No, this little beauty is my first child.” She states, splaying a hand over the cover of a leatherbound journal. Which earns her a few raised brows that she just laughs at before picking the thing up to flick through. “It is! But it’s also your quintessential songbook. Packed full of stories and lyrics and messy scrawl. I’ve got things sellotaped in there too, just as reminders or for when I lack inspiration.”

“What sort of things?”

With a hum, she thinks about it. “Bottlecaps? Um, a couple polaroids... Think there’s a seashell or two in there as well, from the time I was visiting a friend of mine in Barbados. So yeah, I’ve had it for years, just keep adding pages in. Need a new one though. Desperately.”

“Can we have a look inside?”

She peers down the book, hands cradling it almost protectively now, then chews on her lower lip.

“You can say no.”

Her eyes dart upwards again, “No, you’re all good. It’s just personal, you know? But yeah, I can show you the first page or so.”

Slipping off the elastic binding it altogether, the book practically bursts open on its own. She’s quick to flick to the very first page, which sports a couple of film pictures as well as the odd sticker, but is mainly just filled with miniscule scribbles.

The camera zooms in for a closer shot.

“So, all the doodles and wobbly words are just from friends or other writers I’ve worked with.” She points to a little drawing of a t-rex in the corner, “This here, was my mate George’s work. He’s vandalised quite a bit of this book, I can’t lie. But we’ve known each other for ages, and he’s produced and worked on most of my music.”

Then she trails her finger lower and across a couple of names, “There, Lewis Capaldi wrote that I’ve got a great arse, and then Noel Gallager graced a corner with his scribbled signature- still aiming to get Liam’s somehow. But I’m working on it.”

She peers a little closer, looking for another story or detail to mention, “Oh, down here you can see a bit of blood! Like two or three splatters that stain the page.” She grins wickedly and glances back up at the camera, “That was from a time I tagged along to a Bring Me The Horizon tour, way back when. Oli sliced his hand on a guitar string and it was a proper mess. Bit mad looking back on it actually.

“What can you tell us about that main photo?”

She practically beams at the question, her gaze immediately shooting back towards the picture sat in the page’s very centre. It’s square and has its own doodled frame.

“That’s me and a couple of very good friends of mine. Bit of a difficult picture to make out, but only because it was taken with a flash and it’s about a decade old now.” She relays, dropping the notebook down on her forearm so that the camera guy can get a better look. “That’s Hann and Ross, and there’s G’s big smile. My oldest mate, Vin, is the idiot leaning over the shoulder of my cousin, Lol, in that very top corner, and then at the bottom there is Matty and I.”

“Very cosy.”

She smirks.

7 - “Number seven, what have you got for us?”

She huffs around an amused smile, “Do you know how hard it was to think of ten items? Like, if I was back home I’d’ve probably brought my mum’s dog along- or my settee. But I’m not, so I got stuck and as I was thinking about it I figured that these had to be an essential of mine. ‘Cause when I’m with the guys I’m sort of known for always having some sort of sweet treat on me.”

A pack of Haribo is placed down onto the table, alongside a red and yellow wrapped lollipop and a single bar of chocolate.

“So, you lot haven’t got any Tangfastics here- which is, I can’t even begin to fathom how you survive. Someone start a petition, please. But anyway, instead I’ve got these Zing things? Which are similar but not as good, no hate! Just the truth.”

She shrugs gently before opening the packet up and nicking one, then offers the rest of the packet outwards, smiling as a few step forward.

“These two… these are from back home.” She claims as she drags the remaining two items nearer, “The lolly is a drumstick, don’t know if you have them here, or have even heard of them, but we typically get them in mixed or party bags back home. They’re a favourite, but I reckon that’s just mainly down to my mum’s love of them. And then this,” She moves swiftly on, twirling a wrapped chocolate bar between her fingers whilst she smiles, “This is one item I can't live without. They’re the messiest things, but taste so fucking good.”

“What’s it called?”

“A flake? Usually we get them on a 99, but they do them in multipacks and in like your local.”

“A 99?”

Her eyes widen theatrically before she drops her head into her hands, “I can’t do this today. Do you really not know what I’m on about?”

8 - A blue passport is chucked up in the air and she almost topples out of her chair to catch it.

“Ha!” She grins, waving the thing about smugly before dropping it down again. “This felt so stupid to include, but I couldn’t not. I need this for most places I go; hotels, airports… sometimes even a club if I’ve forgotten or lost my ID. But yeah, I couldn't just show you a pack of Haribo and then not include my passport.”

9 - A clinking breaks up the quiet filming they’ve been wrapped up in as they move onto the next item.

“House keys!” She exclaims happily, rattling the horde of keys she now carries.

“To how many houses?”

She rolls her eyes, not unkindly, and then smiles, wrapping the keys up in between her palms. “Three. But don’t worry, they’re not all mine!” She feels the ridiculous need to make known, but she only receives a few curious glances in return.

Taking the first set between her forefinger and thumb, a silver key and brass chub, she shows them off to the camera lens, “These are to my mum and dad’s house, they let me in through the front door whenever I want. Although I guess they're more so for emergencies, ‘cause I still like to knock when I turn up.” She shrugs a single shoulder, swiping through the keys again, “Also have the one to their garage on here somewhere as well- see, it’s that small one right there.”

Next, she dangles a single fob key and another silver cut in view. “These are mine. They let me past the front gate and the other one opens the majority of whatever else. Probably shouldn't be letting the world know that.” She snorts, but ultimately shrugs before moving onto the last of the three.

“And these,” She says as she rattles the chain to reveal a rather large horde of other keys, “Are to my very first flat. I shared it with a mate at first then things evolved and changed, so we moved onto something bigger.”

“Why do you keep them?”

“Why not?” She quips, grinning down at the set, “I mean, they hold a lot of sentimental value to me. Not just in the sense that they belonged to my very first place, but the memories I made there.”

She smiles back up at the camera a second later, now holding a little lego person that had been dangling from one of the many rings, “And there’s this little guy, too. Never had the heart to get rid of him or separate him from the others, so he just stays there. He’s beyond recognition now and definitely seen some shit, I can’t lie- actually, you can barely even make out his face or the shirt he’s wearing. See?”

She holds the yellow figure further outwards. She’s right about how disfigured the thing is, but there’s a slight mohawk to be seen and a faded outline of what once would’ve been its shirt.

“Can you remember where it came from?”

“‘Course! A friend, at the time, gave it to me. I got proper jealous of the one he’d been given at some wedding or other, like, just loved playing with it whenever we were driving and stuff. I did end up forgetting I had them at times though, so he got me one of my own just so that he could finally have his keys back.”

Her laughter is contagious, and she looks to be caught up in the memory of it.

10 - “I haven’t really got a tenth one!”

Her claim is met with quiet protests to which she mirthfully shakes her head at, “Honest! I was really stressing about it on the way over here.” She chuckles before tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Have you got a special mention then? Something you’d like to claim your tenth spot?”

She gives a wily little smile, as though she’s just thought of something but can’t say it. “I do.”

A silence settles, and they’re waiting for her to continue on so they can wrap up the shoot, but she doesn’t say anything.

“Well?” One of the directors asks with an intrigued chuckle, wanting to know now.

That smirk of hers doesn’t dim and so she just shrugs, “I can’t say, but they’ll know. And they’ll be so miffed they didn’t think of it first.” She almost cackles at the thought but just shakes her head instead, grinning away happily.

“They?”

“Uhuh,” She agrees and then sits up further in her chair, a sudden realisation hitting her, “You know what? I think this essentially is my ‘get away’ bag.”

“Pretty sure Matty said something of a similar degree.”

A scowl etches into her features at that and she rolls her eyes, “Oh my God. He’s such a copycat-”

…

“You have your ten essentials now.”

“I do! I have my ten essentials.” She smiles into the lens, eyes skimming over the people laid out beyond it, “Honestly thank you all so much for having me, this has actually been pretty fun. Like, sort of got to go down memory lane and whatnot.”

“Glad to have had you.”

“So, I guess the question now is, who’s on next?”

Comments:

@/user actually obsessed w her @/user so many questions 😭😭 @/user Swear I’ve seen that lighter before ⤷ @/user :link to an old instagram picture on @/the1975 account: @/user anyone see what was engraved on the airpods case? @/user A demo?? I swear if it’s one of the bands I’ll sob. @/user HER SONGBOOK. THAT PICTURE. THE FACT THAT SHE HAS OLI’S DNA JUST ON HAND ⤷ @/user They’re so cute. It hurts. @/user i want Lewis to look at my ass:/ @/user George’s lil dino kills me off 😭 @/user ‘What happens on tour, stays on tour.’ WHAT HAPPENS ON TOUR Y/N? ⤷ @/user THE WAY SHE JUST SMIRKS TOO @/user What this video’s taught me, if you need an arson accomplice yn is your gal x @/user The lego man’s shirt!! Definitely a box there. ⤷ @/user And the mohawk too?? Dead giveaway. @/user Her tenth has got to be Matty no? @/user THE WHOLE HOUSE KEYS BIT? WHAT?? Didn’t she share a flat with Matty at one point? ⤷ @/user No, they did. But also “..things evolved and changed, so we moved onto something bigger.” So WE moved… WE 🙂 ⤷⤷ @/user We’re really just skipping over “a friend, at the time” then.. Okay! @/user 6:12 That bit at the end?! They?? This has to be about Matty, right? He’s the only one who’s been on before! @/user Have they always been together? This has me so confused rn 😭 ⤷ @/user Welcome to the club lovely!:) ⤷⤷ @/user At this point I’m actually scared we’ll never know ngl ⤷⤷⤷ @/user They are my roman empire @/user Can we get one of the Derry Girls on please! It’s not a want, but a need.

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vanillaxoshi · 4 months ago

Note

Boboiboy Elementals Seperated - Incorrect Quotes I found on the generator edition

*The Kokotiam is about to do something dangerous*  Ying: Shouldn’t someone give a pep talk?  Fang: Go ahead.  Boboiboy: Be careful.  Qually: Don’t die? Yaya: I think we’ll be fine! Gopal: Great. We’re all very inspired.

Gopal: Hey Person C, can you give me the opposite of these words?  Gopal: Always, Coming, From, Take, Me, Down.  Solar: Never, Going, To, Give, You-  Solar: The fucking satisfaction.

Kira’na, to Gempa and Ais:*holding the Voltra sword out in front of them* Are you or are you not an enemy of the people?!  Ais: ...  Gempa: ...  Ais: That is such an open-ended question.  Gempa: It really depends on a lot of different factors-

Adudu: You wanna fight?! You got one!  Boboiboy: Okay! *raises fists*  *Halilintar runs in, scoops Boboiboy up in their arms, and runs away carrying him*  Adudu:

Adudu: What

Doctor: How the hell are you still alive?  Boboiboy: Honestly, I’m just as confused as you are.

Blaze, trying to comfort Boboiboy: What's the problem? Anxiety? Low self-esteem? Obsessive thoughts of random arson? I've been there.

Yaya: An apple a day keeps the doctor away!  Duri: An apple a day can keep anyone away if you throw it hard enough!

Blaze: I have an idea.  Boboiboy: A good idea?  Blaze: Let's not get ahead of ourselves.

Gempa: I’d like to live through a week that’s not a whole new verse of “We Didn’t Start the Fire.”

Halilintar: I’ve come to a point in my life where I need a stronger word than fuck.

Gempa: Everyone, calm down! We're grown-ups, let's deal with this like adults!  Taufan: So, we're just going to wing it and hope for the best?  Gempa: Obviously. Now, Duri, pass the shovel.

Fang: When's the last time you slept?  Solar: Uh... a few days ago, I think.  Fang: A few- how many? Solar: Uh... *starts counting on fingers* I need more fingers...  Fang: What you need is sleep!

Duri: “I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy” I would. Blaze: “I’m not gonna sink to their level” I will. Coward.  Solar: “I’m the bigger person” I’m 150cm tall give me the gun.

Is this lore accurate? Perhaps.

I dont exactly know how to respond to this other than wonderful quotes

Wonderful fitful roles

Well from what i think

Some of these are just chaos and loving Duri being the violent one here

#xoshi asks #xoshi answers #boboiboy #boboiboy galaxy #bbb elements separated au #nerizys nerialter moot

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speaknowworldtour · 7 months ago

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“i tell you that i think i’m falling back in love with you” // “who’s gonna stop us from waltzing back into rekindled flames if we know the steps anyway”

“stitching ‘we were just kids, babe’. i said ‘i don’t mind it takes time’”// “and you said you’d come and get me but you were 25 and the shelf life of those fantasies has expired”

“starry eyes sparking up my darkest night” // “i thought i was better safe than starry eyed”

“your touch bought forth an incandescent glow” // “i felt aglow like this never before and never since”

“i’d die for you in the same way, if i first saw your face in the 1500s off in a foreign land… we would’ve been timeless” // “if you know it in one glimpse, it’s legendary”

“and when we go crashing down we come back every time” // “never quite buried”

“you paint me a blue sky and go back and turn it to rain” // “you lowdown boy you stand up guy”

“but it lies and it lies and it lies a million little times” // “you said i’m the love of your life about a million times”

“clear blue water high tide came and bought you in” // “who’s gonna tell me the truth when you blew in with the winds of fate”

“for a moment i was heaven-struck” // “and told me i reformed you”

“your integrity makes me seem small. you paint dreamscapes on the wall.” // “when your impressionist paintings of heaven turned out to be fakes”

“if you never looked my way i would’ve stayed on my knees and i damn sure never would’ve danced with the devil” // “well you took me to hell too”

“and all at once you are the one i have been waiting for” // “and all at once the ink bleeds”

“forever is the sweetest con” // “a conman sells a fool a get love quick scheme”

“you showed me colours you know i can’t see with anyone else” // “but i felt a hole like this never before and ever since”

“i like shiny things but i’d marry you with paper rings” // “and i wouldn’t marry me either” // “give you my wild give you a child” // “you shit talked me under the table talking rings and talking cradles”

“you would’ve been the one if you were a better man” // “i wish i could unrecall how we almost had it all”

“but if he’s a ghost then i can be a phantom” // “dancing phantoms on the terrace” // “my beloved ghost and me sitting in a tree d-y-i-n-g” // “can we watch our phantoms like watching wild horses”

“it must be counterfeit. i think there’s been a glitch” // “i can’t get out of bed cause something counterfeit’s dead”

“in my defence i have none, for digging up the grace another time” // “should’ve let it stay buried”

“the coward claimed he was a lion” // “you said i needed a brave man then proceeded to play him”

“i’m combing through the braids of lies” // “was any of it true?”

“you see me in hindsight tangled up with you all night burning it down” // “our field of dreams engulfed in fire your arsons match your somber eyes”

“and i’m never gonna love again” // “and i’ll still see it until i die you’re the loss of my life”

#so so many today #24 all together #truly this song is top 20 best songs she’s ever made #honestly maybe top 10 #top 5?#ttpdminutes #ttpd lyric parallels #ttpd lyrics #ttpd parallels #ttpd web weaving #web weaving #loml

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daniwib · 5 months ago

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Season 8 speculation

Here’s my own speculation on what is going to happen in s8 based partly on wishful thinking but also because TM likes to do the unexpected while also calling back to earlier episodes:-

Chim and Hen both get transferred out to different stations. Chim possibly to the academy as a trainer instead of a regular station. Either way, they’re not at the 118 anymore under Gerrard. The fandom is so focused on what their lives are going to be like working under Gerrard again that I think TM is going to flip things on us and they’re not going to be working under him at all. They’ve both already done that before and they’re both much stronger, wiser and more mature now. They won’t take his shit and so we won’t see it. It’ll be more dramatic to take them out of the equation completely and split the 118 up.

Eddie is in a dark place because Chris is still living in Texas. He’s aware things are not great with Gerrard but he’s not focused on it, he’s just trying to keep his head above water in his personal life. Call back to Tommy saying he didn’t like who he was working under Gerrard – Eddie cannot handle anything else, so he falls into his old military mindset and toes the line at work. Does whatever Gerrard says, doesn’t talk back etc etc. Inadvertently becomes Gerrard’s golden boy because of it though he barely even notices. I’d love for that to cause issues between him and Buck but I think their relationship is too strong for that. But then TM has surprised us all before so who knows.

It takes a while before Gerrard realizes that Buck is dating Tommy but once he does, he starts making Buck’s life hell at work in the small ways he did back in the day with Hen and Chim. Who aren’t there to support Buck, and Eddie doesn’t seem to notice, and so Buck flounders. He’s never experienced constant, relentless homophobia like that before. How would he react? Does he try to hide who he is like Tommy did while working under Gerrard, or does he instead flaunt it? Does it wear him down and make him withdraw into himself? Or do we finally see some real growth for his character and see him standing up for himself without any support from his coworkers? (I’m assuming Tommy is supporting him bts but perhaps not against Gerrard personally. Tommy has his own past demons about the man to deal with).

Call back to 3x16 when Buck says “Yeah, like if Bobby retired. [sic] You know, or one of us got moved to another house, we would still all stay in touch” and Buck’s seeking reassurance that that won’t happen to them. Which they don’t actually give him, btw. Fast forward to the end of s7 and what’s Bobby done? Retired. Sure, he changed his mind and wants to come back but as of now in canon he is retired. So, I’m waiting to see some or all of them transferred to other houses and the 118 be completely separated either physically or in Eddie’s case mentally if he stays working in the same house as Buck.

They did it in Lonestar already and we know the shows have echoed themes before (whumpable chaos coma besties TK & Buck anyone?). The drama potential of it happening to the 118 is enticing. It would affect all of them in different ways and who knows we might even get that Buck breakdown we’ve been wanting for years. There are so many ways all of their storylines could go before we finally get that sweet sweet resolution and see Gerrard get the karmic slap he has to have coming – because that’s something else that 911 loves, dispensing karma to those who deserve it.

I haven’t even mentioned the whole Bathena being homeless or HenRen losing Mara storylines, but I know those will come into play again in s8 and I am excited to see where things go with them, too.

I also really hope that Gerrard was the arsonist and that we get more of the 118 losing their homes to arson (cough cough Buck’s loft) and perhaps even the station itself. Far fetched? Possibly. We’ve had more insane things happen on this show, though.

I’ve deliberately not speculated on the BuckTommy or Buddie of it all because quite frankly I’m tired of the shipwar. I’m content to wait and see where TM goes with that. What I’m excited for is to see how the dynamics of Gerrard and every member of the 118 play out during s8.

#911 s8 speculation #911 spec #118 dynamics #911 abc #911 meta #9-1-1 #911 spoilers #chimney han #hen wilson #eddie diaz #evan buckley #tommy kinard #bobby nash #athena grant #captain gerrard

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i-am-an-arson-enthusiast · 1 year ago

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Here at i-am-an-arson-enthusiast, we i am dedicated to bringing you top quality content such as but not limited to: gay things, random thoughts, and even live arson that you don't even have to tune into!!

hi this is my intro post :D

Hiiii!!

here, have some basic info about me :3

name: anything goes pretty much but please use multiple names :] HOWEVER not neptune as that is reserved for @marcysbear :3c

OBLIGITORY QUEER SECTION!! i say that like i dont actively want this here. anyway! the labels i use are queer, bi, lesbian, gay, genderfluid, trans, gnc, non binary, genderqueer and arospec. arospec as in i am largely aromantic and use that as an umbrella term, however i am capable romantic attraction/ am flexible with such labels bc its all bullshit anyway.

i have audhd! i get hyperfixation and sometimes talk abt that if i so wish and my special interests are space and generally queer shit. also pls use tone tags i will think u hate me im too anxious for my own good sometimes

i am dogshit at spelling so. ignore the typos and misspellings!!

if u send me chain asks dont expect me to keep the chain going, ill answer it and say thanks but i wont actually do the thing

BOUNDIES!! GENUINE, ACTUAL BOUNDRIES!

-pls don’t send dono asks i don’t got money bc im a minor

-dont think if i have a take like "i dont like taylor swift" i am personally attacking you. you can like whatever the fuck u want idc everyone is entitled to their own opinoins. i just dont like her as a person

-DONT call me the reserved names if you arent that one person

-try to refrain from calling ppl (including me) baby/babe/bae around me it makes me want to die sometimes and i dont want to constantly be a romance repulsed little shit around u guys (this means dont use those names for anyone if i am in the conversation i cant control past that) (it also isnt a problem here i dont think ive ever seen it here its really just discord tbh)

-dont ask for my discord unless were friends or close in some way and dont get offended if i say no

-u can call me a faggot or dyke or tranny as long as you are the slur you are using

-if you have my discord and were moots you can call me a slut and a whore all u want idm :3 (bc i am a slut and a whore.) (really really sorry if you didnt want to read that btw /gen)

OH TAGS UH

i try to consistanly use them but sometimes i dont. sorry.

woah i’m using queue - i’m actually queuing a post for once instead of spam reblogging (which i mostly do sorry not sorry)

woah a real text post - me positing an actual text post for once but it’s becoming more common

cool ass art - art that i reblog (it’s all cool)

arson does half way decent art sometimes - my art. art i made. yea

moots feel free to ask for tags <3

i will keep adding more as i remember them and make them so yea :D also i try to tag for things but i often dont add tw or cw because. idk. just havent ever done that. if you need me too you can tell me in any form and ill try my gaddamn hardest to add them. feel free to *kindly* remind me if i forgot. (as in no verbal abuse ya know. if ur scared ur probably fine)

~~~~

i think. thats it. if u follow me and u didnt like this post dw im gonna screen u anyway <3

thank you for reading all of that i know it’s long. your cool so here’s a cookie 🍪 also here have this

~~~~~ blinky time ~~~~~

credit to @jeweledviolets @v-4-l-0-n and @theprideful :)

#queer #intro post #uhhhh #yeah #long posts #holy shit #tw flashing lights #its just the first n second blinky #woah a real text post

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wardenswateringhole · 1 month ago

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OC-tober 2024 Day 11: Themes or Symbolism

Arson was not created with themes or symbolism but gained some over time. I think in all his forms, he’s presented as a force for hope. The ability to rebuild after catastrophe and to let people who love you support you. He’s very adamant about not keeping you heart closed off to people you care about and care about you in return. He also presented as a force for acceptance. PKMN Arson was often made fun of about his past abusive relationship because his abuser was a woman and was treated as less than manly for it. Shadowed Cross Arson is a demon and powerful one at that. He understands if people don’t want to associate with him and doesn’t want to bring danger to people as a result of his nature. As a result, both Arsons know what it’s like to be excluded or treated differently because of things out of their control. They don’t wish that on anyone else and try to be as accepting as possible to all kinds of people.

#wardenspeaks #october2024 #bweirdoctober #Oc Arson #warden's ocs

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uniquevoidflowers · 1 year ago

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Treasures

@unexpectedstormy, for your other idea. Sorry it's short and a little bit more angsty than I thought it would be.

Wind’s POV

“Wind, remind me why we’re doing this again?” Legend grumbled.

“Why not?” Wind grinned.

“Don’t be a bum Legend, we brought you along cause you are the only responsible one that won’t mother us.” Wild scoffed.

“I don’t even know why I agreed to this.” Legend muttered.

“Because you love us!” Hyrule beamed.

Legend softened for a minute before grumbling something unintelligible. Wild somehow picked it up and started giggling. The chain were currently in Wind’s Hyrule, on a small island that the sailor had never explored before. So lo and behold, Hyrule, Wind, and Wild wanted to explore. Wind specifically wished to find some buried treasure.

He had only brought Legend along because secretly, Wind wanted to give some of the treasure to the collector of the group. As a thanks for all the times the veteran had decided to comfort all of them after a particularly bad nightmare, and give all of them the most delicious apple cider. Which meant Wind was even more determined to find this treasure.

“Aw, I wish we brought Wolfie, he would’ve been able to dig for us.” Hyrule lamented.

“Yeah well, Twilight would be mothering us. We aren’t even supposed to be exploring right now!” Wild kept the crazy grin on his face he would wear even when he was bleeding out rapidly.

“Don’t worry, I’m prepared. I have shovels.” Legend grunted and pulled them magically out of his bag.

“How can you do that?” Wind asked in awe.

“My bag is magical, what else is new?” Legend smirked, and handed each of them shovels.

They walked around and arrived on a beach. “Let’s start digging!” Wind cheered.

The four began to dig, and dig, and dig….and dig. And dig, and dig….and dig.

Unfortunately nothing appeared, and everyone was exhausted from digging for so long. “Well this has been fun, but I think we’ve had our attempt. Let’s go back now before we worry anyone.” Legend demanded.

“No! Legend we’ve got to find some treasure!” Wind pleaded.

“We can’t give up so easily!” Hyrule chimed in.

Legend looked conflicted. “Hate to break it to y’all but none of the chain know we went off to. Do you recall the last time SOMEONE went off and didn’t come back for hours? Without telling anyone where they were going?” He scowled.

Hyrule winced, indeed recalling the incident. “Don’t be like that Ledge, are you no fun at all?” Wild huffed.

“Wha—I’m plenty of fun! I just…don’t want to cause stress over something like this.” Legend retorted.

“If you are plenty of fun, then you’ll help us.” Wild rebutted.

Legend faltered and opened his mouth a few times but no sound came out. “This is my Hyrule, and you’re one of the most experienced heroes! We’ve got nothing to worry about.” Wind assured the veteran.

“…Fine.” Legend relented.

Wind gave a cheer. So they got to digging again, happily chatting about normal things like arson.(Surprisingly Legend was on board with that.) After what felt like forever Wild announced, “I found something!”

Everybody shot up and turned to look at the cook. “My Magnesis detected something in the water! I should be able to pull it out.” Wild elaborated, excitedly.

The three others leaned closer and watched in anticipation as Wild slowly used a red mechanic to bring out a chest from the beneath the blue ocean. Eventually the chest fell down on to the sand and Wind was allowed the opportunity to open it up. Inside was a stack of rupees and a golden necklace that had the name ‘Marin�� imprinted on it. Wind gingerly grasped the necklace and smiled. This was the perfect gift for Legend. “Here, vet, for you. Consider it a gift.” The sailor handed the necklace away.

Legend gasped and before Wind knew it, tears were streaming down the veteran’s cheeks. Silent tears turned into sobs as Legend held the necklace tight to his chest. “Whoa there, are you okay?” Wind frowned.

Did he do something wrong? Did Legend not like the gift? The collector just continued sobbing, and Wild looked puzzled. Hyrule carefully wrapped Legend in a hug. “Legend, breathe. Are you okay?” Hyrule asked.

“I’m fine. Thank you Wind.” Legend sniffled and wiped tears away as he stuffed the necklace into a pocket.

Legend’s cheeks were red as he turned away in what looked like shame. “If you don’t like the gift I can always just give you some rupees.” Wind offered.

“No, I-this name just brings up memories. But the necklace is good, thanks.” Legend reassured.

Wind furrowed his eyebrows. Was Legend just trying to be nice? “Well, I’d say this trip was successful. Should we go back to the chain now?” Wild suggested.

“Good idea.” Wind nodded, staring at the tear-streaked face of the vet.

Likely, Wind would never know why Legend had given that reaction, but he hoped it wasn’t because of him.

#linked universe #lu legend #lu wind #lu hyrule #lu wild #*sprinkles Legend angst*#whoops #poor ledge thinking of his redhead #Legend in his mind: It's her handwriting too.

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asirensrage · 2 years ago

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So....I am way behind on things (to no ones surprise lol) but I did finish this one so far. I hope you enjoy it. I went with choice #3 from the Scary Story Prompts. Thanks for participating! FYI not edited by anyone but me. No physical characteristics given.

Rating: M Fandom: The Lost Boys Pairing: None... Warnings: Stalking. Talk about dead animals being left on a doorstep. Murder. Arson. Useless cops. Dark fic.

Heed the warnings.

Prompt: #3 “There's nothing the cops will do about your stalker, nothing they can do against your monsterish pursuer.”

“Listen, kid,” the officer says. “People go missing here every week.”

Your jaw clenches, unimpressed by the answer. There’s no interest there, no help. It sounds like an excuse. One they use for everything. “You don’t understand,” you say, tone hardening. “They bang on the doors at night. They drive by, howling at me and calling me outside. Dead animals are left on my doorstep!”

The cop sighs but there’s still no sign of actual life in his eyes. He looks resigned, burnt out in this tourist trap of death. “Did you save the animals?”

“SAVE THEM? They’re buried! You can find them in my backyard!”

“So you tampered with evidence,” he sighs. “Next time call us.”

You try not to snap. Honestly, you do but the complete disregard for your case is pissing you off. You get that there are people missing but they don’t seem to get the concept that maybe this is going to lead you to be one of them! “Next time? Next time it might be my body you find instead of a dead cat! Fucking useless! ‘Serve and protect’, my ass!” you snarl before turning and storming off. You weren’t sure what you were expecting but help would have been nice. Hell, even some advice would have been useful instead of being told to call them when the next animal shows up dead. Like you haven’t been calling them every night the terrors show up and harass you. Last time the cops actually arrived, the voices were gone and you were the one told off for wasting their time.

“No wonder everyone is dead or missing in this town,” you mutter as you leave.

Arms crossed over your chest, you walk away from the police station. You barely slept anymore. The noises outside could last all night but the fact that there was never a sign of them when you opened the door to confront them was beginning to make you feel like you were insane. If it wasn’t for the dead animals, you’d believe it. Still, you didn’t know what to do.

“Can’t you like…set up a video camera at your window or something? See if you can record it?”

“There’s only like a couple hours on a tape,” you say. “And there’s probably not a lot of light. All it would make out is the fact that someone’s passing by. Not like…actual details which is what I need.” You rest your head on your arms that are resting on the counter. You’re just so tired. If you could get a couple hours of sleep, uninterrupted sleep, maybe you’d be able to actually think properly.

“Why don’t you come to my place?” Your friend offers. “Or we could go out of town!”

“We tried that,” you remind her. “Remember? They just…they followed.” You don’t even know how they knew where you were. The two of you had made plans at her place and left the same day. It was like the Terminator was after you.

You don’t even know how many there are or if it’s one person with some high-powered flashlights running around. If it was one person, that would make sense why they kept somehow disappearing when you opened the door. They managed to hide every time.

“I know, I just…I wish I could help.”

“Yeah.” You close your eyes, not really willing to continue this conversation. It was just sad. You were beginning to think that it was inevitable that your face was going to end up on that missing board. You let your head fall against the counter.

“What if you laid traps?”

“Like what? Nails on the doormat?”

“Or like tar on your walkway. Can you buy tar?”

“I think so. I’d have to subject myself to going to the hardware store.”

“Well, what’s worse? The hardware store where you have to deal with men thinking you’re incapable of doing anything or your stalker?”

You’re actually tempted to think about it but you already know the answer. If only to save the pets of the neighbourhood. “The stalker.”

You listen to the advice from the owner of the hardware store and the old men who frequent it while you ward off the attempts to wrangle an invite to help you apply the tar to fix your driveway. Multiple people offered to either help or give you the number of someone they knew who did that kind of work. You refused them all. If you were actually fixing the driveway, you might have taken the information for one of the service places but seeing as you were going to try to lay it out to catch your stalker, you didn’t want to have to try to explain it. The last thing you ended up with was someone offering to help. With your luck, there would be a dead body on your doorstep next time, not an animal. Though, that might actually get the police’s attention…though they’d probably arrest you for the murder. God forbid they do some actual investigating.

It takes hours. You’ve never been so thankful and so resentful that you live alone until now. The work would have been easier with help but at the same time, the only one you have to worry about walking on it is you.

You manage to pass out on the couch with the tv on before the sun sets. It’s not long but the exhaustion overrides the anxious fear that tends to creep up as darkness falls. They only ever show up at night. It’s enough to make you question getting a night shift but the idea of walking home in the dark, knowing they’re out there, is enough to keep you from finding one.

Something crashes against your door. You jolt up, suddenly wide awake. Heart pounding, you get up and move toward the door. You don’t know what you’re going to do but you need…You grab a knife. Just in case.

There are noises coming from the door. It doesn’t sound like the usual laughter and thumps that are meant to scare you.

“--the fuck is this?”

Someone is laughing hysterically. It doesn’t sound like the malicious laughter that has haunted you since this started. It sounds like they’re enjoying themselves.

“Shut up!” the voice snarls. “I’m fucking stuck!”

It was more than one person. Your heart climbs into your throat and despite knowing that you should call the cops, you just…you want to see who it is. You want to know if you know them.

You don’t open the door though. You can’t bring yourself to do it. You feel like you can barely move, especially when you hear more voices.

“Shouldn’t have landed,” a deeper voice says.

“Fuck you!” the first voice shouts back.

“She–” they continue to laugh, wheezing slightly. “She can hear us–”

“You going to open the door?” A different voice calls out. That’s four so far. “Since you caught a mouse.”

You don’t move, even as part of you wants to. Desperately. Fear overrides everything else though and you find yourself frozen in response.

“Open the door,” the trapped voice tells you.

“Yeah, come on. Come outside!” The voices echo slightly as if there are more of them and they seem louder than possible. As if they’re inside next to you.

There’s a burst of laughter that rings through you and you jump slightly, realizing that you’ve somehow moved forward, your hand on the doorknob. You don’t remember moving. How often has that happened in the night? That you found yourself somewhere you didn’t choose to go.

“Come out pretty girl,” one of the voices calls again.

“We want to play!” says another. Laughter echos again and you can’t help but shudder at the sound.

“Leave me alone!” You mean to sound stern, threatening even. It comes out pleading.

“And miss all the fun? Invite us in and we’ll talk.”

“I’m calling the cops!”

That just makes them laugh again. “Do it,” one of them says. “We haven’t eaten yet.”

“Yeah, we can have you for dessert.”

“Think she’s sweet enough?” You hear one of them ask.

“We’ll find out.”

“Come on out, sweet thing. Let us taste you.”

You jolt back, your hand somehow suddenly on the doorknob. When did you unlock the door? You wouldn’t. You move back but the door opens even as you try to retreat. For once there’s someone standing there. Multiple people, staring at you.

“You coming to join us?” one of them asks. The most striking thing about him is the bleach white hair and the intensity of his stare.

“No,” you shake your head, trying not to give in to the urge to run. Something tells you they’ll follow. They always follow.

“You will,” the dark haired one behind him says. You don’t even question how they’re not stuck. Only one of them looks like he’s struggling, the other blonde in the back. The rest just seem highly amused. But they’re standing there. Aren’t they?

You reach forward and slam the door before they can stop you. You shove your body against the door, terrified you won’t be able to lock it before they shove their way in.

They don’t need to. It’s silent outside and that scares you more than their laughter. You don’t know what they’re planning if you can’t hear them but you’re not stupid enough to think that you’re safe. You call the cops regardless. At least so it’s on record. They make a promise to come check it out, but you know it won’t happen. They never come by unless it’s daylight.

The window breaks with a crash, smothering the sound of the bottle that shatters as it hits your floor. Fire erupts in the room. You move before you can think, running out the door and away from the heat.

You slam into a body. Hands grab your arms, keeping you from falling back.

“There you are.”

You look up in horror at the face staring down at you. All you register are fangs and ridges that don’t look human.

“I win!” the thing calls out. A riot of curls form a mullet but it’s not…it looks like a monster. Some kind of special effects.

“Well, you know what that means,” a voice calls out. You glance around, looking at the men who suddenly surround you. They were men before, weren’t they? When they were at your door, they were human. But now..

The blond from before, the one who wasn’t stuck grins at the thing holding you. “You get first bite.”

“Aww man!” someone calls out but it doesn’t matter. All you see are teeth before something is biting you. You struggle, but he is like a vice holding you. As your sight goes dark, you hear that laughter again.

taglist: @burnincrown @raith-way @chrissymunson @veetlegeuse @chickensarentcheap @residentdormouse

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#dark fic #the lost boys #the lost boys fanfic #vampire fic #not a happy ending #least not for you #ridea's 1k follower celebration

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acacia-may · 1 year ago

Text

Up In Flames

Pre-Canon Kit Snicket and Count Olaf Ficlet for Woevember 2023 hosted by @asouefanworkevent Day 1: Olaf's Mansion. The ficlet mentions that they were in a relationship (like in the canon), but it is portrayed as a tumultuous and unhealthy.

(Warnings: Mentioned Arson. Some language).

It so often happens when one is going through a rebellious phase and an identity crisis that one often makes bad decisions which are bitterly regretted later in life, and Kit Snicket, I am sad to say, was no exception to the rule.

If you asked her even years later how she had even started going out with him, she wouldn't be able to tell you, and even at the time, she couldn't for the life of her even begin to tell you why him of all people. It was no secret to anyone, Kit least of all, that he was arrogant, incredibly self-interested, and greedy, but he was the only person she knew who seemed to be questioning everything just like she was. Her other associates, even her own family, seemed to have everything together and had no doubts and no questions whereas Kit was beginning to wonder if she was anything more than that tattoo on her ankle? If she had anything more to hope for in her life than just being a “volunteer”? If V.F.D. was her entire identity? And was it a good thing? Was it the right thing? Was she good? Was she right? And if she was really working for the good, why did she feel so confused?

She couldn't shake the feeling that she was a bird trapped in a cage. She needed air. She needed room to breathe. She needed answers. He didn’t really give her any of these things, but at least he, too, was questioning his identity in the organization, and as she would later realize, even the organization itself.

Her brothers were furious, convinced he was bad news even if he was an associate. They tried their best to convince her to leave him behind, and looking back, she almost wished she had. But at the time, she continued to see him, if just to upset Jacques and Lemony. She hated them telling her what to do and how to live her life, as if they knew anything about it. They didn’t. They were always so put together, so sure, and as much as she cared for her brothers, she knew the only person she could really rely on was herself. Getting abandoned by the organization in which she found her identity, left to take the fall for a mission they had sent her on, had taught her that. Having to break herself out of jail when she was only a child had seared it into her, as permanent and indestructible as that tattoo on her ankle.

“I don’t need you to take care of me! I can take care of myself!” she had argued if only because she felt suffocated. She always felt suffocated, and he was the only one who it seemed didn’t suffocate her. Their relationship wasn’t serious. In fact, she wasn’t even sure if you could call it a “relationship” at all. It was more like semi-romantic self-destructive behavior or bad coping. Had she known what she knew now, what she had known for the past week and agonized over on her long walk up the crooked path to his mansion, she would have dumped him, would have never gone out with him in the first place, but she hadn’t know. How can anyone really ever know?

Whatever had been between them had mostly ended by the time the mysterious fires had begun. They had sort of fallen apart and broken up, if they had ever been together in the first place, and parted ways with his promise that he would one day kiss her one last time. Kit didn’t really know why or how it had happened, but she didn’t really have the time to ponder it and, truthfully, she didn't really care to. They had simply run their course, and she had fires to investigate.

Mystifying acts of arson seemed to dominate all their V.F.D. meetings around this time. It was all anyone could talk about anymore. What was going on? Why were there so many? Was there any pattern to them? Who was starting them and why? And the worst question of all: when would the next one strike? Fires ran rampant through the city leaving a trail of casualties in their wake--innocent people killed, for what end?

Kit could not remember who first suggested that it was an insider, an enemy who had infiltrated the ranks of their fire-fighting side of V.F.D., responsible for the fires, but as she sifted through case file after case file, she grew more and more uneasy, more and more convinced that it was true. Finally, Jacques came to see her. It was late at night, and she knew something was wrong. Her brother's usually warm dark eyes were stormy.

“This has nothing to do with how I feel about it,” he said. “You have to see this.” He handed her the file, but she didn't even have to open it. She knew.

What she didn't know was how to react. She didn’t know what she felt except she didn’t feel surprised. It was as if she had known all along.

She let herself into his house after several knocks on his front door were met with no answer. She knew where he kept his spare key though she didn't need it as the door had been left unlocked. The mansion was old, musty with creaking floorboards, chipped furniture, and peeling paint. She took a seat at her usual place at the long dining table and poured herself a cup of tea.

After nearly half-an-hour of waiting for him and tapping her fingers on the side of her saucer, she didn’t show any emotion when he finally showed up, late as usual even despite the fact they were meeting at his home at his request. He appeared in the doorway disheveled and unkempt. With one look into his face, there was no denying what she already knew.

“How could you?” She couldn’t help but ask in a voice that was even and cold. He didn’t try to deny it or even try to explain himself. “You are a wicked man."

“You dated me what does that say about you?” he replied darkly, his shiny, cold eyes staring at her as he took a seat beside her at the table.

"I can't believe you would do this," she said, but he just laughed derisively under his breath, shaking his head. He always saw through her attempts to lie.

"Yes, you do, and you know why."

Kit shifted uncomfortably under the weight of his gaze, as he continued, "You know V.F.D. doesn't give a shit about you--doesn't give a shit about anyone."

Kit gritted her teeth. "That doesn't mean we should go around lighting people on fire."

"I light buildings on fire," he explained with an unfeeling nonchalance. "If people get caught in the crossfire, that's their problem, not mine. And don't act so high and mighty. It's nothing we haven't done before--only the fire-starters actually pay."

"Is this all about the money?"

"What else?"

"I don't know..." Her voice trailed. "I guess I thought too much of you--thought you might be doing this for respect. Justice. To not be used anymore..."

He cut her off with a snorted, scoffing laugh. "You don't know me at all, do you?"

Kit's stomach twisted, and she swallowed hard, turning away from him abruptly unable to look into his eyes anymore.

"But...you could have all that, you know?" he continued. "If you come with me. You might just be a number or a nuisance to those fire-fighting sheep, but if you join the fire-starters at least you'll be a rich one. And it's nice to know where you stand. We don't pretend to be good people." His mouth curved into a crooked, slimy grin. "What do you say?"

“How could you even ask me that?” she demanded, clinching her hands into fists. “I've devoted my whole life to fighting fires, and you’re the one starting them. You may have given up on what's right in this world, but I haven’t!”

He laughed a sinister, evil laugh which sent chills down her spine. “Kit, my dear, do you really think we are so different? That me and V.F.D. are so different? Think of all the things your 'noble' organization has had you do. You’re just as bad as me. You’re just better at hiding it.”

Kit hands began to shake, but she clinched her fists tighter, pounding one against the table. “I am nothing like you, Olaf!”

At these words, Count Olaf rose--gripping her wrists in his clammy, bony hands and pinning her against the table. Kit swallowed hard as he stared at her menacingly. She inhaled sharply but stared back determined that his attempts to frighten her would fail.

“We’ll see about that…” he hissed, released her hands, and walked away--his haunting words lingering in the air as Kit's whole world went up in flames.

#woevember #kit snicket #count olaf #asoue #a series of unfortunate events

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