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sethcertified · 1 year ago

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「 SCREAM FOR YOU ! 」 . . . 📂 EPILOGUE

scream: billy loomis & stu macher

w.c: 2.1k

⊹˚.⋆ synopsis . . . Waking up from a coma, the events that followed the Macher house massacre are revealed to you by a familiar face. Except, they’re not how the story actually went…

⊹˚.⋆ starring . . . billy loomis, stu macher, & male reader

My name is [Name] Riley.

I am 17 years old.

I am sitting in a hospital bed.

I miss my bed.

My butt hurts.

I miss my home.

...

I miss my sister.

I shook my head as I threw down the pencil onto my lap with a frustrated sigh. My fingers ached from the force I held the pencil with while writing in my newly appointed journal. Mr. Ryder, the psychiatrist that had been appointed to me, had given me the journal to document my mental state since the massacre at the Macher party as I way to make sure I was doing okay, yet it felt more like torture than a way to check up on how I was feeling mentally.

The only relief it gave me was a false sense of company. I hadn't spoken to anyone since I had been put into this room except the nurses that came and went, my doctor, and my psychiatrist. I ignored the outside world's efforts to get me to face the people I had betrayed despite the knocks on my door and the letters slipped into my room. It was lonely, no doubt, but I was too much of a coward to face the reality of what I had done.

What they had done.

The blood on their hands. The blood on mine. It stained. Stained my mind with guilt of what I had done; the path I had chosen. 10 people had died that night, and I could've prevented all 10 of them if I hadn't been so caught up in my own feelings.

In the end, I prevented one. One death. Yet the guilt didn't diminish in the slightest. The blood didn't wash away. Everything remained the same. Everyone remained dead. Except me.

I had hoped I would die that night whether it was on the floor or on that stretcher, but fate had refused to show me pity. Fate decided I needed to be punished for what I had done by keeping me alive. But that wasn't punishment enough; fate felt the need to punish me even more. Fate had kept them alive as well.

Billy Loomis and Stu Macher were alive and all because of me. I had saved them from death that night but sacrificed some of the people I loved the most. It was a fair price to pay for my actions, but I didn't realize that the transaction would actually happen. That they would actually be dead. Even as I thought that, my brain couldn't process the fact that they were dead. That they were all dead.

Tatum was dead.

Dewey was dead.

Randy was dead.

Gale was dead.

Dead, dead, dead, and more dead.

I coughed awkwardly as I averted my attention away from the journal and my depressing mindset to the hoard of pity gifts resting around my room. They had been gifted to me from all sorts of people; relatives, friends, even people I had never even talked to. I hadn't bothered reading a single one. They saw me as a hero. A survivor. I couldn't face them knowing that I was anything but those things.

The bright pop of colors of the gifts contrasting against the plain, white walls of my bleak hospital room was distraction enough from my thoughts, but just staring at the huge array of them made my mind reel in guilt. With a sigh, I leaned my head back against the plush pillow, shutting my eyes. Sleep called out my name begging for me to relax into the bed just as it had been It was routine at this point. Ever since I arrived here, sleep was all I seemed to do. After all, it was the only distraction from my horrid thoughts.

As my mind began to turn off, a knock at the door resonated from the far corner of my room, but I payed no mind. Knocks were frequent and expected at this point. As I learned from experience, they usually leave after about a minute or two of knocking, so I expected the same routine to follow. At least until the knocking persisted for minutes on end after the first knock. My brows flexed in annoyance as my patience drew thin. "Can't you give a guy some peace?" I yelled out.

A muffled voice yelled back out to me in response, "[Name]? It's me, Sidney! Please open the door." My eyes shot wide open as I tumbled out of the hospital bed, rushing to open the door. I hadn't heard from Sidney since I instructed her to fake her death many weeks ago. While one of the nurses had told me Sidney visited while I was stuck in my coma when I first barely woke up with a teasing, "Your girlfriend came around. She was so worried! How cute! Yada yada," but refused to tell me anything I actually yearned to know about her visit.

I had been hoping she would come back to see my now that I wasn't unconscious, so to hear her voice from the other side of the door was liberating. Exciting, even. I launched the door open to see to Sidney standing there, "Sid-"

"[Name]."

"You're alive," I gasped with relief. Sidney Prescott was alive. My grand scheme had succeeded. I wrapped my arms around Sid's waist as I pulled her into a hug; her head fell into the crook of my neck, mumbling, "I thought you died."

"I thought you died," I said. Sidney chuckled weakly as she pulled away, yet still keeping her hands on my shoulders. Her eyes shown under the fluorescent light with a hopeful gleam. "Thank you."

"For what?" I asked, genuinely confused. I had done nothing, in my opinion, that was deserving of a thank you from anyone, Sidney especially. I wasn't aware of how far back her knowledge of what actually went down was, but I didn't think twice about underestimating her. For all I could know, she knew everything that I had done alongside Billy and Stu.

"For saving my life?" Sidney joked but her tone held sincerity underneath the layer of sarcasm. My confused expression slipped away into something morbid as guilt overcame me once more. Although, in truth, I did save Sidney's life; it didn't feel right for her to thank me. I had betrayed her trust, friendship, etc under the guise of my "investigation." I had went behind her back about Cotton Weary, got together with her boyfriend who happened to be the actual criminal behind her mother's brutal murder, killed her father, and helped the same murders with their plan to kill her.

I brushed her hands off my shoulders as I headed back to my bed. How could I face her knowing she thought of me so sincerely? I sat on the edge of my bed with my head resting on my palms. My eyes stared holes into the white tile of the ground. The sound of shoes tapping against the floor made me shut my eyes. Sidney was heading my way without a doubt, and I dreaded every click of her shoe against the time.

The clacking stopped as the spot next to me was occupied by Sidney, "Are you okay?" I nodded weakly as I turned to her. I couldn't let my emotions get in the way; something I learned the hard way. "How are you here, Sid? Doesn't everyone think you're dead? And what about Billy and Stu? If they know you're alive, they'll come after you." My voice was urgent and a tad bit frantic. These were questions I had been asking myself ever since that nurse told me Sidney came by, and I truly did need them answered.

"They really haven't told you anything?" Sidney asked with shock laced in her tone. My brows furrowed as I thought back to the authority figures that had been taking care of me. Was there really something they've been hiding from me that was so important? Is that why the nurse refused to tell me anything about Sid's initial visit? "What do you mean?"

Sidney grasped my hand in hers. Her eyes were scanning my face, making my stomach churn with anxiety. She was looking for something. I didn't know what it was nor if she would find it. Hell, I didn't even know what "it" was. Sid's eyes shone with pity, "Everyone knows I'm alive, [Name]. They know about you saving me too."

"What?!" I asked as my chest began to swell with anxieties. What happened while I was in my coma? What happened to Billy and Stu? I gasped for air as my head raced, "How?"

"Hey, hey, calm down," Sidney rested her other hand on the back of my shoulder, trying to keep me steady. "Let me explain." I nodded as I took some breaths. I wasn't going to get anywhere by having a panic attack.

"I did as you said and hid away. I was heading to sneak into the police car when I saw your mom by the garage." My eyes widened at that. My mom had came? But my shock quickly washed away into despair as I remembered she probably saw Tatum's blood staining the garage door. I wasn't sure if Sidney sensed my sadness, but if she did she payed no mind. "She was upset- but she was just asking if you were safe. I told her about your plan, and she took me home with her."

I nodded, eager to hear the rest of what she had to say. Sidney took my nod with a stride as she continued, "We all thought you were dead. Week after week, the doctor would say the same thing, so your mom wanted to ensure you and Dewey and Tatum and everyone else got the justice they deserved. She got this lawyer and was determined to arrest Billy and Stu after I had told her everything that they had done."

My fingers twitched against my leg as I froze. Billy and Stu hadn't visited me once... Was this the reason why? Were they seriously locked away while I was in this coma? But those questions only led to one; one question I couldn't wrap my head around. Why would they keep my innocence intact?

Love? No way.

"Did they?" I asked. Sidney nodded as she wrapped her arms around me. "We don't have to worry about them, anymore. They can't terrorize us nor our families anymore." I smiled as she wiped the leaking tears out of her eyes. It was a fake smile. My mind was elsewhere, and I could not be happy for either of us in the moment.

Sidney sensed that and backed away from me. Her eyes scanned my face before she stood up. "It's a lot to digest, so I'll give you some space. See ya later, [Name]." I waved bye at her as she excited the hospital room, but my happy facade was gone as soon as her presence was out the door.

Billy and Stu were arrested? And I'm now a hero? What? I felt the migraine take over my body as I bit my lip. What had happened? My thought process was interrupting once more as a knock came from the door. I rolled my eyes. "Come in!" I yelled. Yet no one did. My brows furrowed as a small slip of presumed paper slid out from under the door.

I stood up from the bed to observe the small, folded piece of paper. Bending down, I grasped the paper gently before unfolding it. The words on the paper made me freeze and my blood go cold.

I know what you did.

✎ notes . . . So many people were asking for it, so I finished off the epilogue that had just been collecting dust in my drafts 😭 but this does kinda make it OFFICIAL that scream for you isn't over although I gave up on it. It's gonna be awhile before the sequel is out and I'm focused on other projects rn as well as my requests on my tumblr. That being said, I have a discord server! Pls join its very empty rn and there's definitely some of u who I think r rlly cool and would like to know better!

https://discord.gg/f8YBEjzz

Thank you for all the love even tho this book sucks. It's crazy to see how big it has gotten and 500 followers!! I'm gonna shed a tear. Thank you for all the comments, I adore every single one. Thank you for the notes. And thank you for enjoying my work.

©️ sethcertified 2023 10.5

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boizandgurlzinthehouse · 1 year ago

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𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮?

summary: y/n didn't fell well in the last year... and she probably never will feel herself well again. word count: 2.832k trigger warning: SUICIDE, SELF-HARM (really, don't read it if it trigger you please please please), psych ward, signs of mental illnesses, heartbreak, hallucinating, screaming, farewell letter

count your fingers. breathe in, breathe out.

"are you doing this again?"

y/n sat on her bed, smoking a cigarette as she read the newest tabloids. others were watching tv in the lodge, but she preferred to out out some titles and interesting articles. the date stated 1995, may 3rd.

"you are no longer in the newspaper. they're dumb, never writing anything in these papers, fuckers."

scratching her neck, her nail broke at the end. it was weak ever since she got here, sleeping and eating was difficult also.

"but they were true about me."

she looked at him, pulling her knees to herself.

"fuck you, they weren't."

kurt sat at the leg of the bed, now the closest ever. he always stood at the door, sat by the window, or sat on the ground, facing her.

just keep counting. six, seven, eight...

"you look like you need a rest, love. dark circles doesn't fit you."

something constantly buzzed in her mind, like a radio band is always on, even if there's no music and no jokes. or the tv in the lodge at 2am, no shows were playing, she always talked with kurt at night, until the nurses didn't guide her back to her room. she was alone here, at peace, doing what she liked to do --writing her diary, reading books, painting her nails. he wanted to paint kurt's too, but he never came close to her, never let her touch him. he was distant, but in a comforting way.

"who do i need to look beauty for?" y/n asked, exhaling the smoke. kurt smiled, pointing at himself.

"for me."

"yeah, of course."

take your medicine. place a pill on your tongue, then swallow it down with a gulp of water.

the next dose of pills were laying on the plate, waiting for her to take them with a cup of water. they trusted her enough to take it alone, since she almost scratched her wrists from freaking out too many times. the clock on her nightstand ringed, it was time.

"you know i'll never disappear, even if you take those?" kurt laid back on her bed, reaching his hand to the ceiling.

brushing her hair, y/n turned away her head from him. she didn't want to hear this, and to turn to her sane sense.

"if you live only in my head, why can't i just make you go away?" she whispered, her eyes lingering on the lace of the curtain, forming an angel and a bunny.

"because you don't want to let me go."

looking at him again, the buzzing was so intense and it wasn't pleasuring. the voice wanted to tell her something, but it never could. it was a void. she was a void.

am i telling this to myself too? y/n felt tired, picking a pill, popping into her mouth. she ate more pills than actual meals, in the first two months, it was strange to even eat after only living on little pieces of medicine for so long. she looked at kurt, he was still here. ten more minutes and he'll be gone, but the pills only made her tired, they never sent him truly away. or, maybe it was easy to crawl into her mind. laying down, she used her boney arm as an extra pillow, dragging the comforter up on her body.

"when i wake up, piss off."

"can't promise, princess." kurt said, leaning on his elbow as he saw her closing her eyes.

days went like this --waking up before 10am, taking pills, skipping breakfast because the pills always caused her nausea, playing and talking with the others in the psych ward, talking with her own psychiatrist, eating lunch, taking pills, resting in the afternoon, reading the tabloids every wednesday, watching the telly or reading a book before dinner, and then, taking the day's last pills, and then sleeping all night, but she often woke up, sometimes two or three times even.

a knock woke her up from her deep slumber, making her shake. looking around, kurt was not around anymore --at least he kept his poor promise. a nurse, dorothy was standing in the door.

"good afternoon, y/n. you have a visitor."

it was strange. she broke her connections with most people, only dave and christ knew that y/n was still in here.

"who?" she asked, getting up to put on her shoes.

"his name is dave grohl. do you know him?" dorothy asked, making her nod. standing up, y/n went out on the door, seeing dave. walking up to him, dave smiled at her, but it was something uncertain in his eyes. y/n gave up for caring about other's feelings a couple months ago, since she couldn't even deal with hers.

"hello, angel! how are you?" he asked in the sound like you ask from a child, hugging her lightly.

"totally fine." really, she was in a psych ward almost a year from now on, what could she say?

"can we go for a walk? that girl... maybe dorothy? said that we can go for a little walk, i want to know what's going on with you."

stepping outside, y/n breathed fresh air only when she opened her window, and went for a short trip with the others once in three months. the air was calming, and the sun didn't shine too bright, flowers grow on the edge of the sidewalk. dave was so strange, like he also lived in her mind. but he doesn't have to know about that.

"so, what's up? hanging around, uhm..." he wanted to continue, but y/n looked at him.

"chill, dave. i know this place is a horror house. i'm pretty fine, dealing with my things and stuff... and you?"

"i'm fine also. me and jennifer talked about having kids, but i'm not feeling the time yet."

"i felt that." she and kurt had frances, y/n loved her as her own daughter, even if that crazy woman courtney fretted her for being in the baby's presence.

"i have some pictures about bean, do you wanna see them? courtney was against it, but... i thought you'd like."

"that's really nice from you, dave."

seeing the pictures, she felt like the whole universe laughed at her. the buzzing started again, she tried to smile. "how big she is!"

"yeah, well, she is just like her fath-"

dave suddenly silenced. because everybody knew. everybody knew that y/n got in here because kurt died, her mind couldn't comprehend the fact, and she began to see him. she began to hallucinate, and most of the time, she just laid on her bed and looked at the ceiling, not eating, not drinking. if she wasn't crying or screaming, she was sleeping or just being like a sack of potato. the most miserable sack of potato. almost a year, and she didn't even made the smallest progress. she clearly, medically went crazy because of her lover's death.

"look, y/n... me, jen, chris and his wife is going on a trip... you should come too. it's much warmer there in california, you could loose up a little bit, don't you?"

y/n scratched her arms, looking at the stop sign at the end of the road.

"it's a really nice idea, dave. thank you. it's just... what if kurt-"

"what? what about kurt?" dave asked, getting angry. "sorry, but what fucking about him?"

"nothing, just... nothing, really, i just don't want to go."

"because of him? y/n, i don't want to be mean, but did you look at yourself? his death caused all of us pain, but you literally got sick from it."

"what about me? what about me, what about me?" she yelled. "don't say that he's dead, because i fucking see him everyday, and i'm not gonna let it slip!"

"do you see him right now, huh? do you see him? because if yes, then you are just the same as those girls who get shocked to be normal just a little bit!"

"and what if i saw him? what if i saw him and he just could see that how big of a cock your are, fuck you, dave!"

he laughed like he doesn't believed what he just heard.

"here we fucking are again, y/n! because i'm a good friend of yours, i'm gonna tell you that nobody fucking sees him, nobody who's normal! i thought that it's just some aftermath of your depression, but..."

"but what? i am crazy? i am compulsive? i am fucking hopeless? because you know, every fucking day was a menace since things got fucked up!"

"no, you are fucking worse than you were when he died!" dave screamed, trying to reach for her arm to get her back to the psych ward, but y/n clawed at him like a cat, while from the tip of her throat, an enormous shriek came from her, and then y/n just snapped.

"HE MAY BE DEAD! AND EVEN IF HE IS, I WISH I COULD DIE EVERY DAY JUST TO FREE MYSELF FROM ALL OF THIS VOID!" her vocal cords almost teared up as she screamed, crouching on the ground, holding her head. this was the end, the waves crashed above her head, the endless sea of her depression caged her in.

like a switch finally turned down, y/n tried to collect her breath, but it didn't helped. she went too deep, and the last breath of hope was sucked out from her.

"are you okay? y/n, fuck, are you alright?" dave asked her. y/n stood up, brushing her hair from her face.

"yes, i think everything's okay." she felt her own voice static, but it didn't matter.

"okay, then... shall we go back? you must be tired."

"yeah. let's go back."

dave didn't even know that he saw her the last time alive.

"i hope you get a little rest. i think it wasn't a good idea to come, but... i care about you. we all do." he said inside, y/n pulled up the muscles of her lips.

"it's okay. it was good to see you, dave." giving him a hug, it lasted a little bit too long, but he wanted too, so it wasn't a problem. she just wanted to feel loved after so long.

"see you later, y/n."

"yeah, see you too, dave!" she waved to him from the window, dave got out his camera from his car.

"do this again! wave and say, 'hi everybody!'"

"hi, goodbye, good morning, good afternoon everybody!" she sang while faning with her hand, smiling. dave waved to her the last time, then he got in his car, riding away.

do kurt miss christ and dave just as she?

1am. 1995, may 4th.

not a soul walked on the hallways of the ward. it was peaceful, only the small droplets from the fountain harmed the silence. only one bathtub, filled with water, a hand hanging on the side of the white porcelain. little curls of steam floating in the air.

"are you sure about that?"

he was here again, with her. kurt leaned on the brim of the tub, looking at y/n as she collected the pills. she's gonna swallow all of it, with two gulps of water, and then... she didn't know what's going after this, but she couldn't handle it any longer. life was too heavy, she felt it on her shoulders, her spine, her head, it crawled it's weight into her guts from day to day, a new day, a new weight.

looking at him, she stopped in her movements.

"did it hurt?"

kurt only smiled at that, saccharine in his smile.

"did life hurt?"

"only when you weren't there." she replied, then, placing the first dose of pills into her hand. "i wrote a letter. i hope they find it. and i hope i'll find you."

because she hoped, really. she had hope, not for life, but for him. she felt dumb every time she saw lame romance movies about people can't live without each other, but it turned out that it was true. she literally died without him, and air got much more suffocating.

looking at the pills, she looked up to the cross on the wall in front of her. so this is the end.

"i'll look for you, kurt. i love you." she said, not even paying attention to the fact if he was there or not, even if he just lived in her head. downing the pills, chug, another doze of pills, chug. just a couple of minutes, and no days will be spent with agony and crying, screaming, watching shitty movies, trying to live.

somehow, it was comforting to her.

laying back in the warm water, she saw kurt coming closer to her. her vision began to get blurry, and she felt stomach churn, her heart and liver exploding, but it was only a little pain. her lover bend over her, and maybe he touched her, kissing her forehead, but she didn't felt it. there was no movie in front of her eyes, playing her whole life, there weren't any so special things from books the writers always talked about. it was just laying down and resting for awhile.

in her last moments, she felt nothing else but warmth.

dear everybody, or anybody who finds this,

i never wasted too much words about anything. maybe i should have done, but i'm not gonna change this, so please, don't judge me. it's rude to judge dead people anyway.

everyone who thinks that my actions is in connection with kurt, they're right. i don't want to brag about my mental state, let's just say, i didn't feel well in the last couple of months. people around you change you, taking you to a ride, and i guess that i wasn't ready for the end of the ride. in the end, i only want you to remember that how wonderful and gentle, unique and perfect creatures we are. i loved myself, always, i just didn't love the way i felt.

some words to the people, because i was too much of a scaredy-cat to talk with them in the last rounds: dave and chris. you two are truly wonderful, the best guys i could ever imagine. i'm sorry that you have to get to know about this in a letter, but please, never let kurt's memory die, and maybe, don't even let mine. i didn't do a lot of good things in my life, but i loved. i loved and cared, and maybe that can be valuable even for you. courtney, i know we've never been good friends, but maybe, we never could be. i just want to wish you strength and courage for the rest of your life, i've never invalidated your feelings. maybe i felt just like you, excluding the fact that i don't have a lovely supergirl. frances bean, you little star; you won't remember me, but i'll remember you. you are the most fantastic girl i've ever known, and you'll gonna rock the world, just like your father did.

i don't want you to be sad. i wasn't sad, just a little crazy. living our lives without our loved ones claims us to be strong and brave, but i'm not enough brave for it. you're gonna do it instead of me, and my gratitude will chase you forever.

never forget to love and care! i did the same.

y/n y/l/n

she opened her eyes, sun shining through her eyelids. where the hell she was? feeling something soft under her touch; she laid on sand. little rocks pressed into her palms as she sat up. she didn't know where she was, and she wasn't even certain if she did what she did. coming to her senses, the waves crashed in the ocean only a few foot apart from her. washing the shore, it almost get wet her too. it was peaceful and unusual.

but she was not the only one sitting on the beach.

a figure, 60 feet from her sat just like her in silence, looking at the ocean and the dawning sun. could it be...

standing up, she was unsure in her steps, but somehow, she managed to go closer. it was him. instead of screaming and jumping, she simply crouched beside kurt, looking at him, so she was sure that it's really him. the wind blew his hair, his lips surely were salty from the air. brushing through his hair at the back of his neck, the blonde curls felt like silk. he was an angel.

without saying a word, y/n leaned her head on his shoulder. she could touch him now, watching as the sun bleed through the sky. she felt something warm in her chest–

–sure it wasn't reality. but it didn't even needed to be.

a/n: this is my first oneshot in this genre, and to be honest... i don't want to write more. i just had a very depressed couple of weeks, and this just came into my mind. i won't write fics like this, it turned out that i like domestic comfort and fluff more. if you liked it, or want to request, write in the comments, dm me or write here

stay safe, love yourself girliez,

louisa

#kurt cobain x reader #kurt cobain #nirvana #90s #dave grohl #chris novoselic #send me requests

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ginnyw-potter-archive · 1 year ago

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First day

Written for @hinnymicrofic, Sept Day 1: Time (826 words so a little long)

“Mum! Mum! Dad! Daaad! I am starting Hogwarts today!”

Harry opened his eyes abruptly, looking at the little red-haired ball of energy at the end of the bed. “What time is it?” he croaked, reaching for his glasses and shoving them onto his nose.

“Six,” Ginny mumbled.

“Get uuup!” Lily begged them, pulling at the foot of the sheets.

Harry pulled back and frowned at her. “I know you’re excited, but I promise the train will not leave without you.” He ignored his wife’s muted snort.

“Go ahead and shower,” Ginny said. “We’ll be up in a minute.”

Lily escaped their room again and ran to the bathroom with the energy of a toddler on a sugar rush. Harry let his head drop back on the pillow and groaned. Ginny turned around to him.

“It’s annoying, really,” he said with a smile. “How much she’s like you.”

Ginny blinked slowly. “Shut up.”

“I suggest you handle her, since she’s bouncing around like a rogue bludger,” he suggested carefully.

“I am retired!” She shot him a disapproving look. “I think you should handle the little fugitive, Mr Head Auror.”

“Ah.” He shook his head. “I knew that promotion was going to bite me in the butt sooner rather than later.”

Ginny’s face broke out into a smile, and it was like the sun had broken through the clouds. “You bet.”

Before they could decide who would be in charge of their youngest, a blood-curdling scream came from the bathroom.

Ginny pushed the sheets off and took up her wand. “I’ll go.” She walked into the hallway. “You handle our sons!”

“Both?!” he asked.

“Yes!”

Harry got out of bed and got dressed. He walked to the bathroom first and knocked on the door. “All okay?”

Ginny sighed. “Someone put frogspawn in the shower head.”

At that moment the door at the end of the corridor and James stepped out. Harry turned around.

“What’s happening?” James asked.

Harry put on a stern expression. “There was frogspawn in the showerhead, would you happen to know about that?”

James looked down at the floor, avoiding his father’s gaze. “...No.”

Harry wasn’t convinced. “Go to your room, I’ll be there in a minute.”

James grumbled and trod off to his room, slamming his door. Harry shook his head. He peered into Al’s room, but as usual his middle child was deep asleep. He could sleep through anything. Harry took a deep breath and walked to James’s room.

James sat on the edge of his bed. Harry pulled up the desk chair and sat in front of his son.

“I didn’t do it!” James defended himself before Harry could ask anything.

Harry nodded. “But you knew about it?”

James looked down again. “I did.”

“And you didn’t say anything, why?” Harry asked.

His son looked at him with a grimace. “Because you’re usually the first to shower.”

Harry suppressed a smile. “I see.”

“I wouldn’t do that to Lily,” he argued.

Harry’s eyebrows raised.

“... on her first day of school,” he ended sheepishly.

“Who did? Was it Al?” Harry asked.

“No!” James said quickly. “Fred... and Hugo.”

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. “That... that makes sense.”

James offered an apologetic smile. “Sorry. Should’ve said. I know Lily is so excited to go...”

“Please look after her,” he said. “Especially if she’s in Gryffindor.”

James scoffed. “Like she would let me!”

“Good point,” he said. He sighed, he couldn’t help being anxious for his youngest to go. “Just be there when she needs. She’s smart enough to ask for help if she has to.”

James nodded. “I will.”

“Get ready, make sure all is packed. Breakfast will be ready in a bit.” He stood up, ignoring the cracking noise his knee made.

“Hey, dad.”

Harry turned back around. “Yes?”

James scratched his neck awkwardly. “Remember those snitch-shaped fried eggs you made for all of us when I went off to Hogwarts the first time? I think Lily would like that.”

He grinned. “I’ll whip up some snitch eggs for everyone.”

“Dad, come here!” Lily said from the open bathroom door.

He walked in to see Ginny braiding Lily’s hair.

“Is it pretty?” Lily asked excitedly.

He locked eyes with Ginny in the mirror for a moment and then looked back at their daughter, both wearing nearly identical smiles. “Yes, I love it.”

Harry made his way downstairs and started on breakfast. It took some time to get the egg shapes right. Egg yolk in the middle, the whites of the egg acting like the snitch’s wings. Ginny snuck up on him and he turned around to kiss her.

“Where’s Lily?” he asked.

Ginny blushed. “I told her and James to let some steam off in the garden. I instructed her under no circumstances she was allowed to take James to the pond to help her get frog spawn for revenge. Absolutely not.”

“We’re such good parents,” Harry said with a grin.

#james sirius #lily luna #ginny #harry #hinny #hinnymicrofic #fic

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destinygoldenstar · 2 months ago

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I'm calling it right now, these are NOT the actual character's severed heads.

Don't worry, nothing happened to them. No one got decapitated.

I trust the show at this point to say that these AREN'T just there for the scream energy and nightmare fuel and there's actually something plot significant to the episode going on here.

And it DOESN'T involve any of these characters ending up like this.

MY THEORY is that these things are fake. They were made by the ghosts of the mansion as an IMPRESSION and THEORY on what the Digital Circus characters are actually like. Kinda like an exaggerated campfire story.

"This is what these Digital Circus freaks are like!"

So my theory is this: As much as the Circus Gang is afraid of the ghosts, the GHOSTS are afraid of THEM. Because they're 'humans' technically, and they're just trying to protect themselves from a myth about humans. (I mean how would they know what real life humans are like? They're NPCs. Their only intake is that humans are these freakish cartoon characters)

AFTER ALL, we did see in the trailer that there are human corpses here. So who knows what happened.

I think these are just there for the aesthetic (I mean, THAT'S A GIVEN, it's world made by Caine) but also to tell a story about these ghost NPCs and their poor experience and exposure to humans.

We also see in the drawer that Pomni opens up that it's all drawings of HUMANS.

And who would give these ghosts this impression?

THE TAPE RECORDER.

It's my strong belief that this thing is indeed, ALIVE, and using it's 'video knowledge' to paint these false narrative delusions for the ghosts to make them act this way.

And this seems like something that plays a factor on the adventure as well. With Kinger and his pillow fort. (Which, obviously, SHOULDN'T BE THERE)

That also makes sense for Kinger and his more schizophrenic traits as a bit of a therapy session for him to not only understand his trauma (whatever it may be) and also find ways to discern the 'full picture' on what's real and what's not.

Now I am not schizophrenic, so anyone who is, please clarify that experience.

I ALSO think this may be HINTS to the outside world. I HIGHY doubt there'd be any exposure in this episode aside from lip service hints, but if THIS is the NPC's depictions of humans. And they were created by CAINE. Who's to say this is how CAINE views humanity from the outside? (I Have No Mouth And I Must Scream) And THIS is why, with whoever humans enter the realm, he is as controlling but also ATTEMPTING to 'Help' quote on quote as he is.

This could also reveal some stuff with his Zooble therapy session as he tries to understand them.

ANYWAY, CAN'T WAIT FOR THIS THEORY TO BE COMPLETELY INCORRECT ON FRIDAY! CAN'T WAIT!!

#the amazing digital circus #amazing digital circus #digital circus #tadc kinger #tadc caine #tadc theory

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missblissy · 1 year ago

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The Painter - Astarion X Reader

Summary: While out shopping in the city you come across a strange book. You decide to give it a read and get a few ideas… Maybe this was something you should share with Astarion?

Warnings: 🤷🤷 There isn’t really anything to be worried about, maybe suggestive themes but?? It’s mostly pinning, angst, kind of intimacy 👀 GN! Tav as always tho UwU)/✨

A/N: 🔫💀 I am here to bring more non-sexual intimacy with Astarion because I love healing a traumatized man. The poem used later in the story must get its credit where it’s due, and is Acquainted with the Night by Robert Frost. As always, enjoy!

There are many things such a skill can be useful for. In time one can grow more fond of this technique with time and practice. A brush stroke can be equal of that to the hand caress along the inner thigh and bringing pleasure beyon-

“Hmm? Reading something new, I see?”

The binds of your book screamed out as the pages slapped such, cover to cover, while your skin nearly jumped off your own bones, “Astarion! H-hey!”

Peering over your shoulder from the back of the couch was the keeper of your heart and destroyer of any sense of sanity you had left. Astarion raised a cursed brow at you and leaned a little closer. The night was young and the floors below the Elf Song rang with customers coming and going as they pleased. Thankful the top floor was all to yourself but still, the liveliness below could still be heard.

“Why aren’t you down stairs with everyone else?” You asked as you set the book down beside you, even managing to slip it between the pillows and cushions.

Most of the others had joined the music and drinking below, Astarion was down there the last you checked, getting into some kind of heated debate with Wyll and Gale about who could flip a coin better. Sometimes those three could be so…

You shook the thought away as Astarion crawled over the back of the couch and smoothly sat down beside you, “Well I came looking for you of course,” He gave a wave of his hand then a side look, “You don’t normally hide away reading,”

There was a soft laugh from you and a half shrug, “We’ve been here for weeks now. There is only so much fun a drunken tavern can provide, and spending every night down there isn’t my cup of tea,”

“Hm, you’re no fun. What’s another night of drunken debauchery?” Astarion teased with a nudge of his shoulder into yours, but you gave a little shake of your head and he got his answer, “Fine, fine~” He sang out then threw his arms behind his head as he stretched, “One boring night, coming right up,”

You knew he was only teasing and meant nothing by it. Seeing as the flicker of amusement in the corner of his eye told you he would rather be up here with you anyways.

Without a second thought or a slight of hesitation, Astarion made himself comfortable. He laid down with his head in your lap, you letting out a little giggle as he shoved your hands out of the way to make room for himself. His feet dangled off the arm of the couch and he shuffled a bit as he kicked off his boots.

“So, tell me about this book you're reading, my love. I’ve seen your nose in it since we left that book shop,” Almost as if by instinct, your fingers started combing through his white curls, “It must be a terribly lascivious fantasy, no?”

You could hear the little giggle bubbling behind his words as he spoke as well. How many times has he mentioned the book now and you’ve just ignored him? “It’s not that kind of book,” You didn’t stop playing with his hair, but you did look away with a faint blush. If he was going to be persistent about it then you had little choice to put up a fight.

He started to reach over toward the book tucked beside you but you slapped his hand repeatedly, “It’s not that kind of book,” You huffed then grabbed it for yourself. Just to prove your point you leafed through the pages then stopped on a specific one.

To say it wasn’t just any kind of book would be an understatement. You held the book open and showed Astarion. On the page was a simple diagram. Well… perhaps not simple.

The vampire spawn tilted his head a little, not exactly sure what he was looking at. Slowly he lifted his hands up and held the book open himself, “That pain priest really did a number on you back then, huh?”

“In a way, yes. But… Not exactly,” You said, while gazing at the page as well. It was hand drawn by someone tied up, very tied up, and very restrained, hanging from bounds of ropes off a ceiling. You flipped to an earlier page, one that shows exactly what knots where needed to achieve such a complex picture.

You then flipped a few pages back, “You did too,” You were hesitant to say those words, but there was no reason to lie. Nothing good came from it so why hide. You stopped on a different picture with a person fully in the nude but covered head to toe in painted on words. Then to another page that required both you an Astarion to nearly tilt your heads in a 90 degree angle to get a better look at whatever it was you were seeing.

A moment of silence passed and Astarion narrowed his gaze softly with a raised brow and looked up at you, “What is this book?” He closed it and looked at the cover, no title, then the spine, nothing. He went to the first page and only found a table of contents.

You gentle took it from his grasp and started fingering through it, to somewhere in the middle where the title was hidden, “Peculiar Pleasures,”

Astarion sat up fully, his head no longer in your lap as he straightened out beside you, “What did you mean, when you said you did too?” There was a slow growth of worry on his face, like he was about to be in trouble.

But you have a quick wave of your hand to dispel such worries, “Nothing bad,” You softly smiled and placed a gentle hand on his, he quickly took it but still had a silent question in his face waiting for you to explain, “I…” You started, not exactly sure where to start, “… I Was looking through the books at the shop, just wandering about. I saw this book, and it reminded me of you. And what you said about this kind of stuff feeling… Tainted?”

He didn’t say much but he did raise a brow and held an open hand out with a curl of his fingers. You passed the book to him and watched as those same fingers flipped pages with care and curiosity.

Still a little frazzled, you felt your shoulders tense up and rise to your neck while letting out a nervous laugh, “I just thought it was interesting…” You started to ring your fingers together with that same empty laugh, “And maybe this book could, I don’t know… It’s sex without sex!” You blurted out louder and than you expected then got yourself all sorts of frazzled, “Like… ya know… that kind of stuff. I just thought-”

“You thought it could help,” His voice was cool like ice and just as slick, “That’s very sweet of you,” You finally looked at him to see a smile in the corner of his lips. He leaned into the distance between you two and placed a kiss on your cheek, “I’d like to keep this for awhile, if you don’t mind,”

“You actually want to read it?” The surprise in your voice was hard to hide, why wouldn’t you be? You gave him an odd look full of questions regardless.

He gave you another side look, one more playful as he turned to full face you with a tip of his head slightly to the side. Your noses barely touched as he smirked, “I’m just reading it, love, we aren’t doing anything,” It was cruel of him to flirt like this, and to give such a teasing tone.

It made the tips of your ears burn and your cheeks match, “I know!” You huffed and turned away sharply, “I mean- well. Good.” You smoothed out your shirt as some form of distraction or action to seem casual, “I’m glad you like it then,”

A soft laugh escaped his lips and you felt a smile tug at your lips. Soon the giggles came from you both. Astarion raised an arm, inviting you in by his side and you quickly took the offer, snuggling up and resting against his chest, “How far have you gotten? I shouldn’t have that much to catch up on,” With how fast he reads? It’d only take him a few hours you guessed.

Astarion opened the book again once you had both gotten comfortable on the couch. With a shrug you told him, “I’m not that far, maybe a few chapters?”

“Wonderful,” His grin was cheeky, “Means you don’t have much rereading to do,”

A curious brow was raised on your face, “Oh?”

He snuggled himself closer and began flipping to the first few pages, “Of course, everything I could want is right here,” His voice was laced like honey, sickeningly sweet, “Why would I bother leaving?” He teased, “A beautiful paramour by my side, a saucy book for the ages, and the rest of the night to ourselves,” A stray hand of his began combing through your hair, all the while he focused on skimming pages with ease. It was rather perfect.

You let out a little hum, “You have a point,” The curl of his fingers through your hair was enlightening yet calming. It was like a call of tranquility. Another hum as your eyes fluttered shut, “Wake me when you get to chapter 4? Around page… I don’t know, half way through,” To hells with him if he thought you’d reread the damn chapters a second time.

“Mhm,” Was his simply and soft reply, then followed but the subtle turn of a page. He never stopped twirling curls of your hair between his fingers, something of a rhythmic pattern that was predictable and pleasant.

Sometimes you’d get pulled from the lull when he’d pause, his hand stopped and a strange chuckle could be heard escaping his chest. Even peaking an eye open you could already tell what he was reading. You saw a silly but errotic picture from before, someone clad with no clothes being tickled by countless feathers and… other peculiar things. You laughed at that one too.

Or a few pages later there would be an image of someone experimenting with entire blocks of ice and nothing else, or toying with magic in stranger ways than normal. Even a few pages were dedicated to the art of chanting and just calling out sounds and how to seek orgasmic pleasure from just screaming. Though you couldn’t deny, some things in the pages seemed entirely thrilling. It was indeed a book of peculiar pleasures.

So the half chuckles and chortles from Astarion every so often put a smile on your face. Though you still drifted in and out of a half sleep, despite the ruckus downstairs still raging on. After some time with a vampire you grew to love the coolness that always radiated from Astarion, like a freezer, he was naturally chilled and cool to the touch.

After a while however you felt a little jostle on your shoulder. Then more of a shake. Your eyes shot open and for a split second you were expecting a surprise attack. It was just your beloved vampire, though, seeing as you nearly forgot with your little power nap, “Star-bite..?” You yawned the nickname and rubbed some sleep out of your eyes.

You eyes flickered to the book beside you, still in his hands, you noticed he was nearly to where you left off, he only had a couple pages left to catch up though.

“This one,” Astarion’s voice surprised you, causing you to snap your head towards him. You caught a look of what could only be described as determination. He fully turned the book to you and pointed his finger to the page with an image you had already seen.

There was a drawing of a woman painting on herself. She was, keep in mind, nude, but her body was covered in runes and words alone. They covered her from head to toe. Your eyes traveled to the paragraph below, you still remember what it said.

Pleasure can come in many forms, this one being the pleasure of touch and grace while healing, and exploring the mind and body so intimately that nothing but a brush stroke is needed. This practice is known as The Painter. Its purpose is to form bonds either with yourself or with that who holds the brush. There are many things such a skill can be useful for. In time one can grow more fond of this technique and with practice. A brush stroke can be equal to that of a hand caressing along the inner thigh and bring pleasure beyond what a touch could ever do. Paint into you what you’ve always wanted to hear, or secrets you can’t keep any longer. You could even scribe poems, or runes, whatever means most to you.

“I want to try this one,” Astarion’s voice caused your mind and eyes to drag up to him.

You felt a rush of blood run to your cheeks as you forced an awkward laugh, “R-right now?” He couldn’t be serious. Your eyes flickered around the room, wondering if anyone had come up from the tavern yet.

Astarion only answered you with a quick and sharp nod of his head. Well then…

You blinked a few times, still somewhat surprised by his forwardness, “O-okay,” Then you said it again with more confidence, “Okay!” You shot up from the couch and looked around then made your way to the door, Astarion was close to follow behind you. He did manage to grab an ink well and a brush, however, as you managed to slip away to the solo suite down the hall. He had not forgotten the book either.

“So, what do you want painted on you?” You closed the door as he followed in, then turned and watched as he kept his nose in the book and sat down on the edge of the bed.

Without lifting his head, he raised only his ruby eyes and gave you a staunt look, “I was thinking a poem,” That was rather interesting, or so you thought. A little fitting even.

But you still had to ask, “Are you sure? I mean,” You made your way over to him, sitting side by side while taking the ink well and brush that we’re still tucked under his arm, “I only ask because it wasn’t that long ago we thought it was just a poem on your back,”

“I’m sure,” He closed the book with a swift snap as the pages shut together, “Besides,” He leaned a little closer to you with a smirk, “I get to choose what it says this time,”

A soft single giggle of a laugh escaped you. You then clicked your tongue with a little shake of your head, “Alright, where do you want to start?”

You watched as he proceeded to think, mule over what he wanted and what he didn’t want. Which was still a foreign concept to him that he hadn’t quite yet settled into. Eventually and with caution he said, “Let’s just start with my arm. I don’t think I’ve got enough words to cover me… Nor do I think I want to,” He gave a small and nervous, boyish chuckle at the end.

“Okay,” You nodded with a smile and waited as Astarion shed a few layers, then undone his shirt and exposed only his torso. You had nearly forgotten how beautiful he was, but only soaked in the view for a moment before giggling giddy with bubbles, “You talk, I write,” You hummed and dipped the tip of the brush into the ink, tapped away the loose drops, then hovered it over his one of his shoulders, waiting with anticipation.

His breathing slowed, and Astarion thought. He even closed his eyes trying to envision the words appearing on his own skin. Soft, but not a whisper, his voice traveled deep from his lungs. A strange sounding roughness filled his words.

“I have been one acquainted with the night.”

Slowly with each word, you carefully wrote every letter with deliberate delicacy, as if you were painting on the world’s thinnest canvas, ready to break under the smallest weight.

“I have walked out in rain—and back in rain. I have outwalked the furthest city light. I have looked down the saddest city lane.”

His voice carried a world hidden within it, one that you could only ever catch a glimpse of in moments like these. Each faint brush stroke along his skin sent small and welcomed shivers from each place the hairs prickled his skin. Astarion even had to take long moments between each entry, to give you time to scrawl down his tainted words.

It was incredibly intimate, much to his surprise. Especially when he’d turn his head just enough to see you, and see your hard stare more focused on the brush strokes of each word than staring back at him. He couldn’t explain it, but having your attention still be on him, but not actually looking at him…. His chest felt light and his blood began to pick up speed. Your focus filled eyes would only glance back up at him when you were ready for the next verse. It was enough to make his breath hitch, for the candle light to reflect stars in his eyes and turn his head away once again.

“I have passed by the watchman on his beat, and dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain. I have stood still and stopped to the sound of feet… When far away an interrupted cry came over houses from another street,”

You carefully worked down his arm, making your way to his wrist, to gently clasp it with your free hand and turn his arm over, palm facing up. There wasn’t a moment of lapse or pause as you continued on working your way up the other side of his unpainted arm. For you this was just as intimate. You could see the shift in his chest, the way his breathing would quicken and slow again depending on where the brush stoked along his skin. In all fairness, it was a learning experience, but still one that made your cheeks burn. Especially when you could feel him staring.

You were keen not to look back at him, or away from writing down his words. As much as you wanted to steal a glimpse, to see the half lidded look on his face, the glaze over of his eyes and the way his lips parted with each intentional word when he was speaking… As for now, all the two of you could hear was each other's shallow breathing, then of course Asterion's little quick in tack of air as you finished the verse and looked up at him waiting patiently.

“But not to call me back… or say good-bye… And further still at an unearthly height, one luminary clock against the sky proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right….” He paused, and waited, and even more still once you caught up. He said nothing for a moment, nothing at all. But soon he sighed out his next and final words as if they were more personal to him, as they were becoming words of affirmation rather than confirmation, “I have been one acquainted with the night,”

He didn’t move, and neither did you. You couldn’t place your finger on it, but you watched him slowly flutter his eyes close and take in a few low breaths. The ink on his skin had started to dry and you carefully traced your fingers over the black words once more. There wasn’t any tension between you two, rather, a longing.

You’re voice came as a subtle surprise to him, just to hear it that is, “I have become one acquainted with the night,” You echoed, still tracing the words along his arm, “It’s a beautiful poem,” You leaned closer and place a light and loving kiss on his shoulder, “And a little sad,”

Hearing so made a bittersweet smile curl onto Astarion lips and he breathed out a soft and low hum of a laugh, the kind that came from his nose as he sighed along with it. He tipped his head towards yours, a loving nudge as he nuzzled his cheek against the top of your head, “It is sad, but true,”

“Hmm,” You smiled a little more as he placed a kiss on your forehead. You fell into each other, into a loose embrace by simply enjoying the closeness. You still traced your fingers lightly along his painted arm, then softly gave a loose chuckle, “You know this doesn’t look to bad,” You gentle lifted his arm, in the process you hooked your arm around his and locked yourself at the elbow while slipping your hand into his, “I bet you’d be able to pull of tattoos if you wanted,” A banter was in your voice, light and airy.

A quick laugh came from him, and he raised an eyebrow at you, “You think so?” His giggle was laced into his words, he peered down along his arm and took a moment to imagine the words being replaced with more permanent art, “Is that your way of saying you’d like me more with ink?” The tease in his voice was harmless and playful.

With a dramatic, “Noo!” You nudged your shoulder into his, swaying a little together as you each laughed, “Only if you wanted to, of course. I like you just as you are,” Though you wouldn’t mind at all… the back of your mind flashed you images of Astarion honestly covered with tattoos.. hmph.

Astarion placed a little kiss along the side of your temple to ease his teasing and said, “Honestly I’ve never considered them before. The idea of a needle poking me for hours on end sounds like torture… Though…” He looked back down at his arm, gave it a little twist and a full view as he admired the words, “You are right, I do look pretty good,” He smirked with sharp teeth.

You burst into a fit of giggles and nodded your head along with him, “You really do,” You gestured back to the brush and ink well beside you, “I can do more if you like?”

His eyes flickered to follow your hand then he gave a little shake of his head, “This is a good start, for now,” He reached over and took your hand in his, bringing the back of it to his lips and placing a tender kiss against your skin, “Thank you. For doing this, I mean,” Then he gave a cheeky little shrug and a slight harmless roll of his eyes, “And maybe for getting the book too… I… I think I needed this,”

“Of course,” Your brows knitted together but with a sweetness as you place a hand on his cheek, “Of course!” You repeated with emphasis, placing a kiss on his forehead and pressing yours to his, noses just brushes against each other while you humed, “Anything for you, my sweet Star-bite,”

#x reader #fanfic #baldur's gate 3 #astarion #bg3 #astarion x reader #astarion ancunin #reader instert #astarion x tav #Astarion x you #blissy writes #bg3 tav #gn reader #gn tav

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stellar-constellations · 1 year ago

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An Alliance (Part 7)

Fem! Spy! (Y/N) x Yuri Briar

Parts: One, two, three, four, five, six, current part, eight, nine, ten (to be continued when Spy x Family has more Yuri content!)

(Y/N) is given her own backstory that is important for the story!

The setting for this story is based off West and East Germany's (because Spy x Family is heavily based off Germany in the 1940-1950) laws (or at least replicated to the best of my abilities since it's unknown what time period Spy x Family is exactly in, we'll go with 1950 for the sake of this story).

Historically-accurate women misogyny and mistreatment! Only small comments and historically-accurate laws (replicated to the best of my ability).

The story, plot, and settings might not match up to the Spy x Family manga as it's not completed and the manga is still being crafted.

This series contains spoilers for the manga and anime!

The alarm rang and I groaned, covering my head with the sheets as Yuri got out of bed and turned it off.

"Ugh. I have a killer headache." He groaned.

"Then come back to sleep with me... You can miss a day..." I muttered.

"You're a bad influence..." he sighed.

I felt the covers lift and was surprised when he actually climbed back into bed.

Oh? Am I gonna get to sleep in?! I thought, excitement taking over me.

I sighed happily—glad to be able to sleep in—especially after last night's events. I carefully tested the waters, wrapping my arms around Yuri and digging my face in his chest to block out the sunlight from the curtains. He hugged back, making me even happier as I felt myself starting to drift back to sleep.

"WAIT!" he screamed loudly, jumping out of bed and looking at me like I was a virus.

"Really, Yuri?" I whined.

"YOUR CHARMS MAY WORK ON OTHER MEN, BUT I AM NOT LIKE THEM! I WON'T BE EASILY FOOLED BY TEMPTATIONS, YOU TEMPTRESS WITCH!" he wailed loudly, pointing an accusatory finger at me.

"What the hell are you talking about...?" I muttered.

"Your spells of enticement won't work on me! I have work!" he shouted.

"Ugh. I can't believe you're actually going to work with a hangover, you goodie-two-shoes." I whined, tearing up in my eyes. "And you're dragging me with to a job I don't get paid for. That's just mean, Yuri." I pointed over, shoving my face in his pillow.

"You do get paid for it! And you can't use those charms on me— wait, a-are you actually crying...?" he muttered.

"No..." I spoke, my voice muffled in the pillow as I breathed in his comforting scent to lure me back to sleep.

"H-hey! Stop crying and get ready!" he scolded, picking up the covers from me.

"You're mean..." I mumbled to myself, getting up and stretching my arms.

"Y-you're so damn oblivious." He spoke, his face flaring up.

"What's gotten you excited?" I questioned, wiping the tears from my eyes as I started to get over not sleeping in.

"I'M NOT EXCITED!" he shouted. "And when you stretch in the mornings, y-you should cover your bottom half, or at least get a longer nightgown, or pants." he mumbled softly.

"Oh." I spoke, looking down at my legs then smirking evilly once I realized what he meant. "Yuri's a pervert, huh?"

"I AM NOT! YOU FLASHED ME WITHOUT CONSENT!" he screamed.

"And I'll do it again, but worse if you keep yelling at me this early in the morning." I spoke calmly as his face bursted into red.

I was worried he'd turn blue by the way he'd stopped breathing for a second. He regained his senses, coughing into his palm and looking away.

"You're such a brat, just hurry up and get ready." He ordered.

"Or we could stay in bed all day. Together." I emphasized, smirking as he screamed.

"You're the pervert here; not me!" he shouted, running to the bathroom and shutting the door.

I quickly changed, brushing my hair and laying down on the bed, waiting for Yuri to hurry up. He walked out and I immediately smiled.

"So, Yuri. You have a thing for crying or something?" I chuckled. "Funny with your job with torture and all."

"NO!" he shouted, his face getting red.

"And you like thighs best?" I teased more, taking a wild guess as he screamed loudly, grabbing a pillow and chucking it at me.

"SHUT UP!" he shouted.

I laughed, catching the pillow and hugging it to my chest, enjoying his reaction as he screamed at how stupidly lewd I was.

"It's okay, Yuri. I don't mind that I caught you staring. You're my husband after all." I teased.

"I SAID SHUT UP!" he yelled, red in the face.

"I'm supposed to know what makes you tick. Besides, you're cute enough to let it slide." I chuckled, loving this way too much.

Maybe I am a sadist.

He covered his face with his arm, looking away from me.

"What? Did you enjoy the view?" I questioned, deciding to leave it as the final teasing comment as his face went even impossibly redder.

He coughed into his arm again, taking a deep breath and staring at me blankly.

So what if I did?" he questioned.

"I...what?" I spoke, my heart beating fast.

"So what if I did?" he repeated, taking a step towards me.

"Ah! No! Teasing is my thing!" I exclaimed as his eyes lit up evilly, covering my vision with my pillow, afraid of how red my face would be.

"What? Once I respond back, you decide to get shy?" he questioned.

He pulled the pillow down from my face. Seeing him closer to me as my heart beat faster and my mind to malfunction.

"Ah!" I yelped quickly clutching onto the pillow tighter and covering my face with it again, only for it to be ripped down from my field of vision again.

"I think that's not far. Don't you deserve a punishment?" he questioned, getting closer to me

I screamed loudly, shoving the pillow in his face and shaking his hand off me, running out of the bedroom and screaming: "YURI'S A HUGE PERVERT!"

"What?! You're the one that started it first! I just gave you a taste of your own medicine!" he declared, chasing after me.

"YOU MADE ME ENHALE APHRODISIACS OR SOMETHING!" I screamed, running around the apartment to get away from him.

"I DID NOT! DON'T GO SCREAMING AROUND THE APARTMENT SAYING THAT!" he yelled.

We made it to the agency and clocked in, walking down the many hallways.

"Second-lieutenant! Mrs. Lieutenant!" we both turned around, confused.

Am I Mrs. Lieutenant? That makes me sound a little old.

"Morning, Lieutenant!" we both spoke, saluting.

I think I'm getting accustomed to their traditions. I thought, smiling proudly.

"The boss wanted you to interrogate a potential spy in interrogation room four, Mrs. Lieutenant. He said for you to specifically act motherly, possibly to bring their guard down or something." The Lieutenant spoke.

"Yes, sir." I saluted.

"Second-lieutenant, you're in charge of watching the investigation." The lieutenant spoke.

"Yes, sir." Yuri saluted.

"Report back to the boss afterwards. You're both dismissed." Lieutenant spoke, handing me a packet.

Me and Yuri nodded, then walked down the hallways as I scared through the document.

"I'm going to show you how good of a mother I can be for our kids." I teased, stretching my arms.

"Don't you ever say that again." He deadpanned, a disgusted look on his face.

He led the way to the room and before opening the door, I slapped his hand gently.

"Not yet. Just trust me when we're in there, alright?" I spoke.

Yuri looked at me confused, then nodded.

This isn't the first time I played the mother role. I've used the skill to bring out information from others whilst their act their weakest. It's dirty, but I think I can bring down this person's guard.

I knocked on the door three times, then walked in as Yuri looked at me, intrigued to see what my methods would be.

"Hello, hun. You're Zeni Houston, right?" I questioned, taking a seat in front of the man.

The man was young and timid, looking around nervously.

Oh. I got this.

Yuri sat on the sidelines near the transcriber as Zeni nervously tapped the desk.

"Don't worry, I don't plan on hurting you. Believe it or not, I'm not a fan of violence much." I smiled, forcing my voice to be soft and not projecting.

"Then why are you working here?" he quickly retorted.

"I'm here to find the truth about this war and about the government." I responded.

"The government lies!" he shouted, then covered his mouth. "Sorry, sorry!"

"No, no, love. It's okay." I smiled as Yuri huffed, sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms as I briefly looked at him, before focusing my attention back to Zeni. "I'm aware the government lies, but I like to pay special attention to the information we're given, from the government, from Westalis, and from the people I interrogate such as yourself. In order to... even out this cracked ground we're tip-toeing on, I need your help."

"Really?" he questioned.

"Of course." I hummed, tapping my finger lightly on the desk to mimic his actions from earlier. "Do you have any nicknames?" I questioned. "I don't really like the awkward atmosphere around us."

Zeni shook his head: "No. I don't have any nicknames."

"Can I make one for you?" I questioned.

"I mean... I guess?" he muttered, hesitate.

"What do you think of Zen-Zen? Or just Zen. Or Ni?" I suggested.

"I think I like Zen best." He smiled nervously.

"Alright, Zen. Now, is it alright if I ask you questions about your home life? You're allowed to keep personal information private, but if you do decide to lie to me while answering any questions I have, I'll know and I will unfortunately have to take you to my boss." I explained. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am." He gulped.

"Very well, Zen. Let's get started." I spoke, placing my hands on my lap to make myself appear smaller and motherly in hopes of making him open up. "Did you have both parents growing up?" I questioned. "If yes, are one or both still alive?"

"Yeah. They're still alive." He nodded.

"Are they split or are they together?" I questioned.

"They're still together." He answered. "Twenty-eight years now."

"That's quite a while. Was their relationship healthy? For example, they rarely fought in front of you two and they spent time alone together such as going on dates." I suggested.

"It was fairly healthy." He answered.

"That's lovely. I didn't have both parents around growing up, but if they were still here, I would visit them every weekend." I confessed. "How about you, Zen? How often do you visit your parents?" I questioned.

"Mostly for the holidays, but every now and then I stop by and say hi. My parents live far up on the East side of Ostania while I live here because of my job." He answered.

"I see. What do you work as?" I asked.

"I'm a constructor. To be specific, I fix the houses and buildings that were destroyed from the bombings." He spoke, becoming skittish as he mentioned the war.

"Oh! Why didn't you tell me sooner?" I questioned. "If I'd know that, I would've congratulated you! I'm really thankful of the hours and dedication you put into our country. That field uses a lot of math, but I'm really bad at it, so I think it's really special that you're able to use those complicated formulas to help house people and communities alike."

"It was complicated at first. I went to a university so I could study it since I was bad at it too." He admitted sheepishly.

"I see. What university did you go to?" I questioned.

"Garten University." He spoke.

"Garten University? As in, the one where you need a GPA over 4.0 to even fill out the application sheet?" I spoke, gawking at him.

This guy? A scrawny, wobbly, 5'4" man working in construction and having a degree in mathematics? He sure is something!

"Yeah. It's a little embarrassing." He sighed.

"How so?" I questioned.

"Because people naturally assumed I snuck in or paid my way through since I don't look like somebody who'd work in the construction field." He admitted.

"To be honest with you, Zen, I really thought you worked in Foreign Ministry or as an accountant doing paperwork. It shows that I should've listened more when they say 'don't judge a book by its cover'." I laughed, getting Zen to slip up and chuckle.

He's warming up. Good.

"I'm really impressed that you've made yourself such a successful person, really. That's a lot of dedication and patience to do what you do, I'm really proud of you." I smiled, causing Zen to fluster up.

"T-thank you, ma'am, but it's really nothing." He stammered.

He's not used to compliments. I can use that to get info out of him.

"Do you have any siblings?" I questioned.

"No. I'm an only child." He answered.

"Woah, that must've been lonely, huh?" I asked.

"A bit, but I had many friends I'd go outside and play with." He spoke.

"What did you like to do with your friends? I liked to ride my bike with my friends growing up." I confessed.

"I liked to play tag with my friends. I also enjoyed playing cops and robbers, w-which is a bad taste of irony now." Zen chuckled nervously, clamming up in his shell.

"Yes! I used to play that too." I spoke, faking my enthusiasm to keep him open. "I was always the fastest runner when playing, yet I always tripped and got caught." I laughed.

"I was always the one calling out 'time out'." He admitted, flustered.

"Oh. So you're the one making the game harder than it needs to be." I joked, then laughed. "That's okay, we all have our limits, at least you knew yours."

"Yeah." He smiled.

"Now. What was your first job?" I asked. "I helped a nice woman in my hometown bakery for some change when I was six. I even learned how to make her chocolate chip cookies."

"I'm more of a peanut butter cookie type." Zen smiled. "I worked in a bike shop when I was eleven—it was my dad's bike shop actually."

"Ah. It wasn't in your ideals to take over?" I questioned.

"It blew up in one of the bombings." He spoke, a sad smile on his face. "But luckily, me and my family were visiting my grandparents at the time it happened, so we didn't get hurt."

"I see." I nodded. "Do you enjoy your current job now?" I questioned.

"Well, I like to build the buildings, sometimes I can even upgrade the buildings from the original design with a little imagination and signature from my boss and the employer, but it's sad to see the after result of war. Sometimes, I'd find dead bodies inside the rubble. I can't stand the smell of dead things, but the sight of it makes me puke my guts out." He admitted, a sorrowful expression on his face.

"It's never fun to see what us humans have created." I sighed. "What company do you work at?" I questioned.

"Bau des Herzogs" Zeni spoke.

“Is there any coworkers or employees you hate there? Such as your boss, a coworker who complains too much; stuff like that?” I questioned. "Or perhaps the other way around? Someone having it out for you?"

“No. I don’t really talk with the other employees. I feel a little out of place since I’m so young compared to them.” He admitted shyly.

“Ah. I feel that one.” I laughed. “You live alone?” I questioned.

“I have my cat that keeps me company.” He smiled.

“Aw, cute! What is it’s name?” I asked.

“Dough...” He mumbled, embarrassed. “I-I picked the name when I was thirteen and decided to keep it when I got older!”

He’s certainly quick to avoid looking stupid, I thought and smiled.

“It’s a adorable name! I should ask my husband to get a cat or dog.” I spoke, lying.

I heard Yuri let out a choked splutter, before coughing, making Zeni turn his attention to him and the documenter, immediately making him quiet.

Damn. I thought. I was doing so good too.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” I questioned. “Or a boyfriend, I don’t judge.” I quickly spoke.

He looked at me weird—probably confused on why I would ask if he had a boyfriend since our times are pretty homophobic towards that—before speaking.

“Ah, no… but there’s a girl I’ve been crushing on for a while.” He confessed.

“Really? Is she pretty?” I questioned.

“I like to think so. But what I like most about her is that she’s really kind. Like, kind enough to if you ask her to help you look for your dog, she would search until sunset then go back home and grab a flashlight to continue looking.” He rambled.

“She sounds lovely. I wish you the best.” I smiled.

Nothing. He‘a absolutely innocent. Which dumbass decided to even reported him?

“Alright, Zen. We’re pretty much done here.” I spoke, leaning back in my chair and stretching my arms.

“R-really?” he questioned.

“Yeah. You’ve innocent. You haven’t lied to me once.” I shrugged my shoulders carelessly.

“How do you know?” he questioned.

“What? You wanna confess and make me look like I fool?” I spoke.

“N-no, ma’am! I was… expecting to die… honestly.” He admitted, squeezing his fingers together tightly.

“I told you, I don’t like violence. And besides, you’re an innocent person, I have no intention to hurt you.” I sighed.

Yuri stood up from his chair, flabbergasted as the documenter looked shocked himself.

“(Y/—“ Yuri immediately stopped himself from saying his name. “Ah, Mrs. Lieutenant!” he exclaimed. “Y-you can’t be serious! H-he did something to gain enough suspicion to be reported; he’s guilty!” Yuri spoke.

“You’re stupid.” I spoke bluntly, causing everyone to look at me even more shocked.

“Second-Lieutenant, with all due respect, I believe in innocent until proven guilty. Zen here hasn’t done nothing wrong, he’s just a shy and timid person whose single—that is what got him reported, because people aren’t allowed to be themselves and they aren’t allowed to keep secrets in fear of the government.” I rambled. “Zen is innocent, and if you have a problem with my verdict, we can skip together hand-in-hand and talk with the boss about this as we kiss and make up.” I smiled, clapping my hands. “Would you like that, love?”

“I mean... N-no…?” he muttered, face red as he looked down at the ground.

“Very well. I’ll lead you out, Zen.” I spoke, opening up the door.

Zen followed, nervous as Yuri quickly tailed us, not daring to keep us out of site.

“Do you have a ride home?” I questioned Zen as we navigated throughout the hallways.

“No, ma’am.” He answered.

“We’ll get a taxi called for you.” I spoke, walking down the halls and to the front office.

I told the office clerk to call a taxi as I waited outside with Zen to make sure he was safe here. Yuri didn’t seem happy as he leaned on the brick wall with his arms crossed and glaring daggers at Zen.

“Ignore him, dear.” I quickly spoke. “He just wants my attention.” I teased as Yuri huffed, angry at my comment.

I made small talk with Zen before the taxi finally arrived here.

"Bye, Zen! Have a safe trip and good luck on the girl, hon." I waved as he hopped into the taxi, waving back before leaving.

I immediately turned my attention back to Yuri, smiling as he looked at me angrily.

"Something wrong, love?" I smirked.

"You want the ice cream sample, or the whole document?" he questioned.

"I don't know. What do we have the time for?" I questioned.

"The whole fucking document." He grumbled. "First, you kept calling him pet names. Second, you extracted absolutely no information and even let him leave. Third, your approach was soft and held absolutely no threat. Fourth, what are you gonna tell the Director? And fifth, I know he didn't use it, but you gave him the option to withhold information." Yuri explained, using his fingers to exaggerate. "Would you like more? That was the first paragraph of the six pages."

"And here's my argumentative essay to your thesis." I frowned. "First, I used those names to trick his brain to thinking we're close. Second, I received no suspicious information because not everyone that's brought into the office is a Westalis spy. I didn't recognize his name, face, or voice, and I, not you, would be the one knowing if he was a spy since I was one. Third, my approach was like that because I was assigned the motherly role straight from the Director. If I used violence or threats, it would've clammed him up with information he wouldn't release; because he'd be scared that once you hurt him for some info and he spills, you'll hurt him for some more. Fourth, I'm gonna tell the Director straight up that Zeni Houston is innocent. And fifth, I gave him the option to withhold information because it's a psychology trick. If you give someone one option they don't like; they're less likely to do it rather than give them two options that could benefit them." I took a deep breath, done explaining.

"Alright. Now, let's see what the boss says about that." Yuri spoke, grabbing my arm roughly.

I pushed down the anger in my gut, deciding it'd be best to just follow him.

If the Director gets mad, and I die, then I guess I die. Though, it would really suck, especially after I told Twilight how I want to live and have a family. I thought, resisting the urge to smile at the irony if the situation did come to be that.

We made it to the office, knocking on the door and hearing confirmation almost immediately.

"Hello, you two!" the Director greeted cheerfully as me and Yuri both saluted, saying our own hellos.

"I got the info from Zeni Houston, and I've come to the conclusion that he's innocent." I spoke.

"That's great— wait, huh?" the Director immediately replied.

"I've also sent him home." I added.

"Huh?!" the Director exclaimed. "Y-you just did that without permission?!"

"I did. There a problem to that?" I questioned.

"Well... yeah?!" the Director blurted. "Completely out of line, not to mention your life is on the line for this!" He spoke.

I looked at Yuri, seeing him glare at me with a smile, happy that he was right.

"I'm aware." I responded, ignoring the audacity that he'd believe I've forgotten that. "Sir, I did exactly what you wanted me to do; I interviewed him and stayed in a motherly role just as you requested. I held no bias in this situation, nor did I ever resort to unnecessary violence. I never once recognized or suspected him as a member of WISE. He never lied once, he was honest and willing to cooperate. This was just simply a normal citizen being report due to their closeted nature and timidness; I'm sure this isn't the first time it's happened, though I doubt you and your men are smart enough to have enough common sense to come to the conclusion."

"You have balls. They're imaginary, but they are there." The Director spoke, then laughed, a smile on his face as I chuckled at the random comment.

"I'm sure you can request the transcription from the transcriber there. I assume the room was bugged with a secret camera too and microphone too, so you can check that out if you don't believe me." I suggested.

"I'm a little mad, but I'm a little impressed too. I'll look over the footage just to make sure, though. No hard feelings." The Director smiled.

"Of course, sir." I smiled.

"Good work. Now, anything else?" he questioned.

"No, sir." I spoke, looking at Yuri.

Yuri looked shocked, devastated, angry, and frustrated all at once.

He's even more cynical than me, and that's shocking since it's me.

"Come on, love." I spoke, grabbing his arm and dragging him out of the Director's office. "We have work!"

"I can't believe you, brat..." he grumbled.

"What?" I questioned as we walked down the hallway.

"You got out of trouble scott-free! I don't think I'd even be able to get away with that!" he grumbled, keeping his voice down to not alert our co-workers of the argument.

"I'm just good at making two and two work." I smiled. "It's a pretty useful skill I learned."

"Yeah! And I'm mad it worked!" Yuri hissed.

"Aw. Don't worry, love. It'll rub off on you...maybe..." I mumbled the last bit to myself.

"Huh? Say something, brat?" Yuri challenged.

"No, sir." I answered.

THIRD PERSON POINT OF VIEW! (Author's note: I found the internal dialogue in this chapter to be hilarious and there's no way I could cut it out!)

It's been a week and a day since (Y/N) met Yuri. In that time, (Y/N)’s already exhausted of SSS work. Interrogations, collecting data, stopping shootings, and even another assassin attempt on the minister feels just too similar to working at the Westalis Intelligence for her liking.

Yor called and asked if Yuri could tutor their daughter, Anya Forger. Yuri agreed, and (Y/N)’s being forced to follow since he still doesn't trust her alone.

To say Yuri was excited to see his big sister was an understatement, he was absolutely bouncing up and down the walls, skipping on the way and almost tripping on his face if it wasn't for (Y/N) holding onto him.

I wonder, if my siblings were still alive, would they be excited to see me like that? (Y/N) thought. Doubt it. Plus, if it was Yuri’s level, it’d be really creepy.

They made it to the familiar building and door. Yuri slammed the door open, causing (Y/N) to stare, shocked. Why the door was unlocked, (Y/N)’s not sure if idea if it was brute strength or a flimsy lock but it sure opened.

“I’m at your service, sis!” Yuri shouted loudly.

“Ack!” (Y/N) exclaimed, shocked at his boldness and audacity to just do that in a building where others live. “Sorry for not knocking!” she immediately bowed.

“Oh! No worries! You’re both family after all! It’s good to see you both!” Yor smiled.

“Nice to have you back, Yuri and (Y/N).” Loid greeted.

“Hmph.” Yuri sighed, giving Loid the cold shoulder.

“Anya, this is my little brother, Yuri. And this is (Y/N), Yuri’s wife, so my sister-in-law.” Yor introduced.

The kid was small. There’s no way she’s six. But she has really cute eyes and hair. I like her weird cone accessories, though I’ve never seen them before. Is this the new generations sense of fashion? (Y/N) thought intensely.

Anya seemed to have cold feet, hiding behind Loid’s feet, yet spoke: “I’m Papa’s daughter, Anya. Nice to meet you.” She spoke, a slight childish tone and mispronunciation of words.

Aw! Cute! (Y/N) thought. Even though she’s not Twilight’s biological daughter, I can tell that she does think of him as one! That’s so cute! Would my children be this cute?! I hope! Obviously not with Yuri, he’d probably be a really confusing father. I don’t ever see him actually getting married to anyone, I’m just “married” with him so I can live. I hope I’d find someone to actually live soon though.

Yuri stared intensely at the little girl, his racing thoughts consisting of “the devil spawn of Loid” and how jealous he was that she got to see Yor everyday.

“I think I have heartburn…” Anya sighed, her face showing disinterest and displease

Oh. Did I scare her? I’ve heard I give off a scary vibe to people, but children usually always loved me? Was it Yuri that scared her. (Y/N) looked over at Yuri’s judging face. Oh, definitely. I’d be scared too. Just waking up to that face scares me. She thought, joking with herself as she resisted the urge to laugh at her mental joke.

“Oh, no! Are you okay? Maybe you should rest up a little before we study.” Yor spoke.

They were led to the living room and sat on the couches. (Y/N) sat at the end as Yuri sat in the middle of her and Yor. Yor kindly poured tea for them as Loid and Yuri talked, (Y/N) letting them take hold of the conversation.

“So, how have things been at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, you two? The recent peace talks must’ve been tough to handle.” Loid questioned.

Let’s pump for some intel, Loid thought.

(Y/N) looked at Yuri, expecting him to lead the conversation just like last time.

“Mm, yeah… I guess…” Yuri paused.

I was the one pretending to be the minister that day. Afterward, even the SSS must’ve figured out they’d been duped by “Twilight.” The circumstances demanded it, but that was a huge risk we took. Loid thought intensely as he smiled.

Is this pissant mocking us over all the heat we took from the opposite party? The conference was delayed because of a terrorist attack! I’m not going to let you make me look bad in front of my sister, you despicable bastard! Yuri thought, his face noticeably disinterested and frowning.

Man. The atmosphere is so awkward. I wanna go back to sleep… (Y/N) thought, staring back and forth at Loid and Yuri. Sucks I can’t, I’m wrapped around Yuri’s finger and doing this stupid SSS work. I should’ve retired earlier when I was a spy, then I wouldn’t be acting buddy-buddy with these guys.

I have to be careful! Loid thought.

I have to make myself look good! As a diplomat, to fall into this role. Yuri thought.

Maybe I can convince Yuri into letting me cook tonight, but it’s unlikely since he’d think the seasonings are poison. (Y/N) thought, clueless to the internal battle these fierce rivals were having.

“Did the incident lead the government to make policy changes?” Loid questioned.

Of course you’re digging for info, Twilight. (Y/N) thought, mentally sighing. Always thinking about work. Why doesn’t he bud out before his curiosity leads him into a grave?

"I couldn't be more proud of the hard work my ministry did to ensure the talks ended safely." Yuri spoke.

"Yeah, it was some hard work but we managed. I'm just glad nobody got hurt badly." (Y/N) smiled, hoping to throw Yuri off of Loid's trail so he won't know that Loid is a spy.

It's dangerous though, if I act too buddy-buddy, me and Loid would both be exposed. But if I keep silent, Yuri might suspect of something. Or perhaps he'd be dumb enough to ignore it since Yor's here. However, I don't want Loid to suspect I'm doing real work with the SSS; sentencing spies to death and all, though that much can't really be helped since my life is on the line. I'm basically considered a double-agent... just with extra steps. (Y/N) thought intensely, adverting her gaze to Anya.

Anya seemed excited, clenching her fists, looking back between (Y/N), Yuri, and Loid.

Papa versus Uncle Yuri versus Auntie (Y/N)! Spy versus secret police man versus double-agent! Uncle Yuri doesn't know who Papa is, but Auntie (Y/N) does! And Papa doesn't know Auntie (Y/N) is a double-agent! But Papa knows Uncle Yuri's identity, and Papa knows a bit about Auntie (Y/N), but so does Auntie (Y/N) knows about Papa and Uncle Yuri. Is Papa winning or is Auntie (Y/N) winning?! Anya thought, excited as she looked around.

"Well, someone's feeling better. Time to start studying." Loid spoke, causing Anya to deflate. "I don't want to be in the way, so I'll run some errands." Loid smiled, sitting up.

A fine chance to work on my other missions. Loid spoke.

But who won?! Anya thought, shocked as she watched Loid stand up.

"Okay, should we get started?" Yor suggested.

(Y/N) looked down at the notebook on the table in front of them, mentally groaning.

Ah. Biology. I never understood what the hell the Handler was trying to tell me when she tried teaching me it... (Y/N) thought.

I said I'd do this because I'd do anything Yor asks, but am I really going to sit here and tutor her husband's dim-witted child. Lucky little brat, getting to spend every day with my sweet sister... I'll hit her with some hard ones and introduce her to the pain of the real world... Yuri thought, scribbling math problems down onto the notebook.

"Yuri, love, I think that's a little too hard. Not even I understand it." (Y/N) spoke, tilting her head to look at the paper better.

"Oh, really?" Yuri questioned, turning his attention to his "wife".

Did she not go to school or something? What an idiot... Yuri thought.

Anya scribbled down her answers to the equations, giving the paper back to Yuri.

"What?! You got every one of them correct?!" Yuri shouted.

"Heh heh heh." Anya chuckled, smirking proudly.

"Wait, really?!" (Y/N) shouted.

A-am I really that stupid?! (Y/N) thought in her head. How did I keep being a spy? Why am I an SSS agent now? What the hell?!

"Then what do you even need to study for?" Yuri questioned.

Oops, that's right! I can't cheat on the day of the midterm, so I need to study for real! Anya thought.

"Oh... that was just dumb luck." Anya responded nervously.

"Oh... I guess... that makes sense... does it?" Yuri mumbled the last bit to himself, a little confused.

Ah. So I'm not all that dumb? (Y/N) thought, mentally sighing relieved.

Yuri and Anya continued studying as Yor watched nearby. (Y/N) leaned her head on Yuri, watching intently as she tried to piece together what Yuri was trying to teach Anya. Yuri almost jumped, before remembering their fake-act, then decided to let it slide since Yor was watching intently, mentally cheering in her mind of how glad she is that Yuri is happy (who really isn't, but Yor doesn't know that).

"No! That's completely wrong! You're not so bright, are you?! Get your act together, kid!" Yuri shouted, pointing his free shoulder to Anya to not disturb (Y/N) much.

"Yuri! You need to be more supportive!" Yor scolded.

"Yeah, be nicer." (Y/N) agreed.

A kid won't look forward to studying and won't study on their own if they get discouraged... (Y/N) thought, remembering how she had to tutor her little brother in English, extremely frustrated how he couldn't understand what she understood. Now that she's way older, she could've been able to properly teach him with the knowledge she's gained of children and life.

"I don't want to see Anya get expelled. Please Yuri, I'm counting on you." Yor spoke.

Yuri went crazy in his head as (Y/N) tuned out, annoyed at the sibling-affection.

Rub it in that I'm an orphan, will ya? She thought, resisting the powerful urge to punch Yuri in the gut.

"By golly, I am going to work so very hard! I am going to become an umperial skoller and be an important person, and take care of my be-love-id Mama forever!" Anya spoke, clumsy making speech mistakes as (Y/N) mentally cringed at it (despite knowing that she does it very often too).

Umperial skoller? Sounds like an ultimate roller-skater! (Y/N) thought, daydreaming.

What a fine child! How can she be so virtuous here?! And what's an umperial skoller? Yuri thought.

"I'm going to make you some tea and sweets, Anya!" Yor spoke, excited and heart-touched

Ooh. Please be brownies. I'd steal one. (Y/N) thought, still daydreaming.

To love my sweet sister so much... No, get ahold of yourself! This girl is trying to still Yor from me! Don't be taken in! But still... maybe... Yuri thought it over in his head, the process of teaching Anya and how happy Yor would be.

"All right, I will teach you." Yuri spoke.

Time went on as (Y/N) eventually dosed off, still leaning on Yuri as he did his best to ignore (Y/N) and focus on Anya's tuition.

"No, look, you made a mistake." Yuri spoke.

"Oh no!" Anya exclaimed.

"The grammar here gets very complicated. You don't need to parse the whole thing. Just focus on the verb." Yuri pointed out.

Anya seemed exhausted, her brain frying the longer she went on.

"Do you not like studying?" Yuri questioned.

"I hate it. Do you like it, Uncle Yuri? Are you a weirdo?" Anya questioned.

"Don't call me 'uncle'. And when I was young, I hated myself for how useless I was. I wanted to be able to help myself sister. And I studied really hard so I could. I felt like I grew an inch taller each time I answered a question right. I loved that feeling. I worked hard at language skills... because I thought that if I could speak well, I could become a lawyer or a journalist and make the world a better place for my sister. I worked hard at chemistry and biology... because I thought that if I mastered anatomy and medicine, I could heal my sister if she ever got hurt or sick. I worked hard at math and psychics... because I knew they were the root of everything that affected the safety and comfort of my sister's life. Ultimately, I decided to become a diplomat, but I still rely on all those powers I developed back then." Yuri explained in a buck-load.

"Powers?" Anya spoke.

"A great man long ago said it best. 'Knowledge is power.' That's what you need to understand if you want to be someone great. Knowledge is everything. It's the whole enchilada." Yuri explained.

"Knowledge is... a swole chihuahua?" Anya commented, scared.

"No! A whole... forget that part!" Yuri sighed.

"If I study hard, can I make medicines?" Anya questioned.

"Yes! Exactly!" Yuri encouraged.

"Can I build rockets?" Anya questioned.

"That's right!" Yuri cheered.

"Can I conquer the world?" Anya smiled.

"That's... well... I... I guess? Is that what you want?" Yuri spoke, mumbling the last part to himself as he looked at Anya suspiciously. "Do you get it now? Never mind the next test. Focus on the triumphant you of the future!" Yuri explained.

"I get it now!" Anya smiled.

"Focus on the sweet smile on my sister's future lips!" Yuri cheered.

"Okay, sure!" Anya boasted.

"Now let's answer this next question!" Yuri spoke.

It must've been hours they went at studying. (Y/N) woke up from her nap at their rowdiness and watched from the couch as they laid on the ground, panting and out of breath at the intensity of their tutor session.

"Well? Have you mastered that grammar now?" Yuri questioned, out of breath.

"What's a 'grammar?'" Anya questioned, out of breath herself.

"Okay, this was a massive waste of my time!" Yuri shouted. "Come on, (Y/N)!"

(Y/N) stood up, relieved as she stretched.

Good! Any longer of her butchering grammar, and I would've blown... (Y/N) thought.

Now I see... I'm the one who needs to be studying here. I have nowhere near enough power. If I'd have more knowledge myself, I would've captured Twilight that day! I could've put an end to the Western threat right then and there! I'm still powerless to protect my sister... to protect my country. Yuri thought.

Ah. Can we eat now? I'm hungry, but Yor's sweets don't smell appetizing. (Y/N) thought.

Good call, Auntie (Y/N)... Anya thought, reading (Y/N)'s mind.

"I'm sorry, Yor. We have to go now." Yuri spoke, putting on his coat and walking out with (Y/N).

"He's still as impatient as ever, I see." Yor sighed. "And after I worked so hard to make these cookies from scratch..."

Yuri ran into the apartment so fast, slamming open the door and eating every last thing on the plate before closing it the door and leaving.

"Mmmm, so good! Blech—" Yuri was cut off by puking noises.

"Oh my god! Yuri, are you okay?!" (Y/N) screamed in the hallway.

"He ate every last one of them! I guess I'll make a new batch." Yor spoke.

"No... thanks... my tummy's really full..." Anya lied, making excuses to avoid eating Yor's cooking.

Back to first person point of view!

I watched as Yuri listened intently into the bugged room, narrating what's going on as I wrote down the information I'm fed.

"Sounds like the target just entered the room. Three people. The two guys in the back are big guys. They're avoiding the door and window. Pros, from the sound of their footsteps." Yuri spoke.

Impressive, I wouldn't be able to tell whose trained and whose inexperienced just by listening to their footsteps! But I have bad hearing so.... my thoughts wandered off before I quickly forced myself back into the present.

"Conrad just sat down on the sofa against the back wall. They made the deal." Yuri confirmed.

"Okay..." The Lieutenant started, "We're going in, Yuri. (Y/N), you're coming with me."

"Roger that!" me and Yuri spokes standing up from our chairs as Yuri removed his headphones.

We forced our way into the room as the lieutenant pulled out his SSS badge, scaring Conrad badly.

"State Security Service. You're under arrest on suspicion of espionage." Lieutenant explained.

"Dammit!" Conrad exclaimed, scared as he turned around to the window and opened it, turning around.

I watched from the window as he ran into Yuri. Yuri karate-chopped his back hard as he grabbed Conrad's hand, holding his arm in a very uncomfortable and no-doubt painful position.

"Good evening, Mr. Traitorous Trash. I've reserved our finest jail cell for you. May I escort you to the precinct?" Yuri beamed.

We got into our next mission as Yuri got promoted to the title "Lieutenant" instead of "Second-lieutenant". It made me very prideful knowing he was making progress to the future he wanted (before I scowled knowing that he wanted me and other Westalians dead or locked up in said future).

"Excellent work, Lieutenant Briar. You too, Mrs. Briar." The head of the SSS spoke.

"Thank you very much, sir!" Yuri and I acknowledged.

I didn't do anything, but sure. I thought to myself.

"I have another assignment for you." The head of the SSS spoke. "Are you aware of the recent spate of books and articles being released in the West that mock and slander Ostania? A bunch of lies and conspiracy-theory nonsense. Vulgar garbage, all of it."

Yuri glanced at me as I gave him a quick glare back, our quick and silent banter going unnoticed by the boss as he continued to speak.

"And a lot of them are printed by Ostanian blackmarket presses before being sold to the West. This man's name keeps popping up among their articles." The boss spoke, pointing at one of the names. "Franklin Perlin, age 39. A newspaper journalist during the previous administration. He was arrested and found guilty of aiding anti-government extremists. I want you to follow him, secure evidence of his crimes and find out who's paying him to write this trash."

"There are no shortage of morons in the West who believe the nonsense he's peddling. I want him gone before it begins to influence the public opinion around here." The boss ordered.

"Yes, sir!" Yuri beamed as I simply nodded.

"Don't you think you're working Yuri a little too hard lately?" The lieutenant behind us spoke.

"I second that idea." I agreed, respectful to keep my tone and posture in check for the man.

"Don't worry, I can handle this! Selling out his own country just to make a few bucks... it disgusts me that this scumbag is out there breathing the same air as my beloved sister!"

Oh, Yuri. What will I do with you? I sighed, having the incredible power to keep my inner thoughts to myself.

Not even an hour later, Yuri and I found ourselves listening to the microphones in Franklin's house that another SSS agent set up, recording information down and sharing our data together as we shared a desk.

"You both really dug into the details of this guy." The lieutenant spoke.

"You can count on me, sir!" Yuri smiled as I resisted the urge to topple over on the desk and sleep.

"You've both pulled two all-nighters in a row. Let someone else take care of the rest so you both can go rest." The lieutenant explained.

"C'mon, this is nothing!" Yuri persisted.

"Is it?" I sighed as I removed my headphones (Yuri looked over at me, giving me a look, but I was too tired enough to care or try to read his emotions at the moment).

"Really? "On the 7th at 8:07, subject goes to work. Has lunch at the restaurant Fjord and orders lunch set B...'" the Lieutenant paused, taking a moment to process the word. "Fjord? Yor?"

Yuri twitched, finding himself to be caught.

"You're tired, Yuri. Go rest." The Lieutenant sighed.

"I'm not. That always happens." Yuri explained.

Yuri went quiet, listening into his headphones.

There must be something going on. I thought to myself. While I am curious to know, I don't want to pick up the headphones and do more work.

"(Y/N), you should go clock out. I'll meet you at home, okay, love?" Yuri smiled, patting my shoulder.

"Are you sure?" I questioned.

Yuri? Leaving me on my own to be alone? Without him for once? What's going on? I thought to myself. Could it be, he's worried about my health? I thought to myself. Or he thinks this mission will be too dangerous and doubts my strength and perseverance... I thought, finding myself jumping to conclusions and getting upset.

"Don't worry about me; you're still new around here, so you shouldn't be working as much as me, especially since you're a lower rank." Yuri spoke, giving me a reassuring smile.

That sounds insulting coming from you, I thought to myself. But if he really persists, then I supposed it'd be wrong for me to go against my husband's "wishes" I thought.

"You better be safe." I sighed, standing up from my desk.

I took the opportunity to prove to the lieutenant that we were a couple and kissed Yuri's cheek.

"I'll let ya take the care, so don't worry about taking the bus. Love ya!" I smiled, walking away from the awestruck Yuri and confused lieutenant.

"Never been kissed by your wife?" I heard the lieutenant speak, followed by Yuri shouting: "With all due respect, sir. Shut up!"

I grabbed my bag from a locker inside of the Director's office (the Director is still trying to figure out a place for a women's locker room, but we need to find the space and more women to join us). I walked to the bathroom and changed my uniform into a casual oversized gray sweater and black jeans.

I walked to the lobby, clocking out and exiting the building. I made it to the train station and noticed a familiar face working one of the stands. I got closer to the tobacco stand, standing right in front of the man and smiling.

"Franky?" I smiled.

"(Y/N)? Hey! You're alive!" Franky beamed. "I thought something happened, I haven't seen you in so long!"

"Aw, man. It's been a hectic few months. How've you been, man?" I smiled, leaning on the stand's dirty counter.

I can spare a few minutes. I thought to myself. It's a good thing Yuri isn't here, he'd kill us both if he found out I was interacting with a spy!

"Ah, still single. Unfortunately..." he huffed. "But what about you? I heard from Loid that you got a husband now?" Franky spoke.

Ah, he wants to know about my mission. We can't talk about it here, Ostanian cameras and microphones are everywhere, so we're going to have to be discreet.

"He's very loving and... hectic. I work in his office now! He works for the Foreign Ministry." I spoke, giving him a quick wink that the camera's in the station wouldn't be able to see or detect (the cameras are quite terribly quality, hopefully in the future we receive better and more reliable photos and videos).

"What?!" Franky exclaimed, then cleared his throat. "How'd you meet?"

"Ahaha, funny story." I smiled, a smile not friendly at all. "Some... old friend... at the old workplace introduced us. I liked my husband so much I started working in the same office as him, except I have a bit of a special contract cause I'm a woman (spy)." I gritted through my teeth.

"So they know?" Franky spoke, shocked.

"Yes, but I just have some major good luck now a days." I smiled.

"Wow... You talk to Loid recently, or your old boss?" Frank questioned.

"I've been seeing Loid around lately, we're in-laws!" I beamed. "But, I haven't talked to the boss yet, I'm sure they heard of my retirement, yeah?"

"Not sure. They didn't disclose it to me." Franky sighed. "But, hey. I'm really glad you're doing okay."

"Yeah. Hey, I got to get hoe before my husband, but I'll make sure I visit you soon, man. I'll see you later!" I spoke, waving bye as I walked away from the tobacco stand and to a ticket stand instead to purchase my train ticket.

I purchased my ticket, deciding I'd stop by the store to buy some dinner ingredients, then walk the rest of the way home. I boarded the train, looking out the window until I noticed a woman sit next to me.

"(Y/N)." She spoke, her face holding no smile.

I didn't recognize her face due to her changing her appearance in public quite regularly, but I certainly recognized her voice.

"Miss... Metal?" I smiled nervously, unsure of what I'd call her on this train.

This is my first time meeting her in public, let alone after I quit... I thought, sweating bullets.

"I'm disappointed; I thought you'd stay in the workplace longer." Miss Metal spoke, otherwise known as the Handler.

"I apologize... I ran into some complications." I muttered.

I felt guilt pierce my heart. Here I am, working with Ostania, the side that murdered my family in cold blood. Even though my mother left me when I was very young, the Handler seemed to take her place (at least in my eyes). The Handler gave me a roof, clothes, food, and helped me study; even though it was all to become an emotionally-detached spy, I still found myself seeing her as the closest thing to a mother figure.

"You're in a good situation, right?" Miss Metal spoke.

"Yes, Ma'am. I have a husband now." I spoke.

"My, you've grown. Is this husband also the one working in Foreign Ministry?" she questioned.

Damn it, to be expected. Of course Twilight wouldn't keep our promise, work always came first before relationships and friendships... I thought. This is the end, if she doesn't kill me on this train, then I'm going to have to throw away all my cups and food in case of poison, and buy new bedsheets in case of more poison! I'm going to have to check the air vents for lethal gas, and I'm going to have to check the apartment three times and more for any cameras and microphones.

"Yes, Ma'am..." I admitted disappointedly, my heart racing in fear. "I'm... also working there, but you know that, huh?"

"I've known." She whispered, her tone sending chills down my spine. "You still have your... telephone... correct?" she questioned.

My spy gear. I thought to myself.

"Yes, Ma'am." I nodded, keeping my eyes adverted to my lap.

"Stay in contact. Keep me updated on your work, and I'll give you some information. After all, we may be rival companies now, but we can still help each other, yes?" she spoke, giving me a cold smile.

"I..understand, Ma'am..." I muttered.

"I'll be expecting a voicemail once you've reached home. Thank you for your cooperation." She spoke, getting up from her seat as the train stopped. "And... you're doing good, kid. This is going to be worth it." She sighed, giving me enough time to turn and look at me, before walking out of the opening exits.

I never got swaddled in affection as a kid. Even before the war happened, I forced myself to grow up quick. I had to, that way I can take care of my family. Living in such a poor town such as Luwen with five kids really affected my dad's wallet. My older brother was in a rebellious phase, so he saw no point in helping out with our situation. My older sister had a condition that affected her socially and sometimes neurologically; she could barely get a job and the jobs she did get she couldn’t keep it for long. My two younger brothers were too young; still looking to explore the world, still trying to figure out what new games to play, they wouldn't understand the concept of money and labor if I even tried to explain it. I, however, always had a second-conscience inside my head. I was raised street-smart and taught myself how to be book-smart. I was the only one with the clearest mindset to earn money.

Even though it was exhausting having to work during the days, school myself in the afternoon, cook and clean at dusk, then sleep still dawn, only to get back to work; I wouldn't change it for anything. My father was always working, there was barley ever a time I actually spent time with him, but I could understand why he was so absent. He never tried to hide anything from us; not about the cruelty of the world, the need of money, or his feelings. He was an open man that would do anything to protect and raise his children to the best of his abilities; I only wish I could be able to return that favor.

So I never received a lot of hugs or kisses or hand-holding or even supportive words; so I cried when the Handler told me I was going good (whether she meant it or not) because she was the closest thing I could ever experience to a mother's love; or to any real love in general now.

I should've known I wouldn't be able to hide for long... I thought to myself, staring out the train's window with my teary-eyed vision. It was stupid to think I would actually get away from this war. I don't have anyone to blame but myself, I'm the one that did this to myself. I was the one that forced my way into the Westalis military, I was the one that accepted the hardships of becoming a spy, I was the one that turned my back against my own side so I could save myself, and now I'll be running back to the ones I ran from. What other choice do I have? They'll kill me if I don't accept; at least they were kind enough to make a proposition for me.

Now I'll be turning my back against a side that did their best to accept and bring me in despite knowing exactly who I am and what I've done, except this time, I've found myself backstabbing someone I genuinely started to grow caring for.

I zombie-walked to the store, picking out a lot of products and buying it with my own money as I walked home with bags of food. I cooked a big feast for Yuri and I, including his favorite meals that I know of and waited for him at the door. I felt bad for betraying him like this, especially after I started believing I was finally making progress.

"Oh? You're actually still here? I thought you left for the West, to be honest." Yuri admitted as he walked through the door, then started sniffing the air. "I thought I told you to rest!" Yuri groaned, sending me a glare.

"You deserve to come home to a good meal." I smiled, walking behind him and taking his coat, hanging it up on its designated hanger, right next to mine.

"What are you planning?" Yuri questioned, eyeing me suspiciously.

"Jeez! I can't do something nice for you? You've been overworking yourself a bit, I just wanna make sure you're being taken care of!" I huffed, crossing my arms. "Now let's go eat, before it gets cold!"

I pushed him into the kitchen, watching as his eyes widened at the sight of all this food.

"Wow, you made all of this?" he questioned.

"I told ya I wanted to treat you..." I mumbled, ignoring the heat that started to creep onto my face. "Consider it a thanks for everything you've done to me and everyone around you."

I adverted my eyes, expecting to hear some harsh words spat at me or a rant about how "suspicious" and "lethal" this meal is. Instead, I felt a hand rest on the top of my head before he ruffled it slightly.

"Thank you, (Y/N). This means a lot for me. Been forever since I've been welcomed home." Yuri smiled sincerely, a newfound glimmer in his ruby eyes.

"You deserve it, Yuri." I smiled back.

You don't deserve me, not after what I've done. I thought to myself, thinking of the message I sent to WISE's HQ.

This is Vixen. I've returned. I've got intel on the mission's of Ostania's State Security Service. I have infiltrated the forces and am currently working with them. They are aware of my connections with WISE; however, they believe it's all in the past and that I'm actually working with them. I have everything under control and am waiting for your orders.

For there to be peace, sacrifices must be made, no matter if it's family, friends, love, or someone's life.

Parts: One, two, three, four, five, six, current part, eight, nine, ten (to be continued when Spy x Family has more Yuri content!)

Want more Yuri content? Check out these headcannons and one shots!

Yuri Briar x Sick! Fem! Reader

Slightly mean! Yuri Briar x Fem! Reader

Yuri Briar x Fem! Reader headcannons + other fandoms!

Have any requests? Check my masterlist to see the characters I write for: Masterlist (Please request, I have too much free time and too little fics).

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gyumibear · 1 year ago

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💖 create a sim(p)! — 18: friends?

synopsis — after stupidly claiming on stream that you’ve been dating popular youtuber choi beomgyu in secret after accidentally creating an identically looking sim, you beg him not to reveal your lie to the public when it goes viral. weirdly, he agrees and you two begin to fool the public. can your lie become the truth or will it eventually catch up with you?

prev / masterlist / next

a/n — back with another written chapter! but this time it’s gyu’s pov! (wc: ~1k) as for warnings: swearing, mentions of murder, mentions of pineapple pizza(😭) and beomgyu having an internal crisis throughout the whole thing!

“What’s up?” Beomgyu greeted, walking smoothly into your room.

“Sit. We have much to discuss.” You ordered.

He plopped himself down in the bean bag chair.

“First order of business, my mandatory freak out.”

Beomgyu looked at you confused. His expression only amplified into one of abject horror when you, without further explanation, started screaming incoherently into your pillows. Your arms flailing wildly, you let out all your grievances and curses while Beomgyu watched on in silence, unsure whether to flee or comfort.

After you tired yourself out, you lifted your head, your neutral expression returned to your face. Beomgyu was relieved you were done screaming, given he had just become super concerned about you. Friends worry about friends right? He thought, thinking back to his conversation with Keeho and the others. Yeah, but you can also worry about someone you’re interested in. What the hell- now is NOT the time to be worried about that.

“Are you okay?” He asked quickly, desperate to clear his thoughts from his mind. “That was… unexpected.”

“I told you beforehand I was going to have a mandatory freak out. Be grateful I had the sense to not scream without the muffler.” You barked, absolutely no bite attached. Beomgyu shrugged, deciding to let you have that.

Wait, am I just doing that because I like-

“Second order of business!” You clapped your hands, snapping Beomgyu out of his mind. “We need to figure out how to address the thread.”

“Would it be crazy for me to say…” Beomgyu started, unsure how his next words would go, “I don’t think we should address it all?”

“Why would we not?!”

“Listen… It’s just giving that person what they want: attention. Nobody else was agreeing with them, so it’s not like we have much to worry about.”

“Not yet! But what if people start reading deeper into everything we do? Then we’re in deep shit.”

“You’re in deep shit.” He corrected without much thought, immediately facepalming himself for two reasons.

One, that was an asshole thing to say. And two, the way your face immediately fell made him feel like crap.

“Oh yeah… I forgot…” You whispered softly, more to yourself than out loud.

“No no, wait.” He didn’t like that expression on your face. “I didn’t mean that. Slip of the tongue. You’re right. It’s our problem, and we should fix it together.”

Friends don’t leave friends to drown. Even if said friend is in this situation because of their own stupid, idiotic actions.

“Yeah…” You nodded before looking away.

Now, it was like a wall was between the two of you. Beomgyu felt kinda bad. This whole time you had been trying to be nice to him and build a friendship, but he only gave you half-hearted reactions and treatment. Sure, you had probably only done it so that your fake relationship would look realer, but still… You were trying so hard… And he wasn’t trying enough.

No wonder he was so confused about whether he liked you as a friend or partner. Fake dating really is a terrible idea.

“Hey, why don’t we stream again? Like nothing happened, and if someone asks we can shut it down there?” He suggested, wanting to fill the silence and show you he cared at the same time.

“That could work… What should we say?”

“Pretty much that that person is reaching. It’s simple, to the point and we don’t have to make anything up.” Beomgyu made a mental note to also make a tweet condemning any of his fans for spewing hate about you. “How about that?”

“Sounds good to me. When should we do this?”

“Yeonjun actually wanted to be in one of my vlogs, so we can meet up with him tomorrow? Hang out and then record? Two birds with one stone…”

“Yeonjun…?”

“My best friend.”

“Ah… Wait, you brought your friend with you? What, you thought I was gonna murder you or something?”

“He had to shoot!” Beomgyu defended, “And to be fair, he was the one that thought you’d murder me. I trust you.”

“Oh really?” You looked surprised.

“Yeah,” Beomgyu smirked mischievously, “Trust that you wouldn’t be stupid enough to try anything. You have no chance against me.”

“What?! I’d totally kick your butt if I wanted to!”

“Sure.” He dragged out the last syllable, making it extremely clear that he was being sarcastic.

“You know what? Let’s go! Right now!”

“No thanks, I don’t wanna have to explain to Yeonjun why we have to flee back to Korea before I get arrested.”

“You are not funny!”

The way you guys could playfully banter like this was making Beomgyu even more confused. He enjoyed your company, which was normal for friends… But he couldn’t help but think you were so attractive the way you shook your fist at him. It’s not like he wanted to kiss you. Or did he? Do friends kiss? God, he sounded like a loser right now.

Maybe he should text his friends again…

If Taehyun was here he’d probably set Beomgyu straight. But Taehyun would also drag him for every decision he’s ever made and then call him dumb. Jake was unhelpful for things like this, given he was a prime example of what not to do in relationships. Yeonjun was helpful… when he was available. Which wasn’t often. He was probably out right now. Keeho? He was pretty normal and pretty helpful too… But, he was addicted to being in people’s business and getting himself involved with both sides of the party...He did not want Keeho to start talking to you.

Maybe he should just take a nap.

“Fine, fine, you win.”

“Damn right I do!” You grinned, laying on your back to look up at your bare ceiling. “So… What do you wanna do for dinner?”

“Pizza?”

“Yes! Can we get it with pineapples?”

“No? What monster eats pizza with pineapples?”

“I’ll have you know me and NingNing adore pineapple pizza.”

“WHO??”

“Oh! That’s what I call Kai.”

“Oh. I thought you had an imaginary friend or something…Anyways… No pineapple on the pizza.”

“Darn.”

#k-labels #kflixnet #kpop smau #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu smau #txt smau #txt x reader #beomgyu social media au #choi beomgyu x reader #choi beomgyu smau #beomgyu fic

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missmyfriend45 · 2 years ago

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Pillow Talk

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Summary: Jay comforting you after a tough day

Word count: 1.2k

꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳

It’s 3:46 a.m., and I am still wide awake. I slowly lift my head from my pillow. I could see that it was still dark outside. A little light was starting to seep through the curtains, indicating that the night was about to end. Thank god.

I didn’t even realize how much time had passed since I'd been lying here. I stare at the clock again, trying to make sense of what has happened. The events kept replaying over and over in my head, trying to figure out where it went wrong.

It was just like any other case. Jay and I were on a stakeout, waiting for our suspect, who was believed to be involved in a string of armed robberies. We spotted him near a convenience store with a backpack and something under his jacket, and he was headed straight for the store. We knew we couldn’t wait for backup, so we radioed in for some help and went after him. When we entered the store, the robber had already been waving his gun around. Jay and I immediately sprang into action. I started clearing out the rest of the store, helping the remaining customers to the back, while he engaged the suspect. When I turned my attention back to the robber, my heart went cold. He was pointing his gun at Jay.

Jay, meanwhile, had drawn his gun out and was shouting at the robber to drop his weapon, trying to deescalate the situation, but the robber didn't listen and, in fear of getting arrested, fired a shot at Jay. My heart raced as I watched the bullet hit him.

Everything happened so fast after that. It's all been a blur. Jay, stumbling backwards, lying on the floor..... Me, tackling the robber, and then trying to help Jay…. The screaming customers... Patrol arriving…

Later on, when the adrenalin faded, I realized what a close call it had been. He was lucky that the vest caught the bullet. If it had hit him even an inch lower, he would've bled out on the floor—he could have died.

And as I was lying here beside him, the realization hit me again hard, and I felt a chill run down my spine. I almost lost him today, and I didn't want to believe it. I just can’t imagine my life without him. Not seeing his beautiful eyes looking up at me, his infectious smile, not hearing his voice, or not feeling his warm touch on my body ever again. The idea of losing Jay was too much to bear; it made my heart ache. From that moment on, I just couldn’t close my eyes, afraid that when I opened them again, he wouldn’t be there next to me.

The thought terrified me and seeped through every bone in my body. I realized I was shaking, and it wasn’t from the cold. I looked up at his face, my eyes drinking in his every feature, trying to calm myself down.

He was fast asleep, his bare chest rising calmly with every breath. I could see the purple bruise from where the bullet had hit his vest; the blanket couldn’t cover it up completely. I reached out to touch it gently, but I stopped myself.

I shouldn’t disturb him; he needed his rest after the day he had, but then I knew I needed him more. I know it sounds selfish, but in this moment, I didn’t care. I needed to touch him. I know that without it, I would fall apart. I needed to make sure that he still existed.

So I carefully shifted to his side and put my head on his chest. With my arm around his waist, I pulled him as close to myself as I could and nuzzled further into his neck.

He slowly started to stir, and on instinct, he pulled me into his embrace.

Lying there and listening to his beating heart, I just couldn’t hold back my tears any longer. What if he had died? How would I survive without him?

He probably heard me sniffing in his ear, because the next thing I noticed, he started slowly caressing my arm.

"Hey, babe, is everything okay?" He asked, his voice raspy from sleep. I couldn’t find my voice, so I just shook my head.

"What’s wrong?" He reached for the lamp, and in a moment, our bedroom was filled with light. I still couldn’t speak, so I looked up at him, and I saw his face filled with worry.

I probably don’t look so good right now; my eyes are red and puffy from the lack of sleep and crying, so I can only imagine how much I scared him with that.

"You okay? Are you in pain? Please talk to me. You’re killing me over here." – I heard the desperation in his voice, so I had to pull myself together, at least long enough to give him an answer.

"Jay, I’m so sorry; I should have had your back," I whispered, my eyes filling with tears again.

"Hey, hey, hey... "What are you talking about?" his eyes pleading.

"This afternoon, when he shot you... It shouldn’t have happened." My voice trembled.

Realization struck him. "No, listen to me; hey, look at me," he says, and he cups my face. – "It is not your fault; it’s not on you; do you hear me? You did everything right today. You cleared the store, you helped the customers, and you took down the suspect. You couldn't have done anything more."

"I still feel like I should have done more to protect you. You could have been seriously hurt." If you died… I can’t lose you, Jay; I just can’t." – I violently shook my head.

Jay's eyes softened as he looked at me, his hand still cupping my face. "I know how you feel," he said gently. "And I can't imagine what I would do if something happened to you either."

"But you have to remember," he continued, "that we're in this together, and we look out for each other. And today, you did everything right. You were amazing out there."

Jay leaned in, planting a soft kiss on my forehead. "And I'm always here for you, no matter what. I'm not going anywhere."

I let out a deep sigh, feeling a sense of relief wash over me. "Thank you," I said softly, turning to face Jay. "For being there for me."

Jay smiled, wrapping his arms around me. "That's what partners do," he said.

I leaned into him, and I closed my eyes, letting myself sink into his embrace and feeling the tension and worry of the day slowly melt away. I was thankful for Jay’s presence, his touch, and his words of comfort.

"I don't know what I'd do without you," I confess to him, my voice barely recognizable.

Jay looked at me, his eyes filled with warmth and affection. "You'll never have to find out," he said firmly.

"I love you," I whispered, feeling the words tumble out of my mouth before I could even think. "With everything I have".

Jay smiled, pulling me even closer to him. "I love you too," he said softly. "And I always will."

He slowly laid back down on the bed, pulling me along with him.

"Now, try to get some sleep, alright"? I nodded, and he switched off the light.

As the darkness began to take over, I couldn't help but feel grateful for the love and support I have in my life. And as Jay's steady breathing filled the room again, I knew that he was right—he wasn't going anywhere. We were in this for the long haul, and together, we can face anything.

#jay halstead #jay halstead fanfiction #jay halstead x reader #chicago pd #one chicago

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anincompletelist · 1 year ago

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year in review: favorite lines! :D

hi friends! so this is entirely self-indulgent (both the part where I share my own work and the part where I tag you all to do the same) but I feel like we all have those special pieces of art/fics that just mean a little more to us but don't really get a chance in the spotlight. plus, any time is a good time for a bit of shameless self-promo and supporting friends! rules and my own contribution below! <3

RULES: there are no rules! I am quite literally making this up as I go so please don't take this too seriously ksjhdkh. feel free to share your top three/top five/however many favorite snippet(s)/line/quotes/paragraphs from your published fics (or wips, I don't care!) and don't forget to share the link of course! see below for an example.

here are mine!

from Sure As the Stars in the Sky:

They’re both honest people, sometimes to a fault, but Henry’s truths are private, quiet, and Alex’s are loud. From the day Henry met him he’s been brash and earnest, unafraid to speak his mind even when he’s scared, without making sacrifices or harboring fear of punishment for doing so. It’s both intoxicating and infuriating. Alex screams to a crowd of thousands of supporters, holding up bright posters with encouraging messages, and Henry screams into his pillow. When Alex speaks everyone listens, when Henry does he’s stifled, told to quiet down, to get back in line. Alex tries and succeeds. Henry tries. And tries and tries and tries and tries and still it isn’t enough to make any real difference. His whole life he’s felt linked to Alex in a number of ways. He’d taken comfort in their similarities despite their disagreements on more than a few occasions, because it’d been so nice just to have the knowledge that someone out there in the world had some idea what he was going through. That maybe he wasn’t as alone as he often felt. He and Alex’s paths converge at many points, but this is not one of them. Henry rolls over and presses his face into the pillow again, stays there until all of his senses have redirected toward something else, until all he feels is the constricting of his airway and the rush behind his eyes, until his instincts force him to lift his head again, to take a breath, to survive.

from take my hand if you can take me as I am:

And it’s probably just a power play. It’s probably just something that Henry enjoys in the bedroom that’s unrelated to anything else. Lots of people like choking, Alex reckons. But here, now, it feels like— it feels like Henry, Prince Henry, who holds a tremendous amount of power over the whole of his entire country, Henry Fox who tries so hard to balance it all on his shoulders without ever complaining or asking for help even when it’s ripping him apart, Alex’s Henry who shows up in shifts at the oddest of times with his sweet words and his soft, kind heart and his quiet hope — it feels like all of those versions of Henry, each with an equal amount of power, handing a bit of that over for a moment. Like he’s letting Alex have another little piece of him, offering it up like the most precious secret, asking nothing in return. Like he trusts Alex to hold it, to hold him, because he knows he’ll push him only as much as it takes to shake off the dust so he can shine again, never enough to shatter him beyond repair.

from praying our bridges don't make waves:

Alex’s chest burns. Here he is, standing in a bedroom Henry never asked to be in, with someone that’d never been a part of his plans, putting his gentle hands and tender lips on Alex’s roughness even when he’s dirty, even when he’s broken. Even when he doesn’t have anything to offer him but that. Even, even, even. Even when Alex is drifting somewhere miles away, Henry draws him back.

from but I can count on you to tell me the truth when (I've) been drinking and you're wearing a mask:

The ceiling of Alex’s dorm room is cracking in one corner. He knows because he stares at it a lot these days, in between going to classes and lacrosse games. It hadn’t been there when he moved in but it’d steadily grown since that first year. Alex wonders if somehow it’s his fault.

tags: YA'LL THERE'S NO PRESSURE AT ALL BUT ALSO PLS DO THIS SO I CAN APPRECIATE YOU AND YELL AT YOU IN THE TAGS! @affectionatelyrs @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @firenati0n @kiwiana-writes @daisymae-12 @read-and-write- @inexplicablymine @happiness-of-the-pursuit @heybuddy-drabbles @firstsprinces @sparklepocalypse @littlemisskittentoes @getmehighonmagic @wordsofhoneydew @nocoastposts @zwiazdziarka @luainthewild @england-would-fall @iboatedhere @magicandarchery @gayrootvegetable @raysletters @tintagel-or-cockleshells @eusuntgratie @ninzied AND ALSO ANYONE ELSE WHO WOULD LIKE TO SHARE PLS TAG ME ! also might try to come up with some writer asks for end of year stuff too, but we'll see.

I'll see you all for wip wednesday! I hope you're all well! :D

#my fics #tag games #rwrb #red white and royal blue #rwrb fic #firstprince #red white and royal blue fanfic

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mangoshorthand · 2 years ago

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Hii againn, first off I seriously love love LOVE the lucky fucking pillow you did from my first request thank you 🫶 I think this counts as my second request? (I hope it's okay to req again🥺) fluff rather than a smut hehe, this happens after five retired and they live together and reader comes home with a senior cat she decided to adopted (bc it reminded her of five) then he soon comes to love it so much, and up to you! pls a bit of angst. THANKIEE SMM I really enjoyed my first request!! 🩷🩷🩷

You're welkiee again! You can request as often as you like (but I am on hiatus after posting this to work on one or two longer projects). I've saved this one for a bit because I really wanted to do it justice. Sorry it took so long.

Two Old Men | Five Hargreeves / GN Reader Words: 3.3k, rated G

At last, retirement suited him.

He tried first when he was fifty eight and his body was in its teens, but destiny pulled him kicking and screaming back into the chaos. After all that was all done, he tried again, but it didn’t take.

As it turned out, people don’t retire just because they’re mentally tired, they retire because they’re old, and Five’s body and brain tissue being physically young had left him too full of energy to live a life of idleness.

But now, with his body in its early fifties and his consciousness well into its nineties, he felt the body slowing down enough to allow him to take it easy

So, a year ago, you and he bought a few acres of land in Tompkins County. Five was someone who didn’t like to gush- in fact, he tended to find fault if there was any- but even he had to admit it was perfect: it was near enough to Ithaca to access all the restaurants, shops and bars you enjoyed together, and rural enough to satisfy him in his insistence that you retire somewhere where nightfall brought a view of the cosmos unspoiled by city lights.

The farmhouse was small enough to mean it would be easy enough to keep clean as you both aged, but commodious enough to play host to two or three family members at a time.

For New Year, you actually managed four, but that had involved Klaus staying on a blow-up. He'd insisted that his powers kept his body in tip-top shape but it became apparent the following morning that he'd been talking out of his ass: his elderly back could no longer tolerate such treatment, and Five had wrenched his own in pulling him off the mattress.

No, Five couldn’t complain: he had a couple of project cars to tinker with in the barn, and next year you were planning to try planting a little orchard and vineyard to try your hands at making organic wine. His days were filled with pleasant walks, naps and hobbies, and his nights were spent warm in bed with you: what more could a man want from his retirement?

Now, he stretched out on the veranda, hat shading his eyes and sun warming his limbs. He wondered vaguely whether it was worth adding just one more bedroom. He sort of missed having a house full of guests. Or, even better, maybe he could build himself a better place for the cars (his precious Corvette was vulnerable to rust in the barn right now), and then convert the barn into its own little self-contained-

“Five?”

Your shout came to him on the breeze. He put down his book entirely and squinted at your approaching figure, returning from your afternoon walk. He’d left his glasses inside, so he could only see an indistinct shape in your arms. Your gait seemed unusual. Were you hurt?

“What’s up?” he called back, ignoring the slight twinge in his pelvis as he stood.

“Look what I’ve found!”

Not hurt: just slightly urgent. He approached curiously, walking off the little stiffness caused by the twinge. He knew there would probably be a point when it was easier to blink to his feet than heave himself up- he could sense it coming the last time his body was in its fifties, but he was damned if he’d do that until his joints were at least pushing eighty.

You came into view.

Apparently, you were wrestling with your sweater.

It writhed in your arms, wriggling and snarling so fiercely that you nearly dropped it on a couple of occassions.

“What the hell?”

“Open the door for me. I found a cat.”

“A cat?" he said, as if he'd never heard of such a creature.

And, sure enough, a pair of bright green eyes glared out from where their owner was bundled up in the sweater: a tightly- wrapped burrito with murder in its heart.

“I don’t want that thing in the house!” he said, as the burrito gave a threatening growl.

“He’s ill, Five.”

Thirty years together had taught him when you meant business. Your tone was conclusive, so he reluctantly opened the front door.

“Put it in the laundry room,” he said, resentfully, “I don’t want it pissing on the furniture.”

“He, Five.” you said, pointedly.

“Yeah, wouldn’t wanna misgender a goddamn cat,” he mumbled, but he opened the laundry room door and stood aside so you could enter before closing it behind you both.

“Okay- stand back,” you said, lowering the writhing sweater onto the tiles.

Five did step back. He liked dogs, but cats he had no interest in. Let alone one that sounded like it intended them both serious bodily harm. Its constant growls and furious yowls made him feel like he was in the presence of a live grenade.

For a moment, the bundle wriggled, throwing itself around until the cat finally extracted himself. His long fur was a dark gray black, and those jade eyes peered out threateningly from underneath weeping mange-sores. Immediately, he backed off into a corner, fur all on end and spitting at you both with hackles raised. Though he was doing his level best to appear larger, he was rather small and skinny.

Five looked at you, incredulously. There you were, eyes glistening in adoration as you looked down at the brewing hurricane of claws and teeth. It was the same face he fell in love with. You were slightly older than him physically, but you didn’t look it, especially now that your eyes were filled with an excited gleam: you looked young again.

“Look at him, Five!”

Suppressing a loving smile, he looked back at the cat, now growling again.

“He’s kinda gross.”

“No he isn’t!” you said, indignantly, “he's an old man and he’s sick.”

You paused for a moment.

“A bit like you, actually. You’re a sick old man if ever I met one.”

You eyed him knowingly with a little twitch of your eyebrows. Five scowled, but you continued, laughing, as the parallels came upon you one by one.

“He is like you! That must be why I had to bring him home! He’s tiny and old and grumpy and-”

As you said it, the cat let out an indignant, snappish ‘Nyaah’.

“-and he even sounds like you!” you finished, grinning.

“I’m not tiny,” Five said, grumpily, “I’m only an inch or so shorter than average.”

“Look!” you said, pointing between him and the cat, “you’re pulling the same face.”

“God, I married an idiot,” Five replied, schooling his expression back into neutrality. He looked back at the cat with its teeth bared in a silent hiss.

“It looks like it wants to tear our throats out.”

“I know!” you said, rapturously, “he’s so cute!”

Five shook his head at this absurd non-sequitur.

“Whose is it?”

“I found him near the old Montgomery place. I think he must have belonged to Judy.”

His mouth pulled downwards. Five had known Judy to wave to. She was a nice old lady who lived a few farms over. He’d been sorry to hear of her death.

“That means he’s been surviving on his own for two months,” you said.

He looked down at the cat, looking rapidly around itself for a route of escape and finding none. It seemed to try to line up a jump onto the counter, but looked wobbly on its back legs as it did so, so it gave up and went back to eyeing them with those lamp-like eyes.

He really was old.

“Well,” Five said, begrudgingly, “you’re gonna have to take him to the vets. See if he’s chipped and get that shit on his face sorted out.”

“Okay!” you said, brightly, looking around the laundry room with a thoughtful look, “can you blink and get me some twine from the kitchen so we don’t have to open the door.”

“Twine?”

“You just watch.”

***

With many claw marks on your forearms but still smiling like an idiot, you drove the cat to the vets with it trapped in a plastic laundry basket with an identical one on top secured with twine. Five watched you down the drive with a fond shake of the head and returned to his book. There was still a good hour or so of warm, early-afternoon sun before he’d have to go inside and get a jacket.

He spent the afternoon peacefully, sipping a cold beer and occasionally letting his book rest on his chest while he watched the thick cirrocumulous cloud cover crawling gradually by.

When he was forty, he only barely lived through the worst apocalyptic winter. Fuel was low, and he'd been prevented from finding more or seeking shelter elsewhere by the deepest snow drifts he ever experienced.

Out of one of these, he’d dug himself and Dolores a little snow-shelter. He distinctly remembered trying to dry his soaking gloves over the smoldering embers of his last burnable supplies and looking down at his red fingers.

'If I survive this,' he thought then, 'this will all be a memory one day. I can look back on this when I’m warm and comfortable. I can sit in the sun and remember how lucky I am to be there. This is good, actually, because it’ll teach me to be grateful.'

And, although he’d only thought that way to get him through that night, it had actually worked, because Five remembered it now. He remembered the pain in his joints from the physical labor and the burning of his frostbitten fingers and toes. He took a moment to glory in the contrast between then and now.

Back then, he’d only been thinking about surviving until the thaw or the following summer, but now he had more happiness and more comfort than he ever dared to imagine then. He was warm, he was safe, he was home, and he would fall asleep tonight held tight in your arms.

With a warm feeling in his chest, he closed his eyes.

He only awoke from the slight doze at the sound of the car pulling up.

“Hey,” he said, without opening his eyes, “is it all done with? Cat at the shelter?”

“Nyyaaahhh!”

The truculent noise was more than enough to answer his question. Damn cat couldn’t even meow right.

He opened his eyes to see you standing there with the cat in a brand new carrier and a huge bag from the pet store in another.

“Woah, hey!” he said, dismayed, “We didn’t talk about this!”

“Please, Five,” you said, wheedling, “he has nobody else. They read his chip and he was Judy’s. The vet said he’s too old to get adopted and he’d probably die at a shelter.”

“No, I am not keeping that thing in the house,” he protested, “I got this strange liking to having both my eyes!”

He relented slightly at the sight of your pout.

“Fine. He can stay, but he can live in the barn.”

“You go live in the barn,” you said, resentfully, taking the cat and the supplies into the house despite his protestations.

An argument ensued, an argument that didn’t settle down until you both turned in for bed.

When the cat was shut downstairs for the night, fed, bedded and given the run of the kitchen and laundry room, you slid into bed beside Five without acknowledging him.

Five sat there for a minute or so with his arms folded and a scowl on his face. At last, he spoke:

“Fine,” he said, “he can stay in the house, but I got two conditions.”

You gave a small squee and kissed him full on the mouth, squashing his mustache with your fervor. You knew that the thin end of the wedge was embedded. Whatever Five’s conditions were, the cat would find his way around them in time.

“All right, all right,” Five said, from between your hands on his cheeks. Though he was trying to sound stern, suppressing his smile was difficult.

“Number one,” he said, holding up a finger, “he doesn’t get to go beyond the kitchen. I don’t want him ruining our stuff. We’ll get a cat door and he can go out and do whatever cats do during the day, and he can sleep and eat here.”

“Okay,” you said, though with no intention of sticking to this agreement.

Five put up a second finger.

“And two, I get to name him.”

“He already has a name,” you said, bemused, “Judy called him Mr Cuddles, I think.”

“That’s a dumb name,” Five grumbled, “I’m calling him Timothy.”

“Timothy?”

“Timothy.” he said, decisively, “take it or leave it.”

“Can we call him Tim?”

“Nope,” Five said, obstinately, “Timothy.”

***

Timothy didn’t like to be touched. It took him six weeks to tolerate you petting him without tensing up, though it was clear he didn’t really enjoy it. Being picked up was still an absolute no-go, as that would necessitate touching his tummy. That, you were learning, was a guaranteed bite.

Despite this, things had improved for Timothy since he arrived. His mange was gone and he’d grown in confidence, greeting you each morning with a polite ‘Nyah’, and even conferring the odd friendly chirrup upon you now and again.

You spent hours in the kitchen with him, just sitting there, drinking tea and tempting him towards you with treats. You were getting on fine, and Timothy clearly already felt like he owned the place, coming and going as he wished and sunning himself on the veranda.

You were besotted, and Five was happy for you, (anything that made your eyes light up that way was fine by him), but mostly he ignored Timothy, carrying on just the same as ever.

One afternoon, however, Five was in the barn, lying on his mechanic’s creeper under his jacked up 1967 Pontiac. There was a worrying leak coming from somewhere, and, having got so far fixing her up on his own, he was hoping to avoid having to take her into the shop in town.

So intent was he on inspecting the engine bay, he didn’t notice that he wasn’t the only one beneath the car until Timothy was less than an inch from his face.

“Nyaaah?”

Five startled, dropping his flashlight and cursing.

“Shit!”

Timothy’s ears flattened against his head, and he backed off rapidly, stopping a few feet away before hissing at Five, ill-naturedly.

“Stupid cat,” Five muttered, composing himself and returning to the job at hand.

As he continued to work, he stayed aware of Timothy stalking around the car. At one point, he heard a small flump that meant he’d jumped through the Pontiac’s open door.

“Watch the the interior,” Five grumbled, “that’s the original naugahyde. You know how much I paid for her?”

“Nyah.”

“Yup,” he said, “and if you scratch up or pee on any of it, I’ll replace it with catskin. Understood?”

“Nyah,” Timothy repeated.

“Good.”

He became absorbed again, listening to Timothy’s paws pattering around on his precious upholstery. The leak was hard to identify. He chewed at his lower lip and considered before muttering to himself.

“It was brown, so that’s gotta be transmission fluid, right? Maybe brake fluid? Hell, maybe it’s just oil.”

“Nyah.”

“Could be a lube oil leak, I guess,” he said, as if Timothy had suggested this, “but it doesn’t smell bad.”

Timothy landed with only a slight stumble when he jumped down. Five felt the cat butt up and rub himself against his feet where they stuck out from underneath the car.

He tinkered for another fifteen minutes to no avail. He could feel his joints starting to stiffen, so he wheeled himself out from under the car to find Timothy watching him, sitting neatly in a shaft of sunlight at the barn door.

He gave Five a slow blink.

Five wasn’t au fait with cat communication, but the gesture seemed friendly, so he nodded slightly awkwardly at him in acknowledgement.

***

Over the next week or so, Timothy honored Five with his company whenever he worked on the Pontiac.

Five supposed it was a hangover from his life with Dolores, but he found he worked better when he had a presence with him to talk to. Verbalizing his thought processes nearly always helped him problem-solve.

It took him a few days to identify the problem and, just as he was starting to fix it, a sound like an idling Harley Davidson made him look around confusedly for the source. He thought for one, wild moment that the key had been turned in the Pontiac’s ignition but apparently not: as it turned out, this was just how Timothy purred.

He was sitting a few feet away, watching Five work under the car and purring in the warmth of the sunlight. When he saw Five looking, he gave another of those contented slow blinks.

That night, Five didn’t shut Timothy in the kitchen when he went to bed.

***

It was a balmy summer afternoon. You and Five were sitting on the veranda on the twin loungers, drinking iced tea and talking in an idle fashion about building another bedroom.

You favored converting the attic, while Five wanted a full barn conversion. He talked convincingly about how nice it would be to have his niblings and their families over to stay for a few weeks at a stretch, but you suspected it actually had much more to do with the opportunity to build himself a proper mechanic’s shop on the property. He talked about how nice it would be to spend more time with the kids, but you could see the ghost of a hydraulic vehicle lift behind his eyes: there would be no more lying uncomfortably on the creeper then.

But, the decision left unmade, Five had talked himself into a nap. His hand had long since dropped from where you’d been holding it between the two loungers, and he was now sound asleep with his hat over his face.

You were engrossed with a book, relaxed and listening to Five’s soft little snores. It was good he was having a nap now, you thought. Tonight, you’d planned to wait up until it got dark out and stargaze on a rug spread in the back field, like you did when you were younger.

“Nyaah?”

Timothy padded into sight, piercing green eyes x-raying you with assessment. This was another similarity to your husband: even after all these years, Five regularly looked at you as if he were still making up his mind about you.

You patted your thigh, hoping to encourage Timothy onto your lap, but he declined the offer and wandered over to sniff Five’s empty glass instead. Apparently finding nothing to his liking, he looked up at Five.

You watched, shocked, as Timothy first gauged the jump, then decided it was within his capabilities and finally shuffled backwards to line himself up. In a mildly ungainly fashion, he made the leap and walked confidently along Five’s chest until he reached the softer padding of his belly. There, Timothy kneaded him gently before he settled down, turning around and around in a circle before curling up neatly.

This was just typical, you thought, as Timothy began to purr loudly. You’d worked your ass off to get this cat to like you and he still barely tolerated you petting him. All the while, Five had treated Timothy with indifference bordering on dislike and this is how he responded?

As you watched, trying hard not to feel slightly offended, Five stirred and muttered something in which only the word “cat” was discernible. His arms came sleepily up, his fingers laced together and his hands laid themselves across the cat’s abdomen.

Timothy stiffened and made a small, slightly unhappy noise at the unexpected touch, but, after a moment of evaluation, apparently decided to tolerate it. He lay his head back down and closed his eyes.

For a moment, you shook your head and watched the two crotchety old men sleep. Then, smiling, you returned to your book.

Request masterlist >> HERE

Tag list: (please comment to be added or removed): @thebearmage, @nevbrooke-555

Megalist

Request info + rules

NOTE:

I take Five requests, I'm fairly versatile in what I write (fluff, smut, angst, psychological character study- I'll try it all) but I will consider them on a case by case basis. See request info + rules for request status and more.

#the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy imagine #umbrella academy x reader #the umbrella academy five #umbrella academy number five #umbrella academy five x reader #umbrella academy five x you #five hargreaves x you #five hargreaves x reader #number five imagine #five hargreeves imagine #number 5 imagine #number 5 x reader #number five x you #five hargreeves x gn reader #long live the mustache

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httpscomexe · 4 months ago

Text

Muzzle

Summary: Turns out, the butterfly effect can be real even without a butterfly to be affected. Now the only thing that can go wrong is the words that come out of your mouth.

(Find what I'm currently writing by checking my pinned post)

Parings: Bucky x Reader (Use of fake name)

Tags: @scott-loki-barnes @cjand10

Warnings: Mentions of shooting, mentions of sedation, mentions of guns. (There will be individual warnings each chapter)

Word Count: 2863 (Find all chapters here) Chapter 3

So what if you fucked up? Just because you patched him up, doesn’t mean you’ll ever see him again or have anything to do with Hydra, right? I mean you did them a favour if anything, making sure their precious Winter Soldier didn’t suffer.

“Panic near the Manhattan district when a violent shootout occurred last week. Damage happening all around the street. Cars windows smashed and delicate plates broken in antique stores and coffee shops. Only 2 civilians were found dead, shot by Hydra agents, and multiple others found with minor injuries.” The TVs volume is low as you mindlessly stare at the wall in front of you, waiting for your friend to call you back with whatever “good news” she claimed she had, you had waited hours, but still no call back. It was almost the next day, so you finally decided you should go to bed for the night.

You awoke to the sound of your alarm on your nightstand. Instead of immediately standing, you drag your hands down your face and then turn onto your stomach before screaming into your pillow. Only then do you continue with your normal morning routine, security would be there to inspect your dorm in about five more minutes, so all you had time to do was brush your teeth, and do your hair before there was a knock on your door, so with your toothbrush still in your mouth, you unlock and open the door to your dorm, not even bothering with a good morning as you step to the side immediately and three men storm in with their guns pointed forward, inspecting every inch and undusted corner or your room. As they inspect your room, you spit your toothpaste back into the bathroom sink and rinse your hands before cleaning your face, deciding to go without makeup.

“Okay ma’am, and now for the questions that we’re required to ask you by the-”

“My name is Clover Whittaker. I am the only person who lives in this dorm, no I have not seen any suspicious activity, men, women, or heard anything suspicious from anybody or gotten any suspicious texts or calls from either a hidden or known phone number.” You tell them, giving them your fake name. Only your closest friends would ever know about who you really are. “Why are you staring at me like that? Did I miss something?” You look up from the sandwich you were lazily throwing together.

“Well the thing is ma’am.” One of the men stepped forward. “We got an anonymous tip from someone. They said last week before the shooting that you had been in contact with the Winter Soldier. What do you have to say about that?” You look back and forth between the three men.

“He knocked on my door asking for help. I didn’t know who he was, I don’t really watch the news or keep up with anything happening.” You answer honestly before walking past them to grab a light jacket.

‘Well with your TV I just assumed you watched it every morning.” One of the other men nod towards your TV. The 24/7 news channel is still on your TV, you’d forgotten to turn it off last night and now some fundraiser was on there, something about a pumpkin patch near the college.

“Haha, so funny.” You laughed, your humour entirely dry as you toss a dirty shirt into your laundry bin. “Well sense I’ve been having fully armed, bullet proof government agents barging through my door every single morning, yeah, I’ve had the TV on the news a lot lately.”

“So I take it you don’t know who I am?” The last of the three finally speak up. He’s black, or kind of light skinned but you were sure it was just the way the ceiling light was hitting him. He also had a big ass bag that looked like it weighed a ton or two and some stupid looking goggles were perched up on his forehead.

“Nope.” You answer plainly before grabbing your bag and throwing it over your shoulder. “Now if you excuse me, I need to get to class because unfortunately the grade that I get in maths could also potentially construct my entire future. Please leave my dorm.” You say quickly, waving your hand towards the door in a way that wasn’t meant to seem as rude as it did.

“Ma’am. We’re going to have to ask you to come with us.” Another man walked over and only now did you bother to read his nametag, it read “Coulson.”

“Stupid name…” You mumble, emitting a questioning ‘hmm’ from his closed lips. “Why should I come with you? Actually I don’t care. Don’t answer that. I’m not going.”

“Well see you don’t have a choice because if you refuse to come with us then we’re going to detain you and if you fight we will have to temporarily sedate you.”

“Sedate hmm?”

“Yes, sedate.”

“I feel like I should be calling my lawyer.”

“You don’t have one cause apparently you’re hiding from the law.”

“What makes you think I’m hiding from the law?”

“Anonymous tip.”

“Seriously?”

“This is your last chance, ma’am.”

“Please stop calling me ma'am. It makes me feel old and by the look on all three of your faces combined I’d say your ages would add up to at least three hundred, and there's only three of you so that’s not a compliment.”

“Well, we would refer to you by your real name but you still have refused to give it to us. So unless the name Clover is a nickname, don’t expect us to call you that.” The third one speaks up, last name “Barton,” on their nametag, also stupid.

“Right.” You sniffle awkwardly and part of you feels like running down the hall through the still opened door would be your best option but you weren’t bullet proof and their guns looked pretty real.

“Well?” The black one, who wasn’t wearing a nametag, spoke up.

“So what is your name? I mean you asked if I knew who you were and usually if the answer is ‘nope’ then normally you would tell them.”

“Sam Wilson.” He answers, his voice suddenly getting louder with either pride or annoyance, possibly both.

“You look darker on TV.”

“Okay.” Coulson says loudly, clapping his hands together. “You now have a limited option on what you say next. It will either be ‘I’ll come with you,’ ‘I’m not going anywhere with you guys,’ or you can run away and say whatever you decide so we can sedate you and get this over with.” He says.

“Can I ask a question?”

“Is it sarcastic?”

“Why is there an Avenger in my dorm?”

“Well I thought that was obvious. We’re part of the Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistics Division, S.H.I.E.L.D for short.”

“Could’ve just said S.H.I.E.L.D the first time. Actually you could’ve said it before I made fun of all three of you, I would’ve already made up my mind.”

“You haven’t made fun of us though?” Barton spoke.

“Not outloud.” You mumble.

“Well then I’m assuming that means you’re coming with us now that you know we have two avengers and an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D in your dorm?”

“No actually I was gonna run.” You pause, watching as their brows quirk into confusion. “I said that outloud.”

“Yea, you did.” A new voice came from the open doorway and yet another man was standing in your dorm. This one you recognised and wanted to kill yourself over.

“Hey, Nick. How’s your eye?”

At first you were okay with waiting to be interviewed, then the clock passed thirty minutes and you’d had enough of waiting. “Hey.” You start to yell out, hoping for someone to come into the small room to see what you wanted, but no one came in. Instead there was a scratching sound before someone spoke to you through the speaker in the corner of two of the walls.

“Yes? Is everything alright?”

“No everythings no alright. Why am I just sitting in this uncomfortably hard metal chair when I was told I was being interviewed by a Hydra professional?”

“Well see no one wants to bother arguing with you. Everyone we’ve asked either suddenly needs to get lunch at nine in the morning or their fish needs bathing. So you’ll have to wait a while longer.”

“If I have to wait one more minute I’m not giving information to anyone.” Just then a door finally opens.

“Good morning.” The man says. “I’m agent Ross. It’s nice to meet you.” He holds his hand out to you after he crosses the table to shake your hand and you politely shake his hand. “And your name is?”

“Nice try.”

“Well I’d feel a lot better if I knew I wasn’t talking to a criminal. Or if I knew I was.”

“You’re not.” You pause and watch as he takes the seat across from you. “For the most part.”

“What’s that supposed to mean.”

“Back to the subject of why I’m here.”

“I haven’t even gotten there.”

“Exactly.”

“You don’t seem very threatened or uncomfortable considering you’re in a building full of Avengers and secret agents that aren’t governed by the US.”

“No, I’m pretty uncomfortable… At least physically.” You shift on your chair, your ass going numb. “Mentally I learnt from the best.” You look towards the blacked out window, you knew Nick Fury would be standing behind there with his arms crossed, eyes slightly squinted, and head slightly tilted.

“So it seems you know Fury pretty well?” Ross begins to go through his folders.

“Hey if we were just gonna talk about me, we could’ve just sat on my really comfortable cheap couch in my dorm and I could’ve ordered McDonalds.”

“You know, I think you’d get along really well with Mr. Stark.”

“I’ll pass.” You say quickly upon hearing his name.

“Oh? Did we finally find a sensitive subject?” He asks rhetorically.

“Another question about me and I’m not saying anything else. I’m running out of patience.”

“Right.” He says, pulling a pen out of his tit pocket and flipping his notebook to an empty page. “So, what exactly were you doing interacting with the Winter Soldier?”

“He came to my dorm really early in the morning and he was all bloody and gross so I patched him up, and let him shower, then he was on his way.”

“And why was he wounded?” He scribbles in his notebook.

“I don’t know.”

“You didn’t ask?”

“None of my business.”

“A man with a muzzle on his face comes knocking at your door at three in the morning while you’re studying for your exams and he’s covered in blood and smells absolutely disgusting, also would be good to mention that he was carrying illegal weapons, multiple daggers, and there was a huge gun on his back, but you don’t question it or report it?”

“Would you question the embodiment of a felony?”

“No.” He admits. “But I would definitely report it the next day.”

“And who is gonna think reported it the next day when he finds out it was reported?” You cross one leg over the other. “Is he gonna think that the cult or whatever illegal makeup Hydra considers themselves reported him to the police, or is he gonna think it was the young little college girl that more than likely would never be able to overpower him and would probably obey simple laws and morals because she goes to medical school and stays up until three in the morning studying wounds.” Ross doesn’t respond, he only asks the next question.

“Have you seen him since that night?”

“Haven’t seen the man since the shooting.”

“Now here comes the big question.” He clicks his pen and closes his notebook. “Why didn’t he shoot you?”

“Would you shoot the person who stitched you up at three in the morning?”

“Well that depends. Am I also a brainwashed murder who can’t think for himself because everything I do is commanded by whomever currently has control over my brain and my current command was to kill every living being who falls into my eye sight? Or am I just me?” He asks, folding his hands and lending over the table.

“What do you mean?”

“Well if you actually payed the slightest attention to the news, you would know that the Winter Soldier has absolutely no control over his actions.” He slides a folder over to you, you open it and the Winter Soldier's face was on the first page with his name printed above it. “His name is James Buchanan Barnes. His friends, or the people who would call him a friend, call him Bucky, but were going to call him Barnes for the sake of time.” He leans back in his chair, locking his fingers together and placing his hands on his stomach. “Now. When he’s not being brainwashed into the Winter Soldier which was a personality created from a vial which makes him pretty damn hard to kill, he’s just a normal dude. He doesn’t remember who he’s killed, what he said, where he's been. When he visited your dorm that night, he was Barnes, just a normal dude aside from the life threatening injuries. But during the shooting he was the Winter Soldier.” He told you dumbly, watching your hands as you slid the folder back over to him. “So it’s not possible that he remembered you. Even if he did remember you, he had some pretty strict instructions to kill anyone he sees. Which should’ve included you, and your friend.”

“What’re you getting at?”

“We don’t currently know who’s controlling him, but you’re the only civilian who we know has been around the Winter Soldier in the past week.”

“Oh you pathetic mother-” You groan. “Really? You guys think I’m the one who’s controlling him?”

“It’s the only reasonable explanation.” He says, giving you a look that said it wasn’t his idea to bring you in, he knew it wasn’t you. “I mean, you took care of his wounds, managed to unlock a muzzle on his face that required a very complicated key or an extremely skilled thief or lockpicker, then while in public he not only did not shoot you but also listened when you didn’t want him to shoot your friend.” He sits up.

“Pretty big coincidence huh?” Was all you had to say. “I don’t know what to say to that other than I have no fucking idea what’s going on. But you should really consider looking into the anonymous tips you were given. I’m curious about whos behind them.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Is it?” You question, sitting back, slouching as you twiddle your thumbs. “Only one person knows my real name of my entire friend group, and he would never tell anyone.”

“Thank you.” Ross stands up, collecting his folders.

“I’m sorry what? Thank me for what?”

“Well you have a very small friend group. About seven people to be exact, two of which your genuinely close to, and both are male, one of which is an avenger so we know it’s not him, so that leaves us with-”

“Edward Leeds.” Phil Coulson walks up to the chubby kid who turned around to the sound of his name. “Phil Coulson, I work with S.H.I.E.L.D, and I’m here to question you about one of your friends.”

“Oh uh, okay which friend?” He crosses his arms. “Also you can just call me Ned. Wait you said S.H.I.E.L.D? Like THE S.H.I.E.L.D? Like the Strategic Homeland Intervention-”

“Yes. S.H.I.E.L.D. Now about your friend.”

“Yea what’s their name?”

“That’s the thing, we don’t remember her name. But here's a picture of her.” He pulls out his phone, and a live video of you shows on the screen, still sitting uncomfortably on the most useless chair on the planet.

“Oh that’s Clover.”

“Her real name preferably.”

“Clover.”

“You’re a very loyal friend Mr. Leeds.”

“Like I said, Ned is okay.”

“Yes but Mr. Leeds is less friendly and it makes you uncomfortable, so I’m going to use that. Now I’m going to ask for your friends real name one more time or I’m going to have to bring you into the interrogation room, same as hers and we have legal authority to torture you since the information could be vital to save thousands or even millions of lives.”

“No.”

“Her name is Jasper.” You smirk as Ned, who was sitting upright next you, his eyes not leaving the numerous torture devices, finally says, and it still isn’t the truth.

“What a friend Ned.” You say, your arms crossed as you try your hardest to look betrayed, even though it was yet another fake name, just one that was actually in the government's database.

“Full name preferably.”

“Jasper Rosefield.” He says.

“Well Ms. Jasper.” Agent Ross says. “Now we definitely know you’re hiding something.”

#marvel #marvel smut #smut #fanfic #marvel fanfiction #bucky #x reader #bucky barnes #agents of shield #nick fury #sam wilson #clint barton #hydra #the winter soldier

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