#so if I had something serious it would probably be dismissed by me and everyone else as lupus | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

warblogs17282 · 19 days ago

Text

Still thinking about the Truth Seekers line where Loona said,

"Blitzo was using a total of zero euphemisms, innuendos, or swears. That means it was serious, which means I don't open it until--"

And now, I'm thinking about all the different emotional and heavy-hitting moments from Blitz, but from the lens of that statement, and I'd like to explore that in a little more depth.

Because I feel like looking through some key moments of Blitz through the lens of that statement helps to add another layer of depth to what Blitz has been saying.

S2 E9:

Blitzo: No, I just- This was the final stop on the apology tour I've been on today.

Stolas: Oh, yes, I recall. Everyone but me is getting your cheap apologies tonight, hm? Well, you certainly have your work cut out for you.

Blitzo: Look, how I acted this morning... It was fucked, okay?

Stolas: This morning? Ugh, why did you show up there? Why'd you show up here?

Blitzo: You already asked that, but look, I-I just really need to... To talk to you, to- to explain.

Stolas: Oh?

Blitzo: I've always been real shit at sorries, 'kay? They're for pussies and no one fuckin' deserves them anyway, but I felt maybe you actually needed one.

Stolas: Ooh, lucky me!

Blitzo: Oh, shit. Okay, what I mean is, I said sorry a lot today and, honestly, didn't really mean any of it. Because the only one I wanted to say it to... Was you, Stolas. I just... This whole thing we had going... I'm- I mean you're a fucking prince. How could you ever actually care for an imp... Me? How could anybody?

Stolas: Blitzo. There is a crowd full of people here, who cared so much, they'd throw an entire fucking party about hating you, every year! Do you know how much you have to care to do something as stupid as that?

Blitzo: Stolas, you are better off without me. 'Kay? You deserve so much... I don't even know why you would want to be with me.

'I mean you're a fucking prince.' Blitz is technically correct here, but if we consider the Truth Seekers statement, I believe it tells us that Blitz, at least subconsciously, sees Stolas as more than just a prince during this scene, he sees Stolas the man here, not just Stolas the prince. And honestly, that probably makes it hurt more to Blitz, since he's still in disbelief/denial that Stolas has these feelings for him at this point.

Especially considering what it's followed up with, which I'd like to mention doesn't have a single swear word in it whatsoever, telling us even more just how sincere Blitz is when he said that final line.

Verosika: How do you think I felt? When the fun guy I was dating decided to just bail on me because I made the shitty mistake of saying I love... Ugh! It was the most embarrassing feeling. To be vulnerable for once and... you really just know how to send a message in the shittiest, fucking way.

Verosika: The worst part is you still make me feel like a bad person for being angry at you now.

Verosika: But, hosting this party, for everyone else you've dicked over? At least I can help others cope with the shit you did. What? No snarky comeback?

Blitzo: No. You're right. I actually am, ya' know... sorry. I-I don't want to be this way. Not forever.

Verosika: Looks like Stolas is having a good time.

Blitzo: Yeah, well. He needs it.

Again, just pay attention to the fact that Blitz didn't swear once during the part of the conversation I just showed, showing once again even more just how sincere Blitz is being here, to not be the way he is forever, to let Stolas have his good time at the party.

S2 E8:

Blitzo: What?! FUCK you, Stolas! You spring this feelings bullshit on me, are you fucking kidding? Can I get a FUCKING minute to think after everything you put me through, you pompous, rich ASSHOLE?!

Blitzo: Treat me like one of your little butler imps?! You can't just dismiss me like that! I mean, you royal fucks think you can do this EVERY TIME, like you can just play with our feelings because we're smaller and not as IMPORTANT! Well, I'm not letting you, BITCH! LET'S GO!

Stolas: Blitzo... I think so very highly of you... I didn't realize you think so low of me...

Blitzo: Stolas, wait! I'm s-

You know, the amount of swearing in that part of the episode tells me something, that what Blitz said during the peak of his outburst was exaggerated a little. Does Blitz make some completely valid points during that outburst? Yes. Is what Blitz said during said outburst a bit exaggerated because he was in the heat of the moment? Yes. Both of these can coexist, and I do completely understand why Blitz said what he said during that argument. (I'm not choosing a side on who was in the wrong in the full moon argument here, btw)

And, the lack of swearing when the realisation hits to Blitz of what he's just done, right as he tries to apologise to Stolas just further tells me that Blitz did genuinely mean that 'I'm sorry', he said right before Stolas teleported Blitz out.

S1 E8:

Blitzo: Fuck, Fizz was right. I'm gonna die alone, aren't I? Just a wrinkly, old, withered, waste. Will you be there, Loonie?

Loona: Be...where?

Blitzo: I dunno, jus- ...lonely... Die alone...

Loona: I'll be there, Dad.

Loona: Now go the fuck to sleep... okay?

Blitzo: Millie... Moxxie... Stolas...

Again, pay attention to the lack of swearing in that part of the conversation, minus one 'fuck' at the start of it, it just adds to showing us just how raw and genuine Blitz's emotions are during this scene, showing us that Blitz genuinely believes that he's gonna die alone, and also showing us just how much Blitz still cares about Fizzarolli, Loona, Millie, Moxxie and Syolas.

S1 E7:

Stolas: You know, I have some more wine in the house. Octavia's with her mother this weekend. So, we could--

Blitzo: I'm not fucking you tonight, okay? I'm really just I'm really not in the mood, Stolas.

Stolas: We could talk, or... watch a movie, or... maybe cuddle?

Blitzo: Stolas, don't act like what we have is anything but you wanting me to fuck you, okay? You make that really clear all the time. But, I just, I-I can't do it tonight, okay?

Blitzo: I'm sorry.

Stolas: Okay. Goodnight, Blitzo.

Blitzo: Night.

What I find interesting here is that the two times the word 'fuck' is used throughout this scene, it's used to replace the word 'sex', so thinking about this scene through the lens of that statement, it shows us even more just how much Blitz believes in what he's saying, especially when he says "Stolas, don't act like what we have is anything but you wanting me to fuck you, okay? You make that really clear all the time."

Finally, S1 E6:

Moxxie: Do you remember what you said to me after my first day with the company?

Blitzo: ...Not really.

Moxxie: I remember. You told me I did a good job and that you were proud to work with me. I feel like you wanted to say something more judgmental, but... you said that because I needed it... And it helped.

Blitzo: Look, I'm hard on you, because I know what you're capable of, Mox. You care too much about what everyone thinks except for... me, because, y'know, my opinion is correct, but just... keep doing a good job. 'Kay? You shoot 'n kill good, you escape things easy... you can be strategic and cold-blooded when you need to, aaaand don't expect any more compliments; I'm maxed out.

Moxxie: Thank you, sir.

Blitzo: You know my name... Use it.

Moxxie: Thanks, Blitzo.

No euphemisms, innuendos or swears, showing us that when Blitz was talking to Moxxie in this scene, that he was 100% being serious in what he said.

So in conclusion: I have shown multiple examples where if you think about them through the lens of the statement "Blitzo was using a total of zero euphemisms, innuendos, or swears. That means it was serious, which means I don't open it until--", you start to see more depth within those examples I have shown in this post.

#helluva boss #blitzø #blitzo #stolas #stolitz #helluva boss stolas #moxxie helluva boss #helluva boss verosika

112 notes · View notes

kayentokk · 6 months ago

Note

Hey :) How are you doing?

Okay so, i wanted to request a platonic father Aizawa in which he is out patroling and he finds his teen daughter doing something ilegal with her friends or something like that.

Please and thankss :)

A/N; I’m okay thanks for asking! Love this idea, I’ve gotten many requests somewhat related to this lately actually! I’ll be posting those throughout the week. Also sorry it’s taken me a while to get to this! 🥲 I truly believe Aizawa is a girl dad and a softie parent.

Pairing; Platonic!Father Aizawa x Fem!Daughter Reader

Contains; a little ooc Aizawa, fluff, soft, drug mentions, reader is about 16-17 like mha characters, quirk-less reader, death mentions, bad friends, comfort

wc; 1,763

You weren’t supposed to get caught. In fact, you didn’t even think you would. It wasn’t a big deal anyways, you only did it because you thought it’d be a way to relax with your friends. Plus, if you guys did get caught your backup plan was your father. It wasn’t like he was going to detain you…right?

Wrong.

You were very wrong to believe that your father wouldn’t take you into custody over a little weed with your friends. You just wanted to have fun! Besides, you didn’t want to be the ‘perfect heroes daughter’ who’s a buzzkill. Why couldn’t he understand that?

There was just so much pressure that came with being the child to a hero. Your friends already joked about how you were too ‘good’ to do anything remotely illegal. Which is part of the reason you were in this situation in the first place.

Of course he just happened to be patrolling around the alley you and your friends decided to get a little high in. That was just your luck, he didn’t seem mad though. So you thought he’d just tell you guys not to do it anymore, and move on. Nope. Leave it to Aizawa to want to teach you a ‘lesson’ all of a sudden. He was normally just a “don’t do it again,” kind of parent. Mostly because you had never done anything of this caliber before.

“Did you really have to bring me in?”

Silence.

“I mean come on, none of the other heroes care. They’re too busy thinking about protecting the city, shouldn’t you be too? Nobody cares about a couple of kids getting a little buzzed, besides everyone does it nowadays-“

“That doesn’t make it okay y/n.”

You’ve rarely seen him like this, so tense. He didn’t look angry, but you couldn’t shake the feeling you got that he was. It was almost….scary.

So you resigned to a simple, “Okay, I’m sorry.” Were you really sorry though? Not that much, you still didn’t see the big deal.

He let out a low grunt, “This is serious y/n, I know you think I’m making a big deal out of nothing,” well he said it first, “but you could’ve been seriously hurt.”

“Hurt? From getting a little high?”

“Criminals lace that stuff all the time, whether it’s with poison, more drugs, or whatever else they decide-“

“Yeah sure, but we got it from a trusted source-“

“And who’s that?” He said crossing his arms.

Oops.

You decided it’d be best not to respond right now. Especially since the source wasn’t technically trusted, just another kid who got it from someone else. Who probably got it from someone else too.

Sensing your apprehension he decide to drop it, “we’ll revisit that later,” he said waving a dismissive hand. “I’ll drop you off at home, you’re grounded.”

You internally groaned at that, grounded? That’s a new one, you were starting to really regret your decision. You should have just told your friends no, even if it meant being the ‘buzzkill.’ Then you remembered, your friends-

“What about my friends?”

“We’re working on calling their parents to come pick them up soon.”

“No!-“ you said sharply, “I-I mean, can’t you just let them off? Or something?”

“You know that’s not how this works, they are already getting off with a minor offense. The worst they’re going to get is their parents’ scolding.”

“Dad! You don’t understand-“

“I understand perfectly fine, a bunch of young kids wanted to ‘have fun’ and thought this was the best way to do it.”

Okay maybe he did understand, but not your side. He didn’t get that now you’d officially be the outcast, the top 10 ranked hero’s daughter who gets everyone in trouble. Does he get how embarrassing that is?

“Come on, let’s get going.”

You stood from the chair leaving the comfort of being shielded, by the small desk separator, from your friends’ piercing gazes. They thought your dad would let you all off too considering the chaos the city’s currently in.

You nervously waved and mouthed a quick ‘sorry’ to them before rushing out the door trying to follow closely behind Aizawa.

You guys didn’t speak the whole way home, you opted for silence mostly because it wasn’t that big of a deal and he just didn’t know what to say. You had never done anything like that before, or had he just never caught you? When did that start?

He remembered when you were little and you’d give your vegetables to stray animals so you didn’t have to eat them, or when you tried to sneak out at night and he caught you. But those were all pretty minor things, and he was only always concerned with your safety.

You’d never done anything this bad, and in terms of the worst thing you could do of course this wasn’t horrible but he still didn’t get why. It couldn’t have just been for fun.

He entered the house after unlocking the door and opening it for you. Before you could make it to your room, where you’d probably go to sulk, he decided he’d ask.

“Why did you want to do that y/n?”

You stopped and turned around to face him. He was standing in front of the door, and now that you actually took in his appearance he looked tired. His dark circles more prominent, eyes a light pink most likely from his quirk, and his black pants had small patches of dust that had been hastily patted off on them.

You replied after a moment, briefly forgetting his question, “For fu-“

“And don’t just say for fun, because I know you and there are plenty of other things you would do for fun.”

You huffed resigning to just come out with it, “it was a bet.”

“A bet?”

“My friends bet me that I wouldn’t get high with them since I’m a hero’s daughter.”

“And you decided to take them up on that?”

“Yes, I know it was stupid okay?”

“I know you know, you’re smarter than that. So why’d you say yes?”

Why’d he have to be so persistent? “Maybe because I thought I’d finally get some friends.”

“What do you mean y/n? You do have friends.”

“No, I don’t. Momo, Tsu, and Uraraka only hang out with me out of pity, since you’re their teacher, if they even have time-“

“Pity? Y/n no they don’t, there’s nothing pitiful about you at all-“

You scoffed, “don’t lie. I get you’re my dad and all but be honest with yourself, truly honest.”

“I am being honest. I’d never lie-“

Guess you’d just have to spell it out for him then. “The only daughter you had killed your wife, was born quirk-less, and there’s nothing special about her!” You were shocked at the admission of your own feelings but kept going, “I don’t have a talent, I’m not exceptionally smart, I’m not breathtakingly pretty, and I can’t even make friends!” You listed raising a finger for each reason, “Now tell me what about that is not pitiful?”

After that question there was silence, and Aizawa was just looking at you. You hadn’t even noticed you were crying until the first tear slid down your nose crease and hit the corner of your lip. Before touching could even wipe your tear or register the sound of footsteps approaching you, you were being hugged. Fully covered by his arms, your head grazing the bottom of his chin where stubble had began to grow, face buried partially into his scarf.

You heard high pitched wailing, which you hadn’t even registered was you until his hand began to rub up and down your back with quiet ‘shh’s to try calming you.

“Don’t cry, it’s okay. It’s not your fault, none of it okay?” He began whispering in your ear.

“Your mom and I both knew the challenges she’d have if she gave birth to you. We were well aware, and she wanted to have you. She didn’t care if she’d die in the process, you are our child.”

He continued comforting you, and when you eventually calmed down he let go and gently pulled your face out of his chest so you could look him in his tired, red eyes. “I love you so much, and I’m sorry if I don’t tell you that enough okay? It’s my fault I’m sorry. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and you’re perfect. I mean that, I’d never lie. You don’t need a quirk, to be super smart, or have a special talent. You’re perfect to me, okay? And that’s all that matters. You’re important to me,” he said firmly.

“Okay?”

You sniffled, reaching a hand to wipe your nose, “okay.”

“Hey,” he said turning your face back to his, “I really mean it, I’d be no where without you. And how could you say you’re not beautiful? I know I’m not the best looking hero, but haven’t you seen the pictures of your mom? You take after her, gorgeous. Nothing I’d ever change about you, I don’t regret anything.”

“Okay,” you said slightly unused to him saying these things, “I’ve never heard you say something so corny dad,” you said chuckling trying to lighten the mood.

At that, he gave a small grin which faded when he remembered your earlier point, “And Ochaco, Tsuyu, and Yaoyorozu do like being your friend. Not just because I’m their teacher, trust me I’m more of a supervisor if anything. I let them figure most stuff out on their own. They wanted to meet and hang out with you. I don’t think you give yourself enough credit, you make friends just fine.”

“I know, I know, it was just heat of the moment stuff dad.”

He let out a sigh of relief, hugged you once more, and pressed a kiss to the top of your forehead.

“I still have about another hour of night patrol, but I’ll stay here if you want me to?”

“No dad, it’s fine go.”

He looked at you once more as if saying, ‘are you sure?’

“Yes I’m sure I’m fine, it’s only an hour anyways.”

“Okay, call me if you need anything, I’ll be back soon,” he said headed towards the door.

“Okay,” you said starting to walk to your room.

But just before he shut the door you dashed for it and started, “Hey! does this mean-“

“No you’re still grounded,” he said.

And with that the door shut.

@/cafekitsune for the divider!

329 notes · View notes

monkishes · 21 days ago

Text

Friendly Fire | 01

genre: college!au, jikook x reader

pairing: jungkook x reader, jimin x reader (eventually…)

summary: You and Jungkook had been friends for quite some time, and it seemed like everyone around you could sense the spark between you. They noticed the playful banter and affectionate gazes he directed your way. However, you were completely oblivious to it all, thinking that your relationship with Jungkook was purely platonic. Little did you know, things were about to get complicated. Enter Jimin, who developed a crush on you. This unexpected turn of events stirred up some jealousy in Jungkook. What will happen next?

warnings: swearing, jk is a flirt…

word count: 2.1k

previous | next

"Are you serious? You should see the way Jungkook looks at you," Leila says, her voice low but teasing as she nudges you.

You roll your eyes and groan, gripping her arm. "Leila, stop. Jungkook's just a friend, okay?"

"Right," Leila drags out the word, her tone thick with sarcasm. "You guys are always flirting, though."

"He flirts with everyone," you say, dismissing it with a wave of your hand. Jungkook's charming with everyone—it's just his personality. You've seen him joke and mess around with practically every girl in your friend group. "It doesn't mean anything."

Leila raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. But before she can argue, something behind you catches her attention, and she smirks. "Speak of the devil. Your boyfriend's here."

You don't even need to turn around to know she's talking about Jungkook. "Leila—" you start, but Jungkook's already beside you.

"Leila," Jungkook says, barely acknowledging her before his eyes land on you. His gaze lingers as a smile tugs at his lips. "You ready to go?"

You blink at him, confused. "Go where?"

He chuckles, shaking his head. "I'm dropping you off, remember? You're so forgetful."

"Oh, right," you say, feeling a little embarrassed. "Yeah, I'm ready."

"Have fun, you two," Leila sings, giving you a knowing wink as she walks away, leaving you and Jungkook alone in the hallway.

Jungkook falls into step beside you as you head for the exit. "What's up with her?"

"Leila? She's just... like that," you say, hoping to brush it off. You know Leila's been teasing you about Jungkook for months now, convinced there's something more between you two. But there isn't. As far as you're concerned, you and Jungkook are just friends, no matter how much Leila insists otherwise.

Jungkook gives a little shrug. "She acts weird around me sometimes. Maybe she likes me."

You snort at that, rolling your eyes. "Yeah, no. She's obsessed with the idea of us being together for some reason."

"Really?" he asks, sounding amused. His gaze drifts to where Leila disappeared down the hallway, and a grin spreads across his face. "She's pretty cute."

You stop walking for a second, feeling a strange twinge of... something. Annoyance, probably. He's never shown interest in Leila before, and now he's calling her cute? "Since when do you care about that?"

He shrugs casually, though there's a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Just saying. She's hot."

"Good for her," you mutter, trying to ignore the small, uncomfortable twist in your stomach. You're not jealous—why would you be? You've never seen Jungkook that way, and he's never shown any signs of liking you. That's just how he is—flirty and playful with everyone. There's nothing deeper to it.

Jungkook shrugs, eyes twinkling mischievously. "You're not jealous, are you?" he says, staring down at you with a small smirk playing on his lips.

You scoff, turning away, even as that strange feeling simmers in your chest. "Jealous? Of Leila? Please."

He looks ahead, the smirk from earlier beginning to grow as he lazily throws an arm over your shoulder, "Good." His tone drops a little lower, playful but suggestive. "You should know by now, I only have eyes for you."

You roll your eyes. "Yeah, right."

His laugh is soft, and you push his shoulder slightly, creating some distance between the both of you and causing his arm to drop from your shoulders.

As you reach the parking lot, you settle into the passenger seat of Jungkook's car and buckle up. Jungkook stays outside, chatting with Jimin nearby. You watch absentmindedly through the window as they laugh together, Jimin catching your gaze for a brief second. He smirks, and you quickly look away, feeling embarrassed to be caught staring.

Jungkook eventually slides into the driver's seat, but instead of starting the car, he pulls out his phone, tapping away at the screen. You glance at him, raising an eyebrow. "What are we waiting for?"

"Jimin's coming with us," Jungkook replies without looking up from his phone. "That okay with you?"

You shrug. "Why wouldn't it be?"

He finally glances over at you, that teasing smirk back on his face. "Just making sure. Wouldn't want you getting shy around him, especially after he caught you staring."

Your cheeks heat up, and you scoff, looking out the window. "I wasn't staring at him."

"Sure," Jungkook laughs, clearly enjoying your reaction. "It's fine, Y/N. He's cute, right?"

You huff, trying to shake off the embarrassment. "Yeah, I guess."

Jungkook leans closer, voice dropping a bit. "He's not cuter than me, though."

You give him a look, rolling your eyes. "Debatable."

His jaw drops dramatically. "Wow. After all I do for you?"

"Relax, I'm joking," you say, unable to hide your grin. "You're cute, too."

"Too?" he repeats, mockingly hurt. "I'm cuter. Admit it."

You shake your head, laughing softly. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

Before he can respond, Jimin knocks on the window, and Jungkook unlocks the door for him to hop into the backseat.

"Finally," Jungkook says as Jimin gets in. "Took you long enough."

Jimin rolls his eyes. "I was saying bye to Namjoon."

"Hey, Y/N," Jimin says, flashing you a friendly smile. "You weren't really staring at me earlier, were you?"

You feel your face heat up again. "I wasn't!"

Jimin laughs, leaning back in his seat. "Don't worry, I'm flattered."

Jungkook, however, doesn't seem as amused. "Alright, alright, enough," he says, a hint of something almost territorial in his voice. "She's off-limits, Jimin."

Jimin raises an eyebrow, smirking as he glances between you and Jungkook. "Off-limits? She's not your girlfriend, Jungkook."

"Still," Jungkook mutters, his grip tightening slightly on the steering wheel.

You frown, turning in your seat to look at Jimin. What's that supposed to mean?

Jimin meets your gaze, clearly enjoying how flustered Jungkook's getting. "Jungkook's acting all protective over you. It's cute."

Jungkook shoots Jimin a glare through the rearview mirror. "I'm just looking out for her. She doesn't need you messing with her."

You laugh awkwardly, not sure what to make of this conversation. Jungkook's never acted possessive over you before, and you can't quite figure out why he is now. But it doesn't mean anything—it's probably just his way of teasing.

Jimin raises his hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay, I'll back off." He winks at you playfully, adding, "But for the record, you are cute, Y/N."

"Thanks," you mumble, feeling your cheeks burn again as you quickly turn back around.

Jungkook scoffs, shaking his head. "Dickhead."

You glance at him, confused by his reaction. He's never cared about guys complimenting you before, so why is he acting all weird now? But you brush it off. Jungkook's probably just messing around like he always does. There's no way he actually cares.

The rest of the ride is quiet, save for the soft hum of music playing in the background and the occasional breeze through Jungkook's open window. Jimin keeps to himself in the backseat, and you steal a glance at Jungkook, who seems unusually focused on the road. Maybe it's just been a long day.

When Jimin's finally dropped off, Jungkook exhales, as if he's been holding his breath the whole time. You look over at him, confused by his sudden change in mood, but decide not to ask. Whatever's going on with him, it'll pass.

You're just friends, after all. Nothing more. Right?

As Jimin disappears into his apartment building, the car feels oddly quiet, the weight of the earlier conversation still lingering. Jungkook taps his fingers on the steering wheel, his usual easygoing demeanor replaced with a subtle tension you can't quite place. You glance over at him, wondering if you should say something, but he seems deep in thought, his eyes focused ahead as he pulls back onto the road.

"So," you start, trying to break the silence, "what was that all about back there?"

Jungkook glances at you briefly, but his expression is unreadable. "What do you mean?"

You shift in your seat, turning toward him. "You know, the whole 'off-limits' thing with Jimin. You've never cared when people flirted with me before. Why act weird now?"

He's quiet for a moment, the only sound being the soft thrum of the engine as he drives. You can see his jaw clench slightly before he responds, his tone light but a little strained. "I just didn't want him to make you uncomfortable. That's all."

You raise an eyebrow, not quite buying it. "Jimin wasn't making me uncomfortable. He was just joking around."

"Yeah, well," Jungkook shrugs, "I know him. He pushes things too far sometimes."

You narrow your eyes at him, but he keeps his gaze stubbornly on the road, not giving you much to go on. You've seen Jungkook brush off other guys' comments about you before, never giving them a second thought. So why does this feel different?

"Okay, but you were acting kinda... protective," you point out. "Like you were actually bothered by it."

He scoffs, shaking his head with a small, humorless laugh. "I wasn't bothered, Y/N."

You cross your arms, eyeing him suspiciously. "Could've fooled me."

Jungkook finally glances at you, and for a second, his eyes are searching, like he's trying to figure out if you're serious. Then he sighs, turning back to the road. "You're overthinking it."

"Am I?" you ask, leaning back in your seat, not entirely convinced. There's something about the way he's avoiding the question that makes you feel like you're missing something. But it's Jungkook, and over the past year and a half of being friends, you've never once gotten the impression that he saw you as anything more than that, and you really hope he didn't.

Still, you can't deny the way he acted earlier was... off.

The rest of the drive passes mostly in silence, save for the occasional hum of the radio and the sound of the city fading into the distance. It isn't until you pull up in front of your building that Jungkook finally speaks again.

"Hey," his voice is softer now, the tension in his shoulders easing as he shifts in his seat to face you. "I didn't mean to make things weird earlier. Jimin was just being annoying, and I—"

"It's fine," you cut him off, waving a hand dismissively. "I get it. You were just looking out for me."

He studies your face for a second, like he wants to say something more, but instead, he just nods. "Yeah. Exactly."

There's a pause as you both sit there, the quiet settling around you again. You can feel his eyes on you, like he's waiting for something, but you're not sure what. You look back at him, offering a small smile.

"Thanks for the ride."

Jungkook's lips curl into a half-smile, but there's something in his expression that's harder to read now, like he's holding something back. "Anytime."

You unbuckle your seatbelt and reach for the door handle, but before you can open it, Jungkook's voice stops you.

"Y/N."

You pause, glancing back at him. "Yeah?"

For a moment, he doesn't say anything, his gaze flickering to the steering wheel before he looks back at you. His eyes are softer now, more vulnerable than you're used to seeing. "You know... if there's ever something bothering you, or if anyone gives you a hard time, you can talk to me, right?"

You blink, a little taken aback by the sudden sincerity in his tone. "Of course. I know that."

He nods, his smile returning, though this time it's more genuine. "Good."

You feel a warm flutter in your chest at the look he's giving you—kind, reassuring. It's the same look he always gives you when he's trying to be the good friend, the one who's always there to have your back. And that's what you are, after all—friends. Nothing more.

With that thought firmly in mind, you smile back. "Thanks, Jungkook. I mean it."

"No problem," he says softly, his gaze lingering on you for just a beat longer before he adds, "Get some rest, okay?"

You nod, finally opening the door and stepping out of the car. "You too. Drive safe."

As you close the door and make your way toward your apartment, you can feel his eyes on you until you're out of sight. There's a strange feeling lingering in the pit of your stomach—something you can't quite put your finger on—but you shake it off, chalking it up to the weirdness of the day. You've never thought of Jungkook as anything other than a friend, and he probably doesn't think of you that way either.

But as you close your door behind you and lean against it for a moment, you can't help but replay the way he looked at you tonight, like there was something more he wanted to say.

#bts #bts ffs #jungkook ff #jungkook x reader #jimin x reader #bts x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jimin fluff #jimin smut

84 notes · View notes

heavcnslyre · 1 year ago

Text

chapter six — j.f. ( masterlist )

THIS IS ME TRYING.

“and my words shoot to kill when i’m mad

i have a lot of regrets about that.”

taglist: @jellybassett @glowingtree @always-reading @yla-aira @infinitywarnatenthusiast @imogen-skye @ilovegilmoregirls @lucidlivi @rubydubytuby @creepynativekid @miniemonie2001 (comment or message me to join!)

you sat alone in your room for a while, attempting to calm yourself down. it really seemed stupid after a while, honestly. jeremiah was probably just trying to be nice, and she might find someone else to bring her anyways. it wasn’t something you had to freak out about.

jeremiah knocks on your door after almost an hour.

“come in,” you call out. you’re laying in your bed, aimlessly scrolling on your phone. jeremiah comes in and smiles at you softly, then takes a seat on the edge of your bed.

“moms are back,” he says. “storms pretty much let up now, but they’re still trying to figure out the power.”

“that’s good,” you reply. he studies your face.

“is everything okay? you…left kinda abruptly.”

you look down at your hands. “oh, uh, yeah. i just…i don’t know.”

“what is it, (y/n)?” jeremiah asks, his tone serious. you look up at him.

“are you seriously going to be belly’s escort?”

he flinches. “oh. that. yeah, i think so. i mean… she told me that apparently conrad asked to be her escort but he’s been so shitty to her lately i just figured that i would do something nice for her. why not, right?”

“yeah, sure,” you say dismissively, rolling your eyes up to the ceiling. “why not?”

“what’s the problem, (y/n)?” he asks genuinely. you sigh and shake your head.

“why is she the exception for you, jeremiah?” you ask. “why, out of everyone, is she the exception?”

he stares at you, confused. “what the hell are you talking about?”

“every single time a debutante ball has ever been brought up you’ve sworn to never be an escort in your life. why is now your one exception?”

“why does it matter?” he asks. “i care about belly. of course i’m going to do something nice for her. why are you so mad about it?”

“are you kidding?” you ask, anger suddenly rising in your chest. “do you not remember when i was going to be a debutante last year?”

“(y/n), what does that have to do with me?”

“the day we sat down at dinner and i said that i was thinking about being a debutante. you immediately sat there and scoffed, and said that debutante balls were terrible and you would never be an escort,” you shake your head. “i gave up on being a debutante after that.”

jeremiah’s voice dropped. “but, why? why did my opinion matter to you? you had so many guys who would have been your escort.”

“you were the only person i would even consider asking, jeremiah,” you blurt out, and he lifts his head in surprise.

“what?”

“i genuinely cannot believe that you don’t know this already,” you run your hand through your hair. “i wanted to be your exception, jere. i would’ve loved to be a deb if you were my escort. but you couldn’t stand the idea of being my escort, could you?”

“(y/n), if i had known…” he trails off. you shake your head.

“whatever, okay?” you say. “it doesn’t matter anymore. i’ve moved on from it.”

“you could have told me,” he says.

“you really don’t get it, do you?” you ask. “you made it such an obvious point to bring that up in that moment. you knew what you were doing, jeremiah. you didn’t think of me the same way. it’s whatever. be belly’s escort. she deserves to have someone who cares about her.”

“why do you just assume i was trying to hurt you?” he asks, his tone suddenly defensive. “why couldn’t it have been an honest mistake, that i didn’t realize you thought of me like that?”

“what do you want me to think, then? that you tried to hurt me or that you’re blind?”

“you’re being ridiculous.”

“ridiculous? really?” you scoff. “how more obvious could i have fucking been? the last three summers i have done nothing but basically throw myself at you and you just—“

“no!” he yells, suddenly standing up from your bed. “no, (y/n), you don’t get to do this! you came here this summer with a boyfriend and didn’t tell me! we got so close this past year and you never fucking told me you had a boyfriend, so i walked in to this summer stupidly thinking that now was our time for something to happen. then you drop that fucking bomb on me and expect everything to be normal? you cannot call me blind when all summer you’ve been the one pretending that everything is as it’s always been.”

“jeremiah, you’re literally not listening to me,” you reply, mirroring his frustrated tone. “everything is as it’s always been to me because you’ve always treated me like this! you’ve always acted like i was so special and then walked away from me into the nearest arms of some other guy or girl! you’ve never made your feelings clear. i’m so fucking sorry that me getting a boyfriend ruined all of your plans for us that i was never a part of.”

“you’re such a fucking hypocrite,” he groans, running his hand through his hair. “you’ve always done the same thing! neither of us have ever expressed our feelings to the other. you cannot place all of this on me!”

“whatever, jeremiah,” you say, not looking at him. “whatever makes you feel good about yourself.”

he stands there and stares at you for a moment before turning around and leaving your room, slamming the door behind him. for what felt like forever, you sat motionless, staring at the door behind him. your mind was racing. jeremiah fisher just admitted he has feelings for you. that was a conversation you had imagined in your mind for years, but this wasn’t at all how you wanted or expected it to go. part of you hated yourself for being so harsh. maybe he truly just didn’t see the signs you gave him. maybe he talked himself out of believing them, just like you had for so long. but part of you was relieved that you got those feelings out. being in love with someone brings about positive emotions, but no one talks about the genuine resentment that goes along with the pining. as your feelings grew, so did the pain. a weight was lifted off of your shoulders. but, a new, maybe even heavier one replaced it. you just had the biggest fight of your lives with your best friend. no matter what, your friendship had to come first.

as much as you do genuinely believe that, you are still beyond pissed at him. you have so many unanswered questions that you aren’t even sure how to ask him. part of you talked yourself out of even believing that he had meant that he had feelings for you, but you had to try to ignore those thoughts, or else you knew you’d make things worse.

although it was still early in the evening, shortly after he left, you put your phone down and go to sleep. you decide that being asleep was better than having to stay up and think about that conversation. the power still wasn’t on, and it continued to rain outside for a while, the dark sky being a pretty good representation of how you were feeling. as dramatic as that seemed, it really was true. you felt so shitty. that was truly the only way to describe it. shitty and pathetic.

#jeremiah fisher #jeremiah fisher x reader #jeremiah fisher x y/n #jeremiah x reader #tsitp conrad #tsitp cast #tsitpbookseries #tsitp spoilers #tsitp belly #tsitp steven #tsitp s2 #tsitp #tsitp fanfic #tsitp jeremiah #belly conklin #steven conklin #conrad fisher #the summer i turned pretty

525 notes · View notes

kjack89 · 7 months ago

Text

Dial Drunk

5 times Enjolras bailed Grantaire out of jail, and one time, well...

The door of the holding cell clanked open and as one, the nine men sitting inside glanced up. “Alright,” the booking officer said in a bored tone, glancing down at his clipboard. “Bail’s been posted for arrestees Bahorel, Combeferre, Courfeyrac, Enjolras, Feuilly, Joly, Lesgle and Prouvaire. You’re free to leave after you sign out at the front desk.”

There were a few grumbles as the men started to get to their feet, but Enjolras remained resolutely seated, his brow furrowed with a frown. “What about Grantaire?”

The man in question chuckled darkly, tilting his head back to rest it against the wall of the holding cell. “Is that actual concern for me that I hear, Apollo? I could die happy.”

Enjolras ignored him. “Pontmercy was supposed to post bail for all of us,” he said instead, aiming his words at Courfeyrac as if the man was somehow still responsible for the actions of his former roommate some five years after they had stopped living together.

Courfeyrac just shrugged. “Don’t look at me,” he said. “I mean, we all know Marius is a bit of an idiot, maybe he miscounted.”

Combeferre shook his head. “I’m probably wrong and should defer to the lawyers amongst us but I thought I remembered reading something in one of the articles about reforming pre-trial detention that an individual can only post bail for 8 detainees at a time.”

“And so I must’ve drawn the short straw,” Grantaire sighed. “Story of my fucking life.”

Bossuet clapped him sympathetically on the shoulder. “On the other hand, you could take it as a compliment that Marius thinks you’re the one most likely to survive an extended stay behind bars.”

Bahorel snorted so loudly the bars of the cell almost rattled. “Sorry but literally not a single one of us would survive an extended stay behind bars.”

“Speak for yourself,” Feuilly said. “I know how to whittle.” At the blank looks he received, he huffed a sigh and added, “So I can make a shank. No wonder none of you would survive in jail.”

“This is making our goal of prison abolition seem oddly self-serving,” Joly murmured in an undertone to Jehan, who stifled a laugh.

Combeferre cleared his throat. “Not that I’m not sympathetic to Grantaire having to be stuck in here, but I’d just like to remind everyone that since Marius posted bail, we’re technically now here voluntarily.”

“Yeah so GTFO,” Grantaire said with a grimace masquerading as a smile. “Let me rot in peace, etcetera.”

Enjolras looked like he wanted to argue more, but Combeferre muttered something in his ear and he made a face before filing out of the cell. “Serious miscalculation on Marius’s part with this one,” Courfeyrac said brightly as he followed everyone else out. “Because God knows you’re going to complain about this for the rest of all time.”

Grantaire gave him the finger and Courfeyrac winked as the officer closed the cell door behind him.

Sighing again, Grantaire sat upright, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck before settling back against the bench. “You need anything?” the booking officer asked.

Grantaire shook his head. “Nah,” he said dismissively. “Not my first rodeo. Hopefully I won’t be stuck overnight, but I’ve slept in worse places.”

“Oh, yeah?” the officer said with mild interest.

Grantaire nodded. “Central booking at the 16th Precinct is a piece of shit,” he said brightly.

The officer barked a laugh. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He gave Grantaire a long look. “Should I ask what you were picked up for previously?”

Considering the answer to that question was a vast litany of misdemeanors (and felonies reduced to misdemeanors) that the boys in blue tended not to appreciate, Grantaire hesitated. Thankfully, he was saved from having to answer at all by the crackle of the officer’s walkie-talkie. “Just a moment,” the officer told him, heading out of the booking area and Grantaire let out a sigh of relief as he slumped on the bench.

“You’re free to go,” the officer said upon returning, and Grantaire looked up, surprised.

“Really?”

The officer nodded, opening the door to the holding cell. “Bail was posted. So I guess you’ll have to save your rap sheet for the next time you’re in here.”

Grantaire snorted a laugh. “I’d say there won’t be a next time, but…”

He ducked out before the officer could respond to that, making his way to the front desk, stopping in his tracks when he saw Enjolras leaning against the desk, clearly waiting for him. “What’re you doing here?”

Enjolras straightened. “It didn’t feel right leaving you in there,” he said with a shrug that didn’t quite come across as nonchalant as he’d probably intended. “And I happened to have some cash on me, so…”

“Between this and being worried about my welfare, you’re gonna give me the wrong impression,” Grantaire said.

“Guess that depends on what impression you’re getting,” Enjolras said, and Grantaire’s eyes flickered to his and away again, feeling suddenly tongue-tied. Enjolras cleared his throat, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “Anyway, we should get to the Musain to debrief.” He glanced at Grantaire. “Unless you’ve got something better to do.”

Grantaire just shook his head, and gestured for Enjolras to lead the way. “After you,” he said, his voice low, and together they walked out of the precinct, their arms just brushing against each other as they headed to meet their friends at the Musain.

— — — — —

“Jesus Christ,” Enjolras muttered as the booking officer removed the handcuffs from a sheepish-looking Grantaire. Well, as sheepish as a man sporting the beginnings of a pretty impressive black eye could look, anyway. “Here,” Enjolras said roughly, holding an ice pack out to Grantaire. “I posted your bail as well.”

“Thanks,” Grantaire muttered, taking the ice pack and wincing as he pressed it against his eye.

Enjolras pursed his lips as he gave him a once-over. “Any other injuries I need to worry about?” he asked.

Grantaire just shrugged. “Nothing that won’t heal on its own.”

“Because that’s reassuring,” Enjolras sighed, rubbing his forehead, but when he looked at Grantaire again, there was something almost soft in his expression. “You didn’t need to do that.”

What he could see of Grantaire’s expression tightened, just slightly. “You didn’t hear what that guy called you.”

He said it calmly, evenly, but his hand automatically balled into a fist at the memory. Enjolras reached out automatically to rest his hand on Grantaire’s fist until it relaxed. “It doesn’t matter what he called me,” he said, his voice low. “I can take care of myself.”

“Of course you can,” Grantaire scoffed. “But that doesn’t mean you should have to.”

Enjolras just shook his head, running his thumb across Grantaire’s bruised knuckles, a testament to the fact that despite the black eye, he’d emerged from the fight victorious. “I should’ve brought another ice pack,” he murmured.

Grantaire just half-smiled, twisting his hand so that he could lace his fingers with Enjolras’s. “It’s fine,” he said softly. “It doesn’t really hurt at the moment anyway.”

Enjolras cleared his throat and looked away, but he didn’t try to untangle his fingers from Grantaire’s. “Well,” he said, “we should, uh, get out of here.”

“Before they realize you have about a half dozen outstanding warrants for your arrest?” Grantaire asked with a smirk, his voice quiet enough that only Enjolras could hear.

“You’d be amazed what having a multi-million dollar settlement pending against the city will do to the police’s willingness to bring you in,” Enjolras said with a smirk. “Not that I want to test that, of course.”

“Liar,” Grantaire said, grinning. “But better safe than sorry, I suppose.”

He started toward the door, pausing when Enjolras didn’t immediately follow. “Thank you, by the way,” Enjolras said, and Grantaire glanced back at him.

“Anytime,” he said simply. “Thanks for bailing me out.”

Enjolras gave him a look that was half-amused, half-exasperated. “Just don’t go making a habit of it,” he warned. “One day I won’t be here to bail you out.”

“Only because you’ll probably be locked up with me,” Grantaire said.

“Well,” Enjolras murmured, not quite able to stop his smile, “you’re not wrong.”

— — — — —

Grantaire rested his elbows against the bars of the holding cell, his arms dangling into what was technically freedom on the other side. The booking officer, some new guy he didn’t recognize, gave him a look but didn’t say anything, which he took as a small victory, and he allowed himself a small smirk.

A smirk that faded as soon as he saw Enjolras, escorted by another officer. “No dice on bail?” Grantaire asked, seeing the look on Enjolras’s face.

Enjolras shook his head. “No, they’re going to go through the whole arraignment rigamarole. I’ve already let Pontmercy know.” He made a face, casting an irritated look at the booking officer who was pretending not to listen to their conversation. “Apparently they take battery of a police officer pretty seriously these days.”

“Can’t imagine why,” Grantaire muttered. Enjolras sighed and Grantaire gave him a look. “Don’t even start,” he warned. “This wasn’t about you not being able to take care of yourself—”

“That wasn’t what I was going to say,” Enjolras interrupted, his voice tight. “I’m well aware that cop would’ve bashed my head in if you hadn’t intervened.” He shook his head and sighed again. “I was going to say thank you.”

“Oh,” Grantaire said, managing a tight smile. “You’re welcome.”

Enjolras just shook his head again. “You still shouldn’t have done it,” he continued, “because honestly, I’m not worth all that—”

“You are, though,” Grantaire said, in a tone that brooked no argument. Enjolras scowled and Grantaire rolled his eyes. “Fine, then why don’t we make a deal?” he said. “I’ll stop defending you when you stop bailing me out.”

“At the rate you’re going, I won’t be able to anyway,” Enjolras said sourly. “Not without putting up some major collateral.”

Grantaire shook his head. “And I’m definitely not worth that,” he said.

Enjolras’s eyes met his. “You are, though.”

For a moment, it looked like Grantaire might argue. Instead, he reached for Enjolras’s hand, bringing it up to kiss his knuckles through the bars of the holding cell. “No touching,” the booking officer barked, and Grantaire rolled his eyes as he reluctantly let go of Enjolras’s hand.

“Will you be at my arraignment?” he asked.

Enjolras shrugged. “Someone’s got to post whatever bail amount the judge decides,” he said.

Grantaire half-smiled. “In that case, I’ll be the one in the front.”

“Pretty sure that’ll be the judge,” Enjolras murmured, grinning when Grantaire rolled his eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I promise.”

“It’ll be the only thing that gets me through spending the night in here,” Grantaire told him, and it was Enjolras’s turn to roll his eyes, though there was obvious affection in the motion.

“Pretty sure Bahorel was right,” he said. “You definitely wouldn’t survive in jail.”

Grantaire just shrugged. “Only if you were in there with me.”

Enjolras shook his head, reluctantly backing away toward the door. “Still time,” he said, and Grantaire’s eyes narrowed.

“Don’t you dare do anything stupid while I’m locked up in here.”

Enjolras just smirked. “See you tomorrow,” he called over his shoulder as he left, and Grantaire sighed, though there something strangely content in the noise, despite, or maybe because of, the circumstances.

— — — — —

Grantaire didn’t meet Enjolras’s eyes as he rapped his fingers impatiently against the front desk at the precinct, waiting for them to bring him his personal effects. “Do you have any idea what time it is?” Enjolras asked, his voice tight. Grantaire looked pointedly at the conspicuous clock on the wall and Enjolras’s scowl deepened. “Exactly, it’s 2 in the fucking morning. I have a 7 o’clock meeting, which you knew damn well, so why you had to go pick a bar fight with some guy twice your fucking size—”

“So sorry to be an inconvenience to you,” Grantaire drawled, slurring his words just slightly. “Can’t imagine what it must be like to have made plans that get interfered with by someone else’s priorities.”

Enjolras ground his teeth together. “Are we really doing this here and now?” he asked.

Grantaire just jerked a shrug, not meeting his eyes. “Do you have something better to do?”

Enjolras sighed and scrubbed a tired hand across his face. “I’m sorry that I had to cancel tonight,” he said, with as much patience as he could seemingly muster, considering the circumstances. “But I needed to get this proposal done ahead of the meeting tomorrow, and I don’t really see what the big deal—”

“You never do,” Grantaire interrupted, still not looking at him. “That’s the problem.”

“You knew going into this—”

“Just like you knew going into this that I’m a drunk and a disaster,” Grantaire interrupted, finally looking at Enjolras, his expression hard. “Well, congratulations, Apollo, it looks like we both knew what we were getting into and yet somehow, we’re both still disappointed.”

Enjolras just shook his head. “I’m not,” he said tiredly. “I’m not disappointed, Grantaire, because that would require me to actually expect better from you, and I learned my lesson on that a long time ago.”

Grantaire just grinned, a horrible, twisted grin. “Right back atcha.”

The officer returned with Grantaire’s belongings, and Grantaire grabbed his phone, wallet and keys, returning them to his pockets. Enjolras took a deep breath, but whatever he clearly wanted to say seemed to stick in his throat, and he looked away. “C’mon,” he said instead. “Let’s go home.”

Grantaire nodded once, shoving his hands in his pockets as he slumped after Enjolras, neither man touching the other.

— — — — —

“He’s not technically under arrest,” the cop told Enjolras as he led him back to the holding cell. “But that’s because we couldn’t really mirandize him when he was passed out.”

Enjolras eyed Grantaire, sprawled across the bench in the holding cell, and sighed. “So once he’s coherent, he’ll be charged with, what, drunk and disorderly?”

The officer nodded. “Yeah.” He glanced at Enjolras. “Look, it’s not my place, but, uh, maybe look into getting your friend some help?”

“Yeah,” Enjolras murmured, his expression drawn. “Maybe.” He sighed and turned. “Guess I’ll go preemtively pay his bail—”

“Apollo?” Grantaire croaked, and Enjolras sighed again.

“Give us a moment?” he asked the officer, who just shrugged.

Enjolras crossed to the bars of the holding cell, his arms crossed tightly in front of his chest. “Tell me,” he said, his tone clipped, “were you trying to get hit by a car by passing out in the street, or would have just been a fun little side effect of this spectacular attempt at blowing up your life?”

Grantaire groaned as he forced himself into a sitting position. “Honestly don’t remember if it was deliberate or not,” he muttered, swaying slightly as he blinked unfocusedly at Enjolras.

“There are easier ways of killing yourself,” Enjolras said.

Grantaire managed a small, sharp smile. “Don’t worry, I’ve considered those as well.”

Enjolras’s expression tightened and he looked away. “You used your one phone call for me,” he said.

Grantaire shrugged. “Didn’t know who else to call.”

“Probably anyone besides your ex.” Grantaire flinched and Enjolras sighed before telling him, as firmly as he could manage, “This is the last time. Do you understand?”

Grantaire barked a dry, humorless laugh. “If there’s one thing I can promise, Apollo, it’s that this won’t be the last time.”

“Maybe not for you,” Enjolras said. “But I’m done. So the next time you get picked up for a bar fight or public intoxication or whatever suicidal shit you decide to get yourself into next time, call someone else.”

He didn’t wait for Grantaire to answer, just turning on heel to leave him in the holding cell while he went to go pay his bail.

One last time.

— — — — —

The phone rang, and rang again, and Grantaire’s grip on the phone tightened. “Come on,” he muttered to himself. “Come on, pick up, pick up.”

But the phone just rang until the tinny, robotic voice informed him that no voicemail had been set up for this phone number, and he heaved a sigh as he hung up, a headache blooming in his temples that had absolutely nothing to the better part of a handle of whiskey that he’d worked his way through that evening.

“Nothing?” the booking officer asked, and Grantaire ground his teeth together at the fake sympathetic tone.

“Nope,” he said, popping the ‘p’, and he scrubbed a hand across his face before heading back to the holding cell.

The booking officer trailed after him. “Do you, uh, want to try calling someone else?”

Grantaire just shook his head. “No,” he said, crossing his arms in front of his chest as the officer opened the door of the cell for him. “I’ll try again later. He’s probably asleep.”

The officer glanced up at the clock that showed it was barely 10pm, and he shook his head as he closed the door after Grantaire. “Your choice,” he said with a shrug.

Grantaire sighed heavily as he slumped down onto the hard metal bench, his fingers twitching as if he wanted to reach for an absent glass or bottle of beer, or else for a hand that used to be his to hold. His throat felt tight and he swallowed hard, tilting his head back to rest it against the wall of the holding cell.

He closed his eyes against the tears that he could feel prick in the corners of his eyes, though he honestly didn’t know if he was crying because Enjolras hadn’t picked up, or because there was a part of him that still thought that maybe, in the morning, he would. One more time.

#ExR #Enjolras x Grantaire #Enjoltaire #Enjolras #Grantaire #Les Amis #fanfiction #Les Miserables #modern AU #5+1 things #developing relationship #established relationship #and because it's me #former relationship #mild angst

101 notes · View notes

sara-scribbles · 1 year ago

Text

The Littlest Dragon (Part 3)

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Malleus Draconia/GN!Reader Summary: Your quiet life as a herbalist is disrupted when you take in an injured dragon Word Count: 5,482 Notes: So, I wrote this with the idea that there's still room to grow in regards to relationships. This is the last part, so enjoy! Warnings: None

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

“I’ll let my grandson show you around. But we must have tea tomorrow.” With a wave of her hand, she dismisses the two of you.

You follow Malleus through the rose garden. “Is she…is she always like that?” you ask after a moment of hesitation.

He takes your hand as he answers. “She can be…eccentric. She’s a wise and kind ruler, but grandmother has always had her own ways of doing things.”

There are many twists and turns to the rose garden. “She wasn’t serious, right?” He raises an eyebrow. “That I should call her grandmother?”

“Once she’s made up her mind, it’s best to just go along with it.” He holds your hand gently. “Don’t worry. She likes you almost as much as I do.”

“She called me adorable…” you mumble. Perhaps she sees you as a cute little human. Though you can only assume everyone looks little to her. She even towers over Malleus.

Malleus chuckles. “Do you take offense to that?”

“No… I just haven’t been called adorable before.” Shaking your head, you shift the conversation to the roses. “These are beautiful. There’s so many too!”

Pausing, he reaches out to gently touch a rose. “Can you believe these started out as a handful of seeds? I’ve taken care of them for so long, I almost forget how barren the garden used to be.”

“You did all this?” Eyebrows shoot up. “That’s amazing! I can’t imagine the time and dedication this would take.”

Turning to you, he asks, “Do you like roses?”

“Sure. I think they’re beautiful .” Shrugging, you reach out to touch a rose. The petals are like velvet against your fingers.

“Do you have a particular flower you like?” he probes further.

The entire garden smells of the soft rose scent. “Not really. I mean I’ve never given it much thought. There are so many flowers, how can I pick just one?”

“Hmm… I see.” He thoughtfully looks at the roses. Finally he turns back to you. “Shall I show you the rest of the castle?”

“Lead the way!” Giving his hand a squeeze, you meet his affectionate gaze with a dazzling grin.

---

Standing in the guest room alone, your eyes are still wide with shock. The place is much larger than your own cottage. You're pretty sure you could fit five cottages in the room. After Malleus had shown you around the castle, complete with the history, he dropped you off at the guest room. He promised to let you know when dinner would be served.

Feeling completely out of depth, you wonder if you’ve packed the right clothes to have dinner in a castle. Probably not. You’re almost too afraid to touch anything in case you break something. However, the large bed looks so inviting, you can’t resist.

Kicking off your shoes, you launch yourself onto the bed with a laugh. The moment your body touches the sheets, you never want to get up. The silky sheets and soft mattress is heaven on earth. Letting out a deep sigh, you’re tempted to fall asleep.

But first, you need to unpack and get into something for dinner.

You’re changed when someone knocks on the door. When you open the door, you’re not met with Malleus. Instead, a fae with magenta streaks in his dark black hair smiles back at you. “Hoho, I finally get to meet the famous potion master!” he chortles.

“Uh…”

“I’m Lilia, Malleus’s caretaker of sorts.” He heartily shakes your hand. “Well, let’s get going. Don’t want to leave the queen waiting.”

As you follow him through the halls, you ask, “So you’ve been taking care of Malleus since he was young?”

“That’s right! I remember like it was yesterday when he had an egg shell stuck on his face.” He briefly touches the tips of his hair. “You know, once he set my hair on fire by accident.”

“Really?” It’s hard to imagine him doing anything like that.

He leads you down a flight of stairs. “He was young, so he didn’t have much control over himself. I’ll have to show you some pictures later if you’re interested.”

The idea of seeing pictures of a baby Malleus does pique your interest. “I’d like to.”

“Wonderful!” Clapping his hands together, he stops in front of a door. “I have to go get Mallues, but enjoy your chat with the queen.”

“W-wait! Alone?” He’s gone before you can protest. Standing in front of the door, you wonder if you can just sneak off for a bit until Malleus comes. You’re not prepared to speak with her alone.

“Please come in, (Y/N).” Her voice rings loud and clear despite the closed door.

Swallowing nervously, you slip inside. The queen sits at the head of the very long banquet table. You notice some fae standing off to the side. One directs you to the seat on her left. The seat to her right is set but empty.

She smiles widely when you meet her gaze. “I thought we could talk while Lilia fetches my grandson. The palace is quite large, so it might take them some time. You don’t mind, do you?”

You feel heat prickling along your neck. “O-of course no-not, your highness.” She gives you a sharp look. “...grandmother.”

A pleased smile falls on her lips. “So, tell me about yourself.”

“Myself?” You uselessly point to yourself.

She nods. “Yes. My grandson has told me all about you. But I want to hear it from you.”

“Um, well… I run make potions for clients who send requests. I also sell them in town to the general store. I was taught to make potions by Divus Crewel. Uh, I live in a cottage outside of town with three chickens and a goat.”

She drums her fingers on the table. You notice the wicked looking nails. “Tell me, do you enjoy making potions?”

“Yes, I do.” You answer without hesitation.

Her keen eyes watch you closely. “Why?

You blink a few times. It’s been awhile since someone’s asked you that question. “ I know those without magic can have fine lives, but I wanted to do more. I decided that if I can’t cast spells, I wanted to make potions. For me, making potions is like casting a spell, it can do just about anything. And if what I create can help someone, that’s even better.”

She regards you quietly. You’re unsure what else to say. “I see. Your honesty is refreshing. I was half expecting you to spout some noble reason. My grandson has chosen well. You have a good heart, I can tell.”

“Th-thank you.” Her praise is honestly a little embarrassing.

She sighs. “Seems our little chat has to be cut short.” The doors to the dining hall open, and Malleus strolls in. He glances between you and his grandmother. “Malleus, we’ve been waiting for you.”

His eyes narrow. “Lilia informed me dinner was running behind…”

She feigns ignorance. “Really? Nothing out of the ordinary has happened.”

He takes the seat across from you. “I hope grandmother wasn’t making you uncomfortable.” His gaze softens when he looks at you.

“Nonsense! I was just telling your friend how wonderful I think they are.” She grins, flashing her sharp teeth.

You give him a small reassuring smile. There’s not much else you can say as the food quickly arrives.

“Do you always eat like that?” you ask Malleus. You're almost close to bursting. Everything was delicious of course, but by the time dessert arrived, you were ready to pass out.

After bidding the queen a goodnight, the two of you leave the dining hall. With your arm looped through his, Malleus guides you back to the garden. “Tonight was a special occasion, so the cooks made a little extra.”

“A little?” You don’t want to imagine what a lot would look like. “Hey, where are we going?”

Though dark, magical lamps float around to light to way. “I wanted to show you my favorite spot.”

The air is cool but pleasant. You’re not too concerned about where Malleus is taking you. You trust him. Winding through the garden, the bright moon shines a spotlight. It almost feels magical. Malleus leads you out of the garden bounds and deeper into the woods that surround this side of the castle. Everything here is overgrown and wild. You come to a clearing with a large, clear lake.

In the distance the crickets chirp and frogs call to each other. The moon reflects on the lake making the water glimmer. “Wow…” You’re in awe at the natural wonder.

Sitting at the edge of the lake together, your feet hang off the edge. “It’s been abandoned for years, so no one comes.”

You find yourself leaning into his side. “Do you come here a lot?”

“It’s quiet and peaceful.” Sitting there staring at the lake, you can almost forget everything else. Malleus hums a tune under his breath.

The yawn you’ve been trying to suppress manages to escape. He chuckles. “Guess I’m more tired than I thought.”

“Shall we return to the castle?” Nodding, you take his offered hand.

---

The next day, you’re woken with knocking. Lilia is there once more with a bright smile. “The queen would like to have breakfast with you.”

“Oh, okay. Um, let me get dressed.” You wonder how early, or late, it is. You slept like a rock.

Once you’re properly dressed, you meet Lilia outside the room. He leads you to the garden, easily navigating the castle’s twists and turns. “Did you enjoy dinner?” he asks.

“Yes. It was all very delicious!” Your stomach grumbles at the thought of breakfast.

“You should try my cooking one of these days. I’d love to share a meal,” he offers. His eyes seem to glimmer at the idea.

Nodding, you offer him a tentative smile. “That would be nice.”

His smile widens. “I’ll hold you to that!”

You arrive in the garden where the queen waits. She greets you the moment you arrive. “Good morning, my dear. Did you sleep well?”

Taking a seat, you find yourself trying to straighten your posture. “Yes. Everything was so nice,” you lie. How can you tell her that you barely got any sleep? Even though everything about the bed should have sent you to dream land, you spent most of the night tossing and turning.

She chuckles. “Lovely.” Turning to Lilia, her mouth curls upward. “Please get my grandson, Lilia.”

“Of course, your majesty.” He gives a bow before leaving.

The queen returns her attention to you. “While Lilia fetches Malleus, why don’t we talk some more. I’m sure you have a few questions.”

Fiddling with the napkin in your lap, there are a few things that have been nagging you. “So, I was told the reason Malleus was in that form was because of a punishment?”

“Yes,” she sighs, “sometimes punishments are necessary. He was neglecting his duties as prince and future king. Despite my repeated warnings, he continued to wander off for hours on end.”

“Wasn’t there anything less…extreme you could’ve done?” you ask. “I mean, he did get kidnapped by a demon bird and hurt,” you point out.

She takes a sip of her tea before continuing. “Not to worry, dear, I knew where he was at all times. And if I hadn’t punished him like I did, you wouldn’t be sitting here. That would be such a shame…”

As food is placed on the table, you glance around for Malleus. He still hasn’t arrived. “I guess something good came out of it,” you mumble. You can feel her sharp gaze on you. “…did the spell do anything else?”

She ponders for a moment. “Hmm… It did limit his ability to use magic as well as reduce his cognitive functions to more simple, basic instincts. But nothing else. Of course, his magic was already working on breaking the curse from the inside when you encountered him.”

“Is that why he was so affectionate? He was always asking to be held or cuddled…” you muse aloud. You remember all the times he would cuddle with you or beg for your attention in dragon form. You just thought he was naturally affectionate. However, Malleus as he is now isn’t as touchy though he does like to hold your hand.

The queen laughs, head thrown back. The gold chains in her horns jingle as they shake. “My, that's a site I’d like to see!” She shakes her head as her body shakes. “I can only guess that part of it was due to the spell. However, Malleus is very fond of you, so I believe he wanted to express his feelings in some way..”

Your face warms at her words. It’s odd hearing that from his grandmother, and she seems to approve. Yet, you haven’t really heard the words from Malleus’s mouth. You wonder if you ever will. Or will you continue to stay in this strange not-quite-something limbo?

Her features shift into a pleasant smile. “Good morning, Malleus,” the queen greets. He easily slides into the seat next to you.

“Good morning, grandmother. It seems I’m late for breakfast this time.” He gives her a pointed look, but she ignores it.

She takes another sip of tea. “Perhaps you should go to bed earlier so you’re not late next time?”

He can only sigh.

---

Malleus leads you to the training grounds. As you approach, you can hear the clang of metal. Silver and Sebek are sparring in the ring. You stand at the edge watching them.

“Why do they train with swords if they can use magic?” you inquire. They both move quickly back and forth.

“Because it’s good to train all muscles, physical and magical,” comes a voice from above you.

Jumping, you jerkily look up to see Lilia floating upside down. He gives a wave. “Oh! I didn’t see you…” Your heart nearly lept out of your chest.

He descends back down to the ground. “I saw you two coming down the path a while ago. Finally introducing me to your friend, Malleus?” He lightly elbows Malleus in the side.

“Lilia, this is (Y/N).” He gestures between you two. “Lilia has been my caretaker since I was born.”

You shake hands. He has a strong grip for someone his size. “It’s nice to officially be introduced.” Despite his youthful appearance, you wonder, for the third time since meeting him, how old he actually is. If he’s been taking care of Malleus since birth, he must be over a few hundred years old. Your head spins just thinking about it.

“Do you know how to fight?” Lilia asks suddenly.

“No, I never really found the need to. I stay close to the village, the cottage, or the nearby woods.” Life has always been somewhat uneventful. “My two friends know how to fight since they go out adventuring.”

He eyes your form. “Hmmm… I think you could handle a sword. Would you like to learn?”

Eyes widening, you look at Malleus. He looks calm as ever. “I-I never thought about it. Um, maybe?” It wouldn’t hurt to know how to defend yourself.

“Alright. Later, I’ll teach you how to wield a sword.” He points at the two still sparring. “They need to cool down first.”

The two come to a draw. As they wipe the sweat from their forehead, they finally seem to notice you. Sebek immediately rushes over. “Lord Malleus! Forgive me ignorance, I didn't realize you were here!” He bows a few times.

“It’s okay, Sebek. I was just showing (Y/N) around.” He rests a hand on your shoulder. You unconsciously lean into him.

Sebek’s brows knit together as he straightens up. “I see…” You can see him biting his tongue. Probably doesn’t want to yell at you in front of his prince.

Silver joins while handing Sebek a bottle of water. “Stay hydrated.”

You smile brightly. “Hello, Silver,” you greet. He is the nicer of the two.

“Oh, hello, (Y/N).” He gives you a brief nod. “Fath-Lilia, what else are we doing today?”

The shorter fae glances up at the sky. “We’ll take a break for today. I can make lunch!” Both men visibly blanch. You feel Malleus stiffen as the hand on your shoulder briefly tightens. “I promised to make something for (Y/N),” he continues, not noticing the sudden change in demeanor.

Malleus quickly butts in. “Actually, we have plans…”

“What a shame. Next time?” Lilia sighs, shaking his head sadly. “Guess that means more for you two!”

Before you can say anything else, Malleus quickly guides you away. You briefly see the pleading looks from the other two. Once you’re far enough away, Malleus relaxes. “You don’t want to eat Lilia’s food. It can fell even the mightiest of beasts,” he informs you.

“Oh…” You just escaped possible death it seems.

---

Night time falls quickly and you share another meal with the queen. You’re laying in bed staring at the ceiling. Unable to sleep, you roll over on your side. The curtains are drawn back, and you can see the large moon hanging in the sky. It’s strange not making potions or picking up ingredients. You almost feel like you’re wasting time.

There’s a soft knock on the door that has you sitting up. You wait a few seconds and there’s another knock. Slipping out of bed, you open the door a crack to Malleus standing there. “Malleus? Is something wrong?”

“I couldn’t sleep. I was wondering if you’d like to talk like we did before?” You can hear the hopeful tinge in his tone.

You fully open the door and gesture for him to come in. “Sure. I couldn’t sleep either actually.” Sitting down on the plush carpet, you lean against the side of the bed. Malleus joins without complaint.

There’s a pause before he asks, “How are you liking your stay so far?”

You grin. “No complaints! The food is delicious, the accommodations are really nice. And I’m enjoying the time I get to spend with you. Your grandmother is also really something.”

“But?” He can see right through you.

Sighing, you lean your head on his shoulder. “But I do miss home. I know I’ve only been away for two days, but I just miss it.”

“I can take you back if you want. I don’t want you to be unhappy here,”he says while reaching for your hand. He laces his finger with yours.

“I’m not unhappy, Malleus. Just a little homesick.” You give his hand a squeeze.

He hums. “I can understand that…”

There’s a heavy silence between you two. You don’t want to leave, but you also can’t shake the feeling of wanting to go home. “Malleus?”

“Hmm?”

You sit up in order to look him fully in the eyes. “Would you like to go back with me for a bit? I know I was supposed to stay here for a week or so, but how about you stay with me for a little? Now that you’re no longer in dragon form, I can take you around town, and you can officially meet my friends.”

“You truly wish to introduce me?” He blinks a few times.

“Of course! I met your friends and family. It’s only fair if you meet mine. I want you to meet them since you’re…you’re special to me, Malleus.”

Lips pulling into a smile, his sharp teeth glint in the moonlight. “Thank you. You are special to me as well.”

---

“Young master, please let me come with you!” Sebek begs. You can see the tears in his eyes.

The next day, Malleus had informed everyone he would be returning home with you. The queen immediately gave her blessing. You’re surprised she’s willing to let him go since he’d technically be neglecting his duties. You do stay for a most of the day before preparing to leave.

Lilia chuckles as he side-steps the prostrating half-fae. “Have fun, you two. Ah, to be young…!” He claps Malleus on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about us, we’ll be okay.”

“We look forward to your return,” Silver says with a bow.

The queen leans over and whispers something in his ear. His eyes widen a fraction before he composes himself. She laughs and presses a kiss on the top of his head. “Take care, my dear.”

Malleus gives them one last farewell before walking over to where you’re waiting. He wraps his arms around your form. “Hold on tight.” Even as you’re teleported away, you can hear Sebek’s cries.

Eyes adjusting to the light, you’re standing in front of the gate to the cottage. “I think I’m getting used to that,” you mumble, still trying to clear your head. You can feel Malleus hovering in concern, but quickly reassure him you’re fine. “Well, at least the cottage is still standing…”

Walking through the gate, the three hens are there to greet you. They loudly cluck around your feet. “Hello, Flora, Fauna and Merryweather,” Malleus greets with a slight incline of his head. The three leave you to flock around his feet.

“Seems they like you. Maybe they remember you from before,” you comment with a chuckle.

The door of the cottage opens as Ace steps out. “Oi! Why are you making so much noise-...!” His eyes widen when he sees you. “What are you doing here?!”

“Nice to see you too, Ace,” you comment dryly.

“Ace, don't be mean to the chickens!” Deuce comes rushing out but knocks into Ace. “Ooomf!” He stumbles back a bit before glowing at the redhead. “Hey, wha-...!”

“Hey you!” You wave. Dumbfounded, the two are speechless for once. You notice their gaze is squarely focused behind you.

Malleus is busy petting Philis on the head while murmuring something to her. He glances over when the silence stretches. “Are we going in?” he inquires.

“Yeah. I need to unpack.” Malleus gives Philips one last pat before following you. You lead him by the hand past the two still gawking. “The inside doesn’t look bad either,” you note after doing a quick look.

You set down your bag on a chair. “Are you two going to stand outside all day?”

Breaking out of their stupor, they shuffle inside. They each give Malleus a hesitant look before looking back at you. “Y-your back early,” Deuce comments, finally.

“I missed home. And I thought it would be nice for Malleus to meet you two. You know since the last time you saw him he was smaller.” You look at them expectantly.

Ace blurts out, “You tried to roast us alive! Twice!”

Letting out a deep sigh, you pinch the bride of your nose. “I apologize for that,” Malleus says. “I was not fully myself at the time. I was only trying to protect (Y/N).”

“I’m pretty sure the second time was because you call him fat,” Deuce mutters.

You steer the conversation away from roasting. “Anyways, that’s all water under the bridge. I’m going to put my things away, so I’ll be right back.”

You ignore their protests. Up in your room, you unpack all your clean clothes before storing them away. The clothes you did wear are tossed in the laundry hamper in the bathroom. Standing in the middle of your room, you let out a satisfied sigh. It might not be as grand as the guest room you stayed in, but it’s your place.

Back downstairs, it’s dead silent. The two sit on the couch ramrod straight. Malleus is perched on the other chair staring at them. “Did I miss some riveting conversation?” you tease.

Malleus shakes his head. “Your friends seem a bit…intimidated by me.” He turns to them with a frown on his lips. “I do apologize if I’m making you uncomfortable. I sometimes have that effect on people…”

Rolling your eyes, you give the two a look. “He’s not going to roast you.”

“He’s a prince!” Deuce squeaks out.

Ace is bewildered at your nonchalance. “Dude, he’s fucking royalty and you’re just…just you!?”

“Hmm?” Malleus tilts his head to the side. “If you want, you can think of me as just another fae. Since we are not in Briar Valley, my title should not matter. Right?”

“...”

Walking over, you bop the two over the head. “Give them a day, and they’ll get over it,” you tell him. “Why don’t you two head back to the guild? I’ll bring Malleus by tomorrow.”

The two leave while casting one last glance behind them. Closing the door, you let out a sigh. “Well…that went about how I expected.” Shaking your head once more, you aren’t too surprised at how they acted. “Do you want something to eat?”

Thankfully the fridge is stocked. You notice a box from the local bakery. “That explains why there’s food,” you mumble to yourself. Trey must have dropped by to make sure everything was okay. You’re glad you had the foresight to ask him.

“Can I help?” Malleus asks.

Grabbing a few things to prepare a meal, you hand them to Malleus. As you prepare dinner, Malleus follows your instructions. It’s almost like those times he would help you set the table when in dragon form. Though, it is quicker having an extra pair of actual hands. Dinner is nowhere near as grand as you had with his grandmother. But Malleus seems just as happy to be eating the smaller meal.

Now the only issue at hand is where he’ll sleep. The couch looks woefully small now that you’re looking at it. Sure Ace and Deuce have crashed on the couch in the past, but they’re not as tall as Malleus.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” you ask, holding out an extra blanket.

“Of course.” He takes the blanket from you along with his specialized pillow. “I don’t require much sleep, so I may spend time in the garden out back.”

“Alright…” You hesitate but he doesn’t seem bothered. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night.”

“Good night, (Y/N).” You give him one last look before heading upstairs.

Sleep eludes you once more. Though it’s your bed, you can’t seem to get comfortable. Perhaps it’s due to a certain someone downstairs sleeping on an ill-sized couch. Thinking back to when you used to snuggle with Malleus in dragon form, he was like a warm pack. There was something comforting in having him curled against you.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, you get out of bed. You grab a sweater from your closet. Heading downstairs, Malleus is not on the couch. You head to the garden in the back. He’s sitting on the bench looking up at the sky. He turns as you come closer.

Brows creasing, he moves over. “Can you not sleep?” Sitting down, you scoot closer to him. Malleus immediately wraps his arms around your form. You lean against him with a smile.

“Yeah… It seems I haven’t been able to sleep well for a few days.” Really if you think about it, you haven’t slept well since he left. However, you ignored the thought in favor of going about your daily life. But it seems the lack of good sleep is finally catching up.

He’s silent as you close your eyes. The night is filled with different sounds. “I could not sleep either,” he confesses after a while.

“Hmm?”

“It seems I have gotten used to sleeping next to you. Fae don’t need much sleep, but even the little I do require has been fitful,” he continues. “I miss your warmth. There was a sense of comfort being in your arms.”

Your heart thuds loudly. He says all this without a hint of embarrassment. You’re not sure what to say. Instead, you keep quiet. “You know, my grandmother said something interesting before I left.”

“Oh?” You do recall the slight surprise in his expression.

His hand, which had been tracing patterns on your arm, stills. “She said that I shouldn’t let you go.”

Your breath hitches. “...”

He chuckles. “I agree with her on that. You know what they say about dragons and how they’re greedy creatures. I want to keep you all to myself.”

Sitting up so you can look at him fully, you're taken aback by the intensity of his gaze. “Malleus…” You break eye contact, unable to hold it. You remember wondering if you’d ever leave that strange limbo of not being quite something with him.

He holds out his hand. “I have a gift for you. May I?” You give him your hand without hesitation. Holding your hand palm side up, he pulls something from his pocket. A small round device is placed in your hand.

Your brows furrow as you inspect the device. You recognize it as one of the old children's toys. It was very popular when you were a child. You wanted one but could never afford it. “This is…”

“Gao-Gao Drakon-kun was a gift from Lilia. It’s my most prized possession. I’ve been taking care of it since I was child,” he explains. His gaze softens at the memory. “I want you to have it.”

“No!” Hurt shines in his eyes. “ I mean I can’t take something that’s your most prized possession, Malleus!” You quickly shake your head. You suddenly feel the weight of the palm sized toy.

He closes your fingers over the toy. “I want you to have it. As a symbol of my affections and trust. I wouldn’t trust just anyone with Gao-Gao Drakon-kun.”

Chewing on your lower lip, you hold the toy close to your chest. “I- thank you for trusting me with something so precious.” Slipping the toy into the pocket of your sweater, you take his hand.

Fiddling with his fingers, you stare down rather than at him. You’d probably lose your nerves if you did look him in the eyes right now. “I don’t really have a prized possession, but I want you to know I care about you. Immensely.” You interlace your fingers together. “I want to spend more time with you, Malleus.”

You glance up to see his reaction. His eyes are wide with his mouth slightly open. Then, he breaks into a beautiful smile. “I wish to spend as much time with you as possible as well. We can figure things out as we go.” There’s a sense of relief that washes over you.

Reaching up, you frame his face. You press a soft kiss to his forehead. Pulling back, you can’t help but laugh at his slightly dazed expression. It very much reminds you of that time you kissed him in his dragon form. He’s adorable in either form.

“Come on, let's go to bed.” You take his hand and lead him back inside. You make sure to grab his pillow from the couch before heading up to your room.

Tossing the extra pillow on the nearby chair, you place Malleus’s pillow down. You take Gao-Gao Drakon-kun out of your pocket and place it on the bedside table. Slipping into bed, Malleus pulls you closer to his side. With his arms wrapped around you, it’s pleasantly cozy.

A yawn escapes your mouth. “Good night, Malleus.”

He lets out a content sigh. “Good night.”

It’s the best sleep you have had in a long time.

---

“Check mate.” The queen smiles. “My, it almost feels like you let me win, Lilia.”

The former general chuckles. “Of course not, my queen. I was merely distracted.”

She waved her hand and the pieces moved back to their original spots. “That doesn’t sound like you at all. What’s on your mind?”

Leaning back in the chair, Lilia regards her with sharp eyes. “Something about the day Malleus was kidnapped by a demon crow has been bothering me. You see, I remember distinctly that you were in the garden having tea. And from where you sat, you could easily see what was happening.”

“Hmm… I was enjoying such a lovely new blend on that day,” she sighs at the memory.

“Well, I’m sure being as powerful as you are, my queen, you could have easily taken down the creature. Yet, if I remember correctly, you just looked on.” Lilia leans forward placing his folded hands under his chin. “Could it be that you wanted Malleus to be taken away?”

A single eyebrow goes up. “Are you accusing me of orchestrating my grandson’s kidnapping?”

“Kheehee… Just thinking aloud.” He bows his head with a grin still on his lips.

She reaches for a pawn while chuckling, “Well, if I did play a hand in that, it’s worked out better than anyone could imagine. However, those two need to figure out the rest for themselves.”

“Oh? No more meddling?” He slides a pawn forward.

She returns his grin with a wicked one of her own. “Only if I think it’s necessary. Though, it looks like they’re on the right track.”

Tagging: @starsilluminateourgalaxy @stormyovent0aster @hanafubukki @mscarterakaviola98 @sparkleypancakez @youaskedfurret @yokokai @hajimeseyo @ravenlking @peter-the-pan @enchanted-nerd @nocturneabyss @chaasworld @lechuko @bloomsapphire @amar-farashaa @itszzmoon @xlifexdeathx @supernovaicloud @mysterypotatoink @illytian @depressed-bitchy-demon @cheyuma @liquidfurby @bigcandlesmolbrain @thetruepair @chibishae34 @strawberry-soap-bar @sus0daddy @inana-mm @liliaviper @musclefanatica @loivre @chuchotheblackcat @lorkai @ennonzi @yo4sblog @aloodonut @deepdinosaurwizard @zozoni @nightqueensk @barbatos-mybeloved

#twisted wonderland #twst imagines #twisted wonderland imagines #malleus draconia #twst malleus #malleus draconia x reader #malleus x reader #reader insert #scenario

588 notes · View notes

soxcietyy · 8 months ago

Text

Temptation

Chapter 3 -> Chapter 4

Your dad is tired of you bringing home these unworthy men. None of them being fit to take care of you or to be given the family business since you are the only daughter. He decides to find you someone fit to be your husband and receive help from the father of the church. That’s when you meet Yuta, though just because he goes to church doesn’t mean he’s much of a saint

Mafia, murder, violence, mentions of religion, (will contain other things in the next chapters)

"We’re going to get married father." Yuta says as the both of you sat down in front of him. He sat in his chair with his arms crossed and his eyes closed. Clearly not asking him but telling him his plans.

You turned to look at Yuta in shock as the words fell out his mouth. The hairs standing up on your body but you couldn’t tell if it was because the room was a bit chilly. You couldn’t quite grasp the idea of you guys getting married so soon. You guys had just met not even two days ago and he’s already attempting to get married?! You look back at the father to see if he had anything to say about this bizarre request. You doubted he would even go through something like this. Marriage was something really serious and something to not be played with. It took people month, even years to decide if they want to be married.

He looked at Yuta before sighing and taking out a really old broken down planner. Using his shaking skinny finger he guided himself through the pages until he found what he was looking for.

"Next month Saturday is available."

You stood up abruptly making the both of them look at you. "Father don’t you think it’s too soon? I mean we just agreed on being in a relationship yesterday." Both of the men looked at each other communicating with just a blink. You could see Yuta lift his chin up at the priest signaling for him to say something.

"Listen y/n, I think this would be a beautiful thing. A man and a woman coming together to become one. Then you’ll have kids and have a happy family. Your what? in your twenties? Our life expectancy is only sixty-six. It’s better to start off early." He says as he starts writing something down.

Yuta had yet to say another word. He’d gotten his point across and would like to not waste his breath on a meaningless conversation. Clearly you were the only one with a right state of mind. Though the way they looked at you with a look of pity made you feel defeated. You slowly descended back down to your seat. What would your dad say about this? He’ll probably be happy and will congratulate you guys on it. Everyone you know is going to be shocked when they find out you’re getting married next month.

The father ended up dismissing the both of you. You tried not looking upset but it was hard. Wrapping your hand around Yutas arm you walk down the pavement. He could tell you were upset but he really didn’t know how to deal with such an issue. Though if he wanted to get married without a problem he would have to learn how to deal with you and your feelings.

Stopping his steps, he grabs you and sits you down on the concrete part of the fountain. Water sprinkled on your hands as the water from the fountain fell.

"What’s wrong sweetheart? Are you upset because I want us to get married?" He asks.

You knew how horrible it would sound if you said yes. You also couldn’t bare to see his upset face at all. But you didn’t want this relationship to be built off of lies. Relationship where about communicating, getting along and understanding each other.

"Yuta, don’t you think this is too Soon? What if we’re not compatible for each other?" You say as he caressed your cheek.

You somehow melt into his hand and enjoy his warmth. The sun shines brightly over you guys making his dark blue eyes seem lighter. His dark and scary mask he wore seemed to have melted off.

"Do you want me to tell you the truth? But you can’t get mad at me okay?" He runs his thumb under your eye.

You nod at him as you put your hair behind your ear.

"Your dad has some thugs after him and well obviously they’re going to be after you too. He wanted us to get married so I could provide protection for you. You know he has a lot on his plate right now and I’m just trying to help him out." Yuta study’s your face carefully, trying to read you like a book.

"So you’re just with me because of that?" Your eyes begin to water.

You felt like such an idiot thinking he liked you. Him and your dad had played you like a fool.

"No- obviously not , I fell for you the second I saw you at church, When you shook my hand, when I bought you that rosary. I fell harder when we had a conversation. When I met your dad I was trying to convince him to let me have a chance with you. He then told me his situation and lucky for him because I had all he wanted. Someone he knew that would keep you safe."

He brings you into a hug and pats the top of your head. "If people know you’re married to me then they won’t lay a finger on you or your father." He says soothingly. "I know you wouldn’t want to see him hurt."

"But what if we end up divorcing?" You look up at him with a sad look.

"I don’t believe in divorces sweetheart, I’d be an idiot to let you go."

You hug him hard, maybe he wasn’t such a bad person after all. He was looking out for you and your family. Not just any man would take such responsibility. Maybe it was love at first sight. You move your hands down his body and feel something hard on his right side. Backing up you open his coat to see a gun snugged in there.

Yuta looks down at it, "emphasizing on the protection" he smiles and closes his coat back up quickly.

You wernt the biggest fan of weapons. To be honest they scared you. How could something so small create such an impact of someone’s life? Why were they so easy to acquire? Something so deadly should be locked away.

You watch as he grabs something from his pocket and get on one knee. Opening it he reveals a ring inside. "I’m sorry I couldn’t make this as special as any girl would want. I’m not good at things like this." Yuta says. "But will you marry me?"

You couldn’t help but let out a laugh. Not because you thought this was stupid but this was a really poor attempt. A girl would be enraged if they were to get proposed to like this. Thankfully you were that easy to keep happy. You tell him yes as you throw yourself onto him. His breath being halted by your chest that squash the side of his face. He slips the ring on you immediately before he could loose it. He stood up and kissed you so passionately that the two of you almost ended up falling in the water fountain.

"You’re going to be quite busy this month with planning our wedding." Yuta says as he lifts you up and walks you to the car.

"What? are you not going to help?" You ask

"I am but I want to give you the opportunity to make this wedding to your liking." He grabs your hand and kisses it.

When you got back to your new home you ran upstairs leaving Yuta to pick up everything you dropped in the entrance. That being your coat, purse, heels and Bible. You were just so excited to start planning that you went to look for a pen and any empty notebook. When you did find one in his nightstand you took it and sat on the floor that had bedding on it. Last night Yuta had slept on the floor while you slept on his bed.

"You think I’ll be able to join you on the bed tonight? My back is killing me." Yuta said as opened the door.

He put everything where it belonged and sat on the floor with you.

Last night you were getting into bed but quickly hopped right off when you noticed that Yuta was getting in the same bed as you. He had a look of confusion as he tried to figure out what he did wrong.

"We can’t sleep together until we’re married." You had said.

Yuta ignores you and proceeded to get comfortable in bed so you took one of the blankets he had over him. You then walked to the couch and laid down while throwing the blanket on top of yourself. It was important for you to follow gods word. If he had an issue with it that then it was his problem. Before you could fall asleep you felt as two arms picked you up and placed you back on the bed.

"Yuta we cant s-"

"I’ll sleep on the floor." He grumbled.

You chuckle as you looked at his tired face. He did look like he had little to no sleep last night. You couldn’t lie you did feel bad for taking his bed. The poor guy was too tall, he couldn’t even sleep on the couch.

"Marriage yu." You say as you began writing.

You watched as he stopped moving for a second and stared at you eyes wide. "What did you just call me?" He asks.

"Yu! It’s your nickname, or would you prefer honey?" You smile.

You could see his ears turning red as he turned away embarrassed. "I don’t care for such names. Call me whatever, I’ll respond."

"Well Yu, I would appreciate it if you could give me a phone book and a list of contacts we can rely on." You say.

He quickly stood up and went to look for the items.

After five hours of planning you guys decided to take a break. Who knew planning could be so draining. It made you wonder how your mom did it. Yuta ended up falling asleep leaning against the wall and you were drifting off on his lap. Closing your eyes completely you began to drift into a peaceful sleep. That was until the phone started ringing next to you. You jolt up, being awaken by the loud ringing. You quickly grab it to answer it so it would not wake up your fiancé. You felt like letting him rest since allegedly he got no sleep because of you.

"Hell-"

"Don, where are you?! We have been ambushed and have lost five men. Hakari is going to kill us if you don’t show up in an hour. He’s furious about the undergroun-"

"Sweetheart you shouldn’t be taking calls that arnt for you." Yuta snatched the phone out of your hand. You gasp at the sudden surprise but you don’t say anything. He gave you an innocent smile as he rubbed your shoulder helping you recover from the scare. You could have sworn he was dead asleep while ago.

"I’ll be there under an hour. Next time when you call me. Make sure you hear my voice before saying anything." Yuta said before slamming the phone down. Any harder and it would have broken into pieces.

He closes his eyes and lets out a loud sigh. Whatever that was about must of been bad. "I’ll be back sweetheart, need anything from the store?" He asks before kissing you.

You shake your head as you watch him grab his things. He looked pretty annoyed but any work call would be annoying. At least that’s what you figured.

—————

"What is going on here, just look at this mess." Yuta said as he walked into a casino with multiple body’s laying on the ground. Thank god it was an old abandoned one. As he walked deeper into the place he could see more and more men on the floor. He didn’t really care for them though since these guys were people who were in depth to him. He would never send his own men to do something like this unless it was urgent.

In this business world you leave the dirty work to the people who ask you for favors. That’s why he had the poor priest wrapped around his finger. The father had begged Yuta to get revenge on these some men who raped his wife. So he did, but it came with a price. That’s how he ended up with his now fiancee and how he continues getting whatever he wants.

"Okkotsu! When was the last time we’ve seen each other? Last thing I heard you was when you were about to get married." Hakari’s voice yelled out an echo following right after.

He was sitting on a chair with his legs wide open. He held a gun on his left hand and a stack of papers on the other. From the looks of it he guessed this had something to do with blackmailing. Not that Yuta cared because it wasn’t towards him. Snapping his attention back to the conversation he puts his own gun away.

Hakari was right the last time they saw each other was when he was about to get married. Someone decided to shoot his bride to be a week before the wedding. That was something he had yet to figure out who was behind it but he had to let it go. If he tried investigating it you would be questioning too many things.

"Right, how are you and your lover? Surprised they haven’t had a bullet put in between there eyes. You know, since they’re not actually a girl." Yuta leans on an old counter.

Hakari grits his teeth as he tries to think about something to fire back. "Hey man you promised to keep it hush hush. Listen you can’t keep holding that against me." Hakari throws his hands up.

If people were to see Hakari and Yuta together in public they would think they were quite close. They wouldn’t be wrong though, they’ve known each other for a long time now. Sometimes things got too heated and his lover would have to step in to calm him down. If it wasn’t for them there would be a war.

"Nobody told you to have sex in the room five minutes before OUR meeting." Yuta crosses his arms. "Ever heard about being professional Don?"

"Obviously I have, anyways sorry for your partners, had to put them out. They tried to steal things that they owe me and well they couldn’t pay it back." Hakari grabbed a wad of hundreds from his pocket and smacks on a dead person face. You could hear the harsh slapping from the impacts.

Yuta had no reason to be here at all. This seemed like a personal issue not his. Hakari throws a bottle of liquor towards Yuta which he easily caught. He turned the bottle to look at it.

"Found it, probably taste immaculate since it’s been aging in here." Hakari grins.

A couple of drinks wouldn’t hurt. He had come all this way for nothing and this whole wedding thing was stressing him. Last time his dead fiancé did all the planning. She was a beautiful young lady with a poor background. She didn’t have much to offer but Yuta didn’t mind as long as he got a kid. Unfortunately he had came home to see her hanging from the ceiling, clothes ripped off and blood smeared everywhere. Her skin pealing off slowly from being skinned. It was truly a horrible sight to see and he regrets not being a better fiancé. Hopefully he could be a better version of himself so he can keep you safe. The last thing he needed was another dead wife to be. Opening the bottle up he waterfalls a good amount before closing it and sliding it back to its owner. His friend couldn’t help but smirk.

"Word on the street is that you’ve been smiling more than you usually do." Hakari laughs as he takes a gulp of the liquor down. "And that your being so nice to everyone including your own employees."

Yuta rolls his eyes. He wasn’t much of a smiler at all actually. He was just doing it to please you and to get on your good side. He was happy to know that you were so easy to please. You talked a bit too much but it doesn’t hurt having someone to have a conversation with.

"Who’s the lucky girl?" Hakari asks.

"You’ll find out at the wedding. Can’t say much about her unless I want her to end up like the other one…" that’s when it hit him. " fuck I need to go." Yuta stood up panicked.

"Already? You just got here! Don’t tell me that woman has you wrapped around her finger." Hakari yells as Yuta walked out.

He was stupid, such a fucking idiot to leave you home alone with nobody guarding the house. Hopefully Hakari would do him a solid and clean up the place unless he wanted to get arrested. The law has been a little to quiet recently. Meaning they were surely planning something.

He speeded back home with his gun’s already loaded. Not quite knowing if he should go with a rifle or a gun that had a silencer. Would he want to be loud and let them know he was here or sneak up on them? He also had to think about all of the places anyone would hide in his house. He had to play his cards right or that was it for him. If Inumaki was here this wouldn’t be as bad but he decided to take a last minute trip to Mexico.

His heart sank when he arrived at the place. The gates were wide open. He always locks the gates no matter where hes going. Running out the car he barged into the house with his small gun out. His chest would rise up and down heavily as he scanned the room.

"Sweetheart." Yuta calls out to you.

His eyes stayed on the stair case hoping you would appear and greet him with your warm smile. Yet you didn’t and he didn’t get a response out of you either. This couldn’t be happening already, he’d just gotten with you two days ago. Checking every room he slowly made his way upstairs. Making sure to check every door, cabinet, and anything that a person could fit in. He’d then lock each door so nobody would get in the ones that were deemed safe. He finally reached the master bedroom, he didn’t know what to expect but prayed for the best. Opening it slowly he looked inside to find it empty.

For a second he felt relived until he realized the most important thing was missing. Not only that but the room was a disaster. Everything was scattered on the bed and floor. Your heels were still here and even your purse. Did they kidnap you?! He stalked across the room and grabbed the phone. As he started to dial a number he heard shuffling in the bathroom. His eyes slowly moved towards that direction as he put the phone down. Yuta opens the door and is stunned to see you naked.

"Yu!" You shout as you cover yourself.

He turned around feeling sorta embarrassed. "Sweetheart I called your name and you didn’t answer." Yuta says.

"I was taking a bath! Sorry for the mess out there. You haven’t bothered to get my clothes from home nor have gotten the chance to buy me any."

That’s right he said he was going to do that. He’ll have to send someone with you because there was no way he was going to be caught dead doing such thing for a women. If members saw him they would make fun of him for days and call him soft.

"Can you leave so I can change?"

"Right sorry." As he was heading to the door a thought came to mind. The words Hakari said before he left. Why does she think she can boss you around?

Turning around to look at you he gets a piece of clothes thrown at his face. Grabbing it he drops it on the floor and look back up at you. You were still trying to hide your body using your hand. They didn’t do much for you since he could practically see everything.

"Yuta! Get out!" You tell him with a serious look on your face.

"I don’t quite feel like it, I also need to take a bath actually." He walks towards you until you’re forced to look up at him. "You don’t tell me what to do sweetheart. Your a smart girl, what does the Bible say?"

You bite you lip not wanting to answer but alas you spoke. "Wives, be submissive to your own husbands as unto the Lord"

A smile crept onto Yutas face as he kisses you on the lips. "So let’s take a nice warm bath together." His hands land on your hips as he pulls you closer to him.

"Wives be submissive not fiancé’s." You push him back by using your finger.

"Marriage, everything has to come right after marriage right?." He runs his hand through his hair. Taking a deep breath he exhales heavily trying to keep himself composed. One month and he could drop this act. One month and he’ll be living his life like he should.

"I’m going to make a call." He steps outside.

114 notes · View notes

alovesongtheywrote · 9 months ago

Note

nightmare academia puts me through the ringer EVERY TIME and i love it

♥ Summary: in a few chapters, it's gonna get worse!! for now tho... In this chapter of Nightmare Academia, case stuff ensues and you prepare for heartbreak. [Prof!Spencer Reid x GN-Prof!Reader]

♥ Warnings: cops. cops being terrible, cops exploiting the system, and cops shaming a woman for being a sex worker. also, violence, implied violence, and past violence.

♥ A/N: holy shit, this chapter is Very Long

♥ Word Count: 4885

Series Masterlist

♥♥♥

In the weeks that followed, Spencer brought the BAU to you. Of course, not everyone could make it. Kate Callahan was off raising her children. Penelope Garcia was the target of several hitmen (whereas Frank was probably the target of a single hitman. Massive difference. Trust me.) And Derek Morgan remained at Quantico with Garcia- so you really weren’t sure what to expect. The agents you had the strongest feelings about were out of commission. The last time you’d met his team it did not uh, how would you put it? End well? So you were- justifiably- a touch guarded.

That changed. Eventually.

It started with Adam.

At that point in the investigation, local law enforcement had only shown your friend cruelty, distrust, and skepticism. Honestly? You were about to start biting people about it. (Yeah, maybe it would have gotten you arrested, but at that point, you did not care. At the very least, biting would make you feel productive.) You were well and truly prepared for Spencer’s law enforcement team to behave in a similar manner to the local cops- and to be honest, you probably should have been. Most Feds would carry that same suspicion and distrust, and if they didn’t they were probably faking it to try and get a confession.

The BAU, however, are not most Feds. For several reasons. Either way, you were well and truly prepared to maul the next person who treated your friend like garbage, fed or otherwise. There was never a need.

The BAU showed Adam basic decency. They didn’t talk down to him or dismiss him as a demeaning stereotype- and yes, that was the barest of bare minimum, but it was still something. While they regarded him with mild suspicion for the first like, two minutes, it only took the team that same two minutes to come to the conclusion that Adam was innocent. After that, the BAU was just as dedicated to clearing Adam’s name as you were.

“Adam had an incredibly emotional response when we mentioned Frank,” Hotchner explained to the local detectives, “He’s genuinely devastated by what happened. He couldn’t have done this. Even if he did attack Frank, it wouldn’t have been a clinical hit.”

“Emotions tend to make things messy- we would have seen something much more personal, with more violence and more remorse,” Rossi added.

The detectives did not listen. The detectives did not care.

“I’d say a gunshot wound is pretty messy,” one laughed.

“Yeah,” another jumped in, “Try telling the vic’ that things aren’t messy.”

You bit your tongue to keep from screaming, but you didn’t stay entirely silent. If the detectives weren’t going to give a shit on their own, then you were going to make them.

“Have you actually?” you asked, crossing your arms, “Have you spoken to the victim?”

“Eh, someone else got around to it,” the first detective asked, looking at his partner with the special kind of uncertainty that came with getting called out.

“Did you read the report, then?”

“Well, I’m on the case, aren’t I?”

“Answer the question, detective.”

In the telling silence that followed, Rossi had to turn away to hide his (failed) attempt to suppress a grin. Hotchner looked proud, despite not knowing you very well. Spencer looked like he might grab you by the waist and kiss you until you were out of breath. He didn’t, though, for lots of reasons- his boss was there, he hadn’t asked you if you’d like to be kissed, there was more serious stuff to focus on, and like… you already looked fucking pissed.

The detectives just looked embarrassed.

“I- uh. I’ve skimmed it,” the first detective stuttered out.

“Yeah, cool, not good enough,” you nabbed the case file from a nearby desk and pressed it into the officer’s hands, “Consider reading the report. You’ll find that the victim disagrees with you.”

Both detectives stared at the file as if they were seeing it for the first time- as if they were seeing a file for the first time. You sighed.

“Detective, if I may ask, how much overtime have you put in on this case?” the man in front of you blanched at your question. You would’ve laughed if you weren’t so fucking angry, “Cool. I thought so.”

“Ough,” Rossi winced with faux sympathy, “Overtime? And you haven’t even read the case file?”

“Hey, we’ve been very busy these last few weeks!”

The second officer nodded, “Just last week, we had five break-ins in the downtown area.”

“Alright, I’ll accept that,” you turned to leave before doubling back, “But before I go, I need to ask- do you care about the wellbeing of the break-in vics the way you care about this case? Do you care about all victims so dearly? Or do you treasure their testimony the way you “treasure” the testimony in this case?”

“What? What are you saying, what do you-”

“I’m gonna go out on a limb and assume it’s the latter.”

“What? Okay, what the hell do you know about police work-!”

“They’re an expert criminologist,” Spencer said, seething slightly.

“Dr. Reid is right. I know a thing or two about crime- and if I’m just gonna put it this way. I’ve seen the data. I’ve heard testimony from victims and offenders. I know the local and nationwide statistics for unreported crimes. You’re concerned about the victim hearing that his case isn’t messy? Look me in the eye and tell me that you’ve never told a victim that their situation- their serious situation- was a waste of police time.”

The officers couldn’t look at your face, much less your eyes. You had done what you needed to do.

“You wanna solve crimes? You wanna be the hero? Then take a goddamned ethics class, read your fucking case files, care for your community, and do your fucking job.”

The detectives tried in vain to defend themselves. They were unsuccessful- especially in the face of the three FBI agents that immediately backed you up.

“Dr. (L/N) is right. The number of unreported crimes will astound you,” Rossi said, smirking like the little shit that we all know he is.

“This is especially prevalent with sexual assault cases, theft and scams, and other crimes where the victim may feel a sense of embarrassment- or crimes where the victim feels like their case won’t be taken seriously,” Spencer added in a very Spencer-like way.

“And everything you need to know about this crime is in the file. If you’d read it, you’d know that the victim is very insistent that your guy didn’t do it, and one could say that, oh, I don’t know, he’s a strong eyewitness. He is the victim and all,” Rossi continued, getting their asses.

They struggled to respond, “Well- I- We-”

“And even if you discount the eyewitness testimony, there’s still the matter of alibis and ballistics. Security cameras have placed Adam away from the community center at the time of the shooting. The ballistics aren’t a match to any weapon that Adam has ever come into contact with. Even if they were a match, he hasn’t handled a weapon since his release from prison as a condition of his parole. But if you had checked the file, you’d know that,” Hotch added, also smirking like a little shit, but with a slight edge to it- that edge, kids, is called “pissed off authority figure.”

“Hey, it-”

“It just sounds like poor police work to me,” Spencer had the biggest smirk of all- the smirk of a little shit who’s proud of his team and of his hot co-professor, “Had you actually done any of your research, you would realize that the suspect you have in custody is being held on police bias and circumstantial evidence. Any good lawyer can get this case thrown out, and then where will you be?”

His smirk turned to a full grin when you shot him a small smile of your own.

The detectives continued to sputter out responses. For once, the second one spoke, “Now, we may not be fancy FBI agents, but this precinct has a solid track record of convictions-”

“Were those convictions based on circumstance and bias?” Neither detective answered Spencer’s question. He continued, “Even if this precinct had a perfect track record, that wouldn’t make it invulnerable to mistakes- and even if it did, you would still have the responsibility of approaching each case like professionals to ensure the wellbeing of victims, suspects, and families.”

“I couldn’t have said it better myself,” you slid forward, putting a hand on Spencer’s arm, “Now if you’ll excuse us, we’re going to go speak with the victim. His name is Frank, by the way.”

And just like that, you pulled Dr. Spencer Reid away- and he did not resist in the slightest. In fact, he held the door open for you as you exited the precinct. Rossi was pretty sure he saw the kid get behind the wheel.

As the detectives scurried away with their tails between their legs, the older agent let out a long whistle.

“Well, I think it’s safe to say that our young Dr. Reid is officially smitten.”

“He was smitten the last time we were here,” Hotch said, pulling another copy of the case file from seemingly nowhere- one of his many unit chief powers.

“Yeah, yeah, but this time it’s bad. Garcia’s gonna be mad that she didn’t get to see it.”

Hotch nodded, solemnly.

“Y’know, I think the three of them combined could probably take down the whole FBI.”

“You’re right,” Hotch snapped the file closed with a tiny little proud-dad-type smile, “We’re awfully lucky that they’re focused on something else at the moment.”

Missy got your guard to drop further.

Initially, she was hesitant to have the Feds drop in on Frank’s case- you both were. You were used to local law enforcement treating her like shit. You didn’t stand for it- every time a cop or lawyer so much as dared to look at her wrong, you bared your teeth like a damn dog and threatened to bite where it would hurt. Y’know. Lawsuits. Missy wasn’t exactly a pushover, either. She was one of the strongest people you knew, and you were well aware that she could hold her own. If Missy wanted to be scary, she could be fucking terrifying.

Still, it was a little exhausting to fight all these battles against people in positions of authority who were so convinced that their series of events was correct, and anyone who went against it was nothing more than a lying ex-con. Having the BAU in your pockets certainly helped with that.

“I already told you what happened. I’ll tell you a thousand more times if I have to, but the story isn’t going to change,” Missy groaned, voice muffled as she buried her face in her hands.

“Okay, then. We’ll go over your testimony again. A few more times, if you don’t mind,” One of the local detectives smirked, ignoring the death glare you sent her way.

“Fine. Frank was walking me to the community center. I was taking a class on resume writing. It was cloudy, not raining, but cold. We came around the side of the building when a man in a leather jacket walked around the corner.”

“And what did this man do?”

“He- he shot Frank. He tried to kill my-” she took a shaky breath. You put a hand on her arm, aiming for gentle comfort and reassurance. Missy nodded, letting you know you’d hit your target.

“Did you see his face?” The officer continued.

“No. He was wearing one of those bike helmets that block off the person’s eyes- but I swear, it wasn’t Adam. This guy was too bulky. Adam’s made of wires, he needs to eat more.”

“You seem to have a lot of affection for Adam,” the detective leaned forward, “Now, we know you’ve claimed to be in a relationship with Frank- but could you describe your relationship with Adam for us?”

“I already said it! I took a couple classes with him! He’s a friend, that’s all.”

“Mhmm. That’s all. And in your previous line of work- the one that earned you a prison sentence of twelve months and a little over minimum wage- you had a lot of ‘friends,’ yes?”

“Excuse me?” your fingers bit into the table that separated you from the cop. You had half a mind to jump over the thing and throttle the smug detective sitting before you.

“What?” Missy growled, “You think just because I used to hook I fuck all my friends now? I’ve taken a few classes with Doc (L/N), I haven’t fucked them!”

You nodded in solemn agreement. The detective shrugged this off, ignoring everything that came out of Missy’s mouth. When she spoke again, her voice rang with the faux pity of someone who held themselves leagues above Missy.

“You know, I can see why you were looking at writing up a resume- your old line of work is so degrading. You know you’re never the same, afterwards. You can never wash off the shame. You’ll always be a little broken. A little-”

“Okay, that’s enough-” you stood up, slamming your hands down on the table.

“Hey, fuck you, man-” Missy leaned forward, “Don’t tell me what hooking did to me. You don’t know me. You don’t fucking know.”

“And now you’re lashing out. Poor thing-”

“Detective Foy. A word,” Tara Lewis, a newer BAU agent who you hadn’t really had the pleasure of meeting materialized in the doorway like a perfectly timed ghost, ready to right some wrongs and keep you from committing a murder. Her request for a word was perfectly intimidating, disclosing the not-so-secret secret that the request itself was not actually a request.

“I’m sorry, Agent, I’m in the middle of an interrogation-”

“It’s not an interrogation. You’re questioning a witness. Agent Jareau will handle things from here. Now, a word?”

You and Missy watched as the detective slunk out of the room with her tail between her legs. Moments later, JJ joined you, but she didn’t bother to start a line of questioning. Instead, the three of you watched in giddy silence as Tara Lewis destroyed Detective Foy where she stood. You couldn’t hear her through the glass, but you could vaguely read the words, “You are a police officer meant to serve and protect the people in your community, and uphold the law. You should educate yourself on the law, and on what it means to serve and protect.” On her lips.

You could’ve been off on that translation, but either way, it was sick as fuck. By the time Tara was finished, you and Missy were barely holding back your laughter. You probably would’ve held it in if JJ hadn’t turned around with a pleased grin on her face.

“Ok, well, I’ve known Agent Lewis for about three minutes, and already I adore her,” you cackled.

“Oh, she’s excellent,” Missy said, eyes sparkling with mirth.

“Well, we certainly like her,” Jennifer grinned, clearly proud of her teammate and happy to see that someone outside the BAU had taken notice.

A few moments later, Tara re-entered the room with a tired sigh on her lips. It didn’t take her long to realize that you were all staring right at her.

“What? What is it?”

“Oh, it’s nothing, we just think, as a group,” you looked around like you were the leader of the world’s weirdest (and maybe coolest?) group project, “That you are, objectively, excellent.”

“Yep. Not bad for a Fed.”

Again, you nodded in agreement, “I concur.”

Tara raised an eyebrow, slightly confused, “Thank you?”

Missy gave Tara a thumbs up. You followed her lead. Not really knowing what else to do in this situation, and figuring there was no harm in joining the madness, Tara returned the thumbs up.

“Well, like we said, we’ll take over the questioning from here,” JJ took a seat as she spoke. Tara joined her at the table.

“So, after Frank was shot, did you see where the attacker went?”

“No. I was kind of focused on my partner bleeding on the ground.”

“That’s fair- but try to think back. Did you see anything in your peripheral vision? Did you hear anything?”

Missy paused for a moment, and when she spoke again, she still sounded lost in thought, “I heard a bike. It makes sense with the helmet- I think it might’ve been a Yamaha?”

“Wait, you can tell which brand a bike is by the sound?” you asked, not disbelieving Missy, but distracted by the new knowledge that a person could do such a thing.

“If you let me think about it, I could probably give you the make and model.”

“Holy shit, really?” your eyes were wide. Your expression betrayed just how bewildered and impressed you were by vehicle knowledge. It might’ve been basic knowledge, but fuck it, the author can’t drive.

“Oh, absolutely- different bikes make different sounds. Cars are similar,” Tara nodded her agreement.

“You can tell cars apart by their sounds!?”

“Yeah? Can’t you?” Missy turned to face you, slightly bemused.

“I can tell that they’re old? Or like, electric, I guess?”

“Okay, when this is all over, I’m giving you a lesson.”

“I’d like to get in on that,” Tara added.

“Excellent!” Missy smiled, “Now everyone shut up and let me think.”

The way the BAU treated Frank dragged your guard down further. They were gentle, but not dehumanizing or infantilizing. They just treated him like a human person, and you found that neat, and more importantly, Frank found that neat.

Also, the BAU laughed at Frank’s anecdotes and jokes. I will be fully honest. That was more of a relief to you, especially because a decent chunk of those anecdotes and jokes were about you murdering the shit out of Spencer Reid using nothing but your words.

It really started on that very first day, when you and Spencer had gone to visit Frank. He could see it from his hospital bed- Spencer’s hand on your shoulder, the way Spencer was very clearly trying to comfort you from some unknown upset, and that was it.

Frank said, “Wow. Those two have sure come a long way from Doc telling him to go die in a ditch.”

And JJ, who had been questioning him, choked on her coffee and wheezed out a, “What?”

And that was pretty much it. Frank explained that Spencer had pissed you off, you’d hit him with the “die in a ditch” thing, and he looked so sad that you literally forgave him the next day. (He left out the bit about the stabbing, because stabbing doesn’t just kill people, it kills moods.)

From then on, Frank was the premium source of gossip on you and Spencer. Of course, Missy got in on it, too.

When they told Rossi about the time you’d called Reid a “shit-licking asshole fed,” the agent laughed so hard that he literally couldn’t speak for a solid minute. Was he a big fan of the anti-fed talk? Not particularly. But you had gone at it with such gusto, and with such anger, that he couldn’t help but cackle.

You knew none of this, but you knew that everyone involved seemed happier after the BAU took the case. That was good enough for you.

Your guard fell because of Spencer.

Wasn’t that always the way this was going to go?

While the BAU took care of your friends, Spencer took care of you. He made sure you got home safe. He kept you in the loop about everything case-relevant. He made sure you remembered to eat, which was kind of hypocritical of him, but oh well. He offered to drive you to and from the hospital, which was a fun kind of hell, because the man obeyed every traffic law ever made, but you got to bully him for it, so it all evened out in the end. He distracted you from the nightmare you were living through by offering fun facts. He made the nightmare better just by being him.

And he was the one to get Adam out.

He didn’t announce this victory to you. He just showed up one day, at the hospital, following behind Adam as the newly freed man burst into Frank’s room.

“Frank! Hey, are you good man? I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner, I would’ve been, but you know how it is with cops.”

“Shit, dude,” Frank beamed, “All things considered, I’m not too bad.”

“Holy shit, Adam?” you let out a hospital-appropriate screech.

“Oh my god,” Missy stood from her place at Frank’s bedside to give him a hug. For a moment, she held him so tightly that it looked like Adam legitimately couldn’t breathe.

The moment she saw Spencer lingering in the background, she switched from one wire-shaped man to the next. Spencer hugged her back politely, and then, in an instant, she was onto you.

“You sons of bitches did it! You actually did it!”

“Did we?” you asked Spencer, lowering your voice as Missy, Frank, and Adam enjoyed their reunion.

“We did,” Spencer confirmed, stepping closer to you until you were side to side, whispering to each other to avoid disturbing your friends, “We found bank statements proving that this was a targeted hit, unrelated to Adam. We’ve only been able to find the unsub’s side so far, but it won’t take us long to find whoever contracted him.”

“Shit- that’s both really good and mildly fucking terrifying.”

“I know,” Spencer answered almost too quickly, but he covered it up just as fast, “But it means that Adam is a free man. It’s almost over, (Y/N).”

You let out a small exhale, trying to maintain some semblance of calm, “Almost. Thank you, Spence. For all of this, for everything-”

“You don’t need to thank me. It wasn’t just the new evidence.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, there was this local criminology professor, maybe you’ve heard of them. They were incredibly insistent that law enforcement look deeper into the case, and because of them, the conviction vanished.”

A smile slipped onto your face as you turned to face him, “Was that a joke, Spence? You’re doing ha-ha funny jokes now?”

“I’m saying you did a good thing, here, (Y/N). Look,” he nodded towards the hospital bed, where your friends were talking, beaming, clinging to each other’s hands like they’d been shot, traumatized, and separated for months- which was an accurate summary, actually.

At your side, you let your hand slip into Spencer’s, weaving your fingers between his slender ones. You felt his grip tighten, his palm pressed tightly to yours. His hands were warm.

“We did a good thing,” you whispered.

You pulled him closer by the hand. You weren’t harsh or forceful, but Spencer still stumbled into you with what can only be described as a somewhat lovestruck grin on his face.

And then his phone rang.

You watched his face fall as he answered it. His fingers drifted away from yours. You could almost hear Hotchner’s voice on the other end. The call only lasted a few moments, but it changed everything. The air in the room grew heavy. The room fell silent.

“We found the unsub. My team is confronting him now, I-” he paused.

“They want you to go with them.”

“I have to.”

A shaky breath escaped your lungs, and you were kinda pissed at it- how dare that shaky breath reveal how you actually felt? How dare it break free from your body, alerting Spencer that your world had just spun out sideways for the millionth time that week.

You were gonna square up with that fucking breath.

But first, without saying another word, you nodded towards the door. Spencer nodded back. Like that, he was gone. You watched him go. You stared at the empty doorway after he’d left. The room remained silent.

I mean, it did until it didn’t- your friends couldn’t watch that and say nothing. I don’t think anybody could.

“Holy shit, you’re just gonna let him leave without saying goodbye?” Adam asked, looking between you and the door so quickly that you were almost surprised that his head didn’t fly off.

“He’s down bad,” Frank whispered, nodding in agreement, “Go get him.”

“I- he’s gonna be back in five minutes,” you tried to reason. It didn’t work.

“He could be back never! He might die!” Missy ran forward, gripping your shoulders.

“He’s got a bulletproof vest-”

“THERE IS SO MUCH THOSE THINGS DON’T COVER!!” Missy progressed to shaking you, slightly, “Go get him! Hurry, before it’s too late!”

“I really don’t know what you want me to say here.”

“Tell him you’re also down bad!” Frank exclaimed, no longer whispering.

“Down bad-? What the fuck does that even mean,” you said, your voice growing quieter and quieter as you left the room and headed down the hallway.

“... Y’know, they taught me what ‘down bad’ means.”

“Same.”

As your friends continued to discuss, you were already halfway down the hallway, walking as fast as you could given the hospital setting. Spencer was nowhere to be seen and you really didn’t have time to look. You really had one choice. The elevators.

You reached them just in time to watch that lanky noodle motherfucker step inside.

Giving up on decorum, you raced through the hospital corridor, yelling out apologies at every human person you passed- fortunately there weren’t too many, so it wasn’t like you caused a massive disturbance. Most people just thought you were having your rom-com finale moment. Maybe some part of you was trying to, but honestly, you weren’t really thinking about it. You were mostly just thinking, “Shit, shit, shit, I have to get in that elevator.”

And you did! You made it! You stumbled through the doors and came to a stop in the middle of that tiny box. Spencer reached out to steady you, his expression letting you in on his amused confusion. You smiled up at him, trying not to pant- and then you came to a realization.

You had no fucking clue what the hell you were going to say.

To be fair, what the fuck is a person supposed to say in that situation? “Heyyyy, my friends think I’m in love with you, so now I’m here, wanna talk about that before you head into a dangerous situation involving a hitman and many guns?”

Or perhaps, “Hey! You’re a good person even though I keep insisting you aren’t one, so I want you to know that you’re a good person before I send you off to get murdered!”

Or maybe, “You’re hot, I’m hot, wanna spend the next thirty seconds doing terrible things to this elevator that will get us forcibly removed from this hospital?”

Or even, “Hi, you just did a really nice thing for my friends, and I really appreciate it, and even though I don’t express it, I do care about you a lot, so maybe don’t die in the next few hours. For me. Please.”

In the end, you just settled for, “Hi.”

“Hi,” Spencer replied, not taking his hands from your shoulders even though you were more than steady, “Is everything okay?”

“Okay? Yeah, yeah, everything is, um. Everything’s fine. I just-” you froze again, because seriously, what the fuck could you say right then and there? What could you say that would let him know everything you wanted him to know?

“Are you sure?” he looked at you, held you with such delicate concern. You kind of wanted to partake in elevator ruining activities with Spencer until the two of you got kicked out of the hospital together.

“Yeah- yeah! Everything’s- I’m okay, it’s just,” you raised your hand, letting it hover between the two of you for a moment before you placed it over one of his, “Come out of this alive. Make sure everyone else does, too, but… come out of this okay, okay?”

Spencer hesitated. And then he wrapped his hand around yours and brought it to his lips, kissing your knuckles ever so briefly.

“I will. I promise.”

The elevator bell dinged. You’d reached the parking lot. Spencer let go of your hand with a different kind of hesitation.

“I’ll see you soon,” he offered, “Okay?”

“Okay.”

Spencer disappeared into the parking lot, dashing out of sight and into danger. You stood there, watching until the elevator doors slid shut and that infernal box pulled you back up again. The humming metal lights above and the clanking metal around you harmonized into the perfect soundscape for your empty mind.

Spencer was heading into danger, as he always did. You were returning to serve your community, as you always did. Spencer might not come back, and you would always remain, and you realized that when the case was over, he would go back to Quantico with the BAU, and you probably wouldn’t see him ever again.

And it broke your heart a little bit. Maybe more than a little bit. A little bit, perhaps.

You were a long way from, “Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, go die,” indeed.

♥ Tags: @icarusignite, @usuallyunlikelyfox, @maraudersforlife2005, @fictionalcomforts, @morgthemagpie, @iiheartbowie, @digitalhearts, @corpsebridenightamare, @ghostatrixx, @reiding-writing, @mywellspringoflife, @80katie, @ms-ks-world, @logicalhorror if you asked to be tagged and i forgot, pls let me know!! if you would like to be tagged and aren't, also let me know!!

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #x reader #nightmare academia

69 notes · View notes

mikuni14 · 10 months ago

Text

The Sign - Ep 7

First of all, as always, I will officially ignore all the cop stuff, the doctor discussing his patient's condition and giving his data without a court order, how a person with a mental disorder is treated, and the meme quotes from Paulo Coelho 🙃 (It's interesting that the Dr. Chewconcretemotherfucker treated both art Art and Tharn 🤔)

It never ceases to amaze me how much Phaya has NO control over his face and his behavior in Dr. ChUNT's presence lmao. And how all Tharn gives him is basic politeness, and how it must be apparent to anyone interested (including Dr. Changinghisnameisapublicservice) that Tharn, his heart, and his body belong to someone else. So what exactly is he trying to achieve? The only thing left for him is to actually end this relationship in a drastic way… "So don't worry, I will see him to his bed" I bet your ass that you will Phaya! 😆 I'm 100% sure the only thing your bird brain registered is "I" and "Tharn" and "bed" 👍

Somehow, in this episode, Tharn was able to de-escalate the situation between Phaya and Dr. Chanceyougettharniszeroyoucunt (with just one sentence), and he was also able to confess why he was the way he was (it took him one sentence as well). This is what I wanted in last episode, but what we only got now to fit the plot… *sigh*

I really liked the scene of Phaya trying to explain himself to Tharn: he's freaking out, not controlling his emotions, grabbing Tharn's hands.. and those broken sentences, grimaces on his face, visible nervousness and distress. And how Tharn is worried about what he sees (that deep crease between his eyebrows), trying to hide his worry, comforting him. Phaya's line: "Just tell me you forgive me and all these symptoms would probably go away" floored me. That's some old romance novel shit, it gets me every time! 😍

Phaya and Tharn's conversation in the archive was great, making Phaya's position on being in a relationship clear. Tharn's reaction to what Phaya says and when he asks what would he do? Really nice, as Tharn shows mostly with his eyes how much it all affects him..

I love Phaya and how persistent he is, how he doesn't give up, how he treats all obstacles to his happy relationship with Tharn as something that simply needs to be overcome and that's it 😄 That's why he follows him like a dog, uses every opportunity to be with him and creates his own opportunities. Like inviting Tharn to his nest house to disarm him with his family, food and cat and ultimately WIN him. Which of course works! Who would have guessed, Phaya actually has some game after all lmao

The scene at Phaya's house was so sweet! Tharn is so loving and gentle with the cat, immediately noticing Namami, unconsciously petting him just beacuse he is within his arm reach, which is what cat people do without thinking. I love how everyone just passed the cat between them lol

I liked Tharn having fun, being relaxed, the way Phaya shows him around his nest, the way he talks to him about himself. Tharn staring at the eagle painting…

Ohhh, and we have a perfect confession. As it should be, because Phaya is so serious when it comes to Tharn: it was long, honest, romantic without exaggeration or cringe. It's nice that Tharn didn't interrupt him and made an emotional confession himself. I'm not surprised that Tharn gave in because everything had been building up to this point. The way he saw Phaya freaking out, the way Phaya kept pushing, the whole "love" atmosphere of their current case certainly made him think too. Tharn himself tells Phaya not to press him, suggesting that he doesn't have the strength to resist, because as Tongthai even said earlier, you can't "fall out of love." You can't just shut down your feelings and desires. And Tharn FEELS it and oh god how much he wants it. And what I think convinced him was that Phaya didn't dismiss his worries with the traditional "don't worry" or "everything will be fine" or worse, "you're exaggerating, it's just a delusion." No, Phaya took his fears upon himself, saying that HE would try not to leave THARN, taking the burden of keeping Phaya alive off Tharn's shoulders. "I'll do whatever it takes so that you won't be sad or lose me", because his life is his responsibility, not Tharn's. What Phaya did was notice Tharn's worry, recognize it, take it upon himself, and let Tharn relax. That's why I'm not surprised that Tharn allowed himself a moment of happiness, to reach for what he wants. Perhaps it's a moment of weakness that he will regret later, but come on, Tharn is not made of steel! He's just a cute lil' guy and he's in love and horny! 😭 Oh, but this confession had its beautiful moments: "I really want to have you by my side in every day of my life" "This is the best I can do, please don't force me" "I promise not to leave you"

Love scene: YES. I love Phaya when, before they started, he takes a deep breath, as if he's finally at peace, because this is it, he FINALLY has everything he wants, everything is right with the world. And then he just go for it. I fucking love predatory, hungry Phaya. I love the pliant Tharn, how he's almost always with his back to Phaya in an act of sweet submission and ultimate trust. Phaya had moments as if he couldn't believe that they were together and when he realized that yes, this was really happening, he became even more passionate, as if he couldn't get enough of Tharn. It was incredibly hot. There was a lot of heavy breathing, pulling on skin, tight embraces, intense caresses, hungry looks. And am I seeing things or there was a scene of Tharn nodding his consent and implication that Phaya was preparing him? 👀 Anyway, the scene was an intoxicating mix of Phaya and Tharn's fantasies: it was pretty, pink, emotional and hot.

When I finally see them together, I'm as happy as Phaya with a naked, tattooed, wet Tharn in the shower 😄💖🥳 everything is right with the world.

#the sign the series #bl drama #thai bl

93 notes · View notes

klanceogies · 4 months ago

Text

klance existing in a space war is soooo good cause they're the most selfless motherfuckers on this entire fucking universe ever. they would die for who they love in a heartbeat it's not even funny.

like imagine there is a life or death situation, one of them has to stay behind to buy the other time to escape and give them a chance of survival. they would both turn to each other and would tell the other that they're the one staying. they argue and it's desperate and messy and they've never been more terrified in their lives, but mostly for the other. in marriage they say until death do us part but they've been this devoted much much earlier. after fighting gor years in an ingergalactic war, they've accepted that they might die at any moment, during any mission, in any planet. but trying to accept the other dying is just soul crushing. because he's too good to die and if there is anyone who deserves to live is him. and they both have this train of thought until then. until they're face to face with the unevitable.

(more under cut this cause it was just a ramble and then i ended up kinda going insane????)

they're both determined to stay. when lance realizes that keith won't budge, and he is probably the most stubborn person in the universe, he says "fine." keith is relieved for a split second, but lance isn't done, "but i'm staying with you." and he has this look on his face. it's the same look he gets when they're entering on the battlefield for a serious mission. it's the same look he gets when tasked with shooting a tricky target. it's pure determination.

keith's gaze snaps back to lance's face, brows furrowed. "what? no! you're not- just one of us can be saved. voltron needs five people. you have to go, lance. you have to live."

""voltron needs five people"" lance scoffs. "this isn't a math problem, keith! you, out of everyone in this universe should know this. and if this is all about saving the universe or whatever then you are the one who should go! you're objectively the best pilot, the best soldier, the best leader to put an end to all of this. voltron needs you. the universe needs you."

"i'm not-"

"but i know you. i know you're going to dismiss everything i just said because you're stupidly humble when you're not trying one-up me. and i know that you're not changing your mind no matter what i say. so if you already decided to be so goddamn stupid and stubborn then i'm not leaving you behind either! i just can't leave you behind." then, quieter, "i don't think i could live with myself if i did."

keith shakes his head. he scoffs and blinks back tears, with a disbelieving, desperate smile on his face. he thinks he is losing his mind. "lance, this isn't logical. you-"

"since when do you even try being logical before doing something?!"

keith grits his teeth together. this isn't how this is supposed to end. how they're supposed to end. "since there was the chance of you surviving this to go back home alive and well and see your family and you're not taking it!"

lance inhales sharply. speechless, the first tear falls.

keith sighs, "i don't have anyone to go back to, lance. you do. you can go and move on and live and be happy."

"move on," lance repeats flatly. it's his turn to look at keith with confusion, as if he had grown a second head. "after leaving you behind," he asks, more like a statement.

"one day!" keith holds lance's shoulder, in a motion as to shake him awake. he needs lance to believe this. "one day so much time will have passed that i'm just gonna be a funny memory of some guy who was old annoying rival-teammate."

lance keeps looking at him. he shakes his head, almost imperceptibly. his cheeks are painted with tears. keith seizes his opportunity.

"please," his voice cracks. "please lance, if you can't do it for yourself do it for your family."

keith is suddenly plunged into the frozen waters of guilt with the thought that he was the one to cause the pain that is painted on lance's face.

"you're an idiot to think i could ever move on from this."

*from you* goes unsaid. it is spoken through lance's warm lips on his.

keith doesn't close his eyes; it's over before he can even register it. the slight taste of blood and salty tears and the feel of bitten but soft lips. lance's hand cradles his face as his eyes scan over his face, as if to keep it in memory. keith is left stunned, speechless.

"goodbye, keith," lance mutters.

keith looks at him. really looks at him. he opens his mouth, with so much to say and nothing at all. he hopes his eyes show how much he means, how much he feels. his only reassurance is lance's last small smile. it's fond and bittersweet.

suddenly, laser shots can be heard in the distance, and lance's hand falls from his cheek. keith snaps out of his trance as lance walks away hurriedly. he's wiping his face with the back of one hand, readjusting the grip on his bayard with the other. keith still looks at the empty hallway long after lance has turned the corner.

once again, keith is alone, with the shots getting louder and louder with every tick. lance left, and keith is going to die, and keith didn't tell him he loves him. he doesn't know if saying it would change something. if he would stay. maybe out of pity. maybe out of fear that keith is only doing this because he is blinded by love or something stupid. maybe out of love too.

for the first time since they've gotten into this ridiculous situation, keith allows himself to cry. it's silent, and it isn't messy, however. there still is one last mission to complete. perhaps, he thinks, the most important mission of his life.

he squeezes his eyes together. then, he picks up his bayard and leaves the hiding spot. with a deep breath, he rises his shield and channels all the anger that built up inside of him. he hates the galra, even if he is one of them himself. he hates the galaxy garrisson officials and all the people who underestimated him. he hates voltron for choosing his friends and taking them away from their families. he hates this stupid war for taking everything from so many. he hates the stupid empire for making lance choose.

he starts walking to the opposite side of the corridor and into the darkness.

that's it i feel like i just passed out and when i woke up i had written this monstrosity even though i have never written like ever. this was supposed to be just a ramble so yeah it's messy but idc i just had to share my demons.

i also wrote this:

"and this is when lance is selfish. he is so goddamn selfish because he turns around." so yeah. lance goes back. and they survive this unlikely situation and get together and kiss yes because in my mind klance can never have a sad ending ever in the world so

#klance #erm idk what posessed me #this is saur dramatic like my bad #my kl brainrots

34 notes · View notes

razorblade180 · 1 year ago

Text

Names

Furina:Aether, we need to have a very important conversation. Promise you’ll take this seriously.

Aether:….I know we’re both over 500 but I’m not in the mindset of a family besides finding my sister.

Furina:Not the conversation I wanted in the slightest! I just gained my freedom in case you forgot. I just wanted to discuss cute little names for one another.

Aether:*scrunches face*

Furina:What!? Why that face!?

Aether:Never really was a fun of that sort of thing.

Furina:Said the man who accepts titles like they’re going on sale.

Aether:You know…

Furina:I’m not calling you “Executioner”

Aether:Then what’s the point of any of this!? It’s so cool.

Furina:I told you to be serious!

Aether:May I ask what brought this on?

Furina:*red* I just…think they’re neat. It’s only natural that people who are close to one another to give names that show the affection.

Aether:….

Furina:Is this you silently judging me?

Aether:No I’m just fighting tooth decay. Your answer was unexpectedly sweet. Still, I’m not really good at these sort of things.

Furina:That’s because you’re an overthinking. Surely you’ve known me long enough to have something to describe my magnificence.

Aether:Furina if I’m being honest, if I had to compare you to anything it would either be those floppy ear bunnies that get angry sometimes, or an emotional kitten.

Furina:Please never say that second one again.

Aether:What’s wrong with kit- okay I see. Told you I suck at this! Why don’t you just go force and tell me what you have in mind.

Furina:…

Aether:You haven’t the slightest idea.

Furina:I thought maybe we could workshop or something!? Cut me some slack. I typically shorten names but yours feels weird. Plus that would be boring.

Aether:We’ll what do you typically want to call me?

Furina: What, besides “mine?”

Aether:….

Aether:You’re going to make kitten stick if you keep talking like that.

Furina:*red* Nooooo! Focus Aether! We don’t have to commit to anything right now. Just spitball.

Aether:Despite the fact you constantly smell like a pastry mixed with rose water, I’m not about to call you a long winded dessert or something as dull as cupcake.

Furina:First of all, my shampoo is daisies and not rose water. Second, I appreciate you noticed I smell nice. Third, cupcake is wonderful but taken by Clorinde.

Aether:Who calls her cupcake?

Furina:I’ve…said to much. Dismiss that from your memory.

Aether:…Tweetie. I like your singing. You’re like a free songbird.

Furina:That’s not a bad attempt.

Aether:It’s funny how nicely you said that while obviously rejecting that.

Furina:*smiles* I am a woman of many talents. We should probably call it here. No need to force these things. I only wanted to bring attention to it. Rest assured that I will put the utmost care in whatever my heart chooses.

Aether:Seriously, it could just be my name.

Furina:Awww, is someone embarrassed about this sorta thing? You are surprisingly introverted despite all of your achievements.

Aether:You’re one to talk.

Furina:Hehe, true enough. *hugs him* I suppose “Aether” is as glorious as any other name. I’ll admit that I personally enjoy how it sounds.

Aether:*flustered* I swear, where do you get your energy?

[Sometime later]

Navia:Have anything planned after this?

Furina:Not really. I should probably run through some lines after this tea party but I don’t actually feel up to it. Maybe a nap or-

Aether:*walks by*

Navia:Oh! Hi Aether!

Aether:*turns head* Hmm? Oh hi Navia. *looks at Furina*…..

Furina:??? What’s with the silent gaze? Is there something on my face?

Aether:*red* N-No. I was surprised to see you is all, Sugar Cube.

If a ghost were to sneeze right now, everyone would hear it. Navia’s eyes widened as she let out the smallest of gasps and saw Furina’s mind come to a screeching halt while her face became every color of red. The actress slowly put down her tea, stood up, and dragged Aether by the hand around the corner.

Furina:I’ll be right back Navia.

Navia:(Where is Clorinde and Charlotte when I need them!? I have to talk about this with someone!)

Aether:W-Was that bad?

Furina:*grabs scarf* No no no. It was simple, realistic even. Not to mention cute. However… you were absolutely right about the embarrassment. I don’t think my soul can handle that! Just call me Furina.

Aether:I wanted to do that from the start! I said that in front of people!

Furina:I’m sorry!! I thought I was strong about this but I was horribly wrong!!!!

#genshin impact #gi aether #gi furina #aerina #furina x aether #she tells him to say it in private

84 notes · View notes

anarchy-n-glitter · 7 months ago

Text

Bring the Pain

Summary: Daphne Napier used to date Charles Lee Ray when she lived in Chicago... or at least he told her they were dating. He taught her everything she knew, helped her become the person she is today, and she truly believed he loved her. Then he died. Alexis Quinn lives in Hackensack, New Jersey with her girlfriend Tess Monroe. (Chucky/Charles Lee Ray x OC/reader) Words: 4,480

(CHAPTER 2 HERE)

A/N: I have finally finished chapter 1 of Daphne's fic thank u chucky season 3 <3333

Ｃｈａｐｔｅｒ１

She was cleaning their apartment when she found it.

Alexis had a nice apartment. It was larger than most Jersey apartments, with nice hardwood floors and four bedrooms. It was on a higher floor of a very nice building, in an even nicer part of town that made her question why Alexis hung around people like her and her friends. The furniture inside was older and made of dark oak wood, with deep gem colors and a velvety texture, and in the center of the living room was a large rug made of white fur - she still wasn’t sure if it was real or not. The kitchen had marble counters and stainless steel appliances.

When she had been invited over for the first time a couple of months after meeting Alexis she tried not to show her shock and awe. After all, she never would have guessed Alexis was rich just by looking at her. The strawberry blonde woman often dressed like one of the local goths: all black with fishnets and touches of her favorite color, which was pink, and darker makeup. Alexis described herself as punk, though, and some outfits of hers fit that description, but the moment she saw where she lived she dismissed the idea of Alexis being anything other than a young woman rebelling against her rich parents.

That night, Alexis confessed that she had a crush on her, smiling bashfully yet hardly hiding that seductive look in her emerald eyes under the low light of her fireplace.

“I like you.” She said so casually as everyone around them chattered amongst themselves. There were probably twenty other people there that night, Alexis called it a small house party, and she secretly wished she went there alone. The music was blaring. Her dark eyes widened with shock as she leaned forward.

“What?” She choked into her red cup.

“I said I like you, Tess.” All the brunette could do was blink in shock. The admittedly intimidating woman smiled widely and dropped her head as she laughed, her strawberry bangs covering her eyes.

“You don’t do this often do you?” She chuckled. Tess’s face grew redder than a tomato as she stumbled over her words, trying to regain her composure and save her dignity. “Tess.” Alexis’s green eyes shone with amusement, like a cat that was playing with a mouse, but her tone was serious.

“Yeah?”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

Her tactic seemed to work though, it got her into bed, and it was the start of their relationship.

Three years passed and now Alexis was out every night doing god-knows-what and she was stuck at home cleaning. Her mother would laugh at her, remarking that “she always knew Alexis was the man in the relationship” in her usual spiteful tone before lecturing Tess on how she was right and she needed a real man. Her mother never was too supportive of her or her relationships. Alexis was not the first woman she loved, and - while she was sure they’d be together forever - if it didn’t work out Alexis wouldn’t be the last either. Her mother never seemed to understand that.

Her mother’s opinions were incredibly outdated for the year 2021.

But part of her was growing resentful of her mother’s words, not just because she was not-so-vaguely homophobic, but because she was onto something. Tess stayed home all day and all night, not having to work because Alexis had it all covered somehow, and she cooked and cleaned and took care of everything around the apartment - Alexis’s apartment - while her girlfriend was out all day, sometimes all night too. She never signed up to be a housewife, and while staying home all day was nice at first, she had things she wanted to do and achieve eventually. Not to mention the fact that their relationship was supposed to be built on equality.

Make sure you get under the couches, you always forget under the couches. Her mother’s voice echoed in her head even when she didn’t want it there. Even though she hated to admit it, the disembodied voice of her mom was right, she did almost forget to clean under the couches. She started with the deep magenta one against the wall closest to the entrance, moving it onto the white rug before pausing.

There were magazines and newspapers underneath.

Each one was clearly old, with the edges of their pages bent and creased and frayed. They looked well read, with creases on the spine of each magazine. The images were faded, but she recognized the face on each one. Emerald eyes stared back at her, and the usual mess of curly hair was pulled into two low ponytails, though it was a much darker auburn color than the rosy blonde she usually sported. On her lips was a dark red lipstick, and around her neck was the same choker with the magenta gem in the center…

The title of each magazine was relatively the same, something along the lines of “I secretly dated a serial killer.” There were a few mentions of a man, Charles Lee Ray, a familiar name to anyone who lived in Jersey or Chicago. She looked on with horror but also skepticism. They all looked like tabloid trash, and she was sure her girlfriend couldn’t have been in a magazine from over 30 years ago. She became more concerned about why her girlfriend would photoshop herself into a magazine claiming to be a dead serial killer’s mistress…. but the magazines felt old… too old to be faked.

She pushed a strand of thin, brown hair back behind her ear as her hand shook.

She placed the magazines to the side and looked at the newspaper. In big, bold letters it read:

“ACCOMPLICE TO LAKESHORE STRANGLER ACQUITTED”

with a picture of the same woman walking down the steps to a courthouse. On either side of her were her lawyers and a security guard, and she was dressed like Marissa Tomei in My Cousin Vinny, with a sleek black dress and a baggy leather jacket. She was hiding her face from the people who waited outside, flanking either side of the barricaded steps, flashing cameras and hurling words at her from the looks of it. She seemed to be the same age as Alexis.

The article inside mentioned a slew of things she’d never read up on before. She was familiar with Charles Lee Ray, and the events in 1988, but she’d never heard of Daphne Napier. She supposed if she was acquitted most people didn’t find it interesting enough to talk about her in podcasts or discussions online, and she wasn’t really into true crime so she wouldn’t have known either way, but something about this new story kept her wanting to read more. The article said she claimed she had been in a relationship with his other accomplice, Eddie Caputo when she was only seventeen, and when she realized what exactly her boyfriend was doing she tried to get away. She then claimed the two killers held her hostage for four years, and while she said she never did any of the killing herself, she admitted to being forced to help them get away and clean up their messes.

The images made her sick to her stomach. They were uncannily similar to Alexis in every way, and for some strange reason, deep down she feared the woman she’d come to love was not who she claimed to be. She couldn’t bear to look inside the magazines, wondering just what Daphne might have said to those publishers as opposed to a judge and jury. She supposed it wasn’t good.

The sound of keys jingling in the hallway and the door unlocking startled her.

“Tess? You up? I’m home!” Alexis’s (or could she even call her that anymore?) thick brooklyn accent sounded from the hallway. Tess froze, still holding the newspaper in her hands as large, black boots with pink laces came into view. Her gaze traveled up the length of her fishnet-clad legs and the rest of her body, where she met that same emerald stare from the cover of the magazine. Tess’s eyes filled with tears as Alexis tilted her head like a curious dog.

“What’cha got there?” She asked with no hint of malice or even nervousness. Tess looked down slowly at the paper, then back at her girlfriend. She had no idea why she felt so frightened. She opened her mouth to speak and found it hard to put the words together. At worst, her girlfriend is somehow much older than she looks and claims to be, with a different name and a past filled with serial killers. At best she’s just a true crime nut who has the hots for Charles Lee Ray. She honestly hoped it was the second option, that was much easier to deal with.

Her mouth was dry. “I don’t know what this is” was all she could muster. Alexis took another step forward, looking over Tess’s shoulder with that same look of innocent curiosity. She furrowed her brow.

“That’s me.” She stated simply, as if the very idea that a picture of a woman 30 years ago was actually her wasn’t earth shattering for Tess. The brunette let out a small whine.

“What?” Emerald eyes met her brown ones. Alexis smiled again.

“That’s me. Daphne Napier is me.” She doubled down in a completely serious tone, pointing to the newspaper and magazines. She must have lost it, Tess thought, or maybe I have if I’m starting to believe her.

“Daphne Napier was twenty one when this article was published. You’re almost twenty five.” But you haven’t aged a day since we met. Alexis, or Daphne, smiled to herself, the look of innocence gone. Her smile seemed malicious and bitter. She put her hands on her hips and began to pace the foyer.

“You weren’t supposed to see that.” The way the cherry blonde laughed sent shivers down Tess’s spine. “Look, Tess, there’s a lot that you don’t know about me, there’s a lot I haven’t told you.” She stopped and gestured between the two of them.

“I thought we had something special.” She sounded heartbroken. Tess stood, grabbing Alexis’s (Daphne’s) hands in hers.

“We do!” Tess exclaimed, bringing Alexis’s (Daphne’s) cold fingers to her lips. “We do.” She reassured her, whispering against her flesh. “I just don’t understand.” There was a change in her girlfriend’s eyes, something more sinister replacing the sorrow.

“I really liked you too, I was hoping we could keep doing this for a few more years.” She was laughing but hardly smiling. There was something deep down that told Tess to run - to get out of there before she got hurt. But Alexis would never hurt her… right?

This wasn’t Alexis though, and Tess could never be sure Alexis ever existed. This was Daphne Napier, a woman who was most likely a monster in her own right.

“We can.” She ignored the warning signs, that feeling deep inside, to appease the woman she’d come to love. She hoped there was some truth to the Alexis persona, and she hoped there was something to save here. “I’ll forget I saw it, I promise. Your name is Alexis Quinn.” Tess muttered. She wasn’t sure if she was saying to appease the erratic woman in front of her or if she was trying to convince herself.

Tess could feel her heartbeat in her throat as her stomach turned uneasily. She couldn’t hold Alexis’s emerald gaze any longer. Who are you, Alexis? She thought to herself uneasily. Who am I? What are we doing here?

Her name is Alexis Quinn. Her name is Alexis Quinn. Her name is…

“I’m sorry.” Tess could barely react before something was smashed against her head, and she fell to the floor. Daphne stood over her, watching silently to make sure her (soon to be ex) girlfriend was truly knocked out. She glanced at the old, iron doorstep in her hand and sighed as she dropped it. It collided with the wood floor with a loud THUD!

Blood began to pour from the large gash in the back of the brunette’s head, like the crimson halo of a fallen angel. Daphne sneered at the girl, Fallen’s right, don’t know about any angel though. She knelt down and felt at Tess’s pale-growing-paler-by-the-minute neck, cold fingers searching for a pulse. Weakly, the brunette reached out for her wrist, for comfort from the person she once loved so dearly. Daphne pulled her hand back quickly.

“I hate it when they don’t see it’s over.” She huffed, sadistically mimicking the cadence of a valley girl in a high school drama. “The best exes know when it’s time to move on.” She whispered, her voice shifting to something more soothing as she tauntingly ran her fingers through Tess’s thin strands. Her other hand reached for the doorstep beside her.

“Take a few notes from the other guys and drop dead already.” The iron struck the side of her head quickly and without mercy - the cracking sound her skull made would be sickening to anyone less than a pro, but luckily Daphne was just that.

“Alright, Damballa, this one’s a little early so you gotta work with me, here.” She muttered as she gripped the pink gem on her choker. She swore it glowed ever so softly whenever she did this, though she could never prove it. With one hand raised to the sky, she spoke with conviction.

“Ade due Damballa…”

♛♛♛♛♛♛♛♛

Chicago, Illinois

1988

It was true. Daphne felt sick to her stomach.

Her emerald eyes were locked on the man in front of her; disheveled with stubble along his chin, tousled dark hair, and a brown coat wrapped around his wiry form. The black fingerless gloves on his hands almost completed the look. He looked like a bum.

“You left him there?” Her voice was weak and shaking, hiding the anger and sorrow that lurked beneath her porcelain skin. Dark eyes looked her up and down, which only served to fuel the fire that raged in her gut. She wanted to drive the screwdriver that laid on the dirty, broken counter into his eye. The hideout was a mess, and she assumed it was because neither her nor Tiffany had been around in some time. From what she heard, Chuck seemed to have found someone new.

She would be lying if she said it didn’t hurt.

“I haven’t seen you in god-knows-how-long and this is the first thing you wanna talk about? Anyway, what’s that around your neck? You get into gaudy jewelry lately?” Was all Eddie could muster. Daphne glared at him as she clutched the pink gem on the golden necklace she had bought from some lady. The gem was valuable, the necklace itself… not so much. She would have to make something more suited to her style.

Everything else was the truth, though, he hadn’t seen Daphne since she stopped seeing Chucky. Part of him thought she was dead - thought Tiffany had gotten to her or maybe Charles got bored before…

Either way, Daphne stood before him, dark lines of mascara running down her tear soaked cheeks with smeared lipstick upon her perfect, plump lips. Her dark apparel seemed appropriate - he guessed she saw the news, though she always dressed like that. It was part of the reason Tiff stopped dressing like an uptown brat. Daph’s auburn hair was as fiery as the day she left. Winter fire…

Fire was all she was as she seethed in place, clenching her fists. Large, black boots stomped on the ground, taking Eddie out of his thoughts.

“No. No, you are not changing the subject. You left him there!” She screeched. She was so angry she could tear him apart with her bare hands. She fought the urge to wrap perfectly manicured fingers around his thin neck. “You have - no, had - one job! One fucking job, Eddie!”

“The cops were closing in on us, Daph.” He began, taking that same patronizing tone he used to use when they argued when they were dating. It only made her angrier. Made her heart ache more.

“Oh wait, I forgot, you only care about him, right?” That was the last straw. Her fist pounded on his chest.

“He was our friend you fucking asshole!”

Eddie grabbed her wrists, pulling her even closer. Daphne felt like she could collapse then and there. Her legs felt like jelly, her head heavy and hazy as she tried to focus through the barrage of tears that flooded her eyes. She had never felt so many emotions at once before… it was terrible and smothering. “He was a bit more than a friend to you, though. Isn’t that right, Daph?” She pushed herself away from him and stumbled backwards before collapsing to the ground, heaving.

All she could do was wail, feeling the rawness in her throat and the heaviness in her chest. Every move she made reminded her she was still here, still breathing, still alive.

She was alive, unlike Chucky, and that was what hurt the most. She thought the worst thing he did to her was leave her… she had a whole other thing coming.

“Shut the fuck up.” She muttered through the tears, wiping lamely at her cheeks.

“Tiff put an end to that one, didn’t she?” She bit her tongue at that one, glaring up at the cowardly man in front of her through blazing bangs.

“I didn’t know about that! He insisted they weren’t together anymore, he said she was crazy!”

“He was only half lying, then. What a good guy!” Eddie spouted sarcastically. Daphne rolled her eyes.

“What we had doesn’t erase the fact that I still care…” She trailed off, biting back the tightness in her throat and tears that swelled in her eyes as she realized her mistake. “Cared about him.” She choked.

“I cared about you, Daph.” Eddie crouched down beside her. Daphne scoffed and crossed her arms, scooting away from him ever so slightly as she fought the urge to laugh bitterly in his face. “No, really, I did. I mean, Charles had a point, dating you when I did was bad news but he was only saying that cause he wanted you for himself. I thought you were beautiful, intelligent and so wise beyond your years.”

“C’mon, Eddie, we both know that’s bullshit.” She sniffled, rubbing her slick nose with the sleeve of her magenta cardigan. He knew she was referring to his accusation.

“Is it? He tells me to dump you, and I send you away cause of it. You turn nineteen, start coming back around, and suddenly he’s all over you.” He would be lying if he said he wasn’t still a little bitter.

“I was almost twenty.” Daphne exclaimed with conviction, ever the naive teen he met all those years ago. He rolled his eyes at her. “I didn’t just turn nineteen when I got together with Chuck. Anyway, it’s not like you’re much better.” She got to her feet, towering over the gaunt man in her platform boots.

“Don’t try to take the moral high ground when you dated a goddamn seventeen year old!” She continued, rubbing in the little fact Eddie conveniently left out of his manipulation. Daphne was sixteen when she met Eddie, and she was indeed seventeen when they decided to make things official.

She thought she was so cool back then. Now she knows what happened.

“Jesus…” Eddie muttered as he stood.

“At least Chuck had the decency to know that was fucked up! He respected me.” Daphne crossed her arms and looked away, her eyes focusing on the screwdriver again, if only for a moment. She thought of Chucky in that moment - thought of the way his sky colored eyes seemed to soften at the sight of her, the way he would smile at her and guide her hand while he taught her to slit someone’s throat, the way he corrupted her in the sweetest and most sinful ways and the way he whispered loving words in her ear, holding her closer and closer until…

“He loved me.” She stated in a voice no louder than a whisper, and in her heart she knew it was true.

“You’re fucking delusional.” Eddie spat, throwing his hands up in frustration as he pushed past her. “You sound like Tiff.”

That was the last straw.

Daphne was quick to grab the screwdriver from the counter and plunge it into Eddie’s open palm, ripping through the cheap cotton blend and tearing through his flesh. He pulled away from her grip, her hand still firmly wrapped around the tool as she withdrew it, blood dripping off the rusted metal and onto the dusty floors. Eddie cradled the wounded hand close to his chest, his dark eyes wide and focused on her as he monitored her closely, making sure she wouldn’t drive the rusty tool into his neck next.

“Don’t you ever compare me to her! I’m my own person, Eddie!” Daphne screamed before turning around. She felt the anger bubbling in her chest again, the red that blinded her vision. She could kill him right then and there, and she felt she would be justified.

After all, he did kill her best friend.

(Her best friend who hadn’t spoken to her in a year. Her best friend who basically pumped and dumped the moment things got too complicated for him, regardless of how she felt.)

“I’m not some bumbling, insecure psycho idiot who tries to be someone else when my man loses interest! I at least know when to take the hint and walk away!” Spoken like someone who wasn’t completely and utterly insecure - no, not at all, she thought to herself. Daphne’s feelings toward Tiffany were complicated. She did feel bad about what she inadvertently did to her, yet part of her was still angry at the woman. After all, had she not threatened to kill Daphne, her and Chucky would still be together.

Would being the other woman be enough for her, though? Would she truly be happy with the small stops and little visits that resulted in sex and not much else?

She paced around the kitchen like a caged tiger - unpredictable and dangerous, as usual. Eddie missed when Daph wasn’t so comfortable with killing and maiming.

In many ways Chucky changed her for the worse.

A sudden calmness came over her eyes, practically glazing them over as a smirk made its way to her smudged lips. She dropped the screwdriver.

“Hope you got your tetanus shot, babe, you’re probably gonna need it.” She began as she turned on her heel, leaving Eddie trembling in the corner to watch her slink out the front door.

Along the way, Daphne seemed to miss a little boy walking down the street alone, hugging his Good Guy doll close to his chest.

♛♛♛♛♛♛♛♛

Hackensack, New Jersey

2023

Daphne was tired. Things were starting to get a bit desperate now that it had been two whole years since she killed Tess.

A soul can only last as long as the amount of time she spends sweetening them up. Unfortunately for her, she was beginning to run out of time with no one new lined up to take Tess’s place. Sure, a one night stand here and there could give her a few more days, but the amount of people she would have to sleep with in order to stay young for another year while she lines up the next poor sucker would be too damn many.

The amulet of eternal life was complicated like that - it needed a soul to sustain a soul.

God, it made her sound like a vampire.

Spiritual vampire, she used to muse cheerfully to herself as she would consider taking another life for her own. The souls would keep her young forever, or at least that’s what she thought. It took only a few more wrinkles near her eyes for her to figure out she needed a connection with the souls the amulet collected.

Now she was a fucking black widow.

She was grateful for a few of her exes, though, like the older rich man Boris. He’s the reason she didn’t have to work anymore, and the reason she was living in the apartment she was. Once she got rid of his brats, and sweet talked him into putting her into the will, she killed him. Best three years of her life, though. The gowns and gifts were to die for!

But Tess was different.

Daphne hadn’t felt so alive in a long time. In a lot of ways, Tess seemed to fill the hole Chucky had left over thirty years prior. She was wonderful and kept her on her toes, even if it wasn’t in the usual exciting way Chucky used to. She managed to make Daphne laugh, made her appreciate life again…

And she supposed that was why she struggled to find a new victim. No one was Tess… or Chucky for that matter.

Her apartment was dark and empty, with no one around to liven the place up. Daphne was out all day and night searching for someone… someone to love, someone to hold, someone to consume into her own being when the time was right.

God I hate dating! She thought frustratedly as she slid down the surface of her front door.

Then, in the darkness, she heard something drop. It sounded like one of her books, but she couldn’t be sure. She pressed her lips into a thin line and straightened up, feeling irritation and anger in her core. Oh, whoever decided to try and rob me tonight is in for a bad fucking time. She thought bitterly. To her right was the iron doorstep, the same one she used to kill Tess, and though its metal handle burned her skin with the thought of what she did with it, she still crouched down to collect it.

Its weight reminded her of her sins, but it excited her all the same.

Daphne cautiously moved into the living room, where the blaze of a small fire illuminated the area and she saw the silhouette of what looked like a child sitting in her armchair. Confused as to how she missed the light from the front door and why a child would even be in her apartment, she wavered in her stance, lowering the iron.

The tableside lamp clicked on, and before her sat an aging Good Guy doll.

Red hair tousled and ragged, with smile lines around his thin lips and bags under sky blue eyes that used to stare at her lovingly, Daphne knew exactly who this was.

“Hiya doll.” Chucky greeted in his usual raspy, sarcastic tone. “It’s been a while.”

#chucky x oc #chucky x reader #chucky spoilers #charles lee ray #charles lee ray x reader #charles lee ray x oc #chucky fanfiction #brad dourif

23 notes · View notes