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aernx · 2 years ago

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꒰ 💭 ꒱ OH, NIKI YOU’RE SO FINE! ˖ ⌨︎ ⁩◞❪니키❫

— 25 ! sunoo has a plan…

this is the continuation of last chp!

Once again, Riki neared the entrance of the archery field. Looking at the gates with a certain gaze, the boy can’t help but feel some sort of familiarity.

Looking through the gates in search of his friend (again) Niki can’t help but remember the unfamiliar guy from the other day as a glimpse of that confusing interaction replayed in his mind.

Shrugging those thoughts away, Riki reverted his focus to his mission: find Sunoo and leave immediately. No more unnecessary detours.

you: Sunoo where r u?

☀️oo: i’m inside. js go in

As his feet venture towards the wide field, he was surprised to see fewer archers than usual. Not doing anything particular with that information, he continues to search for Sunoo.

He walked across the field, crossing fingers praying that he won’t see you and that Lino guy again. Okay maybe he hoped he saw you a little bit…just not with that Lino dude. But oh was fate in his side these days.

“Riki! Is that you!?” His head snapped in the mention of his name. And there you were, with your bow strapped on your back, you approached him with a smile.

Gosh did he missed you. It’s been days since your last encounter (not counting yesterdays’s because let’s just forget about that right?) and Niki was missing you more and more. (Little did he know, you did too.)

With the constant pace of practice, it was evident to see that the space between you and Riki grew, and Riki wasn’t the only one who was upset about this.

Missing your time spent with the boy, you can’t help but feel giddy as you notice him in the fields. “Hey you.” Niki greeted you as you drew closer. “How’s practice?”

Just like before the two of you quickly catch up with each other. With you standing ahead of him, attention only on him, he almost forgot about about what he saw the other day. Almost.

“Y/n! There you are!” Striding towards the both of you was someone Niki has been dreading to see. Great is that Minho guy. Why did he had to ruin everything. As he draws near, Riki can see Sunoo from afar, trying to call Lino back.

With Minho now amongst the two, Niki felt the breeze of awkwardness coming through as Minho looked at him with a certain gaze. “Oh…who’s this?”

You can practically hear the smirk from his question. Sighing to yourself before looking up to only to see the mischievous glint evident in his brown hues.

“Right, I forgot to introduce you two. Uhm, Riki this is Lino oppa or Lee Minho, he’s training me for the upcoming tournament.”

The boy let out a small “o”. Bowing his head slightly in respect and Minho does the same.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Lino raised his eyebrows at you and you resist the urge to slap him across the face.

Riki felt out of place as he watched the two of you bicker. But still, he stood there waiting for you to continue.

“He’s also my…uh.”

“Say it.”

“Gosh can’t you just shut up?”

“Just say it! Are you embarrassed of me or something?”

“Yeah if you keep acting like this!”

“I’ll say it if you don’t say it.”

“Ugh fine!” Looking back to Riki you continued. “He’s also my…brother.”

Oh. Brother. Oh. OH. OH.

Riki’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment as he recalled cussing the man out in his mind. Unbeknownst to him he has been praying the downfall of his crush’s brother?

The boy bowed his head once more. Still flushed and embarrassed, he decided to greet him again, properly this time. “Nice to meet you, Minho hyung.”

Minho nodded and smiled at him in response. “And you are?”

“I’m Nishimura Riki, Niki for short. But you can call me Riki.” He introduced himself before continuing. “I’m Yn’s uhm…friend.”

Hearing him addressing you as “friends” made your heart clenched the way it shouldn’t. After all that’s what you guys were. Just two friends who support each other. Nothing less nothing more.

“Okay Riki now I need to ask you. Are you good enough for my hmph-” You clasped your hand on you brother’s mouth before he could even continue. Feigning a laugh as you ignored Minho’s protest and spotted Sunoo in a distance.

“Oh hey Sunoo! Riki’s here!”

OH, NIKI YOU’RE SO FINE! — CHP TWENTY-FIVE

𖥻 masterlist ⟲ prev | next ⟳

aerin’s notes ☆

warrr is overrr (for now) expect a lot of fluffs before the climax baes 😘

TAGLIST. closed !

@roseyrays @itsactuallylina @1-800shutthefuckup @belovedxiao @luvistqrzzz @yanagisprettygf @yunicide @anyavaramyr @ghostiiess @catryu @ixomiyu @maerijw @txtmetonight @jaehaki @be0m9yu @kpop1sworld @astrae4 @whippedforbeomgyu @pkjay @j-wyoung @kazmura @bekiss-world @run2seob @haechansbbg @positivelyinlovewithjungwon @ihrtnrk @rreynca @gyubeari @iea-tsand @l0ve-joy @maybemiko @strwberrydinosaur @beomgyusonlywife @yumilovesloona @miko1ly @gyurtl @momsheaa @leiluvs @rikimylove @myknifeyourlife @r1k1slvr

#enhanet #enhypen x reader #enhypen smau #niki x reader #riki x reader #riki nishimura x reader #enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen niki #enhypen riki #enha smau #enha x reader #enha fluff #niki fluff

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universitypenguin · 2 years ago

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Chapter 15

Summary: Lloyd takes things too far in his threat against Deputy Russell and has to change tactics mid-stream. Princess and Zach decide to push back against Detective Roth's allegations.

Word Count: 3,936

Masterlist

Warnings: Mention of drug trafficking, murder, legal proceedings, spy/intelligence agencies, corruption, stalking, violence, threatening, and discussion of criminal behavior. Minor foul language. Only appropriate for 18+ readers. No minors.

The Princess & the Lawyer Chapter 15

Lloyd stood at the stove stirring a noxious mixture of gasoline and aluminum hydroxide. Pungent fumes hung thick in the air, forcing him to cover his mouth and nose with a bandanna.

The screen door slammed, and familiar footsteps echoed through the hall.

“Ugh! What is that stench? Did a gas line rupture?”

Elliot’s voice rang through the house before he came around the corner into the kitchen.

His bright-eyed appearance was in sharp contrast with Lloyd’s sleep-deprived state. Knowing his cousin had been left in charge of their captive all night, Lloyd couldn’t help but draw the obvious conclusion. Elliot’s excessive cheerfulness was derived from a more potent source than caffeine - he was smoking ice again.

“I followed your instructions and made a copy of Carl’s phone,” Elliot said, buzzing with excitement. “Guess what? Sheriff Holbrook’s texts are still on there, tucked away in some encrypted app. We could use it as leverage!”

Lloyd shook his head. “No. We can’t deviate from the plan. Did Russell agree to a meeting time?”

“Eleven o'clock at High Meadows.”

“Not a bad choice. Lots of entrances and exits,” Lloyd said. “I’m almost finished here. There’s water cooler jugs filled with this stuff piled up on the back deck. Bring your truck around and start loading them for me, will you?”

“Sure thing, man.”

Elliot bounded down the hall and Lloyd rubbed his tired eyes. He desperately needed some sleep unless he planned on asking Elliot for a bump of meth to keep him going. Lloyd shut off the stove, checked the final batch of chemicals, and rinsed his spoon in the sink. He stuck his head outside to inform Elliot he was going to bed and headed up the stairs.

Just as he lay down, his phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Hansen? This is Judy Lange from the HOA. I wanted to let you know that the association swimming pool has been fixed and approved for reopening on Monday. Should I leave your keys in the mailbox for your house sitter, or wait until you’re back?”

Mrs. Lange didn’t actually hold an official position with the Homeowners Association. Her husband had campaigned for the post out of pure spite. His single-minded crusade against Della Collins’ window box planters and their “busy-looking” Ultra Star Petunias earned him a landslide victory in the election. He’d passed a statute banning all multicolored blossoms from public spaces and after his triumph, lost interest in executing the duties of his office.

Despite her eccentric husband, Lloyd found Mrs. Lange to be a reasonable person. Her annoying habit of speaking at a million words per minute was made up for by impeccable manners and a sharp sense of humor. Even Mrs. Collins, who was still torqued at Mr. Lange a year later, couldn’t resist her charms.

After his brain finally managed to process her rapid fire words, Lloyd grunted.

“The mailbox is fine. I’ll text my friend and let her know to pick them up.”

“Excellent. I apologize for calling you at such a time, Lloyd.”

Mrs. Lange’s voice carried a hint of horror, as if she’d just realized she had contacted someone in the midst of a family tragedy. Lloyd didn’t view the situation as such, but he recognized the apologetic shift in her tone as she launched into a long winded explanation.

“With everything going on, I am sure now is a terrible time for you… I just didn’t want to forget. You’re the most frequent patron of our athletic facilities. Well, usually the only patron to be frank. Mrs. Collins isn’t getting around like she used to after her knee surgery. Anyways, I’ll personally take those keys to your friend so they’re ready when you get back. And if there’s anything I can do for you, don’t hesitate to reach out.”

She really meant it, Lloyd thought, his lips twisting into a bitter smile. If only she knew what the man who he was supposed to be grieving had done to him.

“Thanks, Judy. I appreciate it.”

“Of course, darling. I’ll see you around.”

Already half asleep, Lloyd hung up the phone. His last thought was that he needed to call you. Hearing from Judy reminded him of home, and of you. It had been days since your last talk and that was far too long. Before the meeting with Russell, Lloyd promised himself he’d make time for a conversation.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You stalked back and forth in front of Zach’s desk, breathing hard, your fists clenched in frustration.

“I can’t believe his nerve! Can you believe this? Can you?!”

“Uh-huh.”

Zach grunted and continued tapping on his keyboard.

“He has the audacity to accuse us of leaking information to the media, without a shred of evidence? It’s unprofessional!”

Zach nodded, seemingly absorbed in his work.

“I spent so much time building them a database and now no one can use it. The whole process was exhausting and tedious and… are you even listening to me?”

“Yes. Roth is an infuriating bastard. I knew it from the start, and you thought he was cute.”

“I did not!”

“Did so,” Zach said.

“Did not.”

“Let’s not lose sight of our most important objective here.”

“Yes, let’s not. What is that objective, again?” you asked.

“Getting back in Roth’s good graces and thereby, restoring our access to information and resources.”

“I’m sorry, were we just in the same room? About twenty minutes ago, when Roth kicked us to the curb and Bishop had a melt down?”

“We’re not going to let our hard work go to waste. There’s more than one key for every lock, you know?”

“Uh… that’s not how locks work.”

“It is when you know how to pick locks,” Zach quipped.

“I haven’t even told you about my conversation with Mr. Liu!”

He resumed typing, his attention focused on the monitor. “No sister?”

“Well, that’s a very anticlimactic way of putting it, but yes. He’s certain that Julia didn’t have a sister.”

“That’s the conclusion I ended up at too.”

“Should we tell Roth?”

“I’d rather clear our names first,” Zach said.

“How?”

“Look at this.”

Zach pivoted his monitor to show you the screen.

You stared at a map of Arlington with a route highlighted in purple. Squinting, you noted the web address of a popular running app called PacePal. The account’s username was generic and the profile picture was an image of a man's athletic shoes.

“What am I looking at?”

Zach smirked. “This PacePal profile belongs to Peter Shaw. The account photo is of the same running shoes he’s wearing in the Twitter he shared last year of himself finishing the Miami Marathon.”

“Okay, not to make myself look like an idiot, but who is Peter Shaw?”

“A very tenacious investigative reporter with Rolling Stone Magazine. He’s also the only person who knows the real identity of the leaker, and thanks to his lax attitude toward social media security, we know where Mr. Shaw will be at two o’clock this afternoon.”

“So, if I’m hearing you correctly, we’re going to give Detective Roth a taste of his own medicine?”

“I intend to serve him a fresh plate of crow as soon as humanly possible,” Zach said.

You raised an eyebrow. “Ruthless much?”

“I didn’t pull in that jackass Lattimer without a damn good reason. We’re onto something with Julia’s supposed sister and if we don’t keep pushing the trail will go cold. What do you say, Princess? Shall we go put Shaw on notice?”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Lloyd called you when he woke, but reached your voicemail instead of you. He sent a text instead and dove into the shower to scrub off the lingering stench of gasoline that clung to his skin.

None of the clothes he’d packed suited the character he wanted to portray tonight, so he rummaged through Joe’s closet in search of better options. In the back, he discovered a garment bag containing the winning ensemble: a navy suit with wide lapels, bootcut trousers, and a matching waistcoat. It screamed 1970’s gaudy at the top of its lungs.

To complete the look, Lloyd installed the hair extensions he’d sent Elliot to acquire from a beauty supply store two towns over. Cutting the remaining extensions into three-inch pieces, he applied them carefully across his jaw, smirking as he remembered April's suggestion that he should grow a beard. The overall effect was a cross between Jerry Garcia and Medusa on a bad hair day.

For accessories, Lloyd raided Joe’s dresser. He added rings, a gold chain necklace, and a pair of lightly tinted orange sunglasses. The oversized frames elevated the look from vintage inspired to unmistakably costume like - a perfect fit for the character he was putting on. He slapped on a strongly scented aftershave he found in Joe’s medicine cabinet and instantly regretted it when his eyes watered from the fumes.

Resisting the urge to wash it off, he turned his attention to more practical matters. Joe’s gun cabinet yielded a wide assortment of armaments. He owned weapons from every firearms manufacturer on the market in the past fifty years. Lloyd wasn’t keen to give a hopped up meth addict a gun, but circumstances demanded it. He picked up a Winchester Renegade and checked the ammunition.

“Hey, Elliot! How’s your aim these days?”

Elliot turned around from his task of cleaning up the kitchen and did a double take of Lloyd’s outfit.

“Better than most people’s. What are you wearing, dude? Are we going to make a drug deal or audition for Saturday Night Fever?”

Lloyd snorted at the question and held out the Winchester Renegade.

“I need you to watch my back while I’m meeting with Russell. Just in case things don’t go according to plan.”

“Understood. I’m the second shooter on the grassy knoll,” Elliot said.

They took back roads to the meeting spot. By the time they reached their destination, Elliot’s old truck was covered in mud from the unpaved roads that cut through the vast Idaho landscape. They were deep in the countryside, hidden from prying eyes of passersby on the highway by miles of barren hills.

High Meadows had once been a thriving venue for team roping and barrel racing events. Now, the clay earth he remembered as being meticulously groomed played host to an invasion of dandelions and scotch thistle. The red aluminum roof over the pavilion had faded to a dull rust color and the cedar panel fencing that encircled the space was bent with age and broken in several places.

He helped Elliot unload the water cooler jugs filled with the gelled fuel that he’d spent the morning cooking. Lloyd marked out a circle, about twenty feet in diameter, in the middle of the arena and cut a small trench into the ground. With Elliot’s help he poured the viscous mixture into the trough and raked the displaced dirt back into place.

They hid their equipment in the bed of Elliot’s truck and moved the vehicle into a ravine near the main access road to High Meadows.

Lloyd turned to his cousin. “Go take up position on that hill over there.”

He pointed to a spot beyond the dilapidated grandstands. “It has the best vantage point. Also, there’s a thermal scope in your backpack in case the night vision doesn’t cut it.”

Elliot slung his backpack over his shoulder and disappeared into the hills. Lloyd took his position in the arena as the sun settled behind the horizon. He lay down on one of the risers in the grandstands, propped his feet up, and dozed until the sun went down. Suddenly, the crackle of the Bluetooth in his ear brought Lloyd back to the present as Elliot’s voice broke him from semi-unconscious.

“Russell is pulling in,” Elliot said.

“I see the headlights,” Lloyd confirmed.

The beams of Russell’s headlights cut through the darkness, illuminating the arena. Lloyd leaned casually against a pillar on the far side. The position gave him plenty of time to observe Russell as he approached. The deputy was clearly spooked - he’d worn a bulletproof vest over his khaki uniform.

“Nice of you to finally show up,” Lloyd called out in greeting.

Russell stepped into the arena, his eyes scanning the space, trying to assess the situation.

“Who are you?”

“Didn’t Carl tell you? We’re the Canadians,” Lloyd said, flashing a mischievous grin.

Russell’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Now, let’s get down to business!” Lloyd clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “Don’t look so tense, Luke. I’m here to make you rich, and myself even richer. You see, I came here to shake down a former associate, but the trouble is this jackass died before I could get to him. So, I found a locally connected businessman and squeezed until he spilled your name.”

The deputy’s nostrils flared, a warning sign Lloyd waved off dismissively.

“Don’t worry about it. I took care of him.”

“What do you mean you ‘took care of him’?” Russell demanded.

“I took him for a swim in Redfish Lake, the kind you don’t come back from,” Lloyd said, punctuating that statement with a wink.

Russell’s shock was palpable. Lloyd gave him a beat to recover, but when he just got a blank stare in response, he shifted tactics and threw his arms out in exaggerated frustration.

“Oh, come on! Be fucking for real, bro. Do you have two brain cells left rattling around in that ugly mug, pig? I got rid of your dealer because, number one, he’s a snitch and I don’t fuck with snitches. Number two, getting rid of Carl gives you the opportunity to set up a more reliable distribution system. Isn’t that nice? An open playing field with no territorial disputes from the locals? You can thank me now, or later.”

Russell hesitated. Lloyd didn’t let the silence linger.

“Okay, then. You’ll thank me later. Look, about-”

“You really killed Carl?”

Lloyd sighed. “Would I lie to you? Me? I have a reputation to uphold, Deputy.”

“You’re a fucking psychopath, that’s what you are,” Russell said, edging backwards.

“Hey! We’re not done talking business!” Lloyd yelled after the man as he turned away.

“Yes we are. Go to hell!”

“Don’t walk away from me, pig! This isn’t the kind of conversation you can just walk away from!”

Lloyd’s voice echoed through the pavilion, ringing with anger.

Russell glanced over his shoulder.

“Oh, Luke… My number one rule is simple: I don’t fuck with snitches. Rule number two? Dirty cops who know your face are bad business. You see, they always end up being snitches. It’s like different flavors of the same ice cream. Triple chocolate fudge or brownie delight, who can tell ‘em apart?”

As Russell’s hand went for his gun, Lloyd flipped open his lighter and tossed it on the ground. The carefully prepared mixture of gasoline ignited instantly, shooting up and forming a wall of fire that raced around to encircle them.

Taken by surprise, Deputy Russell instinctively moved away from the searing heat of the flames an action that inadvertently drew him closer to Lloyd.

“Isn’t this nice? I find it rather cozy, like stepping into a bubble of security.”

Lloyd chuckled, his smile twisted with madness.

“This is how you conduct business?” Russell hissed, eyes glinting with shocked desperation as the flames continued to roar around them.

“I find it refocuses the attention when a deal starts getting off track.”

“What the hell do you want?!”

“I’ve made myself very clear, Russell. You need to work on your attention span. Here’s the deal: we become business partners… or you become a victim of what I like to call ‘spontaneous human combustion.’”

“Spontaneous,” the deputy muttered, looking at the flames.

“I never really plan on cremating anyone,” Lloyd said, as if it were the most reasonable thing in the world to discuss incinerating your business associates. “Every time I’ve actually gone through with this, the whole thing happens so fast, it really does look spontaneous. Now, Deputy… What do you say? Ready to make a deal?”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You sat beside Zach on a park bench, trying to make the most of the slight shade of a tree that offered a tiny bit of respite from the blistering August heat. The sound of approaching footfalls was a major relief. Five more minutes out here and you would have melted. You glanced up to see Peter Shaw, a man of average height with close cropped dark hair, nearing your bench.

Zach stood up and moved to the center of the path, blocking access to the parking lot.

“Peter Shaw. I’m Zach Hightower and this is Y/N. I assume you know who I am?”

The journalist stopped a few feet away from Zach. He was dripping with sweat, but still had the energy to offer a cocky smirk. He glanced in your direction and arched an eyebrow.

“The investigative duo. Where’s Hansen? Isn’t he usually your partner?”

“I read your article this morning. It was very interesting,” Zach said.

“Thanks. What part did you enjoy the most?”

“I thought it was very well researched. You even knew where the recent evidence was being stored. That was a very… interesting… detail to include in the article.”

Peter shrugged. “I take pride in my work.”

“The other little thing that jumped out and grabbed me was about the evidence collected in the Nguyen case twenty years ago. Your source criticized the chain of custody related to Shun Nguyen’s cell phone. That was extremely specific.”

Shaw’s grin turned from smug to sly. “I always make sure my sources have a keen eye for detail. Now if you’ll excuse me…”

“One more thing. The criticism you leveled at the State Police for handling the digital evidence from that cell phone? Well, it went over my head, but I’ve got a guy who’s a genius with that kind of thing. When I showed him the article he said you’d need to consult with an expert in digital forensics to break down those kinds of technical concepts as clearly as you did.”

“Actually, I’m just that good,” Peter said, crossing his arms.

“You have a degree in English and absolutely no background in tech. You’re not that good… but I believe your source is. The level of insight they gave you left their fingerprints all over that article, Shaw. Your man’s days are numbered. If you were as good as you think you are, his head wouldn’t be heading for the chopping block.”

The journalist snorted. “Do you run, Mr. Hightower?”

“Only when someone’s shooting at me. Why?”

“Just wondering if you get any other forms of exercise, besides jumping to conclusions.”

“It’s more of a step-by-step chain of logic that links together quite nicely. You really are a good writer, Shaw - very organized. That made it much easier to fill in the blanks. Does the name Leo McKenzie ring a bell?”

The blood drained from Shaw’s face, turning his lips white. Zach grinned.

“Good talking to you, Pete. Thanks for your time! Come on, Princess, let’s go.”

“You’re way off base, Hightower,” he called after you.

Zach gave him a cheerful wave. “Hey, Pete, since you’ve undoubtedly got my number, why don’t you give me a call next time you need a source? I can teach you how to cover your tracks so you don’t keep burning through informants.”

Then he lengthened his stride, forcing you into a jog as you tried to keep up. Once you were in the privacy of his vehicle, you gaped at him.

“Are you crazy? Did you just invite that sleazebag to call you?”

“Sure. He’s made more progress on this case than anyone else. We can’t ignore that.”

“How did you know who his source was? Did you guess?”

“Deduction isn’t guessing and that look on his face was all the confirmation I needed.”

“We should tell Detective Roth.”

“No. Let him figure it out on his own. He won’t believe anything we tell him at the moment.”

“But the security of the investigation is at stake!”

“Not for long. Shaw will contact his source and alert them that we’re onto them. I want to give Detective Roth the chance to redeem himself. Also, if he can’t find a mole in his own department, I’m not sure I want to work with him.”

“Right. Hey, where are we going?”

Zach turned onto an unfamiliar exit, one that headed away from his office.

“I’ve got to make another stop. Don’t worry, it won’t take long.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Elliot drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. "You really freaked him out."

"Mmmhh."

"He's going to send those drugs up in flames."

The insight was spot on. Deputy Russell’s wavering commitment to the sale was becoming more evident as dawn broke. He had raced back to the security of the Sheriff’s Offices after meeting with “the Canadians” and spent the rest of the night holed up there. Through the front window, Lloyd watched his shadow move behind the blinds.

The silhouette moved from left to right, and then crossed back again, from right to left. Russell was already a paranoid bastard and introducing a real threat to his life may have been a step too far. His restless actions raised a red flag in Lloyd’s assessment of the situation. Watching him through binoculars from their high vantage point in the parking lot of the White Rivers campsite, Lloyd decided it was time to ease the pressure and give Russell an escape hatch.

He was too spooked to hand the drugs over directly to the Canadians. After the ring of fire incident Russell was probably more likely to shoot Lloyd if he ever saw him again instead of cooperating with him.

“We’re going to plan B,” Lloyd said. “Give me a burner phone.”

He held out a hand and Elliot pressed a device into his palm. Lloyd dialed and watched through the binoculars as the blinds of the Sheriff’s office raised. He couldn’t see anyone, but he knew Russell was somewhere inside.

The call connected.

“Hello? Who is this?”

Lloyd spoke hoarsely. “Hello. Deputy Luke Russell?”

“This is he.” Russell sounded suspicious.

"This is Agent Ambrosio of the ATF. Do you have a moment to speak with me? Somewhere private would be best if possible."

"Yeah, yeah. I can do that," Russell said.

There was feedback as he moved, the the sound of a door closing. He must have gone to his office.

“Okay. I can talk now.”

"Russell, I'm calling about your boss, Sheriff Holbrook. Are you aware of the case against him?"

"Uh… you mean that thing from last year?"

"Eighteen months ago," Lloyd clarified. "The federal investigation into Holbrook's involvement with the drug trade has continued, which is why I'm reaching out. We need your cooperation."

"What can I do to help you, agent?”

"We have everything that we need to make an arrest. This is a courtesy call, Deputy. We're moving on him tomorrow morning. Do you understand?"

"Oh… Wow… Okay, is there anything I can do?" Russell asked.

"We're still organizing things. Holbrook is constantly armed, and we're aware of how high-risk this operation will be. I’d be more comfortable with the situation I’m sending my men into if we had your cooperation.”

“Absolutely. Whatever you need, sir.”

Lloyd’s mouth curved into a smile. Pushing too hard may have been the right play after all. His prey had just swallowed the bait without noticing the hook that pierced his lip along with it.

Game. Set. Match.

All that was left to do was reel in his catch.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Next - Part XVI

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Masterlist

Taglist:

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#the princess and the lawyer #series: the princess and the lawyer #the princess & the lawyer #series: the princess & the lawyer #lloyd hansen x y/n #lloyd hansen x you #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen x female reader #lloyd hansen x fem! reader #lloyd hansen au #lloyd hansen fanfic #lloyd hansen fanfiction #lloyd hansen fic #chris evans characters #chris evans characters fanfic #chris evans characters fic #the gray man fanfiction #the gray man fanfic

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airi-p4 · 1 year ago

Text

Spark joy

Hi! I wrote a new short fic. It's the one I shared for this past Six Sentence Sunday.

Enjoy?

Summary:

When Alya and Sabine scold Marinette, she finally cleans up and tidies her room.

…and her heart.

AO3

_____________________________

It all started with her best friend's comment:

"Girl, I have no idea how you plan to find anything in this mess! No wonder you lose and forget everything!"

��Which her mother's scolding seconded:

"Marinette, what's with this mess!? I know it’s summer vacation but you should tidy up your room. C'mon! Clean it up!"

"But-" the girl tried to protest, but was interrupted.

"If you don't, then I'll do it myself. And I'll throw away whatever I feel like. Don't come crying to me if you miss something!"

Marinette knew from the hands on her hips, the annoyed brows and the threatening tone, that she was being serious.

"No, please! Don't throw anything away! I'll do it!"

"Tomorrow is Sunday. I want to see everything clean and tidy by the end of the day!"

"Okay…"

___

They were both right: her room was untidy.

A total mess.

But how was she supposed to tidy up her room? All cupboards, drawers and boxes were already stuffed. Where was she supposed to put all her new staff in these conditions?

A visit to Mylene's house that Saturday afternoon gave her a completely new impression.

Minimalistic. Green. Tidy.

Pretty.

"Wow, Mylene. Your room is so clean and tidy!" Marinette admired it, looking around. "How do you always keep it so nice?"

"Have you ever heard of 'the life-changing magic of tidying up'? Or Marie Kondo?"

Mylene opened her eyes with a new vision of the world.

___

The main idea of Mylene's advice to tidy up her room was easy:

You ask yourself a question about a certain item: "does it spark joy to you?"

If the answer is "yes," it stays, if the answer is "no," it goes away.

Moreover, it is important to take notice of how your body reacts to the object.

Tidying up with this method consists of repeating this process until only items that spark joy remain.

Simple.

Even Marinette should be able to do it.

She decided to try it out.

Back at home, she started with the items on her desk.

The sewing machine, the fabrics, the accessories, the glitter, the buttons, the measuring tape, the scissors… all the sewing tools and supplies- they all sparked joy. They were clearly staying.

Her school books and homework… they didn't spark joy. But those were obligations- responsibilities-, just like her earrings. She couldn't throw them away (even if she secretly wished to sometimes).

Her drawing tools and crafting materials; stickers, washi tapes, patterned paper and sketchbooks… They were all surely staying. So much joy in drawing and designing!

She continued looking around when her little friend approached.

"What about this, Marinette?" Tikki asked, carrying a dusty exotic mask around. "I don't think you need this…"

"No! Don't throw it away, Tikki!" She quickly grabbed it. "I got this from one of grandma Ginna's trips! I have to keep it!"

"Does it spark joy, then?"

"It does! Well, not exactly, but we had a welcome party for her that day, and papa baked a cake that day. It brings back good memories!" She fondly recalled. "The mask stays. And so do all of granny Ginna's souvenirs!"

"What about Ginna's candy…?"

"Oh- Ugh… I thought I had gotten rid of all of them…" she made a disgusted expression. "Definitely doesn't spark joy. We're throwing them. It's not a secret anymore that I don't like them so…"

"That's true," Tikki nodded, throwing the candy inside the trash bin.

Marinette moved to her cupboard next.

"All my clothes obviously stay!"

"Aren't these too small for you, Marinette?" Tikki asked at the sight of child sized outfits.

"They are, but I plan to reuse them for creating new pieces of clothing- giving them a second life. There's that '3R: recycling, reuse and reduce' event that Mylene promotes coming soon. We gotta do what we can to save the planet!"

Tikki nodded with a grin, and proceeded to imitate Marinette's arms in a cross shape pose, ready to say a tv program's motto in unison:

"Little changes are powerful!"

They laughed together as they continued tidying up.

___

"My bed!" Marinette jumped, wiggling her legs. "The cat plushie is obviously staying!" She hummed happily. "And the books and the night light too!" She collected and put them back on the shelf.

"Comfy" Tikki muffled snuggling the long cushion.

Marinette giggled at her cuteness.

“Should I throw my alarm clock away…?” she asked, cheekily. “Marinette, don’t!”

“I’m joking, Tikki!” She laughed at the kwami’s protest.

"Okay, next is-"

Her heart skipped a beat, and suddenly, her mood dropped- body tense and mouth turning into a flat line.

"What's wrong, Marinette?" Tikki asked. But then she looked where Marinette was staring at and she understood.

The cork board… and the photos.

"Oh…"

Adrien's photos had been there for a long time. Since that rainy day when he gave her his umbrella and that thunder struck some months ago- and when she (and her friends, including Tikki) had convinced herself that it had been love at first sight, just because of a nice one-time gesture.

Since then, she had done some crazy things to get Adrien's attention- some on her own and some others encouraged by others- all of them with the same result: a fiasco. Only embarrassment and humiliation from her part.

It was tiring.

Plus the model boy had never paid special attention to her anyway…

Well, except-

The lucky charm Adrien gave her for her birthday.

Right- she hadn't cleaned up that drawer yet…

He did put effort into it, since it was handmade.

For a "friend," he had said.

It was so obvious he didn't feel anything more for her.

The current question was: "Do these photos spark joy?"

She went into deep thought.

"Marinette? What are you thinking?"

"Tikki, I think… I think Adrien's photos do not spark joy"

"What?"

"I can't recall what's good about Adrien anymore, Tikki. All the girls' plans to get closer to him always fail and I get humiliated or embarrassed in front of him and everyone else as a result. People think I’m crazy… Geez- I can't even articulate a single word or talk to him like a normal person at all!" She sighed. "And after the failure with the statue at the wax museum…" that was probably the last straw. Too much. A turning point.

Tikki looked at her in concern.

"I don't know, Tikki. I think loving Adrien doesn't spark joy to me anymore. At all"

"But, Marinette-!" The kwami gasped.

"You've just seen it, Tikki! Whenever I look at these photos, my mood darkens and I get sadder, anxious, uncomfortable-" she took a deep breath. "Yes, both these photos and going after Adrien do not spark joy" she looked at Tikki. "I'm getting rid of the photos"

"Are you sure…?"

"I'm sure"

"What about the lucky charm? Are you going to throw it away, too?"

"I don't know… I think I'll keep it. At least for now? I hate throwing presents and gifts away, honestly. I even keep all of Manon's ugly drawings and stones or sticks she picked up at the park because I'd feel bad for throwing them away! So I'll keep the lucky charm hidden in a drawer as a birthday present from a classmate, nothing more"

"You know what, Marinette?"

"Hm?"

"I think this might be one reason why you're so untidy! You can't throw away the presents you've been given!"

"Tikki!" Marinette pouted at the kwami's laugh before joining her. "I think you're right…" she added, remembering a messy little pottery figure Kim gave her many years ago lying somewhere deep inside a drawer. Was it a dolphin? A snake? A monkey? Perhaps a pigeon…? Why did she even keep it if she had no idea what it was supposed to be?

Yes, Tikki was absolutely right about her incapacity to keep her room tidy…

"Let's get rid of these photos first. I think it's time to tidy my heart as well"

Tikki didn't question her- she could tell that the girl had set her resolve. Supportively, she helped her remove and throw them away.

___

With Adrien's photos gone (except the one with the whole class), Marinette could finally smile while looking at her corkboard.

Photos of her with her best friend, Alya, the girls, her friends and classmates, her family, and-

It took her few seconds to realize the extra spark a certain photo caused her:

Luka

This amazing, patient boy who was always there for her, who had been nothing but respectful and nice towards her and sometimes it even felt like their minds and hearts were completely in sync. A boy who was sweet, caring, that made her laugh and, more importantly, a true friend. Maybe a bit more than that since he… he had confessed his feelings for her some time ago- with the most beautiful words she had ever heard. She blushed at the memory, her heart beating faster.

That alluring revelation had made her happy.

Very happy.

And so, looking at Luka's photo felt like-

Joy.

A great amount of joy.

Fireworks.

He never failed to bring a smile to her face (and redness to her cheeks, too).

"I guess this certain photo does spark joy, then?" Tikki teased her human friend.

"Tikki!" She flustered.

"I guess it stays?"

"Yes, it stays. He absolutely stays" Marinette smiled warmly at his image.

That's right, he had been busy lately and barely met up or talked. She didn't want to interrupt his summer music course but…

She missed him.

Maybe- she could try to give him a call…? Or send him a message?

Yes, that would be nice.

A warm smile spread on her face as she typed.

'Hi Luka'

'I know you're busy with your music course and I hope I'm not disturbing you but I was wondering if you had time to talk…?'

'I mean-!'

'It doesn't have to be now! Just whenever you find the time? If you feel like it?'

Was this okay? What if she'd just disturbed him? She didn't have time to overthink it since a new message arrived on her phone.

'Hello, Marinette'

'You're not disturbing me'

'And for you, I can always make the time'

'What's up? :)'

Gosh- she loved that about him… And his eyes… and his smile..

Wait- don’t get distracted!

Focus, Marinette!

‘I wanted to tell you something,’ she texted.

Luka: ‘Sure. What is it?’

Marinette: ‘You spark joy’

Luka: ‘???’

Luka: ‘I spark joy?’

Marinette: ‘Yes!’

Marinette: ‘A lot of joy!’

Luka: ‘???’

Luka: ‘What’s this about?’

Luka: ‘What am I missing…?’

Luka: ‘I can almost hear you giggling on the other side of the phone’

He wasn't wrong. She was giggling.

This boy lived on the Liberty, a houseboat that was a hundred times untidier and messier than her own room. She didn't expect him to know much about tidying up- even though she knew he and his sister Juleka secretly cleaned when Anarka was out.

Besides, Marinette really couldn't picture the Captain asking herself if all that junk she had around sparked joy- the image alone was very funny in her head.

Luka: ‘So you're really not going to tell me? I'm curious now’

Marinette: ‘Fine, I'll tell you’

Marinette: ‘But only if you agree to go out with me the next day you’re free!’

Gosh-! She did it! She asked him out!

Luka: ‘Sure. I'd love to’

Luka: ‘I'm free on Wednesday’

Marinette: ‘Wednesday it is!’

Luka: ‘Cool :)’

Marinette: ‘It's a date ;) ’

…

There was a long pause.

Did she break him (hopefully)? Was he squealing like she had just briefly done after sending the message? Kicking his feet as she did too, a moment ago? Or maybe he was more the type to yell at the pillow…?

She didn't scare him, did she…?

Her heart was beating fast with anticipation.

And his reply arrived.

It was a short audio with some happy guitar notes.

Luka: ‘Great!’

Luka: ‘I’m looking forward to it! :D ’

She giggled happily as Tikki hugged her.

Marinette: ‘I'll bring macarons!’

Luka: ‘Awesome!’

He sent another audio, this time longer, filled with more happy guitar tunes.

Both of their silly smiles didn’t leave their faces for the rest of the day.

By the evening, her room was clean and tidy to Sabine's surprise and delight.

What Marinette’s mother didn’t know yet was that her heart was also clean and tidy, probably even more than her room. At some point, she should really throw away all these useless presents she still collected… Sooner rather than later, probably.

It still amazed her how, with just the removal of a few photos, her heart felt much happier and lighter, filled with a great amount of joy towards a wonderful blue-haired boy as she excitedly awaited their date on Wednesday.

Little changes were powerful, indeed.

Fin

#my fic #airip4 #lukanette fic #endgame lukanette

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gabriel-xander · 3 months ago

Text

Don't Forget

[Sans x Female!Reader]

18: Sexy Nurse

♪────✿��(⁠✧◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕✧⁠)✿⁠────♪

You suppose one of the benefits of being sick is that you have a cheap excuse to be lazy. You get to sit around all day and boondoggle! You bet Sans is jealous of your bitch ass for that, too.

Though, as much as you adore Papyrus (you guess Sans is okay), you cannot trust them to get the right things on your list. It’s a little too late since they left over thirty minutes ago; they left with your list, and almost all of your gold doubloons. You debated watching some TV but they don’t have shows other than Mettaton’s (sometimes), and you don’t feel like watching that sexy robot.

Huh.

Actually, you wonder what Mettaton will look like in person.

You’re not in a rush to find out, though.

You get up from the couch, going to your suitcase to pick out some warmer clothes and a dark blue-gray hoodie. If you were a more confident bitch, you would just get dressed in the living room. But what if Sans suddenly shows up without warning while you’re half naked? Oh God, what if Papyrus shows up?! You don’t want to traumatize him with your nakedness.

You change in the washroom instead, getting your sad twenty gold pieces, and leave the house. You make sure not to lock the door behind yourself, hoping it’ll be just fine since you’re not planning to go far.

Ugh, the cold is so uncomfortable. You shouldn’t be out here, it’s only going to make your sickness worse. You really don’t want to wait for Sans and Papyrus to do this, so you’re getting it over with now.

You stay by the door and look down your right. There doesn’t seem to be a lot of people outside right now. There’s the white bear tending to the Christmas tree (you think, it’s hard to tell from this distance), and the brown bear in front of Grillby’s, presumably talking to the white bear. You guess it’s too early for Monster Kid to be out here. Or maybe he’s at school? No, it can’t be that; it’s a Saturday (the 26th of January) and you would like to have hope that the poor kids don’t have school on the weekends.

You gnaw at your bottom lip in thought. You could safely walk to the shop without drawing too much attention, but you don’t feel good enough to be outside for long. Perhaps you can take the tunnel instead. It should be right next to the house, right-

“ah-[y/n]…!”

You turn to your left with wide eyes, the familiar, meek, and smooth voice breaking you from your thoughts.

“Oh, my gosh! Napstablook, hey!”

The ghost of the hour has a little smile on his face, floating closer to you and rocking those headphones. You lean against the door and cross your arms in a subconscious effort to keep warm.

You ask, “What are you doing out here, man? Do you come to Snowdin Town often?”

He shakes his upper half, “i pass through here to get to the ruins since it’s the shortest path. i was on my way to see you, but…” The ghost glances at the house, wincing very slightly but you notice it, “looks like you moved out of the ruins, huh…?”

“Toriel and I agreed that it would be better for me if I got out of the catacombs. Sans apparently volunteered to take me in,” You shake your head, “But you know what I think? I think it was all part of a set-up.”

You smirk and narrow your eyes at the other, “And I think you helped him with that.”

He widens his eyes and shrinks back. “i… i-i-i-”

“-Sorry, I’m just teasing you,” You tell him honestly, “I mean, I do think you and bone boy set this up for some reason, but I’m not mad at you or anything.”

Napstablook looks down guiltily. He would be kicking his foot to and fro if he had any, but you felt the vibes anyway. Aw, you almost feel bad for confronting him knowing he had the intention of seeing you. However, you can’t just allow people to mess with your life even if they’re your sweet friend. It’s not that you’re ungrateful for this push of leaving the Ruins, but you’d prefer it if it happened under your own volition.

Sighing at Napstablook’s silence, you speak up, “Blooky, I’m not mad. But if you were part of the reason why Toriel decided to kick me out “for my own good,” don’t you think I deserve to know why?”

“…………i just… you were so sad… staying there…” Napstablook mumbles softly, still not looking up at you, “at first, miss toriel asked me to… to hang out with you and protect you… but then we became genuine friends and it started to make me sad seeing you get less and less energetic… you were more and more sad, and it didn’t seem like it was going to get better…”

“so… so that’s why i told miss toriel that it would be a good idea for you to get out of the ruins…….”

You smile softly. You want to reach out and comfort him, but one: you’d phase right through him. And two: you’re sick as balls and you don’t want to risk it knowing sickness is fatal to monsters. It might not even be contagious to monsters (or ghosts), but you’re not fucking risking it.

“Sans still has a part in this, right?” Napstablook nods at your question, “Wanna tell me how?”

‘ah, sorry, sans…’ The timid boy thinks, ‘but i think [y/n]’s friendship might mean a little more to me than yours…..’

“i told him about you… the day before we began to hang out……i guess miss toriel told him to retrieve me, and he asked me why…. i told him then…… and everyday after seeing you, i would tell sans about what you and i did that day….”

“Ah, let me guess,” You raise a hand vaguely just to talk with your hands, “Sans suggested that I’d stay with him, so that when Toriel talked to me about leaving, I’d have somewhere to go?”

He nods.

You sigh.

Whelp, Sans just jumped up in your “Motherfuckers to be Careful of” list. Surprisingly, he and Flowey are fighting for the number one spot.

Still, it seems like Napstablook had genuine intentions for you and your well being. You wouldn’t put it past Sans if his motives were sussy, but you know Napstablook doesn’t carry an ounce of malice in him. You suppose you can forgive him just this once. Not that he needed to earn your forgiveness in the first place.

“Hey, you think you can look at me?”

At your gentle tone, it was a lot easier to do as you asked. Huh, you’re smiling at him.

“I’d give you a hug or a pat, but I have an ill—a normal, non-lethal, human sickness right now, and I don’t want to risk you getting sick, too.” You cross your arms again, “I promise you I’m not mad at you. Next time you’re worried about me, just tell me, okay?”

Your expression turns soft and fond, “Thanks for saving me, Blooky.”

“…”

Tears comically shoot out of the Napstablook’s eyes like a high-pressure water hose.

“BLOOKY, OH MY GOD!!”

“um… so,” Comically, the tears stop suddenly, “what are you doing out here…? is… does your human sickness need the cold to go away?”

“Oh, dude. If only it were that easy. I’m about to head to that shop over there to buy some things. Sans and Papyrus are out right now to do some shopping, and I wanted to do this without them knowing.” You tell him.

“oh…… but… if being out here isn’t helping, doesn’t that mean it’s only making you feel worse?”

“Uhhhh-”

Napstablook shakes his upper half, “let me go for you. you should go back inside and stay focused on getting better…”

“Oh!” You perk up, “You’d—really? I mean, you don’t have to but I’d really appreciate the help.”

“i want to, it’s not a big deal. i was going to see you anyway, so… i want to help you…”

You dig into your pockets to get the twenty gold, “Thank you so much. Uh, very specifically, I want two things: a tough glove, and a manly bandana. If the gold isn’t enough, don’t bother with it and come back, okay?”

Actually, just because you said that, Napstablook is going to buy it for you regardless if your gold is enough or not. It’s the very least he can do for you after going behind your back.

“that is specific…”

His eyes seem to glow for a moment then a faint, pale blue light circles around the gold in your hand. Then, just like that, the gold disappears from your hand. That stunt leaves behind a lingering cold feeling of where they once were.

Huh.

Neat trick.

“i’ll be right back…” Napstablook floats around you like the polite little lady he is, “do you want anything else…?”

You shake your hand, already opening the door, “No, just those two things.”

The ghost boy nods, turning around to make his merry way to the shop. You go back into the house and lock the door behind yourself. Napstablook can just phase through it so it should be fine. You change back into your shirt and shorts in the washroom, and sit your punk ass back on the couch.

You contemplated if you should probably wear something warmer, but you just realized!! How much you don’t actually care!!

You get your phone where you hastily left it on the floor. You stare at the black screen for a moment.

Then you turn it on to send a quick message.

──

You: Pspsps

(It takes him two minutes to reply.)

Snasational: sup

You: I may or may not have ran into Napstablook You: TLDR, he knows I’m staying with you and he’s gonna pick something up for me at the shop and he’ll PROBABLY be here still when you two get back

Snasational: wait howd you run into him?

(Ha! He replied instantly there!)

You: I saw his ghosty ass through the window and went out to say hi

(It’s easier to lie over text for you. Do you enjoy it? Absolutely not.)

You: It IS okay if he stays for a bit, right? You: It’s still your house and I can always send him away if you’re uncomfortable with him being around when you or Papyrus aren’t

Snasational: no its fine Snasational: he can make sure you dont perish while we’re gone ig

You: Cool! You: After all You: Napstablook and I have a LOT to talk about You: :)

Snasational: wym by that?

…

Snasational: [y/n]???

──

You leave that cuck on Seen and exit the messaging app. You wonder if now is also a good time to call Toriel, but she sounded pretty fucked up last night. You hope she’s doing okay, she sounded really miserable. You physically shake your head as if that’ll help you stop thinking about it.

She’s not your responsibility, and you’re not obligated to protect her feelings.

Anyway, Sans will be fine if he suffers for a short while. Yeah, he has it pretty rough already, but you’re not here to make his life easy. In fact, if you can do a little bit of trolling on the guy, then you’re going to have great entertainment.

Surely this will have no consequences and Sans won’t be seriously affected by your existence.

Surely.

Anyway, he totally deserves it! Why the hell did Sans want you in Snowdin? How dare he use Napstablook, of all babies, to carry out his deeds, too! Napstablook just wanted to help you, and Sans totally took advantage of that.

You’re not naive; you can guess why Sans did it. If Napstablook told him about you, then the skeleton was probably nervous that you weren’t Frisk. Maybe he thought you were some merciless human and that fact that you’re a stronk adult didn’t help. You understand where his concern is, so you’re not taking it personally.

BUT IT DOESN’T PISS YOU OFF ANY LESS!!!

Yeah, life with Toriel was mundane and boring, but you didn’t hate it! Certainly not to the point of wanting to get out of there. You think it’s also because you shared each other’s souls that you feel a LOT closer to her. You didn’t care if you were going to die of sickness or old age in the Ruins, as long as you were with your goat mom, then it would be fine.

How dare that creepy ass skeleton try to control your mortal life!

…

Okay, you’re not THAT mad but still!

You flop down to lay on the couch. Your punk ass better get better by the end of the week. You don’t want to die of boredom in Snowdin already. Luckily for you, just as you’re contemplating howling at the Sun, there’s a knock at the door.

“i’m back, [y/n].”

Aw, that was his attempt at raising his voice, wasn’t it?

“Can’t you phase right through?”

You hear a faint “oh.” You sit up with a wince (augh, your old lady back!), looking at the front door from where you are.

…

…? What’s taking him so long?

“uh, i-i can’t go through… there’s too much concentrated magic on this door…”

UGHHH!!

You scoff in annoyance while throwing the covers off your body dramatically. You only almost stumble when standing up! Small victories! Small victories! You rush to the door and unlock it, opening it up for the ghost with a smile. He doesn’t appear to be holding anything, but then again, it could be a magic thing. You step aside to let him in, locking the door once again when he floats inside.

“i got the bandana and gloves like you said, but…” Said items begin to appear in front of the ghost, a light, blue hue glowing around them as they hover mid-air, “there was only one glove instead of a pair… i hope that’s okay…”

You carefully take the clothing items, feeling a strange, fleeting coldness on them before they warm up in your hands.

“That’s perfectly fine, I only needed the one, anyway,” You smile, “Thank you so much, Blooky! Uh, how much was it? I can start saving up to pay you back.”

“n-no, that’s not, uh… that’s not necessary.” Napstablook tilts his head, “can i ask why you wanted those things?”

You scrunch up your nose, “Um, maybe another time. It’s a bit of a bummer, if I’m honest.”

“oh…”

“Anyway, I told Sans you were here since this is his house. I plan to talk to him about the whole thing later today when I get the chance. I’m letting you know this because you were involved with Sans’ schemes.” You walk over to the couch to sit down, “But for now, we got some catching up to do. Oh, my gosh–Actually, I have to tell you about my day yesterday.”

Sure, your constant change in tone and topic gave Napstablook whiplash, but when are you ever giving him an easy time? It freaks him out a little that you’re going to talk to Sans about what they did, but he suppose he deserves it even if he had good intentions. It didn’t sound like you were going to throw him under the bus or anything, but still.

…

Is it bad that Napstablook kind of hopes you also make Sans nervous when you inevitably talk to him? Not that he wants the skeleton to suffer or anything, but it would be a little funny.

Just a little.

Taglist:

@lemonboy011

@adriixboo

@fluffyart5000

#fanfiction #reader insert #female reader #sans undertale #sans x reader #sans #undertale #don't forget fanfiction #napstablook #papyrus #papyrus undertale

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cherryheairt · 4 months ago

Note

she never cared for watching her brothers or fathers training in the yard, hating seeing them get hurt in any way.

It makes sense that Daenys wouldn't like to see her brothers train, considering that they are not the only ones in training.

Daenys' sketchbooks would be very intimate rather than her diaries because the drawings would mostly frighten her by the levels of graphic violence portrayed.

I also think that a nice vision Daenys would have would be to see Cregan's children in the castle. Daenys would not know that they are her own children with Cregan, she could only see their backs as they run or she could hear their little giggles and hear their many little steps as they run.

Perhaps Daenys would feel little bodies climbing into her bed in the castle or hear their little voices but not understand what they were saying as they lay in her bed. Daenys would not see them properly, but they would seem strangely familiar, but when she tried to reach them with her hand they would disappear and she would wake up with a great sense of emptiness and loss.

besides poetry and singing, those never interested her.

It makes sense that she wouldn't be interested in those hobbies, considering that both would have meant Daenys having to perform her skills in front of people, which was terribly unthinkable for Daenys due to her social anxiety and pathological shyness.

I think a skill that fits well with Daenys and her prophetic dreams is drawing. I feel Daenys is amazing at drawing because in her sleepwalking state, every time she dreams Daenys could draw what she is dreaming or Daenys could draw it when she wakes up so she doesn't forget.

It is a sadness that Daenys herself considers herself a madwoman and does not believe that her visions are real just because she could not predict Laenor's death, when in fact Daenys never knew that he did not die but simply decided to abandon her and her brothers. I would rather Daenys never learn the truth, it would break her heart and give her a reason to resent her mother and Daemon (aside from the very valid reason that Rhaenyra practically did not protect Daenys from the bullying she was subjected to by Alicent and Aegon when they all lived in the red keep).

UGH THANK YOU I FORGOT TO MENTION DRAWING AS A HOBBY.

of course, she'd be the best artist. her main muse in Morningstar, of course. and occasionally her family. I think it would shift to Cregan, as he is quite comely in her eyes and loves studying his features.

thank you so much for that dream idea, I literally just asked for some filler ideas for my next chap and you read my mind 🤭 I will write it out!

I love how you mentioned Rhae lying about Laenor's death and subsequently making Daenys distrust her own mind. I have big plans for that, actually, and have drafted a few different things for that. you may not like that part 🫣

#dragondreamer

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hannahssimblr · 10 months ago

Text

Chapter Twenty-Nine (Part 2)

“Mad,” Izzy is saying, “Where does the time go, really? How is it the end of August already? The year just flies by, doesn’t it?”

“You sound like an old person when you say things like that,” I point out as I spray down my desk with multi purpose cleaner.

“When you’re my age you’ll get it. One day I was twenty two and then I blinked and I was twenty seven. It will happen to you too.”

“I’m sure it will,” I flip quickly through a paint water stained notebook of old sketches and then decide to chuck it into the bin, “Or maybe not, maybe I’ll be young and sexy forever.”

“Right.”

Simon comes up the stairs carrying his lunch, “Oh, you’re still here,” He deadpans, and I grin at him, “Not moved out yet, Simon, sorry to disappoint.”

“Yeah I was hoping you’d be gone, never to darken this door again by the time I got back from Subway.”

“Nah, you’ll miss me.”

He laughs, “I will.”

“We’ll all miss you,” Izzy said, “You’ve been the most perfect addition to our little team here, I don’t want to think about how it’s going to be without you.”

“Messier,” I say, looking at Gabriel’s desk space, tidy now, but not for long, “and without a desperate intern to get your stupidly specific coffee orders.”

“Ugh! Devastating,” She throws her arms around me in a tight hug, “Simon, can’t we keep her?”

“No,” He smiles and leans back against his desk, “I wish we could, but NCAD awaits, right Evie?”

“Mm.”

“But I will say that you’ll be missed, not just by us but by our clients. You’ve made some important people very happy this year, and I have to give you props for that. There’s a lot of things we really couldn’t have done without you.”

“It’s this creative brain,” Izzy declares, knocking on my head. “She’s a genius. We should crack her skull open to figure out the mystery.”

“If you ever want a job, Evie, you know where to come,” says Simon, “Like, no hesitation, there’s a desk for you at Mezzotint, I’d give you a job right now if you wanted it. Or a glowing reference for anybody else who wants you.”

“Though they might have to fight Simon for you,” Izzy grins.

“Thank you, I’ll… Yeah like I’ll think about it. I’m not totally sure what I want to do yet, you know, whether I’ll go back to college or not. There’s a lot of things to mull over.” Izzy lets me go and I continue putting my things into a cardboard box. “Like, maybe I’ll hit you up for a reference, I don’t know.”

“I’ll give you one either way,” He shrugs, “Tell them to call me any day and I’ll chew their ear off about how badly they need you.”

“But you wouldn’t work anywhere but Mezzotint,” Izzy says, “You’re too loyal for that.”

I laugh, “Yeah, maybe.”

“Nah, maybe she has bigger plans,” says Simon, “Better things to do than illustrate a few birthday cards and draw signs, right Evie?”

“Well, we’ll see,” I say cryptically, “You never know what I might be thinking of next…”

Izzy cackles, “I love it, so mysterious. Well, reach for the stars, girl, you could succeed at anything you wanted to. I swear to God, fuck NCAD, you don’t need them.”

“I’ll tell them you said that.”

“Five years and you’ll be on the cover of some artsy magazine, and we’ll all read it and be mad jealous of you.”

“Yeah, but don’t forget where you came from,” Simon grins. “You’re a Mezzotint girl first.”

Time moves slowly in the liminal space between finishing my internship and going back to college. It’s like wading through syrup, the same feeling at that strange, timeless week between Christmas and New Year’s Eve, and I wonder what I ever did with my free time when I had it before.

Jude stays over every night in order to save me from the strange terror of my empty apartment, as well as himself from the equally strange terror of his empty home now that his family have taken to the beach house for the last weeks of summer. I start to get a taste of what it might be like to actually live with him one day. He cooks every meal and I do all the laundry. It’s an easy rhythm we fall into, but besides those minor responsibilities we mostly lounge around pretending we’ve forgotten about our exercise regimes and fucking indiscriminately on every surface of the house. It’s fine, some day soon I’ll have a new housemate and we won’t be able to do this. We’re just taking advantage of the situation.

It’s comforting to turn around and see him there, watching TV while I read a book in the kitchen, shaving his face while I shower, cooking eggs in the morning with the radio playing when I come downstairs hungry.

“Wow, you’re perfect, aren’t you?” I say as I wrap my arms around his bare torso and plant a kiss between his shoulder blades.

“I’m just giving you a taste of the good life. Look at all you could have.”

I laugh and pinch a crispy rasher from the plate beside him, “Mm, yeah, the ‘if I drop out of college and move to another continent’ life.”

“All I keep saying is that you wouldn’t regret it.”

“Is that what this is all about, then?” I tease, “You’re on your best behaviour so that you can manipulate me, right? And then as soon as you have me in your dastardly clutches you’ll try to turn me into a Born-Again Christian wife who cooks and cleans and-”

“Yes,” he whirls around to circle my waist with one arm and kiss me, “That’s what I’m doing, I actually fucking hate cooking, this is just part of my plan to ensnare you.”

I gasp, “I can’t believe it, it’s all been a ruse! All of the sex and the sweet talk, you’re going to take it all away from me.”

He scoffs, “No, c’mon, not the sex, not even the evil version of myself would want to give that up.”

“I didn’t think so.”

“Now that you’ve brought it up, do you feel like it now?” He keeps one hand on the frying pan while he boldly slides the other down the back of my pyjama shorts, “I can hold the eggs for a few minutes.”

I laugh, “No, sorry, I need food now.”

He gasps, “Offended.”

“It’s Friday, remember?”

He nuzzles into my cheek and gently bites my earlobe, “No I’ve no clue what day it is anymore, they’ve all just blended together.”

“Well it is,” I grab his cheeks with one hand, “I have therapy at eleven.”

“Oh! I forgot, well, eat, quick,” He passes me a plate and starts loading it up with eggs and toast and then gives me a cup of black coffee that’s so strong that I have to assume he made it for himself before deciding I needed it first. “You should ask Helen what she thinks about Los Angeles,” he says.

“I assume she thinks what everyone else thinks: That it’s overpriced and a haven for violent crime.”

He snorts, “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I’ll talk to her about it. Maybe she’ll have something wise to say.”

“As is her job.”

I split the yolk of my egg thoughtfully, “Did the movie studio give you a time limit to make a decision about the internship?”

“I told them I needed to think it over, but, um,” he clears his throat, “ideally I’d be able to give them an answer by Monday, you know?”

“I know,” it’s a bit hard to swallow my food all of a sudden, “just, Monday is soon.”

“Yeah. I suppose I just don’t want them to risk taking the offer away.”

“And London?”

“Nothing again today, so I mean, unless they give me some crumbs early next week, I…” he trails off.

“I’ll see what Helen says,” I decide, and he cooks for himself while I finish my breakfast

Beginning // Prev // Next

#lucky girl part 3 #tw: sex

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anxiously-sidequesting · 1 year ago

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I keep thinking about that Schismist Soldier (because he's a meow meow) and in the possible event that we may never see him again I decided to add a PART THREE to his saga to eventually marry i mean defeat the Young Wizard once and for all. So buckle up for this messed up love/hate story.

We start off on his relaxing vacation that he promised everyone he would take after his second defeat at the hands of his One True Nemesis. He needed a break from his obsession i mean his career and all those thoughts about us isn't really good for him now is it??? So he's going to go to whatever the Wizard version is for Peru to take his mind off things! What fun!

But it doesn't work :((( because everything, EVERYTHING reminds him of The Young Wizard. The sheer AUDACITY to haunt his every waking moment, his thoughts and dreams when he was trying to FORGET you!!! He can't even relax when he's thinking about YOU all the time!!! Ugh!!!

So he just says "Alright fuck it I guess" and he decides (for the 80th time) that he's going to get rid of you PERMANENTLY this time, so that he could finally triumph over you and then be free! So he hatches up a plan, see? A genius plan, a plan that will SURELY cause you the most humiliation and agony possible!!!

He is going to enroll. In the very school that you started out as a fledgling. He will apply to study in your primary Magic School and he will quickly climb the ranks, proving to be a BETTER wizard than you ever were!! He'll RUIN your reputation amongst your peers using his dazzling intellect and unmatched skills, and then when the time is right he'll BEAT you at your own game, making you weep and cry in shame and fright before he FINALLY finishes you off!!! IT'S THE PERFECT CRIME!!!!

Que the Schismist Soldier learning the third rank spell of your primary magic school (Storm Shark in my case) and then he just cackles maniacally with crazed eyes before he fucks off into his dorm to bask in his future glory. The people that know him think he's funny and weird. He mutters our name over and over again at lunch and people just think he's a fan. He draws multiple pictures of us and furiously crosses them out with red ink and nobody gives a shit. Let him have his fun I guess

(I like to imagine that he doesn't even unmask himself when he goes undercover as a student of Ravenwood, he just straight up shows in his Schism armor and people think he's cosplaying as someone they've never heard of before. He truly is pathetic and I love him dearly for it)

#imagine the wizard was a necromancer so he trains under malorn #malorn is just like ''😐 so i have another duncan grimwater huh''#the schismist soldier would be the one that would make cyrus drake hate again #does he actually succeed in his plan to defeat us?? YOU decide! (no he doesnt)#unrelated but gotta stop switching between 'us' and 'you' and 'the young wizard' and just pick one LMAO its confusing #can you guys tell im in love with this guy. hes the lamest motherfucker ever and thats hot and attractive #i live for the 'villain is obsessed with hero but hero could care less' dynamic #hes like ''DO YOU REMEMBER ME!?!?'' like no we dont #(yes we do remember him because we could never forget him)#wizard101 #w101 #wiz101 #what the hell is his name how do i tag him? the schismist soldier? schismist soldier? okay fine #wizard101 schismist soldier #text post

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spotsupstuff · 1 year ago

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What is Sparrows daily routine?

i wanted to draw stuff for this but ough that's so much, so-

[a day is divided into 30 units of time (aka their "hours") instead of 24 like with us for the sake of a rounded number like that]

[05:40] - wake up through the mist of "ugh five more minutes", throw a middle finger to the alarm clock and start the process of becoming a conscious member of the society by running into the closet doors face first and dressing up, getting that "hair" contained...

[06:00] - make either breakfast or lunch. if breakfast is done, get some stretching exercises in before eating. if lunch is done, just get the exercises done. pack some cash, documents like an ID since ID drones aren't a thing yet, tools for today's planned workload, don't forget the annoying golden mask

[~06:45 - 07:00] - enter the restaurant/fast food place ya visit every day and get either breakfast or lunch for later, ignore the barista who somehow managed to develop a crush on ya, eat up if it's breakfast order, maybe take a walk around the town square

[08:00] - clock in for work at the Mechanic's main entrance into the Caper of Euros structure. make the way to the puppet chamber to check Euros' statistics, see if smth fucked up during the night that would need the help with getting fixed up and of course, tell him good morning. if he's on his puppet and scoops ya up, kiss him a good morning too

[08:15] - leave the chamber and the backpack with lunch behind (he'll look after it, probably strap it to the umbilical arm, maybe go through it - he's allowed to. one of these days she really needs to pack a little notebook, pencil and an eraser so he can have some fun with that) and start the shift. Mechanic's job mainly revolves around catching the mistakes that slipped by before an Iterator was turned on besides the maintance. so basically bringing them as close to perfection as possible. so she looks for lil fuck ups in the design + works on the ones already noted on the pearl she has from Euros' first Mechanic

[14:00 - 14:20] - lunch break!!! come back to the puppet chamber and sit with Euros while snacking. get to talk with him a little, catch up on what he's up to in his research and iterations, answer him in kind when he asks you about your day outside of him. "so how'd you sleep? any dreams? how was breakfast? is the barista still eyeing you? i still think you should go on a date with them and be absolutely obnoxiously out of character so they'd stop. oh! what about the town square? what did the kids play today?" "oh slow down, will you! i still have noodles left."

[14:20 - 20:45] - rest of the shift! the last hour or so is dedicated to mostly going around the sector she dedicated the day to and checking over her work and the Hivemind members. with the nature of her and Euros' relationship this often times results with the Inspectors yoinking her to play or cuddle with

[20:45 - 27:00] - free time! she Can be hailed by the Houses for updates on Euros' condition and to get her opinion on some changes they'd want to implement that would affect Euros during this time. she Hates these kind of meetings because she sucks at social interaction n everything, but if she has to defend her charge(/lover) against stupid ass ideas, she Will do her best. but generally this time is filled with hanging out with Euros properly as a friend or as a romantic partner, go out for beer or smth if she feels like it, calling her family to ask how they are doing once she gets home- ask if they need any money and such since the job pays INCREDIBLY well- strength and such exercises to keep in shape, read up on some additional info on Iterators that wasn't necessarily addressed back in school or some fictional stuff, play games (with Euros if he will be down or calls first), make dinner, watch a movie...

[~27:00 - 05:40] - sleeby time <3

#Spot says stuff #rw #oc tag #oc: three sparrows

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dracothedeatheatingcupcake-ao3 · 2 years ago

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I keep forgetting to post this, but luckily I remembered before the chapter was up too long! But this is a bit of a spoilery, explanation post I wrote up a week or so ago about my Bowuigi fic, Luigi and the Beast. If you’ve not read that fic, this post will make no sense, ha. Anyway, without any further ado…

Hey everyone!!! So, as part of my Bowuigi fic, Luigi and the Beast, there are some magical elements that may be confusing to the average reader. However, a lot of these elements will not be revealed in the story for quite some time, since it doesn’t make sense for Luigi (our POV character) to know any of this early on. However! I know that it can be frustrating for some people to read something and not know what is going on. So! I decided to write down my plans for how the magic curse on Bowser works, since it is very different than the curse in the original Beauty and the Beast.

HOWEVER!!! PLEASE NOTE THAT THIS WILL CONTAIN MAJOR, MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE FIC! IF YOU DO NOT LIKE SPOILERS AT ALL, PLEASE TURN BACK NOW!!

Now, no shame to those who want to read this! But I don’t want someone looking at this, thinking it’s like minor spoilers, and then getting upset when some major plot points get spoiled. Nothing in the actual plot gets spoiled here, but it will likely reduce some tension in some scenes, and it will make it easier to see where I’m going with some of my later choices in this fic. Which is part of why I’m writing this, since I know not knowing can be frustrating for some people! But I know that getting spoiled can be frustrating for others, so I just wanted to have a disclaimer, ha.

But now that you have all been warned… here’s the explanation of the curse put on Bowser and his castle. :-)

Right! So, I knew I did not want this to follow the original story in that Bowser is actually a ~~~beautiful human~~~ who got turned into a ~~~~horrible beast~~~~. Ugh. Belle needs to get with the times, beasts need love too!! Ha, I joke, but I really didn’t want to have that be the curse. But there has to be a curse for this AU to work, so I had to come up with something else.

As such, I came up with this. It honestly didn’t take me long to think of it, since it’s fairly simple:

Bowser is under house arrest.

Basically, a nebulous Star Person saw what Bowser was going to become and was like “yeah, that ain’t good,” and they decided to test Bowser to see if he was irredeemable or not. I won’t spoil the exact scene, since I may write about it, but basically… the Star Person deemed he was irredeemable. And so, they put a spell on the castle that trapped all current inhabitants and loyal followers of Bowser inside, including his children.

However, on top of being trapped in the castle, everyone outside of the castle completely forgot about Bowser. After all, what is the worst curse for a power hungry megalomaniac? Being absolutely forgotten. Anyone who interacted with Bowser regularly (like Peach’s father, the former King) just forgot what he looked like and was persuaded to not really think about him much or worry about him. Anyone who didn’t know him directly or only met him a few times (like Peach), however, completely forgot about him. All portraits and depictions of him were erased and no one has any memory of him at all.

This is why Toadsworth couldn’t tell that the drawing of Bowser was of Bowser. His memory of him was purposely blurred by the Star Person. The only reason Peach knew his description was because her father wrote about it, and the Star Person didn’t erase the description (mostly for Plot Purposes, but if you want an in universe reason, it’s because the Star Person didn’t want to erase the King’s private journals to Peach, possibly because they knew that it might lead to Bowser one day getting reformed. Honestly, it’s mainly for Plot Purposes, ha). It’s up to y’all if you want the same to have happened to everyone in the castle, since I’ve not really decided on that yet.

Oh! And the castle was disguised by the Star Person to make sure that no one tried to find Bowser unless they truly wanted to find him. This is why the castle looks so worn down and dilapidated and all, but it actually isn’t.

Finally, because this is Star Magic, it’s not something magikoopas can fix, to Bowser’s frustration. He’s spent ten years trying (and failing) to end the curse.

Speaking of ending the curse…

!!!!!!!!!THIS NEXT PART IS MAJOR SPOILERS AND WILL SPOIL LIKE… AT LEAST PART OF THE ENDING, SO READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!!!!!!!!!

Anyway… instead of the curse getting broken by someone falling in love with Bowser (since he is very much loved by his family, and he very much loves his family, and familial love is just as important as romantic love, thank you very much), the curse is broken when Bowser “makes the ultimate sacrifice for someone he loves.” It’s to prove that he can actually be willing to give up absolutely anything for someone else, proving that he is not irredeemable. And despite how much he loves his children, he never was able to make that ultimate sacrifice (which may or may not be what y’all are thinking, ha).

OH! I forgot to mention, but only Bowser (and Kamek, for reasons that get explained in the fic in roundabout ways) know about this. Everyone else in the castle was just told that a Star Person cursed them for "some reason," which they accepted as fact since they all trust Bowser. They don't know that Bowser was the cause, or that he technically holds the answer, since Bowser's pride prevents him from telling anyone.

Anyway, that’s it! I don’t want to go into too much more detail to prevent too many spoilers, but this is the basic magic curse behind the whole fic. No “Bowser was turned into a horrible monster!!!” Instead it’s more “Bowser was gonna be naughty and put into time out preemptively.”

Hope this makes sense! :-D

#Personal Post #Kinda #L&tB

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