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marycecilyy · 3 years

Note

Hey could you do headcanons for the mcl guys (or if not all of them castiel, armin, and kentin) when their S/O is a famous singer? Thank you❤

Oh god this turned out so longer than I expected huahahushaushu

First of all, these are too long to be headcanons, all three of them have more than 1k words each. Also, I changed a bit the prompt. It's more like "Candy has the dream of becoming a famous singer". The rest you'll see... I'll only say that I'm very proud of this one ;)

Castiel, Armin and Kentin with a Candy that wishes to be a famous singer

Castiel

Castiel wasn’t one to be friendly to new students, but he knew you weren’t like any other when you came to him and asked if Winged Skull was one of his favorite bands too. He was shocked to know that there was another person at Sweet Amoris who enjoyed the same bands as him. Yes, bands (in plural). After he answered that, yes, Winged Skull was his favorite band of all times, you started talking about your common interests and discovered that there were many.

He was a very closed off guy, but somehow you managed to break into his skull in a short time and, in a few months, you turned into best friends.

When Debrah came back and that whole situation happened, your fight with Castiel had a lot of impact over you. In your head, you had just lost your best friend forever. Fortunately. Lysander not only helped you recover from the blow and gave you energy to gather your friends and expose Debrah, but also helped you admit to yourself that, you did have feelings for Castiel.

Once she was unmasked and ran away like a coward, things quickly came back to normal. In less than one week, you had restored your reputation, your friends apologized for misjudging you, Castiel and you were once again friends. The only difference was that you knew that you were in love with him.

You didn’t tell him about your feelings right away, you decided to keep your friendship and focus a bit on your lifelong goal: become a music star. You started learning how to sing properly and doubled the days of your guitar lessons. Castiel even helped you get into the music club (they were full when you got into Sweet Amoris, but he found a way to enroll you).

You knew that your chances of actually becoming famous were pretty low, the market was difficult and depended a lot on having the right contacts. That was why, while you tried putting your name out there, your plan was to get a degree in music as soon as you finished high school. Antheros Academy offered a good education and was close, it was your best option.

As you channeled your energies towards your goal, Castiel started to acknowledge his own sentiment towards you. He liked to watch your focused face as you tuned your guitar and your singing voice earned a sweet accent all of the sudden. He always considered you a special girl, but, to his surprise, feelings were starting to develop inside his closed off chest.

That was why, as soon as he won those concert tickets on a raffle, he knew he’d take you there as your first date. Luckily for him, you accepted right away. Castiel had a feeling that night would be something else.

And it really was, as he kissed you, without even thinking it through, when the vocalist sung what he knew was your favorite tune. When you kissed him back, he wrapped his hands over your waist and lifted you up, feeling your warm lips open up for him.

The months that followed were full of bliss. With you and Castiel officially dating, the school had a lot to talk about. Amber pestered you quite a bunch of times, but that didn’t mess with your relationship at all. Everything was perfect, as it was supposed to be.

But that didn’t last long. Right after you finished high school, your dad had to move to another town because of his job and you had no choice but to go too. You were sure that your relationship would survive the distance, after all, you were in love. This situation would be worked out.

Castiel came to your new house a couple of times and you two called frequently, but in the end distance started to grow between the both of you… and it hurt. Knowing that Castiel was sad made you miserable and you decided to break up before it became unbearable.

You lost your count of how many nights you cried thinking about him.

4 years later.

You were zipping your jeans up when you heard a knock on your dressing room’s door. Who could it be? Your parents had already congratulated you over the phone, there was no one supposed to come that night. Did your manager schedule a press interview for after the show?

You put on your shirt and told whoever was on the other side to wait. When you finally opened the door, your jaw almost fell. You couldn’t believe he was there.

He looked exactly like in the magazines, (a bit less photoshopped, but that was to expect. You went through that as well and it sucked). His hair was shoulder-length and he wore a black shirt that showed off the tattoos up to the middle of his arm. He wore some light makeup, most on his skin, which you deduced his manager made him put on. Castiel looked like you expected him to after all those years, but one thing about him surprised you.

His eyes, although more mature and serious, had the same brightness as before.

"Are ya going to keep staring like that?” He asked and you noticed you had just been looking at him for a solid minute.

“Sorry. Come in.” You said and made space for him to enter the room. For your luck, there was nothing private to be seen, you had the habit of leaving your clothes and personal belongings messy and only cleaning up the second you had to go.

Castiel cleared his throat. An awkward silence hung between you. You hadn’t been alone with each other ever since the breakup. You two were two of the biggest stars of nowadays rock music, but you barely had any opportunity to talk. Not that you haven’t tried, it was the opposite. You avoided contact. Your fans knew you had dated in high school (you used to have pictures on your personal instagrams and fans were quick to dig over old accounts to find information about their idols), so they never expected a feat or any kind of collab. Everyone knew that you weren’t on best terms.

You remembered just a couple of days ago, when you were interviewed for one of those talk shows. The host made a lot of personal questions about Castiel and even asked if you would get back with him if you had the chance. You tried to avoid answering, but the public instantly read your unconscious signs: yes, you would.

That was why, you assumed, he was there. To make things clear. After all, because of you yours and his fans started shipping you two and got you on twitter’s trending topics. He probably was pissed. There was also a possibility of him wanting to take advantage of the situation, maybe propose a fake relationship? No, that wasn’t like him. Or was it? You barely knew him anymore.

“So… you probably guessed why I’m here. I saw your interview” You were right, then. “And I want to make things clear.” Ouch. You should prepare for the blow. “Look, we both know time has passed and we’re not the same as before. You broke up to avoid more suffering, and I get that. I really do.”

Castiel crossed his arms and glared at you. You looked back at him with fear, fear of knowing what his next words would be. “But...?” You asked.

“Tsk.” He huffed. This would be more difficult than he thought. “Look, little girl…” You felt a shiver run through your spine at the sound of the old nickname he gave you. You had always loved it, even though you didn’t say it out loud. After what felt like hours, he continued. “I don’t want to be cheesy, that’s not like me. So I’ll just say that if what all of the fans are theorizing is true.... If you do want to try again....”

Castiel took your hand and you jumped in surprise. He turned your palm to him and grabbed a pen from his back pocket. He wrote down a phone number on your hand and let go of it, capped the pen and turned around to go.

"That's my personal number. It’s pretty useful if you wanna call me without having to schedule an appointment with my manager.” You managed to laugh. You knew exactly how these things were annoying.

Inside, you were bursting with excitement. However, you answered playfully “Hm…. I’ll think about it, mr. Rockstar” Castiel chuckled and excused himself, saying that his manager would get pissed at him if he took too long. You smiled.

Maybe it was not over, after all.

Armin

When you told Armin, very early on your friendship, that your dream was to become a famous singer, he got so excited for you. He already knew that you played the guitar and was good at singing, but he had no idea that you wanted to make this your career path.

You couldn’t have chosen a better partner. Being the tech nerd that Armin was, he helped you a lot in recording your covers with the best quality possible considering the amateur camera and microphone you had.

However, the times that his presence most comforted you was when you showed him your new songs. He was always eager to see your composing progress and gave you pure honesty in his feedback, keeping in mind that he was no expert but still wanted to help you.

You always asked him for a way to return his favors, but he always said that it was his duty as your best friend to support you and that it was more than enough having you to talk about all his geek interests.

As time passed, you started to notice that you liked him way more as a friend. Without an idea of what to do, you asked Rosa and Alexy for advice. They were your closest friends apart from your crush (and you couldn’t run to him in that situation, duh)

After a dozen pro tips and date ideas from them, you decided to take Armin to the movies (basic, you knew, but couldn’t go wrong).

When you asked him if he was available Saturday night, you didn’t say properly “Hey, we’re going on a date”. Actually, you didn’t mention the word “date” at all, hoping that he would read between the lines.

And he did, because as soon as you sat and the film started, Armin grabbed your hand that was resting in the armrest and entwined your fingers. You couldn’t pay attention to what was going on screen at all and your attention was completely drawn from the movie when the boy grabbed your chin and brought your lips to his.

You only stopped kissing when the lights went on and the credits started scrolling.

“Hey…” You asked as soon as you two left the place, holding hands with him. “What was the movie about again?”

Armin laughed out loud. He teased you about it a lot before you made him confess that he didn’t know either.

A few days later, it was him who asked you out. You kept going on dates for the next week, all of them simple but interesting at the same time. However, you two weren’t dating. The whole school knew there was something going on between you two by the chuckles and timid kisses when you thought nobody saw them, but you didn’t make things official… yet. But that was about to change.

It was friday and you invited Armin over to “study” (he was sure that the afternoon would be spent between videogames and kisses, but if you wanted to call it a study session, it was okay for him).

As he comfortably sat on your bed as if it were his own, you told him to wait as you brought him some juice. When you came back, he was already grabbing his nintendo switch from his bag.

“What makes you think that we’re here to game?” You teased, handing him the glass.

“Come on, Candy, we both know that none of us are interested in learning orbital hybridization…”

“Maybe I am. I really need a good grade on those tests.” You approached him and held his jaw up so your foreheads touched. With a trailed voice, you continued. “Unless you have something more interesting to do in mind...”

Armin opened up that playful smile of his. “Oh, I do, actually.” In a quick movement that caught you off guard, he threw you in bed and started pampering you with kisses all over your face. You couldn’t stop laughing from how his hands tickled your belly, but you managed to stop him. “W-Wait, Armin!”

He looked at you, confused. “What?”

As you caught your breath, you explained that there was something you wanted to show him first. You got off the bed and went to grab your guitar that was hung up on the free wall of your bedroom.

“Did you compose a new song?” Armin deducted as you sat in front of him again, this time with your guitar in hands.

“You’ll see.” You tuned your instrument under his curious gaze. When you felt satisfied with the sound, you looked back at him. Armin didn’t miss the blush that coloured your cheeks. “I know you’d never do it, but I have to ask even so: promise you won’t laugh.”

You started playing the first chords of the song you had finished composing just a few days before. Usually, you composed simple songs that anyone could identify with, songs about friendship, inspiration, changing the world. You never wrote about your personal feelings. The notes never made you cry.

This song was special, though, because it was about him.

The day it hit you that you had feelings for him, you had the idea of writing random verses that could one day fit into a new song. After your first date, you felt so overwhelmed that, looking at the words, you decided to turn them into a song. You didn’t think it would turn into something so personal and emotional. Every note, every word, everything was clearly about him, that dorky geek you had fallen in love with.

Falling deeper every time

I can’t help but think, oh my

I’m through, but I don’t mind

Would you trade you 2D girls

For this hopeless lover

That just wants your heart?

I’ll just say that he got the message very clearly and, as soon as you finished playing, he practically jumped on you, kissing your lips with such tenderness that you almost teared up.

Of course, he asked you to be his girlfriend XD

Kentin

The first time he heard about your dream, he was still little Ken. It was one of your first days at Sweet Amoris and you two were eating cookies in the staircase. You were ranting about how sad you were that the music club was already full and you couldn’t join. Ken asked you the reason why you were so upset.

“Well… There weren’t those kind of classes in our old school. Learning how to play an instrument and sing, even during extra classes would be so cool! If I went well, maybe I’d be able to convince my dad to pay me for some private classes and then I’d be one step closer to my dream!”

“Your dream?” Ken muttered.

“Yeah! I want to become a famous singer in the future! I know that it’s impossible and even kinda silly, but-”

“No, Candy! It’s not silly at all!” Ken said. Learning more about you made him happy and he didn’t want you to think for even a second that your dream was worthless. “You shouldn't be ashamed of dreaming big. You’ll have a long, difficult path to walk through, but when you get there - and you have my word on that - I’ll be cheering for you!”

“Ken... “ You flashed your best smile at him. It meant a lot to you to have his support, he was a kind person and a very good friend (he did cross a few limits with his adoration for you, but you weren’t bothered by it). You liked being around him a lot.

-x-

“Kentin!” You threw yourself in his arms and gave him a tender kiss. “Good morning.”

Your boyfriend chuckled and held your hand, walking with you through the hallway. You talked about how your weekend had been and, between light smiles and sweet kisses, you thought of how quickly things changed between you two.

When he came back from military school, a lot of things had changed in him, including his nickname. You were facing a new person and it had been a challenge discovering Kentin and building a new relationship with him.

Even though he was a different person from before, one thing didn’t change at all and you noticed it clearly: he still liked you. Obviously he was no longer that guy who professed his feelings to everyone and followed you everywhere, he had found new ways to show you his love. You enjoyed that more mature version of him, but wished he had the opportunity to grow into a man without all the trauma he went through. You knew that most of his growth had been through suffering, and that upset you.

You didn’t know when, but somewhere into your friendship you started to grow feelings for him too. After some coaxing from Rosa and Alexy, you managed to ask him out on an official date.

The whole school already knew that Kentin was head over heels for you, but everyone was shocked to know that you loved him back as your relationship became official.

“Hey, love.”

“What?” You asked your boyfriend back as soon as you got in front of your lockers. You started looking for your books, checking that day’s classes.

“I really liked that video you posted on youtube yesterday. I never heard that song before, did you compose it yourself?”

The book you held in your hand fell to the ground. “What video?” You whispered, eyes wide.

“What do you mean, babe? That video of you singing and playing the guitar. You uploaded it yesterday night. I saw right away, you know I have my notifications turned on to all your videos. I got surprised that you decided to finally show your face and sing something of your own and- Candy? Is everything okay?”

Kentin noticed your face and got worried for you. You looked absolutely terrified.

“That video… How did you see it? I posted it as private”

“No, you didn't. It was public.” Kentin was starting to understand why you were so surprised. He put one hand on your back as you blushed and hid your face on his chest in embarrassment.

“Oh god, I can’t believe I did that! I’m so stupid! The first time I record something like that, I accidentally post it for everyone to see! Dumb, dumb Candy! Dang, now everyone’s gonna know I’m bad!”

“First of all.” Your boyfriend frowned, bringing you close to him. “You’re not dumb, you just made a mistake. And it’s okay, probably just a few people saw it. Last time I checked was before I went to sleep and it only had 20 views. But why are you so upset, Candy? Didn’t you tell me a few days ago that you were finally ready to show your face along with the covers. Did something happen to change your mind?”

“Well, I was not ready to show right away, especially not in a video that I looked terrible in. And it’s not just that. It was my first original song. I never showed it to anyone, what if it sucks?”

Kentin held your chin up and looked you in the eyes. “Candy, it doesn’t suck and you look great in the video!” You closed your eyes and snuggled close to him. “But I understand your concerns. Luckily, that can be solved if you delete the video. You’ll have other opportunities to get famous, and with better videos.”

“Yeah, I can do that.” You reached for your phone and went to your youtube page. “Fu... No way…!”

Your hands trembled. Kentin was right, the video had few views (which was good). Only 50 people had seen it, but the problem wasn’t that. For your bad luck, one of those people had been Amber. You knew that because she had left three comments on your video.

AmberOfficial: lmaooooo

AmberOfficial: Thank you for the laughs. That’s hilarious

AmberOfficial: Just give up already, looser

“That girl....” Kentin grunted, looking at your phone screen. “I swear to you, Candy, I’ll make her regret this. I’ll-”

“You don’t need to, I’m fine.”

You untangled your arms from his torso and started walking away, trying your best to hide how upset you really were. Amber was right, your music sucked. You should give up on your dream of becoming a famous singer, not only because you were bad, but also because you could barely show your face to a few people without feeling like shit. You wouldn’t be able to deal with fame.

Kentin tried to call you, but you didn’t answer. He figured you needed some time alone. He could use that time to think of something to support you and get back at Amber.

-x-

You walked out of the bathroom, your eyes red and swollen from crying. You had already deleted the video, but you couldn’t stop feeling stupid for getting so upset by a few bad comments. And feeling stupid made you even more upset.

When you got to the hallway, it was empty due to classes having already started. You probably spent half an hour locked up, but at least no one would mess with you.

You went to the garden to get some fresh air and wait until the next class started. You sat at the bench, breathed in and finally calmed down a bit.

“Candy.”

You turned around, surprised to see your boyfriend. “Kentin! What are you doing here? Classes have already started.”

He just waved his hand in a “don’t worry about that” way and sat beside you. He kissed your cheek and took your hand, checking how you were. Seeing that you seemed to be more calm, he smiled lightly at you. “So… I talked to Armin. He already found out Amber’s password and he’ll hack into Amber’s youtube account. He’ll just mess with it for a bit, delete some videos and upload some random stuff. Nothing too bad, I promise, just some memes and rickrolls.”

“Hmm…” You muttered, thinking about what he said. It wasn’t right, for sure, but you didn’t feel like stopping them. You were still hurt. “Okay. Just promise you two won’t do something serious, okay?”

He agreed. You felt a bit better, but that wasn’t enough to lift your mood and Kentin knew that. That was why he also had something else prepared. "That 's not all. I did some quick search for places where you could record that music of yours with its deserved quality. You are a good composer, Candy, believe it. Your talent doesn’t have to stay hidden in a dark room with only you, a guitar and your cellphone recording it.”

“Kentin…”

“If you want to, I’ll help you rent a studio and record your song. That would be very useful for your portfolio. I know that’s expensive, but we can find ways to-” You cut him off with a kiss. He cared about you so much, to the point of skipping classes to think of ways to make you feel better. You loved your boyfriend so much…

Lucky. You felt lucky to have him.

“I love you. Thank you for taking care of me... “ You kissed his cheek, happy to have his support. That was more than enough at that moment, Amber’s words were far behind you. All that mattered was that you could go through this.

You had Kentin, and when you had him, you had your whole world holding you so you wouldn’t fall.

#my candy love #mcl headcanon #mcl hcs #my candy love headcanons #mcl writing #writing #my writing #my candy love writing #castiel #my candy love castiel #mcl castiel #mcl armin #mcl kentin #my candy love kentin #fluff #mcl #2nd person pov #headcanons #hcs

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farfarawaygirl · 3 years

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Wow! Now there’s a thought I hadn’t considered! Tim having to be the one to send Lucy into a tricky/dangerous situation or having to stay behind. First of all, she’d absolutely jump in front of him in the case of any threat but imagine Tim has to be on site to supervise a scenario and she has to be the one to go in? And he’s just left behind waiting. Imagine the internal anguish if she did get hurt protecting him as his aide? I hope someone explores this in the show or in fic bc ~possibilities~

What is the point of having two way radios, if not to have one half of Chenford waiting on tenterhooks while the other is in mortal peril?

In 4x02 when Grey spoke about Tim having to be the one to stand back and find the bigger picture sometimes as a Sergeant, my first thought was if the writers would be brave/crazy enough to actually go there?

We’ve seen both Tim and Lucy in dangerous situations before, both together and separately, but we have haven’t had the specific down a radio channel listening to your partner who is your partner in danger situation. It is almost as good as opposites sides of a door…

I would love to see the complexity play out of Tim being to one calling the shots, but him sending Lucy in to do the work. Tim implicitly trust Lucy. He knows she is capable and good at her job, and not just because he trained her. Lucy trusts Tim to have her back, so she would just jump right over the edge if she knew he was the one calling the shots.

I have the vague idea of a fic, where our favourite two are chasing down a suspect, or evading a gunman, and they step into an elevator for safety. They only have the privacy and reprieve of four flights, but it is just enough time for Tim to reach out and pull Lucy flush against him, their foreheads touch. In the space between floors and heartbeats they find a half moment of peace, before they’re moving apart and preparing to face whatever is on the other side.

#chenford #tim bradford #lucy chen #the rookie #emma shouts into the void

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dottielovegood · 3 years

Text

ASMR - chapter 3

Elriel fanfiction

About this fic:

Azriel can’t sleep Elain has an ASMR channel Match made in heaven (or you know, on youtube..)

_______________________________________

You can find chapter 1 here and chapter 2 here Read this fic on AO3

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Chapter 3

Luckily for Azriel, the next day was a Saturday, which meant that he didn’t have to go to work. The only plan he had that day was his gym appointment at 7.00 in the morning, just like every other day. Cassian and Rhys often gave him shit for going to the gym that early in the morning on weekends, but they had partners to enjoy the days with. Azriel did not, which meant that working out was a good way to pass time. Especially for someone like Azriel who didn’t sleep and seemed to have more hours to his days than most regular people did.

However, today he woke up to the sun shining in through his window. He picked up his phone to check the time and was surprised to see that it said 9.23. He never slept that late. And he never slept that well.

She made me miss my gym appointment, Azriel thought to himself and couldn’t help but smile. And then it hit him. It was 9.23. That meant that Flower Girl ASMR would call him in exactly 37 minutes, and he hadn’t even had coffee yet. Azriel quickly got out of bed and hurried to the kitchen. While the coffee was brewing he jumped into the shower. He didn’t know why, but it felt wrong to be on the phone with her without having a shower first. Just like it would feel wrong to show up to a date without showering.

This is not a date, he told himself as he tied the towel around his hips and walked back into his kitchen. Azriel lived in a studio apartment, which meant that his ‘kitchen’ was actually a corner of his living room/bedroom. It was quite big for a studio apartment and he could easily fit his bed, a big sectional, and a dining room table in the room. There were exposed bricks on one wall which gave it a rustic feeling, and the white sleek details everywhere else made it feel modern and minimalistic - just like Azriel preferred.

Azriel leaned against his counter and sipped his coffee. He glanced at the clock on the wall which told him that he had 15 minutes left before the phone call. His hands were sweating. Was it because the coffee was so warm? Azriel tried to tell himself that the coffee was the reason for his warm hands, but it was more difficult to find an explanation for the butterflies in his stomach.

He was nervous. Not because of what they were going to talk about - he could probably guide someone through this in his sleep. But because she made him nervous. It’s one thing to see someone in a video and talk via DMs and an entirely different thing to facetime that person. What if she thought that he was ugly?

As the thought entered his mind, he shook his head as if trying to shake the thought away. Why did he care? He was just helping her with a problem. It didn’t matter if she found him ugly because this was a one-time thing. He would never see her again.

The butterflies turned into a tight knot in his stomach.

Azriel let out a low groan and went to his wardrobe to get dressed. He put on a black T-shirt and black jeans - his standard uniform. He dried his hair hastily with the towel before throwing it in the hamper.

At 10.00 on the dot, Azriel’s phone started ringing on the kitchen island. Or vibrating actually, since he always kept the sound off.

Unknown number is calling

Azriel stared at his phone, suddenly feeling very shy and questioning everything he knew about computers. He checked his reflection in the microwave and let out a deep breath before answering.

“Hello, this is Azriel.” His voice was hoarse, sounding deeper than usual.

“Oh, hi!” A cheery voice said and he was a bit taken aback. In his stupid brain, he had imagined her answering in her whispering voice. “Is this… is this Shadowsinger?”

Azriel decided that her normal voice was just as wonderful as her whispering voice.

“Yeah, this is Shadowsinger. Or well, that’s not my name. I’m obviously not called that. That would be weird…” Azriel babbled, growing more and more self-conscious by the second. He took a deep breath. “I’m Azriel.”

“Hi, Azriel. I’m Elain.” He could hear the smile in her voice and it made him think of sunshine and flowers.

Elain. The name suited her. It was a welsh name that meant fawn. Or at least that’s what Feyre told him one night when she had spent three hours going over possible baby names with their entire friend group (After three hours, Azriel, Cassian, Mor and Nesta had been very drunk and started suggesting weird names from TV such as Khaleesi, Anakin and Buffy which led to Rhys kicking them out.) But Elain wasn’t a weird name. It was pretty. Just like the person that the name belonged to.

“Hello, Elain,” Azriel said quickly when he realized that he had been quiet for a short while.

“Azriel is… an interesting name.” He couldn’t tell from her tone if it was good interesting or bad interesting.

He chuckled. “Yeah, try growing up with the nickname ‘Ass’ in school. Not Az. Ass.”

He could hear Elain laugh and it warmed his heart. “Oh no,” she giggled.

There was a stretch of silence then, both of them unsure of how to begin this.

“So...” Elain started after a few moments. “How do I block words on Youtube, Azriel?”

As soon as the words traveled through the phone, he wanted to ask her to say his name again, but that would be weird. So instead he cleared his throat and got himself into work mode.

“Well, I didn’t know if you were a visual learner, but I created a Youtube account yesterday so I could show you what to do, and you could just follow along if you like?”

God, was he doing too much? Would she find this creepy? Maybe he should just tell her what to do without video.

But to his surprise, Elain did not sound creeped out. “Really? That would be so helpful! How...How can I see your screen though?”

Azriel huffed a laugh. It was kind of cute that she was so oblivious when it came to technology even though she had 250k followers on Youtube.”Well, we’ll change to FaceTime and I will be able to flip the screen and just show you what I’m doing. Is that okay with you?”

He was met with silence.

“Elain?”

“Oh, sorry. I was nodding,” she laughed. “Yes, that’s fine.”

Azriel clicked the icon for FaceTime on his screen and within seconds, her face filled his screen. Her brown hair was in a high ponytail and she wore a mint green hoodie. She wasn’t wearing any makeup and Azriel had to catch his breath. God, why did she have to be so beautiful? He realized that he was staring at her through the screen but his brain wouldn’t form words.

“Hi,” Elain smiled, her cheeks turning pink. “I kind of forgot that we would see each other and not just a screen. Sorry that I look like a mess. I’m going to the gym after this...” She gestured to her hair and Azriel had no idea what mess she was referring to.

“What? You look wonderful,” he said and as soon as the words registered in his brain he wished to be swallowed up by a hole in the ground. He winced. “I mean... I just–” he was making it worse. Lovely. “I just meant that you don’t look like a mess.”

She gave him the sweetest smile. “Well, You don’t look too bad yourself.” She was blushing even more now. Was he blushing too? He had never blushed in his life, so he didn’t even know what that would feel like, but he did feel a bit hot.

Azriel cleared his throat. “So,” he started. “I’m going to flip my screen and film my laptop now. Tell me if you can see what I’m doing.”

“Okay!”

Azriel logged into Youtube and held his phone in front of the screen. “Can you see?” He held the phone in front of his computer, and even though she couldn’t see him anymore, he could still see her.

“Just a second,” she said and held up a finger. She was moving and so was her camera. When she reappeared, Azriel was very happy that she couldn’t see him. She was wearing glasses and they made her, if possible, even more attractive. Her beautiful golden eyes looked even bigger. Like a fawn, Azriel thought to himself.

“Yes, I can see when you have the phone so close to the screen,” she answered.

“Okay, good. Are you near your own computer?”

“Yes! And I’m already logged into my Youtube account.”

Azriel nodded, even though she couldn’t see him. “Great. Then you should see your profile picture here in the corner.” He showed her where to look.

“Mhm, I see it.”

She was focusing so hard on the screen, she had probably forgotten that he could see her. She was leaning in close enough for Azriel to see her freckles.

I want to kiss every single freckle on her body.

The thought entered his brain before he could even react and he was very happy that she wasn’t a mind reader. He tried to ignore her face on his screen and focus on his task.

“You will click the photo, and that should display a menu,” he explained. “Like this. You are going to click ‘Youtube Studio’ here.”

Elain scrunched up her nose in concentration and Azriel thought that he might die from the cuteness.

“Done! What next?”

“Okay, then you click ‘Settings’ at the bottom here,” he showed her where to look. “And then you choose ‘Community’”

“Community?” She asked and bit her lip.

Azriel wanted to bite that lip too.

“Yeah,” he answered, happy that he didn’t have to come up with more advanced words.

“And then you scroll down to ‘blocked words’ here,” he instructed. “Are you there?”

“Yes, I found it,” she answered with a smile.

“Well, aren’t you a gold star student?” Azriel joked and Elain’s face went from smiling to blushing in a nano-second.

“Thank you,” she mumbled.

There was a beat of silence again. Azriel wanted to kick himself.

“What now?” Elain asked in a low voice, still determined to get this over with.

“Well, now you just fill in the words you want to block. Make sure that you separate each word or phrase with a comma. And then you just press save and that’s it.”

“Oh, okay. That was easier than I imagined.”

Silence again.

“Can you manage from here?”

Elain bit her lip again. She was staring somewhere behind her phone; probably at her computer. “Ehm, I’m not sure what words to block.”

Azriel thought back to the awful comments he had seen and could think of a handful of words.

“Well, just block the words that these commenters often use, and maybe block bad words in general? You can review your comments later, so if nice comments are being filtered, you can choose to restore them while deleting the bad ones.”

Elain nodded and Azriel didn’t know if he should hang up or stay. So he stayed. His camera was still facing his computer, and Elain was still filming herself. She looked lost in thought.

“Are you okay, Elain?” Azriel asked cautiously, afraid to startle her.

“Hmm?” She looked straight at the camera now, eyes still glossy.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just… tired. I really like doing ASMR, but this sucks. I just want to make people happy and spread positivity, you know? And still, I have to deal with this.”

“Yeah, that must suck.”

Azriel had a question that he had been burning to ask, but he didn’t know if it was too personal. However, as he told himself before, they were never going to see each other again. He could always ask, and the worst thing he could get was a ‘no, I don’t want to talk about it’.

So he asked.

“Elain, can I ask you something?”

She nodded absentmindedly.

“Yesterday you wrote that you had blocked those trolls multiple times. Are you certain that they’re the same people?”

She nodded again. “Yes. In the beginning, they were a bit more creative with the usernames which threw me for a loop. But I realized that it was the same IP addresses every single time, so yeah. I know. I mean, I get hate from complete strangers too, but these people are a bit more persistent .” The last word was spoken through her teeth. She looked upset, but she also looked like she wanted to hide it. Azriel decided to switch his camera back to his face so she wouldn’t feel as vulnerable. And so he wouldn’t feel like a creep for staring at her.

Elain looked a bit startled. “Oh, hi again,” she smiled, but it wasn’t as genuine anymore.

“Do you know these people?” Azriel asked through gritted teeth. He didn’t know why, but he felt very protective all of a sudden.

“Yes, I do. At least the three people that commented yesterday…” she bit her lip again, probably contemplating if she should tell him more. “It’s my ex.”

Azriel tried his hardest to not look surprised and pissed off at the same time. “All three of them?”

With a surprised look on her face, she shook her head quickly. “Oh, god no. No. Just one. His name is Graysen.”

MortalGraysen. Azriel remembered the username because it had sounded so stupid.

“And the other two?”

She let out a long breath. “His stupid best friends, Amarantha and Hybern. Stupid names, right?”

Azriel could only agree. “Very. Why is he bothering you like this, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Elain took off her glasses and massaged her temple lightly. “I dumped him after he slept with Amarantha and then…” she chewed the inside of her cheek. “Then he told all of our friends that he only slept with her because I was so boring in…'' her cheeks flushed again and she didn’t finish that sentence. She didn’t have to. Azriel understood perfectly.

“Okay, so he really is an asshole then.”

“The biggest.”

“Well, I don’t think you can block IP addresses on Youtube, but you could always try to block their names. It might work for a while at least?” Azriel suggested. He needed to help her.

“That’s smart!” she exclaimed and sat her phone down to type. He was very happy that she had leaned it against something so he could still see her.

“What other words should I add?”

Azriel thought back to the comments he had seen. Boobs, nudes, cock, jerk off and tits were all words that she should block, but they were also words he didn’t feel like saying in front of her.

“Just check their old comments and block the words they have used.”

“I’ve deleted the comments, but I remember a few words.” She typed again and Azriel could tell that she was uncomfortable.

“Hey, just block all sexual words and maybe swear words? That should probably work for a while?”

“Okay.” She typed again while Azriel waited patiently. Honestly, he would probably wait forever if it meant that he could watch her on his screen like this.

He felt like a teenager with a crush on the coolest girl in school. He knew that she was out of his league, but his body had not gotten the memo…

“I think I’m done,” she announced and smiled at her phone. At him.

Azriel smiled back. “Which words did you write?” he asked out of curiosity.

Elain picked up her phone and switched the camera so he could see her computer. In the box for ‘blocked words’ she had indeed written a few words.

Blocked words Graysen, Hybern, Amarantha, Boring, Dumb, Stupid, Weird, Ugly, Penis, Vagina, Sex, Sexy, Breasts, Feet, Ejaculation, Nipple, Damn, Fuck, Darn it, Hell,

“Do you think that’s enough?” She asked him in a low voice as if she was ashamed of what she was showing him.

Azriel had to bite his lip in order to keep himself from grinning. It was kind of sweet that she had written down the more technical terms, and not any words that would actually be used on the internet.

“Well, I think it’s a good start,” Azriel answered. “But I think there are a few more words that you should add. And maybe some you can remove from the list.”

“Which ones can I remove?” She leaned closer to her computer, probably trying to find the redundant words.

“I don’t think that trolls will use Darn it, for example.”

Elain pressed the backspace key a few times.

“And which words should I add?” she asked the screen. Her glasses had slid down her nose a bit and Azriel had an urge to reach through the screen and push them back into place.

Azriel scratched his chin, thinking about the best way to phrase it. “Maybe a few synonyms for the words you have written down?”

“Such as?”

Azriel held his breath. “Well…” Azriel hesitated. Was she serious or was she just trying to get him to say dirty words? “I don’t think that internet trolls will use the word vagina.”

“Oh,” her ears turned a lovely pink color. “So I should just add synonyms for that word then?”

“Sure.”

Elain looked lost in thought for a moment before typing again, this time a bit more aggressively. “There are quite a lot,” she muttered.

“Really?” Azriel could only think of two; pussy and cunt.

“Yes. I googled it.”

Of course, she googled a list of synonyms for vagina. Azriel couldn’t hold back his grin this time. She gave him a look he couldn’t decipher. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh, nothing,” he said, still grinning. “Can you read me this list of synonyms?” he teased, thinking that she would tell him to fuck off.

He was wrong.

“Well, there’s pussy, cunt, vajayjay, punani, ho-ha, flower…” she drifted off and Azriel could tell the exact moment it hit her that she was reading these words to a man she didn’t know. “Oh, god,” she groaned and hid her face in her hand. “Please ignore everything that just happened.”

Azriel chuckled. “I rather not. What’s the weirdest word on the list?”

He was invested now.

Elain looked at him through the screen again, but this time he could tell that she was suppressing a smile. “The weirdest one must be fish taco, or bald man in a boat. One just sounds disgusting, and the other one is just… weird? Like, I don’t get it.”

“I think that the ‘bald man’ is supposed to be the...uh,” Azriel could not finish that sentence. He knew that he was blushing now, too.

“Oh,” she said looking surprised, and then disgusted. “Oh, that just makes it worse.”

The laugh that followed was contagious.

As she laughed, Azriel thought back to the day before. To when he had watched her video to fall asleep. In her videos, she was so calm and collected - the complete opposite from this bubbly, laughing person on his screen. Both sides of her were equally fascinating to Azriel and he wished that he could get to know her better. She was so easy to talk to. Azriel never found anyone easy to talk to. At parties, you could find him in the corner with a drink and a good book. He was not a talkative man. But with Elain, he wanted to talk. And he wanted to listen. He wanted her to tell him about her day and her life, which was absurd. They had been talking for like 30 minutes. They didn’t know each other. They would never get to know each other.

“Thank you for helping me with this, Azriel,” Elain said when the laughter had died down. “I really appreciate it. I’m sorry for being a bit weird and reading you that list. I hope that I didn’t cross a line or…”

Azriel held up a hand to show her that he didn’t mind. “It’s no problem, honestly. I can’t remember the last time I laughed this much.”

Elain shifted in her seat and picked up her phone again, moving it closer to her face again. “Just like you couldn’t remember the last time you had slept well?”

For a second, Azriel was truly afraid that she was a mind reader because that meant that she had heard him think that he wanted to kiss all her freckles. And then, he remembered the comment he had left on her video a few days earlier.

“Yeah, just like that.”

She leaned her head to the side and regarded him through the phone. “Is that true? You can’t remember having a good night’s sleep?”

Azriel shook his head. “I have suffered from insomnia since I was a child. Sleep has never been a positive experience for me.”

He had never opened up like this to anyone. His former girlfriend never understood why he was awake and why he hated sleepovers. The insomnia had definitely destroyed a few relationships over the years. He could tell that Elain wanted to ask about it, but she didn’t. He really appreciated that.

“Well, I’m happy that I can help you with that anyway. It makes me feel less horrible for making you help me with this on a Saturday morning,” she said and gestured to her computer.

“You didn’t make me do anything. I offered. I was happy to help.”

She gave him the sweetest smile yet and Azriel was surprised when he didn’t melt into a puddle. “Well, thank you. Can I pay you for your trouble?”

Before she had even finished the sentence Azriel shook his head. “No, Elain. I really don’t want you to pay me.”

“Okay,” she bit one side of her lip again. Those damn lips. “Can I give you something else then?”

Did her tone sound flirty? Azriel didn’t know. He might just be hopeful because he started imagining all kinds of things she could give him.

“Like, maybe you could tell me your favorite trigger and I’ll make sure that my next video includes it?”

Azriel swallowed, his throat suddenly feeling very thick. “You don’t have to do that, I...”

“But I want to,” she interrupted. “What’s your favorite trigger?”

Azriel was trying to figure out a way to tell her that she was his favorite trigger without sounding like a serial killer. “Well, I don’t really know. I like when you whisper,” he tried, and when she smiled and nodded encouragingly, he continued. “Honestly Elain, I have tried to watch other ASMR videos but they don’t make me fall asleep. Your videos make me fall asleep within minutes. Whatever magic you put into your videos, that’s probably my trigger,” he half-joked.

“Hmm,” Elain regarded him. “I’ll figure something out.” She winked at him teasingly and Azriel hated that this was the first and last time he would ever get to talk to her.

“Well, I really have to go,” Elain declared. “I’m meeting a friend at the gym.”

“Yeah, I have to go too,” Azriel lied. He would have canceled any plan he ever had if he could continue this conversation.

“Well, thank you again for your help, Azriel.”

“Don’t mention it.”

She removed her glasses and looked straight into her camera. It felt as if she was staring into his soul.

“Goodbye, Shadowsinger.”

“Goodbye, Flower Girl.”

The call disconnected and he was left staring at his apps. Not a single one interested him.

With a heavy sigh, Azriel walked to his bed. He was planning to lay down and scream into a pillow when he received a text from a number he didn’t recognize.

New message I searched for a few more synonyms, and this one for penis is horrendous. Just listen to this: Meat banjo. Isn’t that just horrible? I’m definitely blocking that word.

Azriel couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up from his chest. It really was a horrendous synonym and he could imagine her sitting in front of her computer, making disgusted faces at the various words on her screen.

New message Oh, this is Elain, by the way.

And that’s when it hit him.

She had texted him and he could see her number. That meant that he could save her number on his phone. It also meant…

Well, he honestly didn’t know what it meant, but he didn’t feel like screaming into his pillow anymore.

#elriel #elriel fanfic #azriel x elain #azriel #acotar #acotar fanfiction #elain archeron #elain x azriel

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dilfbane · 3 years

Text

Your Weeping(Your Need For His Touch)

Summary: When things go south on a mission, you have to confront more than just the sketchy town, cartoon villains, and one-bed hotel room you’re forced to share with Loki. You have to come to terms with not only the consequences of being captured, but also the God of Mischief’s feelings for you - Because for all that he might be an asshole, sometimes, he really does have a heart. Written for the Picture Is Worth A 1,000 Words 6k Follower Writing Challenge by @startrekkingaroundasgard

Pairing: Loki/(Female)Reader

Warnings: Descriptions of injuries and medical treatment, as well as discussions of the inevitable mindset around sacrificing oneself for the mission that I feel like being part of the Avengers would entail. Also swearing, because at its core, this story started out as a bit of a crack! fic.

Word Count: 7.8k.

A/N: So apparently when I have mental breakdowns they result in me writing crack-fic that takes a 180 veer into angst and fluff for absolutely no reason. For the sake of the crack-fic, in this timeline Loki was forced to help the Avengers take down bad guys directly after the end of the first Avengers movie, so… Is that a confusing plot hole I didn’t know how to account for except by making this AU? Maybe. Did I do it anyway?…. Yeah. This really was meant to be a crack-fic about Loki and the reader confessing their feelings set in the bizarre world of meme culture, I didn’t realize there were going to be feels in it until it was three in the morning and all of a sudden this happened. That being said, your girl went there, so enjoy!

“Oh, shit,” You say, as you take in the grimy hotel room. The walls all smeared in what looks like dried blood, the putrid smell of rotten eggs, a crack-screened television with a fine dusting of some suspiciously white powder. And, of course, “There’s one bed.”

“Hmm?” Asks Loki, turning towards you, briefly, from unpacking. He had dumped his suitcase(Magically plucked out of a chaotic liminal space) unceremoniously on the bed’s scratching, pilling coverlet without so much as a second glance at the rest of the room. And why do you need a suitcase, anyways?? You wonder. It isn’t like we’re planning to be here that long. In fact, you hoped with every fiber of your being that you’d be here for as little time as possible, because this town might actually be the sketchiest place you’ve ever seen in your life; no small feat, for a bona-fide member of S.H.I.E.L.D.

You’ve kicked alien ass on a mutated purple Mongolian death-worm three thousand feet over New York City. You’ve run reconnaissance to rescue debatably-magical items sequestered away in an ancient cave labyrinth plastered in paintings and untranslatable runes, gunfire and what could only be described as the baying of hellhounds in the near distance. You’ve fist-fought a gigantic hive-mind robot in a field of artificially sentient feral steel suits - You’ve even survived Tony’s parties.

Yet none of those scenarios hold a candle to this fucking town.

And Loki, the asshat, seems utterly, competently - no, maniacally - unfazed.

“There’s one bed,” You repeat, into the air.

“Ah,” Says Loki, straightening.

“You don’t see that problem with that?!”

“Should I?” He asks you, walking across the room in long, graceful strides to stand in front of you. He wears the same expression he always wears, amused and indifferent, but this time with the addition of a single, elegantly-arched eyebrow. You drop your head, refusing to meet his somewhat-curious gaze. It physically hurts, how attractive Loki is. Not for the first time, you curse whatever god decided that you and him would once again be mission partners - in this case, you belatedly realize, and choke back a thick laugh, said god is, unsurprisingly, Thor.

If you survive this, you make a note to beat his head in with Mjolnir. As it is, you are here in this room with Loki, with perhaps twenty IPP agents and a reckless poisoner dogging your every move, and there’s a high chance that you won’t live long enough to navigate whatever the hell sleeping with your crush-who-has-murdered-men. Ok, so ‘murdered men’ isn’t entirely accurate. More like ‘caused the murder of men inadvertently through his schemes’. It doesn’t seem to make much of a difference, right now.

And what about Loki? He is still staring you down, like you’re some wind up toy moments away from going off. Funny, that, you think. If ever there were a time to not have a mental breakdown, it would be here, with him. You’ve crossed a lot of moral lines in your life, but you will be damned if you let Loki Laufeysson see you cry. Loki is graceful. Composed. Sarcastic. Lithe. Rolls his eyes at almost every statement that comes out of somebody’s mouth. But he is, also, beautiful. Shockingly comforting, in his own nihilistic way. You don’t know what it says about you that you find comfort in statements like, Try not to die, you know that I hate funerals. Part of you - most of you - doesn’t want to. But it gives you strength, somehow, to shrug off the day and ground your flailing mind in evading Loki’s calculated manipulation. I won’t show you my weakness, you think to yourself. It’s not enough, but it’s a start.

“No,” You tell him - too quickly, he’ll pick up on that - “You’re right, you shouldn’t. It’s fine. We have - a lot to deal with, is all.”

Loki nods, seemingly accepting your answer, but his eyes are still narrowed, watching you like he’s calling your bluff. You talk right past that look - have to, to keep yourself sane, to not think about the one bed that looms large over this entire conversation. It doesn’t even look like a comfortable bed.

“We have two days,” You say, to stop yourself thinking of it. And, also, to talk your way through your disarmingly disjointed thoughts. Loki nods. It would really help if you said something, you think. Swallow the thought, hot and thick, down your throat. What’s the point of a mission partner if you can’t even soundboard off them? “The Pink Cobra could strike anyone, anytime. The IPP is planning something in New York - “

“Isn’t everyone, these days, planning something in New York?”

He sounds regretful, and for half a second you want to offer him the reassurance that his very presence offers you. But you are sure he doesn’t know what he does to you - with his words, with the sidelong glances that you’ve felt linger on your form far too long in the heat of a fight. If you didn’t know any better, you would say Loki worries about you.

“We have to shut him down,” You say. Focus on the Pink Cobra, because honestly, that’s easier. “Find out where he manufactures. Not get poisoned,” You add, at the end.

“Yes,” Loki says, tone dripping with sarcasm, “We should certainly try not to get ourselves killed. Failing that, I suppose, we can at least request that no one in H.Y.D.R.A gets autopsy access.”

“Loki?” You ask. Rhetorically. “You’re not helping.”

He smirks at you, then. He knows.

“What do you propose that we do then?” He asks, taking a step towards you, getting so close that you can feel his hot breath. “About the Pink Cobra?”

“Find him.” You say, fumbling, blush rising high on your cheeks.

Tonight?

One bed?

You are screwed.

***

When you were a kid - think really little, Capri Sun pouches and still believing that true love wasn’t complicated - your father told you that every story needed a good supervillain. You aren’t sure if the Pink Cobra counts as a good supervillain, but he’s the least confusing one that you have to deal with - and, as far as villains go, a fine enough challenge to face. He’s like a madman out of some high fantasy novel, with dark eyes and a sable-sewn cloak and a penchant for poisoning. He is adept in all the arts of the woman’s murder; he has a keen grasp on the side-effects of arsenic and camphor and tansy and cyanide and strychnine. He’s been found to have dropped crystal phials filled with belladonna and ricin while fleeing a scene. If all else fails, he’s more than practiced with daggers.

In other words, he’s the kind of villain that none of you, with your flying suits and telekinesis and super-strength, are anywhere near prepared to waylay.

The plan, as far as team Avengers is concerned, is easy:

You and Loki. This town, where the webs of his manufacturing production and the few glimpses of information that Thor has totally legally excavated out of his captured minions has led to. Two days until some undefined grand attack bears down on the city you live in. Two days to find the Pink Cobra and kill him. The more time passes with no headway, the more you think that this is an impossible task, but you know what Tony would say. We have our best minds on it.

The thing is, you aren’t sure that that’s true. The minds that have been set to this task are you and the God of Lies. It’s hardly the best they could have come up with, considering your track records. Actually, you take that back - Loki was a good choice for this mission, because, not three hours after arriving in this hellhole of a city, he seems to have somehow developed the ability to read minds. More specifically, yours. And that could prove stunningly useful.

The scene, as it stands: Loki, sprawled across the lumpy bed, three pairs of crisp white shirts, a plaid scarf, and a full set of Asgardian battle armor neatly hung in the mothball-infested closet, flicking through channels on the grain, cracked television with an apathetic expression and one arm thrown haphazardly over bent leg. Propped up in such a way that he could jump or spin or parry at a moment’s notice, yet perfectly, devastatingly languid, leafing through Nick Fury’s dossier on the Pink Cobra. He looks at you like a god, you think, and then remember. He is one.

You, on the floor, because on top of all the other things this hotel doesn’t have, like two beds, there isn’t anything even resembling a desk, shifting through a glowing, holographed file archive from headquarters that barely runs on your severely outdated laptop. It’s a point of pride to you, keeping the laptop - not because it’s good, but because it’s survived five years of being an Avenger, which is something not even all the Avengers can claim to have done. You’re also fairly certain that Tony’s attempts to update the firmware had infested it with some sort of renegade virus. Elevated above your screen, the files are split into two groups, the sum total of everything that you know about both of the groups that are avidly trying to kill you.

There’s the wealth of information containing the Pink Cobra’s poisoning sprees, but those aren’t the files that interest you, and you know that Loki’s not much interested in them either. That honor falls to the fanatics at the IPP, the Imminently Predictable Psyops organization, which you know even less about than you do about the Pink Cobra, chief among which the fact that they need a new name. Imminently Predictable Psyops?, Tony had said, when you’d finally apprehended one of their proxies. What do they think this is? Some type of ARG?

What you’ve gleaned, from months worth of studying the network, is that they operate as a sort of cringe-oriented death cult intent on ‘reshaping the universe through meme agents’. They’d been on S.H.I.E.L.D’s radar for a long time - upwards of a year - before anyone at team base learned they existed - which, you can almost hear Loki saying, was a failure in the extreme. Currently, it was your job to obsessively worry over whether they were going to send ‘meme agents’ to bust through the door of your seedy hotel room and off you both. You hated - truly loathed - how casually Loki was taking it all.

He’s acting like nothing was wrong with this situation, when, in fact, you’re ninety-nine-point-nine percent sure that this night will end up with one or both of you dead. It is, to say the least, disconcerting.

Kill switch, the holograph files read. Cross-referential Neil Cicierega acoustic weaponry. Your mind sees the words, but doesn’t comprehend them, and you run a hand up to rub at your bleary eyes with annoyance. You risk a glance upwards; on the bed, Loki scans page after page after page with disinterested nonchalance, punctuating the flipping over of each document with a noncommittal hum; as if to say, I understand you. As it to say, This could be worse. You try to slip into that mindset. Certainly, things could be worse.

Actually, though? Not really.

Because, for all the world, the holo-file in front of you just said ‘Pepe The Frog Chaos Banking Laser Initiative’.

“What the fuck does that even mean?!”

“Sorry?”

You whip your head around. Loki, raising an eyebrow. Damn that - perfect - eyebrow.

“Sorry,” You echo back at him, rubbing your eyes again, perversely glad for the break, even if it is this awkward. “I … said that out loud, didn’t I?”

“Marginally,” He tells you. “Yes.”

“Sorry,” You - well, it’s not a whine, not exactly. You’re tired, and there’s no way you’re going to sleep tonight, so you feel like your tone’s justified. “I didn’t mean to do that. I think I’m just - this is. Completely nonsensical.”

“Show me?” He asks, and you snort. He could totally just look up, but -

“Do you have a P.h.d in memes?” You ask him, and, before he can answer, “Because unless you have a P.h.d in memes, I don’t think you’ll be able to help.”

“You’d be surprised,” Loki says. Vaults over the bed with the speed and grace of a panther, filling the air with a cringing wheeze as the rusty springs bend underneath him, and landing in front of the holo-file, pushing you aside slightly to get a better view. When his fingers brush against your side, cool and firm, you flinch.

“Tired,” You offer, when he shoots you a momentarily concerned look. “Just. Need to sleep, later, I think.”

But Loki is already scanning the file, and when he looks up, not five seconds later, you want to hit somebody. Preferably, you think, him.

“I would assume,” Loki says, “That they’re using time travel in order to obtain and store monetary value by way of a Pepe-the-frog inspired laser array.”

“Oh,” You say. You blink once. Blink twice. Still have no idea what that means. “Right.”

“Do you not know your memes, love?” He asks you, smirking. And oh, if you don’t feel things.

“I don’t go on the internet, much,” You tell him. “Too busy, you know, trying not to get killed.”

Loki shrugs. Sidles away from the file. The groan and squeak of those springs tells you he’s back on the bed, giving you some well-needed space, but you can’t bring yourself to look.

“You can sleep,” He says, “If you want.”

“Ha!” You yelp/choke/embarrassingly bleat out into the room’s stale silence. Underneath the rotten eggs, you catch a whiff of bong-water. “No.”

“There’s a bed,” Loki says, cocking his head pointedly and patting the lumpy covers.

“Yeah, that’s - kind of the problem.”

“Why?” He asks you.

“You - really?”

“I was only asking,” Says Loki, re-focusing his attention on whichever Pink Cobra document’s next in the folder. “If you aren’t comfortable telling me - I merely thought, seeing as you were tired, you might take this opportunity to rest.”

“Yeah,” You tell him, “Of course, that’s - nice of you.”

It comes out stilted. Patently off. If he notices, he doesn’t say.

“Are you going to - um. Do you need help, with the rest? The ones I have seem kind of hopeless. I mean,” You say, when he doesn’t look up, “I don’t think that we have to worry about getting demolished by trans-dimensional Agarthian wormholes.”

“Of course not,”” Loki says, scoffing and incredulous, gaze, you are sure, on his page. “If they wanted to kill us, they’d send someone with a gun.”

In reality, it’s several someones.

***

“You jinxed it,” Is the first thing you tell him, when the men leave you. They’ve thrown you into a one-room warehouse, rickety shelves stacked with cartoonish tubs of green goop and mildewing boxes filled with grenades and machine guns and what appears, at second-glance, to be twelve-fingered latex gloves. You’re tied wrist to wrist, ankle to ankle, and your throat feels uncharacteristically parched. Fear, you tell yourself. Apprehension. “Can’t you just - use your seidr to magic us out of this?”

If you could see him - which you can’t, because you’ve been tied back to back - you’d swear that Loki was glaring.

“Do you - do you have a plan?” You ask, after a moment.

“I’m working on it,” He says.

“That’s all?” You say. “We were dragged out of our drug-dealer’s hotel room by a bunch of robed men with guns and the only thing you have to say is ‘I’m working on it?’”

“I’d get it done faster,” Says Loki, “If you wouldn’t interrupt me.”

“Ok,” You tell him, “No interrupting you. Got it. That’s - Alright.”

Unfortunately, not interrupting him is easier said than done, because without the sound of your voice, you are left to your thoughts.

The men had broken in nearly immediately after Loki’s glib, sardonic retort to your worries, shooting the glass out of the room’s already half-smashed-in window and kicking the door in simultaneously. A bit much, isn’t it?, Loki’d asked, and you had wanted to smack yourself on the forehead. Really not the time, you had hissed, but Loki hadn’t seemed to hear you. Do you do this with everyone they send you to assassinate?, he had asked, instead. The men had been dressed in long, billowing cloaks of bright red, embroidered with orange snakes framing a picture of Beaker from the muppets with early 2000’s emo hair. Chaotic meme agents, you had thought to yourself. So that’s what they’re supposed to look like.

You hadn’t picked up, until now, on the snakes.

“They’re working together,” You say, when you can’t stand the playback of Loki being disarmed after spinning and tossing his silver daggers at the men, of the men kneeing him in the balls and twisting your arms behind your back, holding a gun to your head to stop you from trying to fight. Waking up in the back of a van that smelled like microwaved fish. Being tossed like garbage onto the floor of the warehouse, painted in bruises and cuts from the small pieces of glass that had dug their way into your skin. “The IPP and the Pink Cobra.”

“Obviously,” Loki says. Sharply.

“Did Tony not -“

“Stark,” Loki practically growls, and, ok, you’re not losing it but that did make you jump in your skin, “Is an idiot. He wouldn’t know how to connect the dots if they were presented to him in a Buzzfeed Unsolved episode.”

“That’s - You had that on Asgard?” You ask him, momentarily distracted. You wish that you could see Loki’s face, and are very glad that you can’t.

“That isn’t the point,” Loki says.

“I know,” You tell him. You’re scared that your voice is trembling. Scared that he can tell, even though he’s not facing you, how badly your fingers are shaking. Scared that he knows your worst, biggest secret -

That, despite being an Avenger, you are anxious. That, despite him being Loki, despite him being here, and wonderfully, infuriatingly himself, he cannot help you, this time.

You are going to die, covered in cuts and abrasions, on the floor of a meme network’s headquarters, at three a.m in the morning. They are going to come in with umbrellas that shoot poison darts or the ex-presidents Point Break masks and mow you down, and Loki has no fucking plan. You feel the ropes tighten where they’re knotted, itchy and fierce, and you have to fight to keep yourself from whining in terror and nerves. Whining isn’t what Loki needs right now. Whining’s not going to save you.

What is going to save you, you try and remind yourself, is Loki. If you can shut up. If you can let him decipher what needs to be done. If he can figure out some way to do it before the blowtorch-wielding robed vigilantes or some disincarnate meme god comes back and draws their electronically-sharpened fingernails across your throat hard enough to split skin and sinew, send waves of blood down the front of your shirt like a river of sweet, thick red honey and toss your corpse in a ditch by a highway and -

“Y/N?” It is foggy, barely-heard. Posh. “Y/N!” Louder, this time. There are fingers on your wrist, bent backwards to grip you. Squeezing, insistent and there. “Breathe.”

Fuck, you think. You’d started to hyperventilate. To shake, with a full-body tremor that forecasts a great, unstoppable wave of sobbing panic. And Loki had noticed. “I need you to trust me,” He says. “Trust me to get us out of this. Can you do that for me, darling?”

He has never called you darling before, but God how you’ve wanted him to. You feel like you’re being stabbed in the heart - because there is no way he means it, no way that this is anything other than a desperate and cruel attempt to get you to calm down. Something that belies how obvious you are. How needy you are. How pathetic. And yet -

And yet, he doesn’t say it meanly. He speaks like he cares about you, and in the face of your impending death, you want to think Loki cares. You’d let him say anything, do anything to you, right now. More than that, though, more than any of that - as you think back to meeting him, to your blossoming late-night friendship and twitchy banter and the quiet moments you’ve shared with him in-between battles -

“I trust you, Loki,” You tell him, and feel your breath quiet in you. Feel yourself growing still and calm with the certainty that Loki will do as he’s said.

That you will survive this.

That -

“Good,” Loki says. Not relieved, but determined. Leaving you no room to argue.

“So what do we do?” You ask him.

“Nothing,” Says Loki, and you can hear his wide grin.

“Nothing?” You ask him, gawking.

“Nothing,” Says Loki. He gives your hand a tight squeeze.

And then the Pink Cobra walks in.

***

This will end badly, you think. It’s about the only thing that you can think, preoccupied as you are with -

It might be easier not to -

Fuck.

The thing is - and you really do try not to move, not to groan, not to scream - the thing is, you thought that when Loki said he had a plan, that said plan wouldn’t involve you being collateral damage for a LARP-er who’d most likely broken out of an asylum. I wish that we could be back in that shitty one-bed hotel room, you think to yourself, and - alright, not the best timing, but it rips a laugh out of you, spiraling and unhinged, before you feel the Pink Cobra, resplendent in coral cloak and villainous swagger, slug you one in the jaw. It hurts worse than you’d thought it would - you’ve never really gotten injured on missions, you’re usually good at talking yourself out of things, which is why the Avengers keep you around. You can speak any language, as long as you’ve heard it once, and your customary daily awkwardness can shift into persuasion like flicking a light-switch on.

Usually, though, you had an opportunity to speak, and weren’t rendered speechless by -

Loki, if you’re being honest. How much you want to kiss him. How much of an asshole he is. Trust me, he’d asked you. Can you do that for me? The Pink Cobra’s grip is sharp and bruising on your side; he’s slipped his fingers up your shirt and is pressing the point on your side that threatens to make your knees buckle, making bile rise up in your throat, driving you wild with the aching need to flee. He has one hand clasped over your mouth, now that you’ve quieted, and you can feel something - pain, and a pill - pressed snugly into his palm. He will force it down you, you know, if Loki so much as sighs wrong.

You’ll never trust him again.

You wish that you knew what the time was. If you end up dying at 4:20, you’re going to throw fists with somebody in hell.

You wish, also, for aspirin. Avengers training has left you woefully unprepared for the reality of getting punched in the face. You can already feel your jaw starting to swell, taste an egregious amount of blood. You’re pretty sure that the force of the blow knocked a tooth out.

What strikes fear into you, though - a fear somehow deeper than the absolutely bone-chilling, blood-curdling knowledge of what the Pink Cobra might do to you - is the look you’d seen on Loki’s face in the seconds after he’d grabbed you, before it fell into practiced, amused apathy. He’d gone white, and his eyes had blown wide. His fingers had spasmed with anger.

He’d looked as scared as you feel.

And you have no idea why.

It isn’t like you’re anyone special. Not any more than the rest of the team. Less so than most of them. You aren’t a god, like Loki and Thor are. You don’t have stealth-assassin training, like Bucky, or super-strength like Steve. You can’t seamlessly pilot mechanical suits over the New York skyline like Tony, or use a crossbow like Clint, or beat thirty people in single-hand combat like Nat, or change into a nitro-fueled rage machine like Bruce.

You can’t do anything, much.

Except, apparently, die.

You squeeze your eyes shut, not letting yourself look at him. You won’t let Loki’s disinterested face be the last thing that you see. It makes the Pink Cobra’s words all the worse, when he speaks. His voice is dark and sick and timbered, and you feel maggots crawling over your skin as he slots you closer to his body, tightening his already painful grip on you so that you can’t move even an inch away from his tensed, coiled muscles.

“So,” He says, “You are superheroes? How long did it take me, to apprehend you? Ah - three and a half hours? Tell your boss-man, do better next time.”

“I’ll pass it along,” Loki says. His voice sounds different. You can’t place why. Still won’t look.

“You won’t,” The Pink Cobra says. You can feel his shoulders rise, then fall. Feel him smirk. You love Loki’s smirk - secretly delight in drawing it from him, sometimes - but the Pink Cobra’s only fills you with yet more terror. You’ve pursed your lips tightly shut against the intrusion of his hand, but when Loki speaks he forces your bruised, bleeding jaw open and shoves the pill into your mouth. The pain of your injury tears through you like white lightning and you thrash, trying to escape. A keening sound claws its way out of you, fevered and anguished, and you feel your hands, still bound up in ropes, trying in vain to push off and away. The man behind you sighs, and then aims a swift kick at the back of your knees, which sends you down before you can so much as yelp. Your knees hit the floor, and he’s holding you by your hair now, twisting it so hard that you’re almost sure he’ll scalp you. He’s pulled something - too big to be be a knife, some kind of shortsword?! - Out from beneath his cloak, and is pressing it up against the column of your throat. You feel the weight of the capsule between your teeth heavily now, and realize what it means in the split-second before the Pink Cobra bends and whispers, Your choice; stale and rancid into the shell of your ear.

Next, he addresses Loki.

“You’ll be wanting to know what our plan is,” He says. Our, you think. We were right. “Hmm? I know how you people are. Always wanting to know. Tell me this, Mischief Man. What will I get, if I tell you? What price are you willing to pay?”

You know what this is. You know it like the ache in your heart when Loki brushes you off. Like the safety you feel in his arms. You open your eyes. Take in Loki’s face - he’s trying to hide, but you know, you know how he feels. You know what he’s going to choose.

And you know that you can’t let him choose it.

“You’ll let her go,” Loki asks, “If we let you leave here?”

“The thing could be managed.”

No, you think. No, Loki, don’t! Whatever the Pink Cobra’s going to do, whatever the IPP’s planning, knowing’s worth more than your life.

“One thing I want to know,” Loki says. He’s twirling a knife of his own, a slim silver number he keeps on him at all times, and you feel the blade on your own throat start to dig in - not enough to draw blood, but enough for you to feel it. The threat of it. The promise of it, and the coldness of the gleaming metal. “You and the IPP? How does it fit?”

“You want information from me?” The Pink Cobra asks. Lets his blade bite you, just barely, and the strength it takes for you not to scream is more strength then you’d known you possess.

“Yes,” Says Loki. “It’s not like I’m asking for much.”

He meets your gaze. You meet his. You hope that he cannot read it. His eyes are so worried, so desperate, you nearly break down.

“I suppose,” The Pink Cobra says, “That you’ve earned it. Getting here - getting this far - it must have been no easy task. Fine. There is no Imminently Predictable Psyops organization. They were a - what do you call it? Red herring? A scent of blood for the shark.”

“You fabricated them,” Loki says. “Why would you fabricate them?”

He is losing his composure, you can tell. You will never be ready for this. He will never be ready for this. You hope that he will forgive you, and you know that he never will, and you swallow the pill in your mouth.

“Because it was fun,” The Pink Cobra says.

And then your body knows pain.

***

“He didn’t think I would do it,” You say. Your mouth feels thick, clotted with blood and shock, and your body is one raw, gaping wound, but the giddy feeling of victory has begun to course through your veins. Pure, unfiltered adrenaline. You had waited for the moment of death to come, and it hadn’t. The pill is fake, your mind had screamed. But there’d been one thing left, that might work. You had breathed as slowly as you possibly could, forced every muscle of your scared, writhing body into single-minded limpness, rolled your eyes backwards into your head, drew one last breath in, and fallen. Twitched, for a few seconds, like a rag-doll. Then made yourself still.

Loki had slit the Pink Cobra ear to ear, beaten him within an inch of his life as he bled out, screaming like a man deranged. He’d left him a wet, bloody mess on the floor, and the blood had run down the not-quite-steady plane of it, pooling around you and mixing with the blood from your jaw, from the evening’s earlier glass cuts, from the deep, burning stab wound the Cobra had got on your arm.

You breathe, and your body knows pain.

You look at Loki, and your body knows pain.

He is shaking. Visibly shaking. His hands are clenched into fists at his side, and he looks as pale as bleached bones. His eyes are shot red - he had sobbed, when you fell, and a howl had torn through his body. You don’t know what to do, what it means, what the hell even to say to him. His cheeks are tear-stained, his breaths ragged.

You blink, and your body feels pain.

“We won,” You croak out. “Loki, we won.” It hurts worse than anything you’ve ever felt in your life. “I think he broke one of my ribs.”

You don’t mean to say that last part, but you do, and you are the one crying now, because it feels like he probably has, and you can barely even stay awake through this pain. It feels like the Hulk is pulling you limb from limb. Like all of those nightmares you’ve had where Loki decided to leave you - to go back to Asgard, and never speak to you again.

Stupid, you think. He won’t, again. Not after this.

Loki still hasn’t spoken. He’s looking at you, and his eyes are wild. Desperately, jaggedly roaming your body. His fists twitch with every new part of your body they land on.

“That bad, huh - Oh, fuck.”

And just like that, the tension leaves Loki’s body. The dam that had held him firmly in place is broken, and he’s running towards you with none of his usual grace. Dropping down by your side. He hoists you, and you hiss, and the tears won’t stop coming, so you bury your face in his shirt, nose pressed at the crisply ironed collar. Don’t care that it’s bleeding, because Loki’s here now. Holding you. Keeping you real. He’s got one hand stroking your hair and his touch feels right, nothing like the Pink Cobra’s, and he’s whispering: You brave, precious, idiot, how dare you, how dare you throw your life away like that?!

“It worked,” You exhale - it’s the most you can manage. You would laugh, if it wouldn’t shred you to pieces. Loki cradles you fiercely, hands grasping at the sweat-and-blood soaked fabric of your shirt, running over you as if he doesn’t believe you’re alive. “It - hurts,” You get out. Barely. “Loki, it - I can’t -“

“Don’t,” He tells you. His voice has gone brittle, choked with thorns. “Don’t talk. Don’t - Don’t ever do that again. Do you hear me? You will never do that again.”

If I need to, I will, you think. And you wonder if that’s why you’re here. Wonder if that’s why you’re strong. You wonder, and hurt, and believe. Feel the strength of him, clutching you like you’re the only thing in the world, taking in greedy lungfuls of your weeping, your need for his touch.

You can’t talk, anymore. It hurts too badly. But you surge, upwards, up into where he’s holding the back of your head, pressing your forehead into the dark, warm space under his jaw that smells like smoke and peppermint. Loki is taller than you are - you fit right into the curve of his neck, and his long curls curtain you in a bubble of warmth and content.

“Promise,” You say, but it comes out unintelligible, and Loki’s hands are running, so gently, over your skin.

“What was your plan?” You ask him, forcing it out of your body.

“Hush,” Loki says, “Later.”

There might not be any later, you think. Not like this.

***

In the hotel room, an ocean of scattered pages and ceiling mold and blessed privacy, you balance, cross-legged, on the bed. The wind blows wet and cold from an earlier rain through the busted out window. You have managed this out of sheer stubborn-ness, because it is the most that Loki allowed you to do. You’d passed out, twice, on the journey back - he had magicked you there, though it had taken a considerable amount of effort that you weren’t sure you really deserved - and had immediately propped you up on the pillows and stooped to ruffle through his suitcase, emerging not long after with binding tape, cat-gut thread, and a needle so sharp you could feel it slicing your flesh. You had opened your mouth to protest, but Loki had silenced you with a glare that could fell Director Fury. So you had gone quiet, and caved, letting him kneel over you on the distinctly lumpy mattress and begin inspecting your wounds. It had taken a few tries and a Please to convince him to let you sit on your own, and it hurt much more than the manner in which he’d arranged you. You were starting to, slightly, regret it.

“You don’t have to do this,” You say, pulling it from bleeding lips. He shushes you with a harsh, stern tut. “You’re not my mother,” You tell him.

“You could have died,” Loki says. There’s a snarling undercurrent to it that you can’t even start dissecting. “What were you thinking?” He asks. It is easier, though still painful, for you to answer him - he had used nearly half of his Thor-limited magic reserve to perform a basic stasis spell on your injuries, but the spell wouldn’t last forever. You’ll need stitches, he’d said, choking it out like he was the hurt one when he’d seen the number the Cobra’s blade had done to your arm.

“I’ve had worse,” You say, grinning weakly.

“Are you lying to me?” He asks you, with the tone of someone who’s distinctly not in the mood for joking.

“I thought,” You say. Steel yourself. “I thought you weren’t going to do what needed to be done. So I - Did it myself.”

“What needed to be done.” Loki says, enunciating every word.

“We couldn’t let him walk away,” You say, meeting his eyes. Emerald, clouded with fury. You don’t let yourself flinch from that anger. You don’t let yourself run from your choice. “You know what he would have done.”

“I don’t,” Loki says. “I know nothing. I know - I know that you think that your life means so little I wouldn’t care if you were gone. That I could - Live, without you.”

That’s… different.

“And I know,” Loki continues, “That I told you to trust me, and I meant it.”

“I do,” You say. There is no hesitation. “I trust you - Loki. Of course I trust you. It’s not - it wasn’t -“

“Stop talking,” He snaps. Gentles, when you jerk your head away, blink back a fresh wave of tears. “You need rest,” He says. “And - This is. This is going to hurt.”

You nod.

“Best get it over with, then.”

“You should keep your eyes closed,” He says.

“No! I want - I need to look.” You bring your eyes up to your arm, which he’s settled onto bed’s chewed, scratchy quilt without you realizing, but Loki tilts your head up with a barely-there graze of his fingers, achingly gentle to avoid aggravating your swollen jaw. He holds your gaze for a long time. Doesn’t look mad, anymore.

“Are you sure?” He asks you. Like all of this could be over with, if you wanted.

“How bad it could it be?” You ask back.

The injury is horrendous. You’d thought - honest-to-God, you’d thought the pain was terrible, but you weren’t ready for what your arm has become. The line of the wound runs in a craggy jigsaw from just under your shoulder to the tip of your elbow. Small wonder you can’t move it, can barely think through it at all.

“Y/N?” Loki asks, “Are you -“

“Fine,” You say. Blink, and your body knows pain. Try not to let how scared you are show, when you look back up at Loki. The Pink Cobra’s dead. You shouldn’t be scared, anymore. “It’s really bad, isn’t it?”

Loki sighs. Long and low and sad.

“Will I have to - “

“Bite,” Loki says, and shoves something - the sleeve of his shirt, crusted in blood which you realize, sickeningly, is yours - into your mouth. “It’ll help.”

It doesn’t, but he holds your hand through it, hushing you through the pain with furrowed eyebrows, thread and needle flying deftly through skin, air, skin again. His fingers move precisely, deliberate, quick, and when, on one stitch, you audibly whimper, he pauses to lean down and press a soft, utterly unexpected kiss to your hairline. You are unable to fully express how much it means to you, so you do the next best thing and kiss him yourself, pressing him back once he’s finished the last of his stitches and breathing all the the words you can’t say into him. You press every fear and gratitude and lingering nerve into the warmth of his lips, wending your fingers through his dark hair despite the pangs of agony still thrumming through every inch of your body. Your face hurts, but the kiss is all you’ve ever needed and more, and Loki is so, so gentle with you, pulling away with creased eyebrows and a look of genuine concern.

“I wanted to,” You tell him, mustering all of your strength. “It didn’t hurt.”

“Stop,” He tells you, voice cracking, “Stop lying.”

“I’m not,” You say. “I wanted to, Loki, I did.”

“And you wanted to -“

“No.” You are vehement about it, for a broken-ribbed, broken-jawed, freshly-stitched person coming off the high of his teeth and his tongue. “Not that, I swear, never that.”

“Why did you do it, then?” Loki asks. He has steepled his fingers under his chin, and his narrowed eyes pierce through you to the soul. You couldn’t lie to this man, you think, if your life depended on it.

You know that you have to tell him, this time. Really tell him. You don’t.

“”Why didn’t you use your magic?”

“You know why,” He says, and you do. You’d remembered it as the white pill turned to white powder in your gums, as the Pink Cobra’s knife had carved its way into your flesh. Thor had put a set limit on it, as condition of Loki’s release - Proof, he had said, We can trust you. Loki had thought to save it for later, that you wouldn’t need him right then. He had thought you’d talk them out, to safety.

You’d failed him.

“You didn’t,” He tells you, voice raw. He goes to grip your chin, to force you to listen to him, but with a glance and ill-concealed wince at your purpled jaw he thinks better of it. “You think that you failed me? You let yourself be - be beaten and stabbed - just so people you’ve never met in your life wouldn’t die, and you call that a failure?” He runs a hand through his hair. Bites back a snarl. Drops your arm. “I need you to listen to me,” Loki says, “Very, very carefully. You’re going to tell me why now, love. And then we’re going to fix it.”

You raise an eyebrow. Worse than he does, you’re aware.

“Sleep,” He amends, with a pointed look at the bed underneath you, “And then we’re going to fix it.”

“There’s only one bed,” You tell him, “And I feel like I just got run over by a truck.”

Loki huffs, a puff of warm air that you feel, from how close he still is. A grin twitches at the edge of his lips. It sets off sparks inside you.

“I thought -“ You say. Shake your head, and restart. “You would have let the Pink Cobra attack. You would have let him just walk away, and I couldn’t just - let that happen.”

“Enlightening.”

“No,” You tell him, “I mean it. I couldn’t - I’m not - I’m not worth more than anyone else. We’re the Avengers. It’s our job to save people, Loki.”

He’s regarding you carefully, eyes still narrowed, all vestiges of softness gone from his face. When he opens his mouth, it’s to close it. Form thoughts. Discard them. Exhale.

“My mother once told me,” He finally says, “That I would never know what it meant to be human until I found the person who made me want to bleed the world dry. Take all of its’ suffering, all of its’ cruelty, and leech it out of the very fabric of time, just to keep that person from anguish, from harm.”

“I don’t -“

He holds a hand up. You still.

“She never said they would infuriate me,” Loki says. “She never said they would make me laugh, or smile, or question my sanity on a regular basis. She never said that they’d try and get themselves killed, and that I’d have to watch, and that I would feel like my heart was being ripped from my body and torn to a bloody pulp; that I would make the sky rain blood and fire at the sight of it alone. But she was right about one thing - Many things, but also this. She told me that it wouldn’t matter. That I would - love you - anyway.”

“You don’t,” You say, not daring to hope. It’s an automatic retort.

“Foolish girl,” Loki chides, and you blink back fresh, stinging tears. How long have you wanted to hear Loki say that to you? How many sneaky looks have you stolen in the heat of your missions, just to see his smart mind and tricky magic at work? How many nights have you sat up together, sequestered from your insomnia in a bubble of hard-earned banter and peppermint tea, fighting the tight, coiling urge to push aside your steaming mugs and pull him into your needing?

He could not - he can’t - feel the same.

“Loki,” You say, stumbling over the words, “You can’t - This is - This is me we’re talking about.”

“Is there anyone else here,” Loki asks you, “That I could be talking about?” He seems nonchalant, now, as if this - this cruel fucking joke, when you already feel you’re on fire - is merely a fact of his life. “We’re going to leave this excuse of a town, and get you - proper care. Fix it. Because I will not, on my honor, watch you suffer in pain. But first, you’re going to sleep.”

“There’s only one bed,” You tell him, and feel your resolve as it shatters. You cling to the statement like it’s the last remnant of the girl you were and the woman that you’ll never be, “And the shower doesn’t work. And I’m covered in blood.”

But when you look at Loki, his eyes twinkle, mischievous.

“Will you stay with me?,” You ask him, biting your lip.

“You astound me,” He tells you, and rolls his eyes, and it feels - it feels normal. Good. A tender heat unfurls in your heart like orchid petals in the sun, numbing the persistent ache in your ribcage. “To even think that I would do anything else.”

Later, you will ask him why. Why do you love me?, you will ask, and Loki will hum, low in his throat, curled around you just like this first night; your back pressed into his chest, your legs tangled up hopelessly, his fingers tracing nonsense patterns onto your spine in the dawn-light’s syrupy gold. Because, he will tell you, trailing a line of soft kisses up the scar on your arm - an ugly thing, but it functions, mostly, and only ever seems to hurt on the days when he isn’t there - I was given no choice.

But if you’d had one?”, You will ask, and spin around, propping yourself on your elbow.

You tempt me, He’ll tell you, baring his sharp teeth. Shouldn’t you know better than that?

You will lie there, next to each other, not needing a single word. Because you will know. Because he will have told you, a thousand times, a thousand ways, exactly how he feels about you.

Tonight, though, isn’t that night. It takes a moment to get settled in his hold, and the rain spits and drums against what glass remains in your window, slicking the carpet with dark, greasy splotches. It figures, you think, that even the rain in this city has the smell and the texture of oil. You feel like a bag of bones, stretched too thin. But safe, in his arms, in a way that you’ve never felt, before now. Loki is with you, you realize. Wrapped around you like a traveler’s cloak, the comforting weight of a slim, balanced blade at your side in a fight. He is cool, around your afraid. Warm, where his clever fingers whine and needle their way through your skin to your heart.

“I hate you,” You tell him, “You know that?”

Loki laughs, a deep, rumbling purr.

“Go to sleep.”

#picture1000wordswc #pic 4 #loki/reader #female reader #crack #so much crack #just a lot of references to bad memes and cringe movies that turns into all the angst #because for some reason i’m like this #guess which character from another popular franchise i based my crack villain off #soundtrack to this was 800 percent mouth moods #in all seriousness though huge congrats to @startrekkingaroundasgard #you deserve all the love #unfortunately i showed my love by writing insane crack fic but HEY #loki is in it so hopefully that makes up for the c r i n g e

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 3 years

Text

Satisfied, Part 52

First

~~~

Damian had set Riddler down in the pile, and now every single one of the bats was pacing anxiously.

Except for Jason, who was pointing his guns at the Rogues at random and interrogating them.

“Where was Joker? Has anyone seen Joker? Why isn’t he around? What is he planning? How had he avoided all of us --?”

“Red Hood,” said Cass, eventually, resting a hand on his arm. “They don’t know anything.”

“They’re his teammates! They’re supposed to tell each other their plans!”

Marinette tried not to wince, shoving her hands in the pockets of her leather jacket.

“Right…” She said slowly. “Right, so, we need to split up and find him.”

“He could be anywhere by now!”

Tim shook his head, looking up from his phone. “His name hasn’t been mentioned on Twitter outside of everything at the Gala. And there’s no pictures of him from the Gala. It’s like he wasn’t even here.”

The bats exchanged wary looks. Ah, that’s kinda bad. Joker stood out in a crowd, so the only way he could get away without people even talking about him was if he was killing them. Or, somehow, he’d found a way to hide out. Both ideas were pretty terrifying.

“We should split into tiny groups, partners or whatever, and look.”

Jason was at her side in an instant, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “I call Ladybug!”

She rolled her eyes with a slight grin playing at her lips. “Sure, I’ll take Red Hood.”

Damian, however, seemed less amused as he walked over and tugged on Marinette’s arm in an attempt to pull her away from Jason. “Dad, I’m her partner!” He complained.

“And I’m her mentor,” was his retort.

Bruce rolled his eyes. “Kids, we don’t have time--.” He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “How about this: Damian, you go with them and make sure they don’t kill anyone.”

Jason and Marinette cursed.

Dick picked up his phone and took a picture of Bruce, then grinned and sent out a tweet. “There. Hopefully Gotham will pick up the hashtag and we can get Joker coming in this direction.”

“Does he have a Twitter?”

“He’d be insane not to,” said Dick with a shrug. Everyone looked at him for a few seconds and his face flushed as realization dawned on him. “I… listen…”

Marinette saved him from the imminent embarrassment: “Right, we’re going off in that --” she jerked her head to the right “-- direction.”

Some people yelled ‘good luck’ and others variations of ‘please don’t kill anyone’ as they hopped the wall.

Marinette shook her head slightly as they started off in that direction. “I can’t believe we were out for three hours.”

“Who knows what he’s done by now.”

Damian clicked his tongue. “Are we sure this is the right direction?”

“Well, unless you were somehow wrong about my location when I was completely still for over an hour, I’d say yes,” she chirped.

“And we’re assuming that he made a beeline for the Gala,” added Jason, though he didn’t seem happy about it.

“He did,” said Marinette. She had to at least pretend like she was confident, because Damian was looking anxious and she wanted to at least try and help him.

They hopped up onto the roof of the nearest building and split off to try and get a better look at everything.

She saw something out of the corner of her eyes and frowned suspiciously, pausing in her run and turning to look at it. It was late, Gotham was always well asleep by midnight outside of criminal activity. It was nearing 3 in the morning, no one should be out.

Her eyes detected another movement and she scowled, whipping her head around to look at it.

Cass and Duke materialized out of the shadows and she breathed a sigh of relief… then tensed up. She bit the inside of her cheek.

She briefly considered throwing down a smoke bomb but, hey, they probably knew where she was going anyways. It would only work for so long. Great. Time to talk it out.

“Heeeeeey...” She murmured awkwardly. She waved for them to follow and they all picked up the pace as they ran along the rooftops. “So… it’s not what it looks like?”

Cass raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Because it looks like you knew exactly what direction Joker would be in,” said Duke, sending her a tiny glare.

“Yeah, it’s not that,” she muttered.

Duke gave a slight laugh. “Alright, I’ll bite: what is it?”

“Chaaaance?” She earned two skeptical looks and she sighed. “Fine. I closed the portal before Joker could step through so Jason, Damian, and I could loop back around towards the warehouse after the Gala stuff and kill him.”

Cass nodded slightly. “And we can’t talk you out of it.”

It was more of a statement than a question, most things Cass said were, but she still answered: “Nope.”

The two sighed.

Marinette waited for the lecture, but it never came. Instead, the two broke off from her and helped look around for Joker.

She glanced to the side and saw that Jason and Damian were also talking to someone. Great, so it seemed that all the bat kids were there. She’d have to hope that her group could find Joker first, because she didn’t know how they were going to kill Joker if he had four people protecting him while he was also (probably) trying to kill them.

She slipped her fingers into her utility belt and she ran her thumb over the fox miraculous. She didn’t like the idea of using it along with the ladybug one, not so soon after what she’d nearly done to Penguin, but…

She heard someone touch ground beside her and turned her head slightly to see Tim, her hand sliding out of her belt.

He gave her a tiny smile. “Hey.”

She sighed. “Let me guess, Cass tipped you off?”

“Of course.”

“Does Bruce know?”

He shook his head slightly. “Nope, he’s still waiting for Joker at the Gala.”

She nodded. Good…

“Are you here to convince me not to kill him?”

He gave a shrug. “I probably couldn’t, to be honest.”

She nodded. That was true. Even if he gave an ultimatum, dating him or killing Joker, she would choose killing Joker. Even if she lov -- really liked him, the wellbeing of the city would always come first.

He sighed. “Right. I want us to work, so…” He tried to catch her eyes but she kept her gaze on the ground, glad to have the excuse of looking for Joker. “Could you promise me this is the last one? The last murder you intend on committing, I mean.”

She considered this for a bit.

“Because I really don’t want to have to Catwoman and Batman this relationship,” he added, his tone only half-joking.

“I don’t want to kill anyone at all, but this is really the only solution I could find. And...” She trailed off, her eyes narrowing in on the warehouse. She glanced around and saw that everyone was slowing to a stop. No one had seen Joker, then. The warehouse was their last hope.

Tim and Marinette skidded to a stop.

She looked at the sky and continued: “And… I don’t want you guys feeling guilty about the whole situation. So… go. Get Cass, Duke, and Dick and go. We can handle him.”

A hand slipped into hers and she smiled faintly.

“Hey, we’re all a family, right? You can’t do dumb stuff without us,” he said.

She finally looked over at him. “I mean…” Her eyes caught sight of movement over his shoulder and she sighed. “Okay, fine, you’ve forced my hand,” she said. She smiled faintly, gripping his hand tighter as he leaned down to kiss her.

And then she flipped him over her shoulder.

She heard two gasps as he slammed into someone, and they skid across the rooftop.

She whipped around and cursed the moment her eyes landed on Duke. Great, exactly the person she didn’t want to fight. She couldn’t beat him, she had found that out the hard way during sparring. He had this weird way of predicting her moves.

So she’d have to play dirty.

She grabbed a smoke bomb from her belt and threw it down. Smoke enveloped them and she ducked away to stop herself from coughing and giving away her location.

“Lucky charm,” she mouthed and barely avoided the giant cage falling from the sky. She glanced at the smoke cloud, and listened in for Tim and Duke. They were close together. Good. She channeled some of her strength as Ladybug and tossed it on top of them.

The smoke cleared slowly and they seemed to realize what had happened, running to the bars of the cage and struggling against them.

She ignored their curses. She had bigger problems.

She looked around.

Cass and Damian were fighting, which meant Dick and Jason were the other matchup.

She bit the inside of her cheek. Cass and Damian were pretty evenly matched, but Dick and Jason…

She sighed and listened in for any sounds…

There. The alley right next to the warehouse.

She jumped down and carefully, silently, poked her head around to see.

Dick was winning, and bad. He had years of experience on Jason, and it definitely showed. She hesitated. She didn’t know if they could beat him even if they combined their forces, but she decided that it was better to face him now than face him with Joker later.

Marinette ran into the alley and jumped on Dick’s back, wrapping her arms around his neck. He cursed and stumbled back, tugging at her grip. He dropped onto the ground, driving his elbow into her stomach. The air was sapped from her lungs and she instantly let go to cradle her stomach.

Dick scrambled off of her, only to get nailed in the head by a kick from Jason. He gave a groan and stumbled back, then shook his head as if to clear it. He rolled to his feet.

He looked between his two siblings for a moment, wiping some blood from his brow.

She launched herself at him, her hand coming up for a punch, only for him to flip out of the way. His foot came up mid-flip and slammed into her chin, sending her back a few steps. Her brain rattled around in her head as she stumbled into Jason.

The man cursed and took both of their weights. After making sure she wasn’t about to fall, he ran at Dick. The man met him head-on, grinning as he blocked his hit and slammed his foot into Jason’s side. There was a clattering sound and they both went to the ground.

Marinette managed to blink the spots out of her eyes and jumped at them, adding to the flurry of limbs. They all beat against each other (Marinette and Jason definitely hit each other a few times in the confusion) until eventually Dick managed to extract himself.

The three got to their feet and stared each other down. They were panting, bruised and bloody, and she was pretty sure they all had concussions. They didn’t even want to fight each other, not really...

But this wasn’t a subject any of them were willing to let go.

Jason suddenly rushed forward, slamming into Dick. They crashed through a window and, after a moment’s thought, she clambered inside the warehouse as well.

The two were rolling around, the glass-covered floors scratching their skin and suits, wrestling for the upper hand.

She looked around and grabbed the nearest item -- a board off of a window. She hit Dick in the side as hard as she could and he went careening into a wall. He slid to the ground slowly and didn’t move.

Marinette dropped the board and checked Jason over. It wasn’t good, but he was conscious and moving. She helped him to his feet and he gave a weak grin.

Only to hear laughter.

They looked around.

And saw Joker...

Who was holding a hand to Damian’s throat.

~~~

The fight scenes I write are progressively getting more and more technical. Don’t really know if this makes them more boring or more interesting but heyyyyy I have fun writing it soooo

Taglist

@comet-kun @thatonecroc @trippingovermyfeet @swiftie-miraculer13 @nickristus-dreamer @moongoddesskiana @i-am-ironic @indecisive-mess-named-me @thebooki3h @insane-fangirl-of-everything @deepestobservationwombat @theymakeupfairies @fatimaabbasrizvi @clumsy-owl-4178 @fanofalittletoomuch @iamablinkmarvelarmy @nathleigh @lilkymilky @silvergold-swirl @dino-lovingreen-angel @thestressmademedoit @kissa-chan @ladybug-182 @alysrose-starchild @t1dwarrior-of-earth @spyofthenightcourt @rowanrouge @nik-nak-3 @momothefemur @aestheticnpoetic @labschaos @our-preciousss @mochinek0 @eliza-bich @mythogaychic @severelyenchantedwonderland @sashakoi @smolplantmum @bluesimani @tropestropestropes @kitsunebell @keepingupwiththemalfoys @sassakitty @2confused-2doanything @too0bsessedformyowngood @all-mights-asscheeks @demonicbusiness @meg-an-ace @fantasiame @qualitypeacepainter @multplelifes @kokotaru @spicybelladonna @ultimatetornshipper @cute-angi

#timinette #timari #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #maribat #satisfied #red robin #tim drake

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pines-troz · 3 years

Text

Weekend With The Warners Chapter Two - Animaniacs & Pinky and The Brain

Summary: When the CEO tasks Pinky and The Brain with the important assignment of watching over the Warners for the weekend, Brain is prepared for any antics that the children have in store. What he didn’t take into account was forming a familial bond with the kids.

Word Count: 3,017

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27849962/chapters/68388166

The mice continued on their way through the studio lot, holding hands as they went. As they found themselves alone near the lot entrance, Brain decided to discuss his latest plan with his partner.

“Listen close, Pinky, for I have devised a surefire plan to take over the world. Your ingenious decision of choosing The Iron Giant as our date night movie the other evening has greatly inspired me, Pinky. We will build a giant robot to assert our dominance over humanity!” Brain eagerly declared, choosing to ignore the pacifist message of the beloved animated movie. “I’ve already made calculations for our finances, and we would need exactly five million dollars to buy the necessary parts. Fortunately, I’ve come up with a brilliant way to acquire the funds.”

Brain pulled Pinky closer as he explained. “We will start a family-friendly crafts tutorial channel on YouTube, teaching children how to make slime among other wholesome DIY-projects. After we grow a substantial following, we’ll shamelessly peddle overpriced merchandise! Once we make a fortune from selling our wares, we will then purchase the necessary materials to construct our mech which we will use to intimidate the Canadian Prime Minister and ascend to power!”

The Brain began to chuckle evilly, and Pinky joined in with his eager giggling.

“But first, we must purchase filming equipment from the electronics store and return to the lab!” Brain commanded.

“Say Brain, how do you spell DIY?” Pinky asked, taking out a pen and notebook.

Brain blushed furiously upon hearing his boyfriend’s moronic question. “Pinky, you are without a doubt the most imbecilic mouse I’ve ever met. But, by Ptolomey, I am madly in love with you.”

“Aw Brain!” Pinky cooed, moving his tail into the shape of a heart.

As the lab mice were about to exit the movie lot, they were stopped by Ralph the security guard.

“Uh, hold it right there.” The bumbling guard ordered. “The CEO wants me to bring you two to her office by cone, duh-I mean drone!”

The mice were immediately swooped into a net and carried above by the drone. Ralph had some difficulty controlling the drone, but he managed to fly the rodent actors over to the main office building in the middle of the studio lot.

“This is utterly mortifying.” Brain commented as he tried to prop himself into a more comfortable position.

“Oh cheer up, Brain,” Pinky consoled. “Think of it like we’re on a magic carpet ride!” The taller mouse wrapped his arm around Brain, pulling him close as he began to sing. “I can show you the worl-”

But Brain clapped his hand over Pinky’s mouth while wearing an indignant frown. “Don’t.” The smaller mouse spat.

As the drone flew through an open window in the office building, the mice were immediately greeted by the company CEO, Nora Rita Norita. The businesswoman brought out a pair of scissors, cutting through the net. Upon liberation, the mice fell down onto one of the leather chairs facing the front of her desk.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen. Thank you for taking the time to meet with me.” Ms. Norita addressed.

“Frankly I would have preferred some prior notification about this emergency meeting, such as an email or a text message, as opposed to being captured in a drone and flown over against my will, but here we are.” Brain soured.

“Are we in trouble?” Pinky asked worriedly. The taller mouse paced back and forth on the chair as he started to panic. “I swear I didn’t do anything wrong! I’m innocent, I tell you! Innocent! You can’t make me go back to the big house!”

“No, I can assure you that you’re not in any serious trouble.” The CEO told the buck-toothed mouse.

Pinky was immediately relieved by the news. “Oh thank goodness.” He sighed. “Sorry if I got a little carried away there.”

“A little?” Brain snapped sardonically.

“Gentlemen,” Ms. Norita curtly alerted the mice, who gave her their undivided attention. “I’ve called you here because I have an important task for you to complete over the weekend. I have a very important business conference with some very important people in the Warner Brother’s office and I don’t want the Warner children to cause any problems. And since I became aware of your friendly rapport with the Warners, I have decided to give you two the important task of watching over the Warners starting tomorrow afternoon, where you will take care of them outside of the movie studio until Sunday evening.”

Pinky stood up and cheered. “Oh, we’re going to have so much fun with the little angels over the weekend!”

Brain, on the other hand, was shocked that the CEO would disrupt his regular routine and plans for world domination, one of the few things he had complete control over.

The CEO confidently smiled, happy that at least one of them was on board. “And to sweeten the offer, I already booked a nearby hotel with five-star accommodations and you can use the company credit card for any additional payments over the weekend that aren’t related to world domination.” She said, showcasing the golden credit card. Pinky’s eyes glistened as he gazed at the card, clearly enamored by how shiny it was. Brain, however, let out a defeated groan since he couldn’t use the card for his own selfish purposes.

Ms. Norita continued to speak. “I sent you all the information in an email, and-”

“Why are you assigning us to complete this task?” Brain interrupted.

“Because I noticed how well you and your partner get along with the Warners.” The CEO answered with feigned enthusiasm. “And who can do a better job at watching those troublesome kids than people who could put up with their antics.”

Brain cringed when she referred to the energetic kids as mere troublemakers. He genuinely enjoyed being around the Warners ever since the original run of Animaniacs. He recalled the days where he and Pinky spared some of their free time to check in on the Warners. From sharing the same table during lunch hour to visiting them in their home in the water tower before sunset, when the mice had to leave for Acme Labs. Even though the kids had a knack for craziness, the Warners were genuinely good kids who craved validation and attention.

But despite being on good terms with the children, Brain was far too upset that his usual schedule had been suddenly modified by a force outside of his control. He didn’t want another chance to take over the world to skip off into the sunset.

“But Pinky and I already have plans for the weekend!” Brain argued. “And besides, shouldn’t you recruit a more qualified candidate like Bugs Bunny?”

“He’s busy filming for the Looney Tunes Cartoons and the new Space Jam movie.” Ms. Norita explained. “And what, may I ask, did you have planned for the weekend that’s so important to you?” She asked dryly.

“We were going to take over the world by making a crafts YouTube channel for the little kiddies!” Pinky answered.

“I think you can put your little pet project on hold,” Ms. Norita explained to the smaller mouse. “So I suggest you accept the task like the grown-up that you are or I’ll fire you, inform the press it was a matter of ‘creative differences’ and have Edgwin on board as your replacement.”

The two mice exchanged shocked and horrified glances at the sheer audacity the CEO had for even considering the idea of messing with their brilliant chemistry.

“Why would you do something so cruel!?” Pinky remarked, but Brain gently took the taller mouse’s hands into his own.

“Please, ignore my partner’s outburst, for I’m more than happy to cancel my weekend plans!” Brain exclaimed with a nervous chuckle. “After all, we do have the previous child-rearing experience, making us more than qualified for the job!”

“That’s what I like to hear.” The CEO got up from her desk and walked over to the door, opening it up and gesturing the two mice to make their leave. “Have a fun weekend.”

Brain grabbed Pinky by the hand and they made their jump from the chair onto the floor. The pudgy mouse tugged his lanky partner as they exited her office.

Once the mice were gone, Nora Rita Nortita retrieved her cell phone, scrolled through her contacts until she found the name she was looking for.

Inside the water tower, Wakko and Dot were watching a competitive baking show on Netflix while Yakko was snug in his ball pit bed, watching a shounen anime that Wakko constantly infodumped on his tablet while eating a bag of potato chips. While he initially watched the show so he could better connect with his sibling, the eldest Warner became emotionally invested in the story. As the big fight scene was about to start, he felt his smartphone vibrate in his pocket. The eldest Warner fished out his phone, saw Nora Rita Nortita’s picture on the home screen. He pressed pause on his tablet and quickly answered the call.

“Yello, Warner residence! Totally responsible young adult Yakko Warner speaking!” He answered, trying to sound as mature as possible.

“Hi, this is Nora Rita Norita.” The CEO answered. “And I have some rather exciting news to deliver.”

“Oh?” Yakko replied in a casual tone.

“As you may know, I will be holding an incredibly important conference this weekend, so I assigned Pinky and The Brain to watch over you and your siblings at a five-star hotel this weekend.”

“Really!?” Yakko asked with child-like enthusiasm. “Pinky and The Brain are taking us to a fancy hotel this weekend! Oh man, that’s fantastic news!”

Wakko and Dot paused their show and immediately rushed over to their brother’s bedside upon hearing the words ‘Pinky’, ‘The Brain’ and ‘fancy hotel’.

“The mice will pick you up tomorrow in front of the water tower at noon, and you better not come back to the studio lot at any point before Sunday evening.” The CEO informed him.

“You kidding? We rarely get to hang out with those guys, considering how busy they are trying to take over the world. So we intend to cherish every waking second with those two!” Yakko answered.

“Great,” Norita drawled. “I’m sure the five of you will have a grand old time this weekend. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a power-meeting to attend.”

Yakko heard the phone click on the other end, but he was too excited by the news to care about the CEO’s rude behavior. “Hey sibs! We’re spending the weekend with Pinky and the Brain!” The eldest Warner proclaimed. Wakko and Dot cheered uproariously, bouncing up and down with excitement.

“Say, do you two remember during the original run of Animaniacs when those two would usually hang out with us on the studio lot whenever we weren’t filming for the show?” Yakko asked his siblings, feeling rather nostalgic.

“Like how we’d sit at the same table at the commissary during lunchtime and they’d swing by the water tower?” Wakko reminisced. “Or how Pinky would make us bowls of macaroni and cheese, and Brain would read me my favorite picture books!” He reached into their hat and took out The Very Hungry Caterpillar and If You Give a Mouse a Cookie.

“Or the times I’d give Pinky makeovers, and how we would pester Brain into taking us to McDonald’s!” Dot added as she eagerly clapped her hands.

“Ah, those were the days!” Wakko blissfully sighed.

“And not only do we get to relive those days again, but we’ll be staying at a luxury hotel! It’ll be like having a weekend-long sleepover!” Dot exclaimed.

“Well sibs, I think it’s best if we start packing!” Yakko declared. The three siblings immediately took out their suitcases and began to pack away their essentials for their weekend vacation.

Yakko put in a dozen pairs of brown slacks into his brown suitcase. Wakko took the refrigerator and stuffed it into their blue suitcase. Dot placed her finest attire into her purple suitcase.

As the Warners continued to pack, they fondly remembered the good times during the original run of Animaniacs. While Yakko, Wakko, and Dot were mostly on their own, there were a handful of adults who spent quality time with them. Bugs Bunny, Slappy Squirrel, and Pinky and The Brain were their usual suspects. Bugs and Slappy usually entertained the kids with stories from the golden age of their careers and gave them helpful advice on thriving in the industry. Pinky and The Brain, however, proved to be a rare exception, since they’re genetically-altered lab mice and not technically toons. Regardless of their status, the mice would usually check in on the kids, make friendly conversation and share gossip, and indulge in their interests. But the mice always made sure to leave before the twilight, since they had to return to the lab and develop their schemes for world domination. And, like Bugs and Slappy, the mice never talked down to them and always treated them with kindness and respect.

The Warners were eager to spend quality time with the mice once again.

- - - - -

By the time evening rolled around, the mice returned to Acme Labs. When they arrived in their humble abode in the green cage, Brain decided to take some time to cope with the drastic change in his routine schedule by engaging in his deep breathing exercise. During his moments of self-reflection, Pinky looked on at his partner with loving eyes, proud that he was applying the techniques he learned from therapy through his own volition. The lanky mouse then put on his frilly green apron and scurried outside the cage to make his world-famous no-bake cheesecake for his roommate.

Once Brain completed his mindful exercise, he came to the realization that he can make the most out of the weekend. He would receive some fulfillment from seeing Pinky happy. Additionally, spending time with the Warners would guarantee to bring some excitement to his nearly absent social life, and there was also the possibility that some of their antics could be a source of inspiration for potential plans for world domination. Everybody would win in this situation!

The mouse immediately went over to his tablet and began to conduct his research on the hotel and potential activities to do over the weekend. Finally accepting his role as weekend guardian, he was not going to do a sloppy job with the task he was assigned.

“What common activities do most American families engage in during the weekend?” Brain pondered aloud. “Oh, I know, a trip to the library or an afternoon at the local park,” He muttered as he jotted down his thoughts on notebook paper. Then there were activities that required monetary exchange. Knowing that he would have full access to the company credit card, he was definitely going to have a field day with treating everyone to expensive spending sprees. Trips to the mall if the kids wanted anything in particular. Even splurging on the finest toy clothes that Pinky and himself would love to add to their wardrobes. Brain was also wildly determined to have at least one fancy fine-dining experience over the weekend!

Just as Brain neared completion in devising his plans and contingency plans for the weekend, Pinky arrived, carrying a big plate of cheesecake over to the wooden spool.

“Oh Brain, I made you your favorite!” Pinky called out whilst flirtatiously fluttering his eyes.

The pudgy mouse placed his work aside and eagerly rushed over to the makeshift table, where Pinky finished setting two additional plates and silverware. The lanky mouse gave his roommate a generous slice of cheesecake before taking a smaller portion for himself. Taking a fork, Brain scooped a piece of his cheesecake and ate it. The mouse was in a state of euphoria, savoring the scrumptious dessert. After allowing the cheesecake to melt into his mouth, he swallowed the pastry and let out a contented hum.

“Pinky, your pastries are simply divine!” Brain complimented.

Pinky blushed at the praise he received. “Aw Brain, I’m just happy that you like my cooking. Zort!”

Brain took a napkin and wiped away the crumbs from the sides of his mouth. He decided to engage in some amiable small talk. “So Pinky, are you looking forward to our mini-vacation tomorrow?”

“Oh yes! I’m going to have a fun-fun, silly-willy time watching over the kids!” The lanky mouse cheered. But his grin slowly faded into a worrisome frown. “But Brain, while I was preparing the cheesecake, Jerry the Gerbil dropped by and he told me that the scientists were planning a big, month-long separation experiment starting Saturday!”

“A month-long separation experiment?” Brain repeated with great concern.

Pinky nodded. “He said that the scientists would take some of the rodents that roomed together and place them in different parts of the lab, where they would write about our emotions and stuff!”

“That’s terrible news.” Brain remarked. “And what serendipitous timing…”

“What do you mean, Brain?” Pinky inquired. He was surprised to see his roommate take his hands into his own.

“Since we’ve been tasked to supervise the Warners over the weekend, we needn’t worry about the experiment.” Brain consoled his roommate as he caressed Pinky’s hands. “We would be outside of the lab during the beginning phase of the experiment and by the time we return, the scientists would have already selected the other poor souls residing in the lab as their test subjects, and we would avoid any emotional trauma that would come from participating in the cruel test in its entirety.”

“Oh, that’s a relief!” Pinky sighed.

“So there’s no need to dwell on such things, Pinky.” Brain soothed. “Try to divert all of your energy and attention on preparing for our little trip.”

“Right-o!” Pinky concurred with renewed enthusiasm. The mouse released himself from Brain’s hold and retrieved his floral printed suitcase.

“Now make sure to pack all your essentials,” Brain commanded. “I have a feeling that we are about to have an unforgettable weekend.”

AN: Another quick chapter that’s essentially build-up for what’s to come. When it came to writing Brain’s initial refusal to take the job, I felt like having him freak out over not having control over his regular routine is more in-character to him, plus with the added stakes of the CEO threatening to fire him. So he just swallows his pride and tries to make the most out of the situation.

I also included one of my other headcanons where The Warners had a handful of toon guardians who checked in on them on a regular basis (Pinky and the Brain, Slappy Squirrel, Bugs Bunny) because they’re well aware of how poorly the industry treats people like them and they want to make sure that the kids are okay.

Jerry the Gerbil was actually a reference to the Pinky and The Brain episode ‘The Family That Poits Together, Narfs Together’. We don’t see him at all, but Brain and Pinky reference him. Plus it seemed like the most logical choice to have Pinky get the news of the experiment from another rodent in the lab. And yes, this plot point will come back into play later in the story.

And I also wanted to have a scene where Pinky makes cheesecake for Brain, as a nice little nod to Future Brain (which is easily my favorite segment from the reboot) and I love the idea of Pinky baking food for Brain, and it gave me a great excuse to write some domestic bliss between the two!

And I want to give a special thanks to @themurphyzone for beta reading this chapter!

The next chapter will be considerably longer, so it may take a bit to post it up, but it’s full of fluff and fun bonding scenarios.

Thanks for reading!

#animaniacs #pinky and the brain #fanfiction #brain #pinky #yakko warner #wakko warner #dot warner

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unholyplumpprincess · 3 years

Text

Long Distance Blues

Commission for someone who does not want to be tagged.

Summary: Reader/Mirage with Mirage out in the games and becoming champion and getting a nude as a ‘congrats’ and ending with video chat sex. Cause that’s long distance babey. First part to my other fic ‘Sleepyhead’.

(Older content)

Reblogs > Likes. It costs zero dollars to reblog but makes my day :D

!!!Minors and ageless blogs dni or you will be blocked!!!

Fandom: Apex Legends

Relationship: Reader/Mirage

Warnings: R18+/NSFT, PWP, Reader is gender neutral but has a vulva, mutual masturbation, sexting, video sex, long distance relationship, aaaaand toy usage!

Words: 2.3k

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The Apex Games made it hard for someone like you, who was in a relationship with one of the infamous legends, to be able to really have alone time anytime soon with them. Elliott ‘Mirage’ Witt was the apple of your eye, and many others who were fans. He was beautiful in the arena and in interviews, cocky and full of smiles and dimples and all over was a nice person to watch and interact with. He had his insecurities, he had his faults, and yet still smiled every day.

Yet, on days like this, you miss him more and more.

The season had started about a month or so ago, and he wouldn’t be coming back to you for another day or two, depending on how long they keep them for a meeting to schedule the next season and new rules. You severely missed waking up to him in the morning to find him cooking breakfast, or seeing him pull the blanket higher when you gently tried to shake him awake.

You missed the little things already like pushing his curls back from his face and kissing his forehead, or him blushing and laughing at you when you called him cute.

~Rest under the cut~

You sigh on the couch, fresh out of your shower and rolled onto your side. Your TV shows the live streams of the Apex games while you tune out the announcers. That is, until they’re beginning to announce the legends coming into the battle.

Mirage’s team consists of Bangalore and Wraith, and you already know he’s going to be acting a fool with the two love birds.

He’s as big of a show off for the cameras as ever on the drop ship, winking before snapping his goggles into place and posing dramatically as Wraith shoves him playfully and Anita rolls her eyes big and hard dramatically. They all make a killer squad, that much you know. All of them together were deadly, but with all their skills combined?

You smile at the screen when the camera pans back to him and he blows a kiss at the camera before making a heart with his fingers and jumping off the ship with Bangalore and Wraith in tow. You sigh a bit like a newly in love teen, snuggling deeper into your pillows and hugging the hoodie around you. It was one of his, warm and soft with the Apex logo on the back.

The games aren’t really your thing. You just don’t get excited about the blood and warfare they commit against each other. You’re much more into it for the banter when the cameras can pick up the audio or tap into the comms that they all have. Of course, you watch it to support your partner as well, but honestly it’s quite funny to hear them all during the beginning portions of the matches. Or towards the middle where they’re all trying to find each other.

Down to ten squads and it changes camera focus a few times to how the teams are so split off in different areas. With the ring approaching, it makes for a smaller field, smushing them closer together. The camera pans to your partner’s squad, the squad kill count being ‘five’ on the screen as voices are picked up. “Yeah but can you really blame me?” Comes your partner’s voice, zooming in closer to him leaning back against a wall as Bangalore leans around the corner to check for any movement.

“When it comes to jokes,” Comes Wraith’s voice on the other end, the camera watching her lying prone on the rooftop and eye focused on her scope. “You really are terrible with them. Get better material.” Her lips quirking up as she finishes her playful statement.

The camera flicks back to Elliott, who holds a hand dramatically over his heart and points up at the ceiling with his gun approximately where she’s at. “Hey! Take that back! I’m funny- Bangalore?”

Only for him to get a look from the woman and a one shouldered shrug. “On a stage full of clowns you’d look right at home.”

“Yeah!” Elliott chimes in as they begin to move, only to pause, a funny look on his face as he processes her insult. “Hey!!!”

You smile big at the screen as it flips to the next set of legends. Leave it to your Elliott to be the crowd favorite in tense times like this.

They end up winning as champions. Anita takes the kill count to the highest of six people in grand total, Elliott comes close with five, but Wraith takes last with three kills under her belt but more hits and accuracy. All three of them look proud, with Elliott’s arms around his favorite ladies and beaming brightly before the broadcast is cut out and the next channel pulls up. You immediately turn off the TV, grabbing your phone to text him.

You debate on just letting him know he did a good job and what you found were highlights, but your texts from this morning catch your eye. Elliott mentioning how horny he was and how he missed you. You bite your bottom lip as you consider your options.

Tell him he did a good job and you’re going to bed, ooooor reward him with a job well done?

A sly smile catches your lips as you immediately begin to pose, lying out on the couch and catching the bottom of the hoodie between your teeth as you bring it up. Showing off your chest as you grab one of your breasts and pose the camera so it can view your body from lips down to about your knees. Showing off soft curves and the softness around your middle, your little short pajama shorts hiding everything else.

You send it with the caption ‘Good job out there, baby! Want a sneak peek before you come home? <3’

He must still be out at the ceremony because when he does check his phone, the message pops up as ‘read!’ but then nothing else. You laugh as you try to picture his face, startled and open as he scrambles to shut the message.

You take the time to take a few more with varying poses and angles, always making sure to make it blatantly obvious you were in his hoodie. Ending up migrating to the bedroom so you could get comfier on your shared bed- and take pictures using the mirrors spanning the closet doors.

You take one you’re really proud of. Stripping out of your shorts and underwear, dragging the hoodie’s bottom down to between your thighs as you sit on your knees and splay out your bare legs. You bite your bottom lip, peeking up and at the mirror as you take the picture.

As you hit send is when the rest start reading as read. He replies back to you, saying that he just made it to his room, lots of him going ‘holy shit’ and then soon enough, you got a picture back.

It’s of him, lying on his bed with a hand pulling his sweatpants down to show the dark curls between his thighs and a tent in his pants. He captions it ‘Look how hard you’ve gotten me’ with a crying emoji and you can’t help laughing a bit but eyeing him up.

He looked so good with the warm light of the lamp illuminating his warm flesh. His shirt is pulled up just enough to show off his mid-riff and you can see the bit of a wet spot on the front of his pants juuuuust enough. He was always so sensitive, seemed to be even now without your touch he was already so willing and wanting.

After a few more heated exchanges is when you finally turn on your computer and pull up the video chat. Calling him and watching him immediately pick up on his own laptop. Elliott’s curls are a mess, his sweatpants are tugged down to mid-thigh and his hand is around his cock as he strokes languidly. Watching your eyes follow his hand as he laughs softly, “Hey there yourself.”

You, who was lying on your side, lower half off camera but one arm disappeared below the screen to show you were obviously touching yourself. You hum instead at him, smiling idly and bringing your hand up to make a show of licking your fingers off just to hear him hiss.

“Fuck- babe. Look at you. Come on, spread your legs, let me see.” He all but whines at you and you almost raise a brow. Taking control? That wasn’t normally his way of things. But, Elliott was also riding the high of being champion. You’ll indulge him.

For now.

You push back the laptop to show off your whole body, watching as his eyes greedily drink you in and his hand squeezes a bit harder at the base of his cock. Elliott was putting on quite a show as you slide up onto your knees. Letting your body chest down be seen as you spread your thighs open slowly, letting him get a good look at how wet you were. Glistening and flushed as you use two fingers to spread open your cunt to show him even more of you.

“Shit,” He hisses out, eyes hungrier than ever as you watch his tongue flick out over his lips. You just know he wants to taste you, you know damn well what that mouth can do. Your clit jerks at the motion and he all but whines at you. “I can’t wait to be home.”

You make a show of sliding two of your fingers down, catching your clit in the crook of them and rubbing until you’re perked and ready. Soon lowering and curling two fingers in yourself, your other hand grabbing at your breast and toying with your nipple just to watch his eyes flutter. But, before he can come up with another cocky thing, tell you what to do, you coo at him, “What a good boy. Do you like watching me?”

Just those few words ‘good boy’, that makes his entire facial features change. Elliott goes from hungry predator to flustered immediately, cheeks and ears red as his head falls back briefly to stroke himself a little faster. With the upper hand now on your side, you coo again to him.

“Don’t you want to watch me, baby boy?” You murmur softly, worried it doesn’t catch on the mic at first until his head near immediately zips back up to watch you. His hand is stuttering on his cock, as if he doesn’t want to cum too early as he squeezes at the base. His cock is shiny from lube, you assume, or saliva. Flushed and hard and bobbing back against his abdomen when he lets go to adjust his laptop a bit.

“Fuck yourself? Please?” Elliott all but sobs for you as you tease your own cunt with your fingers. You eye the toy you’d set on the bed beside you anyway, a rabbit vibrator you dearly loved. You think about putting on a strap on too, stroking it like he is his cock and telling him how you’d fuck him raw if he was here.

You’ll let him have this much.

When you go off screen briefly, you can hear him whine your name. But, you’re back quick enough, crawling back onto your knees and leaning back to give him a better angle. You use your own slick to lube up the head of the pink vibrator, carefully easing it into you with a bit of a huff from yourself at the tight fit. But, once snugly inside, you crank it up halfway and press the rabbit’s ears just right to frame your clit.

From there, it’s watching each other. With his hand moving in sync to how you thrust the toy inside of you. It didn’t matter if you sped up or slowed down, he was right in beat with you. No matter how hard he shook when you slowed down just to grind on your toy and moan lowly for him.

Eventually you can’t watch him, having to lie down on your back as you thrust the toy into you. Covering your mouth and tossing your head back to muffle noises. You hear him beside you, moaning and whining for you like the good boy he is. You hear him murmur about how beautiful you are, how he couldn’t wait to taste you again.

You cry out as you cum, shaking and the hand covering your mouth now grabbing at your own hair. You must look a mess, despite thrusting the toy still readily into your throbbing, twitching cunt. You can hear his breath quickening, hear him whine, “I want to fuck you s-so bad- badly- want to cum all over your fu- fucki- fucking face-”

He’s a stuttering, shaky mess when you peek over. Just to see his head thrown back and biting into his fist as his cock beautifully jerks and twitches in his grasp. Streaking white ribbons across his abdomen and the bottom of his shirt that reaches up too high. Elliott’s flushed, red in the cheeks and his hand stopping its stroking, loosening his fist as his eyes, glassy and wet turn to look at you.

You smile at him, lying on your side with your cheeks equally flushed. “Just a few more days, baby.” You promise him.

Tiredly, he nods back, laughing softly before groaning. “Ugh, I need a shower- you headed to bed?”

Sleepily, you offer a ‘mmhm’ as your eyes get heavy. Just in time to hear him say that he loves you as the world goes dark.

You’ll deal with your cum soaked toy in the morning.

#Mirage #Mirage x Reader #apex legends #apex lemons #lemon #nsft #commissions #princess writing

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wordsfromthesol · 4 years

Text

Replacement (1/2)

Author: @wordsfromthesol Pairing: Tim Drake x Reader Warnings: Language, violence Word Count: 2.2k Requested: @beebosclique A/N: Thanks for the request because I’ve been on a real Tim Drake kick lately. Which is probably why this story is so long (not sorry). Also (not) sorry for reusing superhero names in my stories…I’ve only come up with like 2 that I like. Also also, thanks for the love 💛💛

Part Two

You had no real memories of your life at the circus, you were only three years old when Bruce Wayne took you in. He and Dick were the only family you knew, well until Jason came into the picture. Jason, unlike Dick, realized that you could take care of yourself. In fact, Jason often sparred with you and secretly taught you as Bruce and Dick taught him. When he died you begged to take over the Robin mantle. You knew there needed to be one, Bruce would go too far, you were even worried Dick would go to far. Tim becoming Robin was the final punch in the gut you needed. They would never allow you to be in the family business, no matter how prepared for it you were. The day Tim passed the gauntlet was the same day you finished your costume. That day Eclipse was born and she quickly made a name for herself, all while avoiding Tim Drake, both at home and in the field.

Jason returned and the Robin mantle got passed once again. You didn’t even ask for it this time. Your silence is what led Jason to discovering your secret identity. You had to admit, it was nice to finally have someone to talk to about it, someone to patch you up if you ever got too injured.

“Y/N/N, I don’t get why you won’t just tell them.”

“Because Dick would murder me. He wouldn’t let me be Robin, you think he would be okay with me going out there solo?”

“Yeah, but it would make my life way easier, especially when you need your shoulder reset.” Jason shook his head and mumbled, “can’t believe you waited until morning to come to me.”

“You know if you tell him, he’ll kill you.”

“Hm, well I’ve tried that. Didn’t like it too much, so I guess I’m stuck.”

You nodded at Jason, bracing yourself for the pain. “Shit…” you mumbled as you felt the joint jolt back into place.

“You do remember that I’m your older brother too, right? I don’t like you going out by yourself either.”

“Yes and I have you on speed dial every time I’m out there.” You sighed, trying to give him some reassurance. “Plus…if my vitals drop below a certain point, my suit automatically sends a message straight to Dick and Bruce explaining everything. I can’t override it.”

“Still doesn’t make me feel great, especially since you probably have the settings set to when you’re dead.” You just stuck your tongue out in response. “So I didn’t hear Tim or Damian on that list…”

“Well, I barely know the demon brat. It’s been like a year since he stumbled into our lives, plus he’s a child.”

“Fair enough. You know you can’t blame Tim.”

“I’m not…blaming.”

Jason threw his hands up in defense, “If you say so.” Jason peripheral vision caught Tim’s figure and a smirk grew on his face. “Hey Timbers!” He shouted as you whipped around, hoping Jason was just joking. He wasn’t. “Y/N here could use a sparring partner. Someone to teach her the ropes.” You looked back at Jason, an angry glare in your eyes.

“She…uh…she wants me to teach her…?”

“Well I would love to Timbo, but I promised…uh…Dick that I would help him out.” Tim eyebrow’s shot up, clearly not believing his brother’s lies, before he turned towards you looking for clarification.

“That would be great Tim.” You gritted through your teeth, trying not to sound sarcastic. “Let me just go change.” You shot daggers back at Jason before scampering off. Tim waited until you faded from view before speaking again.

“You know she hates me, right Jay?”

“She doesn’t hate you. She hates what you took from her.”

“I didn’t take anything of hers.” Jason looked at his brother, solemnly.

“Tim. This…” Jason gestured around him, “has been her whole life. Don’t you think she wanted to be Robin? To prove that she belonged in this family.” Jason quickly dropped the serious demeanor. He was never very good at it anyways. “I think once she sees the real you, not the Robin you. She’ll come around replacement!” Jason’s eye caught you in the doorway. He jogged up next to you, “Remember to see past Robin.” He winked at you before leaving the two of you alone.

“Well that was weird.” Tim commented, gesturing you towards him.

“Eh. Jay only pretends not to care about family.” You brushed off the comment as you took your stance.

Hours went by, and your shoulder was well beyond it’s limit…something Tim noticed and used to pin you down one final time.

“Alright, I think you’re done.” He clamored as he held out a hand to help you up. A hand which you denied. “What did you do to your shoulder anyways? Need me to look at it?”

“It’s fine. I’m fine.” You swatted his hand away.

“Y/N/N!” You heard Dick’s voice in the distance.

“Don’t tell him anything.” You mumbled to Tim, before turning to greet your brother. “Dickie! Tim was just showing me some new moves.”

Dick stopped at your side, “Tim…you let Tim teach you?” Even Dick was in disbelief. You just shrugged, not offering a response. “Well I was looking for you to let you know I took the night off! I don’t have to leave after dinner.”

“Ohh…” You stammered, “I…uh…I have plans. With Ellen. Mo…movies.”

“Awe, can’t you cancel? I need time with my little sister.”

“I…I so would. But she’s going through this tough time. Her, uh, her boyfriend just broke up with her and…I just I need to be there.”

“Fine,” Dick whined out. “But we’re still on for the diner, right?”

“Of course. Wouldn’t miss it.” You pressed a kiss to Dick’s cheek before running out of the room. You were never good at lying to your brother and thankfully, due to his nightly activities, you rarely had to. Grabbing your phone, you quickly sent Ellen a text, just in case Dick decided to fact check you. Only it wasn’t Dick you needed to worry about. Dick would never believe that his baby sister was lying to him, Tim on the other hand witnessed the entire train wreck.

“I got a case to work on…” Tim gestured towards the computer before leaving Dick standing in the training room alone. Tim went back and forth in his mind, but ultimately decided he would check your phone just in case you were in trouble. That’s when he saw the text message. The one you just sent to Ellen.

Hey girl, used you as a lie to Dick. If he asks we are going to the movies and you just broke up with your boyfriend.

Man you really didn’t want to hang out with your brother tonight.

Yeah, well I already had plans and didn’t want to hurt his feelings.

Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!

That doesn’t say much…

😜😜

You were finally able to ditch your brother and were posted on a rooftop, just outside a supposed new drug den.

“What are we looking at?” The sudden voice made you jump. You quickly regained composure, striking a defensive stance. “Relax…” Red Robin came out of the shadows, “I only want to help.”

You huffed at the sight but attempted to contain your discontent, “You don’t normally patrol tonight.”

“Just wanted to keep the criminals on their toes.”

“I’m sure they’re shaking in their boots…to answer your question, I think it’s a new drug den. Followed someone here a few days ago.”

“Well, why aren’t we moving on it?”

“I’m waiting for someone.”

“And that would be…?”

“Someone who still has a choice. If you’re staying, I’m on channel 3.” You commented before dropping into the alley below. Red Robin moved to follow but stopped once he heard your voice come through his comm. “Stay there. We move when I say.” He looked down watching you corner someone.

“Jake.” You calmly called out towards the man. He spun around, realizing he was now stuck in the alley. “What are you doing here?”

“I just…I need money. My baby girl…I don’t have a choice.”

“You always have a choice. I’m about to give you another one.”

“I can’t –” You cut him off.

“I’m not asking for anything regarding those idiots.” You gestured towards the drug den. “This is a choice for you. You can leave right now and trust that I’m going to help you. Or you can go in there and warn them that I’m coming. Maybe they’ll overpower me and maybe you’ll be rewarded for the tip. But think about the life that that leads to. You’re better than that life.”

“How…how would you know that?”

“Because I saw the desperation in your eyes a few nights ago. Then I did some digging. That was your first deal.”

“My daughter.”

“I always thought I never had a choice. I was groomed for this life and then it was held just beyond my reach. I was stuck until I made a different path for myself. Now I try to give that opportunity to others. People who thought they had run out of options.”

Tim was stuck in a trance as he watched this Jake character run the opposite way of the drug den. Eclipse was you; you had just made that painfully obvious. Though he wondered if you intended that or if your mind was set on helping Jake. Suddenly he was shaken from his mental state as your voice came over his comm yet again. “I’m going in the back door. Meet me there if you still want to help.”

You didn’t wait for his response, but noticed a shadowy figure following just above you. The two of you got to the door at the same time, Red Robin spoke first. “I’ll take left.” Tim wanted your sore shoulder exposed as little as possible.

“Your shoulder looks pretty bad…”

“It’ll be fine.” You tried to ignore the searing pain as the two of your waited for the police to come round up all the men.

“Do you want me to take a look?”

“No.”

“Do you at least want some high strength pain killers? I can bring some by –”

“Why are you insistent on helping?”

Red Robin shrugged, “Guess us vigilantes gotta stick together.”

“Right. I’m more of a solo gig kinda vigilante.” You saw a smirk graze his face as you heard the sirens approaching. “And that’s my queue.” You gestured towards the sound and bounded out the door. This is Tim. Tim Drake. He stole Robin from you. The words resonated through your head as you tried to forget tonight. It felt different. Or maybe Jason was right…

Once you got to your secret apartment, you showered and attempted a self-evaluation on your shoulder. You jumped upon hearing the sound of tapping against the glass. Shit. You raced into the bedroom, grabbing your discarded mask and throwing it on before sauntering into the living room.

“What do you want?” You questioned Red Robin’s presence as you opened the window.

“Thought you might want these.” He said, tossing you a bottle of pills. “Also, it would probably help if you wear this for a couple days.” Tim held out a sling.

“Yeah, can’t do that.”

“Hm. It’ll take twice as long to heal if you don’t.” He walked over, inspecting the bruising already forming on your shoulder. “This definitely didn’t happen tonight.”

“It was reset this morning.” You glanced at the time, 3:20am, “Well I guess yesterday morning. It’ll be fine.”

“Alright alright,” Tim held up his hands in defense before reaching into one of his pockets. “Well I know you’re a solo vigilante and all…but if you need me.” Tim placed a card and sling in your hand. Before you could respond he was out the window.

You decided it was probably best to wear the sling. Now all you needed was a lie for why you weren’t staying at the Manor.

It had only been a few hours before you woke up clouded in smoke. A fire raged around you. Maybe Tim wasn’t the only one who had followed you home. You shot up, immediately donning your mask and throwing your suit into a nearby duffel bag. Running around, you attempted to start collecting your equipment and paper trails as your phone dialed Jason. No answer. You then tried the comm in your mask, no answer. Shit. I’m going to have to call Tim.

“Eclipse?” The voice sounded groggy on the other end.

“Yeah so…I may be in some trouble.”

“Shit. Your apartment?”

“Yeah.” You jumped out of the way as the kitchen beam collapsed.

“What was that?!”

“Just…let me know when you’re here.”

You ignored his plea to stay on the line and focused on fastening everything to your body. This is going to hurt. You freed your arm from the sling and stepped onto the window ledge. Unfortunately, you were right. Tim was not the only person to follow you tonight, and this person wanted you dead. They were waiting for you to leap from that window. You didn’t even make it to the pavement before you heard the gun fire.

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the-mighty-jellybean · 4 years

Text

Till The Final Bullet

Series Summary: “In a place where they won't let us feel, In a place where nothing seems real. I will hold you. In a world that’s moving too fast. In a world where nothing can last. I will hold you.”-Last Night of The World- Miss Saigon

From the age of twelve, Y/N Y/L/N, has been trained by Hydra, and used as an assailant for a number of years. She’s been taught not to feel, but when she’s put in a kill squad with the Winter Solider, their partnership is deadly, as their motivation becomes more than just keeping themselves alive.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Series Warning: Angst, Fluff, Strong Language, Eventual Smut, Dark!Bucky (I think??) (18+ Only)

Part One//

Part Two: Are We Bad People?

Chapter Warnings: Violence, Strong Language, Rumlow gets a bit aggressive

Word Count: 3.1k

“We have reason to believe that Director Fury, has obtained a hard drive containing important information about Project Insight.” Pierce stood in front of you and James, as he began to give details about your latest mission. “Your mission is to remove Director Fury from the picture.”

“He will leave the Triskelion, at fifteen hundred hours, I want him permanently removed by sixteen hundred. Am I understood?”

“Yes, Sir.” You and James chorused; saluting, before walking to your weapons lock.

~~~

“You ready for this?” James asked you, as you secured your belt of explosives, and checked your two magnums that were strapped to your thighs.

“I’m sure we can handle it.” You say over your shoulder. You feel James pressing himself against you, and you just smirk and shake your head.

“You’re playing with fire, Sargent.”

“You would never burn me.” He responds slyly. You push him away, grabbing the keys to your armoured truck.

“Get in soldier, otherwise it won’t be me smoking your ass.” You chide sliding into the driver’s seat. James quickly joined you.

~~~~~

You sat in a layby, waiting for your signal. You were watching the people crossing the street in front of you, and the cars that zipped past every now and then. You couldn’t help but feel eyes on you, as you stared out the windscreen. You turned to the passenger seat of your truck, only to be met with the steal blue eyes of your partner.

“What are you lookin at?” you smirk, turning away from him.

“You.” He responds simply.

“Why?” you chuckle.

“Because you’re the only thing worth looking at.” You shake your head at his cheesy comment, your eyes dropping to check the time, on the truck’s dashboard.

15:05

“They should have called us in by now.” You mutter, glancing at your own watch, where it read the same time.

“Aw, what you aren’t enjoying my company?” James pouts at you.

“Not when you’re just staring at me, like some creep.” You laugh, finally turning back to him.

“You like it when I stare at you like this.” James gives you one of his looks that makes your heart flutter slightly.

You don’t have time to respond, as you soon hear the echo of a single police siren, bounce off the skyscrapers.

“Show time.” You sigh, putting the truck into gear, and bursting out of the small alley way, narrowly missing a few pedestrians.

James begins to get a little shiftier, that was always his way, when a mission was starting to get more tense, you knew now was not the time to be flirty, but to be serious. He put his face mask on, and his goggles. Despite his change in mood, he helped you to put your mask on whilst you kept your eyes focused on the road.

“Vehicle 342, this is Red Fox, what is your location?” you press the button of your coms, and the radios response is fuzzy at first, before it clears giving you a location.

You were heading towards the area.

You flicked a switch on the dashboard, which gave you access to all the channels, you now had around 20 people yelling in your car.

“We’ve immobilised the Target.”

“We are using rapid fire on his vehicles plating.”

You role your eyes, before jabbing the button aggressively; “the vehicles got armoured plating you, jackass. No bullets are going to penetrate it. You’re just wasting your ammo, use the pressure canon.”

You swerve through the road, zig zagging in and out of cars, you can still hear the other operatives, over the coms yelling incoherently to one another. Then one clear channel breaks through them all.

“Subject has fire arm, repeat subject has fir-“ the transmission is cut short, before it is continued by a second operative.

“Subject is on the move, heading towards 22nd Street.”

You glanced at your navigation screen, watching the streets passing you.

“Leave it to us. Just steer him towards the intersection.”

You turned the wheel sharply, James grasping the side of the car, you managed to swerve an oncoming truck, and pressed your foot on the gas, the peddle going to the floor, as you weaved your way through the oncoming traffic.

You can hear car horns, and screeching of tires up ahead, and you slam on the breaks, putting the truck into a spin, before it stops just short of a large stretch of road.

In the distance you can see the two HYRDA vehicles persuing the black four by four.

James dove out the car before you, grabbing his rocket launcher, and began to walk out into the middle of the road.

He calmly walked towards the speeding car, firing the disc that skimmed across the surface of the road, then attaching itself to the bottom of the car, before imploding.

The force of the explosion causes the car to flip over, and you hold your breath, as James side stepped out of the way at the last second. You watch the four-wheel drive land on its roof, and skid across the road before coming to a crumpled stop. You join James by his side and begin to advance towards the wreckage.

Your gun is poised in your hands, you hold it up to your face, and nod your head, when James looks to you, asking you silently if you were ready.

Using his metal arm, he ripped what was left of the car door clean off of the frame word. You get ready to strike, but you huff, when you see a large hole, with smouldering edges, through the tarmac of the floor.

“What the fuck?!”

~~~~~

“I thought you said you could handle this, Sargent Barnes and Major Y/L/N.” you lowered your head a little, as Pierce spat at you in disapproval.

“We’re sorry, Sir. We thought we had him, but-“

“But nothing, Major Y/L/N. You failed me!” He punctuates his sharp words with a harsh slap across your face. You can feel James tense up next to you, but try to hold your ground, taking a deep breath through your nose, and looking to James briefly, giving him a calming look. “We have intel that he’s hiding out in a property in Washington D.C.”

“Let me take this one, Secretary Pierce.” Rumlow piped up from the corner, you and James turn to look at the smug agent in the corner. He approaches The Secretary, his chest puffed out. You hear the heavy breath of air that James huffs out, but you just resort to glaring.

“No.” Pierce shot Rumlow’s suggestion down, “I want you two, to redeem yourself. Go to the apartment in D.C. scout it, and then eliminate the target. You fail again, and you’ll both be going back to reconditioning.”

You just about hide the shudder, that Pierce’s threat washes over you. You give him a sharp nod, before leaving the briefing room.

“Sargent Barnes, wait here.” You hear Pierce’s voice echo behind you. You continue to march down the hall towards the weapons room. Your steps are fuelled by rage and your own disappointment, your cheek still stung.

As you round the corner, a force knocks you into the wall, and you gasp, your back slamming against the cold stone. Your met with lifeless brown eyes, and an intense grip is on your wrists.

“What the fuck are you doing, Rumlow?” you growl, struggling in his grip. His fingers curl tighter round your wrists, and you hiss.

“You think Barnes is so much better than me, don’t you. You think that you’re so much better than me.” Rumlow spat in your face, and you could do nothing but tug at his wrists.

“What are you talking about, asshole. Get the fuck off me.” You break free of his grip, but before you can shove him away, he pins your hands to your chest.

“What do you think would happen if I told Pierce, what was going on between you and Barnes?” your eyes flash, you are stunned briefly, but snap from your panic, and you bring your knee up to his crotch.

Rumlow groans, and doubles over.

“I don’t know what the fuck you are talking about, Rumlow.” Whilst Rumlow is bent over, you bring your elbow down on his back, and he buckles onto his knees. You send one last kick to his ribs, before you quickly walk away.

You increase your pace, when the door of the weapons room becomes visible. You dive in, slamming the door behind you. Once you are sure that the room is empty, you allow your body to shake, and your eyes to sting and steam up.

The door clicks, and you sniff hard, wiping at your eyes furiously to get rid of the tears. Spinning round to face, whoever had just entered the room.

You immediately relax, when you see James standing in front of you, a sad smile on his face.

“Hey.” You said, dryly.

“Hey.” James walks towards you, wrapping his strong arms around you, falling against his chest, you let a heavy sigh fall from your lips. “You okay, doll. You’re shaking?”

“I’m okay now.” You hum, reluctantly pulling away from his arms, to grab your sniper. As you turn away, but James catches your wrist.

“Are you sure?” you just pull your wrist free, and nod your head once, before jumping in your truck.

~~~~~~

“Which floor are we supposed to be looking at?” James and you were laying on your stomachs, shoulder to shoulder. Your snipers trained on the walls of an apartment complex.

“There’s movement on the 3rd and 5th floor, but nothing on the 4th.” You explain, looking through the scope of your gun. Your eyes are following along the darkened windows, of a particular apartment on the 4th floor.

“What’s so interesting about that apartment?” James also uses his scope, to look through the blacked-out windows.

“There’s music playing, but there shouldn’t be anyone home.” You look down at the tablet, scrolling through the owners of the apartments. Stopping on a Steve Rogers, who owned the apartment you were looking at. You recognised the name, but couldn’t place it, either way according to the records in front of you, nobody should be home.

You snapped away from the tablet when a light blinks in the window of the apartment. It was as if it was giving you a signal.

“That’s the one.” You grab your sniper, and shuffle along the roof top, so that you could scan the apartment with the heat censor.

James followed you, and dropped to his stomach, scoping the windows of the room.

The navy blue of the walls filled the screen, before the yellow and red outlines of two men appeared on the screen, one of which was facing you, whilst the other had his back to you. The one, who had just entered the apartment, was clutching, what appeared to be a circular shield. The other stood from the chair, he appeared to be injured, and was slightly bent over.

“Target located.” You lifted the scope to your eye, your finger wrapping around the trigger, you line the cross of the scope, with the back of the target.

Without blinking you squeeze the trigger, you do it once more. The gun kicking back into your shoulder, as the shells burst through the wall of the building, you watch the monitor, as they strike the target, causing him to collapse.

“We need to move.” James stands, and looks down at you, but your eyes are trained up on the screen.

“Not yet, we need to make sure he stays down.” You didn’t want any room for error, not again. Pierce’s words still wove their way around your scalp, you needed to protect yourself, and James.

“We need to move, Y/N.” James was pulling at your shoulder, but you didn’t budge.

You were so focused on the target, you didn’t notice the other person enter the apartment, until she knelt by the target.

“Come on, Y/N. We need to go now.”

You had seen enough, grabbing your sniper and the tablet, you stood and took off running, James by your side.

As you crossed the rooftops, you noticed a figure following you bellow. Glancing down through the glass ceiling of a nearby building, you realised it was the second man from before, the one that was clutching the shield.

“Jay, we’re being followed.” James follows your eyeline, and spots the guy chasing you. He grabbed your sleeve, pulling you towards a dead ended roof.

A loud smashing sound from behind you, makes you throw a look over your shoulder; the man that had been chasing you, had broken through one of the windows, and now shared you escape route.

He swung his arm back, and launched his circular shield, towards the two of you.

“James!” you yell in alarm, the shield, flying towards the pair of you.

“Jump!” That’s all James says to you, the last image you see of him, before you throw yourself off the top of the roof; is James stopping and plucking the shield out of the air, like it was a paper aeroplane. He swings the shield back, before he also leaps from the roof.

He looks around him for a place to hide, you grab him by his collar, pulling him into an ally way, and pressing close to one another, until you see the man walk from the roof.

You didn’t realise you were still holding James close against you, until he cleared his throat, and jutted his eyebrows at you.

“Sorry.” You immediately let go, brushing the front of his uniform down, before walking towards your truck, that you had hidden in another ally way a few streets away.

~~~~~

“Were you successful this time, Major Y/L/N?” Pierce asked you coolly.

“Yes, Sir. Target has been erased.”

“Excellent, the two of you may retire for the night, I will speak with you both in the morning.”

You salute him, before you and James leave the command room, and head down towards the basement of the building, where your ‘rooms’ were.

“You okay?” James had been quiet since you got back from the mission, he hadn’t spoke a word to you. His eyes were a little glazed, and colder than they usually were.

“I’m fine.” He says bluntly, turning into his room, and closing the door.

You sigh heavily, but you know there is no point in pursuing the reason why he’s in such a miserable state, it wasn’t uncommon for him to become distant after a mission like this. Once you got to your room, you grab a towel and some cleaning products, and instead head towards the shower, deciding you need to cleanse yourself of the day.

Turning into the shower block, you were relieved to see it was empty, quickly turning the shower on, you stripped, then stepped in. Shivering, as the ice-cold water poured down your back.

You had been in there a while, so long that your body had become numb, and you could no longer feel the iciness of the water, that beat at your back. The water tingled as it hit your scars, it made your back feel fuzzy.

“Can I join you?” you jump almost slipping on the mouldy tiles of the shower floor, but a metal arm held you up.

“Jesus Christ, Jay.” You press your hand to your chest, heart hammering against it.

“Sorry.” He mumbled, steadying you. Your heart was still beating quickly, but your mind relaxed, when you saw the sorrowful look on his face.

“Don’t worry. And yeah, come join me.” You waved him in, you weren’t expecting him to jump in straight away, but he did. Standing under the cold water, whilst he was still fully dressed, in his combat gear.

“Don’t you want to get undressed, my love?” you hold his cheek, he avoids your eyes, and just stares at the floor. The water soaking his hair, making it flop in his face, you smooth it out of his eyes, cupping his chin so he looks at you.

“At least take your boots off, Jay.” Before he can answer, you are bending down to unlace his shoes, and holding them to the floor whilst he steps out of them. You pull his socks off, tossing both the items into the dryer area of the shower room.

You stand, and James’ face is still glum, you give him a sad smile, but soon you notice it’s not the cold water that is causing the trails of water down his cheeks.

“Oh James.” You try to pull him into your arms, but instead his legs buckle, he kneels on the floor, and wraps his arms around your hips, while he sobs into the skin of your stomach. You don’t say anything, as you know, now was not the time for you to speak. Instead, you just comb your fingers through his hair, and shush him quietly.

The two of you stay like that for a while, before James’ sobs turn to quiet sniffles, he stands up, and finally looks at you in the eye.

“Are we bad people?” his voice is hoarse and sounds tired. Your heart breaks at the sight of him, and throbs at his words.

“No James.” You move his hair from his eyes, and continue to hold his face, “we are not bad people.”

“But what we’ve done…what we do…what is it all for?” he searches your face, and for a while you don’t know how to answer, until your face softens, and you squeeze your hands tighter on the sides of his head.

“What we’ve done, and what we do; we do to stay alive. To keep each other alive.” You rub your thumb under his eye, in an attempt to rub his combat paint off, “I wouldn’t take any of it back, if it meant I lost you.”

The more of the black paint you washed away, the more you realised that the darkness under his eyes wasn’t from the paint. You didn’t notice how tired he looked, until you had moments like these, which seemed to be happening more and more.

“I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you, sweetheart.” He finally speaks, and you are relieved when he does.

“You’re never going to lose me, Jay. Never.” You press your lips under each of his eyes, before you pull back to look in his face. The ocean in his eyes looked less stormy and more like it was beginning to settle.

You weren’t sure how much longer you stayed under the water, but you didn’t care. The two of you stayed still, in your own little worlds, just holding each other close. Your body heats were providing all the warmth you needed.

Both of you content, in the other’s arms.

A/N: Writing this chapter, with Stan Lee’s voice in my head say: “Bucky’s one of good ones.”

Part Three//

Taglist:

@amanda-the-fangirl @winchester-wifey @lemonadygirl @lunagrangerweasley @omfgforthelordalmighty @hhxppyyy @furioustrashprofessorneck @sznri @mugscraps @colourforanamee @grav3dollie-666

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky fic #bucky angst #reader insert #marvel fanfiction #marvel smut #marvel movies #winter solider x y/n #winter soldier #winter soldier x reader #civil war #darkbucky #dark bucky x reader

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sanderssideswriting · 4 years

Text

Youtuber Life Chapter 2

Ships: familial sleepxiety and eventual Prinxiety

Words:???

first next

Summary: Remy Sanders is a famous beauty vlogger and just moved to LA with his teenage son Virgil after their location was leaked by fans. Remy AKA CoffeeAddiction has several million subscribers. Virgil also has a secret Drama channel, where he doesn’t show his face and uses a voice modifier. He just hit a million subs and grows more everyday because of the level of production his videos have, the mystery around who he is and the fact that he ALWAYS has the latest information regarding youtube drama.

They’d been in LA for three months now, and it was going well, Virgil was best friends with Patton, Logan and Roman. And he called Janus and Remus all the time.

Virgil had to help his dad with a video, it of course involved getting some very expensive and almost impossible to get pallet which he’d compare the stuff from a drug store. He had to get it.

Janus called him after he saw the video “hook me up bitch,” he said.

Virgil laughed “no,” he said monotone.

“Come on! You have the connections! You can get two!”

“I know, but I’m not for hire.”

“I am your best friend, hook me up.”

“Still no, get it yourself or don’t get it. I’ll mail you the leftovers if you want.”

“You better not destroy it you bitch!”

“I buy it, I don’t decide how it’s used, later loser,” Virgil hung up, with Janus screaming bloody murder.

“Hey Virgil, how did you get an A on the English essay? I’ve been trying all year to get a good grade and I’ve only ever gotten a B,” Roman said looking at his latest grades.

“Pick a point that sort of makes sense and defend it like your life depends on it,” Virgil said not looking up from his phone, Janus was spamming him about the pallet.

“And she just assigned a partner project! Partners?” Roman said in disbelief.

“Sure, I don’t want to be partners with a straight girl again, that was a disaster.”

Roman gave Virgil a questioning look.

“Wanted me to be her ‘gay best friend’”

“Want to go over to one of our houses to work on it after school?”

Virgil nodded “we can do my place, my dad won’t care.”

They of course stopped by Starbucks to get coffee. Remy called.

“Get me coffee.”

“I’m not even at Starbucks.”

“SnapMaps says otherwise, get me Starbies I’m doing a charity livestream,”

“No, I’m here with a friend.”

“Are you-? Oh my god! You are!”

“OH MY GOD NEVER IMPLY THAT AGAIN! I will get you coffee just never ask me that again!” Virgil hung up.

“Hi, I’ll get five venti iced coffees, black, and make two of them decaf.” Virgil said to the barista.

The newest video on CoffeeAddiction’s channel was about said decaf coffees and how he had been betrayed by his intern.

Dukey: Your dad is so dramatic Raccoon: I know, I’m grounded for “all of eternity” hiss hiss motherfucker: so no Office this weekend? Raccoon: I’ll be watching with you guys Raccoon: If he actually grounded me I wouldn't be able to get him the pallet Dukey: you’re dad’s really cool Raccoon: are you kidding me? I’M A FUCKING MEME Raccoon: LITERALLY, on multiple occasions people have made me a meme hiss hiss motherfucker: what are you doing for Halloween? Raccoon: Something really fucking scary, as scary as I can get without a detention anyway Dukey: My brother likes make up, I COULD tell him that YOU said that he probably couldn’t do good make up, and then his pride would take over and you’d have a challenge Raccoon: DO IT! That’ll be SO fun Dukey: already did

Roman looked up from his phone “my brother just said that you said I can’t do make up?”

“Yeah, Like sure you can make yourself have a pretty face but can you scare the shit out of people? Halloween’s in a few days.”

Roman rolled his eyes “Make up is an art! I doubt you know much emo nightmare, all you have on is that horrendous eyeshadow.”

Virgil smirked “Then it should be no worry of who will win.”

“A challenge then, to whomever can do the best make up.” Roman said with a flourish.

“I accept, after school? That gives more creative freedom.”

Roman agreed and they shook on it.

Dukey: O F F E N D E D P R I N C E Y N O I S E S hiss hiss motherfucker: what the fuck Remus Dukey: It’s true

Virgil went into the make up closest (yes they had an actual make up closet) to get his supplies. “Dad! I need to use your make up!” Virgil shouted.

“Don’t break anything!”

“Why the fuck would I do that?”

So Virgil got to work. It took several tries to get it just right but by the end it looked perfect. Prefect enough to scare the shit out of Roman that is.

They met up at the Halloween party, or Virgil did, he got their early and waited for Roman to arrive.

And he did.

Virgil saw him walk in so he jumped up and into Roman’s face.

Roman screamed and so did several other people.

“Sup Princey,” he said.

Roman put his hand on his heart “that was the most terrifying thing ever!”

“Then I won, clearly. I mean that...….. mummy costume isn’t that impressive or scary.”

Roman once again looked offended.

“Well, I’ll take my leave, see ya later Princey.” And Virgil left the party.

He walked inside the house in triumph.

“Where did you go Virgil? You’re all decked out in Halloween stuff. OH. MY GOD. You went to a party! You’re first party!!!” Remy said. He was filming, presumably for a vlog or something.

“I just went because I challenged a friend to see who could do better scare make up,” Virgil explained.

“Gurl, if you lost I’m disowning you. We are the queens of make up in this house and I will not see my son lose at a makeup competition,” Remy said.

“I scared him shitless of course I won.”

“THAT’S MY SON!” Remy cheered.

Virgil left to go change while Remy resumed his vlog.

He texted Remus and Janus.

Raccoon: I scared your brother shitless Raccoon: ngl it was pretty funny Dukey: I WISH I could have seen it hiss hiss motherfucker: Why do you like tormenting him? Dukey: well he’s MY twin, it’s my job Raccoon: His “o f f e n d e d p r i n c e y n o i s e s” are funny hiss hiss motherfucker: get a video and I’ll make my verdict Raccoon: Alright judge Janus hiss hiss motherfucker: YOU ARE NOT MAKING THAT MY CONTACT Dukey: You don’t like Jay-nus? Raccoon: Mine for him is hiss hiss motherfucker hiss hiss motherfucker: I fucking dare you, raccoon eyes Raccoon: now you’re definitely not getting that pallet

At school Roman practically begged to show Virgil how he looked so creepy.

“Oh my god! Fine princey, this weekend I’ll fucking show you how I did it,” Virgil said after two days of nonstop begging.

Roman looked triumphant ta getting what he wanted.

When Virgil texted his dad. Virgil: In the closet this weekend Remy: awww is it that boy at the Starbucks? Virgil: You mean the one I scared the shit out of and now wants to know who I did it? yes Remy: ok, tell me what time so we can go into the closet Virgil: I will

That Saturday Roman would come over. So on Friday that ad to “go into the closet” their code meaning they had to clean up all the stuff that where indicators of them being YouTubers and hide it in a literal closet. The makeup closet was locked and so was the basement so no one could stray down there.

Roman arrived a few minutes early.

“Dad! He’s here!”

“I know that Virgil, I’ll be “working” if y’all need me, but I know you won’t,” Remy said going into the basement and locking the door, he said he would edit but it was more likely he’d watch the Office for the sixteenth time.

Roman knocked on the door “hey emo nightmare! So this is your humble abode I see,” Roman said looking around.

“Yeah, my dad’s working in the basement, he said he’s doing something important, but he’s probably watching the Office again, either way he said not to disturb him,” Virgil said.

“I can hear you Virgil!” Remy shouted.

“Anyway, let’s go to my room so I can show you how I did the whole vampire look,” Virgil said.

When Roman saw his room he looked around “I pictured your room having a lot more black then this.”

Virgil’s room had only one wall where his bed was that was black, the rest was white, he had to admit it made the room look a lot more open then if it had been all black. Over the past two months Virgil had been painting purple patches on the black like in his old room in Atlanta.

“My dad refused to let me paint the whole room black because it would look terrible and I’d ruin the vibes,” Virgil said.

“He was right, but alas I’m not here to admire the décor of your room, I’m here to see how you did that makeup,” Roman said.

Virgil already had the stuff out “I know that Princey, come on, I’ll show you how to do it,” Virgil said.

They where halfway through when Roman said “you sound like a beauty channel,” he said.

Virgil stopped for a second before saying “well I’m doing it on your face, it would be a waste of good make up if you didn’t understand how I did it.”

“True, but you totally sound like James Charles,” Roman said.

Virgil winced “don’t let my dad hear you say that, he hates that guy.”

“Is he homophobic or something?”

Virgil smirked “no, we’re both gay. He just hates him and if you say his name around him, he might deck you. Or ban you from the espresso machine.”

Roman gave Virgil a weird look. “State of the art espresso machine, trust me, after you’ve had some you’ll regret ever getting banned.”

He laughed “so you’re both coffee addicts.”

“You should have seen his reaction when he realized that some of the coffee I got him was decaf.” Virgil smirked.

Roman laughed “like the Coffee Addiction video, I didn’t watch it but I saw it at number 1 on trending.”

Virgil almost lost his cool, for a minute “I guess, I wouldn’t know, I don’t watch CoffeeAddiction, what’s so great about it?”

Roman looked shocked “I’m surprised, I mean he’s one of the biggest youtubers in the beauty community,”

Virgil snorted “that explains it, I don’t watch beauty vlogs. Anyway, do you want to wash all of that off or go freak out some random people on the drive home?”

Roman chose to wash it off and left unknowing leaving Virgil and Remy to once again “youtubeify” their house.

#prinxiety #sander sides #au #youtuber au #familial sleepxiety #famous au #Thomas sanders #tss

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