#I heard rustling around and then by the time I got the camera loaded | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

prey-to-go · 1 year

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HA more writing

Coming into class Peter had a sense of dread, like he would be horribly embarrassed in class. Sure, biology was one of his favorite classes because the teacher was just pretty fun in general. She was great at explaining things and making the material as interactive as possible. He sighs as he walks into class, scanning the room for whatever made the dread feeling in his chest twist, seeing nothing, he headed to his seat and cautiously sat down.

People filed in chatting about this and that before the bell rang and everyone’s conversations slowly petered out, Ms.Lebist standing from her desk with a smile, the projector whirling as the picture showed up on the whiteboard. “Good morning, everyone, have your packets from yesterday pulled out to be handed in at the end of class. “The rustling of papers and the sound of zippers heard as everyone grabbed their papers. Peter grabbed his own and set it on his desk with a smile.

“Today we’re going over pred anatomy and the difference between certain predators.”

The second those words left the teacher’s mouth Peter knew he wasn’t going to focus very well. “As you are all aware biology is roughly the same for most of these ‘predators’ with little changes that are only noticeable if you are looking for them.”

oh...oh this was going to be hell.

Huh sorta like Mr. Stark’s fangs. It wasn’t exactly a common trait for many hybrids to have unless they were literally built to hunt. “With technology advancing the way it is we were able to get videos of how a ‘predators’ body handles its ‘prey’, if anyone is squeamish during this you may step outside.”

The image on the power point finally fully loaded and the bright image of a preds mouth was there. Peter ducked his head immediately, his heart pounding. He knew what it looked like, well sorta he never really took the time to poke around Mr. Stark's mouth. “Alright, what all can we notice in this picture?” Ms.Lebist comments tapping the board with a marker.

Students raised their hands comments being thrown out about the teeth, the tongue looked like it had more taste buds, small things. Peter couldn’t focus on all without blushing. He was glad that Ms.Lebist decided to turn the lights off. He knew what it felt like too, the warmth the slimy feeling as the tongue slathered the prey up for the trip down-

“Next, we have a video taken from an employee from a research facility, here we’ll be able to see how the muscles work, as well as how different parts of the body work. Now the predator in this video is one of the more common hybrids, a wolf. You’ll be able to see how it seems similar to a strictly human predator.”

Peter squeezes his eyes shut his breath catching in his throat. Oh boy this wasn’t going to be fun.

The video played an unfamiliar voice coming from the video. “Alright, ya know the drill pup. If you change your mind, just say something.” There was an indignant squeak from the person holding the camera, the large mouth on screen turning up in a smirk. “I am not a pup! I am like literally 5 years younger than you!”

Warm laughter came from the wolf hybrid Peter's insides flipping the whole time. He was familiar with the teasing, the concern and overall, the sight. “Still, ya got a baby face.” The pred drawls, the camera moving as the hand holding the prey lays flat. “Alright, alright I’ll stop my teasing, do your little science video.”

Just as the wolf’s mouth open wide, the camera fogging up slightly at the warmth, strings of saliva clinging to the roof of the pred’s mouth and dripping down on to the tongue Ms.Lebist pauses the video. “Most preds, especially those who are hybrids, will act parental or form an attachment to the prey. This isn’t always the cause but generally it is. The hybrid we see here obviously has a friendship with the prey taking the video.”

Peter chews on his lip trying to get his embarrassment to somewhat squash down. He squirms in his seat taking a breath to calm down. More when the video plays again, the pred’s tongue laying over the teeth to avoid mishaps. “Alright log one, this is meant to be an educational video regarding predator's biology and insides. I am wearing a suit that will protect from acids as well as manage my size during this video.”

The camera moves forward, a brief moment where the dark shadowed the view of the pred’s mouth before a light flashed on, saliva glistening at the shine. Peter shifts awkwardly glancing down before looking back up. The sight was familiar and despite everything he found himself slowly relaxing.

“We can see that the teeth are sharper than what you’d see for a human, more wolf like...” There was a chuckle, the lens fogging up briefly. “You can see here that the tongue appears to have more taste buds, most predators will, this gives the predator the ability to taste prey more thoroughly. I’ve been told before that most people have a different taste, for example the comment has been made that I taste similar to potatoes.”

The camera moves further in, the light behind the person fading as the teeth slowly close down, clicking together. Each tooth fits perfectly together. A hand appears in the frame, running along the grooves. “We can see- hey I am being careful!” The tip of the tongue nudging the hand away from the fangs. There was a deep rumble almost vibrating the camera. “Fine, alright, so the teeth are stronger in predators, and have a more razor edge, ease to slice through meat.”

Saliva dripped from the lens for a second, a pause before a hand came into view and wiped it away. “Alright, I need to see the throat and stomach now big guy.” A small squelch was here Peter knowing that sound very well, the camera person was patting the muscle. Nothing happened for a second before the camera started tilting forward, a warning hum was heard. “Wait! Wait turn your camera on!” The person behind the camera squeaks. There was a bit view changed as the pred swallowed thickly, the dual screen coming on. As the camera was being pulled down the image of the outside popping up, the pred lightly tracing the lump, a smirk on his face. Peter squirmed in his seat at the look, it was so confident, honestly it reminded him of Mr. Stark.

The camera on the outside followed the lump until it disappeared until the prey slipped behind the pred’s collar bone. There wasn't any indication of the prey from the outside. The inside camera, however, caught the familiar sight of the tight ring to the stomach, they squeeze past with little difficultly, plopping into the stomach with a wet squelch.

“Alright I’m in the stomach right now, we can see each stomach fold-” The prey pauses as they trail a hand along the muscle, the organ gurgling loudly in content. “Surprisingly the stomach is incredibly sensitive, a ton of nerves are active down here so preds can feel every little movement, touches, breathing everything.”

The noises from the stomach stopped, Peter turning his gaze to their teacher hoping the darkness of the room hid his flushed face. The video was paused thank God but his embarrassment hadn’t faded one bit. He closes his eyes and takes a calming breath.

“Any questions?” Ms.Lebist asks. Peter couldn’t bring himself to focus on the barrage of questions that came from the students around him, instead mentally replying to the video in his mind.

The rest of the day went by in a blur and the next thing he knew he was standing in the elevator of SI. The doors soon opened, Peter stepping out and relaxing when he heard the demon coming from the kitchen. He lifts his hands up immediately, sighing when he was scooped up with ease.

“So how was school squirt?”

“Awful, we were covering pred anatomy in depth today and we had to watch a video.” He whines, pressing his face into the demon’s shirt once close enough. Huh Mr. Stark didn’t have any meetings today, if he did the shirt would’ve been a suit.

He blinks in surprise when a chuckle rumbles from the chest he had his face buried in, his cheeks flushing aging. “Different seeing it from the outside huh?” Mr. Stark muses, a light touch brushing against this back in a comforting manner. “Yeah, it just..it’s crazy to know that I look like that when you’re...” Peter trials off too embarrassed to finish.

“Oh, it probably looks a little different, you’re a not a mouthful so it stretches a bit more..you know what I’ll record so you can see. Honestly, it’s interesting to see, Peps thinks it looks weird.”

Peter smiles a bit and nods “okay..yeah let's do it. For science.” Besides it would take his mind off the one little fact in the video, the one about preds forming attachments to prey. Surely Mr. Stark hadn’t..right?

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necropxlis · 3 years

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That’s My Girl (Kenma x Reader)

A/N: The reader is female. This was based off of something that happened to me while playing a game with someone. So I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 1,785

Tagging: @missingmystogan

“Just cap the point I have my super! PLEASE! UGGGHHHH.”

Dropping the controller, you leaned back in the gaming chair Kenma bought for you. Back when he first introduced you to all of his viewers on Youtube and Twitch, it seemed the content you both made was highly demanded. So with the idea set in stone, he bought you a whole new setup and turned the spare bedroom into your gaming studio (with Kenma’s being right beside yours because of easy access.)

The two of you thought today would be a great day to do a little recording for Youtube and just hang out and have some fun. However, your competitive side was showing, and with the fact that every game you have played so far ended in you taking that L, just started to push your buttons. Kenma noticed you were getting frustrated with your losing streak and the bad reputation of picking up horrible teammates. The silence in the lobby party was deafening, trying to decide if one more game was worth your sanity or not. For heavens sakes, you just lost a game that could have turned around if someone just put their foot on the capture point.

“One more game.” Kenma’s voice echoed through the headset.

You sighed, “Babe, I don’t know if I can handle another game right now.”

“Just one more game,” Kenma laughed picturing the glare you were probably giving him through the walls, “let’s do a 2v2 and if we end up losing then we will call it a day. I’ll scrap all the footage and we can just cuddle and watch anime all night. Does that sound like a deal?”

You thought about it for a second. The thought of actually just throwing the game was tempting. Knowing your boyfriend, even if you did win the game, he would still give you all the affection you desired.

“Alright. One more game. Only if we can have takeout.”

Kenma laughed at your request but agreed knowing that you would eventually have your way. With a newfound spirit, you launched the 2v2 match. The stakes were high. Food was on the line. Your mental health was on the line. Even the sake of Kenma’s YouTube video was on the line. You had to bring your A-game. The game finally loaded in with two other random players on the opposite team. For a while, the game was pretty even. Your team would win a round and the opposite team would win the next one.

It was now match point, the opposite team had two wins and your team had two wins. Whoever could capture the point or make the other team run out of lives takes home the gold. Your hands were starting to get sweaty. This was the moment your pride was riding on (not only your pride but your sanity as well.) Inhaling sharply you focused on the task at hand, getting the team down on lives. You pushed the stick on the controller to make your character walk around the corner of a building. One of the enemy players was focusing on killing Kenma, so you lit them up with a magazine, successfully killing the enemy. Only, for the other teammate to get its revenge by sniping you.

“I am this close to breaking my controller.” You said gritting your teeth.

“The game is almost over, baby. We can do this.”

Kenma had so much hope in you. A swirl of happiness began to blossom inside of you. The praise only fueled your motivation to win this game. The game went on for a while longer, both sides equally pulling your life count down to 1 life per team. The game was getting annoyed at how slow both teams were taking, so it placed the capture point in the middle of the map. You had just respawned back into the game when Kenma died again. He groaned in frustration as he tried to round the corner to capture the point, but both players on the opposite team used their supers on him. A smirk made its way onto your face as you thought of a grandmaster plan. Kenma took the same route to the capture point, while you decided to use the flank.

Running up the middle of the map, Kenma was shot down before he even got near the point. There was no way you could take on both players without getting double-teamed and if you died, that was it you had no more lives. You hid around the corner, being able to see the players on the point, but them not being able to see you.

“Kenma, run up the middle again.”

“Baby, we could lose it here.” Kenma said exasperated.

You scoffed and let out a little chuckle, “Just trust me. When they start shooting at you, dodge and hide behind a pillar. I got this.”

Kenma, although a little worried, trusted you and followed through with your plan. He followed his same path and ran towards the point. He began to fire on the team 1 on 2. The team was completely unaware of you sneaking behind them. The reason for your master plan was due to your super being so closed to being charged. Kenma was a little early so you began to panic. You couldn’t let him die. If he died there was no way you would be able to win. The team still didn't notice your presence.

“Whatever you're gonna do, Y/N, do it now!” Kenma said.

Kenma’s character dodged behind a pillar and you knew now was your chance. You made your character jump in the air and popped your super. The super you had equipped was a giant laser beam that was way too overpowered at times. This was one of those times. The enemy team turned around, but it was too late for them to do anything about the giant blue laser. You slaughtered both teammates in one shot and landed on the capture point when your super subsided. Nothing hit you yet, you were too “in the zone.”

“Holy shit, that's my girl.” He said laughing and running onto the capture point with you.

The other team, having had both players die, had no more lives left. There were only 20 seconds left in the game and it was looking to be in your favor. However, no matter how happy you both were, you still had a chance to lose. Turning around the corner the 2 players on the opposite team were heading your way. You both held them off as much as you could until the game stopped. You and Kenma had captured the point and ultimately won the game. You began to laugh. Somehow, miraculously, you managed to kill the losing streak. Kenma was silent for a minute. Then out of nowhere, he began to laugh as well. The both of you are just absolutely shocked over what just happened. You heard some rustling over on your boyfriends' end, but you were too busy laughing to notice. The door to your room opened showing your boyfriend with a stunned expression. You took your headset off and threw your arms in the air signaling your victory. Kenma smirked, running over to you and engulfing you in a huge hug. The both of you a giggling mess. Your boyfriend tilted his head and smothered your face in kisses.

You squealed and tried pushing away from him only for him to chase your lips. Capturing you in a sweet and loving kiss. His lips were soft against yours, every movement took your breath away. Slowly parting from the pudding-haired man, a smile spread across both of your faces. Kenma chuckled and brushed a bit of hair behind your ear.

“That was so badass.” He said cupping your cheeks.

“I am badass.” You said smirking.

Kenma laughed and kissed your nose before letting you go. He walked to the doorway, turning back to look at you with so much love in those golden cat-like eyes. You giggled and threw your peach stress ball, that you had resting on your desk, at him. He quickly ran out the door and back to his office. Laughing, you put your headset back on and made sure you could still hear everything. There was more rustling on the other end, signaling you that your partner was back.

“You know I was recording all of that?”

“If you delete any of that I will murder you.” You said smirking.

Kenma doubled over laughed and agreed that he wouldn’t delete the footage. What you didn’t know, was that he had turned the camera on in your room before you got in there. A couple of days passed before Kenma uploaded the video to YouTube. Being the supportive person that you are, you watched the video. Unbeknownst to you, the entire interaction began to play across your screen. Part of you wanted to hide out of embarrassment; but seeing how the comment section gave you both nothing but love and support, you couldn’t help but love your geek of a boyfriend even more. Even if he was a sly little devil sometimes.

Extra: (That same night.) After paying for your take out, you cuddled up next to your boyfriend with your favorite anime playing on the big tv in the living room. Kenma smiled wrapping his arms around you and placing a quick kiss to your cheek. You smiled and continued eating your take out.

“You know, I was scared there for a moment. Didn't think your plan would work.” He said turning back towards the tv.

You stopped eating and stared at the man, “You had no faith in me?!”

Kenma shrugged as a smirk tugged at his lips. You scoffed and gathered your food, quickly walking to your bedroom and locking the door behind you. Your boyfriend was right on your heels but a second too slow.

“Come on, Y/N. I was just kidding. Please open up, baby.”

“No. No cuddles for you.”

Kenma sighed and tried not to laugh at you adorable temper tantrum. No matter how much he apologized for picking on you, he ended up having to sleep on the couch that night.

The next morning he woke by the smell of eggs and pancakes. Opening his eyes, there was a tray with breakfast on it. Beside the plate of food there was a little card with his name on it. Picking up the card he noticed your adorable handwriting.

“Sorry for getting mad at you. Can I have cuddles? - Y/N”

Kenma laughed and got up to make his way to you. After all you were his girl.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu fanfiction #kenma x reader #kenma kozume #kenma kozume x reader #kenma x y/n #fanfiction

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sapphicmsmarvel · 4 years

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Platonic! Hotch x Reader: Payback

masterlist

Reader is Jack’s babysitter. Y/N was hired the second Hayley went back to work after having Jack. Since Hayleys death, Y/N has stepped up to take care of Jack full time. That includes living at the Hotchner residences.

Spoilers for season 5 below:

Imagine hotch didn’t kill foyet, imagine it was Y/N. after hayley, they lost foyets trail and resumed their lives.

Lets pretend they didnt go back into protective custody. Bc obviously if this happened irl they would

Tw: foyet shit, stabbing with scissors.

“Y/N!” You felt a tiny human jump on top of you.

You immediately woke up, making sure not to jerk out of bed so you didn’t push Jack off of you. “What’s up little man?”

“Daddy said to wake you up!” You groaned at his answer, causing him to giggle.

“Did I oversleep?”

Hotch answered from the doorway, “no, I got called in early.”

“Oh shoot.” You immediately got up, Jack following. “I missed breakfast?” You asked as you pulled your sweater on.

“Breakfast didn’t even start.” He laughed. You liked seeing him at ease, he was your friend and he was always stressed. “But Strauss called and said there’s a lot of paperwork.”

“Want me to bring you lunch?” You asked as Jack led the way to the kitchen, you and Hotch following suit.

“If you find the time with him.” He pointed to the child skipping in front of you. “He’s extra energetic this morning. Said he had a good dream and now he’s happy.”

“I’ll make time, we can go to the park during lunch. Gives him some exercise.” You said as he sat down at the table.

“Aright, see you at noon, goodbye Y/N.” He squeezed your shoulder, then kissed Jack's head and said goodbye to him.

He walked out the door, and you couldn’t help but wonder what today would bring. One time….one time when he squeezed your shoulder and said goodbye, you went into protective custody away from Jack and Hayley. Then a month later, got a phone call saying Hayley was dead.

Not just dead, murdered.

And Foyet was still out there. But everyone was positive he’d move on. He took Hotch’s love away from him, so everyone assumed he’d moved on to a new victim.

Boy, you really hoped that was the case.

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

Hotch sat down at his desk, ready to start work, then he noticed something. Hotch loved you like a daughter. You were truly a blessing in his life. He even had a photo of you three on his desk.

And now that photo was gone. In it’s place, Hayley’s necklace.

Hotch’s stomach sank, he immediately called you and your phone went to voicemail. He sent you a text, “Foyet’s close.” He knew he had to think rationally, given that you and Jack were in danger. He couldn't mess it up.

He couldn’t lose you, too.

He knew Foyet wouldn’t harm Jack, Foyet wanted to punish Hotch, so he’d make Hotch see his son in pain, first losing his mother, then losing his sister-like figure. He ran to the team, they were at their desks, “meeting room, five minutes.” He needed those five minutes to discuss with Garcia.

He walked to her office and told her everything. And how he wanted her to hack into his security cameras and check on you. Which, she immediately did. He walked back up and told the team everything, then Garcia walked in.

“Sir?” Garcia asked.

“Yes?”

“I managed to get the security camera footage from your house.”

“Show it, now. On the big screen.”

It showed you and Jack in your bedroom, watching The Golden Girls (yes you got the boy into The Golden Girls he talks like Sophia all the time) That’s when you heard the bang.

Garcia enhanced the audio. You looked at Jack, “hey buddy, how bout you go read in our favorite reading spot, okay?” His heart sank at the fact you had to use part of the Protocall Words that you two had discussed. There was a code-locked room in the back of the house, that’s where he was going.

When Jack was at a safe distance away from you, you beeped your code into the mini safe that was beneath your bed.

“What is she doing?” Morgan asked.

“She’s getting ready to protect herself and Jack.” Emily answered.

“You armed her with a gun?”

Hotch nodded, “when everything with Hayley happened, she suggested being protected and learning how to defend herself and Jack if it came to it. I happily put her through classes so she learned every fighting skill she could.”

“Call all units you can, dispatch them. Discreetly, I don’t want this scaring Foyet into killing her.”

You checked to make sure the gun was loaded, then you put it into your waistband of your pants, you pulled your shirt over it to conceal it. You patted your pockets, Hotch was confused, then saw your phone light up on the table downstairs.

The cameras switched, you maneuvered the hall, moving quietly. Hotch saw you checking windows and when you didn’t see anybody outside, he knew you well enough that you were scared but wouldn’t show it.

The front door creaked open.

Hotch was holding his breath, you were his best friend, despite the 15+ year age difference, you both grieved Hayley, you both loved Jack. You both would do anything to protect each other and Jack.

He heard the team’s intake of breath. The cameras switched to Foyet’s entrance. He was wearing his mask and all black attire. Two camera views were side by side, you peering over the bannister, and Foyet maneuvering. When Foyet wasn’t looking, you tossed a shoe across the room, to a corner that Foyet couldn’t see. So it’d make a distracting bang for you to get to the Panic Room as you and Jack dubbed it. Foyet turned to go to the corner.

“She’s smart.” Prentiss said, keeping her voice quiet, as if Foyet could hear them. Hotch thought about going with the units. But he knew, he couldn’t move away from the screen.

You crept down the stairs, then you ran to the other hallway, where he couldn’t see you, except, he heard the rush of air and the rustle of clothes. He spun around.

You put the code to the locked room into the panel, the door popped open, but it beeped. Foyet ran up behind you and wrapped a headphone cord around your neck. You gasped from the lack of air, and as he pulled you away from the door, you kicked the door shut to lock again.

He dragged you through the living room, he threw you to the ground, stomach first. He ripped the gun from your waistband and threw it against the wall away from you two. He rolled you over and crawled on top of you.

As he sat up to hit you again, straddling your waist, you sat up quickly and did the only thing you could do.

You, quite literally, grabbed him by the balls.

All the males in the room flinched, and Garcia said, “go girl.”

He hissed in pain, then grounded out. “You’re a feisty one, aren’t you?”

“You have no idea.” You growled, rage filling your eyes. You spat in his face. He shot back, and you used that opportunity to let go of him and kick him where it really, really, hurts.

He flew back, hitting the glass table in the living room, breaking it with his impact. And, in the time it took for him to get back up and grab the gun again; you were gone.

He groaned, “dammit.”

Despite the lump in his throat, and the fact that his stomach was in his feet, Hotch smiled. Foyet had no idea what you were capable of.

He scoured the area where you disappeared too. He found himself in Hotch’s office.

Hotch watched as Foyet’s eyes saw the open closet door and crept towards it.

Hotch started tearing up, he was holding his breath. But he was unable to tear his eyes away from the screen.

But, what Foyet didn’t see, was that the door was left open so you could hide behind the door.

Then, he watched as you lept from behind the door and drove a pair of scissors into the Foyets neck.

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

The next few hours went by in a blur.

After, you stabbed Foyet, you sat down against the wall, waiting. He watched as you stared at Foyet dying on the ground. You didn’t raise your eyes from his body. Not to wipe his blood off your hands, not to wipe your bleeding nose, not even to check your busted lip or pick the crusted blood from your hair.

Instead, you watched as Foyet tried to fight, tried to get up and hurt you. But instead, you smiled. “Paybacks a bitch, huh?”

Foyet tried to move again and you mock-pouted, “aww, you mad you can’t control this situation or torture me? Fuck you.” You hissed, then Foyet took his dying breath.

A minute later, he watched SWAT enter his home, he watched officers peel the gun from your fingertips, he watched them guide you up. Then, you calmly walked to the panic room, looked at the Chief and said. “Kindly, back up, don’t let Jack see you. In fact, can you hand me a jacket and gloves so Jack doesn’t see this blood on me?” You requested.

What surprised him is that they listened to you, you covered up your body and hands. You then went to the couch, as if you had all the time in the world, you grabbed a blanket.

You pressed the code into the room, walked in, then walked out with Jack curled in the blanket, his face tucked into your shoulder. He didn’t have to hear, he knew you told him to close his eyes and not look.

Then the outside cameras showed you getting into an FBI vehicle. That’s when he turned away from the screens.

He raced to the doors, JJ readied first aid, Prentiss helped her, she wet cloths for the blood. The ten minutes drive felt longer, but then he saw you and Jack come through the doors. He immediately hugged you. He heard you sniff, so he held you tighter.

You were the one who pulled away, and you put Jack into his arms. You sniffed, while your eyes were teared up, you didn’t let them fall and swallowed them. You turned to go to first aid, your body was hurting. But then you saw Struass.

You knew of her, she interviewed you when Hayley was murdered, to see if Hotch was as put together at home as he was at work. You told her to never contact you again, you were furious when she had the audacity to ask if he was abusive.

“Miss. L/N. I just have a few questions-”

You cut her off, “Strauss, there are a lot of words I can use to describe you. But the fact, that you are questioning me, someone who just killed one of America’s most prolific serial killers, someone who has more trauma than your entire bloodline combined, someone who has dealt with more than you can possibly imagine, makes you a massive, heartless, cowardly, bitch.” You hissed, then you did something that Hotch would admire you forever for, you shoved her shoulder and pushed her out of the way. You nodded to JJ and Prentiss, who immediately followed you to clean you up.

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

Strauss paid for a hotel suite for you three to reside in. You had your room, Hotch and Jack had theirs. It was joined by a living room and kitchen. You’d be there for about two weeks. Maybe more. It all depended on whether or not you could step foot in the house again.

You weren’t going to quit your job. You loved them. But, you knew it’d take time to heal.

You had kept a stable mindset all through the process of that day. You got Jack tucked into bed, then you shut the bedroom door. You turned to find Hotch sitting on the couch.

“Hey big fella.” You smiled looking at Hotch.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” He said horsley.

“It’s okay. I signed up for this the second I signed that babysitters contract Hayley made.”

Hotch huffed a laugh, “she was so proud of that contract.” You nodded and smiled, you went to go sit on the couch next to Hotch. “Don’t let this eat you up inside, Mr. Hothcner.”

“How many times am I going to have to tell you to call me Aaron?” He smiled sadly.

“When you stop blaming yourself for me and Jack having to run earlier today, that’s when I will stop calling you Mr. Hotchner.”

“You know Hayley liked you cause you gave me shit. She’s probably laughing right now.”

“Oh one hundred percent.” You smiled, it was easier for you to smile right now than show sadness. And fear.

“What’d Struass want?” He asked, swirling his whiskey in the glass.

“Wanted to know if I was fucking my boss.” You said. “I told her to go fuck herself since she was so interested in who I was fucking.”

He laughed, a full throaty laugh. Then you said, “I’m sure you’re gonna hear about that on Monday.”

“Frankly, I don't think so. She’ll be too embarrassed.”

“Good, when she said she wanted to question Jack, I almost….” You shook your head. “I almost punched her in the face.”

“She’ll see how tough you are. She’s probably watching the footage right now.”

You grimaced, “did you see….”

“The full on ball grab? Yes, we all did.”

“Gah,” you rubbed your face. “I can’t believe my boss saw me yank someone's balls.”

He laughed again, “don’t worry, your pay just got promoted.”

“You already pay me enough, plus allow me to live the rent free.”

“You’re family, Y/N. Hell, the money can put you through therapy.”

You huffed a laugh, “I’m going to go to bed,” you got up. “Goodnight Aaron.” You smiled kindly. Then you walked away to your room without anything else.

The second your door latched, you started crying.

#Criminal Minds #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x reader #Thomas Gibson #platonic criminal minds

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cheri-translates · 4 years

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[CN] Gavin’s Dangerous Night Date (Eng Translation)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 危夜之约, which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

Do note that this date features S2 Gavin, but doesn’t contain S2 spoilers.

Timeline: The STF Filming Plan -> Dangerous Night Date -> Saving the Young Troublemaker Project

[ This date was released in CN on 28 Sep 2020 ]

Female Anchorwoman: Next, our focus is on breaking news.

On the television, the two words “Breaking News” are displayed on Loveland Night News. The female anchorwoman looks into the camera and starts presenting the news.

Female Anchorwoman: Around 10pm today, a building in the suburbs of Loveland City collapsed for reasons still unknown. According to sources provided by eye-witnesses, the building was part of a certain estate development project, and has not been put to use. Typically, no one goes in or out. But this does not eliminate the possibility of people being trapped within. The municipal administration has expressed that this incident could have been caused by Evol. The STF has been engaged to carry out a rescue mission. Loveland Night News once again calls citizens...

Squadmate: Captain Gavin, we’ve contacted the base. The search and rescue dogs will be here soon.

Gavin sits on a chair, his legs crossed as he pulls the strings on his leather boots tightly.

Gavin: Got it. We’ll set out once the search and rescue dogs are here.

Squadmate: Yes.

Gavin stands up, adjusts his equipment to a comfortable level, then picks up his phone on the table.

The phone displays the time: 22:59. It’d take an hour to reach the collapsed building.

Gavin taps on a message he received three days ago. The sender is MC.

Message from MC: Gavin, when I was out for location scouting, I discovered a slightly strange building in the suburbs of the city. There seems to be special Evol fluctuations inside.

Message from MC: Does the STF want to make some time to investigate?

Message from MC: Just to be clear - I’m really not joking this time.

His response was: I’ll take a look next week.

There’s a cute emoticon in the white message bubble opposite.

And the conversation ended there.

The response section still retains the draft he didn’t send at the time: Don’t go there alone.

By the time images of the collapsed building appeared in the news, the surrounding area had already been cordoned off.

Gavin makes a call... “du”, “du”, “du”, again and again.

When the female automated voice resounds, Gavin hangs up.

---”the number you have dialed is currently unavailable.”

It’s dark.

I open my eyes, attempting to stand up in the dark.

MC: ...I’m not dead.

I rub the dull ache at the back of my head, panting while my heart flutters with fear.

The collapse of the building happened so suddenly. I instinctively ran to a corner to hide. From the looks of it, that decision saved my life.

I reach out to feel around my surroundings--

There’s a wall in front of me. It’s slanted, so it must have fallen. It just so happened to shield me from broken stones that fell.

But precisely because of this, I’m stuck in a narrow space and can’t really stand up.

MC: Cough, cough cough...

My mouth is filled with the taste of dust, and I don't know how long I've lost consciousness.

The building was swaying very violently when it collapsed. I couldn’t stand steadily at all, and my entire body collided with a wall.

I return to my senses, using both hands to feel the ground.

My phone... I remember gripping my phone the entire time.

No one knows that I'm here. This unfinished building has been left empty for several years, so no one might come to my rescue.

I need to hurry and find a way to call for help.

Air is still flowing here, so there’s no danger of oxygen deprivation. But I can only survive for 3 to 4 days without a water source.

Before the building collapsed, I was in the basement level. Logically speaking, it’s near the surface, but I can’t tell if the upper floors are crushing on it...

The wall above me doesn’t seem to be able to hold much more weight. If it gets weighed down slightly, there’s a risk of a collapse.

I frantically feel around the mess on the ground - it’s all pieces of rock, broken steel bars, glass shards...

Suddenly, I see a single, cold ray of light--

The phone touchpad recognises my fingerprint, lighting up the screen. I hurriedly pick up the phone, and on it displays: “2 Missed Calls”.

MC: Gavin.

Upon seeing this name, the tautness in my heart suddenly relaxes.

I immediately give him a call. The “du”, “du” of the dial tone resounds in the empty and quiet darkness, amplified infinitely.

Countless thoughts fly across my mind--

Maybe Gavin is resting. Maybe he’s on an important mission. Maybe he isn’t in Loveland City now...

“du”, “du”, “du”...

When the fifth beep sounds, I’ve already set down the phone, preparing to hang up.

Gavin: Where are you?

MC: Gavin!

I suddenly hear Gavin’s voice. I stare at the screen and am stunned for a moment.

And react immediately!

MC: Gavin! The unfinished building in the suburbs I told you about just collapsed. I’m trapped in it, in the basement--

Gavin: Got it.

His voice is overly calm, which I find odd.

MC: You already know about the collapsed building?

Gavin’s calm voice drifts from the phone, mixed with the clamour of his surroundings.

Gavin: I’m in charge of tonight’s search and rescue mission.

MC: ...

MC: ...haha! That’s great.

Gavin: What’s wrong?

MC: Nothing much, I just feel the happiness of a disaster survivor.

Gavin: I haven’t even rescued you out yet.

MC: With you around, there won’t be a problem.

Gavin breathes composedly, as though not knowing what to say.

Gavin: If you were afraid of death, you shouldn’t have gone running around in the middle of the night.

Gavin: ...I can’t leave out a single reminder.

Gavin raises his volume.

Gavin: Where were you before the collapse?

MC: The carpark in the underground basement.

Gavin: I’m looking for you now. Take care of your own safety.

MC: Hold on. Gavin, there’s no hurry to look for me. I was only here for a short while and there won’t be any danger. But I saw some vagabonds staying here at night. There are definitely other people in this building. Save them first!

Gavin is silent for a few seconds.

Gavin: The STF will not decide who it will save first or later. I’ll save everyone.

I don’t want to wait here alone, so I don’t hang up even after a long time.

Neither does Gavin.

Sometimes, the sound of Gavin and other members of the STF would drift from the phone.

Gavin: Do you have the plane figure of the building?

Squadmate: Got it. Captain Gavin, we’ve asked around the vicinity, and there are a few vagabonds living in this building. Most of them are on the third or fourth floor.

Gavin: There’s been a rainstorm these two days. This building doesn’t have covered windows. Locations near the windows will be drenched from the rain. They should be in the middle parts of the floor. Two people per group - bring the search and rescue dogs and begin the operation.

Squadmate: Understood!

I hug the phone in contemplation.

Before sending Gavin the message, I had already visited this building a few times to investigate.

I familiarised myself with all the entrances and exits to have the confidence to deal with any surprise situations. But I completely didn’t expect that this would happen.

Gavin: [with a gentle voice capable of making flowers bloom] Are you all right?

After a moment, I realise that Gavin is talking to me.

MC: Huh? I’m fine.

I look at the time displayed on the phone - It’s already 1am.

Gavin: Are you sleepy?

MC: ...I’m not that brave. How could I be drowsy under such circumstances?

Gavin: The scope of the basement level is too large. I need a more detailed lead.

MC: Are you holding the plane figure of the building?

Gavin: Yes. Relate your route to me.

MC: I came in using the east entrance, and planned to take the stairs up from the fire exit. So I should have been heading west.

The sound of a finger gliding across the paper can be heard.

Gavin: During the collapse, did you see the fire exit?

MC: I didn’t. It was probably around a hundred metres away. I’m currently trapped in a corner. The structure here is pretty stable, so it could be a load-bearing wall.

Gavin: I know your approximate location. Wait for me.

MC: Mm.

Hearing my soft sigh, Gavin laughs.

Gavin: Are you afraid?

MC: Maybe a little. It’s a new experience in life, so of course it’d scare someone.

Gavin: Knowing what it means to be afraid is a good thing. If I didn’t come, how did you plan to rescue yourself?

MC: There’s no such “if”. The moment I felt something was amiss, I gripped my phone and wanted to give you a call.

I hold onto the phone, staring at the light on the screen, and staring at the word “Gavin” on it.

Just this name alone harbours the ability to make one feel at ease.

Gavin: You’re so certain that I’d come rescue you?

MC: Mm! Captain Gavin is someone who will never leave a single Loveland City citizen in the lurch.

Gavin ignores me.

MC: ...

MC: Have you found the other people who are trapped?

Gavin: We’ve found two. They’re being rescued now.

MC: That’s fast...

Gavin: STF’s search and rescue dogs have undergone professional training. They can accurately locate people who are trapped.

MC: Search and rescue dogs?

??: Bark!

A bark suddenly drifts from the other end of the line.

Gavin: Little Grey should have found you.

MC: Little Grey? What a careless name... Were you the one who named it?

Gavin: What’s wrong with the name?

...I don’t give him a response.

In the darkness, I seem to hear sounds from above.

Tiny rocks are pelting from above. The steel bars seem to be weighed down by something, releasing a whimpering sound.

Gravel and dust rustle as they fall...

MC: Gavin!

MC: Leave quickly. Bring your men and leave immediately, it’s dangerous! There’s going to be a second collapse--

Gavin breathes, as though he’s about to speak, but doesn’t. He quickly issues out orders.

Gavin: Everyone, take note. Evacuate immediately. I repeat - Evacuate immediately!

I hug the phone, not sure what I should say to Gavin.

Gavin: [with the gentlest of voices] MC, you’ll be okay.

His voice carries with it his usual confidence.

Gavin: I guarantee.

I press the phone to my ear, capturing every breath in his voice. After adjusting my breathing, I raise my volume.

MC: You have to leave quickly, don’t stay here! I’m very safe where I am. Shouldering another collapse is no problem!

The creaking of the steel bars grows closer. I’m not sure if it’s just my misperception, but the wall above me seems to have caved downwards slightly.

Already set to the lowest brightness, my screen becomes even dimmer.

A few large rocks pelt down in front of me, channelling large gusts of dust.

MC: Just bring Little Grey to look for me later, I...

Rumble!

The building collapses once again, causing dust clouds to billow.

The STF team members have rescued two elderly folk who are in their fifties, who collect scraps for a living.

Gavin stares at the ruins in front of him wordlessly.

His eyes are mixed with imperceptible, repressed emotions. It’s as though underneath the tranquil ocean hides turbulence and fierceness.

The searchlights illuminate the location he was standing at just now, and the search and rescue dogs had already sent a signal to him -- it meant that his target could have been under his feet.

Maybe only five metres away. Maybe three metres.

Gavin: Everyone--

He squats down, rubbing the nape of the rescue dog, pulling on its leash again.

Seeming to sense something out of the ordinary, they wag their tails at Gavin, as though comforting him without words.

With a heavy gaze, he looks towards the two rescue dogs, as though he’s handing over all his trust.

Gavin: Recommence the search and rescue operation. Be sure to rescue everyone who has been trapped.

The phone has already exhausted its battery, and has shut off automatically.

I’m huddled in a corner, trying to reduce the amount of energy expended.

I know that the slanted wall has already collapsed, and is hanging above. Maybe the steel bar didn’t snap, which is why only half of it has weighed downwards.

There’s a wall behind me, and a gigantic fallen rock in front. I don’t have any space to move.

But it’s far too dark. I can’t check the condition of the wall behind me, and I don’t know how much longer it can hold.

MC: Gavin.

There’s nothing I can do. I lean on the wall and wait patiently.

I know he’ll come.

MC: ...

A few hours pass, and I hear some sounds from above, but they disappear into the darkness quickly.

Perhaps knowing that Gavin will definitely appear, the fear and anxiety in my heart dissipates with the passage of time.

The most distinct feeling is tiredness.

Maintaining my posture of sticking close to the wall, my back is hunched, and I’ve been sitting until my bottoms hurt.

Time passes so slowly here. Every second is elongated.

The physical fatigue I’m experiencing tells me that an entire night has gone by.

In the middle of sleeping and waking, a bright light suddenly appears before my eyes...

I immediately turn my back towards it -- as expected, in the next instant, a strong wind suddenly lifts the tiles and bricks in my surroundings.

I lift my head to see Gavin standing above the ruins.

The sun is faintly discernible behind him and the layers of clouds, illuminating a faint glow in the blue horizon. Wind brushes his fringe, revealing that pair of resolute amber eyes.

Gavin: Are you okay?

His voice is very light, and exudes a rare fatigue. It seems he has been busy the entire night. But a faint smile still hangs at the corners of his lips.

...as compared to the wry smile I’m wearing now, Gavin seems more like the disaster survivor.

Gavin: Give me your hand!

He takes a step forward, reaching out to me. I hurriedly hold onto it, but I don’t want my entire self to be towed away by him.

My vision is turned upside down. Gavin suddenly hoists me onto his shoulders.

MC: ...Gavin?!

I see that under his protective gear, his shirt is drenched with sweat, sticking to his broad back.

Reason tells me to put up a bit of a struggle. But after hanging by a thread between life and death for an entire night, I seem to be unable to triumph over the tiny greed in my heart.

The doctor from the ambulance comes over to help, but Gavin waves a hand at him, signalling that there’s no such need.

He walks forward by around ten metres, leaving the site of the ruins. He sees me down on the hood of a STF car.

His brows are furrowed, looking as though he’s suppressing his emotions. My gut feeling tells me that he’s angry.

MC: ...I was wrong! I was wrong because I shouldn’t have gone running around in the middle of the night, and troubling the STF to rescue me. As for using the community’s resources, I’ll be sure to do a serious self-reflection.

MC: I guarantee that this is the only time. There won’t be a next time!

Gavin was probably about to say those things to me, and didn’t expect that I’d acknowledge everything. So he remains silent for a period of time.

Although are elements of a joke in my words, I shoot him a resolute, apologetic and sincere expression.

I know that he’s worked hard for an entire night, and has been worried for an entire night.

After a moment of silence, he releases a faint sigh.

Gavin: You said it yourself - there won’t be a next time.

While he speaks, he reaches out to place a hand on my head--

MC: Ah it hurts...

The back of my head suddenly hurts, and I exclaim softly. When I reach out to touch it, I discover that there’s a big lump on the back of my head.

Gavin: You’ll only learn your lesson after experiencing some pain. I’ll send you to the hospital for a check up later.

MC: No need, I...

Information must have been sent through his earpiece. Gavin lifts his hand to signal that I should be quiet. He leans his head to the side, listening seriously.

Thinking that the search and rescue operation has yet to be completed, and that he definitely has other things he’s busy with, I hop down from the hood of the car, making a “I’m off” hand gesture towards him.

The world around me suddenly darkens a few times--

My legs grow weak, and my vision dims. Dimmer and dimmer...

Just before I lose consciousness, I seem to feel Gavin’s hand on my cheek, the rough fabric of the military gloves, his calloused finger pads...

I feel it all.

Doctor: The nuclear magnetic resonance shows that it’s just a mild shock of the brain. It’s nothing serious. The loss of consciousness is only temporary. It could also be due to low blood sugar levels and insufficient rest.

Doctor: If you’re worried, she can remain in the hospital for observation for two days. Are you a family member of the patient? I’ll bring the documents over in a while.

Gavin: All right.

With a sound of acknowledgement, the doctor leaves the ward.

The girl lying on the bed hasn’t regained consciousness. The IV on the back of her hand is strung to glucose.

Gavin walks over, reaching out to brush aside her fringe, which is damp with sweat. His brows furrow slightly, as though he’s angry. As though he doesn’t know who he should be angry with.

Gavin: ...why are you so bold - daring to go anywhere on your own.

He sits on a chair in front of the bed, leaning against the back of the chair in fatigue.

His deep gaze sweeps past her pale cheeks and haggard shoulders, stirring up great waves within his eyes which differ from usual.

After a while, deep breathing fills the quiet room.

Sunlight pours in through the curtains, chasing away all the darkness and unease of the night before.

Phone call: here

🦮 MOMENTS 🦮

Gavin’s Post: The team received a box of canned dog food.

MC: I don't know the address of the base for search and rescue dogs, so I could only send them to you.

Gavin: Got it. I’ll send it to the base.

Gavin’s Post: The team received a box of canned dog food.

MC: I sent it - it’s for Little Grey.

Gavin: They don’t eat outside snacks, but I’ll convey your kind regards to them.

Gavin’s Post: The team received a box of canned dog food.

MC: Only cans of dog food? Captain Gavin, check the box again...

Gavin: A silk banner for Little Grey? All right, I’ll accept it on its behalf.

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc gavin #this date left me feeling so emotional T^T

199 notes · View notes

seacottons · 4 years

Text

The Art of Mischief

pairing: wooyoung x reader

genre: disgusting fluff. absolutely disgusting

wc: 4k ( idk how that happened )

warnings: some foul language

five times wooyoung pranks you for his annoying tiktok videos, and the one time you pay him back.

“Baby, I’m home!”

You were greeted with the sound of oil sizzling, and the smell of spices and meat as you stepped into your shared home with your boyfriend.

You bounced happily into the kitchen, sock feet thudding gently onto the wooden floor boards as you made yourself over to where your lover was stirring a pot of stew. Wrapping your arms around his waist, you tucked your chin onto his shoulder and stood onto the tips of your toes to glance down at the concoction he was preparing.

“What’chya making, Woo Bear?” Your grip around him tightened as you beamed, nose grazing the shell of his ear. You blinked as you peered expectantly at the silent, black haired male. His airpods nestled comfortably in his ears, dark eyes trained expertly at the meat and onions over the stove. He made no move or sound to acknowledge your presence, “Babe?”

Releasing your hold around him, you stood by his side, hip bumping into his playfully as you carefully tucked your head down and over the pans to catch his gaze. Suddenly, the ingredient list of the spice mix bottle became so damn interesting, as he examined it with a piercing gaze. The naive smile on your face drooped.

You wondered if San gave him something strange to smoke today.

Blinking in confusion, you tried again, voice softer this time.

With a wave of your hand in front of his face, you were sure he would snap out of whatever spell he was under, “Woo Bear? Hello?” He turned his back to you and grabbed a pair of silicone tongs to flip the slabs of beef, head bobbing to the sound of music playing in his ears, “Love, what’s wrong? Are you mad at me?”

You leaned towards him, brows shooting up in worry as his eyes drifted from the meat to the soup, hands working to lower the heat under the two, all the while ignorant to your presence. You shook his shoulder rather forcefully.

Your patience wore thin at this point. This was very out of character for Wooyoung. Where was the ceaseless teasing and the loud howls of laughter?

He even had the audacity to whistle whilst ladling a small amount of the kimchi stew he was brewing to give it a taste. This fucker.

Your hand flew to give his ass a loud slap as you croaked out in disbelief, “Jung Wooyoung, why are you ignoring me!?”

If your actions and words had any effect on him at all, he made no sign of it, and instead decided it will be a good time to season the soup with more salt. Giving it another taste test, you watched with a suspicious glare from his right as he slurped the soup quite noisily. You stepped closer, frame flush against his side as you leaned your face to silently squint at him, the tip of your nose just barely grazing the side of his jaw as you made sure to huff to showcase your anger. His brown orbs flickered to the right, and his jaw tightened in an attempt to contain his giggle. The muscles in his face strained as he pursed his lips harshly, breath hitching in his throat as you practically glued your face onto his own.

Wooyoung choked. He threw his head to the left, a mixture of a snort and cackle escaping his throat. You eyed him suspiciously as he hunched forward, hand gripping the edge of the countertop as he practically wheezed at your fuming face, “What’s going on-“

Your jumbled thoughts came to an abrupt halt, brows quirking up in curiosity as he pointed to one of the shelves behind you. Your eyes met the sight of his phone safely tucked against a few cans, camera facing you. Your lips pressed into a thin line as you gazed at him in unamusement, rolling your eyes as you playfully smacked him with the nearest hand towel, “That’s not funny. I was really worried you were mad at me, you bum,” you pouted against his lips as he held onto your frame whilst pressing numerous apologetic pecks onto your face.

“I’m sorry, but I couldn’t help but try that one on you,” he uttered against your skin, “You’re so cute when you’re worried.”

Golden beams of sunlight streamed through the thin white curtains of your room, the faint sound of birds chirping and cars honking waking you from slumber. Nestling further into Wooyoung’s hold, you buried your face into the crook of his neck, leg thrown onto his side as you clung onto him groggily. Pressing a soft kiss against the expanse of his neck, you mumbled a raspy ‘good morning’, lids fluttering open just a fraction before quickly fluttering back shut.

An extra half hour of sleep won’t hurt, seeing as Wooyoung wasn’t even awake yet. You adjusted your position, bed sheets rustling gently as you clung onto the male.

A dreamy smile found itself onto your features as you instinctively gripped onto him tighter, your breath fanning out against the shell of his ear.

Since when did Wooyoung go blonde?

Your puffy eyes fluttered open to gaze at the blonde strands tickling your nose, head lifting up in confusion. You swore he had black hair last ni-

You froze in dumbfounded disbelief at the sight of San underneath your frame.

Seconds ticked by, and your head tilted in confusion whilst also leaning forward, silently doubting your eyesight for a moment.

Why was San in your house?

Why was San in your bed?

Why was Wooyoung not in your bed?

It takes a few seconds for you to fully process the sight,the reels in your mind slowly churning after a long pause.

A pair of innocent brown eyes met your gaze, “Good morning?”

You threw yourself off of him with uncalculated movements that left you struggling with the the confines of the comforter, your bum thudding hard onto the carpeted floor as you emitted a wail of shock. Your hands slammed against your frame instinctively, shoulders sagging and lips parting to emit a sigh of relief at the feeling of clothes. You shot up and grabbed the unsuspecting San by the collar of his shirt, tugging him forward and demanding to know what on earth he was doing in your bed of all places this early in the morning. He squawked in astonishment, face contorting with fear and worry whilst pressing his palms against your shoulders in a failed attempt to keep you at bay.

“(Y/n)! Calm down- it was Wooyoung’s idea! I swear, I didn’t do anything—”

Your head shot up, and ironically enough, the first thing to catch your gaze was Wooyoung’s phone blatantly placed onto the middle of your dresser, the culprit weakly wheezing against the doorframe of your room, pained eyes glazing with unshed tears and visage a bright red from his silent and uncontrollable laughter.

“Baby- I’m sorry!” his eyes widened while watching you grab onto one of the pillows, weakly attempting to scoot back out of the room.

“Jung Wooyoung, you rat, you’re dead!”

“Baby!” you called out happily while slipping into a comfortable pair of slippers as you screeched into the hallway of your home, “I got you the strawberry croissants you were craving last night!” You peeked your head into your bedroom, eyes searching for the black haired male, “Baby?”

You paused as you heard the sound of running water and Wooyoung’s singing emitting from the bathroom. Knocking on the door, you cupped your mouth and leaned against the wooden frame, “Baby, I’m home! Don’t take too long!”

You giggled as he continued to belt out high notes as he showered, and you shook your head while making your way over to the kitchen to brew a batch of coffee to go along with the pastries you bought. A chime from your phone caught your attention. Absentmindedly digging through the cabinets, your actions came to an abrupt halt as you noticed a message from Wooyoung himself.

‘Baby! I’ll be home soon. Might stop to get us take-out~’

You quirked a brow, glancing at the time the message was sent.

Peering at the clock against the wall and back to your phone, your mind spun in an attempt to find a clear and rational explanation. You texted him back in confusion, the sound of his singing still audible from the kitchen.

‘I’m home? Aren’t you in the shower?’

You paused minutes after you loaded the coffee machine with water and coffee grinds to check on your phone, lips pursing in annoyance at the lack of response from your lover.

The scent of coffee wafted through the kitchen and the soft click of a door handle caught your attention, your heart practically skipping a beat in wonder.

Who was that?

You took tentative steps to peek at down the corridor, visibly taken aback at the sight of your boyfriend, “Hey, babe! I grabbed some chicken pasta and-“

“Wooyoung!?”

He gave you a quizzical look at the sudden volume. Walking over to you with a wary expression, he prodded your nose and shot you a grin, “The one and only. Want an autograph, babe?”

“If you’re here, then who’s in the shower?”

“What?”

“Someone’s in our bathroom! Who did you let in!?”

“What are you talking about, baby?”

You feel an onslaught of a headache starting. Why must your days always be this chaotic?

You rushed towards the bathroom with heavy thuds, the pads of your finger working hastily to unlock the knob with the lock pick you kept above the door frame. Swinging the door open roughly, your hands immediately grabbed the closest weapon— Wooyoung’s frilled toothbrush–, your eyes narrowing in suspicion at the shower stall, arms extended and ready to aim.

You were met with an empty bathroom.

You glanced at the shower stall— dry and without a speck of water. The sound of running shower head and Wooyoung’s angelic singing blasted out from a small, portable speaker.

Of course.

Of-fucking-course.

The sound of laughter behind you ceased your train of thought, and you peered back in disbelief as you grabbed the device, rushing back to your amused boyfriend, who had the time of his life nearly choking with laughter. You shoved the device into his face in accusation, and your eyes darted frantically to find sight of the—

The video camera San lets him borrow sometimes, sitting innocently in the corner of the living room.

You should have expected it from this persistent fucker.

“You’re unbelievable, Jung Wooyoung!”

Wooyoung begged and insisted on you joining him on his Instagram live where he promised his online fans a mukbang and session of him answering questions.

You complied as long as you didn’t have to appear on camera, as you preferred to eat without the eyes of many watching your every move.

Peering through his round spectacles at the phone facing him, Wooyoung’s brows raised in curiosity as he read through the many comments rolling past the screen. His messy locks framed his chiseled face, cheeks puffing slightly as he chewed on the kimbap he picked up from a nearby restaurant. Your hands appeared on screen as you reached down to grab at a piece from his side of the table, happily munching on the roasted vegetables and eyeing him with endearment as he squints at the screen of his phone, “Are you planning on adopting any pets soon?” he reads after swallowing. Clearing his throat, he swirled his spoon in the bowl of miso soup, eyes flickering up to glance behind his phone to meet your curious gaze with a flirtatious wiggle of his brows, “Why would I? I already have (y/n)?”

The piece of pickled radish nearly dipped down your throat wholly.

“Wooyoung!” you cried in disbelief, nearly dropping the kimbap in the shallow dish of soy sauce. You sent a swift kick to his thigh from underneath the table, a loud cry leaving his lips as his hands immediately flew to wrap around your ankle, tugging up your sock covered foot to showcase it to the viewers.

“It’s not nice to kick your boyfriend, (y/n),” Wooyoung shot you a mischievous grin, brows wriggling teasingly. You grumbled underneath your breath, and he cackled and reached over the tray of food to pinch your cheek whilst cooing obnoxiously loud, “Don’t be mad!” Rolling your eyes, you pecked the inside of his wrist before you retracted his hand away from your face to sip on your warm soup. Wooyoung leaned towards his phone with a large grin plastered onto his features “(Y/n), my cupcake. What did the soup bowl say to the other?”

“What?”

“You make miso happy.”

“That was horrible, Woo,” you mumbled, a failed attempt at hiding your face with a piece of seaweed.

“It made you smile,” he shot back, an infectious grin taking over his features. Standing up, he stretched his arms out before walking over to the kitchen, “I’ll be back! What drink do you want, babe?”

“Just water, please.”

You paused mid-bite as the lights of the living room flickered twice. You glanced outside to check the weather, brows quirking up in confusion at the sight of the clear night sky.

The lights flickered rapidly just before Wooyoung walked back with soft, padded thuds.

“Is this one of your pranks?” you grumbled, eyeing him cautiously as he settled the cup in front of you.

He appeared taken aback, jaw slackening as he quickly defended himself, “What? The water? I swear I didn’t put anything in it!”

“No, the lights-“ As if on cue, the lights of the living room and hall flickered repeatedly, “Oh-.. I guess that wasn’t you. We should get them checked out later.”

Well, that was quite odd.

“They were working perfectly fine all day, though,” Wooyoung mused, his phone catching his attention suddenly, “You guys think it’s probably a ghost? Yeah, could be.”

You scoffed at the ridiculous comment, heart beginning to race rapidly, “Ghosts aren’t real.”

Wooyoung pounded his fists onto the coffee table, the soy sauce and soup rippling upon impact, before he raised his chin and bellowed loudly, “Hey, ghost! Make the lights flicker three times!”

“Wooy-“

One. Two. Three.

You feel a part of your soul leave your body, your voice meek as you spoke, expression pleading for an explanation, “That was merely a coincidence..” you drawled out unconvincingly.

“You try, then,” he chimed, leaning forward with a taunting smile.

“Absolutely not.”

“Let the lights flicker twice on the count of three! One..”

“Wooyoung, stop. This is silly.”

“Two,” he gestured for you to continue.

Sighing at his playful antics, you rested your chin atop your palm as you pouted at the ebony haired male, “Three. Now can we..” your voice trailed off as the lights flickered twice more. The smile on your face instantly fell and you gave Wooyoung a wary glance, eyes widening comically, to which he guffawed in response.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he squawked, hands reaching up to adjust his red hoodie. His eyes glimmered with mischief, “Don't tell me you’re scared.”

“I’m not scared!” you cried incredulously.

“What if the ghost turned of all of the lights in the house?”

The live video suddenly darkened as all of the lights in the house flickered off. The sound of your wail in the darkness and Wooyoung’s laughter rung out, and his phone was the only source of illumination within your dark house. You quickly dropped your chopsticks to crawl from the other side of the table to latch onto your giggling boyfriend, “This isn’t a laughing matter!”

“Baby, why are you shaking?” He cooed, pressing a kiss onto your cheek, “Dont worry, I’ll fight the ghos-“

“Don’t say that word!”

“(Y/n), but you’re always so feisty. Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a silly little ghost?”

You buried your face into the crook of his neck, brows furrowed, “You provoked it! Now shut up and protect me.”

“Babe, it’s okay- I promise-”

You both startled when the lights flashed on, your breath hitching in your throat as you whined fearfully, “Wooyoung, our house is haunted.”

“Can I come out now? You promised me you’ll save some kimbap for me!” a voice suddenly chimed in.

You stilled, head peeking up from Wooyoung’s neck to look over his shoulder where a grouchy Yeosang walked out of the laundry room. You shot him a confused glance, eyes then darting to your boyfriend, who couldn’t help but shake with poorly contained laughter, “See, babe? Ghosts aren’t real. Yeosang was just playing with the electrical panel.”

“You fucking little-”

Swiftly tugging the hood up on his head, your fists clutched the drawstrings and pulled down so roughly that his spectacles flew into the air. Only his nose peeped out of the small hole as he cried in surprise. His arms flew to clutch at your wrists, tugging you down with him and out of frame from the camera, his cackles still audible through the thick fabric as he wrestled you down near Yeosang’s feet. The blonde merely stepped over the both of you, making his way over to Wooyoung’s spot to munch on the rest of the food, ignorant to Wooyoung’s pleas and cries of help as you managed to place him into a headlock.

“Let me move so your viewers can enjoy watching you get your ass handed to you,” mumbled the blonde as he glanced back at the commotion, cheeks round with food.

Wooyoung adored your baking skills as much as he adored you. He would constantly beg you to make his favorite pastries and insist he must have yours because the bakeries don’t have the special ingredient that is your love, babe.

Humming quietly to yourself as you peeked through the glass of the oven, you added another minute to the timer just as Wooyoung’s two friends entered the kitchen, loud boisterous laughter drowning out the soft music playing in the background.

“Thanks for inviting us, (y/n)!” Mingi ruffled your hair with a large grin plastered on his face. He jutted his thumb behind him to Yunho, who stood with a gentle smile on his face, “Your cookies are the best.”

“Our cookies!” Wooyoung yelped, “I helped too, y’know!”

“Wooyoung challenged us to a cookie eating contest, so I hope you made enough this time,” Mingi snorted as he peered back at the pouting male.

“I won three times in a row,” Yunho added smugly, “Your tiny man is going down, (y/n).”

“Oh great, that’ll be fun to watch,” you smiled as Wooyoung cried indignantly from where he was preparing the table with glasses of milk and a timer.

“(Y/n)! I thought you’ll cheer me on,” he feigned a hurt expression, arms reaching out to tug you flush against his chest.

“I will, as long as you don’t vomit this time.”

Wooyoung spluttered at the remark.

“Or choke on your milk,” Mingi added, earning him a glare from the smaller male.

You gently pried him off to check on the cookies, removing the two trays and placing them onto the countertop to cool, “You can have those batches. I have two more to bake, so it’s fine. Just don’t throw up like last time,” you warned as you shook your mittens threateningly.

Whilst waiting for the last two trays to bake, you put away the ingredients back into their respective spots, glancing every now and then back at the trio who settled onto the table with a camera facing them as they argued amongst each other who the victor will be.

A sudden, shrill shriek startled you, the bag of chocolate chips falling out of your hands in surprise. You swiftly turned around at the sound of your boyfriend’s wails, hurriedly rushing over to see what the matter was, only to yelp at the sight of a bloody hand and a tooth laying in his palm.

“(Y/n), are these chocolate chips made out of rocks?” Mingi asked in astonishment as you panicked, your hands scrambling for a kitchen towel.

“Wooyoung! What the fuck!” you cried out in shock, fingers clutching his face whilst ordering him to remove his hand from his mouth, “Baby- open up, let me see! You need to stop the bleeding!”

“Wait, does this mean the game is paused?” Yunho piped from behind you, ignorant to your frazzled state of mind. You had the urge to smack the two over their heads as you growled back at them with such ferocity it made them pale slightly, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Forget the cookies and help me!” you barked before you kicked the legs of Yunho’s chair before turning back to your boyfriend, whose scrunched face was still hidden behind his hand, “Wooyoung! Open your mouth!”

The anguish vanished from his face within a flash, and the hard lines softened as he flickered his eyes up to you, hand peering away to reveal a perfectly clean smile, “Gotcha, again, sweetcheeks.”

You gaped, your last braincell struggling to process the stunt this little fucker just pulled.

The other two snorted in laughter at your flabbergasted expression, before hastily clamping their mouths shut as you tugged on his ear dragging him to the side slightly, “You’re sleeping outside tonight, you asshole!”

“You didn’t!”

“I did.”

“I’m the luckiest boyfriend in the world, I-” he rambled through the speaker of your phone as you put away the last of the laundry, “(Y/n), babe- seriously, you’re the best. Fuck- I love, love, love you.”

“I love you too. Now hurry home or else I’ll give the tickets to Yeosang and San,” you laughed at the angered cry that left his lips.

You were lounging on the sofa when you heard the familiar sound of keys jingling and door slamming open. The peaceful atmosphere was bombarded with the sound of heavy footsteps and wails of excitement from the ebony haired male who swooped you into a bone crushing hug and attacked your face with fleeting kisses. You chuckled at his antics, hands gently prying his face off of your own so you can meet his gaze, “How’d you end up snagging them, baby? I thought they were all sold out.”

“I know a friend,” you leaned forward to peck his lips, “Check underneath your pillow.”

A second later you were left alone in the living room. You trudged after him with a mischievous smile, peeking your head in just in time to see his shoulders deflate, a crestfallen expression finding its way onto his features. He picked up the two scraps of badly cut paper, turning them over to examine them.

‘You’re being recorded!’ one read.

He pursed his lips, eyes catching sight of your propped phone on your dresser as he released a soft laugh, struggling to keep a smile on his features, “Ah, I get it. This is for all the times I’ve pranked you, huh?”

“Yup,” you chimed, arms crossed as you made yourself over to where he sat on the edge of the bed dejectedly, “I don’t mind your pranks, y’know? It’s your charm I fell for after all, but I just need you to tone it down sometime. And no more pranks involving you getting hurt!”

“I’m sorry,” his lips were drawn into a subtle pout as he traced circles with his feet onto the wooden floorboard, “I deserved this, I know. It’s okay. I’ll try and tone it down, though, baby. You’re just so fun to tease.”

“You are too, cutie,” you reached behind you to grab at something in your pocket, before swatting his nose with the object. He startled at the contact, eyes bulging as he stared down at your hand.

“Are those...”

“VIP tickets to see BTS, yes. Only if you promise to stop—“

“(Y/n!)”

You were interrupted by a sudden screech and a flash of blue tackling you down onto the bed, your words muffled against a pair of plush lips. Your shared laughter rung through the halls of your home as you struggled to keep an overly excited Wooyoung at bay, his lips persistently pressing onto every inch of skin of yours on display.

363 notes · View notes

hooniee · 3 years

Text

— ꒰‧⁺paris run away *ೃ༄

↷ heeseung x reader ⋯ ♡ᵎ

↷genre: fluff | comdey ⋯ ♡ᵎ

↷ warnings: not proofread | none! ⋯ ♡ᵎ

↷ synopsis: (y/n) just graduates from high school and feel incomplete but doesn’t know what’s missing. a trip to paris might be able to fix that ⋯ ♡ᵎ

↷ author note: this is @enhypenwriters event of the month! strangers to lovers <3 i think this was my favorite to write out of the three pieces but i feel like it’s lacking some flare :( i think it still turned out okay though. i hope you enjoy <3 ⋯ ♡ᵎ

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .*

you should have listened to sunoo when he said that it wasn't a good plan to travel to a foreign country on impulse.

you wouldn’t say you’ve ever been the most courageous person in your life. determined to break that trend, you planned this super out of the blue trip without much thought.

yeah. maybe this was a bit TOO courageous.

you didn't comprehend what compelled you yet here you were, arriving at paris charles de gaulle airport.

you stared at the large windows of the airport, viewing the plane that you had just left.

the gate for the concluding passengers had been locked by the flight stewardesses.

one of the stewardesses obtained eye contact with you, before shooting a smile and lightly bowing her head.

you absentmindedly returned the gesture, mind elsewhere.

bustling throughout the airport were people hurrying to their connecting flight or slumping into their lover's arms

people carried two or more suitcases with various bags strapped on their bodies, nothing on you besides a petite sling purse and one small carry on suitcase.

as weaved your way through the mass of stressed travelers, you briefly thought to yourself

how the hell did you get here?

2 days earlier

clusters of kids outfitted in blue gowns and caps could be recognized a mile away.

the graduation from high school to university.

your friend minji encloses her arm around your shoulder, your arm resting on her waist.

minji’s mom was stood in front of the both of you, gesturing wildly as she tried to take the ‘perfect graduation photo’ as she had put it

"okay pose! get a little closer, perfect. 1, 2, 3" your friend's mom counts.

the camera shudders which creates a beaming light to flash, eyes faintly twitching.

shrieks could be heard throughout the campus as girls queued up to take their final photographs with the popular guys.

minji's mom draws back the camera and we check the picture.

"it's cute," minji exclaims, peering at it a bit more closer. you nod your head in approval.

you would miss minji, one of the friends you could constantly count on in math class when you neglected to do your homework from binging korean dramas.

"i'll send you the picture later (y/n)! don't forget about me alright? you have my socials and you can always talk to me," minji grasps your hands

you smile, feeling sad at the departure of your best friend, "of course minji, don't forget me either"

"i could never," she brings you into a secure hug.

"sweet pea perfume," you say and she chuckles. sweat pea was minji's preferred perfume and you would miss that aroma.

"i have to go now, but i'll see you around okay?" minji says.

you could notice tears well up in her eyes and she fans her eyes to prevent the tears.

"don't cry ji, i'll start crying," you joked. "i live near here and you can always visit me! my door will always be open."

she smiled, "the same goes for you." her mother shouts her name before she has to go.

"alright, see you around," you wave to her as she leaves.

on the opposite side of the garden, your mom signals to you with your bouquet of red roses in hand.

"are you ready honey?" she asks you and you smile, nodding your head.

the car ride was in pleasant quietness, light radio music fluttering in. you had taken off your cap and laid it in the car seat next to you accompanying with your bouquet.

you had glimpsed outside to see your campus still arranged with your classmates, beaming and posing for additional pictures.

you bitterly smiled.

for the first time, graduation didn't appear like one of those liberating scenes of a movie,

1 day ago

you sprawled on his bed, staring straight up. a fan in your hand, fanning the perspiration that threatened to come.

your eyes match the fan's speed directly above your neighbor and best friend, sunoo's, bed.

his air conditioner was broken. with the avail of those elementary paper fans and the only fan stationed in the house, you were able to find comfort

you questioned if he ever got frightened of it dropping on him when he slept.

sunoo occupies the bathroom that's joined to his room, applying some light powder.

your mind strays, more thoughts simmering in the back of your brain. you sigh for the 10th time and sunoo being exasperated, allows out a loud groan.

it draws you out of your daze and you snap your head towards him."

"what is with you? what is on your mind sunshine?" he shuts his cushion, flinging himself on the bed.

"are you ever scared of the fan falling on you?" you felt the bed dip

"no, it's been like that for years, and don't change the subject. what's wrong?" sunoo retorted

"what makes you say that? i'm fine, " you answer

"uh-huh," sunoo rolls his eyes

it's the blatant eye-roll rather than the hushed one, he implied business

"you've been sighing for the past ten minutes, spill," sunoo says

of course, sunoo could recognize your distress. what sort of best friend would he be if he couldn't distinguish your emotions?

you huff, " okay then"

"i don't know why but i just feel stuck? i just graduated high school and nothing feels different, i mean it doesn't have to, but what do i do now? maybe i just watched too many movies"

sunoo tsked, " (y/n). sweetie, i graduated last year and i'm still stuck here. i do nothing besides go out or stay in my room. no in-between."

"but you have something sunoo. you have a bunch of your friends, you're an instagram star and i don't know, it's just different, "

it was accurate, sunoo was extremely popular. he had a bunch of friends and acquaintances from being the vice president.

sunoo inflated up on social media for his content from makeup to dance practices, a versatile instagram star.

you conceal your face with your hands before emitting a loud groan.

sunoo remarks, "i don't know how i can help you (y/n)? maybe you should try to rest a bit"

"easy for you to say, you, who isn’t dealing with a mid-life crisis, " you whine.

"this isn't a mid-life crisis, this is a post-graduation crisis which is totally normal. how about going out of town? obviously not to paris or whatever but maybe, what was her name again? minjoo's town!" sunoo suggested.

"obviously not to paris"

"not to paris"

"to paris"

"paris"

what about paris? paris was considerably away from your town and had a ring on the tip of your tongue.

you had sprung up, grasping sunoo by the shoulder and shaking him, "you're a genius sunoo! paris is a genius idea."

sunoo's eyes widen and he shakes his head while attempting to pry your hands off of him.

"no, you have to think rationally-"

you released sunoo from your hold which let him stabilize his spinning head.

"and i am! i need something new. being in this town for my whole life makes me realize, maybe i just need a spontaneous trip. "

your words scarcely blur together, adrenaline rushing through your blood as you understood this could jolt you out of your post-graduation slump.

"but-"

"no buts! pass me my laptop,"

present-day

you are currently disliking your choice, anxiety rushing through your veins, but it's too overdue to have other opinions.

you had landed in france and this was a life-altering moment; a chance of a lifetime.

peering nearby, you squint at the tiny english translations of the signs. you pull out your phone.

you open up the camera to see if zooming in would improve it for your eyes. as if on cue, your stomach rumbles vaguely making you startled.

you panicked as the pocket that was previously supplied with snacks became loaded with empty wrappers.

maybe if you would be lost in this wonderful city, you might as well try some of their famous pastries.

your muscles had retracted, the result of finally getting some movement after being restrained in a metal machine that was adjacent to the fiery sun.

you stumbled across this petite bakery and enter, sparingly bowing your head.

the owner was an older lady with her greying hair that designed it to resemble ashy highlights, pulled into a loose bun.

"que puis-je vous offrir?" she smiles.

"i'm sorry, i don't speak french?" you admit, embarrassed

as much as you assumed duolingo and rosetta stone could benefit you on a flight to paris, the only thing you could accomplish to say without messing up is "bonjour"

"that's fine mademoiselle! what can i offer you?" the lady shifts to englsih

you let out a sigh of relief, appreciative for blundering into this bakery.

"may i have your most popular pastry to go and a water bottle?" you smile, fishing out some euros.

you had looked down to the currency that you had exchanged before embarking on the plane.

"of course mademoiselle!" she says, reaching behind the counter and with her gloved hand, seizing a chocolate croissant.

"that will be 4.12 euros!" she rings you up in the cashier.

"is this the right amount? i'm not very good at counting euros," you revealed your hand where the money was.

she nodded her head and took the money, printing your receipt out. before giving you your receipt, she interviews you with a question that you weren't confident in answering"

"if you don't mind me asking, why are you here in france? not to sound rude! but i'm just curious"

you softly smile, sensing the kindness illuminating from her tone of voice. she wasn't rude at all and she was asking a simple question, but your brain struggled to obtain an answer.

"well, i would say i'm here to explore? i just finished high school and life felt incomplete. my best friend jokingly said "go to paris" and so I booked a ticket."

you look back up at her to see her delicate gaze. the rustling of the paper bag stopped the moment of silence

"that's amazing mademoiselle! france is the city for that. you must visit the notre-dam cathedral while you're here, it's beautiful. and maybe even find some love?"

she winks at you and you engage with a small giggle.

just like the show "emily in paris," you could merely fantasize about living a life like hers but it was an altered universe. she was an employed woman and you; a fresh graduate from high school.

"maybe! but i'm not looking forward to dating right now"

it wasn't a lie nor the truth. you would love to date someone right now but dating someone from a foreign country with a language barrier? not the most desirable idea. the owner laughs, handing you your pastry and water bottle.

"thank you for dropping by here mademoiselle! please enjoy your time in france,"

"merci beaucoup" you stumbled out, providing a small wave out.

the airport seemed to be more crowded than before. slowly opening the wrapping, you take a bite of the chocolate croissant and let out an audible gasp.

unquestionably, one of the greatest pastries you have tried in your life.

you promptly pull out your phone, snapping a picture for your instagram story. it was an adorable picture with the bakery in the background with the chocolate croissant in hand.

with "just landed" as your caption, you posted it to your close friends story. almost a second later, sunoo request to video call you.

you were welcomed by a piercing shriek into the phone.

"YAH I WAS JUST GREETED BY YOUR PARENTS WHO SAID YOU WERE AT A SLEEPOVER FOR A COUPLE DAYS? SLEEPOVER MY FOOT? YOU'RE IN PARIS-"

sunoo screeches over the phone and you timidly grimace, turning down the volume as people begin to stare.

"sunoo, i'm currently in a public airport with no earbuds plugged in, can you please STOP screaming?" you whispered audibly to him.

"OH, I FORG- sorry," sunoo sheepishly responds.

"my parents would never let me go this far so i just had to lie that i was going to a sleepover at minji's house which is out of town. plus i'm only going to be here for two days," you consult him.

"you saw me buy the tickets sunoo. why are you scolding me now? shouldn't you have tried to stop me while i was in the middle of buying the tickets?" you added.

"well now i want you to come back, who am i supposed to hang out with for the next 2 days?"

though it was dark in the setting sunoo was in, you could practically see his pouting face.

"you could hang out with jake? or sunghoon? aren't they both your friends?"

jake and sunghoon went to the same school as sunoo and you're buddies with them. you've known each other since middle school but jake and sunghoon were always closer to each other just like you and sunoo.

"jake and sunghoon hyung are busy on a vacation together in the bahamas"

you stifled a laugh in, "good luck being alone for the next two days."

"not funny (y/n)! besides that point, what if you get caught?"

"don't worry, i won't get caught because you're the only one who knows about this .as long as you don't rat me out sunoo," you scowl at him.

"i won't, i won't, i promise but you have to buy me something? deal?”

you roll your eyes, "deal mr. sunoo-shi, i have to go now. i need to try to find my hotel"

"be safe, love you!"

"i will! love you too"

you sulk after the call ends. without your best friend on your side, you felt a little feeble and lost but it's not time to be pondering like that.

paris awaits and you couldn't linger at the airport the whole day.

first challenge

getting to your hotel was a struggling. wandering around a city with no basis of the language besides "hello" and "thank you so much", didn't do enough for you.

first, you had to find a taxi that could converse in english. most people had turned you down as you couldn't speak french.

thankfully, it was a fortunate day and you met this kind lady who had coffee-colored curly locks, gentle chocolate eyes, and light freckles scattered around her face.

"do you speak english?" you crisscrossed your fingers, your legs close to giving out after scrambling for taxi drivers

"yeah, i do mademoiselle! would you like to hop in?" she extended a friendly smile and you had never felt bricks lift off your chest faster.

she opened the back of the taxi and you scouted in, permitting your purse to lay on your lap.

the women examined both directions of the road, looking out for passing cars and entered the driver's seat.

"where are you heading mademoiselle?"

you swiftly pull out your phone to your notes, "hotel le walt paris?"

you corked your eyebrow, making sure it was the right name before she nodded her head.

"a very famous hotel huh? right near the eiffel tower. i recommend that you wait till it gets dark and sit on the balcony to see the eiffel tower with lights. it's beautiful"

you smiled at the kind words of the lady, "i will surely try that! thank you miss..?"

"elena! elena is fine and you mademoiselle?"

"i'm (y/n)"

"it's nice to meet you"

"likewise"

the entire ride, you felt at some peace finally conversing with someone who understood english,

after a 30 minute drive, you had arrived at your destination.

feeling a sad departure from this mellow woman, who turned out to be 19 seeking to make some pocket money in the summer, she was one of the first people that you had grown connected with throughout this ride.

"elena, though it was a short time, thank you for keeping company"

you present her with a warm smile as she unlocks the door for you. you exit the taxi, clasping at your phone.

"here, give me your phone."

you softly planted it in elena's hand. you were perplexed about why she showed you your home screen until you realized you had a password.

you enter your password, giving it back to her. she did a bit of clicking and you could see her hands typing something in before returning the phone back to you.

"that's my instagram, stay in contact with me alright?"

you felt the sides of your lips curve into a slight smile. you dragged her into a soft hug.

"thank you elena"

she visibly hesitant before easing into the hug. she softly rubbed your back.

"i have to go, i might get fired if i stay here too long"

you bided her a fare-well. thirty minutes was an extended time to get a know a person.

and that was the first friend you met in france.

second challenge

checking into your hotel wasn't as difficult. most people could speak english and besides the uncanny looks that you received from the clerk, check-in was pretty smooth.

"here you are mademoiselle" the bellman lowers your suitcase in front of your hotel door.

"merci beaucoup," you smile and he returns the gesture before leaving you.

you look down in your hand where you are grasping the card tightly. you scan the card against the door meter and it flickers twice.

red, green

the door clicks before you push on it and reveal your hotel room.

at first glance, your mouth dropped.

the hotel room seemed better than it did on the online photographs which was a rare possibility.

though it was a small room, it was renovated beautifully.

overhead the king-sized bed, there was an extensive painting of the eiffel tower. a blue chair that held a place directly by the bed along with a little wooden table.

the hotel was fine but you definitely weren't

"(y/n) shut down in,"

"3"

"2"

"1"

before thinking, you throw yourself on the bed having the jet-lag kicking in. the bag offers a 'thump' sound as it connects with the ground.

'ouch that hurt'

you fish through your pocket, pulling out your phone. it was hardly twelve pm and you were already fatigued.

what was your strategy? you were in france for two days and you don't have a plan to do anything.

first things first, you needed to sort out this jet-lag.

1) taking a shower

showers are always a great way to awaken and could shake you from this daze. you endured a scream as your water turned to be ice cold. someone must be utilizing the hot water. that shower unmistakably woke you up

2) skincare

after getting out of the shower, skincare was the secondary way to wake up. cleansing with toner, dropping essence into the skin, and implementing a nice coat of moisturizer to lock-in.

3) fueling with food

food can beat anybody out of slumber if they're fueled with enthusiasm but you didn't have any food on you? that indicates it's time to go out and explore france.

unfastening up your suitcase, you drabble on what you can wear.

reconciling with a simple pair of denim shorts and a light pink tank top, you catch a fast mirror selfie.

being content with the ultimate product, you smile to yourself.

"phone, key, wallet," you whispered, securing the thoughts of having everything.

everything was arranged to go and it was time to tour paris.

third challenge

cruising through paris would be by notably the toughest challenge while you were here.

you had your phone to navigate solely with wifi and you couldn't be that favorable to be able to meet people who could speak english all the time.

you had entered a small restaurant, where you worked to communicate with people in defective french but they moderately understood what you wanted.

after that fiasco trying to order a chicken frricassee, you were able to appreciate your time there along with sending a picture to sunoo who reacted with,

"can that be the souvenir you bring back to me TT?"

you chuckled at the message, knowing typical sunoo, and finished up eating.

eating wasn't the one exclusive thing available in france. there were various activities but you were too afraid to venture any future for the hotel. getting lost too was easy.

that being said, eating after eating all you could do was roam around the city. it was around 2pm and you could spot a diverse crowd of people.

you could see kids. in uniforms that just got out of school or a cute couple that was experiencing their date.

you slightly squint and cover your eyes as the sun is at its highest point.

yes, paris was lovely and you would prefer to travel more but but you didn’ toriginally have a plan

for a couple of hours, you completed wandering around the area where your hotel is. you wished at moments like this that you would have jungwon, sunoo's friend, with you to help navigate you.

jungwon was also a friend you guys met in middle school but he went to your school. very mature for his age and great at preparation.

before you knew it, the sun had died down and it was time to retreat to the hotel.

'ah right! elena told me to look out at the eiffel tower as it gets darker'

you softly tread back to your hotel, observing the blisters at the back of your foot.

you could clearly sense the entire day of walking take a toll on your body.

you scan your key card and fling your bag to the floor as soon as you get inside. you open up your suitcase to change into suitable sleeping clothes.

you briskly cleansed your face and tied your hair back.

you had approached the balcony, guessing how to cautiously open the glass door.

you gradually shift the handle to the right and the door made a scanty creek. you gingerly put more stress on it, opening the balcony wide.

a distinct gasp could be heard from you.

subsequently taking a step onto your balcony, the frail breeze made you quiver in the long black tee that adorned your top half and the sweatpants that settled on your waist.

the balcony was small, barely able to move besides staying still.

you had peered to your right, glancing at the eiffel tower.

elena was correct. the eiffel tower was breath-taking at night. for the first time when landing in france, you could feel in harmony. below you was a crowded street.

it was only 8 pm yet you could feel your eyes droop as opposed to the bouncy pair of kids that ran through the moobs of people.

the radiant yellowish glow of the eiffel tower was able to save you from dozing off. you softly hum 'fly me to the moon,'

'fly me to the moon,' didn't have significance, it felt appropriate in the second.

you hadn't regarded it but a figure had gently peeked out of the other balcony, attentively listening to the silky melody that you were humming.

"nice song"

a voice interrupts and your humming had come to a halt, eyes widened.

you had turned to the origin of the voice and discovered the culprit

the balcony alongside you.

"thank you"

you glanced over, granting him a slight smile before he returns it.

"new to paris?"

he questioned, now you guys facing each other.

"yeah, just arrived this morning, and you?"

you asked before he softly smiles.

"not really, i've been here multiple times but the feeling is something i'll get used too."

you hum as a response

"how did you know to speak english to me? do i really act like a foriegner?"

you were growing more drowsy but this stranger was fascinating. who else could say they met someone and talked to them from a balcony romance?

"english song, random guess"

you nodded your head, not certain if he could see you but that was all you could muster up.

there grows stillness beside the bustling street below until the stranger breaks it.

"i know this sounds weird but since you're new here, would you like to go out with me tomorrow to travel the city?"

that question felt like ice water was just splashed onto your face. the proposal startled you.

the stranger didn't appear like a bad person. been to paris varied times, can acknowledge good music and good at conversation.

as much as this stranger flatter you, how could you trust him?

"as much as i would love to, how do i know that you're not trying to kidnap me, even worse, kill me?"

he stifles a laugh.

"hey knock it off, this is a very serious question, balcony boy"

you snicker, desiring to know the answer than anticipated.

"i promise you that i won't try to kidnap OR kill you. i'm just offering and you can even pat me down before we go out together."

this was by far one of the most peculiar offers you had received but this was THE stranger offer you came to france seeking.

you know sunoo would not advocate for numerous reasons and you can hear his voice already

"number one, dangerous"

"number two, dangerous!"

"number three, DANGEROUS!"

but sunoo isn't here right now. you chose to grab the opportunity. france had provided you luck today.

"alright then"

a moment of silence goes by before you hear him clearing his throat.

"you're serious right?"

he glances at you and your eyes lock. though you can't see that well due to the absence of light, you nod.

the eiffel tower gave you enough light that you could make our curious eyes, tall nose, fair skin that radiated in the soft lighting, and full lips that were curved into a smile

"i'll see you at the lobby at eight,"

next morning

to say you were nervous was an understatement, you were terrified. you agreed to a stranger who claimed to know paris like the back of his palm. you met him off your balcony and now you were agreeing to go a date with him?

"you must be out of your mind!" sunoo exclaimed through the phone.

"well yes i must have been at 8 pm last night when fatigue was hitting the hardest but how can i say no now?"

"i don't know maybe, I DON'T KNOW YOU STRANGER DANGER?" sunoo shouts

and like you foretold last night, sunoo was not a big supporter of this idea. over the course of fifteen minutes, you had been continuously scolded by him.

you cringe, " sunoo, i promise that i'll be fine. i just need you to help me pick out an outfit"

sunoo rolls his eyes, "what are your options?"

though sunoo wasn't supportive of this, he couldn't let you go on a date without style.

you held up two choices; a blue floral dress that settled to your mid-thigh and a pink tennis skirt with a white cami shirt.

"well do we like this guy or do we like LIKE this guy?" sunoo questioned.

"what- well i literally met him last night? so i don't even like him, we're just going out for this one day since he offered"

"uh-huh, then the blue floral dress, it's hot there right?" sunoo says

"super hot," you groan.

you glance at the time, 7:00 am.

"i have to start getting ready sunoo, i'll update you later alright?" you smile

"alright, try not to get killed but have fun too! love you"

"love you too," you say back before hanging up.

you quickly hop in the shower and make sure to not take too long.

doing skincare, putting on the outfit, and spraying a little bit of perfume, you are ready to head out the door.

one last check to make sure you have all the things.

7:58 am

you quickly head down to see several people in the lobby.

a bellman, a pair of teenage girls who seemed like they were dragged here, a couple around the mid-40s trying to check-in, and a teenage boy that rested on one of the lobby seats.

it was evident who the balcony boy was but you just called out to be safe.

"balcony boy," you say.

the teenage boy that was seated turns around before flashing you a smile.

"miss singer,"

you airly chuckle at the nickname.

observing him in person was a lot different. you could see his long body proportion, bright eyes, sharp jawline, with fair skin that complimented his rich brown hair.

a distinct experience from seeing him on the balcony.

"i'm (y/n)! and you?" you ask

"i'm lee heeseung"

63 notes · View notes

slippinmickeys · 3 years

Text

Five Seconds (6/8)

If you’d like to read this on AO3, go here.

October 21, 2018

It had been years since he'd had to employ tradecraft. Mulder pulled to the curb one block over and two blocks up from Darlene's. He triple checked that his Glock was loaded and dashed across the lawn of the house he'd parked in front of, running past the house and through the backyard, vaulting over a low fence and into another backyard. A black and white cocker spaniel came running at him, angrily barking, but lost its nerve when it got within biting range, opting to jog alongside Mulder as he ran through the yard and then down a sidewalk, eventually losing the dog as it reached the end of its invisible fence.

He slowed as he got to Darlene's block, scanning the street for any sign of an idling car, a criminal, an accomplice. He saw nothing but Scully's car -- the one Lily had lately been borrowing -- parked in Darlene's driveway, the hood still warm.

He was quietly approaching the side yard when a shot rang out, and then another.

Heart in his throat, Mulder vaulted over the small railing that bordered Darlene's small patio and skidded to stop in front of her sliding glass door which had been left open, the curtains fluttering outside on the breeze. He moved on tiptoes, waiting until the curtain blew away from the doorway, showing him a clear view into the house. He saw nothing. He entered, gun-first, his breath coming in adrenaline-laced gasps.

He heard a shuffle from further inside the house, then a low female curse.

When he quiet-stepped his way past the kitchen counter and looked into the dining room, he saw Darlene slumped against the wall, a hand pressed to a blood-soaked shoulder. The arm that had been shot hung limply at her side, her fingers still curled loosely around the handle of a pistol. Her brow was pale, laced with sweat. They made eye contact.

Darlene held up a blood-soaked finger. One. "In the bedroom," she mouthed, and he nodded at her, moving cat-like on rubber-soled shoes, wishing he could feel the snub-nosed steel of Scully's Sig backing him up.

He could practically feel the movement on the other end of the hallway, the air tense as an execution chamber, the whispered rustling of clothing, the sharp smell of cordite still hanging in the air.

When he finally got to the bedroom doorway at the end of the hall, it took him a second to see the man in the room, crouched down next to the bed, the gun hidden behind his back.

"Come on out of there, princess," the man said, softly, like he was coaxing a hissing cat.

Mulder felt a blaze of red-hot anger, a parental rage so acute it felt like a tuning fork had pinged off his bones.

"Hey," he said, more of a hiss than a word, and the man's eyes went wide and his gun swung up just as Mulder fired, three times center-mass. The man fell back on a spray of blood.

Mulder threw himself to the floor on the other side of the bed.

"Lil, it's Dad," he said, "Look at me."

Lily was prone under the queen-sized bed, face-down on the other side, but she was looking at Mulder, wide-eyed, but apparently unhurt.

"Are you injured?" he asked calmly.

She gave a quick shake of her head and licked her lips, and Mulder could see that she was about to turn to look at what was left of her attacker.

"Come this way, baby," he said, holding out a hand to her while she shimmied slowly toward him. When she finally reached him, her hands were like ice. He pulled her the rest of the way out and onto her feet, where she stood, dazed, touching her hair and getting her bearings. He moved his body in between her and the dead man on the floor on the other side of the bed, ushering her quickly out of the room and down the hallway.

When they got to the dining room, Darlene was breathing quickly but was still conscious, and she tossed a keychain at Mulder, which he caught one handed. There was a smear of blood on the ring, which he wiped on his shirt.

"Silver CR-V, two blocks east," Darlene wheezed, "don't stop for anything."

Mulder, not heeding her advice, stopped by where the phone hung on her kitchen wall and dialed 911, stretching the cord as long as it would go and pressing it into Darlene’s hand. He pressed his gun into the other and kissed her cheek.

“Thank you,” he said seriously, then grabbed a shocky Lily by the hand, pulled her through the theater-curtain of the breezy drapery and out into the daylight.

XxXxXxXxXxX

They'd had go-bags packed as a matter of course -- Scully had thrown them into the back of the CR-V in the parking lot of the defunct Family Video where Mulder told she and Will to meet them.

He’d leaned over and thrown open her door for her as Will swung into the backseat. He was driving before she’d even buckled her seatbelt.

“Plan C?” Scully asked. Mulder had been checking the rearview mirror more than he was checking the road. He nodded once, curtly. “We should head East,” she went on. “If they’re tracking our phones, let’s let them think they know where we’re going before we lose them.”

“On it,” Mulder said, merging onto the highway.

After a few miles, the tension in the car eased slightly.

"Hey Dad?" said Will from the back seat. Mulder looked in the rear view mirror and connected eyes with his son. "What about the cats?" the boy asked.

Mulder thunked his head back against the head rest. "We'll figure it out, bud."

"Travis could probably do it," Lily volunteered shyly.

"How do we know Travis wasn't the one who tipped them off to our location?" Mulder asked, barely keeping a rein on his anger and fear.

"Mulder," Scully admonished quietly from beside him. She peered back at their daughter who had tears in her eyes.

"Because it was me," Lily quietly, whose face then crumpled.

Mulder slammed on the brakes and pulled the car over hard to the shoulder of the highway, gravel and dirt spitting out from under the tires. The cars that had been behind them honked liberally as they flew by. He craned his neck back at his daughter before the car had stopped moving.

"What?!" he said.

"I -- I," she started, then took a deep breath and continued, "I did a search in a university computer lab a few days ago. Then someone started following me. I lost him-"

Mulder and Scully both interrupted her at the same time.

"-What did you search-" "-And you didn't tell us-"

She looked between the two of them, clearly trying to figure out who to answer first. Finally, to Scully she said, "I wasn't even really sure he was following me. And I didn't want to scare anyone. I did what you taught me to do -- I shook him and then I went to Darlene. I didn't want to lead him home." Scully reached back and put her hand over her daughter’s, who clutched back at her desperately. "And now Darlene might be dead!"

"I think Darlene is going to be okay, Lily," Mulder said. She would have reached out to the Gunmen first thing, who would have sent someone in to protect her. “I called 911 -- she was shot in the shoulder --" he looked to Scully, passing off the conversational baton.

"Was she conscious when you left her?" Scully asked. Lily nodded, sniffing. "Shoulder gunshot wounds are easily survivable. I'm sure she'll be okay,” Scully ‘finished, sounding more sure than she felt.

Mulder took a deep breath, gripping the steering wheel like a vice.

"Lily, what did you search?" he finally asked, his voice as calm as he could make it.

The girl sniffed again and looked up. "You," she simply said, looking at her father.

Scully looked at Mulder and could feel his heart breaking for his daughter from where he sat. He sighed heavily.

“Pass up your phones,” he finally said, “everybody.”

The kids complied, handing over their phones to their mother. Mulder looked at Scully, then signaled and pulled back on the expressway when there was an opening. “Can you pop the SIMs?”

“Yes,” she answered.

“Good,” he said. “Think you can make a Faraday bag, Scully?”

“What’s a Faraday bag?” Will asked.

Scully was studying the phones, looking for the SIM trays on the side of each device. “It’s an enclosure used to block electromagnetic fields,” she said without looking up.

She looked to Mulder and smiled briefly. “I’ll only need a few supplies.”

XxXxXxXxXxX

Mulder pulled the ball cap low over his face and donned a pair of sunglasses. While the car was filling up, he went inside the gas station and grabbed a small shopping basket, filling it up with junk food and bottles of water, aluminum foil from the small kitchen section, batteries. On his way to the register, keeping his face down to avoid the cameras, he grabbed one large foil-lined bag of potato chips and plunked them all on the counter, paying for the lot in cash. He muttered a thank you as the cashier handed him the plastic bag of loot, and he whisked through the door of the station, pulling out the large bag of chips as he made his way back to the silver CR-V. He wordlessly handed Scully all the food but the chips as she was resecuring the gas nozzle and closing the car's gas hatch. Mulder tore open the bag of chips, dumped the contents in the waste bin next to the gas pump and jumped in the car with the empty bag. He pulled out of the gas station so quickly that the tires chirped on the asphalt.

"Mulder," Scully said shakily, a warning: calm down.

Three miles later on Southbound I-69, he pulled illegally into a utility pass-through. He reached into his pocket for his cell phone, and handed it to his wife.

“Last one?” he asked, and she nodded. She had the other three phones up on the dash, their SIM cards already removed.

She went through the supplies he’d gotten at the gas station and looked critically at the empty potato chip bag.

“Do you have what you need?”

She nodded. Five minutes later, her work complete, she looked up.

“Done,” she said.

He took the bag from her, dropped the phones inside and shoved it into the console. They turned north.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Mulder pulled the CR-V to a stop when a sapling in the middle of the two-track made further driving impossible.

"End of the road, guys," he said, and cut the engine. "Get your bags out of the back," he said to his children, "Will, I want you to carry your mom's."

"'Kay," said his son, and made his way to the trunk.

Lily had been quiet for hours. He moved around the car to help Scully out and she gave him a look. Give her something to do . He nodded.

He pulled the handwritten map that Lauren had given him out of his back pocket and handed it to his daughter. "I'm going to stick with your mom," he told her, "see if you can suss out this map."

Lily nodded and looked around to orient herself. When he came back to Scully's side, she gripped his arm and took a bracing breath. Alarmed, he bent his knees to try to look into her eyes.

"Scully?" he said, trying to keep the worry out of his voice, "you okay?"

She nodded after a moment and gave him a toothless smile.

"Just… feeling heavy today," she said.

Moments later, Lily led the way and he lifted a low hanging hemlock branch for his wife to pass beneath. He tried not to think too much about how slowly she moved through the duff.

XxX

When they broke through the clearing, the autumn light was waning, and the shadows lay long upon the ground. They were all of them covered from the knee down with burrs and leaf detritus, and though the cabin looked low and shabby and damp, it did offer the eyes a break from the monotony of forest, and for that it was a welcome sight.

It was a small structure, the original part of it a log cabin hewn from large hardwoods, with an addition on the south side of what looked like a combination of particle board and tin that had been at one time painted red. The corners of the addition -- held up by several two-by-fours nailed together -- did appear to have been chewed on at shoulder height, supporting Lauren's handyman's assertion that moose had been here.

Above the door of the main cabin, which was secured with a latch and rusted padlock, was nailed a grey and weathered sign, hand carved with "Camp Hi-Early."

"Come on guys," he said, taking Scully by the elbow and digging his other hand deep into his pockets to pull out the key Lauren had given him months back in a polished high rise in DC. It felt like a lifetime and another world ago.

It took several tries with the key before he was able to unhinge the creaking lock, and he then had to drive a shoulder hard into the door, where the wood had expanded in the damp and stuck to the doorframe. It knocked back into the interior wall and he finally stumbled inside.

It was dark and smelled of old mold layered with the pungent brine of red cedar — the wood of which was frequently used in construction to ward off vermin. Mulder hoped it had worked. The floor was an old grey linoleum scattered with grit and bits of leaves which had blown in from the small crack at the base of the door. To the right of the doorway stood a tall newer looking gas can which Mulder found was nearly topped off when he bent down to pick it up. Next to it was a long black Maglight which he handed to Scully. He held up the gas can as she stepped into the cabin, her face one of skeptical distaste.

"I'm going to go fire up the genny," he said, as she clicked on the flashlight and shone it into the cabin's dark corners.

The generator, out back on the far end of the cabin near the outhouse, rested on a sturdy-looking wooden platform, and appeared to have been serviced at least somewhat recently. He was more than a little relieved when it started after only three tries.

When he came back into the cabin a moment or two later, Scully already had the overhead lights switched on, and was having the kids pull tarps and coverings off of the bunks in the cabin's addition. She was standing in front of a cedar cabinet, cautiously sniffing at several wool blankets that were folded within it.

"There are some mice droppings," she said, nodding toward the interior of the space, "but it's not bad. Needs to be swept and given a good scrubbing, but I think we'll survive."

Mulder nodded at her and eyed the pot bellied stove that took up most of one corner. There was a chill and it lent the cabin a dank, depressing air. The sooner they got the place warm, the better.

"There's a woodpile out back," he said, "see if you can get the kids to bring in a few armfuls."

She nodded brusquely and then braced her hand against the cabinet for a moment.

"I'm fine, Mulder," she said when she sensed his concerned gaze. "It's nothing."

When she appeared to move about normally, Mulder peered around the cabin as the kids headed out for the wood pile. The walls were mostly bare, but for a handful of cheap Kmart picture frames with fuzzy black and white stills of men dressed in flannel and Stormy Kromers standing next to the rigor-stiff remains of various woodland creatures. There were several mounted deer heads, most looking glassy-eyed and mangey, but for one 12-pointer on the far wall who had a dusty, archaic looking rifle balancing on his impressive rack. In the kitchen, on the wall above the yellowed, bowing countertop hung one color picture -- the patina of the paper suggested it had been developed sometime in the mid to late 70's -- of Clio with her arm around the shoulder of a raven-haired, gap-toothed child, who Mulder instantly knew to be Lauren, whose hand was resting around the barrel of a rifle that was taller than she was. It looked to be the same firearm decorating the taxidermy.

Scully gave a sniff from over his shoulder and he turned to see her looking at the piece.

"Think it still shoots?" she asked.

The thing probably hadn't been cleaned in thirty years, inside or out.

"Think I'll stick with your Sig," he replied. Though his wife had better marksmanship, she'd handed over her service weapon when they'd arrived, deferring to his instincts and the fact that he was currently more fleet of foot. Mulder had left his own weapon at the scene at Darlene's, pressing it into her hand with a quick kiss to her cheek and an inadequate thanks.

He had carried in not only his own pack of clothes and toiletries, but also the meager supplies that they'd picked up in a small IGA outside of St. Ignace, just over the bridge to the Upper Peninsula. It was mainly powdered Lipton soups and Ramen, crackers and Gatorade mix; lightweight supplies that were high in calories and easy to store and make with water from the hand pumped well just outside the cabin's door. He kept them in the zipped duffel he'd carried them in and left it on the small counter that served as the cabin's kitchen.

The kitchen itself was meagerly supplied with a couple of old pots and pans, plastic cups with the scratched and faded visage of Bozo the Clown on them. Thin, hand-me-down plates and bowls. A colander. A ceramic pitcher. In the middle of the countertop, in front of a small window was a large porcelain basin that served as the sink, under which, behind a faded gingham curtain sat an old, gummy bottle of Dawn, a gallon of generic white vinegar and an old metal pail.

Reconnaissance completed, it took him several minutes to figure out how to open the flue on the pot bellied stove and he built a small fire, hoping nothing had built a nest or somehow otherwise stopped up the small metal chimney. When it seemed to draw okay, he added more wood -- which was well seasoned and fairly dry, considering -- until he had a roaring fire. The wood popped and crackled as it burned, cheerful.

XxX

“The seat in the outhouse is fucking freezing,” Lily said as she came in the doorway.

Dawn had barely broken and the light outside the cabin was cold and gray. It had been a long night. The woods surrounding the cabin weren’t quiet, and everyone was jumpy, having slept fitfully on the creaking twin beds in the bunk room.

Mulder looked to Scully, who normally would have at the very least leveled a firm look at their daughter for language, but Scully merely sat there, and when she caught him looking at her, said:

“It is, though.”

By noon, cabin fever had set in. They’d played Hearts with a deck of cards Scully had found in the kitchen with a Joker sitting in for a missing five of spades. They’d eaten lunch. Mulder had massaged Scully’s lower back when she complained of pain. The minutes passed like hours.

By the time it was early afternoon, Will had found a long stick in the trees near the cabin, the end curved like a hockey stick, which he was using to hit pinecones into the side of the structure, each tatty thud further fraying already scattered and jumpy nerves. Mulder finally had to go outside and tell him to find two saplings to aim through because one more thunk into the wall outside where the rest of the family sat and Lily was likely to try to break the stick over her knee and impale him with it, and as far as Mulder and Scully were concerned, no jury would convict her.

Boredom was getting the better of them. Will sat on a bed in the bunk room, running the improvised hockey stick round and round though his fingers in a circle on the floor. Scully fitfully napped, Lily sulked and cracked her knuckles. Even Mulder felt the occasional pang for the dopamine hit of a checked handheld screen.

Mulder stood.

"I'm going to run out to the road," he said, "try to check in with the guys."

Scully, who was laying on her side on a cot that Mulder had pulled closer to the potbellied fireplace just for another place to sit, opened her eyes.

"Are you sure that's wise?" she asked.

"I'm sure the guys have buried the signals on our phones by now," he said. "And I should check in with Lauren -- it's been a while."

"Be careful, Mulder," Scully said, and gave him a significant look.

He nodded, looking at her a long moment before looking away.

Scully had dark smudges under her eyes -- she had slept worse than anyone, the old mattresses dipping her abundant hips into uncomfortable positions. She had reached the stage of pregnancy where everything was swollen and sore. Mulder couldn't think of a more miserable situation for her, his chest clutching in sympathy.

"Can I come?" Will piped up suddenly from where he sat.

"Me, too?" asked Lily, who was looking wan and morose from the small dining table in the corner.

"I want one of you to stay with your Mom," Mulder said, looking at Will when he said it, who got the message and smiled sweetly at his mother.

"I'll stay," he volunteered.

Lily shoved her hands into the pockets of her jeans as she rose and shuffled to the door. Once they were outside, she turned to him, but didn't make eye contact.

"Lil," he said, anticipating what she was about to say, "we'll check on Darlene."

His daughter pulled her lips into her mouth and nodded, sniffing once.

XxX

Mulder pulled the phone out of their improvised Faraday bag and stood on the side of the road, turning it on on a surge of adrenaline. The guys would have known to scrub the phones and whatever voodoo that was needed so that they couldn’t be traced, but he still felt anxiety. Lily stood beside him, hugging her arms around herself. It was October and cold, and she was only wearing a long sleeved tee shirt.

Once the phone was booted, he looked at the screen. There was hardly a signal, which he supposed wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. He walked up and down the road a few paces to see if the signal got any better, but it only ever got worse, losing bars completely. Finally, he stopped and dialed the number for the Gunmen that he’d memorized for emergencies. There was a click after only one ring, and then a buzzing sound. Finally, he heard Langly’s voice, though it was garbled from the bad signal.

“Talk to me,” Langly said.

“Are we clear?” he asked.

The first few words of Langly’s answer were cut off. “--s okay, you’re good. Do not relay your loca--” he was cut off again.

“What’s the status of Melvin’s sister?” he asked, cutting his eyes to Lily.

“--going to be okay.”

He nodded at Lily and gave her a reassuring smile, at which point Lily visibly relaxed.

“Ears to the ground,” Mulder said, “what are they hearing?”

“--put -- unconfir -- danger. If you -- wife -- do not --”

The call dropped. Frustrated, Mulder squeezed the phone in his hand and walked further up the road, his daughter tailing him like a puppy. He tried a further three times to connect back to the Gunmen without success. He was about to turn off the phone again when he realized that he owed Lauren a check in. He decided to try to text her instead, hoping it would go through.

Plan C, he wrote, FM. He pressed send. The phone’s ‘sending’ message shone for at least thirty seconds when he thought he heard the approach of a car over the rise to the west. He quickly shut off the phone and threw it back into the potato chip bag, grabbed Lily’s elbow and they darted into the trees lining the road.

A minute later a truck roared past, pulling a trailer nattily painted in homemade camouflage.

“Dad?” Lily whispered from where she was crouched next to him when the truck was long gone.

“It’s fine,” Mulder said, standing. Lily rose next to him. “Lots of sportsmen up here. It’s almost hunting season.”

They trudged along the two-track as they headed back to the cabin and Mulder put the bag with the phones back into the glove box as they passed the car. Before they left it, Mulder asked Lily to help him cover up the reflective lights and license plate with brush. That finished, they walked on in silence.

They weren’t far from the cabin when he finally spoke.

“You know none of this is your fault, right?”

"What?" she asked, as though she didn't hear him.

He stopped walking and so did she, looking at him in question.

"None of this is your fault, Lily."

"I don't-"

"Lily."

Realization started to dawn on her and he saw tears form in her eyes.

He said it again: "None of this is your fault, Lily. Darlene, being at this cabin, none of it. Your mother and I don't blame you, and no matter what happens, we never will. None of this. Is. Your. Fault."

With that, tears fell from her eyes and she launched herself at her father, pressing her head into his chest and squeezing him around the middle tightly. "It's okay," he whispered into her hair, brushing it back from her forehead. Her breath hissed out from her as though from a release valve. He held her for a very long time.

#MSR #AU #Sequel #Of the Eight Winds #XF #Fanfic #My fic

24 notes · View notes

chaletnz · 3 years

Text

Haikyo Urbex: Obihiro’s Gluck Kingdom

My alarm was set for 4.30am however I woke up just before it anyway due to the sunrise and heat starting to peak into the car. I had been bitten in the night by bugs that presumably found their way inside via the cracked windows that had been opened to allow some night air inside to cool down the car from it’s extra hot temperature built up during the day. I got dressed, packed my bag, and filled up with as much water as I could drink before taking the remainder with me. As I was brushing my teeth beside the car I heard more rustling but I was able to see this time! I saw a large dark figure leaping from one tree to another and then scrambling down onto the forest floor before disappearing in thick brush. Instantly, I assumed it was a bear, although possibly a small cub. It was too big and clumsy to be a monkey and I didn’t know what other animal that large around Hokkaido could climb trees... I sat in the car silently watching and waiting for it to emerge from the forest but it never did and after a few minutes there was silence.

I had driven all the way to Obihiro, a 2 hour detour solely to try and explore Gluck Kingdom – a German-themed amusement park that had been opened in 1989 and then abandoned in around 2007 and indicted to Japan’s haikyo Hall of Fame thereafter. It’s a popular spot for people like me who like to see how nature reclaims these kinds of places once humans disappear. Haikyo is a Japanese term used to describe abandoned buildings and there are well known ones throughout the country.

Not far from my parking spot, I entered a long gravel path through some farmland towards one notable theme park building towering over the forest in the distance. I noticed a small shed-like building with curtains drawn and a car parked outside so very quietly I snuck past, trying to avoid the gravel and walk on the grass instead. As I approached the forest I could hear the distinct sound of bears growling and grew a little concerned, but the noise was from much further north than I would be going... A fog covered the fields in the distance and I stopped to take some photos before approaching the bridge. In front of me were many warning signs in Japanese, English and even German declaring that entry was strictly forbidden. I checked over my shoulder quickly, but there was nothing to be seen for miles at 5am! After picking up a discarded metal signpost stick (for some protection in case of bears), I carefully climbed over the barbed wire fence and weaved between the signs to get into the forest. After only about 10 cautious steps inside I heard a car pulling along the gravel road. Naturally I assumed there were cameras and I had been seen and security had come to intercept me, I ran inside quickly and found a place to watch my entry point from a distance although no one came through. Once inside the forest, the cool sunrise had disappeared and it was hot and muggy with bugs everywhere trying to eat me alive despite coating myself with repellent earlier. A nearby building had a door left ajar so I carefully had a quick look around, it seemed like a hotel reception area, an elevator, some chairs and tables, everything covered in mould and a ceiling and staircase on the brink of collapse. Outside I wandered around what seemed like a courtyard, although it was almost fully overgrown with trees and bushes so I couldn’t see the concrete tiles anymore. I found a fountain without water, some German-style statues and a rubbish bin that appeared to have been kicked over. It looked like a real German bin with “Bitte halten Sie den Park sauber!” written on the side. I’d found the bin outside a row of buildings that resembled what I remember of Frankfurt’s old town and they had been filled with bakeries, patisseries, sweet shops and so forth. The insides were destroyed, floorboards rotting and buckled, smashed glass and other explorers rubbish everywhere (not adhering to the message on the bin clearly!). I could’ve pushed open a door and gone inside but everything looked like it could crumble instantly with just a minor upset. Next I discovered a Trabant that had once been parked in the middle of the park, I remember seeing many souvenirs dedicated to this iconic East German car when I had visited the capital a few years ago. A mannequin sitting inside had been adjusted so that it was pulling the finger. Not too far from here was a model Lufthansa airplane with its wings ripped off grounded for eternity on the forest floor, and an eerie chapel filled with ants and mosquitoes. There were more old German-house type buildings through the trees but the brush was thick and covered with spider webs so I left them alone. It was difficult to get a sense of direction so I headed back to the entrance to try going the opposite way than I had run initially. I could hear a car idling where I’d come in – possibly they were planning to wait it out for me to come out the same way (not my plan anyway) or it was just some unassuming farmer that was up at the crack of dawn to tend the crops at coincidentally the exact time I’d gone inside the park! Anyway I didn’t want to find out so I went the other way but it was a dead end, possibly the main entrance walkway. I was already in the heart of the park it seemed. There were a few other buildings possibly cafes, restaurants, theatres, a toilet block, a wall painted with an arrow and the words “Zum Ausblick” (to the viewpoint) however the Ausblick was inaccessible, the outside staircase must’ve been destroyed and a rusty ladder leaned into a rotted door frame on the second floor. No thanks! I probably wouldn’t have seen anything through the trees anyway. Due to the heat and bugs, and fear of bears I didn’t want to go any further north in the park and started looking for an exit point a little further up from where I had come in. I managed to sneak out through what seemed like a caretakers office with an abandoned car, truck, and some kind of machine possibly a snowplow, and took another long road through farms back to the main road and then back to the car. As I walked out I saw a huge Ferris wheel further north, the park must’ve actually been huge if I had kept on going. Maybe I would’ve discovered rides and attractions (and bears) up there too if I had more patience, although it was so overgrown that I could barely see the buildings that had looked so impressive to me when I had searched on Google earlier. It had been abandoned almost 15 years ago and I guessed that many of the great urban explorer photos had been taken only a few years since closure.

In summary:

Was it worth the trip? Yes. It was an interesting place to visit although a little difficult and scary to venture into bear territory alone.

Is there security monitoring it? Maybe. I’d read online there was loads of security hence why I decided to go at 5am during the pandemic. That car that pulled up after I entered – who knows!

How accessible is it? Easy to get in from the airport side if you are not seen. From the northern entrance it would be riskier as it’s a main road and the walk is much longer to get into the heavily forested areas. Buildings can be entered if you want to risk it, but they’re covered in mould throughout so take that into account.

How much is still visible? It’s all still there. But in 15 years it really doesn’t resemble the cool urbex photos anymore. The trees have grown taller than most of the buildings, brush is thick and it’s difficult to capture the scale of the overgrowth without a drone.

#Japan #Obihiro

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zrtranscripts · 3 years

Text

Season 9, Mission 14: Fort Knox

Tour group

JANINE DE LUCA: All right Runner Five, Mr. Yao. There is only audio surveillance in this room and I have muffled the microphones. We can talk freely.

SAM YAO: I really don't like this, Janine. I mean, okay, they did let us into Van Ark's mystery base, but then they stuck us in this tiny room, insisted we take medical exams. Peter and Maryam still aren't back from the med bay. I can't believe we let them just inject us with tracking devices.

JANINE DE LUCA: We had no choice, Mr. Yao. It was take the subcutaneous trackers or leave Red Scorpion Base. General Bakari claimed he would meet us on arrival, but so far we have only been escorted by soldiers. The security here is intense. Barbed wire fencing, perimeter guard towers, patrols in unmarked uniforms. If our operation goes wrong, escape will not be... [door creaks open] Someone's approaching. [loudly] Which is why they'd better pay well for this job! Don't you agree, Sven?

SAM YAO: Uh... yeah. Yes. Mercenaries, us. Money, ooh, we want it.

GENERAL BAKARI: You can relax. I've relieved the guards in this section, shut down the cameras.

JANINE DE LUCA: General Bakari, there are others in our team -

GENERAL BAKARI: - still in the medical bay. We can't wait. The trackers you've received are a new security provision powered by bioelectric energy. They didn't tell you this, but it takes about 40 minutes for a tracker to stabilize in its new host. We've got that long before your every movement is monitored. That's just enough time. [drops bag on the floor] There are maintenance uniforms in the duffel bag. Put them on.

JANINE DE LUCA: General -

GENERAL BAKARI: I trust you weren't counting on a sentimental reunion, De Luca? There's a mission at hand. Red Scorpion Base has a secret you're going to help me liberate. All of you, out into the corridor. No time to dawdle.

SAM YAO: This place is just a maze of metal hallways, isn't it? Shh. Hey, do you guys hear that?

[distant metallic footsteps]

GENERAL BAKARI: A patrol coming from the intersection ahead. Duck into that store room, quick. [cloth rustles, footsteps pass] They've passed. Those maintenance uniforms will help at a distance, but the patrols here know all the authorized faces. Come on, this way. Speaking of faces, it's Runner Five, isn't it? You gave me this gammy leg. My own stupid mistake, I admit, chasing you on that motorcycle.

JANINE DE LUCA: Perhaps if you had not sided with Prime Minister Hakkinen, General, you might have avoided injury.

GENERAL BAKARI: Is that reproach I hear, De Luca? You were always so quick to judge. Sigrid was a monster, but with impressive ambition. It seemed folly to oppose her, so i toed the party line loudly when she was listening. Soldiers served their country, after all. I hear there's a thief in charge these days. Not sure your vote turned out much more righteous than mine.

SAM YAO: Hey!

JANINE DE LUCA: Don't let him needle you, Mr. Yao. The base, General. It is in excellent condition, especially given we have seen evidence it predates Z-Day.

GENERAL BAKARI: Very good, De Luca. Yes, Red Scorpion Base has been here for many years. Once we get to the next intersection, you'll see where it came from. Where's Tom, Janine? I was sure he'd be with your team.

JANINE DE LUCA: Tom... Tom was killed in action some time ago.

GENERAL BAKARI: Unfortunate. He had a weak heart, that boy. I saw it every day I sheltered you two after your parents passed. Thought I taught you to watch out for each other!

I'm not authorized for this part of the base. I've stolen passes, but if we're caught here, we will be shot. Do you see the turrets bracketing the door ahead? Machine gun emplacements, automated. Look at the symbol on the turret mountings below each gun barrel.

SAM YAO: Those are stars and stripes. Flags, American flags.

[door rattles open]

GENERAL BAKARI: And past the door, a flag painted on the wall. They're not allowed to fly one outside. Red Scorpion Base was established by the American military 20 years before Z-Day. Black ops research, top secret, and they're still very much running it today. Quickly, all of you, there are a lot more patrols in the next section. Follow the corridor branch left, on the double.

SAM YAO: Look, Five, by the water cooler. That's the portrait of the last US president. God, this is crazy. There's still a US military and they're hanging around a base in Tunisia!

JANINE DE LUCA: A base somehow connected to Ernest Van Ark and V-type fungus.

GENERAL BAKARI: You already know about the local fungus, eh? The US military heard rumors of it decades before Z-Day, whispers unearthed by archaeologists in North Africa. They thought it had martial potential, set up a base here to dig for it. They hit on caves of the stuff underground. There's an archive room on our way. I'll show you what they found.

SAM YAO: Wow! Janine, look! Down the corridor to the right, that looks like the war room from, well, every movie with a war room ever. Ah, there must be a hundred screens in there.

JANINE DE LUCA: All cycling through images of landmarks. The Brandenburg Gate, Times Square full of zombies, a toppled Eiffel Tower. General, are these images current? What reach does this army have?

GENERAL BAKARI: Honestly, the US isn't what it was, but the man in charge of Red Scorpion Base likes to keep eyes everywhere. [drones whir] Come on, there are surveillance drones in these corridors. I hear some coming. Forward.

SAM YAO: [whispers] Likes to keep his eyes everywhere? Yeah, yeah, that sounds like Van Ark, doesn't it, Five? If the Americans are running Red Scorpion Base, is he backed by their army? The others are getting ahead. We'd best speed up.

[door rattles open]

GENERAL BAKARI: We're in the main research annex deep underground. This is an archive room, oldest on Red Scorpion Base. If you want to know about the fungus, this is the place.

SAM YAO: But it's just a room full of dusty filing cabinets. Oh, and Polaroid pictures of scientists stuck up on the wall. Scientists in a cavern full of black ash.

GENERAL BAKARI: Certain branches under the Department of Defense saw huge promise in the fungus. They dreamed of perfecting a symbiosis to make humans faster, better, stronger. The early experiments went poorly. People died. The decision was made to destroy the fungus after it nearly escaped containment, every trace burned away.

JANINE DE LUCA: General, the glass tank in that corner, the blackened lump inside...

GENERAL BAKARI: A relic. This room is a memorial. The old research data is all locked away. The lump is a museum piece, scorched rock from a once red cave, long dead now.

JANINE DE LUCA: Then... the fungus is not why you summoned us?

GENERAL BAKARI: Not at all, De Luca, though not a bad guess. What I have for you is much more important. Come along through the far door. Incidentally, you see the old photo on the left, the one showing a team in bulky armor scouring rocks with flamethrowers? They still call Red Scorpion’s emergency response the fire team. These days, they wear powered exoskeletons, flamethrowers integrated. They're what comes for us if we make a mistake. We're short on time. Go.

SAM YAO: Loads of fancy computers in here, Five. Must be in a sciency bit.

GENERAL BAKARI: Ancillary data storage. From here, we can access files from the Red Scorpion's latter day experiments. Listen carefully, De Luca. The base contracted your team on my recommendation. Since Z-Day, Red Scorpion's been short-handed. They sometimes recruit outside personnel. Three months ago, one of my aides went MIA. Any deserter is viewed as an unacceptable security risk.

SAM YAO: Did you kill him?

GENERAL BAKARI: Fellow took a bad fall. I disposed of the body, arranged evidence of his flight to the mountains, suggested we needed help to locate him. Obviously, no one's ever going to find him outside, and our security head is getting desperate. Once she briefs you, she'll send you into the mountains to hunt down the deserter. There, you'll divert to designated coordinates. You'll find buried parts of a vehicle I've had hidden. Assemble it and escape.

JANINE DE LUCA: You are not coming with us, General?

GENERAL BAKARI: I'm rarely allowed off the base, and I don't intend to return to the UK to stand trial. I know you're thinking it, De Luca.

JANINE DE LUCA: You betrayed your nation. It would be my duty.

GENERAL BAKARI: And you always loved duty. As a child, you used to turn your night light out on principle. [computer beeps] Give me a minute with the computer. I'll get what you're here for.

SAM YAO: Um, which is what, exactly?

GENERAL BAKARI: Research from Red Scorpion Base, something that can change the future. The file I'm giving you is encrypted, I can't open it. Did you bring a computer expert?

SAM YAO: Sort of. We, um, lost our equipment, though.

GENERAL BAKARI: The file is too big to transmit without powerful equipment. If you were able to decrypt it, you might have been able to send key details out. As it is, you'll need to get this thumb drive to the UK intact. If anyone suspects you're smuggling data off the base, you're dead, understand?

JANINE DE LUCA: General, if we leave you here -

GENERAL BAKARI: I'll be fine, so long as the operation succeeds. Humanity, kin, and hope, De Luca. That's what this is for. Do not let me down. The head of security just pinged me. The rest of your team is done in the medical center. She wants to brief you all, stat. We need to get back. There's one more thing I need to give you. Through the door on the right. The doctors should be on their break. This way, run!

JANINE DE LUCA: General, is this a hospital ward?

GENERAL BAKARI: It's an emergency care area. Ah, here it is. Five, give me your arm. My research indicates you'll be the best subject for this.

SAM YAO: Wait, what-what are you doing? You can't just inject strange substances into people!

GENERAL BAKARI: The bio data in the injection is a crucial component of the information in the files. The only way to transport it is inside a living host.

JANINE DE LUCA: It's long past time you explained exactly what this information is, General.

GENERAL BAKARI: It's a cure, Janine.

SAM YAO: For what?

GENERAL BAKARI: For everything. Every ailment that plagues humanity, every virus, every infection. A panacea.

JANINE DE LUCA: That's impossible.

GENERAL BAKARI: No. It may take years, even generations to formulate a usable vaccine, but the germ of it is here. The zombie plague has brought such pain to humanity. I accept I played my part in it. But this data, the antibodies in Five's blood, and the files on that drive, they may be the one worthwhile thing to come out of all that death.

JANINE DE LUCA: Then I leave the decision to you, Five. Very well. Proceed, General.

SAM YAO: I'm just gonna, um, not be here watching that. Injections always make me feel queasy.

GENERAL BAKARI: Your trust will be repaid, Janine, I promise you.

JANINE DE LUCA: I hope so.

SAM YAO: Oh my God. Janine, Five, over here! There's a door with a little porthole. On the other side, it's-it's Van Ark! He's unconscious, hooked up to, well, it's like a giant dialysis machine. Looks like it's draining him.

GENERAL BAKARI: I was saving him until last. Good bait to get you here, but if I explained too soon, you'd only get distracted.

JANINE DE LUCA: Is Van Ark running the research department? What are the Americans giving him through those tubes?

GENERAL BAKARI: Van Ark running the place? [laughs] Not at all. The fellow at the top, no one ever sees. Nasty piece of work by all accounts. But Van Ark here, he isn't in charge of anything. Van Ark is one of the experiments.

#zombies run #zrs9 #s9m14 #fort knox #zr transcript #zrs9 spoilers

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ranposlittle · 4 years

Note

Hii I'm a big fan of your writing(●♡∀♡)!!!! May I request a scenario with Kunikida which broke up with his S/O, and then he regrets about it plus his S/O hurt sm? Hope this won't bother you and thankss🤍🤍

Genre: SFW, Angst

Tags: Break up, I used the F-word once im sorry ;w;

A/N: Thank you for appreciating my writing, you anonymous bunny~ thank you for requesting this, too. I enjoyed writing this! Please listen to THIS SONG for maximum angst (stan day6) and I hope this will make you hurt inside, in a good way hehe enjoooy~ ٩(๑>◡<๑)۶

˚ * . ⊹ • ꒰꒱ • ⊹. * ˚

The office chair creaked beneath Kunikida's weight as he stretched his arms up after doing the day's work. His back feels heavy and his muscles sore from doing nothing but sitting and typing this week's report.

Putting his attention back to his computer and the afternoon sun reflecting on the screen, Kunikida squinted to check the time; he still have thirty minutes. While everybody else was rustling about and getting ready to head home, Kunikida decided to check his files and clean up some space on his drive. While doing so, he realized that he can't remember the last time he tidied up his files and quickly scolded himself for being so unorganized. With slender fingers, he clicked on every folders within folders, rummaging its contents and hitting the small button on his keyboard to delete the old items. With each unneeded gunk out of his system, he felt lighter as if his stress was being relieved along with his computer's storage.

Kunikida's eyes never left the screen even if his favorite eye-sore asked him if he's planning to sleep on his desk because he's too afraid to be late for tomorrow, in which he just replied with a deadpanned answer and demanded the man to leave him alone before he hangs him using the very same bandages covering the man's body.

Left in serene silence now, he was able to focus more on his work and in no time, he was almost done with it. The click of the mouse echoed in the empty office as Kunikida went on the folder for videos. He doesn't even know why he bothered since he knows for sure that he doesn't keep such things on his work computer but there it is; a file with a name composed of series of random numbers and letters stared at him from the opposite side of the screen. Kunikida's mind raced as to what the video might be and how it ended up on his computer in the first place. The pointer slowly made its way to the file, he clicked on it twice and the screen turned dark as the video player loaded its contents.

The ocean. The strong blows of wind muffled the sounds of the waves crashing into the shore and the birds cawing around. The camera panned throughout the entire beach, catching some people playing about under the hot sun. Kunikida's memory has started to piece together the beautiful scenery when suddenly, a voice in the video called out his name. The camera quickly turned to the source of the voice and when the lenses focused, his heart stopped. It's you. It's been so long since he has seen your face but yet, you still manage to steal his breath away with just your silhouette.

You waved cheerfully at the camera and he heard himself chuckle lowly. A bright smile plastered across your face as another wave rippled on your sandy feet. It's your first vacation. He remembered it now. He purchased the camera especially for this occasion.

"Aren't you going to swim?" You shouted at him, your face crinkled from the sun's harsh beam underneath your straw hat.

"Maybe later," his own voice boomed in reply. "It's still too hot, you'll get sunburned. Come sit here with me for a moment."

You ran towards him and the shade of the beach umbrella he was under. The sound of your giggles rang on the speakers of his monitor and clenched up on his chest. Your face moved closer to the camera and got out of frame, followed by a snappy sound. A kiss, he reckoned. He can actually almost feel the warmth of your lips as it closed in on his like you always do before and a jolt of pain stabbed in his chest. He wanted to look away, to pause the video and just delete it, but his fingers are frozen in place and his eyes are locked in on the scene in front of him as you moved back into frame with that sweet smile of yours that he fell for.

Kunikida kept on watching as the scene cut off to a view of the sunset. The sound shuffled as he flipped the camera to get the two of you in frame as you shared a kiss. In spite of the pain in his chest, he smiled as he recalled the memory of you.

He remembered how happy the both of you were this time. Even though Kunikida dreaded missing a day of work, he remembered being nothing but excited as he waited for the day of your vacation to come. He remembered how much his heart raced whenever he would see you, his mind clouded with the thought of wanting to be with you every second of the day. He remembered how much you loved him, how you would always whisper those sweet words to him in the most unexpected times, disturbing the butterflies in his stomach. He remembered all the times where he'll get out of the comforting warmth of the bed when you share a night together as he starts a new day. How you, despite being barely out of your dream state, would always wake up before he heads to the door to remind him once more of your love for him and wishes him to enjoy the day ahead. He remembered how those words being the only thing that got him through the day alright no matter what challenge he has to face. He felt like an idiot. An idiot for not saying those words back enough, for not appreciating how good you were to him, for breaking your heart.

Kunikida smashed the space bar, pausing the video to the image of the two of you embracing. His fists balled up as the ache in his heart grew and droplets of tears trickled down his cheeks. Kunikida cursed quietly, wiping the unwanted tears away and looked up to his screen once again. Why? Why is he hurting this way? He's the one who broke up with you. So, why?

He remember that time, too. He entered the room with a heavy heart but he has made up his mind about it. He's been thinking about breaking it up to you for weeks now and he figured that it's time to just face the fact that he's no longer in love with you. He remembered the look on your face when you've processed his words. The tears, the pleading, the quiet sobs– he remember it all.

"Stay," you repeatedly asked him as if you're praying to a deity for a miracle. But he didn't hear you. His foot stepped in front of the other without hesitation as he walked out of your room and your life. Admittedly, he was hurting back then, too. He did had some nights of crying himself to sleep but he knew that it's what was needed to be done.

Kunikida exited the video, shut down his computer and stood up from his chair. It's just a memory, he thought to himself, just an old memory romanticized by nostalgia. He'll get over it once he occupied himself with other important things, he convinced himself.

But by the next few days, he's still thinking about you. He's distracted everyday as the prickling pain on his chest never left him, no matter how much he drowns himself in his work. He was feeling more frustrated everyday as his mind nagged him to see you, to talk to you. He knew it'll probably make things worse but he couldn't think of any other way to settle his feelings. So, here he is, on the corner of Cafe Uzumaki, away from prying eyes and invasive ears. His cellphone on one shaky hand as he hesitantly call you. His thumb moved swiftly across the number pad, his muscles remembering the pattern with all the times he dialed the same set of numbers to hear your voice on the other line. Kunikida gulped thickly as he once again argued with his own logic. He clicked his tongue in defeat and pressed the call button.

He heard the first ring. Then, the second. You usually pick up around the fifth ring so he waited. Third ring. Does he really want to—

"Hello?"

Kunikida's heart beat painfully loud on his chest and his mind panicked upon hearing the familiarity of your voice. His hand shook harder and his throat tightened up as he felt so nervous, he could throw up.

"Hello? Who is this?" You asked once again.

With a couple puffs of shallow breath, Kunikida raised his phone up to his ear and forced his own voice out of his dry throat.

"H-Hi," he said timidly. "It's me. It's... Kunikida."

Footfall echoes as people come and go in Cafe Uzumaki, Kunikida's slim finger rubbed at the porcelain handle of his cup. His coffee has gone cold and his thoughts are too occupied with things to say and imaginary scenarios of how this meeting will go to demand for a refill. He was in the middle of another imaginary conversation with you when a voice softly called out his name.

"Kunikida-kun?" It sounded too real to just be in his head this time.

He caught a glimpse of someone standing in front of him through his peripheral and his emerald eyes slowly lifted up from your frame, stopping at the sight of your smiling face. You're beautiful. You always have been. He keep trying to forget but you're just as beautiful as the day he first loved you.

When he didn't said anything and just stared at you, you took it upon yourself to sit yourself down across from him on the booth. A kimono-clad lady came by shortly, asking for your order. Mocha latte, you said politely. A drink you've always been fond of, just like before, Kunikida thought.

"So," you said coldly, breaking off the silence, "are you just going to stare at me or what?"

His face contorted into a mixture of shock and a concerned frown. Of course you're still angry at him, what was he even expecting? That you'll just run towards him and wrap him in a tight embrace like he didn't shattered your trust and crushed your heart?

Then all of a sudden, you brightly laughed at him. "I was just kidding, Kunikida-kun. You're always so easy to tease."

He stuttered in surprise, weren't you mad at him? Through his disbelief, Kunikida's face soften as he continue to stare at your giggling form. A small smile made its way to his lips as he feel warm inside. He have always had a weak spot for your smile and laughter. Just seeing you happy like this made him forget that things are different now.

"It's been, what," you mused after calming down from your jesting, "two years since we've seen each other? I feel so old now."

The waitress came back with your order in hand and you bowed politely in gratitude. You mirrored Kunikida's earlier actions as you fiddled with the handle of your cup, took a few sips of your drink and waited for him to return the conversation.

"I'm sorry for making you come here. I just, uh, I saw our old video. Our first vacation. Do you remember that?" Kunikida finally said, eyes falling back down on his cold coffee. It's been so long since he has to say his feelings out loud, it feels suffocating and liberating at the same time.

"It was on my computer. I don't even remember how it got there but," he continued, not really waiting for your answer as he unravel his thoughts. "I just can't stop thinking about you since then. About us."

A gloomy cloud descended on your booth as you realized Kunikida's sentiment. The atmosphere around you began to feel heavy, nostalgic and sad. You said nothing but your heart ached inside your ribcages as flashes of memories– the good and the bad– played in your head like a movie.

"I think I made a mistake, (Y/N)." Kunikida said in almost a whisper, "I made a mistake."

"Kunikida-kun, I—"

"I want you back, (Y/N). I want us back. We were happy, you know? We were so happy together and we had it all. You loved me more than anyone ever did and I— I threw it all away. I don't even know why I just had to fuck it all up." Kunikida groaned and buried his face on one hand as he tried to conceal the tears that his eyes can't hold back anymore. He cursed under his breath as he failed to compose himself despite feeling like an absolute fool for crying in front of you like this. But he just can't stop. His chest felt like it's going to burst from all the emotions he was repressing. He just can't stop his heart from hurting, no matter what his logical brain is telling him.

You let him crumble down in front of you. To say that you were heartbroken when he left you is an understatement but you never harbored any ill will towards Kunikida. You took no pleasure in hearing his regretful words and watching him hurt like this. You knew that the both of you are just victims of the circumstances; victims of fate and wrong timings. Neither one of you is at fault. It just wasn't meant to be.

"Listen, Kunikida-kun," you took his free hand and held it firmly on both of yours. "You are one of the greatest things that has ever happened to me. You are one of the greatest men I've ever met. You're right, we were so happy back then and sometimes, I still wonder if I can ever have that again."

Kunikida looked up at you, the tightness in his chest still making it hard for him to breath. His eyes are swollen and the tears still wouldn't stop from dropping down his face but the feeling of your hand on his is such a comforting feeling. For a brief moment, he remembered how you used to hold him like this when he's upset, your loving voice calming him down from any nightmares and just you staying by his side until he was alright is his remedy for any traumatic experience he obtained from saving lives. How amazing it is that you still have that effect on him after all this time.

"But what happened to us also taught me a great lesson about life, and love, and about myself. I could say that I'm a better person now because of that experience. I regret nothing, Kunikida-kun. I don't want you to, as well. Don't think of me and feel regrets about the what-if and the what-could've-been. I want you to feel happy. Be happy that it happened," you continued and Kunikida's eyes flickered as more tears came down. "We got to experience something that other people would spend their whole lives seeking. We got to share something so special that we will carry it with us through the rest of our lives. I'm glad, you know. I'm just really glad that I get to do that with you. I'm glad that it was you, Kunikida-kun."

Your voice broke off as you say his name, tears of unknown reason started to run down your face as well in spite of the kind smile you have. Kunikida's eyes widen for a second, understanding what your wise words mean. It means he's not getting you back. It means his chance had passed and no matter what he does, he knows that things will just stay the way they are. No amount of apology or regret will bring you both back at the time where your love for each other is as bright as the sun that was shining on that one vacation day.

His jaw clenched as another stabbing pain jolted on his chest. "I understand," he said and managing to muster a smile. "I understand," he repeated although it was more to himself this time.

"Thank you for calling me," you said, rubbing your thumbs against his skin. "I'm really happy to see you again. I'm glad we got to talk."

"Yeah. Me too," Kunikida gave you a half-hearted smile. He wanted to say more but there's nothing he can say to change what's already on your mind. He just have to accept it. If there's anything that he can do for you right now, it's to let you be happy even if that doesn't include him.

"Anyway, I've got to go," you said, patting his hand gently before letting go. You stood up from your chair, left some money for your drink on the table and slinged your bag on your shoulder. "Take care, Kunikida-kun."

His eyes met yours one last time, an expression of a certain kind of fondness can be seen on both of your eyes. A silent agreement was made in that moment as you lingered on his presence; an agreement to part but to still cherish the other deep in your hearts for as long as you live. Kunikida stood up from his seat, gingerly walked towards you and gave you a hug.

"Thank you," he whispered softly. You placed a hand on his back and returned his embrace, rubbing it in comfort.

Kunikida loosened his arms around you and let you go. He let you go as he also freed himself from you. He watched as you smiled, turned around and walked away. He envisioned himself that one night, when he turned and walked away from you too despite your cries for him to stay with you. Kunikida can't help but scoffed at the irony of it all.

He sat back down when you disappeared out of the door. He doesn't know if he'll ever have the courage to heal from all this and call to see you again without hurting anymore. He looked outside at the evening sky, his surroundings looked different as hues of purple and pink tinted the whole city. Kunikida exhaled, thanking that he can see the big picture now, it's just a shame that he had to move so far back to the point that he can't go back just to see how perfect it was.

#kunikida doppo #doppo kunikida #bsd kunikida #kunikida x reader #bungou stray dogs kunikida #bsd scenarios #bsd headcanons #bsd hcs #bsd imagines #bsd anime #bungou stray dogs imagines #bungo sd #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs imagine #bungou stray dogs scenarios #bsd #kunikidamw

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elderkale · 3 years

Text

chapter five

tell me we’ll never get used to it - chapter five

Sometimes he wondered if he had her in his trap, or if she had him in hers. And then he’d wonder if it mattered.

Her truck more ground than screeched to a halt and she was thrown forwards, face colliding painfully with the steering wheel. Theta swore and pushed her glasses up onto her forehead, rubbing her nose.

A rapping sounded by her ear. She pushed the hair out of her face and squinted through the window. Jack waved, holding up a cup of what Theta prayed was coffee.

The door squealed as she threw it open and Jack made a noise of distress, nudging a scratch against the blue paint with his hip. “What have you done to her?” he asked, a look of dismay on his face.

“Been busy,” Theta grumbled, snatching the cup out of his hand. It scalded her throat as it went down and she wrinkled her nose. Decaf. Shame.

Jack huffed and took a sip from the bigger cup he’d been holding out of her reach. Bastard. “That’s neglect, Doctor,” he said, shaking his head disapprovingly. “Who do I send the complaint to?”

“Oxford.” Theta took another gulp of the barley-coffee and smacked her lips. Two arms, she noted. She glanced down at his leg. “Good day?” she asked.

“It was.” He scowled and glanced up, the sunlight bouncing off his dark lenses. Not that many people would have need for sunglasses in mid-October, but, well, Jack. “You good for this?”

“Will be when you stop asking that.” The drink in the cup rattled as she took another sip. It wasn’t doing much to wake her up, but at least she was warm. “Lead the way, Captain.”

It always surprised Theta just how many people they could manage to scrounge up for a body. Nothing but contamination, in her opinion (See the scuff marks you just walked over? The eyelash that fell from your cheek when you shook your head? The dust in the carpet, the group arguing over the splatters? Yes, Johnny, even if it is just mildew). Good for her, she supposed, but also really, really bad for her. Not that she could reasonably argue too much. No stone unturned, and all that.

“Motels,” she grumbled, pressing up against the wall to let a man toting a bucket walk by (See? Contamination! She wasn’t even wearing a hairnet!) (Which wasn’t really anyone’s fault other than hers, but it wasn’t like anyone had offered her one, either). “Why’s it always a motel? Can’t anyone ever leave a body in a park, or a nice ballroom, at least?” She wrinkled her nose. “One that doesn’t stink of asbestos?”

“I think that’s the air freshener, Doc,” said Jack, lifting the tape for her to slip under.

“I think I know what asbestos smells like, Jack.” He ducked after her awkwardly. She sniffed again. Blood. Lots of it. It clung to the air, the smell, giving it a weight like the lightest veil. She could almost feel it seeping into her pores.

“End of the hall.” Jack pointed around the bend. “I’ve got SOCO to clear out. Five minutes?”

She ignored the gloves a passing officer tried to hand her, tucking her spare hand into her pocket instead. “See you when I see you.”

“Five minutes,” said Jack wryly.

She winked and flounced away, pivoting around the corner.

Ah. She stopped dead (oh, no, bad phrasing). Well, that explained something.

She crept down the hall, tiptoeing around the splotches of blood seeped so deeply into the carpet they looked like they’d been there from the beginning. There were still puddles in some places. She wondered whether, if she stepped on a dry spot, it would crack, or simply bend.

Not just the floor, either. The walls were dripping and crusted with red, like a gruesome parody of a bad paint job, and there were even flecks on the ceiling, frozen mid-drip and dried into tiny brown stalactites.

And there, at the end of the hall, the pièce de résistance, the crowning glory, the centrepiece, the highlight. The ebony jewel in the middle of the crimson crown, and whatever passed for a gallery in a world blinded by blood.

Wrong was the first word to pop into her mind. Wrongwrongwrongwrongwrong. Her hair was too bright, too verging on yellow, her fingers just barely too long. Chin too sharp, legs too short. Nails painted sloppily, pink polish staining the skin around the cuticles, a shirt that didn’t fit. Wrong.

Imitation.

Of what? who? what? ???

Pieces of hair tucked behind ears with deft hands, rings cleaned carefully of blood before being slipped back on. Thorns woven into braids like silken ribbons, eyes that were only just too green pried out with care and locked gently between bleached white teeth, jeans cuffed neatly at the ankles. Anchors driven through flesh and bone with what you could even call tenderness.

This, she heard it who her him him whisper, my dear, is love.

A eulogy is not an epilogue. She licked her lips. But you wouldn’t understand that, would you?

She lifted her hand and held it next to her face—the icy chill of death against burning human heat. Drained—no question about that. She wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d loaded it into water pistols and sprayed them willy-nilly.

No cameras, obviously. It’s what she would have done.

She couldn’t find the door, for some reason. She couldn’t find any doors. In fact, she wasn’t even in a hall. The windows spiralled around her, and then they shattered. There was nothing behind them.

It was in her hair, too butitshouldn’thavebeen, turning flowing blonde strands into stiff brown spikes ithadbeeninherhairtoo.

She was running towards the door, and then she was running along it, and then she was banging her fists against an empty wall, and then there was no wall.

She stumbled, and heard something break.

No walls no floors no doors and what was she standing on because it sure as hell wasn’t a sea of shattered glass so whatwhatwhatwhatwhatwhatwh

atwhatwhatwha

She fell to her knees and the world turned white.

She didn’t know how long she stayed balled-up in the corner, arms tight around her legs like a vice, face buried in her knees. It could have been minutes, it could have been hours, it could even have been days—she didn’t think she would have noticed. The movements of the other people were to her like flies buzzing behind an inch of glass. She felt, rather than heard or saw, them passing in front of her, like shadows in a pitch-black room. They gave her a wide berth, inching around the invisible barrier with the care of treasure-hunters trying not to wake a sleeping dragon, or children creeping around a swollen balloon, pins held behind their backs.

Most of them already thought that she was mad (which she was—just not in the way they thought they thought she was) anyways. No harm in cementing the notion.

She felt like she’d been there for days. At the same time, she felt like she’d just sat down. When she was approached, it felt both like it was too soon and that she’d been waiting for far too long.

She’d expected Jack, or maybe Martha. She’d expected someone to crouch down next to her, to duck away from a gentle hand and leap to her feet like a coiled spring. She’d expected to plaster a smile as fake as the light in her eyes across her face and sweep out before anyone had time to ask her anything else. She’d expected to shiver and stumble her way out of the building and make the hours-long trek home down the side of the highway. Maybe she’d even have the good fortune to be murdered on her way. Or to commit one. She hadn’t decided yet.

That wasn’t what she got.

A shadow fell over her, and the hair on the back of her neck bristled. “Get up,” said Koschei. “I’m taking you home.”

Theta managed a muffled noise that could have been a groan, and a minute twitch of her head that might have been a shake. She heard Koschei sigh, and imagined his nostrils flaring in exasperation as he rolled his eyes to the heavens in search of divine guidance. “Christ’s sake,” he growled. She heard the rustle of fabric as he crouched down, and felt surprisingly gentle hands unwind her arms from around herself. She kept her eyes squeezed tightly shut as he slung one of her arms over his shoulders, and wrapped one of his own around her waist. She was just glad he didn’t try to carry her. If he would even be able to manage. She let out a faint, high-pitched giggle at the image.

“You’re not going into hysterics, are you?” Koschei asked drily. She was walking, she noted. Knees bending, bones rolling in joints. One foot in front of the other, muscles tightening and contracting and loosening and stretching. So much put into the simple action and, yet, humans did it with less effort than breathing. Neat. “Fuck. Fine.” She half-stumbled when he stopped, feet dragging against the carpet. “Hey.” He patted her shoulder. “Stairs. C’mon.”

His car was just as ridiculous as she’d expected. She thought she might have been blinded a bit by the vibrant purple (or maybe that was just her—she was still dizzy), and it had no business having that much leather inside it.

The driver’s side door slammed shut and Koschei turned the key in the ignition. The engine roared to life, and Theta felt her seat rumble beneath her. “Address,” Koschei demanded.

Theta squeezed her eyes shut. Deep blue door, paint chipped and worn from where it kept slamming into the wall. Purple couch, strewn with rainbow cushions and worn flannel blankets. Counter, stained with rings of tea and spilled soup. Bedroom. Office, books on the ground and jackets slung over the desk, and photos turned down on their faces. She shook her head and dragged her hands down her face. Where was that, again?

Koschei sighed, and Theta heard gravel crunch beneath wheels (crunchy crunch crunch). “Fine,” he said. “Alright, then. Don’t get on my case about it later, then.”

She didn’t remember what her dorm had looked like. Had she pinned up posters, or photos, or strung scarves and tinsel from the bedposts to the walls? What had the ceiling looked like when the curtains had shifted and let slivers of sunlight shoot through? She’d had a recorder, she remembered, and a habit of leaving it on her roommate’s dresser or her desk in the morning, and finding it on the ground in the afternoon.

Not that she’d cared. She hadn’t spent nearly enough time in that room to call it home, and wouldn’t have even gone back had she not been frog-marched every night. A place to sleep, to work, to sit in silence and contemplate whatever it was people spent their time contemplating. And dreadfully wasteful, she remembers saying. She could have done any of that just as well, if not better, on the roof, on a bench, or in Magnus’s bathtub, and given no one any reason to complain (except Mortimus, maybe, but they’d all known that he didn’t shower anyways).

At most, she thinks, it would have been a mirror of Koschei’s. His had been an impersonal one, she remembers, even in contrast to Vansell’s monotone, showroom sheets and pillows. No point, he’d said, and she’d agreed and forgotten about it.

Koschei’s house wasn’t small. Normal-sized, a jogger passing by might call it. Average. A bachelor’s pad would be the words on a real estate agent’s tongue, and condo on the lease.

The Koschei she’d known wouldn’t have given it a second thought. The Koschei she knows tosses a throw out of the way and deposits her on an overstuffed brown armchair smelling faintly of cats.

He didn’t sit down across from her. She didn’t know whether or not she was grateful for that. “Tea?” he asked, tossing his coat over the back of the couch. “I’ve got chai, ceylon, and some weird pink stuff I got on sale.”

She cleared her throat. “Pink stuff,” she said, a bit hoarsely.

He vanished. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, resting her elbows on her knees. The chair was soft, even softer now that she was thinking about it. Soft enough that she was actually a bit worried about sinking into it. And that was definitely a cat smell.

She’d had a cat once, in a sense. A stray that used to wander around the grounds sometimes that she would throw chunks of biscuit at, until Millenia told her that they were bad for cats. She’d called her (the cat, not Millenia) Stinky, Tyche, O Mighty Ball of Rage, and, on one occasion, after being scratched, Irving (she had later gone back and apologized for her actions—Theta, not the cat).

She puffed her cheeks out and let her breath out until her lungs were sagging and her chest ached. She leaned back and dragged her hands down her face.

She peeked through her fingers and let her eyes roam around the room. Walls the colour of a robin’s egg (She’d never actually seen a robin before, but their eggs always looked very pretty in pictures.) (They sounded quite nice, too—the birds, not the eggs. She’d searched up a recording of their song and listened until Max from next door had banged on the wall and yelled at her to turn it off.), a coffee table covered in scratches and stains sagging under the weight of more books and magazines than she could count (she tried, then got distracted by a headline about a unicorn, Sherlock Holmes, and Jesus), heavy brown drapes she could have drowned in, and an almost-carbon copy of the rug in his office that had definitely seen better days. Faded elegance and false mosaics. About as far from his Baroquian office and tailored suits as she could imagine.

Cramped was a word. So was messy. Cozy was another.

“Tea.” She jumped. “Here.” She took the mug that was, indeed, full of steaming pink liquid. She sniffed it suspiciously.

Koschei leaned against a wall, next to an unframed painting of a desert scene. Theta felt distinctly like the tumbleweed should have been bouncing through the room, not the canvas. He shifted his own mug from one hand to the other. Theta raised her own and took a cautious sip. It tasted, to her (pleasant) surprise, more like lemons than boiled Pepto-Bismol. She took another, larger sip.

Koschei tugged idly on the string of his teabag, watching it bob up and down in his mug. “Wanna talk?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Don’t know,” she said. “Is this therapy?”

He swirled his teabag around in his cup. “This is me trying not to be an arse.” A few drops slashed over the rim, and he caught them on his finger before they fell to the ground.

“Huh.” Theta took another sip. “Needs work.”

“Yeah?” The floorboards should have creaked when he walked around her. It felt like they might have, at least. It felt like they did.

They didn’t, of course. Koschei probably wouldn’t have lived in a house with creaky floorboards even when held at gunpoint. Probably. “What happened?” he asked.

“Nothing.” She took a gulp of tea, then coughed as it scalded her throat on the way down.

“Bullshit.”

“Is that any way to talk to a patient?” she asked sardonically.

“You’re not a patient,” Koschei pointed out. “Not right now.”

Theta scowled down into her pink stuff. “Bad day,” she muttered.

“How?”

She shrugged. “Tired, I guess. Unprepared.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ever chucked a body out a window?” Theta asked sarcastically, scratching the back of the head. “Bet you anything someone down there screams.”

“You’re not a pedestrian.”

“Analogy, Doctor,” Theta grumbled, dragging her hand through her hair. Her fingers caught on a knot and she tugged at it irritably. “You know, that might just be the nicest thing you’ve said to me lately?”

“A pedestrian, Doctor, a pedestrian.”

She snickered. “Sure.”

“You’re tedious. A lifeless lump. I can feel myself falling asleep already.”

Theta dragged air in through her teeth. “He—there was a serial kidnapper,” she told him. “Sounds a bit silly, saying it like that, now I think about it. ‘Serial kidnapper.’ Most people don’t talk about them, you know? Not in many crime shows, I reckon. Doesn’t sound like the brightest idea, either. Serial kidnapper. Kidnapper, but serial. What’s one person going to do with that many people, anyways?”

She was rambling, she knew. It was the most she’d ever said at one time about it since she’d given the report, but she couldn’t seem to stop. “It wasn’t hard, in the end, to find him. Wasn’t too clever. Not clever enough, at least. You know?”

“I know,” said Koschei.

“It was a house in Leeds,” said Theta. “His house. The house wasn’t the kidnapper. That’s where he was keeping everyone. House in Leeds, on Satellite and Fifth, in the basement. Cliché, I guess, but if it ain’t broke. . .” She waited for him to cut her off. He didn’t. She took a big, harsh gulp of her tea, and coughed when it went down the wrong way.

“I didn’t—” Her fingers turned white against the mug. “It was my fault,” she said. “I know that. Jack knows that. She probably did, too.”

“Who?”

Shit.

Theta drained the last few drops of tea. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Obviously it does,” said Koschei sardonically.

“You know.”

“Not from you.” Was it her imagination, or was that softness in his voice? She tried to take another sip from the empty mug. “What are you afraid of?”

Not you, she didn’t say. Not myself. Not her.

Slowly, carefully, she lowered her right hand into her lap. She turned it palm-up, shakily uncurling her fingers. “Her name was Rose,” she quietly. “She was my—” Girlfriend sounded wrong; young, trivial, insouciant. Fiancée hurt. Partner made her want to scream. “She was my friend,” she said softly. “She was my best friend. More than that. She was everything. More than that, even. And I don’t think I ever even told her.”

“Why?”

She bared her teeth bitterly. “Because I’m an idiot,” she said, the mug hot beneath her palm. “Isn’t that what you always said?”

His fingers twitched against his knees. “What happened to him?” he asked. “The kidnapper.”

Theta shrugged. “Ran,” she said. Ran past right in front of me and I couldn’t even get up to stop him. “I don’t think he knew what he was doing, not really. He was half-mad to begin with. They caught up with him a day later.”

“What else?”

She closed her eyes and bodies laid out neatly like books on a shelf metal doors swinging shut blonde hair vanishing behind cold unforgiving steel pain in her hand weight inside her heart and another one in her pocket against it let her breath out through her nose.

“She looked like her,” she said. “That girl. On the wall. She looked like Rose.”

“Do you ever think about revenge?” The question burst forwards abruptly, like water from a split balloon.

She frowned. “Where’s that coming from?”

“It’s a question,” said Koschei, eyes never moving from hers. “Do you?”

Theta tapped her fingers on the rim of her mug. “No point,” she muttered. “Just causes more trouble.”

“That’s changed,” Koschei muttered.

“Be bad if it hadn’t, though, wouldn’t it?” Theta put the empty mug down on the coffee table, then instantly regretted it. She settled for picking at her fingernails instead. “I think that’s what people call growth.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Too bad. It’s all I’ve got.”

“Hypothetically?”

She prodded at a hangnail, and imagined peeling it away. She could see it in her mind, clear as day: the thinnest strip of skin hanging from her hand like a loose thread and a trail of red in its wake. “I hear pushing them off cliffs works great.”

“Yeah?” he said almost before she’d finished speaking.

“No.” She pried at the tip of one nail with another. “It’s shit, by the way. The cliff thing.”

He shrugged. “Same goes for most split-second decisions, I’d wager.”

“Split-second.” He shrugged again.

“I’d assume.” He moved around her, and she shifted back in her chair as he bent over the coffee table. He swept a newspaper from last month and a magazine headlining an article about a man with twelve fingers out of the way and sat down in front of her. “You still haven’t said.” He put his mug down next to himself.

She watched it teeter precariously on the stack of magazines, pinching the tip of her finger until it turned red. “Does it matter?”

“Will you tell me if I say yes?”

She huffed. “I don’t think you’re supposed to say that.”

“Oh, go on, Theta.”

She shrugged. “Kill him, I suppose.”

“You suppose?”

“It’s not like I’ve thought about it.” Not actively, at least.

“How?”

She dragged a breath in through her teeth. “I don’t know,” she said.

“But you would.”

“I would.”

He cocked his head. “That doesn’t bother you?”

“Why would it?”

He shrugged. “Ethics?” he suggested. “Moral code? You’ve got one, haven’t you?”

“You know, sometimes it sounds like you’re one bad day away from being Harold Shipman.”

He snorted. “Well?”

Theta pressed her finger against her palm. The crack echoed through the room. “Hannah,” she said, “said it’s alright. That it’s cathartic.”

“Hannah?” Koschei asked sharply.

“Yup.” Theta popped the knuckle on her next finger. “She’s a therapist. Maybe you’ve met?”

“I thought you didn’t see anyone,” said Koschei, sounding very much like he’d just been tricked and wasn’t too happy about it.

“I didn’t.” Theta cracked her pinkie. “Ianto tricked me into picking Jack up. She was very nice to talk to.”

“Yeah?”

“‘Course. Lovely woman. Like cats. Your chair smells like one, you know?”

“A woman?”

“A cat.”

“Mhm. Would you like me to arrange the funeral now, or later?”

She kicked at his shin, and he stomped on her toes. Theta’s scowl deepened, and Koschei just managed to yank his leg out of the way in time. Theta flopped back in her seat and glared at him.

Koschei leaned back on his arms. His eyes followed the faint shaking of her right hand. “Would you?” he asked softly. And then, “I would.”

Did.

Theta looked down, letting her hair fall over her face. “They thought it was me,” she said suddenly. Her nail throbbed where she’d tugged at it. “They thought it was me that—you know. Glospin.” The name felt foreign on her tongue, misshapen in her mouth. “Somehow.” She dug her nails into the back of her hand until her fingers shook.

He reached forwards and stilled her hands with his. They were warm, feverish, almost, against the cold of her fingers. “Did you ever read my letters?” he asked. “I thought—” He took in a deep, rattling breath, then let out one that sounded like a laugh. “I don’t know. No one else ever said anything about it to me, but I thought that the others were writing you, too.” His hands tightened around hers. “Did you even open them?” he asked, sounding very much like he already knew the answer.

She tried to clench her fists, and he tightened his fingers around hers. “Wasn’t exactly high on my list of priorities,” she muttered.

“What was?”

“Believe it or not, Koschei, you’re not the centre of the universe,” she bit out. “Or mine, either.”

He didn’t let go of her hands, and she didn’t pull them back, either. He toyed with the tip of her pinky—the crooked one, from when she’d broken it punching a cabinet when they were twelve. “Why?” he asked again.

She looked down at their hands. His were fine-boned and calloused, the skin around his nails darkened and bruised. Hers were smaller, but rougher, the dirt under her nails a stark contrast to his careful manicure, and shaking like leaves in the wind.

What a pair they made.

“You’d want to talk,” she said. “You’d want to talk about it.”

His fingers wrapped around her wrist, twining like leaves of grass reclaiming what was theirs. Serpents drawn to the light, closer and closer until the toothy jaws could snap shut over them. “Sounds like the pot calling the kettle black to me,” said Koschei. “You’re the talker. Always yammering.”

She rolled her eyes. “You wouldn’t have let it go,” she said. “You know you do that, right? Grab onto something and just hang on?”

He rolled his eyes. “Pot,” he said, holding up their hands, “meet kettle.”

She snorted, and tugged her hands back.

He let it go. For now.

It hadn’t been a gift. Not to her.

He wasn’t an idiot; he knew that.

Still.

It had been something.

He tugged the oven door open, and a wall of heat hit him in the face. He grimaced and squinted through the wavering haze.

She’d never been good at taking care of herself. He’d bring her something tomorrow.

#no! that's not how you show affection!#tmwnguti #masterversary #doctor who #dw #fanfiction #writing #doctor who fanfiction #fanfiction update #the master #dhawan!master #the doctor #thirteenth doctor #thoschei #spydoc #au

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charg3e · 4 years

Text

Siege-o-ween Day 6!

‘She’s an angel’,Yumiko thought the first time she laid eyes on her. Her. Nienke Meijer, the newest engineer that arrived at Rainbow.

Looking back, she should have noticed it a lot sooner. The way Nienke had talked about the existence of God, the likeness of her and Mark when it came to the doings of Him, the arguments she had with the devout Olivier. She talked about it as if she had been there, seen the actions He had taken, the curses and blessings He had thrown upon humanity.

The way she got along with the explorer, Sanaa, explaining the histories and cultures of far off lands despite, on her travel records, never travelling there in the first place. The ways she had looked at the sky in distaste and longing when she first asked Yumiko to join her on the rooftop.

With a tempting smile on her lips as she chose to explain the constellations instead of whatever had haunted her living among them.

The mission that she barely survived and yet, Nienke came out of it injured yet recovered nonetheless. A horrible mission that no human would have survived, discounting Zofia of course, even then one would not have come out of it without career ending injuries.

_________________________________________________________________

The cool suburban winds made Yumiko shiver even in her jacket, as she made her way to the back trench of the building. The sleek building towering over her was darkened, blending in with its surrounding of dim lights and various abandoned family owned businesses. If it weren’t for the intel provided by the one and only Aria de Luca, ‘infiltrator extraordinaire” according to Nienke.

The admiration and relationship between Aria and Nienke made her jealous sometimes, the easygoing way they talked to each other and their ‘secret’ language that Yumiko didn’t understand. It was Latin, as she later heard from Adriano.

Shaking the personal emotions away, Hibana put her gun on low alert and checked the window, jumping in when her partner gave her the all clear to jump in. Her partner, Maxim “Kapkan” Basuda had been holding the small site with his Entry Denial Devices and gave her a gruff, “About time you got here.” as she vaulted in.

No more time for quips however, she had to hot drop to the basement, clear it, and disable the security cameras for the other attacker who would infiltrate the top floor on the north side.

“Dropping in!”

She landed on the cold white tiles, or, at least that was what she expected.

She landed on a pile of skeletons, time to panic as she realised quickly that they were made of plastic. She could tell from the clacking sound of the bones, hollow and not only that, smooth to the touch.

The sound made from her abrupt fall as well as the hissing of the X-kairos quickly bought the attention of the festive terrorists. Dressed as frankenstein (the doctor) was one wearing a gas mask, who seemed to have the highest ranking. With one fell swoop of his hand and a shout of

“Surround her!”

The terrorists, each wearing what seemed to be the reverse bear traps from SAW, sprinted around the SAT operative. All seemed to be in the opposition’s favour, until an impact round was heard from above and they all looked up. Taking this chance, Hibana shot at the doctor, downing him and proceeding to lob a bullet in the others head. Her Type-89 quickly ran out of shots with its measly 21 bullet magazine. As she quick swapped to her Bearing-9, she turned the her final enemy behind, whipping it out and aiming for their chest-

Click

“...kuso”

The moment of painful regret of forgetting to reload her machine pistol was quickly forgotten, as Maxim jumped down and landed a knife on the target’s head. The terrorist stared with rage, but quickly started to panic, his screams were muffled as he pulled out the knife from his, now-missing, eye.

“No, no, nonononono-”

The whirring of a loaded spring was made more evident with each pull, the tick tock sound emanating from the hoodie wearing being getting louder, and like a jack in the box.

The skin on his face opened up, jaw slamming up and snapping grotesquely. The body fell to the floor and the shaking of the body had Maxim shooting it with the SASG-12 to put the poor boy out of his misery.

“What a cruel way to go. Is it not?”

The Doctor rose up behind them, despite wearing a blood soaked shirt and Hibana being very certain that she had hit them on the side of the neck, they seemed perfectly fine.

“That one was a failed experiment if a Russian got to him”

The intonation made Kapkan seeth,

“Do not insult us.”

The bullet from his PMM sidearm barely pierced the skin of the Doctor’s trachea, as they pulled it out of their skin. Their eyes contained mirth and a sense of wonderful curiosity when they turned and raised both their arms in the air,

“If you two are here, that must mean that the third party is upstairs yes? Oh I certainly hope it's Iana, I haven’t seen her in centuries!”

That struck a chord within Yumiko’s heart,

They knew.

“She has escaped from me so many times… the bird should have her wings clipped. No, perhaps I shall remove them entirely, rip them into shreds like I did with her last family. Maybe I’ll go after Iona after. Yes. That is what I shall do.” The Doctor clenched his fists in conviction , turning to look back at them.

“Worry not, my only target is her. Feel free to leave before I clip her wings and we die in a fiery explosion together.”

Maxim was very much done with the Doctor’s talk, but the bullets dealt no damage. Tactical retreat was a term to exist no?

“Hibana, call the operative, we will be leaving”

“But the mission-”

“Live to fight another day, no one lives nearby anyways”

The Doctor laughed.

“Live, live to tell the tale of how you escaped Kaelan. The Hunter of Angels and Doctor of the deranged.”

The duo from the basement left through the tunnel, but when they got out and tried to contact Nienke, the third operative of the mission.

Connection lost.

___________________________________________________________________________

The beeping of the phone was not a good sign, not with Iana still on the top floor of the building with no way to get down. Hibana was worried, Iana was stuck in there, with a psychopathic unkillable creature that was hunting her.

Now that she had time to think to herself, maybe she could sort this out in her head.

‘So, there is a being that is unkillable, hunts angels, puts people in freaking death traps and proclaims themself as a doctor. They’re hunting Iana, or what they know as Iana, as well as an “Iona”. So this means Iana is an angel? In a literal sense? We need to find this “Iona” and put whoever they are in our custody for their protection. What in the world did this turn out to be-”

Before she could complete her train of thought with the profanity, an explosion that sent the smell of smoke through the tunnel into her nostrils knocked her out of it. Kapkan stood beside her, holding up a blue phone that defenders had when detonating C4. The smile under his mask couldn’t be seen, his hands pushing the device back into his coat as he dusted himself off with the other.

The crackling of Hibana’s phone had her pausing in her silent scream at Kapkan, Iana’s slightly panicky voice could be heard through the speakers,

“What was that explosion? Where are you all, I can’t find you on the radar, are you both outside now?”

“Yes, there was someone inside telling us to leave, They’re going after you Iana, get out immediately. There might be explosives planted-”

“This is unfortunate but, I am surrounded with explosives and it appears they have all been armed to detonate in 3 minutes. I suppose this is where we say our goodbyes.”

That was the last thing Yumiko had expected Nienke to say, the word goodbye was not something that she wanted to say, not yet. She had so many questions that were yet to be answered, but only one was truly tickling at the back of her mind.

“Nienke, are you an angel?”

“Because I look like I fell from the heavens? You’ve used that before Yumi, and I don’t think now is the time for pick up lines.”

“I meant, legitimately.”

“I’ve told you yes every time you asked Yumi, you just never took it in a literal sense.”

A blast could be heard from the east wing of the building, the rustling of Iana’s shirt could be heard as she flew up the stairs.

“Sorry Yumi, I’m going to have to cut this one short.”

“Wait-”

The flatline beep of the hung up call sent dread into Yumiko’s heart. Maxim took notice of her heading back down the tunnel and rushed to pull her back.

“Are you crazy? This place is about to explode, calm down. She will hopefully find a way out by herself. You may be shocked but if that clouds your judgement what good are you.”

“Excuse me. I just found out my best friend and love of my life isn’t human and you’re criticizing me for being shocked?!”

“Well yes, I just specified that.”

Kapkan had to carry the thrashing SAT operator over his shoulder as he ran to their emergency transport vehicle, leaving Iana alone on the rooftop to fight.

____________________________________________________________________________

The rooftop was chilly, but Nienke never cared much for temperatures. The Doctor jumped up the hatch she opened for med-vac, a smile plastered in his eyes as he whipped out an engraved knife and pointed it at her.

“Angel Iana, I’m not going to kill you today. I’ll just take what I need and be on my merry way.”

“Oh gee thanks Kaelan, you’re not going to get it that easy.”

“Show me those wings, and I’ll show you my claws. A fair fight is all I ask for.”

Naivety.

A word that could be used to describe Iana at this moment. She kneeled to the ground as her body contorted, bone sprouting from her back as blood pooled around her shoulder blades, the liquid coating her feathers and turning them black.

She was so naive, she had thought she would be given a chance to turn, a chance for fair fight with the hunter.

She was wrong.

____________________________________________________________________________

The knife went in deep, crimson blood spilling over as Nienke fell to the ground, unable to move from the excruciating pain.

“You honestly thought I was going to fight fair. Ha, you never learn.”

The blood they collected with the knife was sucked into a test tube using a mechanism. Kaelan giggled in glee at the sight of it, squealing and jumping around on the roof.

“That was your blood, Angel. I still require your wings for my project.”

The knife shifted as they sliced back down her back, and she fought the pain in a burst of rage. Jumping onto them and ripping the vial out of their hands and kicking them to the side,

“I’ll never allow you to find a way back to heaven, Kaelan.”

The excited giggles from Kaelan ceased, they looked at her with rage and despair.

“I have lost so much because of you. I am stuck here because of YOU.”

Kaelan let out wings of their own, gray and torn apart, yet still able to fly for short distances.

“This is your fault.”

____________________________________________________________________________

The fight was anticlimactic, as there was little to no fight at all. Iana sidestepped when Kaelan threw a punch at her, jumping off the roof and letting her wings spread. She tried maintaining her focus as she aimed for the vehicle, but her eyes and wings were weakened from the bloodloss. Kaelan has chased after her, but as they went to celebrate an early victory, having dug a fire poker into her back, they were struck down with a kick as Iana flew up and dropped down on them.

“Goodbye.”

Nienke could fester no more energy as she glided towards the moving vehicle, barely able to land on top of it as the building exploded in the distance. Hibana and Kapkan had heard the drop, and as Maxim hit the brakes and Yumiko turned around. Nienke pulled out the fire poker through her chest, holding it up in a way one would admire a spear, wings dark yet contrasting the starry night.

“How’s that for a halloween night?”

The smirk fell alongside her body and the jaws of the other two operators as she collapsed onto the back of the truck.

#r6s #iana/hibana #Siege-o-ween 2020 #i dont know how to tag im sorry #chargfics #spooktober #8)#iana #hibana

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sincerelyreidburke · 4 years

Text

got hitched

Quick ficlet for my Bencole people. Featuring domestic Quindo. Cross-posted to the ao3 cricket ficlet collection.

eight years after graduation | august

Sebastián is completely unsuspecting, when the Snapchat comes in.

The house is quiet, and he and Quinn are in bed. He figures they’ll actually go to sleep soon, or at least soonish, but for now, they sit up against their pillows, with the light still on. It’s long past Violet’s bedtime; Quinn put her down at least an hour and a half ago, and after sitting out on the patio with him for a bit, Sebastián carried his husband to bed for little to no reason other than he just felt like carrying him.

He’s watching a Coyotes preseason weekly recap on his phone, and next to him, Quinn is knitting. His yarn is royal blue and bright red; he’s working on a scarf he keeps swearing he’s going to mail up to Remy to wear to games when his season starts. To celebrate his contract , Quinn said, when he told Sebastián what he’d be doing, all self-satisfied smiles. I think he could use something new in Montreal colors, don’t you?

His needles clack together every now and then, and the audio on Sebastián’s phone is low, but it’s not like Quinn would be bothered by that anyway, seeing as he took his hearing aids out for the night hours ago. Their house, Sebastián is happily aware, is a safe zone for Quinn, has been since the day they bought it to build their life in together.

A notification buzzes his phone, and the banner at the top tells him he has a Snapchat from Ben. Which isn’t weird, until it is— because what time is it in France right now? It has to be, like, kind of early in the morning, right? In what world is Ben up early on vacation?

He opens Snapchat to investigate. The Snap has been sent into a group chat, but not a new one; it’s one containing himself, Ben, and Quinn, and has to have existed since college even though it hasn’t been used in a short while.

He opens the Snap. It loads. As it loads, he wonders if this is a leftover message from Cole’s show last night. That was, after all, the whole reason Ben crossed the Atlantic Ocean for vacation in the first place. It’s Cole’s first tour outside the US, and Ben and Remy created this whole scheme for Ben to surprise him, which Remy was on board with because he will use literally any excuse to travel to Europe, especially France, and Sebastián has heard about this over several elaborate text exchanges, phone calls, Snapchats, et cetera—

The Snap loads.

Sebastián looks at it.

Wait. Wait . WHAT?

It expires before he can fully process, but he knows what he saw. He scrambles to replay it, leaning forward and off the pillow.

It’s a picture, a selfie, of Ben in bed with Cole wrapped up in his arm. They’re both, like, clothed and everything, and they look all soft and in love, but that’s not the main point of interest.

Because Ben is holding both of their hands up to the camera, and although Cole has had his black engagement ring for upwards of two years, Ben… is also wearing a ring. And Cole is holding a piece of paper. A certificate.

The caption Ben has typed reads: got hitched

Cole is holding a marriage certificate .

Sebastián screenshots the picture before it can disappear again, and then immediately starts tapping-slash-whacking Quinn in the thigh to get his attention. He’s gentle about it, but he still feels bad when Quinn startles and shoots daggers up at him. He drops his needles and signs. What’s wrong?

In lieu of signing a response, he turns the phone to Quinn, because it’s easier than attempting to convey via sign his current stream of consciousness (Ben got married is he kidding how did he just get married in the middle of Paris on a whim oh my God he is going to bust his ass so much but also he’s pissed because he wanted to go to his actual wedding and Ben Shaley Is Actually Fucking Married he can’t believe it like yeah he knew this was coming because he’s been engaged for two years but like— Rho got married !!!!!!!?!??!????!!?!).

Quinn studies the photo, then his eyes widen with realization. In a moment, he shifts from his complete bedtime serenity to animated, excited confusion. He looks up to Sebastián, then back to the phone, then up to him again, and signs, in quick and snappy motions, They eloped? , and then, immediately, Call Ben.

Sebastián nods, as Quinn lunges to the bedside table and grabs his hearing aids. He opens the phone app, and picks Ben out of his favorites, and as it rings, he just sits there vibrating. He can’t believe it. He actually can’t believe it. Ben just went and got married. Like— okay, that’s admittedly the most Ben way he could possibly think to get married, but— is this real life?

Ben picks up on the second ring, as Sebastián is putting the call on speaker. “Helloooooo!” His voice is singsong, like he knows exactly what he did. Which, like, obviously he knows what he did. But Sebastián is still shook —

“ Dude !” he cries, half-laughing, as Quinn leans back over to him and scoots closer on the mattress. “How could you just send that out of context?”

Ben laughs. “In my defense,” he remarks, his voice the picture of chill, “it really doesn’t require that much context, right?”

Quinn fiddles with his ears, and then he must get them turned on, because he chooses that exact moment to cry, “Benjamin Shaley.”

“Mini!” The joy in Ben's voice is indescribable. “I knew you’d bitch me out for this!”

“I cannot believe you,” Quinn says. “You did not elope last night.”

“Oh, but I did,” Ben remarks, every bit the wise-ass he’s always been, and he sounds so happy , and Sebastián is, like, so fucking happy for him right now—

“Rho— congratulations , holy shit,” he tells him. “Did you plan this?”

“No,” Ben laughs. “Not even a little. And I think that’s maybe the best part. Hold on.” There’s rustling and mumbling on his end for a second, and then a fourth voice enters the conversation.

“Good morning, guys.” Cole’s voice is super raspy, like he just woke up. Sebastián tries to do some quick math, but all he can determine about time zones is that it has to be early over there. “Sorry we didn’t tell you.”

“Cole, I can’t believe this,” Quinn says. “How could you let his chaos influence you?”

“Mm.” Cole pauses, contemplatively, and then yawns. “I’ll actually be letting his chaos influence me for the rest of my life, now.”

Quinn takes a deep, therapeutic breath. Sebastián wraps an arm around his shoulders. He has, many times, seen his husband get simultaneously pissed and excited; it’s a hilarious thing to witness. “I love you both,” Quinn says, in a slightly less sharp voice. “And I’m so very happy for you. But words cannot describe how much I wanted to actually attend your wedding.”

“We’re gonna have a party, Q,” Ben replies, like he was ready for this question. “When we get home. Well. Like. Not right when we get home. But we’re gonna start planning it when we get home.”

Quinn pauses, like he’s contemplating this, and in the silence, Cole adds, “It was a spur-of-the-moment decision.”

“Well, I’ll say,” Quinn says. Sebastián thumbs at his shoulder, to soothe the good-natured rage. “My goodness , you two. I should have known you’d get married some crazy way.”

“Tell us the story!” Sebastián adds, because he is extremely eager to know.

Cole lets out a soft laugh. “It’s not a long story,” he says.

“We were at dinner,” Ben explains. “Last night, after the show, with Remy. And Cole just… out of nowhere. He was like, we should get married.”

“ Cole Kolinsky ,” Quinn gasps. “Your mother is going to kill you.”

“She knows!” Cole cries. “She knows. I promise. She’s the only person who knew before you. Her and Remy.”

“Was Rem with you?” Sebastián asks.

“He was with us when we decided to do it,” Ben says. “But not at the town hall.”

“That little shit,” Sebastián cries. “Where is he now?”

“Out galavanting in the streets, I bet,” Ben mutters, and Cole laughs at him.

“I’m sure Remy is asleep,” Cole amends. “We were out so late last night.”

Quinn rubs his temple, leans into Sebastián’s embrace, and whispers, “I cannot believe you two.”

“Oh, you love us, Quinny,” Ben says. “Don’t even try to hide it.”

“Of course I do,�� Quinn replies, in that tone so characteristic of him , where he’s firm and kind at the exact same time. “My goodness,” he says. “You’re entirely too much for me.”

Cole laughs again. “I promise, Quinn,” he says, “it’ll be a really good party.”

“Oh, it best be.” The grin on Quinn’s face is so cute, Sebastián could combust. “I have very high standards.”

“Ah, yes,” Ben says, in a posh accent, “nothing but the best for the esteemed Quinny Cooper—”

“ Ben ,” Cole mumbles, and Ben laughs so loud.

“I’m so—” The initial shock has sort of worn off, but Sebastián still feels like he’s processing several things at once. “I’m so happy for you guys, jeez ! Why are you awake so early, anyway? It’s your honeymoon morning!”

“I have to—” Cole breaks his sentence with a yawn, like talking about being up early is making him more tired. “I have to be on my tour bus at eight-thirty.”

“Oh, Cole ,” Quinn whispers. “That’s a real wrench in your morning, huh?”

“Is what it is,” Cole replies.

“Wait, so… what time is it now?” As soon as he mentioned the fact that it’s their honeymoon morning, it started occurring to Sebastián that he and Quinn are… keeping them on the phone. On their first morning as a married couple. He loves his friends to death, but nobody interrupted him and Quinn the morning after they got married. It was just the two of them; even Vi was at Mama’s house for a sleepover. The only thing they had to do was bask in that fresh joy.

“It’s seven,” Ben announces. “Seven-oh-nine.”

“Okay, so,” he says, “I’m gonna, like, hang up the phone now.”

“ Nanny ,” Ben says, with a snort. “We knew you’d want to talk.”

“Yeah, but we talked,” he replies, “and now I’m hanging up so you guys don’t have to, like, talk to us until Cole leaves.”

“Hm.” Ben pauses, and then, in his peak wise-ass tone, remarks, “What if I hang up first?”

“Oh, goodness , you two,” Quinn mumbles, into Sebastián’s shoulder, “don’t get into one of these arguments.”

“Bro, you hang up first.”

“No, you hang up first—”

5,000 miles away, in a hotel bed in Paris, Ben Kolinsky hangs up the phone. He rolls over in bed and grins at his husband. “How did I do?”

Next to him under the nice white sheets, Cole is the best thing he has ever seen. He laughs, with his hand over his face, before he reaches for him. When they meet in the middle of the mattress, Cole presses a kiss to his lips. “You are an idiot,” he whispers.

“Mmm.” Ben kisses him again, and Cole wraps around him, and he thinks there’s absolutely no way heaven could be any better than this. “That’s a title I’ll proudly own, but only with an amendment.”

Cole tangles his fingers in Ben’s hair, long and now sort of messy from sleep, but who gives one single fuck what their hair looks like when they just got married to the love of their life last night. “What’s the amendment?” he asks, between kisses.

“That I’m your idiot.”

“ Oh .” Cole laughs. His eyes wrinkle shut, and Ben is going to be gone on him for the rest of his days. “You’re definitely my idiot.”

“Perfect,” Ben says, and kisses him again, and he doesn’t need anything else.

#ao3 link #ben/cole #quindo #nandoooooooo #mini quinny #rhode island headass #actually he's cole #ficlet #crickets #mel writes

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centeris2 · 4 years

Note

may i request a [grabbing wrist, pulling person behind them, sensing danger] and a “Stay still, youve been wounded.” With an Alex x reader please?

Prompt from Soft Sentence Starters prompt list. Listened to Move Like a Soldier by Kristina Maria. Will go up on AO3, links on my profile

Despite being at the pier, the smell of fuel covered the salty ocean air. Massive ships were coming in and out of this supposedly abandoned harbor, and you and Alex were tasked with investigating. From a safe spot behind boxes you two watched as an unmarked truck stopped and a couple GED employees got out. Two Dark Core employees left the warehouse and met them, a quick conversation happening out of hearing range, before they set to work unloading the covered cargo.

“GED and Dark Core? That’s not good,” Alex muttered and you nodded, humming a bit in agreement.

“We gotta see what they’re moving, and how much they have,” Alex decided, beginning to scan for a way in. You looked at the guards and employees around the truck and the chain link fence around the building. There were too many around the front gate for a distraction to work, the front door was not an option. But the fence didn’t extend into the water, and the attention was on the other side of the building. With a nudge and a point at the spot where the fence met the water Alex got your meaning.

Carefully you crept over to the edge of the pier and fence, holding onto the fence as you both swung around over the water and back onto solid ground. From there you went to a side door that wasn’t watched, the focus on the main entrance, and you headed inside. Thankfully the place was a mess of crates and equipment to move heavy loads, and you two were able to stealth through the hallways until you heard voices.

“...of drakonium-” the first voice droned on.

“That’s not right, GED is supposed to deliver darkonium!” the second voice cut off, alarmed and angry.

“My paperwork says Drakonium,” the first voice insisted, papers rustling.

“Well mine says Darkonium!” the second voice grew a bit louder, more papers being flipped through and presented.

“Maybe it’s a typo-” the first voice was cut off again by a third voice.

“Good grief, we do this every time! Hasn’t word gotten to everyone that Dark Core and GED named the same mineral different things?” the argument continued but Alex leaned over and got your attention.

“GED’s already mining? We gotta see how much they’ve got! C’mon!” Alex whispered, nodding down the hall. You waited, the conversation turned to one person adamant about getting spelling confirmation, and the whole group moved away. With a glance to double check where the cameras were you crept forward once more.

A hand grabbed your wrist, the force dragging you back and startling you as Alex pulled you back into cover behind her. You opened your mouth to ask what but she put a rough finger to your lips, her eyes elsewhere as a scientist walked by. Thankfully they were distracted by the phone conversation they were having about spelling, and didn’t notice as they walked right past you crouched on the ground. Alex kept her eyes on the threat, but you couldn’t help but look at Alex when she was this close to you. Usually she was laid back and loose, but when she was on missions like this she was tense and professional.

“Okay, go,” she breathed once it was clear, and it took you a moment to register what she said when she looked at you so intensely. But you two got closer to the room where they were storing the cargo.

A door opening behind you made you both jump, an employee sneaking out of a closet and spotting you immediately.

“Hey! You can’t-” they shouted before their head lulled forward and their arms hung loosely at their sides, stunned by Alex in a moment of panic.

“We gotta-” Alex tried to say but the alarms started blaring, the flash of lightning caught on camera and alerting security.

“Nevermind! Abort!” Alex grabbed your hand, though you needed no encouragement. You stopped for only a moment to grab the papers the stunned employee dropped before you ran. Security was in hot pursuit, you didn’t bother counting how many as you focused solely on following Alex out of there as fast as possible.

“Got you!” the gruff voice surprised you, a side tackle knocking you into the wall. There was a momentary struggle of kicks and shoves before the guard froze, going slack.

“Get back!” Alex warned, sending another strike down the hall while you detangled from the limp guard and scrambled to your feet, taking off once more. The lightning strikes bought you both enough time to get outside and Alex opened the main gate with a loud crack, and the pair of you didn’t stop running until you were swinging onto the trolley. Thankfully no other passengers were on board, abandoned piers were not a popular destination, and you were able to catch your breath.

“That could have gone better,” Alex joked, looking at you now the danger had passed. You nodded, still panting too hard to form words, and took a step forward. The buckling surprised you, and Alex caught you before you fell flat on your face.

“Stay still, you’ve been wounded,” Alex warned, maneuvering you into a seat and looking at your ankles. You were about to protest before you realized your foot hurt, quite a bit actually, and your ankle looked bigger than normal. Alex put a hand on the lump, causing you to yelp from pain and Alex to withdraw, hands up.

“Sorry! Right, that probably hurts, uh…” she looked at your ankle for a moment, calling your attention away from the pain when she bit her lip in thought.

“I honestly don’t know if you’re supposed to take off a shoe with an ankle injury or not… it might depend on the injury… does the shoe compress it or… are you okay? How do you feel?” Alex fretted, bouncing between trying to figure out what to do and checking in with you. Her worried expression made you smile and your stomach somersault. You really liked when she cared about you.

#star stable online #star stable #starstable #sso #starstableonline #fanfiction #my writing #my work #Alex #alex cloudmill #I definitely don't have practice with writing second person hah.#anon #ask

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marvinswriting · 4 years

Text

scary damian scary damian scary damian scary d-

prompt: the title speaks for itself lmaooo thank you bear for dealing with me sending you every other paragraph to make sure i got the energy of the fic right orignal g/t mg

I shoved my phone into my pocket, approaching the tiny pick up zone. I felt bad pulling Damian out of class but I'd feel worse if I passed the fuck out from exhaustion and got him worried.

Nothing telling my teacher I'm going to the nurse won't fix.

I walked through the tiny halls, the unfinished ceilings and led beams hanging down. The occasional light flicker really setting in the horror genre feel. I tried not to concentrate on the hallway decor too much, it hurt more than anything. The half-assed drywall with bulletin boards hung occasionally. There were tiny lockers that went largely unused and some vending machines that haven't been refilled since I was a freshman.

I yawn, approaching the tiny pick up zone.

As expected, the hallways are quiet. The occasional student walks past but nobody pays me mind. I liked it better that way anyway.

I slumped against the wall, letting my head fall forward. I was exhausted. Don't know why. I actually got sleep last night. Can too much sleep make you more tired? Oh well. Gonna get more.

More footsteps pass the tiny pick up zone, but these ones pause before backtracking. I look up to see Shane Omen.

Because who else?

I lower my head again, too tired to deal with this.

"Yo, space dyke." Shane doesn't seem to happy to not get a reaction out of me. "I'm talking to you."

"Sure you are." I feel like I should be running, but my brain is sluggish and I don't feel any fight or flight kicking in. When I would normally be up on my feet, creating as much distance between us as possible, I'm just trying not to fall asleep.

I have enough energy left in my brain to know being unconscious around a giant, especially Shane Omen, isn't the smartest idea.

"Space Dyke." There's a hand reaching for me.

That makes me flinch backward but- its too late at this point.

Is it bad to call this interaction familiar at this point?

Because it was.

I made a noise of surprise as Shane grabbed me off the platform roughly. My hands weren't pinned at my side this time, as I fruitlessly tried to push his fingers off of.

They wrapped around my entire body even pinning my legs together.

"Shane, please!"

"Are all tinies as rude as you? Never respond when they're being talked to?"

"Shane-"

I was not in the mood. My body felt as though it would shut down at any second and this interaction was frankly sending me into overdrive. My brain was panicking, trying to stay awake, trying to find the strength to fight back, trying to find energy where there was none.

"I always find it amusing. You tinies are so big and bad with giants. But when you're alone- look what happens." Shane's fist tightens.

"Where's you giant, huh? Isn't that something you freaks do? You try and twist our words positively? Embrace it? Hate to break it to you, it doesn't seem to be working. You're still a pathetic annoyance."

Shane's right. Where is Damian?

"I could drop you right now," Shane says, and my blood runs cold. "It'd be ruled as an accident. They don't check the cameras about these things. You're just a tiny. You freaks fall off ledges all the time. Your name would be in the school newspaper this month and then never spoken about again."

Shane's grip loosens and while it's normally a welcoming sign, I struggle to find purchase, grabbing at his fingers, not wanting to fall.

"Shane, please."

"Please what?"

“Please, get your hands off my tiny."

Both Shane and I turn to the new voice. I could cry in relief. There stood Damian walking down the halls. He looked pissed but I knew him long enough to see he was as scared as I felt.

Damian never said 'my tiny'. I called him my giant, sure, and he knew I was his tiny, but he always said despite it being embraced among tinies, he felt like he was taking ownership of a valuable life. Which was totally valid and I understood, but to hear him say it now put a smile on my face, despite the situation I was in.

The smile didn't last long as Shane's fingers once again tightened painfully around my body.

"And why should I?"

Damian was in front of us now. Shane wasn't short, but he wasn't tall. Damian was tall. He glared down at Shane.

Holy shit.

None of my giant friends were fighters. Yeah, Cady has verbally chewed out some people, Gretchen has paid jocks to beat up others, but none of our giants were physical. But right now? Damian looked fully ready to throw hands.

"Please hand me Janis." He held out his hand expectantly and for a second I thought Shane was just gonna comply. His grip loosens and his hand moved forward slightly before pausing. "No."

Shane said it with the authority of the girls on TikTok who bully people in the comments, saying no and throwing a heart emoji after.

"I'm sorry?" Damian's voice was low. Like the night Cady threw the part, but this time he wasn't trying to hide his anger or keep calm. "I heard what you said. About dropping her? Yeah, I think it's clear I'm not gonna let you do that. What you said counts as a threat by the way. If Janis wanted to report you, they'd check the cameras and you'd get into some serious trouble."

Shane seems metaphorically cornered for a second. Only a second.

God, I'm so fucking tired. I just want to be in Damian's pocket, where it's warm and safe and I can sleep, god damnit.

I can't tell if it's the total exhaustion or Shane's tight grip on me but my vision feels like its fogging up-

Oh my god, I can't breathe.

How fucking tired do you have to be to notice you're not breathing?!

I let out a very incoherent plea and both giants look down at me.

"You're hurting her."

"Am I?"

"Knock it off dude. Let her go that's not funny."

"Let her go you say?"

The fingers wrapped around me are suddenly gone as I let out a gasp of surprise and for air. Shane Omen fucking dropped me. Wow.

I didn't fall far before landing on another hand. I knew it was coming but that didn't make me any more prepared as I land with an ungracious thump.

I'm not held by Damian for long as he gently places me on the tiny pick up zone. As much as I love Damian, I'm grateful to be back on solid ground as I stumble backwards leaning against the wall.

"What the fuck is your problem, Shane." Damian isn't bothering to hide his anger at this point.

Shane takes a step back, his hands going up in defense. "Chill dude. It's just a tiny. I don't understand why you get so upset. You're like the only one who gives a shit about space d-"

Shane didn't get to finish his sentence as Damian suddenly swings his arm, fist connecting with jaw.

I jump back, out of surprise more than anything.

Holy fuck.

I suddenly felt a lot more awake and in tune with the situation going on in front of me.

Damian never got violent. He was always the teddy bear friend. But this teddy bear had one good right hook. Where did he fucking learn that?

My illusion of big scary Shane Omen is broken as Damian towers over him, Shane bending over, hand on jaw. If anything, it's Damian who looks scary right now.

That's something I never thought I'd say.

Damian shakes his fist out like he's trying to flick away the pain. "Don't ever talk about Janis like that again. If you or any of your friends use that nickname again, I'll-"

"We won't!" Shane is quick to reassure. "Swear on it, dude. Uh- Damian. We- we won't."

Damian doesn't seem convinced at this as he continues to glare at Shane. Shane turns to me and I instinctively flinch back. He raises his hand in defense.

"Sorry- Janis."

I don't think I've ever heard Shane call me Janis before? It's always been space dyke. Woah.

"I'm," Shane points behind him, skittishly. "I'm gonna go now, so-" He doesn't finish his sentence, just turns and speed walks down the halls.

The second he's out of slight, the pressed lips and stiff posture fade and Damian looks a lot more- well, Damian.

"Are you okay?" His voice is back to a hushed concern. I jump regardless.

"I'm fine. Now." I say slowly. My brain feels like it's rebooting from what I've witnessed. It needs time to let the files load.

Damian punched somebody.

Damian punched Shane Omen.

Shane Omen was scared of Damian.

Damian Hubbard the dude who wouldn't hurt a fly if he was paid to, punched Shane. Omen.

And it was equally a mix of badass and scary.

I never thought I would call Damian scary. He hates being viewed as scary. And for the most part, he's not. But that? That was scary even if it wasn't directed to me.

"Janis?"

My head snaps up. Damian looks nothing like he did thirty seconds ago. Now he stood timidly, like he was afraid to move and set me off. "I know you don't like yelling. I'm sorry."

I nod. "Thank you for coming when you did."

I pushed down all uneasiness I had. It frankly made me feel guilty. It was just Damian. He wouldn't hurt me. I didn't think he'd hurt Shane Omen either but-

No.

It's Damian.

"You really had Shane ready to piss his pants," I say lightheartedly. "It was tits, dude."

Damian chuckled nervously. "I just saw him holding you and I got so nervous and I-"

"Hey hey hey-" I rush to the edge of the platform. "I'm here right now. I'm okay."

Yeah, it was pretty scary watching Damian tower over his peers aggressively. But it was also badass. And if Cady did the same I'd be gay. But the Damian I'm seeing right now? That's my best friend who would never hurt me. That's my platonic soulmate who goes out of his way to keep me safe.

Which he was doing earlier, just in a new way.

Damian scoops me up, holding me to his chest. I can feel his heartbeat slightly faster than normal.

He was as worried as I was.

Just being held by Damian and the familiarity of being safe was all I needed for the exhaustion to set in again.

"I'm gonna fall asleep." I mumble.

Damian laughs. "That is why you called me to pick you up, right?"

"Yeah," I say sleepily.

Damian shifts me into the familiar chest pocket and there's some rustling as I assume he puts on the whit pin before we're off.

There's a couple of things we should talk about. Like him punching Shane Omen for starts. Or Damian calling me his tiny for the first time. But right now it's nap time.

Back to Damian's English where I can fall asleep without worry of Shane. Not that I think I'll be worrying about Shane for a while.

bear told me i write shane omen well and i guess that just means i make a good fucking villain lmao- also was damian at least a little in character? i tried. @realmisspolarbear @musicallygt @smallsoysauce

#g/t mean girls #tiny janis #giant shane #giant damian #GIANT S C A R Y PROTECTIVE DAMIAN #HELL YEAH

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