#I’ve kind of only just gotten back to not speaking or typing in very brief bullet point-ish sentences

[torchickentacos]

#last vent post of today. #this picture is funny so rbs are okay but don’t screenshot tags or anything pls! #frustrated. I went semiverbal for the first time in actual years. #hence no discord or much tumblr activity past like 3?? pm #idk if it really counts as semiverbal bc i can still TALK it’s just much harder and I have to put actual physical effort into it #I’ve kind of only just gotten back to not speaking or typing in very brief bullet point-ish sentences #I’m safe and fine. just exhausted and always on high alert. #might be living with my grandmother for a bit. we’ll see if mom follows through on it.

[immersed-in-mischief]

Prince Charming (Loki x Female Reader)- Part 2

I was too excited to wait any longer before posting part 2! This part is pretty long but it didn’t feel right to split it anywhere. Over 3k words! 

Summary: Things with Chaos begin to develop pretty quickly now that Loki his preoccupied with is new girl.

Warnings: none, just fluff 

 "Nice of you to join us, Sleeping Beauty!”

10 minutes late. Chaos had certainly accepted the challenge, alright. The sun was already peeking through the building outside your window when the two of you called it a night. Could it still be calling it a night when it wasn’t night anymore though? You had lost track of time in the shower replaying the conversation over again. The lack of hot water quickly brought you back to reality and you grabbed the closest outfit you could reach and threw your hair up in a bun as you raced to the conference room. You noticed Loki giving you a confused stare from across the table. He pretended to pay attention while typing a message out to you from his tablet.

L.Laufeyson: You’re staring off into space and grinning like a mad man. Stop it. It makes you look creepy.

You rolled your eyes and stuck your tongue out at him when Rogers turned his back to face the screen.

Who are you calling creepy? I know you only pay attention to the parts about hostile takedowns. Maybe I just really enjoy 7am mission briefings. You don’t know me as well as you think you do Mischief!

When Tony shared a look between you and Loki from his end of the table, you both put the tablets down and made a better attempt to pay attention. You tried to quietly hide your yawn. Maybe you could sneak in a nap later since you hadn’t actually gotten a wink of sleep.

Over the next few weeks, you not only talked to Chaos every night you weren’t away for a mission, the two of you had begun to exchange a few messages throughout the day as well when you both weren’t busy with work. Since you weren’t really hanging out with Loki much anymore, it was a welcomed distraction. You had come across him on his phone on several occasions with his book carelessly discarded somewhere nearby. He always seemed to get frustrated with you when you interrupted his reading so this girl must really be special to him. One afternoon, you swore you heard him sigh after putting his phone away. It felt like a punch to the gut. If he even noticed that you hadn’t had one of your movie nights or dinners together in nearly a month, it didn’t seem to bother him. It just gave you more excuses to return the flirtatious advances from Chaos. You couldn’t say that you were really fighting it all that hard though. It may have started out as a distraction, but it felt really good to feel wanted by someone again. Being head over heels for your best friend, coworker, and pretty much roommate makes dating kind of difficult.

With Rogers away on a mission, you cut training a few minutes short to hurry back to your room. A huge grin slowly spread to see the light in the corner of your tablet flashing. Even though it was hard, you resisted the huge to check the message and made yourself shower and change first. Once you were changed into your pajamas for the night, you curled up on the corner of the sofa in your room and slid the screen on.

Dove, I know you won’t see this until late this evening, but I didn’t want to wait another second to tell you that I truly missed our talks the last several nights while I was away. I’m anxiously counting down the minutes until you arrive home from work. You’ve quickly become my favorite part of my day

This guy knew exactly what to say to make you swoon. Part of you was glad he couldn’t see how often he made you blush. You noticed the message was sent just before you returned to your room and Chaos was still logged in.

What if you didn’t have to wait until late this evening?

The fact that he was immediately responding made you smile. Although it was foolish to believe the guy would be staring at the computer waiting for you, it still gave you butterflies when he was so eager to talk to you.

I’d say that’s the best news I’ve heard all day. Not that I’m not excited to see you online, but don’t you still have a few hours of work left, darling?

Grabbing a blanket off the back of the couch, you snuggled up on the couch with the charger for your tablet placed within reach.

Boss is out of town, so I cut out early today. Curling up at home to watch the rain while talking to my favorite person sounded better anyways 😉

Your secret is safe with me. Rainy afternoons curled up with a good book is on my list of favorite things, though speaking with you might have recently taken a higher position on said list. Would it be too forward of me to say that I would rather spend a rainy afternoon like this by your side instead of speaking through an electronic device?

There it goes again. You feel the heat on your cheeks as you bite your lip to control the grin on your face.

Were you really on a business trip or were you just spending time thinking of things to say to make me blush? Not that I’m complaining really. To answer your question, no it wouldn’t be too forward. I was thinking the same just now actually…

You always know how to make me laugh. Unfortunately, I’m not that smooth. I truly was away for business. I can’t help but wonder now how often I cause a blush to form on your cheeks. Maybe that will be my new mission, though it would not be a fruitful endeavor without seeing it in person. I’m sure it’s adorable

Not that smooth? I beg to differ! The number of times you make me absolutely swoon tells a different story. In order to keep my dignity, I won’t disclose what that number actually is at the moment. Let’s just say you must read classical literature and Shakespeare on a regular basis because it shows. Enough of my blushing and swooning! So, Chaos, if we were to be face to face on a rainy afternoon like this, how would we spend it? Not that I am assessing your dating skills or anything… or am I?

The fact that I make you blush and swoon often is quite flattering actually. I was raised somewhat old-fashioned I guess you could say. I was taught that a woman should be treated as a princess and that anything less is disrespectful. I guess you could thank my mother for that. If I’m being completely transparent, you tend to cause me to “blush and swoon” quite often as well, Dove. The feelings you stir within me make it nearly impossible to not let a smile grace my lips at the very thought of you…

Now that I’m sure I have a blush once again residing on your cheeks, I believe you inquired about my dating skills in a not-so-subtle way… Given the honor to have you accompany me on a date on a rainy afternoon such as this, I would say that a visit to a secondhand bookstore would be in order. I of course have a few around the city I like to frequent already. I would enjoy the opportunity to discover what books captured your attention and compare our favorites. Once we had found a few treasures and picked out at least one for the other to enjoy, we would find a place to sit and converse, just like we do here already. A quiet corner of a coffee shop would be a preferred place of mine. It would give us the chance to people watch as well. We could even make up stories about their lives and what we thought their day had entailed. If you didn’t feel it to be too intimate for such a date, I wouldn’t be opposed to finding a quiet place to curl up together to watch the rain and sit and read together.

I admit that I’m now quite curious, Darling. How does my answer fair in your assessment that you may or may not be performing on my ability to court?

You reread his answer a few times before you remembered that you now needed to write back. How could you be so flustered over….words? Now seemed like a good time to run to the kitchen for a snack. Something told you that you had already decided exactly how you wished to spend your evening.

As you made yourself a hot tea and let yourself imagine what a date like that with him would be like, you looked up to see Nat and Wanda standing there staring at you.

“I’m sorry. What did you say?”

They shared a look before turning back to you.

“Nat, I think our girl just literally floated into the room. She also hasn’t stopped smiling for days now. Could it possibly have anything to do with this mystery guy that you keep dashing away to talk to on your tablet possibly?”

Wanda and Nat laughed as they stood and waited for their answer. Nat was even more forward.

“It’s no secret. You charge that tablet nearly three times a day now. When are you just going to meet him already? You obviously are already completely smitten with each other. It’s written all over your face and if he is making you look like this all of the time, he must be pretty dreamy.”

You willed the kettle to heat up faster to escape this conversation.

“I don’t know. Maybe we will meet up at some point, but things are pretty great right now. What if we meet in person and there is no chemistry?”

Nat came and put a hand on either cheek, holding your head in her hands.

“Sweetie, if this guy was enough to help you forget that you are madly in love with your best friend, then there is zero chance that you two lack chemistry.”

They both laughed at the shocked look on your face. Wanda patted you on the shoulder and whispered as she walked by.

“Yeah, we know about that too. You don’t hide the way you stare at him very well. The only person who can’t see your feelings is Loki.”

Squeezing the bridge of your nose out of frustration, you whispered under your breath.

“Are there no secrets in this building?!”

Wanda seemed to get an idea and turned back around before leaving the kitchen.

“The costume party! That’s how you can meet him in person! Invite him to Tony’s costume party next week. If you don’t feel it in person, you will be in disguise anyways since it’s a masquerade ball! It’s perfect! Your own little fairy tale!”

Just as Nat got excited as well, you put a stop to it.

“Absolutely not! That is so cliché even for you two! Plus, I’m not meeting him for the first time in the lion’s den. That’s just cruel. Get over it. I am not inviting him to Tony’s party, end of discussion.”

“Inviting who?”

Your head whipped around to see Loki standing at the edge of the kitchen. His wet hair formed soft curls against his shoulders and left damp spots on the tight t-shirt that hugged him in all the right places. The sweatpants that hug low on his hips didn’t help stop your breath from quickening. You felt frozen under his gaze.

“Who are you not inviting, Bug?”

Before you could answer, Nat spoke up.

“Her new Boy Toy…”

You shot a warning glare to her before turning back to Loki in time to catch the smirk form on his lips.

“Boy Toy? Is that who has been stealing you away from me? Well then, sit by me tonight for movie night and you can tell me why exactly he is not being invited to Tony’s party.”

“I uh… I can’t tonight.”

He crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at you.

“Come on Ladybug. I haven’t seen you in days and we both know we haven’t had a movie night in ages. Don’t you love me anymore?”

You unsuccessfully hid the squeak that escaped at his question. The pout he gave you told you that he was joking and not actually acknowledging the fact that you had been head over heels for him for way longer than should be allowed. Just as you tried to come up with anything at all to say, Wanda covered for you.

“She has a date with the Boy Toy.”

He seemed to accept that answer.

“Fine. But I expect you to attend the next one, Bug. Better not keep the Boy Toy waiting now.”

As he turned to head into the living room, the kettle started to whistle, and you let out a sigh of relief. When you finished making your tea and grabbing enough snacks to not have to leave your room anymore tonight, you turned to face them one more time.

“You two better help me find a damn good costume… I can’t believe I’m going to do this.”

They giggled and high fived as you shook your head. On the way back to your room, your mind drifted back to Loki. It was time to move on. At the mention of you dating someone, there was zero trace of jealously or emotion in his face. He didn’t see you like that and he never would. You had a guy that showed genuine interest in you and freely let you know as well. There was no wondering if Chaos wanted something more with you than a casual chat online. Meeting a stranger in person couldn’t be any safer than in a high security tower surrounded by the Avengers.

You took a sip of your tea and smiled at the flashing light on the tablet on the couch beside you.

I hope your silence isn’t an indication of a poor assessment…

Sorry! No not at all! I just stepped away for a minute to get something to eat. Although it is fun to make you sweat it out a little…

To say I’m relieved is an understatement, Dove. I thought maybe I had made you uncomfortable earlier.

Quite the opposite actually. It sounds like the perfect date to be honest. I’m quite the cuddler when given the chance. In fact, I’m curled up with a blanket and a hot tea as we speak…

Then I shall be jealous of said blanket and mug since they get to cuddle with you instead of me… Since we appear to both have the same thoughts as to what constitutes the perfect date, does that mean you find my skills adequate?

I suppose… 😊

So, Chaos, if you’ve already put thought into the two of us on a date, does that mean that you might want more than just exchanging messages online?... now I’m the one worried about being too forward!

 As the bubbles appeared and you waited for a response, you started to regret being so blunt with your questioning.

Darling, I’ve wanted that longer than I care to admit, so no you are not being too forward. I’ve thought about breaching the subject of meeting you in person for some time but could never gather the courage to do so. I’ve honestly never had a connection with someone truly as strong as I feel with you. Is a face-to-face meeting something you might want as well?

Absolutely. I’ve been nervous to bring it up too. I didn’t want to assume that the connection was mutual and end up embarrassing myself. I’ve made the mistake in the past of letting my heart get involved to find out too late that those feelings were not returned. It’s not something I wish to go through more than once.

Dove, I can assure you that is not the case with me. I assure you that any feelings you may have developed are returned tenfold. I have never seen your face or heard your voice, yet you have my heart… Does this mean I will soon get the opportunity to see the effects of this blushing and swooning you speak of with my own eyes?

That is really good to hear and I guess I need to start hiding such effects now… So … there is a reason for my line of questioning actually…

Oh? It that so? Please continue…

I’ve actually been given an invitation to a party at Stark Tower next weekend being hosted by the Avengers. Since we did meet in an Avengers chat room, it seems kind of poetic that we meet up at an event hosted by them.

It really is poetic isn’t it? I’m aware of the event you speak of though I hadn’t planned on attending. I would be willing to reconsider however if I knew that you were in attendance as well. Is it a masquerade ball in fact, is it not?

Yes, everyone attending is expected to be in costume. If I was not only in attendance, but there as your date, would it be enough to help you reconsider?...

More than enough, My Love.

Well, it’s a date then 😊

It would be my honor, Dove. There is still one matter to discuss. If we are both in costume, how exactly will I know when I’ve found you?

Would it be too cliché to attend as Cinderella and Prince Charming? It is a ball after all.

Not at all. In fact, I find it to be quite a romantic gesture to meet my princess for the first time dressed as her Prince Charming. You deserve to have your fairy tale moment, Darling.

So, it’s settled then. Next Saturday. Do you need me to get you put on the guest list?

That won’t be necessary. You aren’t the only one with connections, Love.

#loki fluff #loki smut #loki angst #loki fanfic #loki fandom #loki laufeyson #tom hiddleston smut #tom hiddleston angst #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fanfiction #marvel

[stellocchia]

This is part 2 of the comprehensive analysis of c!Tommy and c!Dream’s relationship during the Exile Arc

Part 1

So, initially I was thinking of making only one post with only the important quotes from this streams but... yeah, not saying what I think about stuff is not in my blood. So now I’m stuck with this and I’m determined to finish it!

Once again, it’s all about the characters from here on out and I will be mentioning serious themes of abuse and gaslighting, so keep that in mind.

We’re starting this one off with the second proper exile stream: Tommy Is Getting So Much Worse in Exile...

Mushroom Henry is introduced at the beginning of this vod. Initially Tommy doesn’t like him, believing him to be a poor replacement of the real Henry. He then goes towards Tnret and finds it compromised as Lazarbeam had planted some tnt under it the day before during a visit with Vikstar and Technoblade (now, how much of that visit was canon? No one knows! But the tnt part definitely was). Also to be noted that Tommy already stopped fighting back against mobs, which is already rather worrying. 

Anyway, this is the stream where Tommy makes an enderchest with Fundy and Ranboo, so I will only write down some of the most notable quotes, and keep it rather brief. It is to be noted that Tommy’s depression at this point had already gotten worse as in the Nether time and time again he avoids doing the haybell mlg instead taking the full fall damage, he defends himself less and he’s already expressing feelings of loneliness. Also, he is now on the first stage of the exile skin set.

“Because if we can’t stay motivated then- then we won’t have anything to do (...) we’re gonna work out how to Keep Doing Things and not... sit around crying” (he has the need to keep busy to stave off loneliness)

“Now everyone, if you should know, we’re gonna go bach and reclaim everything at some point and kill Dream” (talking to chat)

“Music! It’s like a person but they’re not here!” (about Chirp)

“This is like, you know when you fall over? Or you know- or you know when one of your pets die? At school? And then all of a sudden you’re at school and you’re upset and all the people who are usually assholes to you start being nice all of a sudden. This is that!” 

This was quite interesting, so I want to talk about it briefly: but this is Tommy’s general mentality. He sees anyone trying to help him or giving him things as just pity from people who don’t actually care nor necessarily even like him. Basically, he feels betrayed and alone and doesn’t actually think that any of this people could possibly care. This however doesn’t seem like a mentality that’s born from exile (since he’s had it since the very beginning of exile) and we don’t actually know where it generated from. Though it could possibly be from the fact that he always had to be very independent since he had to fight in quite a few wars and even take the leading position in the Pogtopia times.

Other note: this is when Ranboo starts leaving letters for Tommy (You can find Tommy and Ranboo's mail exchanges here). At the beginning the chest they used to exchange them was situated on the Nether side of the original portal, which was a ruined portal a bit further away from Tommy’s camp. Also Tommy dies in lava (not canonically) a ton of times in this one and Fundy every times gives him some of his stuff to pretend like nothing got burned (which was kinda adorable).

“Fundy why didn’t you come with me when I got exiled? I was meaning to ask you. ‘Cause no-one came with me” “No-one came with you because it was- *sigh* Tommy I don’t know! It was- it was a shock to all of us” “You could have came with- yeah, but you just let me go. You just let go on me Fundy” “And- and just leave L’Manburg to Tubbo himself? Like all alone?” “No he would have had like literally everyone else on this server” “Like who?” (I just found this exchange interesting)

“I don’t think you’ll like it but Dream is uh, kind of proud of Tubbo. He- he’s actually acknowledging L’Manburg as a new country now” (and this is what the other side of the manipulation looked like from the outside)

“Wait wait! I could talk to the narrator! Then I’d finally have a friend!” (proceeds to start talking to the narrator)

“No no no. No no no Ranboo. Stop- stop complaining. Stop being weird Ranboo. You should be honoured to have a friend that’s close enough that he shoots you” “I don’t think that’s a ‘friend’, I think that’s just an assassin” (Ranboo with the common sense)

“This is where I used to live and then Dream tore it down” “Why did Dream tear it down?” “*sigh* I don’t know”

"Look guys: this is the song of a female astronaut named Clara” (about Chirp)

The vod ends with Tommy and Ghostbur’s attempt at saving Lazarbeam from lava and Ghostbur gifting Tommy the “Your Tubbo” compass.

Moving on: Tommy Is So Lonely in Exile with Dream

This is actually the first stream where Tommy starts off drowning (and he actually dies, yet again, non canonically). Also Puffy gifts him some blue wool, 3 diamonds and his own Christmas tree, specifying that it’s not out of pity so he actually accepts the present. 

“We’ve got some things to do. I’m still feeling um... I’m not feeling I AM very very very alone. Just- just so- just lonely all of the time... which isn’t, you know? Isn’t okay. I don’t know why I was at the bottom of the ocean just holding a bone”

Now, a bit to unpack here. In real time by now it had been 3-4 days technically, but in rp it has been specified already multiple times that it had been quite a few days since Tommy got exiled and we don’t really have any reason to believe that he received any more visits then what we’ve seen. Which probably increased his loneliness. Also we don’t have an actual explaination for him waking up drowning, my best guess for it is a mix of him being suicidal and general depression making it hard to get any proper rest (which we know was the case for him since he did mention at one point that he “didn’t sleep anymore”) which could have caused him to start sleepwalking since both “not getting enough sleep” and “stress and anxiety” are listed as causes of it. Now the actual subconcious reason as to why he was going in the sea and letting himself drown is unknown but, again, he was suicidal while in exile.

Also “How to Sex 2″ got burned by Ghostbur, not volountarily of course, he just had it on him when he died in lava. 

“I’m too lonely to be angry now, alright? We got to appreciate all the friends that we can get” (about Lazarbeam bringing him a present)

“The compass is nice though! We’ve got a compass that always will point to Tubbo... not that- not that he’d care” (beginning of the doubts about his old friends)

“Tubbo has one too? [referring to the compass] Oh he’ll just- if he’s got one he’s just using it for show... he’s- I’ve accepted that he’s the president now and I’m just- I’m just that guy he had to exile to show how powerful he was” (again, doubts)

Also Tommy makes his first path to Logstedshire in this stream. He also takes a liking to Mushroom Henry here after figuring out he could produce mushroom soup, meaning he actually had a sustainable source of food instead of having to relay mostly on handouts. 

“Guys we need some more coal” *Dream joins the game* “...ooooooh no please don’t come and visit me. Please please please” (I’m leaving this here, I believe this reaction speaks for itself)

“Hey! I’m- I’m above right now by the pretty Christmas tree that there is here” “Why are you here?” “I’m visiting you!” “Last time you said that you ruined me” “I- How did I ruin you?” “*sigh* Hi Dream!” “Hello~” “What have you- what” “Where are you at?” “I’m just com- why are you here? Every time you’ve been here you’ve done something destructive” “I- I what- I haven’t done anything destructive... everything’s been fine! I haven’t destroyed anything”

At the time there were a lot of people who were hesitant at calling Dream’s manipulation “gaslighting”, as that is a precise type of manipulation, but this right here? This is an example of gaslighting. Dream destroyed everything Tommy had every time he visited him and they both know this, still what Dream is trying to do here is convince Tommy that that never happened to keep up his friendly facade. Just because he isn’t saying directly “you can’t trust what you remember” doesn’t mean that that’s not exactly what he is implying. To reiterate this point they meet up right after and Dream, once again, blows up Tommy’s armour and diamond sword: 

“Hello~ take your armour off” “Why should I take my armour off?” “Um, drop it down here” “No, no! I worked really hard to get this. No!” “Okay... you can get it again!” “No! See this is what I told you about, that you’re destructive to me” “Tommy I’m not destructive... but, listen, you gotta drop it” (...) “No, no! I’m a rebellious teenager. I don’t listen to green punks” *Dream hits Tommy with an axe* “*screams* Okay okay okay okay okay”

Again, Dream hitting Tommy in this case is portrayed as physical abuse. And then Dream goes back to acting as if nothing ever happened, going on to talk about his day, telling Tommy that he knows about the 2 compasses and telling him that Tubbo went over while Tommy wasn’t there and that he is free to visit Tommy, he just hasn’t done it yet (all of this are actually true, but the implication that Tubbo didn’t want to see Tommy obviously isn’t). 

“Dream, I think I’ve realized why no-one’s came to see me” “Why’s that?” “It’s because- it’s because there is not an easy way to get to me and I’m gonna make an easy way to get to me today” “I mean, if you boat here, it took me 2 minutes” “No no-one wants to use the boat, it’s too far- it’s too far for people” “Oh you know what Tommy? I’ll do you a favour”

This is when Dream moves Tommy’s portal. Now, one thing that I want to point out is that Dream had already intercepted Ranboo’s and Tommy’s first mail book (we know this because in Ranboo’s message at the beginning of this stream he said that the first one disappeared) so he probably knew that Ranboo was using the secrecy of the further away portal to communicate with Tommy undetected. Of course Dream can’t have that, though he probably didn’t account for Ranboo not giving up that easily.

“Well it’s very awkward considering you exiled me and- and have banished me from being around all of my friends and now are trying to side with me it’s kinda-” “Tommy what’d you mean from all your friends? I’m your friend!” “Yeah... yeah you are” “I am your friend Tommy~” “Yeah I- Yeeeeeah, Dream” (just to clarify: Tommy is not agreeing with Dream here, he is being sarcastic. Also Dream starts harping a bit more on this point from here on out)

“Oh I just witnessed another suicide...” (second time this happens, the first was in the last vod, and he stays staring at the lava for a moment)

Tommy once again trying to push Dream into lava (again similarly to how he did in the first proper exile stream) and Dream just goes along with it (mostly just to flex about how that can’t actually kill him). I consider this couple of times as the first times Tommy started lashing out in exile. 

“Health and safety is important Dream! *staring at lava* Is it though?” “Yes, yes it’s important Tommy. It’s not your time to die”

“And then you’re coming over here giving me shit and also burning my shit. You’re just- you’re just a monster” “I didn’t burn any of your shit” “You blew it up! You exploded it! Man you’re ruining my life...” “I blew it up, I didn’t burn it though” (because that makes all the difference of course...)

“Hey man I could jump and you’d be able to do nothing about it and I’d- I’d be done-zo” “I- I ask you please not to” “Okay” “I need you alive and well”

Now I found this interesting when first watching as well, but Dream really did spell it out for us that he actually needed Tommy, huh? Like, in retrospect, what Dream then intended to do in the Season 2 Finale seemed kind of obvious. Also after that They have a discussion about the enderchest, but Tommy gets to keep it. Also Ranboo appears at the portal, though Dream doesn’t manage to see who it is and Ranboo manages to escape before he sees (thanks in part to Tommy distracting Dream). Now I want to point out that, even if outwardly people had the permission to visit Tommy, the fact that everyone was so scared about Dream finding out about it talks volume about how clear that was. Also this is when Dream gives Tommy the general direction of Technoblade’s cabin.

“Look at us go... hey why don’t you just un-exile me, you know? You know?” “*laughs* Well I think that I- I- I think that maybe there is a possibility at least in the- in the future that you could- you could- you know? Get a visitor’s pass...” (notice that he only confirmed a possibility for a visitor’s pass, not for actually going back, Dream literally never meant for Tommy to go back permanently)

Lazarbeam arrives to visit Tommy at this point to gift him Far and a fire resistence potion.

“See I told you! It was because I didn’t have a bridge that nobody was coming to visit me Dream! It wasn’t because it was me” “Yeah it must be...”

“Hey Dream come and listen to this man! [talking about Far]” “I-I’m-” “Hey, promise you won’t- If I get a new disc you wouldn’t mind would you?” “No I wouldn’t” “Okay, come and listen. I trust you now, now we’ve bonded” (Is this the second time Tommy invites Dream to listen to a disc with him?)

At this point Dream pressures Lazarbeam to mug Tommy with him and the whole scene is just pretty weird, but it boils down to Dream blowing Tommy’s armour up (again), while also hitting him a bit more when he doesn’t immediately comply (basically making this humiliating and making Tommy understand that he is not any safer with someone else there). Though Tommy does end up lashing out and killing Lazarbeam (not canonically) and Dream destroys his enderchest in retaliation. After that Tommy does become more submissive, not wanting to get killed. Now I want to point out that that same day Dream had agreed that Tommy could keep his enderchest without any conditions to it, but, of course, Dream’s rules are constantly changing. Dream does leave after that for a bit.

“I put your enderchest back by the way Tommy” “Really?” “Yeah. I just wanted to prevent you from putting his armour in there so... that’s why I broke it” “Thank you! Thank you” “You’re welcome” 

Wanna know why this is bullshit? Tommy didn’t even try to go towards the enderchest when he had Lazarbeam’s armour and immediately gave it up at Dream’s request. This is just Dream giving Tommy a “reward” for being compliant after punishing him. Also pointing out the fact that Tommy felt compelled to thank Dream even if Dream was the one who caused the issue he just fixed in the first place. Also Connor arrives as well.

“Yeah you can’t move into my home Connor” “Well I mean, of course he can because it’s not your home because you’re not going back” “What do you mean I’m not going back?” “Well as I said maybe potentially you could get a visitors pass” (reiterating a point from the start)

“Tubbo- Tubbo said that! Tubbo said it [the server] looked so much better since Tommy left. And I was like ‘wait what?’ and he’s like: ‘yeah it could be a coincidence though but I don’t think so'” (you manipulative green bastard)

“I don’t know if you know this but I’ve been constructing a- a uh- a prison and it is ginormous so...” (I did not remember Dream mentioning the prison this early on)

Anyway, the stream ends with Dream stripping for primes and since I need it, I decided that that’s canon.

#dreamwastaken #tommyinnit #fundy #ranboo #dream smp #relationship analysis #character analysis #exile arc #tw manipulation #tw abuse #tw suicide #long post #my post #there was a point when tommy threatened to become a cannibal if dream didn't leave him alone #and dream said 'that's fine by me quackity ate schlatt's heart anyway #what the hell am I watching? #why am I doing this?

[marvelmusing]

Making Time

Mobius M Mobius x Reader

Part 2

My Masterlist

“1985, huh?” You say, looking up from the briefing Mobius has just handed you.

“Yeah, maybe we’ll spot a delorian?” He jokes, making a Back to the Future reference. You smile at him, remembering when you’d first mentioned the movie. You hadn’t been at the TVA long, to your knowledge.

You’re sat in one of the cafes, explaining something about the timeline to Casey, and you make an offhand reference to the movie. To which, Casey looks even more confused. You glance at Mobius, who’s been sat next to you, watching your teaching with a smile. You offer them both a small smile, at yet another reminder that you’re from somewhere very different from the rest of them.

“Neither of you have seen it have you?” Mobius shakes his head.

“Not a lot of chances for watching movies when dealing with the timeline. Should we get the chance, I’d love to.” It’s a few days later when you give him the chance.

“Honey, I’m home.” You hear Mobius call out, which brings a smile to your face. Whilst you had your own apartment, you much preferred staying with Mobius, like you did when you first arrived at the TVA. You hear him set down a pile of papers in the kitchen, before making his way into the lounge where you’re sat waiting for him. “Hey.”

“Hi.”

“What’s all this?”

“Back to the Future. I went through my file, and managed to find a version that I watched that was uninterrupted. Then I isolated it, and copied it onto one of those cassette reel things, so that it’ll play on your mini projector.” You pause, before adding, “I probably put too much effort into this but, I thought we could have what my time considers a movie night?”

“A movie night?” Your face falls slightly, feeling embarrassed by your suggestion.

“We don’t have to-“ you start. He shrugs off his jacket and settles down next to you.

“Did I not tell you I wanted to watch it, should I get the chance?”

“Well, yeah.” He gestures to the projector.

“Let’s get this show on a roll.” You grin at him, before quickly pressing play on the projector. Mobius leans an arm on the couch and pulls you to his side. “You finally have clearance to access to your file, and you use it to watch Back to the Future?”

“What else was I supposed to do with it?” You joke.

You and Mobius head to the cubicle where you left Loki this morning. You spot him wapping against the desk with a magazine.

“Training going well?” You ask him. He leans back in his chair, attempting to look casual.

“Yeah.”

“Is that my jet ski magazine?” Mobius asks him. “Put it down. Gear up. There's been an attack. Let's go.” He hands Loki the jacket he’s been carrying. You set the briefing down on the desk, and follow Mobius. Loki trails behind you. “Put it on.” Loki shrugs the jacket on, adjusting the collar before posing.

“Nice.” You tell him with a smile.

“Good. Yeah, smart.” Mobius says distractedly. You soon reach the Timedoors, where a small group of hunters have gathered to wait. B-15 opens up the briefing.

“C-20 and her team went dark shortly after they jumped into the 1985 branch. All signs point to another ambush. We've grabbed enough temporal aura to know it's our Loki Variant. But which kind of Loki, remains unknown.”

“They're the lesser kind, to be clear.” Loki specifies. B-15 sighs,

“Let me see the back of that jacket.” Loki does a small turn, showing the group the back of his jacket, where the bright orange letters reading VARIANT stand out. Everyone is the group shares a small smile. You’re glad you don’t have to wear one of those anymore.

“Very subtle. Well done.”

“I don't want anybody out there to forget what you are.”

“Oh, your only hope of capturing a murderer?”

“No. A cosmic mistake.”

“That's enough.” Mobius interrupts.

“Lovely.” You hear Loki murmur.

“Here's the deal.” Mobius begins. “When we get out on the branch, we're not just looking for a Time Criminal. We're looking for a Loki. A variation of this guy. A type we should all be very familiar with, because the TVA has pruned a lotta these guys, almost more than any other Variant.” He skims through a few of the Loki Variants that the TVA have caught before. “And no two are alike. Slight differences in appearances, or not so slight. Different powers, although, powers generally include: shapeshifting, illusion projection, and my favourite-”

“Duplication casting.” Loki interrupts

“Illusion projection.”

“No, they're two completely different powers.”

“How?” You ask him.

“Illusion-projection involves depicting a detailed image from outside oneself, which is perceptible in the external world, whereas duplication-casting entails recreating an exact facsimile of one's own body in its present circumstance, which acts as a true holographic mirror of its molecular structure. But you already knew that.” He explains. You catch a glimpse of Mobius’s smirk before he says,

“Okay, take a breath. Noted. We're gonna break into two teams, including myself and Professor Loki.”

“Why?” A hunter stood beside you asks.

“Because whoever this Variant is, we haven't been able to find him. So let's bring in an expert.” Loki looks around at the group before adding a quiet,

“That's me.”

As the hunters prepare themselves, you hear Loki ask, “Do I get a weapon?” You laugh lightly,

“No chance.”

“Well, I'll have my magic back. Is no one concerned about that?”

“Of what?” Mobius asks.

“Me betraying you.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“You know that we’ll just catch you again.” You tell him.

“And how's betraying us gonna get you any closer to the Time-Keepers?” Mobius adds. Loki leans forward, his attention fixed on Mobius.

“An audience with the Time-Keepers is on the table?”

“Keep that focus.” Mobius tells him. The three of you follow the hunters through the Timedoor, and out into 1985 Wisconsin. Your group makes their way through the crowd of the Renaissance fair before entering a large tent. It’s dark inside, with only a few lanterns to light your path. You watch as B-15 bends down to grasp examine a helmet left abandoned on the floor.

“So he's taking hostages now?” She says, turning to Mobius.

“The Variant's never taken a hostage before.”

“Maybe he's upping his game.”

“Or he pruned her.” One of the hunters remarks, you frown at his callousness towards his colleague.

“A Loki couldn't have gotten the jump on C-20.”

“I think you underestimate, actually...” Loki begins.

“Fan out and search for her. And hurry up, we're at three units until red line.” B-15 orders. Mobius sets a hand on your arm, and the two of you head to the exit.

“Come on.” He says to Loki.

“Wait. If you leave this tent, you'll end up like them.” Mobius stops beside Loki.

“What do you see?”

“I see a scheme, and in that scheme, I see myself.” Loki begins to ramble about an old Asgardian saying.

“Two units. He is wasting our time.” B-15 interrupts.

“Okay. Come on, Loki, make a long story short.” Mobius encourages.

“We need to look for C-20.”

“That's exactly what the Variant wants you to do. It's a trap. He's waiting for you outside this tent.”

“Should I secure the reset charges?”

“No. He wants me. I'm the key to his plan. He knows that I'm stronger. And he rightly believes that together we can overthrow and rule the TVA. But that's not what I want. I have a new purpose. I'm a servant of the Sacred Timeline. And knowing what I now know about his tactics, I can deliver you the Variant, but I need assurances.” He says, looking to Mobius. You glance up at Mobius, frowning slightly. Surely he isn’t believing what Loki’s saying? His eyes catch yours and there’s a small twinkle in them. You hide your smile. Loki circles around Mobius.

“Yeah?” Mobius offers.

“Assurances that I won't be completely disintegrated the moment the job has been done.”

“Right.” Loki leans forward, before whispering,

“We'll need to speak to the Time-Keepers at once. They're in graver danger than we realized.”

“He's lying. Just playing games. There's no one out there.” Mobius calls out to the group.

“Reset the timeline.” B-15 orders.

“You had me for a second. My ears are sharp too.” He points at Loki’s chest. You follow Mobius out of the tent.

“Well that went well.” You remark, hearing Mobius sigh. He runs his hand over his face.

You’re tucking into your lunch when you spot Mobius. He picks out a drink and a salad before making his way over to you. You give him a small smile,

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

“How did it go with Renslayer?” He sighs, leaning his head back, before getting comfortable in his seat.

“Well, our Loki hasn’t been deleted yet.”

“That’s good then?” You offer. He sighs,

“Yeah. Though he’s getting more and more talkative.”

“You did say he loves to talk. Where is he now?”

“I’ve left him with the archives, hopefully he’ll be reading for the next few days. Or at least long enough for me to finish lunch.” He begins to eat his salad. Just then, Loki scampers in looking like a manic puppy.

“I found something.” Mobius shakes his head, keeping his attention on his lunch,

“No, I said don’t bother me until you've read all the files.”

“I have.”

“Every file?”

“Yes.”

“Pertaining to the Variant?”

“The answer isn't in the files, it's on the timeline. He's hiding in apocalypses.”

“Which apocalypse?” You ask.

“Any time in history? There's, like, a million of 'em.” Mobius adds.

“Ragnarok. Are you familiar?”

“Yes. The destruction of Asgard and most of its people. I'm sorry.” Loki pauses looking down.

“Yes, very sad.” He immediately perks up again. “Anyway, it got me thinking. Nexus events happen when someone does something they're not supposed to do, right?”

“Well, it's a little more complicated, but, yeah.”

“Great. And then that thing they're not supposed to do, cascades into a whole range of other things that aren't supposed to happen.”

“And so on and so forth, until eventually, a new timeline branches. Yes?”

“Chaotic alterations of a predetermined outcome.”

“Exactly. So, let's just say...” He picks up the salad bowl from in front of Mobius.

“Mm-hm. What are you doing?”

“...your salad is Asgard in this scenario.” Loki continues.

“It's not Asgard, that's my lunch.” Mobius complains, the pouting clear in his voice. You lean forward, a hand on your chin to hide the smile at Mobius’s reaction.

“It's a metaphor. Just hang in there.”

“I want that salad.”

“And I could go down to Asgard before Ragnarok causes its complete destruction and I could do anything I wanted. I could, let's say, push the Hulk off the Rainbow Bridge.” He picks up a salt shaker and puts a large sprinkling of salt across Mobius’s salad.

“There he goes.” You say, feeling rather invested in this metaphor.

“The salt's Hulk?” Mobius asks, clearly not as enthusiastic as you.

“And I could also... Set fire to the palace.” He picks up a pepper pot and shakes the pepper across the salad.

“No, just stop. Don't set fire to the palace.”

“Okay? I can do whatever I want to do, and it would never matter. It wouldn't go against the dictates of the timeline because...” He sets down the shakers after nearly emptying them both. He heads to the table behind you. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, God!” Mobius sighs.

“You!” Recognising the voice you look up to see Casey looking very confused.

“Nice to see you. I just need this for a second. Thanks.” Loki picks up Casey’s carton of juice, before sitting back down at your table. “Because the apocalypse is coming. Ragnarok, Surtur will destroy Asgard no matter what I do.”

“No, don't do...” Mobius sighs as Loki empties the carton over the remains of the salad.

“There's the apocalypse.” You say with a sigh, offering Mobius your bag of chips.

“That's the apocalypse?” He asks, taking a handful of chips from you with a smile.

“Ragnarok obliterates the salt. Ragnarok. There it is.” Loki gestures to the ruined salad with a proud smile.

“What am I lookin' at?”

“Okay, it was a clumsy metaphor. But you see what I mean. It doesn't matter. It could be any apocalypse. It could be a tidal wave. It could be a meteor. It could be a volcano, a supernova. If everything and everyone around you is destined for imminent destruction, then nothing that I say or do will matter, because the timeline's not gonna branch. Hence, the Variant could be hiding in the apocalypse and do whatever he wants, and we wouldn't know!”

“Not bad.” You offer.

“Take me to a real apocalypse, to Ragnarok, I'll show you.” Mobius chuckles,

“Yeah. So you can run away back to your homeland? No.”

“No, I'm not going home. We can go anywhere.”

“I'm not taking you for a stroll along the promenade, much less an apocalypse.”

“Oh, Mobius, come on! What could possibly go wrong? We gotta properly test this theory.”

“Well, here's a fun theory. You lure me out into the field, and stab me in the back. And that's a theory I don't wanna test.”

“I'd never stab anyone in the back. That's such a boring form of betrayal.” He most definitely would stab someone in the back.

“Loki, I've studied almost every moment of your entire life. You've literally stabbed people in the back, like 50 times.”

“Well, I'd never do it again, because it got old.” You both laugh at this. Mobius looks at you, and you shrug.

“Might as well try it?” You offer. Mobius nods,

“Okay.”

“Okay, look, you don't trust me, you can trust one thing. I love to be right.” Loki adds. That certainly isn’t a lie.

Tagslist: @n0obmaster69 @mackycat11 @wibblywobblyjeremybearimy @boriqs @morganwilliams @greeneyedblondie44

If you’d like to be tagged just ask!!

#mobius m mobius x reader #mobius x reader #agent mobius #mobius #mobius m mobius #mobius loki #loki 2021 #tva loki #time variance authority #marvel au #marvel x reader

[musicfordinner]

MUSIC DRAMAAAAAA: Jake x Taylor Edition

You know I’ve been anti-Taylor Swift my whole life until I heard this song All Too Well. It’s been this song that’s changed my views on her and her catalogue.

I just feel that this song is so perfectly executed, it’s so well written and reads like a fucking cautionary tale yet it’s something that we’ve all experienced as young women dating older partners at one time or another.

The lyrics of this song are so good, I’ve listened to this song maybe 50 times.

So boom, I guess it’s gotten to be too much for Jake and I give it up to Taylor Swift for rocking some white dudes like she’s always with the shits clapping back on white dudes in her own way, a lot of the time very directly and very specifically.

I don’t respect any of her interactions with Black women, especially in relation to Nicki Minaj.. but I also struggle to respect Nicki Minaj’s relationships with Black women in the light of the Little Mix debacle. Little Mix, none of whom are Black women, but I digress..

This song All Too Well really stood out to me lyrically. It’s pensive and just emotionally deep. It’s almost like hip hop in the sense that there’s just so many shots fired:

Speaking to the first highlighted section, there are so many old dudes who talk shit (kick game) to make younger women and girls feel like they’re the appropriate age to for them to be dating on some you’re so mature shit when they’re really just predators. .. Many of these men just can’t hack it with women their own age and I believe that to be a thing. They don’t want the accountability of a partner who expects them to be on the same level or at the same place as them. It’s whatever. It’s also something women learn from as they become older women. I know more about this shit now at Taylor’s age than I did 12-15 years ago.

Secondly, it’s about sex. Taylor explicitly stated it’s about sex - you’re not good for the long term but yo it’s that young p that they want. Facts. There’s plenty of videos of predators online talking about how to lure young women for whatever fuckshit they want them for. There’s even a contingent of videos of these same dudes “dissing and dismissing” women on some sick maladjusted type bs. I like the women talking about and biting back. First Promising Young Woman a film that I loved and of course this song is something on point.

Lastly, how she got him on his hypocrisy of the first statement about her being older things could have worked out.. when all the bitches after her are still this stunted age even as he ages and ages. Wild. And really funny actually and the best line. Like she’s just on point with the shots. Especially considering Jake (41) his girlfriend is a young woman (25). Which means she was just born when he was 16 years old. Mad weird. It’s whatever, but still. Some folks need their lovers to be babies. It’s the only way they feel safe as partners. They need someone to inspire and care for like a child. It’s a thing. Therapy they might ignore, but youth.. they suck these young ladies dry. Which is why I hope these women are getting their coin, which I’m sure they are.

I love that she wraps up the whole song with giving him back the drama that he created in her life.. literally and figuratively. Sometimes you gotta wait until you’re an older bitch to illustrate the kind of nonsense that happens when you were a younger naive girl. It’s why I love a personal memoir chileeee!

It’s interesting how he’s trying to reclaim or remove himself from her narrative. If I was Taylor I’d be smiling and enjoying the spectacle that this has caused him, which I’m sure she is.. somewhere smiling her sly smile while her heart remains joyous and this is a win of a song for anyone who’s dated an older person, an older man in particular. It’s a unique and highly relatable song. I love it. Taylor got me as a fan with this one.

Jake seems completely pressed and I find it really funny that he’s on some “we should be talking about Cyber bullying.” My G, get the fuck outta here!! Why don’t we talk about how there’s millions of women out here and you choose to source from women who are almost exactly half your age. What tf is wrong with you. Like — hush. On some sideline shit I think that this is why society has a hard time of progressing things forward for different groups and why younger men in this girl’s age group are pressed that they’ll never find the women that they want 1) their jobs are LACKING, old folks refuse to get out the way and let people grow and come up and let families have the same chances as they did.. inflaming all markets from love to Housing. 2) young dudes feel like they can’t compare because all the lines are crossed. No signs on how to evolve because no one is leaving the pool we don’t even know what it looks like when niggas is dry, because they refuse to dry off, put some clothes on and act like they got some sense.. they want to be at the pool party for the rest of they lives!

Anyway.. I just found this whole thing very interesting. The song slaps and the ending is gorgeous. I hope Jake stays pressed.

#Taylor Swift #jake gyllenhaal #chantel’s sound diary #music journal #music diary #music nerds #choice trax #music nerd #self isolation #quarantine #apple music #music dreams #random #Apple news

[emm-jayy]

unexpected (i)- spencer reid

Summary: Your whole family is killed, and the BAU is on the case

warnings: smut, and mention of throwing up

word count: 4k

series masterlist

gif not mine

Spencer walks into the 6th floor of the FBI building, sporting a cup of coffee he’d gotten by a local shop.

“Hey Reid, what did you do this weekend?” Emily asks, looking up from her desk.

“I went down to the library to read, and then some kids asked me how I finished all the hooks so fast. They wanted me to compete with them on speed reading.” Spencer says, nodding.

“Did any of them beat you?” Emily ask, raising an eyebrow.

“No, of course not.” Spencer replies.

Emily laughs, “Well, we’ve got a case, let’s go.” She says, picking up a file, and walking to the briefing room.

Spencer follows, walking into the briefing room. Most everyone is already there, and Spencer sits down at the round table.

Garcia begins, putting pictures on the screen. “This is the Y/L/N family from Washington . They were killed in their homes last night, via gunshots to the parents, and suffocation with a plastic bag to the son.” Garcia says, “The daughter, Y/n, was living at college not too far away, so she was spared from the crime.” Garcia says.

“That family is low-risk. If the unsub isn’t attached to the family, he could easily pick a new family quickly. Wheels up in 30.” Hotch says, closing the file.

On the jet, the team speculates about the unsub. “Our unsub probably suffocated the boy with little to no noise, and then shot the parents in their bed. Quickly in succession.” Morgan says, looking at the photos.

“That means our unsub probably has some common sense, I say this was premeditated to an extent.” Emily comments.

“Reid and Morgan, I want you at the crime scene. Emily and JJ, work victimology at the precinct. Rossi and I will talk to the daughter.” Hotch says, knowing that the team is landing soon.

Everyone nods, and begins to pack up.

Spencer and Morgan pull on their gloves as they enter the crime scene. They walk into the room where the mother and father were shot.

“The blood splatter is almost exactly the same on both sides. That means that the unsub had no hesitation about killing them both.” Morgan says.

“No remorse either.” Spencer says, “What was the gun the unsub used?” Spencer asks an officer next to him.

“9 millimeter.” The officer replies, “The guy took the gun with him though.”

Spencer nods, and then hears yelling from downstairs, and commotion. He looks toward Morgan, and they rush downstairs.

“You need to let me see them!” You scream, trying to get past the officers near the door.

Morgan puts his hands up, “Wow, wow ma’am. What’s going on?” He asks you.

“You guys have to let me see my family!” You exclaim, wiping tears from your eyes.

“Okay. I’m Agent Morgan, and this is Doctor Reid from the FBI. You’re Y/n right?”

You nod, looking at him hesitantly.

“Now, aren’t you supposed to be down at the station.” Morgan asks.

“FBI? What? Yes, I'm supposed to be down at the station but I needed to see them.” You say, breathless.

“They’re not here. They’ve been moved to the morgue for further analysis.” Morgan says.

“Oh.” You say quietly. “Well he’s a doctor, can’t he take me to them?” You ask, looking at Spencer.

“I’m not that type of Doctor actually. I hold three PhD’s in-” Spencer begins, but Morgan interrupts him. “Not now kid. Can I talk to you for a minute?” Morgan asks Spencer, pulling him aside.

“We don’t have anyone at the morgue right now, do you want to take her?” Morgan asks.

“What?” Spencer asks in a hushed voice. “Why me?”

“You’re closer to her in age, she might give more information then she thinks if you just talk to her.” Morgan says.

Spencer thinks about it, then looks back up, “Okay.” and then walks back up to you.

“I’ll take you to the morgue.” Spencer says. You nod, and follow him out the door.

You sit in the passenger seat, and you look over at Spencer. “Do you have any idea who did this?” You ask.

“We just got on the scene. I have 6 other people on my team, and they are working other parts of the case currently.” Spencer says, looking at the road.

“Well, what do you think?” You ask, crossing your arms.

“It really is too early to tell. But from what i’ve seen I can tell it was premeditated, and that there was no hesitation in killing your parents.” Spencer says, almost regretting the words that were coming out of his mouth. They were almost facts,sure, but he still felt bad.

“Oh. You can tell all of that by just looking at pictures?” You ask.

“Yeah, we’ve studied extensive behaviors. A lot of them are similar. Also, a lot of what i just told you could be figured out by a lot of people, it’s kind of just common sense.” Spencer says, and you nod.

When Spencer pulls into the parking lot, your breaths seem to get heavier.

“Hey.” Spencer says. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

“No.” You shake your head, “I need to.” You say, taking a breath.

“Alright.” Spencer says, pushing the door open for you.

The M.E pulls the bodies out of the cold chamber, and pulls back the sheets.

You gasp, putting a hand over your mouth. Spencer attempts to be sympathetic, and puts a hand on your shoulder.

“Maybe I should drive you back to the station.” Spencer says quietly. You nod, tears slowly falling down your face.

“Come on.” He says, leading you out the door.

The car ride back is mostly filled with silence, until Spencer breaks it.

“Is there anyone you can think of who would do this to your family?” He asks.

“No. Everyone adored them. If anything I was the problem child.” You mutter.

“Hey, don’t say that.” Spencer says, furrowing his eyebrows.

You laugh at the pity he’s giving you, “It’s true.”

Spencer doesn’t answer, and eventually, he pulls into the station.

“Some other people on my team have to question you.” Spencer says, putting the car into park.

“Okay.” You say, unbuckling your seatbelt.

You and Spencer walk into the station, and head to the bullpen.

“Reid! Where the hell have you been with her?” Rossi asks whenever you two walk into the bullpen.

“She showed up at the crime scene, demanding to see her family. I took her to the morgue so she would maybe answer some questions. Nothing too helpful.” Spencer says, quietly so only Rossi can hear.

He nods, and then takes you aside for some light questioning.

He walks over to where the rest of the team is, around a bulletin board.

“Do you guys have any leads?” Spencer asks, standing near the board.

“We think the unsub is a psychopath. I’ve never seen anyone kill with less hesitation or remorse.” Emily says, and Spencer nods.

“I forgot to ask. Were there signs of forced entry?” Spencer asks, and the team shakes their heads.

Spencer walks over to the room they had you in, and walks to Hotch, who’s observing.

“Have you asked her if the family would lock their doors at night?” Spencer asks Hotch.

“Yes. She said they usually didn’t since they lived in a good neighborhood.” Hotch replies.

Spencer shakes his head, sighing, and then walks back over to the board.

Around 30 minutes pass, and then you’re let out of the room.

It was a little past nine at this point, and everyone had been working tirelessly.

“Doctor Reid?” Spencer heard a voice call, and he turned around.

“Yeah?” He said, facing you.

“Do you think you could drive me back to my hotel room. I don’t have a car.” You say, innocent eyes boring into his own.

Spencer turns toward the team, and Morgan speaks up, “Go ahead kid. We need to sleep on this anyway.”

Spencer nods, grabbing his bag and coat, following you out the door.

“Why not have an officer take you to your room?” He asks, after driving for a bit, genuinely curious.

Your answer was hesitant, “I don’t know, I think I feel more comfortable with you.”

“Hm.” Spencer answers, a small smile forming on his face.

Spencer pulls into the parking lot of the pretty nice hotel. He unbuckled his seatbelt, and was going to open the door.

“What are you doing?” You ask, looking at him.

“I’m making sure you get up to your room safe. What type of FBI agent would I be if i didn’t do that?” He asks, a smile on his face. You laugh lightly.

Spencer follows you from the lobby, in the elevator, and to the door of your room.

You unlock it, and he steps inside.

Spencer takes in your bag, thrown on the bed. It was obvious you went straight from here to your home.

“Okay well it seems like you got here safe. I should be go-” Spencer is interrupted by your lips on his.

The kiss was over as soon as it began, giving Spencer almost no time to process what just happened.

“How old are you again?” is all Spencer had to say. He knew how old you are, he had an eidetic memory. He just wanted you to hear it.

“22.” You said, looking at your feet.

Spencer knew it was wrong, your family had just died. It would get him in so much trouble. But the adrenaline rush of the trouble he might get in, and the fact that your tits looked so good in that low cut shirt you were wearing. Fuck.

“I’m sorry Doctor Reid.” You say quietly.

He pushes your chin up with his finger, and leans towards your ear. “It’s Spencer.” He says, and then crashes his lips to yours.

Spencer walks forward, moving you towards the bed. He pushes your bag off, and lays you down on the edge of the bed.

Spencer shoves your shirt up, marveling at your perfect breasts. He licks one over the material, and a low moan comes from you.

“Is this okay princess?” Spencer asks you, and you nod very urgently.

Spencer takes your shirt all the way off, his following. He unclips your bra, taking one of your nipples in his mouth.

You moan, pulling on his hair. Spencer trails back up, kissing from the swell of your breast to your earlobe.

You try to unbutton your jeans, but Spencer’s hand stops you, “Patience, darling.” He says, and finishes unbuttoning them for you.

Spencer feels the wet spot in your underwear. “Are you this wet for me?” He asks, whispering in your ear.

You moan out a yes, and then he unbuckles his pants, sliding them off.

He climbs on top of you, and grinds against your clothed pussy. You both groan at the friction.

“No foreplay.” You say, “I can’t wait.”

Spencer nods, and then groans, “Fuck, I don’t have a condom.”

“I’m on the pill, and I'm clean.” You reply.

“Thank god, I’m clean too.” Spencer sighs in relief, “Now. Turn over sweetness.” He says to you, and you comply.

Spencer slides off your underwear, and takes off his boxers. He slides his cock up and down your slit, until you arch your back, whining for him to slide it in.

Finally, Spencer does. Eliciting a high moan from you, and a low groan from him.

He lets you adjust to his size for a moment, and then begins to thrust.

You grab onto the sheets, and Spencer’s hands are glued to your ass, pushing you back onto his cock.

One hand of Spencer’s drifts to your hair, pulling you up by it slightly. The slight pain causes your walls to clench, making Spencer groan.

“Fuck. Good girl” Spencer mutters between thrusts, “Gonna make me come.”

Spencer reaches a hand around your hips, and begins to rub your clit.

“Fuck. I’m close.” You say breathlessly.

“Me too pretty girl. Let go for me.” Spencer says, and you do exactly that. You yell Spencer’s name as you come

In the midst of your orgasm, you feel Spencer spill inside of you.

You feel Spencer fall beside you, mind still hazy from your orgasm.

You lay on his chest, just reveling in the experience for a few minutes.

After those few minutes of bliss though, Spencer knows what he has to do. He sighs.

“I hate to do this.” He says, truly meaning it, “But I have to leave. I could get in so much trouble for this.” He says.

Spencer expects a look of hurt on your face, and it shows up, “It was worth it sweetness,” He says, running his hand down your face, “I promise. Here, put your number in my phone. I’ll text you updates on the case.” He says, handing you his phone.

You do what he asks, bringing the sheet up to cover your body.

“As soon as the case is over, we can be together all we want. But right now it would be a conflict of interest, and I really want to bring your family’s killer to justice.” Spencer explains to you.

You nod, and Spencer kisses you once again, passionately.

Spencer slowly gets dressed, not really wanting to leave. When he’s ready, he gives you another kiss, smiling down at you.

“I’ll see you later Y/n.” Spencer says.

It’s close to 11 whenever Spencer gets to the hotel the team is staying at.

Morgan is still in the lobby, sitting with Emily. “What took you so long, man?” Morgan asks Spencer.

“Uh, Y/n was scared to stay in her room alone. I had to stay there for a bit to reassure her. I think that’s why she wanted me to take her, more safe than a beat cop I guess.” Spencer says, the lies coming out of his mouth so easily.

“Alright kid, go get some sleep. You look tired.” Morgan says, gesturing to his eye bags.

Spencer nods, heading up to his room. He was tired, but from something completely different than Morgan thought.

Spencer takes a quick shower, something he wished he could’ve done at your hotel.

He throws on a caltech shirt and shorts, and falls onto the hotel bed.

~

Spencer awakes to knocking on his door. He checks his phone, 5:34 AM. He groans, and stumbles towards the door.

He opens it, rubbing his eyes, and sees Morgan.

“There’s been another family murder, same M.O. The son was suffocated and the parents killed in their beds.” Morgan says quickly.

Spencer nods, “I’ll be down as soon as I can.” He says, becoming pretty awake almost instantly.

He closes the door, and turns on the lamp. Spencer grabs his phone, and texts you. He assumes you’re asleep, but you’ll see it when you wake up.

“There’s been another family murder.” Spencer types to you, and then begins to get dressed.

He rides in the SUV with Morgan, Rossi, and JJ. “This was the Miller family, right?” Spencer asks, looking on his tablet.

“Yeah, and they only had a son, no daughter off at college. I think we can assume the unsub hasn’t been watching these family’s all that long.” Morgan says, Spencer nods.

The team shows up at the crime scene, pulling on their gloves. Spencer heads up to the parent’s room with Emily.

“God. No hesitation again. Or struggle.” Emily says, shaking her head.

“Do we think the unsub has a socioeconomic motive?” Spencer asks, “Both the family’s have been pretty well off, maybe he resents that.”

Emily nods, taking in that information.

The team finishes getting information at the crime scene, and then they head back to the station to attempt to deliver the profile after discussion.

“My thing is, why does the unsub use such a quiet method with the first victim, and then shoots the others?” JJ asks.

“It’s possible the unsub knows he couldn’t fight off that many people at once.” Spencer says, “He takes out one victim rooms away, and then kills them in succession because he can’t fend any of them off if they were awake.”

“So do you think our unsub is a short skinny guy?” Emily asks, and Spencer nods.

As everyone else is discussing, Spencer pulls out his phone.

“We are going to deliver the profile soon if you want to come down here.” Spencer texted. It was around 9, surely you’d be awake.

A response from you follows quickly after, “On my way.”

Spencer puts his phone back in his bag, and listens to everyone else put in their ideas. About 20 minutes later, Hotch says, “I think we’re ready to give the profile.”

“Our unsub is a male in his late 20s to early 30s” Morgan starts.

“We believe him to be short and scrawny, someone you wouldn’t think to commit a crime.” JJ says.

“We have reason to believe that he either grew up poor, and that’s why he resents the well off. Or he grew up middle class, and he resents his own family.” Hotch explains.

“Either way. We are looking at someone very dangerous. The unsub hasn't shown any remorse or hesitation in these murders. We believe him to be a functioning psychopath.” Emily says.

“Functioning psychopaths are someone you’d never expect.” Spencer begins, “They seem genuine, but you might be able to pick up on slightly manipulative behaviors.”

“That’s all we have for right now. We will alert you if we have anything more.” Rossi says, and the officers and detectives around them disband.

Spencer is collecting his things, when he feels someone behind him. There you are, a look of anger on your face.

“What the hell was that? I know like a hundred guys with that description you just gave.” You say, crossing your arms.

“That’s just something we use to get started. We will work more to narrow it down.” Spencer explains.

“Reid.” Hotch says, “What is she doing here?” He asks.

“I just wanted to be here. It’s not like I have anything else to do.” You grumble.

Spencer gives Hotch a look, like he really feels bad for you. Hotch nods, and walks away.

“Hey. Let’s go talk in private.” Spencer says. He takes you into an abandoned office, and closes the door.

As soon as the door is closed, your lips are on his. When Spencer smiles against your lips, you pull away. Spencer laughs slightly, “Not here princess.” He says.

You pout, giving him puppy dog eyes. Spencer can’t resist, you just look so damn perfect. He once again smashes his lips against yours, his hands drifting to your breasts.

He squeezes them, and you let out a breathy moan, “Be quiet for me princess.” He says softly, unbuttoning your pants.

“This is okay right?” Spencer asks against your lips, and you breathe a yes.

Spencer’s hands drifts down to your clit, rubbing soft circles on it. He spins you around, to where your back is pressed against the door.

Spencer’s middle finger slides down to your entrance, and he eases his finger into you. You let out a moan when he curves his fingers, and Spencer’s hand is immediately on your mouth.

He slides another finger into your heat, and thrusts them as best as he could without your pants being off.

He moves his hand from your mouth, and replaces it with his lips. You kiss for a little bit, until the pleasure becomes too much for you. You move your head down, and bite Spencer’s shoulder to keep you from moaning.

“Fuck.” Spencer says, rubbing your clit with his thumb.

He feels you clench around him, and he knows you’re close. “Cmon baby, come on my fingers.” He says softly.

You do just that, and let out a soft moan, muffled by Spencer’s shirt.

After you come down from you high, Spencer pulls his hand out of your pants. You giggle, embarrassed at what you just did.

“Do I look like I just came?” You say, fixing your hair.

Spencer laughs, running a hand down your face. “No sweetness.” He says, “Whenever we walk out, I’m going to pretend like we are having a conversation.” He tells you, and you nod.

He opens the door, and begins to speak. “I’m sorry Y/n, but you can’t be around here anymore, I’ll call you an uber back to your hotel.” Spencer pulls out his phone.

He glances up at you, and he sees the fake annoyed face you put on. He smiles slightly, setting up the uber.

“It should be here soon, go wait outside.” Spencer tells you, and you comply.

“Damn Reid. What was she asking you for in there?” Morgan asks, and Spencer shrugs him off.

There was nothing more to do that day except wait. They were waiting for lab reports and things, so everyone was working on their own thing.

~

Two hours later, the captain gets a call in his office. Spencer sees the captains face change, and Spencer knows something is wrong.

The captain comes out of his office, luckily the whole team is there.

“We have another family murder, and witnesses say that there was someone in a dark blue hoodie getting away by foot.” He says.

“I need everyone in their gear in 2 minutes.” Hotch says, “I want Reid, Morgan, Prentiss and Rossi driving around the area of the crime. The unsub couldn’t have gotten far.”

Everyone nods, and gets ready as soon as possible.

3 minutes later, everyone is in the SUV with vests on.

Morgan is driving, and turns the sirens on. The area around the house of the crime is basically a circle, so they begin to drive around it.

“Since we know this unsub is intelligent, they would probably head towards the city, a more populated area means it's harder to get caught.” Spencer says from the backseat. Morgan nods, heading in that direction.

After driving in that general area for a bit, Morgan slams his hand on the wheel, turning off his lights.

“This is pointless.” He sighs.

And just then, Spencer sees a figure slips out from the bushes beside a house.They were wearing a blue hoodie and jeans.

They began to move down the sidewalk, at a slightly faster pace than a walk.

Spencer waves his hand, “Morgan!” He says, pointing at the house about 200 feet down.

The whole team automatically opens their doors, rushing over to the unsub.

They all draw their guns, and Morgan yells, “Put your hands up or I will shoot.”

The person slowly puts their hands up, shaking their head.

“Now put your hands on your head, and turn around.” Morgan yells, and the figure begins to turn around.

“Took you long enough.” The person says as they turn around. The voice. Spencer can almost match it. Then, the figure turns around completely.

You.

You have a smirk on your face, looking at Spencer. “What?” You ask, “You weren’t expecting me, Doctor Reid?”

It all made sense to him now. He had given you his number, and he was texting you updates. You had inserted yourself into the investigation to the extreme. A functioning psychopath, and Spencer didn’t notice.

Spencer’s mouth is open, and he can’t even reply to you.

“Yeah Hotch, we got her.” He hears Emily say into her comm.

Spencer has to walk over to the side of the pavement, and he retches. Rossi comes up behind him, “Kid? What’s the matter?” Spencer can’t even respond.

He stands back up, trying to look at you, but he can’t.

“Call me!” You say, to Spencer as you are forced into the car. “Oh wait. I’m the one who gets the one phone call.” You laugh.

~

@1800-fight-me @rachel-rebellio @itsarayofsunshine @cupcake525 @soupmakesmynoserun @elizabethkaylynn @drspencr @mattgraygubler @nanocoool @reid-187 @darling-doll9 @disney-dreams-world @myfavbau @softpeteparker @chaoticsteverogers @throughparisallthroughrome @whollytaciturn @imsuperawkward @pinkprincenamjoon @pprettyboyreid @reidswords

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #mgg #cm #gublergram #gublernation #gube #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #sebastian stan #68 kill #suburban gothic #emily prentiss

[mascwhump]

Chapter 13 - Turning Blue

My new longest one. 3,371 words.

TW: noncon kissing, noncon touching, choking, guns, blood, noncon drugging (mention)

Tag list: @whatwasmyprevioususername @milk-carton-whump @whumpasaurus101 @whatwhumpcomments @mnmlover2002 @ashintheairlikesnow

-

Time seemed to slow down. Charlie felt as though shards of ice had entered his veins. He raised his hands and pushed Mallory back before turning away and heading for the basement. He stumbled slightly, a mixture of the intoxication and the tears blurring his vision.

He made it down the steps and slid down against the wall, pulling his legs up and burying his face in them. He hugged his knees and tried to prevent himself from hyperventilating. His ears strained as he listened for footsteps, but they never came.

He ended up on his side, curled up. The tears eventually stopped, and he stared at nothing. The overwhelming sense of confusion numbed his brain. He finally closed his eyes and fell asleep.

He woke up in a cold sweat to soft fur brushing against him. He was having a nightmare, but he couldn't remember anything besides feeling cold and not being able to breathe. Sasha kissed his nose and he smiled softly as he pet her. She curled up next to him and he was able to fall back asleep.

Charlie slept through the rest of the night. When he woke, he looked over to find a brown paper shopping bag sitting on the floor by the stairs with a note attached. He walked over to it as he stretched and picked up the note.

Charlie,

Went shopping. There are some clothes and some other items for you in the bag. Shave your face.

- M

He scratched his head before setting the note aside and began pulling things out of the bag. There was a razor, a bottle of shaving cream, a toothbrush and toothpaste, a pack of black boxer briefs, a pair of grey joggers, and a white long sleeve t-shirt.

He put everything back in the bag and took it into the bathroom. He started the shower and washed himself, then dried off before opening the razor. He turned on the sink and lathered his face with shaving cream.

He was right about having bruises on his neck. He tried to ignore them as he shaved. The beard he had started to grow was bothering him. It was a small relief to have a clean face, even if he did prefer to keep a little stubble. He rinsed the sink and then brushed his teeth.

Finally, he got dressed, and stepped back into the main room. The door to the stairs was shut. He wondered if Mallory was home. He passed the time by looking at all the different types of alcohol in the bar, then he decided to take a risk and turn on the TV. He'd hear Mallory come down the stairs. He could turn it off before he knew a thing.

Charlie sat on the floor in front of the couch and grabbed the remote off of the coffee table. He clicked on the TV, and was met by the deafening sound of daytime television. He fumbled with the remote to shut it off. Once he did, he sprinted to the other side of the room, acting as though nothing happened.

But the door unlocked and Mallory came down.

"Did you touch the telly?" He asked, arms folded.

"No," Charlie lied.

"Really?"

"Really."

"Then what was that noise I just heard?"

"I fell."

"You falling sounds like the telly blaring at full volume?"

Charlie shrugged. Mallory sighed and sat down on the second to last step.

"Your face was starting to look like you had gotten lost in the woods," Mallory said.

"I'd prefer being lost in the woods to this," Charlie mumbled.

"If you're going to speak to me like that, you can at least speak up," Mallory replied.

"Go fuck yourself," Charlie hissed.

He didn't care anymore. Mallory stood and moved right in front of him. Charlie rose to his feet and stared straight back.

"You heard me," he spat, "I said go fuck yourself."

Mallory raised his hand to smack him, but he was able to duck just in time. He moved away and brought his fists up in front of him.

"You're going to fight me now?" Mallory questioned.

Charlie swung and missed.

"Alright, but if you lose," Mallory said as he dodged another swing, "I get to have my way with you."

"What does that mean, exactly?" Charlie asked, moving backwards.

"Don't know yet. We'll see, won't we?"

"And if I win?"

"Then I'll get whatever you want for dinner and I'll leave you alone for the rest of the night. I’ll even let you sleep on the bed in there.”

Charlie liked his chances. Mallory was hungover, and he was full of adrenaline. He slipped his shirt over his head and brought his fists back up. He swung, but it connected to Mallory's shoulder. Mallory swung back and managed to get him in the jaw. Charlie shook it off and prepared for another hit, but he was instead forced to the ground. Mallory landed a few hits to his head before he was able to gain his bearings and roll.

They were back on their feet, and he got a few jabs in before Mallory had him on the ground again. This time, he was face down, and Mallory had his arm pinned behind his back. He used all of his strength to push him off, to no avail.

"You motherfucker," Charlie hissed.

"Give up?" Mallory taunted.

Charlie tried again to push him off, but he was sitting on his legs. He couldn't roll, and Mallory was just pulling his arm tighter.

"Fuck, fuck! Okay," Charlie grunted, hitting the ground with his free hand.

They got up and Mallory straightened his clothes, a smirk on his lips. Charlie rubbed his shoulder as he glared at him.

"That was far too easy," Mallory said, "I'm finding it harder and harder to believe that you're some special forces operator."

"Fuck you. I've been in shitty conditions for what, a month now? Of course I'm not at my peak."

"Oh, well. What matters is that I won. I'll be back in a bit," Mallory said before starting up the stairs.

Charlie slumped to the ground and folded his arms. He was pissed, and now he had to worry about what Mallory planned to do with him later. He shuddered at the thoughts in his head. He picked up his shirt from the ground and slipped it back on, suddenly becoming very uncomfortable being undressed.

A few hours passed until Mallory came down again. He turned a dial on the wall which lowered the lights, making them dim, but not enough for it to be dark. Charlie sat in the corner with his knees pulled up. Mallory lifted his hand and looked at his bandaged finger. Charlie’s mind cut to last night, and he hoped that it wouldn’t be brought up.

“I’ve pondered over what I should with you all day,” Mallory said.

Charlie stayed silent. He watched Mallory as he took a seat at the bar and turned toward him.

“We’ve concluded that the data we’ve collected from testing Q-179 is sufficient enough. Now, we will begin working on a version that doesn’t require that special gene,” Mallory explained, “This allows us to begin the testing phase of other serums we’ve created. Like the truth serum, for example.”

Charlie’s eyes went wide.

“Oh, don’t worry, love. I’ve realized that I don’t need it,” Mallory said, stepping off the barstool, “because I can get the truth out of you just fine without it.”

Charlie pressed his back into the wall as he was approached. Once in front of him, Mallory motioned for him to stand up with his finger. Charlie slow rose to his feet. Mallory took hold of his wrist and pulled him over to the couch, where he sat him down in the middle. He began pacing in front of the TV.

“We’re going to play a fun game of would you rather. Only, I’ll be asking all of the questions. You have ten seconds to answer. Whenever you take longer than that, it’s a point. You’ll learn what the points mean after we’re through. Understand?”

Charlie nodded just as Mallory’s phone began to ring. He pulled it out of his pocket and answered it before putting it to his ear.

“Already? That was quick. Perfect timing, actually. I’ll be up in a moment,” he said into the phone before hanging up.

He walked away and up the stairs before Charlie could ask. Charlie sat with a puzzled expression for a moment. The possibilities of what could be happening frightened him. It was a few minutes before he could hear Mallory talking to someone upstairs. Then, heavy footsteps started down the steps. He held his breath as he waited.

The last thing he expected was for Crow to appear.

Charlie shot up from his seat, but Mallory shot him a look which made him sink back down. He and another man he hadn’t seen before were holding Crow’s arms. His wrists were bound behind his back, and his ankles were tied with rope. A blindfold covered his eyes and a gag was tied in his mouth. They lead him over to the area in front of the TV and the man kicked Crow to his knees.

“This is my associate, Rudy,” Mallory said.

“I’ve been wanting to get a look at you in person since you arrived,” Rudy said, a cruel smirk on his lips.

His curly auburn hair was messy, and his eyes were as dark as coal. Charlie kept his focus on Crow as Mallory began to remove the blindfold. Once his eyes adjusted to the light, they went wide. Charlie did his best to offer a comforting smile.

“I wasn’t expecting this, but it appears he will be joining our little game,” Mallory said.

Rudy moved behind the couch and leaned against the wall. Crow had closed his eyes and his head had fallen forward a little bit. His eyes shot open when Mallory snapped his fingers.

“How much Versed did you give him?” Mallory questioned.

“Enough. I can wake him up for you, if you’d like,” Rudy replied.

Mallory ignored his comment and clasped his hands together before speaking.

“Let’s begin. Alright. Charlie, would you rather be stuck in a tiny closet for three days, or be stuck underwater for two minutes?” Mallory asked.

“What the fuck kind of question is that?” Charlie spat.

“Ten seconds. Answer the question,” Mallory hissed.

“I-I guess the closet? I don’t know,” Charlie said.

“Good,” Mallory answered.

Rudy snickered. Charlie clenched his jaw. Crow began to shift uncomfortably, and Charlie’s heart ached, knowing how uncomfortable his jaw must’ve been. Mallory paced between Crow and the coffee table.

“Would you rather... be stabbed, or be shot?” He asked.

“Depends where at,” Charlie said.

“Answer.”

“Stabbed, I-I guess? What’s the point of this?”

A muffled sound came from Crow, and Mallory placed his hand on his head. Charlie clenched his jaw.

“Would you rather go without water for three days, or without food for five?”

“You can die after three days without water,” Charlie said, “so, food.”

Rudy stepped over to the bar and started to make himself a drink.

“Hey, no,” Mallory snapped, “I need you cognizant.”

“Aw, no fun,” Rudy sighed as he returned to his place by the wall.

“Let’s step this up a bit, shall we? Would you rather I give him a black eye, or kiss me?”

Crow tried to move, but Mallory held him down by pressing on his shoulders. Charlie began to panic, eyes darting between the two.

“Tick tock,” Mallory spoke.

Crow shook his head. Charlie opened his mouth to speak when Mallory cut him off.

“Time’s up, that’s a point,” he said.

“Wait, I-“

“Shut it. Next question, would you rather I hit you, or him?”

“Me,” Charlie spoke without a second thought.

Crow began shaking his head again, this time more frantically, as Mallory left him to approach Charlie. Rudy replaced him to hold Crow in place. He flicked out a switchblade and held it to his throat. Mallory didn’t give Charlie a chance to protect himself, and reeled back his fist. It connected to the side of his face.

Charlie’s hands flew up to cover his head. He began to taste blood, and felt around to see if another tooth had gotten knocked loose. He realized he had bitten the inside of his cheek. Knowing how Mallory would react to blood on his carpet, he tore his shirt over his head and held it to his mouth as blood began to spill out.

“Aw, did that hurt? Let me see,” Mallory teased.

Charlie slowly pulled the now bloodied shirt away from his mouth. Muffled curses came from Crow as he noticed the amount of blood.

“It’ll heal,” Mallory stated, almost disappointedly.

Charlie put the shirt back to his mouth and glared at him.

“I guess that’s enough for now,” Mallory sighed.

“But it was just beginning to get good,” Rudy whined.

“Oh, I know, but we can pick up where we left off later. Only one point, Charlie. I’m surprised,” Mallory said, “I’d thought for sure you’d get more. Come, Rudy. Let’s get something to eat, and we can discuss what to do with these two.”

Rudy laughed as he followed Mallory, but ruffled his fingers through Charlie’s hair before leaving. Charlie listened as they went up the stairs, then, as soon as the door closed, he raced to Crow. He dropped the shirt on the coffee table and began to undo the gag.

“Charlie,” Crow spoke.

“I’m so happy to see you,” Charlie said softly as he wrapped his arms around Crow.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you before,” Crow said.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. I don’t care about that, I’m just happy that you’re alright.”

Charlie moved behind him to undo the bindings on his wrists and ankles. As soon as they were off, they both stood, and Crow pulled Charlie into a hug.

“We’ll be okay,” he whispered, “I’ll get us out of this.”

It was then Charlie realized that they had never hugged before. He never wanted to let go. Eventually, he did, but only because Crow had to sit.

“I’m sorry, I’m really dizzy,” he said, “they’ve had me drugged up since I last saw you.”

“It’s okay,” Charlie said, sitting next to him.

“That Rudy bloke is a real prick.”

“I assumed so. He seems like a piece of work.”

“That’s an understatement. He took over when Mallory left, and he takes ‘power trip’ to new levels. I even heard some of the guards talking shite about him.”

“So he’s a megalomaniac?”

“Pretty much, yeah. Even worse than Mallory.”

The two spent a long time talking. At one point, Charlie felt like they were back home, having one of their conversations at the dining table. He had a sense of comfort that he hadn’t had in a long time.

“What do you reckon that point means?” Crow asked.

“Don’t know, and I don’t want to find out,” Charlie replied.

Charlie got up to rinse the blood from his mouth. After he came back, they both looked toward the stairs when they heard a quiet scratching.

“The bloody hell is that?” Crow wondered aloud.

“Sasha,” Charlie replied.

“Sasha?”

“She’s his cat. She likes to come down here.”

“You mean to tell me he likes animals? That’s surprising.”

Sasha suddenly came bolting down the stairs. The door must’ve been opened. She ran over to Charlie, but stopped when she noticed Crow. She was cautious, but began to consider him.

“I don’t remember saying you could untie him,” Mallory spoke.

Charlie’s blood ran cold. Rudy stepped off of the stairs and stood next to Mallory, holding something behind his back.

“No matter. Charlie, come with me,” Mallory said, then nodded to Rudy, “and you keep him under control.”

Charlie looked at Crow before standing and walking

over to Mallory. Rudy revealed a pistol, and aimed it at Crow.

“Won’t shoot ya if you stay still,” He said.

Charlie followed Mallory into the bedroom, and Mallory locked the door behind them. He took his phone out of his pocket and opened the timer app.

“Each point meant twenty minutes of punishment. Luckily for you, you only got one point,” Mallory spoke.

“Please, I was going to answer,” Charlie pleaded.

“You had ten seconds to answer, and you wasted them. One more word, and I’m adding another twenty minutes,” Mallory snapped.

Charlie backed himself into the wall next to the bed as his heart raced. Mallory took off his belt and snapped it in his hands. Charlie put his hands up, and Mallory swung it at him. It connected to his shoulder with a loud crack. He cried out as he slid to the ground, pulling his knees up and hiding his face in them. The belt cracked against the hand covering his head.

“Get up,” Mallory growled, grabbing his wrist and pulling him to his feet.

He spun him around so his chest was against the wall, and hit him three more times across the back. Charlie clenched his jaw to avoid making a sound, but failed as a whimper slipped through on the third hit. He froze as he felt the leather wrap around his throat. Mallory hooked it through the buckle and pulled tight, pressing his body against Charlie’s back.

“You want this to stop?” He whispered in his ear.

Charlie nodded.

“Too bad.”

He pulled it tighter, and Charlie coughed as he began to choke. He raised his hands and tried to slip fingers inside of the belt to make room to breathe, to no avail. Mallory stepped back and yanked hard on the belt, causing Charlie to fall to the ground. Mallory let go and Charlie gasped for air as the belt loosened. It was short lived, though, as Mallory straddled his legs and gripped the belt again. He pulled tight, and Charlie gripped onto his arm, digging his nails in.

He plead with his eyes as he choked in whatever air he could. His mind raced for some way out. Mallory leaned in a bit closer, just in reach, and he took a chance. Charlie reached up and managed to get his hands behind his head. He pulled him into a kiss.

It worked. He eased his grip on the belt, and Charlie could breathe again. He kept his hold on him. The longer he could, the less time remained. Mallory let go of the belt completely and moved his hand up to Charlie’s face, putting his other hand on the ground to hold himself up.

Charlie did his best to dissociate himself from the moment, but Mallory’s movements prevented him from doing so. His hand left his face and traced down to his chest, where he rested it over his heart. Charlie finally broke away and turned his head to the side. Mallory roughly grabbed his chin and pulled him back, kissing him again.

“Stop,” Charlie mumbled.

Mallory took hold of the belt again and tugged on it. Charlie whimpered and reluctantly kissed him back. He dropped the belt. Charlie fought back tears as Mallory tangled his fingers in his hair. It seemed to last forever before Mallory finally pulled away. He got up and ordered Charlie to do the same. He was thrown against the wall, and Mallory slipped the belt from his neck.

“You’ve convinced me,” he said through his teeth, “but don’t expect that to work again.”

He put his belt back on before opening the door. Charlie followed him out and Rudy lowered his gun. Crow looked as though he was ready to rip Mallory apart, but just had enough self control to stop himself.

“Come on, Rudy,” Mallory said as he started up the stairs.

Charlie waited for the door to close before he fell to his knees. Crow rushed over to him and traced the red marks on his body.

“Are you okay?” He whispered.

The tears began to fall. Charlie clung to him, crying into his shirt. Crow pulled him close and rubbed his back.

“Shh, you’re safe now. I’ve got you.”

#easton’s unnamed story #oc #whump oc #whump story #whump #whumpee #whumper #intimate whumper #noncon kissing tw #noncon touching tw #if anyone wants to draw that one part Uh... lmk

[misskikuwrites]

Recall

Bederia Week 2021: Day 5 - First ‘I love you’

Bede/Gloria (dressedinpinkshipping)

Tags: fluff, angst, mutual pining

Words: 4,031

@bede-x-gloria

-

It was a welcoming, albeit surprising, sight to see Gloria saunter into the Fairy Gym, as if nothing had happened between her and Bede. As if they hadn't kissed not once, but twice, in the past few days. Bede collected himself and straightened. He tried to hide his disappointment that the kisses they'd shared hadn't left a lasting impression on her. His heart flopped heavily in his chest. As she approached, he decided to greet Gloria as per usual.

 "Please tell me you haven't gotten yourself into more trouble so soon," Bede said, teasing her with the faintest of smiles on his face. "Need I remind you of the many favours I've already done for you this year?" 

 Gloria huffed, rolling her eyes dramatically. "What, I can't come visit you for no reason?" She stared him down for a moment, her reaction - or lack thereof - towards him giving Bede pause. 

 Perhaps nothing had changed between them after all. 

 "Fine, if you're so busy-" she whirled on her heels "-I'll go find someone else to bother."

 Bede bit back a smile. He could tell she was pouting, her cheeks puffed, by the sound of her voice. 

 "Hold on, I never said I was busy," he said quickly, making Gloria stop before she'd reached the automatic doors. She peeked over her shoulder at him, unconvinced. The fake hurt on her face, her expression an absolute put-on, made him want to laugh. He swallowed the mirth that bubbled in his chest, forcing down his grin. Arceus, she was adorable when she didn't get her way. It made him want to tease her more. 

 "In fact," Bede continued, thinking on the spot for a reason to make her stay, "I might just call in one of the favours you owe me." 

 Gloria slowly turned back to face him. Her brow furrowed slightly. "What sort of favour?" 

 "If you're willing to put yourself to good use, then come with me," Bede said, beckoning her to follow as he headed backstage. Gentle footfalls trailed behind him, the clasps of Gloria's bag jangling as she shifted its weight on her back, and Bede couldn't help but smirk at how she'd followed him without question. He led her into a room usually used for storage, the back wall crammed with overstuffed boxes, and gestured for her to take a seat at the table. 

 Gloria swept her gaze around the room in mute awe. Costume racks and half-painted backdrops lined the walls. The table in the centre of the room was covered with stationary and an array of books - notebooks, workbooks and dictionaries - and Gloria paused, craning her head to read one of them as she passed. She frowned in confusion, and glanced at Bede. 

 "What language is this?" she asked, sliding into a chair and depositing her bag on the floor.  

Bede shut the door behind him and took a seat opposite her. "Kalosian," he said. He slid a notebook towards himself, the pages filled with his cursive script. 

 Gloria blinked at him. "I can't speak Kalosian." 

 "I assumed as much." Bede acted as though he was paying little attention to her, flipping open a dictionary with his right hand to thumb through the pages. He found the entry he was after, and held the page open with his fingers as he jotted down the translation in his workbook. Next to it, he detailed the correct pronunciation.

 She watched him for a moment, confused, before grabbing one of the other books that were on the table, one that translated common Kalosian phrases. As her eyes trailed over the words, her brow furrowed more and more. Her lips twisted in thought. Lips that, a few days ago, Bede had felt against his own. He stole his gaze away quickly before she could notice that he was staring, before heat could rise up his neck and pool across his cheeks. He needed to focus. She'd only let him kiss her because he'd agreed that it wouldn't change anything between them, and he would uphold that, even as he desperately wished to kiss her again. 

 Damn it. Bede swallowed thickly, his mind vividly replaying that moment, from the sweet blush on Gloria's face as she closed her eyes, to how silken her hair had felt between his fingers, and the intoxicating sound that she'd made when he'd finally pulled away. That sound haunted him. A soft moan, felt against his lips as they'd parted, echoed in his mind as clearly as it had that day. He wondered what it would be like for her to say his name like that- 

 "Bede?" 

 Bede jolted, snapping the pencil in his hand. She gaped at him, at the wooden fragments between his fingers, in shock. Bede cleared his throat, tossing the broken pencil in the wastebasket beside him. 

 "Yes?" he answered her gruffly, his skin prickling as if all his nerves had come to life at once. So much for nothing changing between them- he couldn't get that kiss out of his mind, especially not with Gloria right in front of him. 

 "Uh…" Still a bit stunned, it took a moment for her to speak again. "What was the favour you wanted me here for?" 

 Right. The reason - the excuse - that he'd come up with in order to extend her visit for a while longer. 

 "I require someone to test my skills in Kalosian," he said. "That book you're holding details common phrases- as simple as it is to work through them myself, I need more of a challenge if I'm to achieve competency in Kalosian." 

 "Why Kalosian? Do you need it for a play or something?" 

 "If it was for a play, I'd be learning a script, not common phrases," Bede pointed out. "Kalos is our closest neighbour, and where the Fairy type was first discovered. That alone is enough of a reason to learn their language. I've also been advised that some of our most ardent fans are from Kalos- the kind of fans who may, perhaps, choose to sponsor us if we make a good enough impression the next time they visit." 

 Gloria nodded slowly. "How am I supposed to test you if I don't know the correct meaning, though? I don't think I can pronounce any of these!" 

 Bede resisted the urge to huff. She had a point. "I wouldn't be asking you to test me if I was so unsure of myself. All you need to do is point at a phrase, and I'll translate it. The answers are at the bottom, although I doubt I'll need them." 

 "So… you just want me to pick phrases for you to translate?" 

 "For now, yes." 

 It was a flimsy excuse. Bede could study Kalosian well enough on his own, and Gloria would be more distracting than helpful, but with the confusing moments they'd shared over the past few weeks, he longed to spend more time with her- especially if it meant getting closer to unravelling the conundrum that was Gloria. 

 "It'll be easier to point out phrases if I'm sitting next to you," she said, getting out of her seat before Bede could protest. He stiffened as she sat in the chair beside him, close enough that their arms almost brushed. For someone who had struggled to meet his eyes after they'd kissed, she had no issue with sitting so close to him days after the fact. Had she truly moved on so quickly? She glanced over at him and there it was- the infinitesimal widening of her eyes as she realised just how close they were sitting. Bede's heart lifted. Maybe he still had a chance.

 Maybe, just maybe, he could win Gloria over one day. 

 -

 Gloria almost turned to stone the second her eyes landed on Bede's. She'd jumped into the seat beside him without thinking, and was instantly taken back to that moment a few days ago, that moment where they'd sat side by side like this, where Bede's fingers had caressed her cheek. All she'd seen in the reflection of his violet eyes was herself, the cage around her heart falling away for the brief moment he'd kissed her. A jolt of warmth shot through her veins at the memory. 

 Don't think about that now! Gloria snapped at herself, tearing her eyes away from Bede's shapely lips, knowing very well how it had felt to have them meld against her own. Her lungs fluttered, leaving her to take a sharp breath, and she jabbed her finger at a sentence in Kalosian. 

 "What- What does this mean?" she asked. 

 Her heart pounded, and as Bede leant over to get a better look at the words she was pointing at, she shoved the book closer to him. His shoulder brushed hers, that slight contact bringing to the full force of her attention how it felt to have him so close. She felt dizzy and giddy at the same time. Unable to hear Bede's response despite the fact that he was close enough to be speaking into her ear. 

 As much as she'd pleaded with Bede to not let their kiss change anything between them, her heart had other ideas. The night after he'd kissed her, she hadn't slept at all. Whenever she had closed her eyes, the moment by the lake had come back to her. Now, every time she pursed her lips or chewed on a pen, she recalled the warmth of his lips. Every time she tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear, she recalled the sweep of his fingers through her hair, the way his touch had sent a gentle shiver through her body. It made her delirious. Breathless. And her eyes kept trailing to his lips whenever he spoke. It was maddening. Frustrating. Her feelings towards Bede had only grown since he'd kissed her, even though they hadn't seen each other after that until today.

 Gloria cleared her throat as subtly as she could, her mouth going dry, and she pointed to another phrase. 

"This one?" she asked. 

 "That means, 'can you help me?'" Bede replied. "Pouvez-vous m’aider," he read aloud.

 Gloria had no clue whether that was correct or not, as she rested her arm across the answers at the bottom of the page, but she nodded anyway. 

 "This one?" 

 "'Comment vous appelez-vous' means 'what is your name?'" Bede answered. 

 Gloria pointed to a different phrase. "And this one?" 

 "What's the time?" 

 "This one?" 

 "How are you?" 

 "This one?" 

 "I love you." 

 Gloria froze. Her mind stumbled, mouth hanging open as the words she was about to say got caught on her tongue. Heat blazed across her cheeks. 

 "That's- That's what it says," Bede said hastily. "'Je t'aime' means 'I love you.'" 

 "Right! Of course." Her voice came out as a squeak. "Th-That makes sense." 

 Nothing made sense to her now. 

 Bede cleared his throat. "Let's try some harder phrases," he suggested, reaching over to turn to the later pages of the book. Gloria yanked her hands to her sides, sitting as far back in her chair as she could, as Bede inevitably got closer to her as he flicked through the pages. A sweet smell reached her nose, making her draw in a deeper breath. 

 "You smell nice," Gloria said without thinking. 

 Bede stilled, looking at her in surprise. 

 "I, uh, assume it's you," Gloria added quickly. "There's a sweet smell in the air, I just noticed it." 

 Bede turned back to the book, having reached a page full of sentences for him to translate into Kalosian. Gloria leant forward to cover the answers with her arm again, still tasting that delicate scent on her tongue. It filled her lungs with every breath. 

 "That would be the perfume from our sponsors that you're smelling," Bede said. "We had a meeting with them earlier where they showcased their latest blends." 

 "It smells really nice," Gloria said, sighing faintly to herself. "Too bad perfume's exceedingly expensive. Even with my Champion's salary, I don't think I could justify buying it." 

 "If you like it so much, you can have the sample I was given," Bede said, "in exchange for your assistance today." 

 Gloria perked up. "Wait, really? Are you sure?" 

 The satisfied grin on Bede's face made her heart flutter. "That is, of course, if you don't mind smelling like me."  

She gaped at him for a second, feeling herself flush. "Why- Why would I mind?" 

 "No reason," he said with a shrug. "Although, people might begin to talk if you go around smelling like me." 

 "Talk about what?"  

"About what exactly the Champion of Galar was doing with Ballonlea's Gym Leader in order for his perfume to get all over her." 

 Gloria sucked in a sharp breath as Bede's insinuation hit her in the chest. The smirk on his face set her nerves alight, her mind already conjuring images fueled by their kiss a few days ago. Bede's close proximity to her now did nothing to help.  

"They- They wouldn't think that!" Gloria protested. 

 "Are you sure about that?" He turned to face her completely, amusement gleaming in his eyes. "All anyone saw was you following me into this storage room. We've been in here a while already, and there is a lock on the door if, perhaps, the occupants wanted some privacy…" 

 Gloria shot a glance towards the door. Her heart wedged in her throat, blood roaring through her veins. 

 "After all, we've already kissed twice-" 

 She slapped her hands across Bede's mouth before he could say anything more. His shock quickly turned to annoyance, and he took hold of her wrists to pull her hands away. 

 "Don't- Don't mention that…!" Gloria hissed, glaring at him as her cheeks burned. She fought his attempts to tug her hands off his mouth. "You need to forget that ever happened!" 

 Despite Bede's obvious displeasure at being silenced, he raised an eyebrow at her as if to say her demand was ridiculous. She knew it was, but couldn't bear to have Bede mention what happened between them out loud. The mere thought of their kiss was dangerous enough by itself. 

Bede's expression changed, shifting from irritation to one she couldn't read, and in the next moment, he tugged Gloria towards him by her wrists. Pulled from her chair, she ended up practically on Bede's lap, one of her knees wedged between his thighs, and her bark of protest died in her throat at the feeling of Bede pressing his lips to the inside of her wrist. His lips were soft yet firm. Sweet warmth scorched her skin, making her pulse spike beneath his kiss, and he held her gaze, looking deep into her eyes over the top of her wrist.

 An incoherent noise fled Gloria's lungs. "Wh-Wh-What are you-?!" She broke off into a squeak as Bede grazed his teeth over her pulse. She jolted away from him, tearing her arms free, and fell backwards over her chair to crash to the floor. She scrambled to sit up, holding her wrist protectively to her chest. Ignoring the pain thrumming from her shoulders, her back, and her legs from her fall. 

 "Sorry," Bede said, shifting the chair she'd toppled over to the side. His smile carried no amusement, eyes softening with regret, and he offered her his hand. "I didn't realise you'd react so strongly. I was merely trying to prevent you from silencing me so forcefully again. It's not exactly polite to smother someone's mouth when they're speaking." 

 "It-It's not polite to k-kiss someone's wrist either!" Gloria squawked at him. She glanced suspiciously between his hand and his face, trying to read his expression. 

 "I assure you I won't kiss you again," Bede said. A hint of a smile played on his lips, and she went to accept his hand. "Unless you want me to, that is." 

 Before Gloria could tug her hand back, Bede pulled her to her feet, and she ended up standing right in front of him. Barely a breath remained between them. 

 "I-I don't," Gloria said in a voice that didn't sound like her- like a whisper, breathless and light. 

 Bede looked into her eyes for a moment longer. "That's a shame," he said, before returning to his seat. The teasing lilt of his voice sent her heart racing again, and she huffed, as though incredulous. As though a part of her didn't want him to kiss her again.  

A part of her that was getting smaller and smaller every day. 

 "Are you alright, by the way?" he asked as she sat beside him. "That was a pretty impressive fall." 

 Gloria gave a sheepish laugh. She still felt flustered from the way he'd kissed her wrist- her stacking it was inconsequential.

 "That was nothing," she said. "I'll be fine." 

 Bede glanced at her. The amusement that had played in his eyes had all but faded. "I see." 

 "What?"  

He looked away. "It's nothing." A moment later, he said, "you don't need to stay any longer. I believe I can manage the rest by myself." 

 Gloria's heart plopped into her stomach. It felt like he'd knocked the wind out of her chest.  

"Are you sure? Don't you want me to test you…?" 

 Bede flipped open the dictionary again, a pen in his left hand, returning to the notebook he'd written in earlier. A few empty seconds ticked by. 

 "It will be better for me to study in silence," Bede said finally. 

 Gloria stood. She stepped around him as her throat tightened, and snatched her bag off the floor. 

 "Right." Heat built behind her eyes. She forced it down, forced her walls back in place. Forced a layer of cold steel around her heart. 

 Bede didn't look at her. 

 "I'll… just go, then," she said, unable to hide the hardness of her voice, and marched for the door. Gloria didn't look back once as the world blurred around her beneath a wave of tears. 

 Once again, Gloria fled from the Fairy Gym as she began to cry. Once again, her mind raced with thoughts. Why had Bede suddenly pushed her away like that? What had she done wrong? 

 Why did it hurt so much? 

 She knew why. It was love. The one thing she despised, the one thing she feared above all else. It opened her heart up to injuries she'd never faced before. The slightest rebuff from Bede left her wounded, as though his words, him merely turning away from her, had cut into her flesh. 

 She was pathetic. Weak. Vulnerable.

 That was what love did to a person. 

 And she hated it. She hated being in love with Bede. It spoiled their friendship, tarnished each and every interaction they had. Even her memories were tainted now, coated in a different light, permanently changed. It twisted everything Bede said. 

 Despite the joy being in love brought her, Gloria wished she could tear out her heart and throw it away, before she did something she regretted. 

 Before it was too late.  

Gloria marched through Ballonlea until she was out of sight by the entrance to the Glimwood Tangle, and reached into her bag. She dug out her Corviknight's Pokeball, ready to flee. Someone caught her wrist. She turned instinctively, tears spilling from her eyes before she could blink them away. Bede stood before her, breathless, his hand around the wrist that held her Pokeball. The Galarian cuff he wore around his wrist brushed against her skin. The bracelet she'd given him. 

 "What-?" She gaped at Bede in shock. He frowned at her, lips twisting in frustration, as he caught his breath. 

 "You're crying," he said. Confused. Concerned. A myriad of emotions flashed behind his eyes.

 Gloria swiped the tears off her cheeks with her free hand. "So?" she huffed. 

 "I'm-" Bede started, fumbling over his words. He took a breath. "That's because of me, isn't it?" 

 Gloria said nothing. Her chest, her lungs, her heart, burned with a fire of indignation. 

 His expression fell. Her silence gave him the answer he was looking for, and he let her wrist drop. Gloria held tight to her Pokeball, but didn't send her Corviknight out. Not yet. 

 She hadn't expected him to follow her. 

 "You're not alright, are you?" Bede asked. He exhaled softly, casting his gaze aside. "Look, I… didn't mean to hurt you. I went too far. I'm sorry." 

 Gloria sniffled. Her tears began to fade, and she let herself study Bede for a moment. The regret in his eyes looked sincere, despite him getting the reason why she was crying wrong. She was so surprised by the whole situation, she didn't know how to reply. He hadn't realised how brushing her aside was what had wounded her, not him teasing her by kissing her wrist, not her falling backwards over her chair. The ache in her heart thrummed over her bruised muscles. 

"Here," Bede said, holding out a small crystal bottle in his hand. It was shaped like a pair of delicate wings, a matching stopper at the top. 

 Gloria pocketed her Corviknight's Pokeball so she could accept it, and stared at the bottle in awe before realising what it was. "Is this the perfume…?" 

 "You said you liked the way it smelled, so…" Bede shrugged. "Take it as an apology. For hurting you." 

 Gloria's mouth dropped open with a protest she couldn't voice, her heart squeezing tight. Instead, she cradled the bottle close to her heart. 

 "Thank you," she said softly. "I accept your apology." 

 Bede nodded stiffly, still not facing her. The hurt, the regret, reflected in his eyes made her act on impulse, drawn by the desire to soften the pain he was feeling, and she stepped close to him, rising up on her toes. 

 And Bede turned to face her in that very second. 

 Gloria shot back with a squeak, almost dropping the perfume bottle as she slapped her hands over her mouth. Her lips tingled and burned. 

 "I-I didn't mean to-!" she stammered. 

 Bede stared at her in absolute shock, his eyes going wide, before he looked away hurriedly. He coughed into his hand and flushed to the tips of his ears. It had only been for a split second, but their lips had definitely met. Again. 

 "Of course. I know you didn't," Bede said, his voice cracking as he spoke. 

 Gloria stared at her feet as she blushed darkly, feeling her whole body burn with a dizzying heat. "I-I was going to kiss your cheek," she explained. "As- As a thank you. For the perfume…" 

 And she'd ended up kissing him on the lips instead. 

 "I-I see." Bede looked just as embarrassed as she felt. 

 "Please, can we… pretend this never happened…?" she asked, knowing it wasn't so simple. She wouldn't be able to forget this kiss, as accidental and brief as it was. 

 "Of course." He nodded quickly. "It was an accident, after all." 

 "Y-Yeah."  

An accident that she couldn't wholy regret. Something stirred inside her, a longing to do that again, to kiss him properly this time, and she stamped it out quickly. As nice as it was to kiss Bede, they were friends. He didn't like her in that way. 

 Although… he had been the one to offer to kiss her the other day… 

 Gloria shook that thought away. She wanted to quash her feelings for Bede, not fuel them! 

 "I… I should get going," Gloria said. 

 "Not on your own Corviknight, I hope." Bede raised an eyebrow at her, and she looked away sheepishly. "Let me call you a Taxi." 

 "Thanks." She gave him a sheepish, but grateful, smile. As Bede ordered a Sky Taxi, the pain in Gloria's heart settled. Standing next to him, enjoying his presence, didn't feel so bad. She didn't mind passing the time with him, even if it meant doing something as mundane as waiting for a Sky Taxi together. 

 Her impatience faded. The softening of her heart felt so natural, she couldn't place when it was she had begun to feel like this towards him. When, exactly, she had fallen in love with him. 

 Perhaps untangling and discarding her feelings towards Bede would be more difficult than she'd thought. 

#bederia week 2021 #bederia #dressedinpinkshipping #bede #gloria #btyu

[dangerouscommiesubversive]

Hi! I’d like to request #17, with Philip and Chase (and bonus Shoutarou with another Drive character, if you like). I just have this need for Philip to interact with all my favorite characters, and your W crossovers are delightful. ^_^

17. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Really, Shoutaro thinks, it shows a lot of restraint from Philip that he managed to wait a full week after discovering that Roidmudes were back in the world before he insisted on meeting one. Not that he’s unrestrained, of course. In fact, he’s gotten a lot better over the years about not overwhelming people with his academic enthusiasm. But there’s academic enthusiasm, and then there’s his increasing interest in the various unusual friends their junior Riders have picked up. He’d been practically vibrating with excitement since he first heard that Dr. Sawagami had run successful preliminary trials in her project to bring back the Roidmudes.

Of course, Philip could ask to speak with one or more Roidmudes all he liked, it had taken some time to arrange it. They’d had to talk to Terui, and he’d called Drive, and Drive had spoken to the four now-living Roidmudes, and then it had still taken two more months after that before anything could be scheduled just due to the tremendous problems Drive’s friends were having getting the Roidmudes legal status.

Now, though, the day's come, and Philip is enthusiastically shaking the hand of a man so color-coordinated that he could put Terui to shame and saying, "It's a absolute pleasure to meet you, Mr. Chase, thank you for coming, I appreciate it. Would you like coffee? I don’t know if you eat.”

Chase stares at him for only a very brief moment before saying, “Thank you, I do not drink coffee.”

Next to Chase--towering over him, in fact over all of them--is a man in a red coat with a thoughtful look on his face, and Shoutaro has to think for a moment before he recalls the last few messages he’d gotten. “And you’re...Heart, right? I’m Hidari Shoutaro, and this is Philip.”

Philip blinks. “This isn’t Mach? I thought Shijima Gou would be accompanying Chase to Fuuto. Shoutaro, I’m sorry, did I forget to introduce you?”

“It’s all right, partner, you were pretty excited. No, you remember the email, Gou was tied up with something last-minute.”

“By which he means he forgot that Professor Harley was going to be in Japan and expecting to see him.” Heart smiles, although he’s watching Philip with something that might be suspicion. “So I volunteered to come along, I’m always interested in making new friends.”

Chase glances at him. “You are overprotective.”

Heart makes a hm noise that doesn’t sound entirely like disagreement.

“Heart, Heart...” Philip’s eyes light up. “Yes, you’re also a Roidmude! Terui had said you weren’t interested in being interviewed, I don’t suppose you’ve had a change of heart? Forgive me, that wasn’t intended to be a play on words.”

Heart wavers for a moment, and Shoutaro can’t quite figure out whether it’s due to shyness or actual discomfort, so it’s probably fortunate that Chase is the one who answers. “Heart is not comfortable with discussing the past.”

“Ah. Yes, I entirely understand. Would you like coffee?”

“Now who’s overprotective?” But Heart relaxes visibly. “Yes, coffee would be wonderful, thank you.”

--

"Terui Ryuu said you and the other Roidmudes were having difficulties with your legal status, do you mind if I ask what they were? I know there are existing procedures for establishing the legal identities of non-humans, it's been done for two Bugsters in Seito. Well, three. Two and a half? Dr. Kujou is a complication."

Philip, Chase finds, is refreshingly blunt. He doesn't talk around issues the way many humans do, he cuts directly to the point, and moreover he seems pleased when Chase does the same. "There was an attempt to declare the Roidmudes property of the Japanese government."

"Oh.” Philip blinks several times, rapidly. “That's offensive, I imagine you all objected strenuously."

"Yes." Chase takes a sip of his tea. "And then once it was conclusively determined that we were people, there was the question of criminal charges."

"Really? Against you?"

"Against all of us. Heart, primarily. Brain and Medic were considered accomplices."

"I imagine your being a Kamen Rider helped with your case?"

"To an extent. I am not considered a threat. As it stands, we are no longer capable of causing gravity surges or otherwise wielding serious destructive force, and are under intermittent observation. The current legal debate centers around whether a Roidmude can be considered to have experienced mental duress."

“Hm. Really? Compelling. I wouldn’t think that was a debate at all.”

Chase considers this carefully before replying. “Why would you say that?”

“If Roidmudes are people, which they certainly are, then they can of course experience mental duress, or indeed any form of psychological distress.” Philip stares into space, hands wrapped around his coffee cup. “Unfortunately I’ve found that one of the hallmarks of personhood is a capacity for acute suffering. A being self-aware enough to love must also be self-aware enough to fear losing that which they love, and that fear can naturally be leaned upon by the unethical to coerce.” More staring into space. “Or simply to terrorize. It’s even more unfortunate when one realizes that unethical people of that type will likely always exist.”

“I...had not considered this previously.” Chase frowns, slowly. He’s experiencing an unfamiliar emotion--not that there are many emotions truly familiar to him, but this one contains elements of both surprise and happiness, and he is not clear on how one might express it.

He likes Philip, he realizes. He would like to be friends with Philip. Perhaps this is how Heart feels all the time.

“If this is the case, then in your determination, do Roidmudes have souls? I am not clear on what a soul is meant to be, but it has been the subject of discussion.”

Philip actually laughs. “The nature of the soul is one of the few topics on which I’m not the man to ask, for that you might want to talk to Ghost. In fact, I’m sure he’d be happy to discuss it with you. But in my limited experience with the subject--yes, I would think that Roidmudes have souls.” He takes a long drink of coffee. “Please excuse me if this is an indelicate question, I’ve been trying not to ask these things so abruptly lately, but my research indicated that Roidmudes have a more robotic base form onto which your human guises are layered, may I see it?”

--

They’re at the Windscale boutique getting Heart a suit.

They’d been discussing the Agency, and Heart mentioned having been a detective very briefly and seemed interested in the work, and this had led very naturally to talking about the boss, and from there to what Shoutaro had learned from him. Including, crucially, manner of dress, a topic that Heart seems fascinated by.

“I’d thought you could just sort of...shapeshift your clothing,” Shoutaro says. “At least, Bugsters do that, and Philip had mentioned that you do something similar.”

“Well, I can.” Heart plucks at the furred cuff of his coat. “But Tomari Kiriko’s suggested that I might adjust better to living among humans if I try to pick up some of their habits, little ones, and I like clothing.” A smile flashes across his face. “Mostly I’ve been borrowing things from Tomari Shinnosuke. He’s indicated that he’d like me to stop, though, because apparently he’s tired of having to come find me if he’s missing something he wants.”

“That’s Drive and his wife, right? We’ve never actually properly met, it’s sort of an oversight on Philip’s and my part.” Shoutaro frowns. “Do you live with him?”

Another flash of smile. “For the moment, yes. I was...revived...several months before the other Roidmudes, and they offered to let me stay with them. Mostly I watch Eiji for them and help Kiriko with housework. I’m learning how to cook. Brain and Medic are staying with other friends of Tomari Shinnosuke’s until the authorities can stop arguing about us and let us find a place of our own.”

“Well...” Shoutaro squints up at him for a moment, trying not to resent the man for being taller than him. “What kind of clothing do you like? I’m not exactly an expert on men’s fashion, but I like to think I know a little bit about it.”

This time it’s not a flash, the smile stays as Heart says, “Well, I have to say, the suits that Tomari Shinnosuke and his colleagues wear aren’t very interesting, but I do like your outfit quite a lot, it’s very sharp.”

So now Heart is trying on hats, and the Windscale salesgirls are losing their minds over how handsome he is. Normally Shoutaro would be a little jealous, they’re so used to him at this point that nothing about him is interesting to them, but he can’t quite bring himself to be. Not when Heart looks so pleased to be doing such an ordinary thing. Anyway, he’s letting Shoutaro pick everything out, and it’s so rare for someone else to be this trusting of Shoutaro’s fashion sense.

He also looks very good in a three-piece suit. But then, Shoutaro thinks, straightening his waistcoat, doesn’t everyone?

“What do you think of this one, my friend?”

Shoutaro looks at the latest hat Heart’s picked out and says, after a moment’s thought, “I think you look like a real man.”

Heart pauses. “Is that a good thing in this context?”

“Yes. The best thing I can think of, really. I mean, not that it’s bad to be a woman, but--listen, what I mean is, you look good, it suits you. Do you, uh, do you like to read at all?”

“Yes, sometimes, why?”

“We’re going to a bookstore after this, there are a couple of authors I think you’d enjoy.”

--

“Thank you for allowing me to examine you,” Philip says, when Chase shifts back into the human form that he’s finding more and more preferable to Proto-Zero’s, “it’s been a tremendous help to me. It’s--the many varieties of personhood that exist within the modern world are terribly compelling, but so few people are willing to speak about it at any length. Which I understand, but it does make study difficult.”

Chase nods. “I understand.” Beat. “You say personhood, but not humanity?”

“They’re hardly synonymous. Like circles and ovals. Every human is a person, but not every person is human. I haven’t always fit the precise definition of human myself.” Philip’s hand stills in the middle of a furious bout of note-taking, his face taking on a faraway look that Chase is learning to recognize. “What was death like for you? If you don’t mind my asking. Personally, I find the memory very difficult to grasp. Like a dream. I know that it happened, but when I reach for it, it slips out of my fingers.”

“It was...” It takes some time to find the way to phrase the answer. “Silent. And then when it ceased to be silent, it was because I was alive again.”

Philip nods, and takes more notes, and says, “Thank you for sharing that, I appreciate it. It’s...most people I know have never died. It’s difficult to explain to them.” The notebook snaps shut suddenly, Philip’s pen slides into its spiral binding right before it’s set aside. “Now. Is there anything I can do to help you?”

Chase blinks, slowly, several times, before replying. “How do you mean?”

“You. And your fellow Roidmudes. This is not an easy world to live in, especially when one’s personhood is treated as a subject for debate instead of a given. I would like--I hope that you’ll consider me a friend. I would like you to be my friend. And as a friend I would like to offer you and the other Roidmudes whatever help I can in establishing yourselves as people deserving of independent lives.” Philip grins at him. “At the very least I’m wonderful at winning debates.”

--

When Philip and Chase emerge from the garage, the first thing they see is Heart sitting in one of the front room chairs with an elderly gray cat asleep on his legs, and a much younger marmalade cat draped around his neck like an ungainly scarf. His red coat is nowhere in sight; he is, instead, wearing a black three-piece suit, a vividly red shirt, and a burgundy necktie with a heart-shaped pin in it. He's also engrossed in a book in English, although when they enter the room he glances up and says, cheerfully, "Hello."

"Good afternoon, Mr. Heart, I see Shoutaro's actually succeeded in his quest to get someone else to like Windscale as much as he does, you look very good. Are you enjoying Raymond Chandler? Shoutaro, is that Mrs. Mizuishi's kitten on our friend's shoulders? Where was he this time? Mrs. Mizuishi is a bit absent-minded," Philip says to Chase, "Chobi frequently wanders off when she's looking elsewhere."

"Yes, she called when we were on our way back from the bookstore." Shoutaro's sitting at the desk, in the middle of typing what looks like a list. "He'd only gotten up a tree, Heart helped me get him down. Mrs. Mizuishi’s coming to pick him up soon."

"And I see he has Mick's approval as well."

The gray cat opens one eye and gives Philip an unamused look, as if to say, “Yeah? What are you going to do about it?” only to begin purring when Heart absently reaches down to scratch his ears.

Chase sits down next to Heart while Philip goes over to speak to Shoutaro and is immediately investigated by the orange cat, who sniffs at his ear briefly and then gets up and hops from Heart’s shoulders to his. “What are you reading?”

“A collection of detective stories. Hidari Shoutaro gave it to me. He’s making me a list of movies that I might enjoy, I think I like detectives.” Heart leans slightly so that his arm brushes Chase’s. “It’s nice to have made a new friend. I hope the questioning wasn’t too intrusive?”

After a moment’s consideration, Chase says, “No. It was an enjoyable conversation.” He reaches up offer the orange cat his hand to smell. “I think it would be safe to say that Philip is a friend as well.”

Heart breaks into a smile. “That’s wonderful! I’m very glad to hear it.”

“However, I think we are expected to return to the city shortly.”

“Right, yes, I suppose we are.”

Over at the desk, Shoutaro pulls the paper out of his typewriter, blows on it to make sure that the ink is dry, and then folds it up and tucks it into an envelope. “Here, Heart, I’ve got that list for you. And my email address is at the bottom, please let me know which one you like best, you have no idea how long it’s taken me to find someone else who’d want to watch any of this stuff. I mean, Philip watches them with me, but other than that.”

Philip laughs quietly. “I do enjoy them, partner, I’m just not as passionate about them as you are.”

Heart carefully moves Mick onto the coffee table and stands up, reaching for a black hat with a red band that Chase hadn’t previously noticed hanging off the back of his chair. Chase, similarly, has to untangle himself from the orange cat, which objects strenuously to being moved and then promptly falls asleep in his chair as soon as he’s on his feet.

“I hope you’ll visit again,” Philip says as they’re shaking hands, “for non-research purposes, of course.”

Chase nods. “I would like that.”

Next to him, Heart tucks the envelope from Shoutaro into his suit jacket and says, “Maybe we can bring Brain along next time, I think they’d get along.”

They head out the door as a group, Shoutaro saying, “You’re going to email me, right, I need to know whether you like Spade or Marlowe better.”

“Of course, although I can tell you right now that just from the reading I’ve already done I like Marlowe quite a lot.”

One more round of handshakes as they all stand next to Chase’s motorcycle, and the last thing Philip says to Chase is, “Thank you again, so much. It was a pleasure to meet you. It’s wonderful to have new friends.”

Chase nods, says, “Likewise,” and resolves to visit again as soon as it’s feasible.

#philip #chase roidmude #hidari shoutaro #heart roidmude #fanfiction #toku-fangirl-2015

[glowingbadger]

You may have a little Lorenz Prompt as promised. As a treat. Here goes~

Lorenz taking thorough notes to surprise his s/o (is it the blog owner? the reader? some random character? It doesn't matter~!) with the most lovely, romantic date imaginable based around everything they like. He wouldn't put in this much effort to TRULY impress someone, but you're worth every step and more.

Enjoy where this takes your thoughts~!

(and pls don't eat it, Tumblr)

Y'know what, I've had a shitty day and I just finished writing some darker content- so I am going to ~indulge~. Normally I try to make my Reader character as broadly relatable as possible, but today we're going with MY preferences and interests because I WANT A NICE DATE WITH LORENZ GODDAMNIT

Lorenz (FE3H) x GN Reader - perfect date

Fluff - SFW

Today simply has to be flawless- the Gloucester heir will not accept any less. Not when it comes to you. Of course, Lorenz holds himself to high standards in all things, but the thought of providing anything less than perfection for you is one that pains him to even consider. Especially now that he'd finally gotten the courage- or, rather, found the right and proper time to ask you to spend the day with him.

You approach him at the Monastery gates not long after noon that day, and find your pace slowing as you eye him before he's noticed you. Without his usual elegant set of armor, you can appreciate the way constant marching and training has toned his slender frame- and appreciate it, you most certainly do. Though he soon turns to face you, and your eyes dart back up from a rather ignoble place to meet his instead.

"You're as radiant as ever, I see," he says with a warm smile. He offers you an arm and you take it, replying with a grin,

"You've already got me for the day, Lorenz, there's no need for flattery."

"'Flattery' implies a measure of falsehood," he says with confidence, leading you towards town, "and I could never bring myself to lie to one so lovely."

As your time together proceeds, you can't help but feel that, some way, somehow, Lorenz has some kind of psychic insight into your preferences. Everywhere you turn, whatever your heart could desire is immediately available and set before you with hardly any negotiation at play. At the first flower stall you find, Lorenz takes a moment to exchange words with the owner while you admire the sprawling array of colorful blooms; and by the time he's returned, he's holding a woven crown of delicate little white flowers. With an admiring smile, he carefully places it on your head, a hand trailing down a lock of your hair as he pulls away to observe you.

With a shy grin, you perform an exaggerated curtsy, prompting Lorenz to laugh fondly and take you by the hand. He twirls you slowly under his arm, watching you all the while, then says,

"They suit you every bit as wonderfully as I'd thought."

"They're my favorites," you reply.

"I know- erm, that is- I know of a superb bakery down the block this way," Lorenz seems a bit red in the face, but you chalk that up to nerves.

He's not wrong though- this bakery is something else. The selection and quality of ingredients is on an entirely new level compared to the Monastery's dining hall, and you find yourself overwhelmed even reading down the list of items posted to the wall. By your third pass over the full range of options, the words are starting to dance in your eyes- but a warm touch at your arm shakes your focus. Lorenz leans close to be heard over the rapidly growing crowd at the bakery's counter,

"Might I make a recommendation?" you nod, and he goes on, "I happen to have it on good authority that there's an item not included on this menu that you may like. It incorporates three different treatments of Brigid cocoa, if that is of any interest to you."

Your eyes light up and you can practically feel the rich sweetness across your tongue already.

"That sounds incredible," you reply, enraptured by the very thought. When you start to ask how he'd heard of such a thing, Lorenz has already turned to speak to the worker taking orders, and your words drown among the crowd of customers. The speed at which he acquires this mythical pastry only fills your mind with more questions. How did he manage to purchase an off-menu item so quickly? Wouldn't the cost of something requiring those many luxurious imported ingredients be astronomical?

But then, Lorenz returns to your side and guides you out of the crowded shop, and the sight of the delectable chocolatey treat in his hands dashes all other thoughts from your mind. He hands it to you wrapped in a handkerchief, and you can't help but immediately plunge in for a bite.

"Mmmm-!" you wear an expression of pure bliss as your mouth fills with sweet, savory chocolate, "Oh- Lorenz, it's so good!"

When you glance up at him, he's watching you with a strangely heavy expression. Once more, his fair complexion is painted a light red. You tilt your head curiously, and he seems to resurface from whatever thoughts had taken him for the moment.

"Here- you should try some," you break off a piece and hold it up to him.

"Are- are you certain? I had intended for you to enjoy it to your heart's content," he stammers out, evidently still a bit flushed.

"I want you to get to have some too. Please?" You hate to resort to puppy eyes with him, but it's hard to argue with the results. He leans forward and accepts the piece of pastry from your hand. You don't shy away from him in the slightest, and so a brief brush of his lower lip along the tip of your finger simply can't be avoided. Lorenz does his best to move past this without acknowledgement, and you two enjoy your treat together as you take in the bustle of the town around you.

The day continues in kind, with Lorenz apparently having painstakingly arranged every element of this date from start to finish. At a local seller of antiques and luxury goods, he secures permission to view and explore rare and dazzling paintings from around the world. Here, he's rather uncharacteristically reserved. Wandering the storage area like your own personal art museum, he watches you with evident warmth as you exclaim at the rich and varied pigments, the innovative expressions of human form, and so on.

After this, he brings you to a tavern at the far end of town, where he's reserved the second floor exclusively for you two to enjoy a quiet, intimate meal together. By this point, you've finally gotten around to considering just how much gold must have gone into this singular date.

"Lorenz," you say cautiously, "are you sure it's okay to go through all of this and spend so much just for-"

He raises a hand to cut you off, then replies,

"I assure you that it is," he takes your hand in his, holding it warmly from across your private table, "wealth has no value that we ourselves do not assign to it, and I have chosen to spend it on your pleasure. I can think of no greater use for a bit of coin."

The rest of the early evening is filled with pleasant chat and the occasional subtle sweet-talk. As you discuss everything you've seen and experienced that day, Lorenz engages you with surprisingly astute comments and observations. He's always at his best when he feels permitted to simply talk with you, as one person to another, free of the pressures and expectations of his birthright that he shoulders without a thought.

The sun is steadily lowering behind the hills and walls of the surrounding town by the time you make your way back together. As you walk hand in hand watching the Monastery gates rise ahead of you, Lorenz clears his throat abruptly and says,

"If I may steal you away for just a little while longer, there was... actually someone I thought you'd like to meet."

"Oh? What an honor," you say with a smile, "Do I get any hints?"

Lorenz gives a good-natured chuckle and says,

"Only that I think you'll get along splendidly."

And of all places throughout Garreg Mach's grounds, you begin to recognize that he is leading you towards the stables. You've met Lorenz's horse before- a lovely mare with a calm and agreeable temperment. If not her, then...

"Eloise?" Lorenz calls out in a gentle voice, "Eloise, come say hello- Ellie? Come now, don't tell me you've chosen tonight to become bashful..." at his call, a svelte black cat with delicate little white paws comes trotting out to meet you. Your heart positively aches and melts at the sight of her eagerly approaching Lorenz with clear comfort and familiarity.

"Lorenz, you... have a cat?" You say with obvious disbelief.

"She's one of the Monastery's strays, to be clear," he says, "She helps with the mice in the stables. Evidently, she had become quite fond of my preferred horse- and so eventually became fond of me as well."

Fond seems an understatement- she very clearly adores him. With a chorus of happy little mews, she circles his legs and rubs against him until he crouches down to offer her his hand. As he does, a shred of parchment flutters from his pocket onto the ground. Eloise targets it like a seasoned warrior and pounces at it with gusto. With a laugh, you kneel down to retrieve whatever this paper she's captured might be.

"Now Eloise, none of that- you must behave genteel-like with guests."

As he firmly lectures the cat, you glance at the paper in your hand. Nearly every inch of it is covered in an elegant, curling script that you imagine must belong to Lorenz. It looks like a... list of some kind. As your eyes scan down the page, you begin to recognize a pattern. Your favorite flowers, favorite desserts, favorite types of books and places around town- plus, to the side, the word "cats?" underlined several times. For a moment, you simply cover your mouth to hold in a snort of laughter. Then, you come to kneel beside Lorenz as he's failing to convince his feline friend to stop swatting at his hair.

"So- you've been taking very thorough notes lately." you say, nudging his arm playfully. He turns to face you with an immediate look of panic. Lavender eyes widen and glance down to the parchment in your hand, then back to you. He visibly deflates and says,

"Goddess- you must find me such a fool-"

You press your lips firmly to his before he can say another word. With a soft noise of surprise, his eyes flutter shut and he leans into your kiss. His lips are wonderfully soft, and the subtle scent of his cologne surrounds your senses as you tilt your head to seal your lips to his more firmly. You're not certain how long you remain like this, but only the dull ache of kneeling on the dirt and the incessant sound of Eloise bapping her paw against the paper in your hand bring you back to your surroundings. When you part from him, you brush aside the silky curtain of his hair to run your hand along his face, and say,

"I had a wonderful time today, Lorenz- and it means the world to me that you put so much thought into this. But next time, you don't have to study so hard, okay?"

For a moment, he seems speechless. Then, he gives a shy chuckle.

"You have bested me yet again, it would seem. How can I ever hope to become a man worthy of you when you are ever more lovely with each passing day?"

Eloise gives an insistent chirp and rubs once more against his leg, evidently tired of distractions from the attention she feels she's owed. Your smile widens, and you scratch her ear fondly.

"I think there's at least two of us who like you just as you are, Lorenz."

#no one's gonna read this why is it so long #fe3h #feh #lorenz hellman gloucester #lorenz x reader #fire emblem #fire emblem x reader #fire emblem imagines #fire emblem fic #fluff #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem fluff

[annakie]

Patchy

A little under two years ago I made this post, a chronicle of Patchy, the outside feral, turned inside kitty who took ten years to learn to love being petted.

Today we got some bad news.

TW for pet illness under the cut.

Patchy’s always been a bit of a puker, usually oh, say, once a month or so she’d have a good puke for no reason.  I’ve had other cats that are pukers so it’s not that surprising.

In the late winter/early spring I started to notice more frequent pukes.

I’d decided around that time that I needed to find healthier food for my cats, with Leela, the oldest turning 16, Fry turning 11, Pemily turning 7 and Patchy turning, I don’t know, 12 or 13.  No way to really know.  They already got decent food, but I did my research and had started looking at Blue Buffalo, American Journey and Dave’s canned food. 

Patchy had been on a mostly canned food diet since she went to the vet back in early 2020 and had a bunch of teeth pulled.  Also, as a note, Patchy’s brief flirtation with hanging out in the rest of the house ended after like a month.  She and Fry fought too much, and eventually he claimed the rest of the house is his.  He also still thinks the master bedroom should be his, but, Patchy defends that territory well if anyone else encroaches. (The door just stays closed most of the time.)  I really wish they could have all gotten along, I loved having Patchy out, but both Fry and Patchy agreed it wasn’t going to work.

The food she’d been on was pretty junk-food-ish though, which she did love and eat. But I wanted everyone on more or less the same diet and the highest quality food I could readily get them.  So I bought a lot of cans of different kinds of food, and kept a list of which ones seemed to be hits and misses. (I still have a dozen cans of the kind nobody liked -- Blue Buffalo Wilderness Salmon -- I’ve been meaning to take to the city shelter).

Around halfway into this experiment I noticed Patchy puking more, so I decided to try to stick with her favorite kinds, which, I thought was helping.

But once I was fully vaccinated this year, it was time to get all the pets to the vet.  I noticed Patchy had still lost some weight, I thought it was due to switching around her food too much earlier, and tried to stick with the things I felt she really liked.

Then, of course, Leela got sick, spent two and a half days in the pet ER and almost died back in April, and then it was like... yeah we’re done being afraid of COVID, we’re done waiting.  It’s time to get them all their checkups.

My regular vet was doing COVID restrictions so no pet owners inside the clinic back then, so they took Patchy (and the others) in without me.  I thought Patchy had lost some weight, but Dr. B. sounded alarmed when he called me with how much lost she’d lost in the last year, about five pounds.  He wanted to do some bloodwork for Patchy, and I said of course go for it.  

He called back, sounding much calmer and was like “her bloodwork couldn’t be more perfect.  Let’s try switching up her food, get her on some sensitive stomach food and let’s see how she’s doing in a couple weeks.”

So two weeks later it did seem like she was doing better, I called Dr. B back and he said to bring her back in a month.

It was my plan to take her back next week when I had some PTO coming.  I admit, later than planned... my last couple of months have been mucn more focused on Leela... who, thankfully, continues to thrive.  But feeling like my time with her is running out, she’s been my main area of concern.

The last few days though, Patchy has really not been eating well.  Sometimes she does OK, sometimes nothing at all.  And then puking every day.  I swapped her back even to a few cans of the Junk Food (Whiskas) I still had laying around.  She’d eat it... and then puke it up.  And also she... stopped sleeping with me.  I thought... well, it’s summer.  It’s probably too hot to cuddle.  But she stopped laying on the bed.  She stopped coming up for pets when I come to bed and hang out for awhile specifically to spend time with her and pet her.  She runs under the bed again when I come into the room.  It’s like we regressed to three or four years ago... just two weeks after our two year anniversary of getting to pet her.

So this afternoon we went to the vet.  Getting her into the carrier sucked.  I tried nice methods, then I had to scare her into the closet by running the vacuum, and then pretty roughly grab her.  I have scratches and a pretty deep bite on my thumb which either maybe hit a nerve or is infected, may have to go to the doctor for it tomorrow. (Yes, washed it thoroughly with soap as soon as I could.)  I also hated betraying her trust that badly, but it’s for her own good.  But it was rough.

Dr B. wasn’t working so I saw one of the other vets.  I liked him. Also COVID restrictions are gone so I got to go inside. But after talking to him for a few minutes, going over her history and what changes I’ve made, he spent a long time rubbing her intestines (Patchy was perfectly behaved, at least.)   Then he looked concerned.  Then he said let’s do an ultrasound.

A few minutes he came back in and showed me her scans. 

Lymphoma.

I was a bit stunned for a second so I missed a bit of the technical speak he said next, but it came down to the best thing we could do is give her some medicine that may buy her more time.  It doesn’t sound like Chemo or Operating is even really an option.  I’m going to call back tomorrow and see if Dr. B or the vet I talked to can talk me through it a little better now that I’ve had a chance to digest.

If I can get Patchy to take the medicine, and if she responds well to it... she may have 3 - 6 months left.

If she won’t take it, or if she doesn’t respond, it’s at this point, a matter of her comfort and quality of life.  So... weeks.  And I’m worried about getting her to take the medicine, especially since she won’t even come let me pet her and we just had a huge trust betrayal today. I don’t know if I could take her spending her last few weeks hating me, especially if the medicine doesn’t work.

The vet also told me that... I didn’t do anything wrong.  And we did the right thing six or so weeks ago by changing her food and seeing if a few other things worked. Especially with how good her blookwork looked.  He barely felt the cancer today, he said six weeks ago Dr. B wouldn’t have been able to feel it at all.  And for this particular type of lymphoma... there’s not a lot to be done, anyway.  That made me feel better, at least.

(As a really dumb side note, after I got her home, I sat down to eat dinner and watch an episode of Star Trek to take my mind off of all of this since I’d been crying since I found out, paid my bill, and drove home, stopping at a drive through so I didn’t have the mental load of cooking.  And I’m in the middle of my rewatch of Enterprise.  I bet any trekkies reading this can guess what episode was next in my rewatch because yep I’m in season two and A NIGHT IN SICKBAY started playing, of course, so obviously I NOPED THE FUCK OUT OF THAT EPISODE.  For the non-Trekkies.... the Captain has a dog on board, an adorable beagle, Porthos.  The dog gets sick and almost dies and spends his night in Sickbay.  He does pull through.  But the ONE episode centered around a beloved pet getting sick and almost dying... and that’s the episode that fate decreed I was supposed to watch tonight. I did not.  I don’t know if I can watch it anytime soon.)

So now for the next few weeks I will spend my time being grateful that Leela is alive and thriving and pray she keeps doing so -- I will continue to give her extra love and care and attention, and also I will need to do the same for Patchy.  I can’t even do it at the same time because Patchy will not come out here, and will not allow Leela in her room. 

I am low-key freaking out that there’s the possibility of the nightmare scenario happening to me again.  In winter 2016, after months of being sick, I woke up on Christmas morning and my 16-year-old cat Jim had died overnight.  It was terrible, and traumatic, and I had to deal with everything all alone because anyone who could support me was... well, it was Christmas morning and my family was all out of town, too.  Posting about it on Tumblr... actually really helped me, since it’s the only place I felt like I could talk about it.

That Christmas was on a Sunday.

Wednesday morning I woke up to hearing my dog, Cebu, moaning in pain.   I rushed him to the vet, but whatever happened overnight, it was too late, maybe there wasn’t anything we ever could have done even if I’d been awake when the puking started.  The vet said the kindest thing we could do was put him to sleep.  And we did.

Also I just, JUST now realized that the vet who helped put Cebu to sleep was the same vet who I saw today about Patchy.

But I lost two of my pets within 3 days of each other.  I was very lucky that my job let us have the week between Christmas and New Years off that year.  I had a few days to pull myself together, and I needed it.  It took months to recover totally, though.  Every once in awhile I think about that week and I still cry, though.  I miss them both so much and they both had deaths that were less than ideal.

I remember thinking then “I have like, five years of reprive.  Leela will be sixteen in five years, and that’s when I have to start to worry again, when I have to be ready to say goodbye again.”

I thought then that even after that I’d have two or three years until Patchy would leave me, and two or three years past that until Fry.  And then five more years with Pemily.

Right now I’m realizing that I will likely lose Patchy, very best case in six months, but possibly before July is over.

I need Leela to keep thriving.  I don’t know how I would handle losing another two so close together again.

Patchy is... she’s the one who chose me.  I chose my other cats.  Fry and Pemily I plucked from the backyard when they were tiny kittens and brought them inside.  They didn’t have a choice.  Leela I adopted from a rescue, she didn’t have a choice.  Patchy chose to stay.  She chose to stick around when she realized I’d feed her.  It took years but she learned to trust, she chose to come inside when it was cold, when it was hot, when it was storming, and when she was pregnant.  She chose me to help raise the last litter of kittens she’d ever had.  (My entire Rescue Kitties tag is full of adventures in finding, raising and usually adopting out strays. Lots and lots of posts about Patchy and her final litter.  Been awhile since I’ve done it, though.)

I used to joke that Patchy was my roommate, not a pet.  She ate, drank, did her business, and kept to herself for a long time.  Don’t get me wrong, she was a very good, quiet, considerate roommate and I loved her.  But it wasn’t until that wonderful day she let me pet her that I felt like she was my pet. 

I loved having her just hanging out living in the house since 2014, but the last two years especially have brought me such joy.  I’ve tried to never take Patchy’s trust in me for granted.  It was EARNED.  Every small step forward was a milestone to be celebrated. I worked for every bit of trust and love Patchy has given me, and have been rewarded.  And it was worth it.  Every minute.  Every long, patient year.

Even now I’m telling myself... without me, she would have died years ago.  Probably violently, or starved, maybe frozen to death.  Getting to die of cancer brought on by older age is not something that most feral cats ever get to do.  Getting to become an inside kitty where she’s loved, and comfortable for the second half of her life was something remarkable, brought on by her wiles and will to survive for so many years, bolstered by the food I left out for her.  She’s had this much time, this much life, this much comfort and love that she would have never had otherwise, and that’s something to be happy about.

I’ve watched dozens of ferals come and go through my neighborhood throughout the years.  I feed them, I work on seeing if I can get them to trust me enough to let me TNR them, but even those that I have, I don’t keep seeing for much longer.  There’s one right now, I jokingly call him Patchy’s Boyfriend.  He still won’t trust me and never has fallen for the trap when I’ve tried.  But he’s there most nights when I feed him around 11.  He’s getting terribly thin despite the quality food I leave out.  I’ll miss him.

But none of them were Patchy.  None of them became what she is to me. None of them survived long enough to adapt and decide to live another life.

Also?  I wouldn’t have Pemily without her.  Pemily is literally Patchy’s Granddaughter and that is one more thing I love Patchy for.

I feel guilty sometimes, both because I don’t spend nearly enough waking hours with her I feel, but I have three others who need me, as well. One who’s time is growing short, as well.  And they don’t get to sleep with me, she does.  What a joy it was all winter when I would wake up and she’d be sleeping on my chest.  I’d get a bit annoyed when she’d sleep with her backside to my face and her tail would tickle my face and wake me up.  I’m a side-sleeper half the night and she hated that it was harder to get comfortable on me that way.  She still doesn’t want to have my hand just stay on her, she wants pets and skirtches, no long-form touching.  That’s ok.  I sleep better with her weight on me.

I don’t know what the next few weeks or months will hold, but at least pet-wise, it’s going to be rough.  I’m going to wrap this up and give these three out here a good pet, then go hope Patchy comes and asks for love, too.  Tomorrow is one more day with all four of them, and for that, I’ll be grateful, for every remaining day.

#personal post tag thingy #my pets #pet illness tw #pet death tw

[ohdearhiddles]

REQUEST: Hi I love you're writing and I was wondering if you could maybe write a Tom Hiddleston x best friend Female reader goes to see her after a rubbish date he had and he asks her why she doesn't date, and she says something like "What's the point, I get close to someone and they soon get bored of me and leave, so why bother putting myself through it over and over again, everyone always ends up leaving me and I'll be alone again" and Tom tells her he'd never leave. Thank you❤

TITLE: You Will Always Have Me

WORD COUNT: 1366

AUTHOR NOTES/WARNINGS: no warnings here; hello lovely anon! i apologize that it’s so short, but i hope you enjoy it anyway! i’m so happy that you’ve enjoyed my writing, thank you so much for the request, my dear! :) x (AO3 Link)

It was a typical day, or at least that was what you told yourself. Quite frankly, you couldn’t be entirely certain on what a typical day was, but you figured that this was as typical as it got. You had gotten up in a regular fashion, done some cleaning, finished up some work, and then sat on your couch to catch up on the latest shows.

Pretty typical.

It was dark by the time you had pulled yourself up from the couch to try to make something of a meal for yourself. The TV continued to play in the background as you made your way to the kitchen, sorting through the pantry for any semblance of a decent meal. When you finally found something that satisfied your cravings, you got to work.

The food took almost no time at all to prepare, and soon you found yourself sitting back on the couch, munching on your meal quietly. Time passed relatively slow for the next hour or so, and you found yourself not really paying attention to what was on the TV. It’s not as though it was boring, but you just simply couldn’t focus.

Beside you, your phone lit up in the darkened room. You didn’t bat an eyelash at the sight of Tom’s name as it flashed across the screen. This was normal, and if you remembered correctly, he was supposed to be on a date at this very moment. So, the fact that he was calling you instead, didn’t really give you a good sign on how the date was going. Either that or he had proposed right on the spot. Whichever it was, you were certain to hear about it one way or another. You picked up the phone, sliding your thumb across the screen as you answered the call.

“Hello?” You said, pulling your feet up onto the couch, preparing yourself for anything he had to say. “Tom?”

Nobody responded, and you figured it must have been a butt dial. Made sense. Maybe. Hanging up, you put the phone back down. Within a fraction of a second, though, Tom’s name lit up the screen again.

“Yes?” You dragged out the word as you waited for him to respond.

“Sorry,” he rushed out. “I lost reception for a second, can you open your door?”

“Beg your pardon?” You asked, confused now as to why he was asking you to do such a thing. Of course, it obviously meant that he was there, but you wanted to know why he was there to begin with. “Aren’t you supposed to be, I don’t know, out?”

“Yes,” he sighed. “We called it quits early.”

Standing up, you kept your cell phone nestled against your ear. “What do you mean you called it quits early? Who ends a date early?” You opened the door, and before you could even properly greet him, Tom was entering your home.

“I do,” he said, sliding his shoes off before walking into your living room. He plopped himself onto the couch as you ended the call from the main hall. You approached him slowly, watching as he leaned his head back against the cushions and ran his hands over his face. Upon seeing his tired expression, you walked into your kitchen, grabbing a glass and the whiskey that you kept on hand for these types of situations.

You made your way back into the adjacent room and sat beside Tom, holding out the glass for him to take. He mumbled a quick ‘Thank you’ before taking a sip.

“Care to explain?” You asked, reaching over his lap for the remote. After muting the TV, you raised your brow at him, indicating that you wanted an explanation.

“She was nice,” he said.

“Okay, so what’s the problem?”

“Everything else was the problem. She was on her phone half the time, and she only ever asked about my work.” He sighed, looking more upset about the fact that he was complaining than the fact that his date was a complete bust.

You nodded slowly, realizing that this was the epitome of everything Tom did not want to see on a date. He was the type to turn off his phone for hours at a time, and not only that, but he made it a point not to bring his job into conversation. He loved what he did, and he knew that there were people who were genuinely curious. However, he was not a fan of a date that felt like an interview.

“I thought it was going to go really well,” he sighed again, taking another sip from the glass you had given him. “It’s quite disappointing.”

“I’m sorry it didn’t go as planned,” you said, leaning back as you watched him set the glass on the coffee table.

There was a brief moment of silence between the two of you before Tom spoke up again. He turned himself to you completely as he spoke, “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” you replied.

“You listen to my stories about dating, but I never hear about yours.” He pointed out, but he didn’t bother waiting for you to comment on it. “I know it’s because you don’t really date.”

You hummed in response, averting your eyes from his gaze as you did so. “Why don’t you?” He asked. “You’re an attractive woman, you’re kind, and you’re more attentive than half the people I know. You have amazing qualities, yet I’ve never actually seen you go on a proper date with someone.”

It was your turn to sigh this time. This night was supposed to be about him, you thought. Of all the questions he had to ask, he just had to go and ask something like this.

“Honestly?” You questioned, finally meeting his watchful gaze.

“Well, honesty is preferred,” he responded. His counter remark was most likely meant to lighten the weight of the question.

“I don’t see the point,” the words flowed easily enough as you said them. Even with the ease that came with the response, you could feel the air around you grow tense. “I get close to someone, and soon enough they’re already bored of me and leaving me behind. Why should I bother putting myself through that time after time? The outcome’s the same. Everyone always ends up leaving me in the end. I’ll just be alone again.” You shrugged it off as you finished the explanation, but Tom’s expression only seemed to grow more intense.

The two of you sat in peaceful silence, allowing the words to fully sink in before either of you even attempted to follow up such a heavy response. Tom reached for his drink, but his hand faltered. He fell back against the couch, turning to look at you.

“You know I’ll never leave you right?” He asked, his expression much more serious than you had expected it to be.

You opened your mouth to speak, but he held his hand up. If anyone else had done such a gesture, it may have seemed rude, but for Tom, it was his way of cutting you off without verbally doing so.

“No, wait, listen,” he leaned forward, grabbing your hand. “You’re my closest friend, and you have been there for me on countless occasions. Whatever you need, whenever you need it, I am here. Even if you think the entire world is against you, and even if it seems like you’re alone, I promise you — no, I swear to you, that I will never leave you like that.”

Your hands were growing clammy as you processed his words. Holding back the urge to let yourself cry, you smiled. You brought your other hand to rest on top of his, patting it lightly in reassurance.

“I know, Tom,” you said quietly.

The truth was you hadn’t known. You expected everyone to leave you, and this man was no exception to that. But sitting there and having him speak so sincerely with the most earnest look in his eyes, you couldn’t find a reason not to believe him.

“I know,” you repeated more for yourself than for him, and you felt him squeeze your hand.

“Good.”

#tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston imagines #requested by anon #request #just friends imagine #female reader #tom hiddleston x female reader

[expensiveglasses]

Charming Chapter 5

Summary: Prince Jungkook was as infuriating as he was beautiful. In line to one day be king, he requested your guidance in the ways of his people. In turn he will make you laugh, give your family fine gifts, and become an invaluable friend. Unfortunately, he will also make you fall in love with him. But the most unfortunate thing of all was his betrothal…to Snow White

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Fantasy, Angst, Snow white/au

Rating: NC-17

Word Count: 6253

Warnings: Brief mention of the evil queen wanting Snow’s heart. Future warnings are TW: Major character “death” TW: Thoughts of suicide TW: Attempted suicide. Nothing is graphically described. Chapters will be noted when these things take place. 

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** Jungkook’s P.O.V **

“Your highness.”

The sun had risen only an hour before. The prince was expected at breakfast in 30 minutes but the fresh air from outside the castle walls was too alluring a prospect. 

Jungkook turned from his place on the balcony to survey the servant behind him. “His majesty the king wishes to have a conference with you.”

“Is he here now?” Jungkook asked, adjusting the sleeve of his tunic.

“Yes, your highness.”

“Very well.” Said Jungkook, nodding and moving towards the entrance of his balcony as the servant opened the door to his bedroom, allowing the king in before he exited himself. 

Jungkook watched as his father moved about his room, running his fingers across old tapestries as he walked. “I remember when you were a boy, before your mother died, when we first gave you this room. You immediately broke the fine washing basin your mother and I had acquired for you from Duchy of Savoy on one of our trips.”

“I remember.” Jungkook smiled, fingers sliding across the stone railing at his side. “Mother was extremely cross with me, but when I began to cry, she forgave me.”

“Always a gentle woman.” The king replied with a soft smile. He moved towards where Jungkook still stood at the balcony. “Had she still been alive, she would have known what to do with you, how to raise you far better than I knew how. She was very creative, always had ideas.”

“I think I’ve turned out OK.” The prince replied softly and the king nodded, sighing. His fingers tapped absently across the sheep’s skin draped over one of Jungkook’s chairs. 

“I believe so, though not due to my own merits. That school taught you everything I failed to.” The king bemoaned. “I just didn’t know what to do with you. I failed you as a child but I would like to think I’ve grown better since then.”

“I believe we both have.” Jungkook said. 

The king nodded, fastening his hands behind his back. “You have been decidedly absent since you returned.” He paused at Jungkook’s look of surprise, “You thought I wouldn’t notice? Where have you been?”

Of course his father would notice his absence; he was meant to be training alongside him. There was only so much a person could disappear before being missed. Shame colored the prince’s cheeks as he gripped the balustrade railing tighter. 

“I’ve been taking walks. To clear my head.” He said carefully. The king seemed unconvinced so he pressed on. “It’s a lot of pressure, there is so much to remember. I’ve just been trying to take it all in.”

“In peasant clothing?”

Jungkook paused, clearing his throat. Someone saw him. Why was he surprised? “I felt it would be better to blend in. I’ve been wanting to get to know the village and the people. I want to be an effective leader, father, and I believe that requires me to know the people’s problems.”

The king paused a moment, hands still tucked behind his back as he crossed the room to look out the window. Jungkook leaned against the balcony railing.

 “Do you think me an ineffective leader?” He inquired.

Jungkook’s eyes widened and he shook his head, standing straight. “No, of course not! That was not what I meant to insinuate. Only that I have new ideas and thought that knowing the people better would help me in that course.”

“And you felt it best to dress as a pauper and wander the streets of the village in order to do so?” The king asked, turning to survey his son. 

Jungkook floundered for words. “I was unaware that, that was considered an evil.”

“Only when you lie.” The king frowned, eyes narrowing. “You continue to do so now. I had to find out from servants that you were leaving the castle dressed like one of them when you were meant to be studying and now, I come to find out you’ve been seen with a girl that is not your betrothed, and a commoner no less. Who is she?”

The prince flushed, turning away from the king to look over the kingdom. “No one you need to concern yourself with, father.”

The king spluttered angrily, “what has gotten into you? Clearly, I have failed you again. I thought you were ready to come home. Perhaps I’ve given you too much freedom.”

Jungkook sighed, “Father, please. I’m just asking you to not worry about that girl. She’s a friend.”

“I don’t care who she is; you will do your duty, Jungkook. To your country and to your king.”

“I don’t understand what my duty has to do with whom I choose to marry or spend my time with, father. Why can I not choose this for myself, so long as I fulfill my promises to my kingdom?”

“You said she was just a friend.” The king frowned.

“I’m speaking in hypotheticals.” Jungkook replied flippantly, turning to look back out over the balcony.

“You already know your answer; it is the way of things. Stop testing my patience.” The king sighed, rubbing his forehead before beckoning Jungkook to sit down. The prince moved slowly to take a seat on the end of his bed and his father folded his hands behind his back once more. “You are my only son, my only heir. I am concerned for the future of this kingdom. After your mother passed, I’ve had to shoulder the burden of not only the kingdom, but raising you to be the type of man that our people deserve. I’m not going to be disappointed, am I?”

Jungkook frowned. He knew his father’s tricks and they weren’t fair, but he understood them. He knew he wanted Jungkook to be happy but his duty to the kingdom had to be paramount and a princess for a wife was what made the most sense to him.

“No, you won’t.” Jungkook replied softly.

“Good. I expect you to learn to be the king this kingdom needs. Know your place in this world, my son. I’ll see you at breakfast.” He left in a hurry, cloak billowing behind him. . . **Y/N’s p.o.v**

Midsummer had arrived and had left you dirty and hot by the time you’d finished your chores. Stepping inside your home, you moved to the water basin by your bedroom, grabbing the cloth inside and scrubbing at your face. You had just enough time to make your way to the river before the sun began to set and you intended to make good use of that light.

You rushed from the house and into the forest. The rivers basin started high in the mountains, but not far from the house was a water fall that met a lake and funneled into the river that fed your village. Sometimes, on days like today, you would wash there.

It was quiet and most importantly, it was private. The sound of the waterfall greeted you as you stepped into the clearing and you moved towards a moss-covered rock, removing your boots and quickly stripping down.

The sun was setting fast and though the dwarf’s cottage was nearby, you didn’t fancy trying to find your way in the dark. You scrubbed yourself quickly, shivering from the chill of the water. The sun had warmed it on its descent into the forest, but it was still Alpen water and made your skin prickle uncomfortably.

After quickly redressing, you made your way to the cottage to find Snow inside cutting potatoes for a stew. “Good evening,” you greeted, stepping into the cottage, warmed by the fire in the kitchen hearth. “The dwarfs are not home yet?”

“Hello!” Snow beamed, beckoning you closer. “They’ve not arrived yet, which is good. We’ve got time to get dinner prepared. I cannot even imagine how they ate before we arrived to help.”

You smiled, moving to grab the ingredients Snow had set aside for bread. “Certainly not as well as now, though Bashful does make some very fine meals.”

A knock at the door roused your attention and you moved towards it, pushing open to find the face of the prince. He seemed tired and distracted but he greeted you both with a smile and a soft hello.

“Good evening, Jungkook.” You smiled, closing the door behind him as he entered. “I was not sure you would make it today. I was just starting with the bread now; would you like to help?”

He nodded, moving to the table where you’d spread the ingredients and you began to prepare in silence. Snow distracted herself with cutting carrots, humming softly a tune that felt familiar and you watched as Jungkook focused on kneading the dough you’d given to him.

“You seem out of spirits, this evening.” You commented softly.

Jungkook’s head bounced up as though surprised by the sound of your voice. You raised an eyebrow at him and he nodded, flushing and returning to his task. “I apologize. I just have some things on my mind.”

“Anything I can help with?” You asked carefully.

He looked back up at you, features softening into a smile. “I thank you, but no. Unfortunately, it is something that must plague my mind alone.” You nodded, allowing silence to overtake you once more. Usually, the prince was lively with conversation, coaxing you from your own shell. Today it seemed that the tables were turned.

“Are you well?” He inquired softly and you looked up at him, nodding.

“Yes, thank you. I spent most of the day helping my mother in the garden. There is still time before we can harvest anything, but it is fulfilling work.”

“What do you grow in your garden?”

“Usually we grow things like potatoes, beans, and onions. My mother makes a lot of pottage, although these days because of your generous gifts, we’ve been able to enjoy stews. Thank you again for your kindness, I hope you know it is very much appreciated.”

“It is nothing that you do not deserve.” He said softly, shaping the dough like you’d shown him and cutting diagonal lines across the top. You flushed warm at his words, shaking your head as you placed the two loaves on the bread peel and moving them towards the oven.

“Would you like help, Snow?” You inquired as you moved towards where she stood in the kitchen, stirring the stew gently.

It was fragrant now; the smell of garlic and rosemary wafting through the small cottage and you took a deep, steadying breath in. Growing up, you rarely had the pleasure of such smells and tastes. Meat was expensive and the animals you did keep were more valuable alive than dead. If a chicken died, it would be utilized, but otherwise bread and porridge was the staple of your diet.

The river had sometimes provided fish, but your kingdom was far from the sea and that was often not available to you either. The first time you’d tasted meat was a gift from the king to your father. 1 pound of venison had been provided to your family when you were only 9 years old. 

Your mother hadn’t known what to do with it, so she’d boiled it plain and you’d eaten it with a potato at its side. It was a moment you’d never forget, though. A small glimpse into the life of the other side. You couldn’t have imagined a finer meal than that at the time.

“The only thing I need is for you to sit and enjoy yourself. Now that the bread is baking, we just need to wait. I am very grateful for your help these last few days. The company of another woman is invaluable, I have found.” She moved to stand across from you at the counter. “I am often alone in this cottage, and when the dwarfs are here, they speak mainly of the mines, which I find myself ill equipped to add comment to.”

You chuckled, sitting in a chair by the table. “They do love conversation of the mines. Even when I was a child and my mother would bring me; that was often a topic of great interest for them. I wonder that they have not found anything else to discuss.”

“When Jungkook and I were children at Hallen des Efeus, we would often talk of the same sorts of things. Things that don’t bear repeating; like our first fight. Do you remember that, Jungkook?”

“Yes, of course.” Jungkook smiled.

“You were so cross with me.” Snow pouted over at him and he chuckled, rolling his eyes.

“You scolded me like a mother would her child!” He chided and she frowned, delicate hands moving to her hips.

“Well, you were behaving like a child, what was I to do?” Snow asked, the corner of her lips turning up with a smile.

“I was a child.” Jungkook insisted, pink dusting the apples of his cheeks.

“You were 13, that’s hardly a child.” Snow tutted, turning to look at you. “So, you see, a woman’s company is a lovely thing to have. Yours is especially nice, don’t you agree, Jungkook?”

The prince’s blush deepened and you could feel your own face heating with embarrassment. Snow smiled coyly at you before turning back to the fire, stirring the soup once more.

“Of course, you’re both invaluable friends to me.” He said softly.

Just then the dwarfs returned, boisterous in their greetings as they dropped hammers and pickaxes by the door. “You’ve come again!” Sneezy cried happily, coming to pat you on the shoulder.

“Of course.” You smiled, watching Dopey kick his shoes off sloppily at the mouth of the doorway.

“Don’t you ever tire of us?” Grumpy muttered, sitting down at the table and combing his fingers through his long grey beard.

“Never!” you insisted, coming to stand beside him. “Especially not of you, Grumpy.” He grumbled loudly for your benefit, but you could see the slight upturn of the corner of his mouth. “Will you all play for us tonight? Doc, I would love to hear you play the mandolin again!”

Doc smiled, patting at his stomach as he came to stand behind his own chair. “For you, dear, anything. I request a dance, though. Nothing is as lovely as song and dance together.”

Normally you loved to dance while they played, but with the prince as a witness you suddenly felt stricken. You opened your mouth to excuse yourself but before you could, Snow was clapping excitedly and you turned to look at her.

“Oh, please let us dance!” She cried happily, rushing over to you to take your hands in her own. “I’ve not danced in so long.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know any serious dancing, only the kind of my village.” You admitted. The thought of dancing alongside her was equally daunting, no doubt with years of instruction under her belt. You felt ill equipped to even try.

“Then you shall be my teacher! I would love to learn the dances of your village.”

You turned to search for Jungkook, as though a pleading look might save you, but he simply smiled his encouragement. “Very well.” You replied timidly, “but after dinner!”

Time marched quickly on, as it tends to do when one is nervous, and once all the dishes were left to soak in warm water, the dwarfs retreated to grab their instruments. Grumpy and Doc both returned with their mandolins, Sneezy with his fiddle, and Sleepy with his pipe. The rest of you cleared the table and chairs from the center of the room and prepared to dance.

“Teach us the dance first and we shall copy!” Snow smiled, ushering you into the center and you cleared your throat, fingers digging into the skirts of your dress.

“First, you extend your foot like this, then you do a small jump, spin and clap.” You said softly, demonstrating the moves slowly so that Snow and Jungkook could follow your lead. None of the moves were particularly difficult, though you were sure this style of dancing was foreign to them.

When the dwarfs began to play, you and Happy demonstrated the dance in full. The music was jolly, the room quickly filling with laughter and clapping as you danced, allowing the high-pitched trill of the fiddle to guide you through the room.

The dwarfs stomped their feet loudly on the floor as you twirled through the motions of the dance with a laugh, closing your eyes to feel the quick tempo-ed rhythm. Happy grabbed your hands, swinging you in a circle around the room and you let out a delighted squeal as your vision blurred.

There was nothing quite like the rush of a dance; it always left you feeling light and free. You glanced towards Snow and Jungkook as the song slowly came to a close, curtsying for effect before looking back up.

The intensity of the prince’s gaze left you breathless; dark eyes following your movement as Snow clapped happily, rushing to your side and you quickly tore your eyes away from him.

“That looked like such fun. Let’s try, Jungkook!” She called.

He nodded, moving into the center of the circle and the music began again as you taught your friends the dance more earnestly. Happy, Dopey, and Bashful all moved along with you, clapping loudly as the loud stomping of their boots enhanced the mood of the room.

By the time Snow and Jungkook had learned the dance, the prince finally had a smile on his face. So serious and gloomy all night, he now moved gleefully, dancing and clapping as the song was reaching its crescendo. Both Happy and Dopey created a tunnel with their arms, Bashful taking Snow by the hands and bouncing through along with the tempo.

They called for you to join and Jungkook instantly reached out, grabbing your hands in his own and bouncing towards the bridge of their arms. You were surprised by his enthusiasm, but pleased all the same. His hands were warm around yours, leaving you feeling warm and tingly.

When the time came to return home, the prince insisted on walking you. It was dark enough to require a torch, which Doc lit for you at the hearth before wishing you both a safe trip home.

The forest was alive with activity so late at night. Crickets chirping and the business of animals who slept during the day. You walked in silence for a period of time, until the forest began to thin at the entrance. “I’m so glad that you could come tonight. Dancing always helps me to forget about the cares of the world, at least for a moment.”

Jungkook smiled softly, holding the torch carefully in front of the two of you. “Thank you. I’m glad I could come as well. It was nice to spend time with you again; I’m not always sure if I’ll be able to return.”

The silence was heavy at his admission, but you took it as an opportunity to navigate carefully from the opening of the forest and out onto the dirt pathway. You stared up at the castle, darkness shrouding it in shadow. “I should really be walking you home.” You said, turning to look at him. “What is a peasant to a prince?”

“Nonsense.” Jungkook replied sharply. Your eyes flicked to his as his features softened. “You are just as worthy of protection as I am, Y/N. Perhaps more so. You are…you are very important to me.” He murmured, staring down at the road.

You felt like you’d been doused in flames at the admission, but he quickly cleared his throat, motioning with his hand to continue walking. He moved beside you as you walked along the dirt path towards your home. “My father scolded me today.” He admitted and you turned to look at him in surprise.

“For what?” You asked gently and he sighed, hand sliding into the pocket against his thigh after switching the torch to the other.

“A multitude of reasons. For being so absent recently, because he thinks I’m not taking my role as seriously as I should, because…because we’ve been seen together.” He finally said.

You felt like the air had been siphoned from your lungs. You’d been seen together? By whom and when? You’d been so careful recently; you couldn’t even imagine who in the kingdom would have seen you and recognized him.

“Jungkook, I’m so sorry!” You said, attempting to stop, but his hand placed gently at your elbow coaxed you into movement once more. “I had no idea anyone in the village had even recognized you.”

He smiled, ruefully, shaking his head. “I don’t know exactly who saw us, Y/N, but it was a servant in the castle. Again, I was an unpleasant child…not everyone likes me. I have much to repent of.”

“But you’ve changed!” You said heatedly. The idea of someone doing something so juvenile was astonishing. He had changed, you’d been witness to it over the last six weeks. You could no longer associate that young boy with the man now before you; they were completely different.

His fingers slipped away from your elbow, but not before leaving a soft trace against the skin of your forearm and your skin prickled with electricity.

 Maddening in his temptation, you looked away from him quickly as he swept dark hair from his eyes.

“Yes, I have changed, and I will prove that. Never fear. My father was unhappy, though. He insisted I start behaving like a king and insinuated that I not fraternize anymore.”

You’d reached the gate of your home where you paused; not wanting to rouse your parents before the prince could leave. You didn’t need anyone else to see him, especially not your father.

“So, then I suppose you mean to cut ties?” You questioned in a hushed voice. The thought of never being with him again left your chest aching, lungs burning in an effort to keep the emotion at bay.

“Only that we will have to be cleverer in our disguises.” The prince grinned and you looked up at him with a smile.

“Going against your father’s wishes? I supposed there is still some of that naughty little boy left in you.” You teased.

“As I said before, you are very important to me. I think the risk is worth it.” Once again you were left breathless, reeling from his declaration as he reached for your hand. Bringing this to his lips, he left a small kiss in the center as he gazed down at you, eyes dancing in the light of the torch. “Good night, Y/N. Sleep well.” . . The square had filled with life by the time you’d weaved your way towards the bakery. Your mother had sent you for bread, but it was also an opportunity to stop and talk to your friend.

Else stood by the front of the shop, batting her eyelashes prettily at customers and encouraging them to buy a loaf. She spotted you from across the square, smile slipping from her face, and she turned to enter the shop quickly.

You paused a moment to ponder the strange behavior before resuming your walk to the bakery. You made it to the window just in time to hear Else’s father scolding her and insisting she return outside. Else moved stiffly towards the door, frown etched onto her lips and nose upturned as she moved to stand away from you.

“Is something the matter?” you asked, watching as she pointedly ignored you and called to another villager passing by.

“Would you be interested in rolls, ma’am?” she called at the harried looking woman who was wrangling two small children by her sides, a basket on her arm and their little fingers digging into the pockets of her apron. “They’re just come out and are lovely and warm.”

“No thank you, dear. I’ve made bread myself this morning.”

They disappeared into the throng of people before you moved from beside the window to talk to your friend. “Are you upset with me?” You inquired.

Else huffed, gaze shifting away from you. “If you should have to ask, then I find myself disappointed.” She paused for a long moment while you thought. You could not come up with an instance recently in which you’d made her upset and you turned to tell her so just when she spoke once more. “Where have you been? I’ve not seen you in what feels like forever.”

Time spent divided between morning chores and the prince had occupied so much of your time that you’d not had enough to spare for Else or Peter. Peter felt less neglected, you supposed, since he worked daily with your father from the comforts of your home. Else, though, had not seen you since the night of the prince’s ball.

“I did not realize it had been so long.” You admitted, “I apologize that I’ve neglected you; I’ve been busy recently.”

“Doing what?” She sniffed, still keeping her eyes dutifully away from you as she beckoned more people into the bakery.

“Well, I’ve met with my friend Jungkook a few days this week.” You started and she turned to look at you incredulously.

“The man from the other village?” She asked and you nodded. “You said he’d returned home.”

“Ah.” You cleared your throat. You’d not remembered saying that, but now that she mentioned it, you weren’t quite sure what to offer in return. “I…said that more for Peter’s benefit.”

“Why?” She asked, eyebrows furrowed before suddenly becoming animated, turning her whole body to face yours in excitement. “Does Jungkook court you?”

“What?” You asked, eyes widening. “No, of course not.”

Else deflated, frown returning to her pretty face. “Then why spend time with him? Y/N, your future is all but spoken for with Peter, it would be a good living. Why threaten that by spending time with another man who does not court you?”

“Don’t worry about Jungkook.” You sighed, shaking your head. “I want to apologize for leaving you neglected; that was not my intention. I promise to spend more time with you. Tonight is the village celebration; will you be there?”

“Of course.” She replied with a nod, “I’m never one to turn down a party.”

“Then we shall spend the whole night together, I promise!”

She looked like she wanted to refuse you, stew in her frustration a little longer, but she sighed, nodding. “Very well.” She accepted begrudgingly.

“Can I buy some bread while I’m here?” You said and she smiled, leading you back to the window of the bakery. “My mother requires one loaf.”

“Well, I suppose if it’s for your mother.” Else mused. . . In the evening, once the sun had begun to set, you made your way with your father and mother towards the village center, carrying a pot with a stew your mother had made with some of the venison from the prince.

You could only imagine the shock of those who would try it. Most in the village had never had the opportunity to try this type of meat. Sometimes rabbit, but never venison.

The village was already lively with music and dancing, candles lit and circling the festivities. Peter’s family was nearby, Peter himself staring down at the food wistfully. Else was in the group dancing, stomping her feet loudly along with the fiddle and laughing as she spun in a circle with her mother.

Your mother took the pot from you, ushering you towards your friend and you rushed off, allowing Else to pull you into the dance. The musicians hollered loudly, feet pounding in quicker succession as the music picked up pace. Peter came to join the two of you, shouting along with the crowd as he moved.

Once you’d tired yourselves out, the three of you went to go sit with a bowl of your mothers stew. The nearby fountain had some space so you moved towards it, sitting along the stone, still warm from the sun.

“What is in this?” Else asked, eating happily and you looked over as she spooned some of the broth into her mouth.

“Potatoes, carrots, cabbage, garlic, rosemary, I think, and some venison. Those are the only things I know for sure. I had to come get the bread while my mother was preparing it.”

“Venison?” Else asked in surprise, nearly dropping her spoon into her bowl. “How did you come to get venison?”

“The prince sent it to our family.” You said softly, staring down into your bowl and using your spoon to cut into a potato. “I think as a thank you for preparing his clothing for the ball.”

“That’s very generous of him.” Peter commented lightly, but his expression was pinched and you weren’t quite sure if he really felt it was generous at all. “Does he send gifts often?”

You looked over at him, watching as he pushed his spoon through the stew, feigned disinterest masking his features. “Sometimes.” You shrugged, “not terribly often. He’s a prince after all, he has far more important things to do than send food to his tailor.”

“Does he send them to your father or to you?” Peter asked, looking up at you and you tried not to show your surprise.

“What business would the prince have sending me venison? I am neither the tailor nor the woman of the house.”

“You’re asking very strange questions, Peter.” Else said, dipping bread into the dregs of her soup.

Peter’s expression loosened, a small laugh erupting from his chest. “Yes, you’re right. I’m only teasing, of course.”

Only, he certainly looked like he was not teasing, despite the airy way in which he dismissed the topic. Else dominated the conversation for the next half hour, though your mind was distracted with unease. You’d been very careful not to be seen by your friends or the villagers with the prince over the last few weeks, though the majority of them didn’t know his face.

You wondered absently if Peter would talk to your father soon. His discomfort at the idea of the prince sending anything to you left you feeling somewhere between baffled and concerned. You didn’t feel ready to move forward with him yet…especially not now that you’d discovered your own blooming feelings for Jungkook.

Then again, no time was ideal in cases such as these.

“Alaric has spoken with my father.” Else said suddenly and your attention was quickly pulled back to the conversation.

“He has expressed his desire to court you?” You asked excitedly, placing your empty bowl beside you.

Else shook her head no and your shoulders sunk in dismay. “No, actually, he has asked for my father’s permission to have my hand. We are to be married in the morning.”

“What?!” You squawked loudly and Else shushed you with a blush across her cheeks.

“You’re so embarrassing.” She complained as both you and Peter leaned in closer to hear her. “Yes, you heard me correctly. He sought my hand in marriage and my father gave him permission. We are to be married in the morning.” She said it with all the air of someone who was shy at the admission but you could see the pleased look in her eyes, the small smile tucked in the corner of her mouth.

She looked happy. Though she’d never said it out loud, you knew she liked Alaric more than all the other young men in the village. He was kind, jolly, and hardworking. You couldn’t imagine a better man for your best friend.

“I’m very happy for you.” You smiled, reaching for her hand and squeezing. “We are invited, are we not?”

“Of course.” Else nodded, looking between both you and Peter. “If you’re not there I’ll be very cross with both of you.”

“You should have told me sooner; I could have made you a pretty dress!” Peter complained.

Else tutted, brushing dark strands of hair from her face. “With what fabric?”

Peter shrugged bashfully. “I would have found something.” He mumbled.

“Do you remember when we were children?” You asked suddenly, both of your friend’s eyes darting to look at you. “We would lay out in the fields during spring, picking daisies to make jewelry, and pretend we lived in a fairytale.”

“Yes, of course.” Else said, “Those are some of my favorite memories.”

“Do you ever wish you could go back?” You ventured on, staring up at the stars. They were bright this evening, slightly obstructed by the roofs of the buildings. The view from your family’s small garden was much more beautiful. The thought suddenly made you wish you were back there, laying in the sunbaked grass by the walls of your cottage.

“What has brought this on?” Peter questioned.

“Nothing in particular, I suppose I’m just feeling sentimental. Things were simpler when we were children. I miss that.”

The musicians started a new song, just as lively and happy as the others and it made you feel strange to be so melancholy at such an occasion.

“Of course, I miss it in ways.” Else admitted. “We had nothing to vex us but the occasional scolding from our parents. I was an ugly little thing, though. I don’t miss that at all.” Her nose wrinkled at the thought and you chuckled, rolling your eyes.  

“Be serious.” You chastised and she smiled.

“I am being serious. I was dreadfully plain and I love the attention being beautiful has brought me. Besides, I’m to be a married woman tomorrow, I feel nothing but happiness at the prospect. If I went back in time, I wouldn’t have that.”

“I suppose that is what makes me reminisce. Marriage is…it’s scary, don’t you think? I don’t feel ready.” You said it softly with eyes still trained on the sky, though you could see Peter’s shoulders stiffen from your peripheral.

“Marriage doesn’t have to be scary, if you marry someone who loves you dearly.” He said gently. Peter was a good man; perhaps better than you deserved. Especially since your heart pined for another who was already destined for someone else. And Peter loved you. Why couldn’t that just be enough?

“Yes,” you admitted with a whisper, “but shouldn’t I love him too?”

The voices of your friends quieted as the music and cheers of the villagers swelled. “I suppose you should.” Peter eventually acquiesced. “Couldn’t you learn to love someone, though?”

“Perhaps,” you nodded, “but how long would that take? One year? Five? 20? My whole life?”

You left the question as it was; hanging heavy in the air. The answer to your question was that there was no answer. You’d spent your whole life with Peter and still didn’t love him the way he loved you. You didn’t think you ever would, though sometimes you felt it would make things much easier.

To have your heart’s desire…well, it would never happen so what was the point in dwelling there? It was a tree that would bear no fruit, but still, trying to convince the heart otherwise was near impossible.

“Come, let’s not talk of such things.” Else said, standing quickly and pulling you to your feet. “Let’s dance. You too Peter! I don’t want any heavy feelings before my wedding day.”

The night waxed late and you filled your bellies with mead to forget before you all retired to your homes. . . It was muggy when you dressed in the morning. Like the tepid air beside a swamp, you felt clammy and uncomfortable as you fastened your dress about yourself. Your head throbbed uncomfortably and you kept one eye firmly shut as you clung to the last tendrils of sleep.

You had no time for breakfast before leaving, but the fresh morning air was enlivening as your family made way up into the center of the village. You wondered absently what Else’s father would do now that his daughter would run a home and no longer be able to attract visitors to his bakery. The last of his children to get married; Else was the youngest of seven, six of whom were brothers.

The church came into view, in the center of the upper part of the village, just below the hill that housed the mill and its occupants. Sprawling gardens and a small cemetery greeted you as you entered the gate, making your way to the large wooden doors.

Else stood just inside the door in a deep purple dress, her mother fussing over her hair which had been braided over the top of her head and adorned with flowers. She looked beautiful and once again you felt envious. She was radiant not only because she was beautiful, but because she was so happy. Staring across the church at her soon to be husband, her smile filled her cheeks.

You wondered what it would feel like to stand at the altar with the one you loved; so happy you could hardly contain the emotion. You glanced out of the window where you could see the castle looming over the lake. Beautiful in its majesty, blue spires intense in the glow of the sun.

Once again, your thoughts turned to the prince and your mood soured. Someday, perhaps soon, an announcement would go through out the kingdom for his wedding. A marriage to, quite possibly, the fairest woman of them all.

A woman that wasn’t you.

.

.

Ahhh! I love this chapter so much and I hope you did too! I will be posting chapter 6 on Monday since chapter 7 is nearly done and then the series will end! I really look forward to hearing your thoughts, they mean so much to me! <3

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Copyright © 2019 by Taeken-My-Heart. All rights reserved.

#jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfic #bts jungguk #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #bts scenarios #bts jeon jungkook #jungkook

[deiliamedlini]

WIP Wednesday 1

I’m posting two WIPs today because they’re both currently being absorbed into another fic and will never again see the light of day in this form! So here is the first one!

This BOTW scene, but written in a modern fantasy way is: Link saves Zelda from a Guardian with a pot lid, which is a scene from Zelda’s diary.

Goes along with this other scene that happens a little later with this same Link and Zelda where Link gets assigned to guard Zelda personally.

~~~

“Hrmmm,” Robbie hummed to himself as he looked through Zelda’s notes. “This is interesting, I’ll admit that. But the way I read it, it’s too flawed. Tell me more. Let’s think this through.”

Robbie was the lead researcher on Project Guardian. His posture was perhaps the most telling part of his personality; his hands were always on his hips, straight backed, almost like a superhero. When others would cross their arms to think, Robbie would go straight into his superhero pose and hum loudly to himself.

His goggles held his white hair back from his face. The goggles were a staple of every one of his outfits. He worked more with the large machinery, building prototype after prototype until he was forced onto a break by anyone higher than him, or Purah, who technically matched his position.

Both were young, doctorates before they were even out of their twenties and neither yet nearing thirty. Both Sheikah, ensuring that the artifacts were treated with the respect and reverence that their culture demanded. Both the brightest minds in all of Hyrule.

Zelda felt intimidated near them, but she was learning from the best. So when the Robbie asks you to tell him more, one tells him more.

“Okay, my idea is that we come up with some kind of injectable serum that we place markers in. When the Guardians go to attack the threat, but they see, say, me rather than a Yiga for example, they’ll scan for the presence of that marker and cease to fire on me. Instead, they’ll attack the real enemy.”

“Hrmmmm,” Robbie said, though he’d just read all this in her notes. “Money and funding for such a task aside, how do you propose we go about injecting nearly 30 million people?”

“Mandate it, of course.”

Robbie scoffed, forgetting for a moment that he was speaking with the Princess of Hyrule. If she wanted to mandate the injection, of course she could.

“You will have those who refuse,” he said instead. “Or those too unhealthy or who reject the serum for whatever reason. Perhaps it’s toxic to our first trial participants. Perhaps it won’t work as well on a Sheikah or a Rito as it will on a Hylian. You must also think of some other, faster, more effective ways.”

Zelda sat at the desk, resting her hand on her cheek. “I suppose it could be a type of paint. Something that goes onto a person rather than into them.”

Robbie surpressed a laugh at the Princess’ expense. “Well, perhaps someone forgets their paint? Maybe the weather will wash it off. Or someone cannot afford it. Or runs out. Perhaps the Guardians attack them, and their children. What then?”

“Fine,” Zelda hissed, getting his point but feeling frustrated. It had been such a good idea, she thought. “I don’t know. If only we could set them to auto-pilot, then we could—”

Robbie smiled, knowing where her mind was going before she even got there.

She stopped, her mouth open. “We need pilots. We need a conscious mind to control them. The large ones we excavated… those would be too wild to use without a pilot, even if we theoretically could. A pilot would negate those fears. They’d see friend from foe.”

“How many pilots can we afford to train?”

That had Zelda stop immediately. “I… I don’t know.”

Robbie didn’t expect everything from her. “I don’t think we can have each Guardian with their own pilots. We start with four, one for each of the four larger ones. We take samples, record data, and see if we can synthesize a program for an autopilot. If we can, then I think we should work on incorporating that into the smaller Guardians. Perhaps we can have a lead Guardian each time, and those would have its own pilot, and a string of others will follow?”

“See,” Purah said, looking up from her phone where she’d been taking notes in the corner of the room. “Told you she had a good idea.”

“You did indeed, Princess,” Robbie said with a winning smile. “I’ll get straight to work on it. I’ll draft a proposal and send it to your father immediately so we might be able to recruit the first pilots who will champion this project. I’ll have it in to him by tomorrow.”

“Dr. Robbie,” a researcher said, coming in with a tablet. “You asked for a briefing on the latest trial run?”

Robbie hesitated, not wanting to ignore the presence of the Princess. 

But she read the room. “Don’t worry,” Zelda said, standing up. “We should be going anyway. I look forward to hearing how the proposal goes.”

“I’m sure you’ll know before me, Princess. Good night.”

“Night, Robbie.”

Purah led Zelda out from Robbie’s office, taking the route past the prototype Guardians.

Researchers were mulling around, some in lab coats, some in street clothes, all of them looked busy. And most of them had their eyes on her as she passed by.

“Next time,” Zelda muttered, “we take the quieter route.”

“Understood and agreed. Come on, let’s go to my lab. I can show you the Slate I’ve been working on.”

But they didn’t get the chance.

A deep scream rang out, crying “look out!” to anyone within earshot. Perhaps it was instinct from being in the dangerous lab often, but Purah took a flying leap forward behind one of the pillars that held up the balcony of the second floor, unsure what she was looking out for.

But Zelda didn’t have that reflex.

Instead, her head shot around, looking for the threat so she could hide in the most appropriate location. Was it a Yiga attack? Should she find something to defend herself with? Was it a chemical spill? Did she need to take heed at all if it was simply a broken glass that someone nearly stepped on.

So she didn’t see the red laser aimed in her direction, and worse, she didn’t see the blue beam of energy that followed it.

When she was knocked backwards, she was surprised to find herself on the ground at all, let alone to find someone lying on her, covering her entirely from the blast.

The white sleeve of his lab coat was smoking, burned nearly clean off and exposing singed skin beneath it, fabric melted into his flesh, and hairs on his arm gone. His hand shook, and he dropped a large piece of Sheikah tech that looked far worse than his arm, a hole burned clean through the thick piece of metal that had taken the brunt of the impact off them both, though his arm appeared to have suffered regardless.

When Zelda noticed those two things, her eyes widened, and her heart sped up. “Oh Goddess!” she breathed, her head falling backwards with a harsh thud before she remembered the man on top of her. “Are you okay?”

Her hand went to his chest to help push him up, and she felt something hard under her hand. Something hard that she knew... something like the body armor her guards used. She let her fingers move. Solid, not human flesh; definitely the armor. Her eyes darted immediately to his ear next. And above his blue earring, she saw that her suspicions were confirmed. His ear wasn’t empty, but a very familiar earpiece with a wide hidden by his disheveled hair and low ponytail that had hidden it.

He was not a scientist. He was one of her undercover guards.

“How did you get to me so fast? Where even were you?” she asked, finally understanding why some strange scientist had risked his life to reach her. But she and Purah had been alone on this side of the room. Everyone kept their distance. Everyone stayed out of reach, and he’d been there in an instant.

He stood up, off her almost as quickly as he’d dove in front of her in the first place. “Are you alright, Princess Zelda?” he asked, oozing formality and professionalism, as if he hadn’t just nearly died. He offered her his hand before wincing and retracting it, offering her his other, non-singed one. As if nothing had happened. As if she’d simply tripped.

Now, she was stunned into confusion, trying to put the events in order, to relieve them and understand. She blindly accepted his hand and felt a shockwave of energy pass between them, sending a harsh shiver down her spine that had her attention immediately shift to the man who’d saved her.

He was slightly older than her, though it couldn’t be by much. She was almost surprised her father actually employed any of the younger agents to be her guards. She’d only ever really noticed the older ones. But this man was familiar somehow, though she was sure she’d never seen him in person before today. He could have been her guard in the past, expertly blending in as was his job. But she suspected something more.

His blue eyes were brilliant and captivating. Alert and on her, like he was thinking something about her rather than simply waiting for her to answer him, his eyes were straight out of a crayon box, like the lightest and purest of the blues had been picked for his eyes, one that a child would use for the daylight sky. But the color wasn’t all that was intense about them. It was in the way he looked at her, like she held the answers to the world. His gaze was that intense. It was unnerving.

“Yes,” she finally managed. “I’m fine, thank you.”

He managed a short nod and stepped backwards, allowing her to pass. Purah had grabbed onto Zelda, rambling about how she needed to get checked. But Zelda’s eyes drifted to the burned Sheikah tech on the ground. A hole had gone through the metal. His arm had been burned. And he’d gotten to her in time. 

He was good, apparently. Good at his job. Too good. She’d have to be more alert to the locations of her guards.

“Was he near us?” was all Zelda could ask Purah as they headed out of the building, the other researchers proceeding to clean up the mess.

“I don’t know. Your guards are always near us. But Zelda, are you okay? That could have killed you! That was nearly the end of your life!”

Zelda chuckled nervously, rubbing at her hand, still feeling the agent’s in hers. But what she didn’t realize was that the attack from the Guardian hadn’t nearly been the end of her life, but it was the start of it.

#wip wednesday #legend of zelda #breath of the wild #botw #botw au #link #zelda #purah #robbie #writing

[recentanimenews]

INTERVIEW: That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime and So I'm a Spider, So What? Lead Voice Actors

  In coordination with the current season of So I’m a Spider, So What?, Crunchyroll News was given the opportunity to officially translate interviews with the staff and cast of the series. You can read the original Japanese interview between Aoi Yuki and Miho Okasaki right here.

The interview was conducted by Daisuke Iwakura. 

  So I'm a Spider, So What? x That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime Crossover Interview! "Me" (a.k.a. Kumoko) Aoi Yuki and "Rimuru Tempest" Miho Okasaki.

  It's a dream crossover between two anime airing in January: So I'm a Spider, So What? and That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime! The interview was held on December 19th, 2020 as part of the Isekai Miracle Crossover broadcast featuring Aoi Yuki, who plays "Me" (a.k.a. Kumoko), and Miho Okasaki, who plays Rimuru Tempest.  

  These two characters were reincarnated as monsters, and while they have their similarities, they have their differences, too. We spoke to Yuki-san and Okasaki-san about what they have in common, where they're distinct, and what makes each of the shows so interesting. 

    A shared concern ... being reincarnated means having a lot of dialogue?!

  —I've heard this is the first time either of you have encountered each other's projects. For starters, could you give a brief description of the show? Yuki-san, if you could go first.

  Yuki: Kumoko is a girl who was unfortunate enough to find herself reincarnated as a spider after her classroom was blown up. And the type of spider she was reincarnated as happens to be the weakest monster in that world. She's initially pretty pessimistic about what's happened, but her naturally positive and free-wheeling personality allow her to tackle the situation with gusto. She's got a lot of strengths like being quick-witted and staying calm under stress, but I think her biggest appeal is that she's very self-centered, in a good way. The way she's able to focus on what she needs to do, and what she needs to pursue to become happy makes a good match for having been turned into a monster, and really ties into her determination to survive. 

  Okasaki: Before the interview, they showed me the first episode of So I'm a Spider, So What? and while I did think Kumoko's optimism was charming, I was amazed by how many lines Yuki-san had!

  Yuki: It's pretty brutal, right?! It gives the impression that being reincarnated means having a lot of dialogue. (Laughs) 

  Okasaki: I know what you mean! Rimuru is the same way, he has a lot of monologues. 

  Yuki: Chalk it up to "things that happened when you're reincarnated." I've reincarnated a few times before ... by which I mean my characters have, of course. (Laughs) But the amount of lines Kumoko has is incomparable to all the rest. 

  Okasaki: The way she talks to herself so amusingly is really entertaining, and it really speaks to Yuki-san's strengths as an actress. I was amazed.

  Yuki: Thank you so much!

    —Now, Okasaki-san, if you could tell us about Rimuru. 

  Okasaki: After reincarnating as a slime, Rimuru ran into a character named Shizu-san, and as a result gained an alternate human form. And while I think being able to change shapes is kind of cheating (Laughs), both are really cute, and I really enjoy making each form sound distinct during the recording. In terms of personality, he's got a really big heart. He encounters characters that oppose him, but he considers their circumstances and ends up making them into allies. His humanity really attracts others to him. It's that kind of personality where you can understand how he ended up as a leader. 

  Yuki: I was shown Episode 25 of That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime. Even in that one episode, you could tell how beloved he is in a way that makes you kind of jealous. Kumoko would love to join Tempest (the Jura Tempest Federation)! 

  Okasaki: We'd be glad to have you! Our country is very accepting of monsters. 

  Yuki: Meanwhile, I'm stuck in a cave having to kill other monsters! (Laughs) The problem is none of them will listen to reason, so I just have to eat them.

  Okasaki: (Laughs)

  Yuki: I also like how easy-going Rimuru is. Even when everyone is desperate and fighting, he never loses his cool, which really impresses on you how big of a deal he is. It's the kind of composure that comes from being really strong. 

  Okasaki: That's true, being able to take a step back and look at things analytically is one of Rimuru's strengths. 

    —I'd like to discuss the similarities and differences between the two characters. First, since Kumoko and Rimuru have both reincarnated, let's talk about the differences between who they originally were.

  Okasaki: Rimuru was originally a 37-year-old office worker.

  Yuki: Kumoko was a high schooler, so that's about a 20 year age difference.

  Okasaki: Since he's an older guy, Rimuru gets really, really excited whenever cute girls show up. 

  Yuki: I remember him riding on top of someone's boobs. (Laughs) 

  Okasaki: That did happen. He often uses his slime form as a means to get to sit in girls' laps. When we were recording that scene, the audio director had to explain the male point of view in that situation. His direction was along the lines of, "You need to sound happier about it." (Laughs)

  —Do you try to be conscious about him being a  37-year-old man when portraying Rimuru, Okasaki-san?

  Okasaki: I do. I really think his perspective on things tends to be on the mature side. He doesn't feel desperate to survive like Kumoko, and when confronted with an enemy, his reaction is to think, "Well, I'll give it a shot," instead of, "I'm gonna win!" He reincarnated, ended up with a variety of skills, and before long he became a ruler, but he lived 37 years of his life and developed an outlook that keeps him from feeling desperate, and I try to capture that maturity when I perform as him. 

  Yuki: When you're 37 years old, you're an adult who's dealt with things like taking care of bills and paying into your pension, and you'll have experienced both the sweet and bitter parts of life, letting you see how it all balances out. You're able to approach life in a way where the overarching thought is, "Well, that's just how it is." Compared to that, Kumoko hasn't even started paying taxes yet, and hasn't really developed an outlook to approach life with. As a result, she tackles things with a gusto that makes you wonder if she's going to burn out, which really shows how youthful she is. But I also think the world she's reincarnated into is one where that kind of ferocity is necessary for survival.

    —There's also the fact that currently, Rimuru is surrounded by friends, while Kumoko is all by herself.

  Yuki: There's a part in Episode 25 where Rimuru's friends are having him dress up in different outfits, almost like a doll, and I thought that was wonderful. Kumoko has been on her own this entire time, in a cave, and is only able to fantasize about getting to wear clothing.

  Okasaki: For as much of a social butterfly as he is, Rimuru actually never had a girlfriend in his past life. 

  Yuki: Maybe he never seemed like boyfriend material? The kind of person who finds the object of their affection asking for romantic advice. 

  Okasaki: Oh! I kind of feel bad for him, now ... maybe he lacked that extra spice that's necessary.

  Yuki: He's nice, and seems smart, and gives really good relationship advice. 

  Okasaki: And ended up as a bachelor for 37 years as a result ... But when I think about it that way, the world he was reincarnated to might be suited to Rimuru. It's a world where you get judged for the amount of power you have, so by being both powerful and lovable, he and the world have a mutual appreciation for each other. Rimuru's past life didn't end up being very personally productive, so his reincarnation doesn't seem so bad now that he gets to be surrounded by friends and enjoy life. 

    —Since Kumoko is by herself, it sounds like you end up doing a lot of recording by yourself, too. 

  Yuki: It's so lonely! The second set of key visuals show four different versions of Kumoko, but they're all played by me.

  Okasaki: I didn't know that!

  Yuki: I'm still alone, but at least there's a little bit more back-and-forth now. (Laughs)

  Okasaki: That seems like it'd be a lot of lines ...

  Yuki: It feels like things have gotten even more hectic with the four of her.

  —Another interesting point of comparison is how the characters both have encounters with dragons. 

  Yuki: The Earth Dragon I run into is bad news. Unlike Veldora, it's not interested in talking at all. 

  Okasaki: I guess communication is off the table. It's also pretty scary looking! (Looking at the art in the teaser visuals.)

  Yuki: And it's really strong! And it's definitely going to threaten Kumoko again. The thought of becoming friends didn't occur to me.

  Okasaki: I'm not so sure that'd work, even for Rimuru.

  Yuki: Rimuru-san's strong too, though, so he'd be able to deal with it.

    —In comparison, Veldora is almost like Rimuru's partner.

  Okasaki: That's right. He might look so scary that Rimuru fainted when he first saw him, but he's actually pretty charming when you talk to him. And a tsundere!

  Yuki: That's great!

  Okasaki: When Rimuru approaches him about being friends, Veldora says, "Well, I guess I can consider it!" But in the end, they become friends anyway. 

  Yuki: That's so nice. This might be a little weird, but I always find the fantasy races in stories like this to be charming. That goes for the humanoid ones of course, but even the monstrous ones can really pull on my heartstrings. When I was talking to a friend who feels the same way, they mentioned that Veldora-san is super cute.

  Okasaki: That's interesting! Veldora is definitely a popular character. 

  Yuki: Everyone who finds dragons cute mentioned him, so I've looked at some character art before. Rimuru was in slime form too, so it was like, "This is some good fantasy race content." 

    Their circumstances may be different, but these reincarnations would definitely get along!

  —We've discussed the things they have in common, and their differences, and now I'd like to ask: Do you think these two characters would get along?

  Yuki: I don't think they'd have any trouble in that regard since they'd be able to communicate and understand each other. 

  Okasaki: The fact that they've both reincarnated is something they'd be able to bond over, and I think Rimuru would be thrilled to encounter another former human who reincarnated as a monster. 

  Yuki: Kumoko is friendly as long as she's not hungry ... then again, I think she'd realize she's outmatched. And since she doesn't pick fights she can't win, I'm sure they'd get along fine. I apologize if she accidentally eats anyone from Tempest, though!

  Okasaki: That would not be okay! (Laughs) Rimuru really cares about his friends, so please try and show some restraint. There's plenty of actual food to eat, instead!

  Yuki: As long as there's food.

  Okasaki: That's a relief ... but after talking it over, it'd be interesting to see Rimuru and Kumoko actually interact.

  Yuki: It'd make a great short anime!

  Okasaki: Good idea! They've crossed over before, so I'd love it if they adapted that story! ["Monster x Reincarnation Fair" was an original short story by So I'm a Spider, So What? author Okina Baba-sensei.]

    —Since you're both here, do you have any questions for each other? 

  Okasaki: Hearing Yuki-san's performance, she's doing a great job of establishing Kumoko-san's character, but at the same time, you can imagine a normal human high school student with the same performance. How did you manage that? 

  Yuki: To be honest, I already knew going to the audition that I'd be talking a lot with this role, and I realized if I went too hard, the performance would fall apart. (Laughs) For example, talking in a really high voice for an extended period of time wouldn't be possible, right? The end result is what comes from eliminating stuff like that. And since she's a character who can go from really low energy to being super excited pretty quickly, I tried to use a neutral voice that would let me do both. 

  Okasaki: That's really interesting! You knew you would be talking a lot beforehand, right?

  Yuki: You should always be careful with any project that has "reincarnation" in the premise, because you'll end up talking a lot.

  Okasaki: Hahaha, you're right! I'll have to remember that. (Laughs)

  —Do you have any questions, Yuki-san?

  Yuki: Rimuru-san has no gender as a slime. Was there anything special that you did considering that? 

  Okasaki: I thought he would sound gender-neutral, so I tried to craft a voice that would give that impression. That being said, I'm a woman with a feminine voice, so what worked best was leaning into a boyish direction. I would record the voice I came up with and listen to it, searching for a voice that suits the genderless Rimuru. My own voice isn't particularly exuberant either (laughs), and since I've a relatively huskier tone, I was eventually able to nail it pretty easily. That helps make it come out naturally. 

    —Thank you both so much. Before we go, what do you think is the main appeal of your projects?

  Okasaki: In Season 1, Rimuru was reincarnated as a slime, got a humanoid form, made friends, created a nice country, and it ended on a peaceful note. But in Season 2, he's going to be encountering a lot of opposition and forced to make some major decisions. Things have been smooth sailing so far, but now he's going to have to think about what he can do for his friends. I've been portraying a new, more heroic side of him, which I think will be a lot of fun to see.  

  Yuki: Kumoko's story has an element of "survival of the fittest," and there's a kind of exhilaration you get from seeing that unfold. She faces a strong enemy, grows from the experience, and then encounters something even stronger, continuing to evolve. That cycle is really interesting to watch, and her positivity can make you happy just from seeing it unfold, so it might be a good idea to end a long day with watching So I'm a Spider, So What?

  By: Guest Author

#Anime #News #Latest in Anime News by Crunchyroll!

[ellewritesathing]

(Un)Requited  -  I.L. III

Summary: Isaac Lahey had gone through many twists and turns in his life, but none of them compared to the whiplash he got when you asked him to tutor you. With a few weeks until the end of the semester and the big dance coming up, he’s hoping to figure out a way to ask you to go with him before it’s too late.

Masterlist Prev. | Part 3

Word-count: 3.1k+

A/N: i really need to work on updating this fic but i’ve finally figured out more or less what to do with this story line so hopefully my updates will be a bit more regular!!

Whenever Isaac thought he was getting better at functioning around you, you always found a way to prove him wrong. 

It had been a week since you developed the Get The Girl game plan, and he’d been spending a lot of time with you ever since. Isaac had left notes and corrections on your algebra homework that made you smile, figured out the kind of jokes that made you laugh, and had gone to your house a few times to study together (and only once had any actual studying been done). Magnus still hated him, but he was slowly but surely winning over Max and the rest of your family. 

You even sat in the stands whenever he had lacrosse practice and committed his schedule to memory - when Isaac knew full-well that you knew nothing about lacrosse. 

Things were looking up. At this rate, Isaac might actually have the courage to ask you out and have the tiniest, most microscopic chance of you saying yes. 

And then the weekend came and you took him to the mall to buy some new clothes and get a haircut. 

It was nothing too serious - Isaac had even said something that made you laugh over lunch - but now he was sitting in the salon chair and you were running your hands through his hair while the two of you waited for the hairdresser. 

Isaac knew it was an absent-minded gesture while you thought of what to do with him, but he couldn’t help the way it made him feel. He was surprised you couldn’t hear how his heart beat out of his chest every time you started combing through a new section, almost as surprised that you hadn’t noticed that he wasn’t paying attention to a word you said. 

“So what do you think?” you asked, dropping your hands on the top of Isaac’s shoulders (sadly). The touch still made him malfunction, but it was easier now that your hands were still and your eyes were focused on his in the mirror.

“I, uh- I think that sounds like a good idea,” Isaac said, trying to look like he’d been listening. He’d meant to, honestly, but it was literally impossible for him to focus around you.

Two social steps forward and about a billion back.

“Really? I thought you’d hate bleaching it,” you said. 

Isaac’s heart nearly exploded. “Bleach?” 

“And a mohawk.” 

“Oh, you’re messing with me for zoning out,” Isaac said. Though he would have been perfectly content to have a bleach blonde mohawk if it made you happy, he pretended to be cooler than he actually was by nodding at your reflection in the mirror. “I see how it is.” 

“It was too good an opportunity to pass up,” you laughed, lifting your hands back to his hair. “What I was thinking is a little shorter on the sides but keeping the top as it is. It would break my heart if we cut off your curls.” 

“Well, we wouldn’t want that,” Isaac said, too softly to be a part of his cool guy routine. Your teasing smile faded into something a bit more genuine. “Sounds good. For real this time.”

Before you had the chance to answer, the hairstylist came over and started occupying your time. As happy as it made Isaac to hear you laughing and talking with them, an ugly pang of jealousy shot through him. 

Derek had explained to Isaac when he turned that sometimes he’d feel emotions that weren’t necessarily his own. Those emotions were why anchors were so important, because otherwise Isaac would drift in a sea of emotions and they’d eventually consume him. At the time, Derek was talking about anger, but Isaac knew this had to be a part of it, too. 

Isaac just wanted you to be happy, he didn’t care who it was with or if it had anything to do with him. 

He spent the better part of the appointment trying to convince himself that he wasn’t a jealous bastard that didn’t deserve the time of day, and by the time his blowdry was done, he was back to his normal semi-functional self. 

You beamed at his hair as he stood up and ruffled it slightly, only to be laughed at by the hairstylist. Isaac couldn’t hear very well over his heart beating so loudly and with his ears recovering from the force of the hairdryer, but he could have sworn the hairstylist said something about you two being a cute couple on your way out. 

Isaac didn’t have time to dwell on the comment, though, because soon enough you were dragging him into stores he’d never been to and picking out things for him to try on. 

It was awkward at first. Isaac had lost the ability to talk to you as well as the ability to make a decision. The result was a clumsy collection of clothing and a very awkward moment before Isaac closed the changing room door with you on the other side. 

After a brief pep talk, Isaac started trying on the clothes. They weren’t bad, they just weren’t what he would normally wear. He hadn’t exactly made it easy to shop for him what with his inability to speak but he still couldn’t help feeling out of place in the stuff you’d picked out. 

When he came out, you were sitting on a bench, leaning your head against the wall and scrolling through something on your phone. You brightened up when you saw him and his heart melted, but he shook his head and placed the clothes on the return counter. 

“You didn’t like any of it?” you asked as you got to your feet. 

Isaac shook his head and sighed. “Nah, it’s not that it’s just … I haven’t really worn anything that wasn’t Camden’s first.” He blinked a few times. Where did that come from? There was no way you wouldn’t realize he was a loser now. 

“Oh,” you said quietly, dropping your gaze to your shoes. “I should have-” You looked back up at Isaac and gave him a smile. “You wanna get out of here?”

“Yeah, I’d go anywhere with you,” Isaac said before he could stop himself. He made a mental note to ask Erica to slap some sense into him when he got home.

Instead of groaning and calling him cheesy, you laughed and looped your arm around his. “Come on. I’ll buy you some ice cream on our way out.” 

The ice cream had sent shivers up your spine so, somewhere between the store and parking lot, Isaac had given you his jacket. You wore it as you drove him home, and Isaac couldn’t help but think how much better it looked on you than it did on him. 

Isaac tried to think of an excuse to not get out of the car once it was parked outside the loft, but he came up empty. He was about to thank you for the ride and the attempted shopping trip when you started talking. 

“It’s Erica, isn’t it?” you asked, staring through the windshield at where Erica was harassing Derek at the entrance to the building. She was having the time of her life and Derek looked ready to drink. 

Isaac let out a laugh. He wondered if she wanted money or if she was just having fun giving Derek a migraine. “Yeah, that’s her.” 

You bit your lip as you stared out the windshield. After a moment, you turned to look at Isaac with a somewhat indecipherable look on your face. “I think she’ll say yes.” 

“Wait, what?” Isaac asked. He had no idea what you thought Erica would say yes to, or how you got there from asking for her name. 

“Yeah, I don’t think you needed to cut your hair or change anything to get her attention,” you said, still not making any sense. “When you ask her to the dance, I think she’ll say yes.” Isaac tried very hard not to frown at you, but it probably wasn’t working because you kept talking before he could say anything. “You’re a really great guy, Isaac. If she doesn’t see that then she’s crazy.” 

“Right,” Isaac said slowly. It was the only thing he could think of to say. He had no idea how to untangle the mess he’d gotten himself into or how to explain to you that he and Erica were the farthest thing from romantic prospects. “Thanks.” 

“Yeah, of course,” you said with a smile. “I’ll see you after practice on Monday?” 

“Yeah, sure. See you.”

Isaac got out of the car, feeling dazed and confused, and waved at you as you disappeared down the street. How had he gone from feeling like he had a shot with you this morning to asking Erica to the dance? 

---

“No way,” Erica said, not looking up from the nail she was painting. 

She’d refused to stop painting them, even though the smell of the open bottle made everyone in the loft feel nauseous. Today, she’d picked out a metallic shade called Black and Blue - no doubt because anyone who got close enough to see the color would be left black and blue. 

Isaac attempted to come closer but stopped when Erica slid the bottle closer to him. “Come on, I never ask you to do anything!” 

“Oh, please. You ask me to do crap for you all the time.”

“Name one other time.” 

“Two hours ago you asked to copy my English homework because, and I quote ‘it’s a Crime and Punishment that I have to read this,’” Erica said. She looked up at him with a sly smile. “And you say you’re not witty.” 

It didn’t take a genius to see that Erica had won that angle of the argument, so Isaac changed tactics. “What if I cover for you next Thursday so you can go to that concert Derek said you’d only go to once he was dead?” 

Erica hummed and looked back down at her nails. She touched up her left ring finger before looking back up at Isaac, knowing that he’d use that time to think up several other options to offer her when she said no. “Is it really that important to you that this girl knows I’d never in a million years date you?” 

“Not how I’d phrase it, but yeah,” Isaac said. He slid into the seat across from Erica and carefully placed the lid over the bottle. 

Erica looked at him for a hard moment and then sighed. “Fine. Then I’ll find a reason to talk to her and tell her you’re not my type.” 

Isaac leaned over the table and kissed her cheek before racing out of the room to ensure he didn’t end up black and blue. “You’re the best, Erica. Have fun at the concert!” 

“Concert?” Derek asked, catching Isaac’s arm as he ran past him. 

“Definitely not,” Isaac said with a grin. He leaned in and kissed Derek’s cheek for good measure. The poor man was so off-guard that Isaac shook out of his grip without using any supernatural influences. 

---

Isaac had come up with a plan. It wasn’t a very good one, but it was the only one he had. He’d go to practice and try to be the best player on the field to impress you, and then when you guys were sitting on the bleachers and he went through his homework, he’d explain this whole scheme to you. Hopefully, the speech he’d prepared would be eloquent and he wouldn’t just throw up words all over you, but that was a risk he had to take. 

The ‘being the best player’ part kind of failed because, aside from all his issues, Isaac was very distracted by a chemo-signal in the air: nervousness. It was everywhere, but particularly near the bench and bleachers. 

He tried to put the first failure aside as he showered and changed into a shirt he thought you’d like. Instead, he went over his speech once more in his head to make sure it sounded halfway decent. 

Hey, so I know this is really weird but I need to come clean: I’ve had a crush on you ever since our brothers first dumped us on each other when we were kids. I’ve never wanted to ask Erica to the dance; I’ve only ever wanted to go with you but I never thought I had a chance with you so I lied. It was stupid, but I can’t change that now and I guess what I’m trying to say is … will you go to the dance with me?

Isaac groaned and hit his head against his locker. The speech was awful, but if he didn’t tell you the truth then he was pretty sure he was going to combust. 

He was still trying to psych himself up to talk to you when he walked back over to the bleachers and heard you laughing. Then he picked the chemo-signal up again. You were nervous. 

And you were talking to Stiles Stilinski. 

That ugly feeling of jealousy shot through him again, and Isaac worked to convince himself he was overreacting as he made his way over. 

“Hey, guys,” Isaac said evenly. He smiled at you and shot Stiles a very deliberate look. “What’s up?”

“Stiles was just telling me this story about one of your away games. Did you really fall off the bleachers right before the match and sprain your ankle?” you asked, mouth pulled up in an amused smile. It wasn’t malicious but it felt different than the one you usually gave him. 

“Uh, yeah. I guess I did,” Isaac said stiffly. “Back in freshman year. Did Stiles tell you about the time he drove his Jeep through the other team’s equipment and forced us to forfeit?” 

You whipped your head around to laugh at Stiles. Again, not maliciously. Just different. This time it was more like you and Stiles had a secret that Isaac didn’t know about. “No way, seriously?”

“Seriously. But in my defense, Scott was distracting me,” Stiles said, not sounding very defensive. He had a surprisingly easy smile on his face that made Isaac want to punch him. “But, uh, speaking of Scott, I should probably get going before he starts asking strangers for rides and becomes a seven o’clock special.” 

You laughed again and gave him a matching easy smile. “Can’t have that, can we?” 

“Definitely not,” Stiles said. His eyes flicked over to Isaac for a second before turning his attention back to you. “So I’ll see you on Friday?”

“Yeah, looking forward to it,” you said. Stiles started heading down the bleachers and you let out a small sigh before gathering up your stuff. He looked at you over his shoulder and you waved at him. 

It was amazing how such small movements made Isaac feel sick to his stomach; a smile here, a laugh there, and now a wave. 

Isaac adjusted his backpack and tried not to look as jealous as he felt. “So what’s on Friday?” 

“Oh, uh-” You pushed a piece of hair behind your ear and shrugged. There was a strange kind of nervousness rolling off you. “Stiles asked if I wanted to go to the dance with him so I suggested we do a trial run before then.” 

“Like a date?” 

“Yeah, like a date,” you said. Your expression was funny; it looked like you were trying to figure something out how Isaac felt about it, but Isaac didn’t know why his feelings would matter. “What do you think of that?” 

Isaac thought that everything made sense now. You’d never been interested in sports, and yet you came to every one of his lacrosse games and had the entire practice schedule memorized. Like an idiot, Isaac had thought all your questions meant you had taken an interest in him. 

Clearly, he wasn’t that far off. You still weren’t interested in lacrosse, you were just interested in Stiles. 

The same Stiles who hated him, made fun of him, and kept him from joining Scott’s pack for the longest time. Everything Isaac did, Stiles found a way to do better - despite being mind-numbingly human.

Stiles had a particular charm that Isaac couldn’t stand but everyone else seemed to love. He was witty, and kind, and some might say he was even good looking. And Isaac thought, most of all, that after going out with a guy like Stiles, there was no way you would ever want to go out with him.

“I think that’s great,” Isaac said with a tight smile. His heart was beating out of his chest and if you were like him, you would have known he was lying. 

But you were human - you didn’t know. 

Still, you frowned. Either Isaac said something wrong or you felt conflicted about something. The frown was only there for a second before you replaced it with a smile only slightly different to the one you usually wore, closer to the nervous one you’d given him when you asked him to tutor you. “You do?” 

“Yeah,” Isaac lied again. If there was one thing his time with you had made Isaac realize, it was that having a place in your life - even a place as a friend with unrequited feelings - was better than no place at all, and he wasn’t going to screw that all up by telling you how he felt. He took a deep breath. “But, uh, do you mind if we talk about this some other time? Derek texted when I was in the locker room and he needs my help with something at the loft.” 

You blinked a few times, trying to piece together the quick change in pace. “Oh, uh, do you want me to drive you?” 

Your pained expression almost made Isaac spill his guts right there. He couldn’t risk spending any more time with you. “No, he’s coming to pick me up.” 

“Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow?” you asked, eyebrows knitting together as you looked at him, despite the smile on your face. 

“Yeah, sure. Not like those problems are going to solve themselves, right?” Isaac asked. He did his best to give you a reassuring smile. 

Your smile faltered for a second, but then it was back on your face and covering up any other thoughts. “Right.” 

Isaac left pretty quickly after that, with one thought clear in his mind: Out of everyone in the entire school to go out with, why did you have to pick Stiles Fucking Stilinski?

Tagged: @lettherebelovex​  @britty443​  @ietts  @magnus-the-fabulous-entp-bane​

#(un)requited #teen wolf #isaac lahey #isaac lahey imagine #isaac lahey fanfiction #isaac lahey x reader