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watevermelon · 3 years

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Just Enough | Diluc (Genshin) x Traveler!Reader

✧ Summary: Between freeing Dvalin and pursuing the Geo Archon, you were constantly moving forward to find your brother with hardly a second to look back. You were in a rush to find your lost sibling, not realizing how your heart had stopped in Mondstadt. Visiting the city while waiting for things to die down after Rex Lapis’ death, you return to a… jealous Diluc?

➳ Spoilers for the Dark Knight Hero quest and some of the manga background ➳ Notes: lots of fluff, slight angst and jealousy, character development, mutual pining at one point, a long one-shot that covers the (1.0) beginning of the Liyue story ➳ Navigation

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If he had only asked you to stay.

To say that these past few weeks were a blur would be a severe understatement. For months you were simply a lost wanderer, traveling from world to world for any sort of clue that could lead you to your brother.

And in just a matter of weeks you were suddenly Mondstadt’s hero.

From bringing peace to Dvalin’s heart to meeting Mondstadt’s infamous Dark-knight hero, you were familiarizing yourself with a people and a place for a world you knew you did not belong to. Learning of the history of the Seven Archons, the Gods’ of contracts or of freedoms, suddenly you were being thrust into it all at once.

You shared the burden of knowledge with a few of Mondstadt’s elite, the true God of Freedom walking in plain sight to the citizens of his nation. And with him, were the quick allies you found side-by-side when fighting a dragon.

It was all happening so suddenly and Lord Barbatos himself was giving you directions to the next country over, to continue on your journey in meeting all seven Archons to Liyue.

To this day, you could fondly recall your final celebration in Mondstadt.

“To think that despite his small stature he can drink so much.” Kaeya commented from his seat at the table, eyes slid in the direction of Venti at the bar next to you. You could see the impatient stare behind Diluc’s eyes, not at all happy that their God was indulging himself so freely.

“Honorary Knight, Mondstadt thanks you for your service.” Jean formally stated, for the nth time since Dvalin had been freed.

“I’m just glad I was at the right place at the right time.” You answered back, offering a placating smile in return.

“Humility doesn’t pay for dinner!” Paimon hmphed next to you.

“But aren’t we at a feast now?” You countered, gesturing to the table.

She sighed again before moving to get a taste of some of the honey roasted ham. “Fine, don’t blame me when we have to settle into that poor excuse of a tent!”

“Please, do not feel you are in any rush to leave.” Jean offered, “You are welcome lodgings at our Favonius Headquarters.”

“With the other Knights of Favonius?” Diluc asked, face completely blank if not for the small upward tilt of his left brow.

Kaeya flirted with you from across the room, uncaring of the other partygoers, “You could always stay with me.”

You laughed lightly and responded, “That’s a hard pass.”

The Cavalry Captain simply shrugged, offering it to you again if you changed your mind before grabbing another glass of wine and walking with Jean toward the busy table.

Barbara was trying different dishes and offering some to her older sister, spouting descriptions with medicinal purposes and flavors that compliment one another. Lisa was no better as Amber egged both of them on, completely sober as she continued to feast on the food laid before her. Other Knights of Favonius that you recognized were scattered about, enjoying the first truly peaceful night in the past few weeks.

“You are welcome to stay at the Dawn Winery, while you look for your brother.”

He relished in the sight of your smile.

“Thank you, Diluc.”

That was three months ago.

And since then you had been thrown into more of not your business but suddenly IS your business, business.

You remembered your last day before setting off from Mondstadt. The Knights of Favonius would surely call on you again and so you had quick goodbyes with Jean and Kaeya the day before. Venti was saved for last, a somewhat light-hearted and yet somber goodbye as he was the first and last person for you to see in Mondstadt.

But Diluc… How could you even start that conversation?

He was the lone wolf with a prickly reputation and an even worse sense of patience. You remembered the first time you even spoke to him, clipped words meant to get straight to the point. Not to mention that he was the first person to antagonize Kaeya, who was one of the few people you kinda trusted in the beginning.

It was not until the side adventures, the little quests you did one-on-one that you realized how much more there was to the edgelord that was Diluc.

Of course, he was still the strict type to focus solely on the mission.

But you realized more about why Diluc had come to be this way.

‘The uncrowned king of Mondstadt.’

As you worked together against the possible abyss invasion of Mondstadt, you poured over strategies and testing of his slime potion. And while slimes were not the hardest enemies to fight, he still complimented you on your form and appreciated your quick style with the sword.

You had a unique style, unlike Kaeya or anyone else of this world.

“Elegant, but deadly.”

You took that as a compliment.

And little by little Diluc opened up to you, cluing you into his personal history.

He and Kaeya were step-brothers, growing up together at the Dawn Winery. How he knew Jean since he was child and once served as her superior in the very organization he now despised. How he still has things to protect, to avenge. And while his description about what happened to his father was nothing more than a quiet stare, you were still grateful that he was entrusting you into his world.

You remembered Kaeya’s words as he discovered Diluc’s nighttime secret:

“I’m glad you’re working with an assistant.”

Kaeya’s tone may have come out scathing, but you knew better. Kaeya and Diluc used to be close, close enough to entrust their lives with one another. There was no doubt that Kaeya still cared about his brother, but with Diluc pushing everyone away….

Again, you were so appreciative that he chose to let you in.

When Kaeya finally left the bar, you turned to Diluc with a smile. “I think my work tonight earned me at least one glass of wine?”

That broke a small smile on his face, not the slight tilt on the sides or the wistful, far off look he got when he recalled something beyond your knowledge.

“Alright.” He waved over a nearby waitress, all of the customers tonight employees of the Dawn Winery. “Let’s take this up to the balcony, I’m going to close up anyway.”

“Oh?” Paimon’s squeaky tone somehow went up another octave in curiosity, “I just remembered I have to ask Venti something! Why don’t you two enjoy your date alone.”

She flew away before you could swat at her for her teasing words, blush apparent on your face. Diluc kept his flat face as he maneuvered things behind the bar, wiping at something before putting something in the below cabinet.

To your surprise, he handed you a bottle and two glasses, motioning with his head toward the second floor. Charles was among some of the ‘customers’ tonight, taking his usual spot behind the bar as Diluc stepped out.

You followed him wordlessly, walking up the steps and out the second-floor door closely behind him. He pulled out a wooden chair next to the table outside, you taking the seat underneath the stars as he plopped down alongside you.

“I thought the stars here in the city would get overcrowded by the lights.” You admitted, “But they’re beautiful even here.”

“Yeah, they are.” Diluc agreed, making you smile before turning to him.

“You’re not even looking at the stars.”

The pyro-user simply smirked, before looking up at the starry sky with you. You relished in the moment, glad to have some time alone with Diluc. Many had commented that the winery owner was so elusive, missing from the bar weeks at a time and unseen within the city walls. And yet here he was, enjoying the crisp air and a glass of wine with you.

“Thank you.” You started.

“Shouldn’t you be demanding thanks from me?” Diluc asked.

You laughed lightly, “Yeah, cause I’m sure that the abyss mage would have totally kicked your ass without me.”

Diluc had that slightly amused expression on, looking a bit more light-hearted as he turned to you with a slight tilt at the corner of his lips.

You continued, “I mean, thanks for entrusting me with your secret.”

Diluc paused, looking you straight in the eyes, probably to gauge your honesty. And he would concede that there was nothing else there. You wanted to be his friend, the first in a long time to have approached him without your own agenda regarding either the winery or his fortune.

In return, he poured you a glass of wine and replied, “You’ve long earned it.”

“Thank you, Diluc.” You took the glass and felt your heart flutter at the brush of his fingers. “I’m glad I got to know you.”

“I’m glad you’re in my life too.”

He shot you another one of his genuine, millisecond smiles before pouring some from the bottle for himself.

“Wine and not grape juice today?”

But he did not answer, instead eyes latching onto the rise of goosebumps on your arms. You could not help it against the crisp Mondstadt air, naturally feeling a chill at this time of night. Without a word, he shrugged off his outer coat, the thick black one he wore at almost all times of day, and rested it casually on your shoulders.

You muttered a small thanks as you snuggled into it. Diluc’s iconic dark coat, a complete contrast to yourself. While you wore a white dress with open sleeves and plenty of skin, Diluc wore black covering most of his body with the exception of his neck and face. Seeing it on your shoulders only reminded you of that fact.

“Don’t need you getting sick anytime soon.” Diluc stated plainly, as he returned to his seat.

You huddled into it more and replied, “Aw, Diluc cares.” Again, you were rewarded with another flat expression. “Or rather, if the events of today are to show anything, you’ve always cared. Just in your own, protective way.”

He slung an arm across the back of your seat, leaning closer before stating in a low voice. “Don’t forget that.”

Your eyes snapped to his, the both of you basically sharing the same breath in your close proximity. His scarlet eyes, usually a searing color when on the battlefield, looked surprisingly tender only inches from yours.

“You mean so much to me, Diluc.” You whispered back, afraid that anything above a whisper would punctuate this amorous atmosphere.

He slowly dragged his face alongside yours, stopping beside your ear and continuing in his low voice. “So do you.”

There was no stopping the shiver of anticipation that crawled up your spine.

You could feel the small smirk grow against your skin before he pulled off and grazed his lips against your forehead.

The expression on your face was practically begging him to kiss you. From the small lean in your side against his arm slung around you to the way your eyes slowly fluttered closed, it took all of his self-control to stop himself before he pulled you closer. He wanted nothing more than to grasp you by the back of your neck, relish in the way you melt against him. To kiss you now and tomorrow and maybe even the morning after at the winery.

Diluc had to remind himself that in less than a week you were going to be long gone.

He did not want to ruin this memory a week from now, asking what if and why. And so he settled on a simple kiss above your brow before leaning back in his seat, enjoying the moment he had with you tonight.

You were disappointed, but actually not surprised. It was a feat in itself that you were so close to Diluc in this short amount of time, it would do no good in pressuring him into anything else. But also, another more rational part of you, had to remind yourself that getting attached to the people of this world would only make it hurt more when you had to return home.

This was for the better.

But no matter how much rational thought Diluc used to push you away, you were sure that you had already fallen for him. From the small interactions with Diluc, you could barely recognize the moment that you were completely enamored with him. It was not during the first time you saw him fight or even the night he leant you his jacket. No, you feared it was much before then.

To think you had gotten attached to Diluc in such a short amount of time.

But then you had to say goodbye.

“Safe travels.” Diluc stated from behind the bar when he saw you enter on your last day.

You were not sure what you expected, a drawn out goodbye or a fore longed hug, but Diluc was still, well. He was still Diluc. And to see him re-erecting his walls before you left for your journey was a sad thought, but needed while the two of you were hundreds of miles away from one another.

But you would regret it if you didn’t say anything.

Instead you settled on, “I’ll miss you.”

The hopeful look in your eyes spelled out exactly what you wanted to hear back.

Diluc instead replied, “You fight good.”

“Oh. Um.” The hesitation was clear in your voice.

Was this really how you were going to leave things?

But with Diluc turning his attention back to the wine glass he was previously wiping, yes. It seemed that this was exactly how he wanted to leave it. Paimon scoffed, but said her own goodbyes before flying away.

“Goodbye, Diluc.”

Outside the tavern, you let your frown grow at that interaction. After everything you had been through together, Diluc complimented you on your fighting? Then said peace out?

“That was really lame.” Paimon commented aloud as she floated alongside you. You could not help but internally agree, but you had a whole journey ahead of you. At least the busyness of Liyue would keep you busy from dwelling on that conversation.

But as you said goodbye to Venti, the both of you stood in silence under the giant tree staring at the city. You thought about going back three times, to get a proper goodbye out of Diluc. But doing so would do neither of you any good, since it would only open more issues.

“No more questions about the other Archons?” Venti asked, voice surprisingly serious.

“Can’t think of anything.”

“None even of a certain… winery owner?” You could almost hear the smile in his voice.

You rolled your eyes and responded, “You’re such a little shit.”

“Hehe.”

You both continued to stare at the city, the marvels of its people and history within its high walls. To think Barbatos and Dvalin were finally free, because of your otherworldly intervention. Venti was truly thankful for you, and while he knew his words were on the more mischievous side, he knew that you understood.

Venti’s voice permeated the air. “Be safe in Liyue.”

You smiled back and offered him a tight hug, replying. “As always.”

To think that the same day that you stepped into Liyue, Rex Lapis was murdered before your very eyes. It was like the Gods actually hated you, having to rely on a Fatui to run away from the government officials hot on your trail.

Since then you had been working with Zhongli to prepare for a parting ceremony. From running around for certain types of Jade materials to singing to flowers, you were happy to take a second to yourself at all. You were afraid that trouncing around Liyue with a bounty on your head would do you no good and often stayed in the wild areas. Visits to the city were for necessities only, which often left you relying on the ever so truthful Childe or the mora-averse Zhongli.

More than three months after your initial departure to Liyue, you stepped back into the walls of Mondstadt’s bustling city, a commission nearby and you figured you were safe simply due to your reputation under the Knights of Favonius.

Venti was the last face you saw and the first face that greeted you, beckoning to join him for lunch. With your final commission of the day finished, you joined him with a smile and ordered some honey roasted ham.

You recounted some of the news to Venti, meeting many of the adeptus and how out of touch they seemed with the region. You described Zhongli from the funeral parlor who always felt like he knew more and played a higher part in Liyue (and you inwardly noted how Venti’s eyes lit up in recognition at the name). And also, Childe the Fatui Harbinger that had you on edge.

“You’re hanging out with a harbinger?” Venti asked.

“Uh oh.” Paimon reacted.

“Well.” You remembered your last encounter with Signora. “It’s complicated.”

Venti paused before sighing, “Is he cute?”

“That’s not why!” You huffed back instantly.

“So he is cute!”

“And rich!” Paimon added, joining in on the teasing.

“Not the issue here.” You stated, “He saved me from the Millelith and helped me get into contact with the adepti.”

Venti’s mischievous smile from the earlier teasing turned blank, as if he was fully ingesting your words. “... Why would he do that?”

“Huh?”

But Venti quickly recovered, waving away the question and urging you to move past it. “Just thinking out loud, continue. What happened after?”

And so you recalled everything from then. How the soldiers followed you all the way up the mountain and how you had to defend yourself from people that were supposed to be on the same side as you.

How there was someone out there with the strength to take down a God.

Venti laughed at you for like, twenty minutes.

After his laughter subsided, he held a hand over his stomach and asked. “They think you killed Rex Lapis?”

He took another look at your pouting face and laughed again.

It only made you scowl further. “I’m glad you think my supposed war crimes are so funny.”

“I think I’m missing the punchline again.” Paimon added.

“Hehe. You’ll be fine.” Venti shot back his mischievous smile, “Besides, I’m sure you’re looking forward to laying low here with a certain… someone here.”

You paused and put your fork back down, “What are you trying to say?”

“Well, the Dawn Winery is throwing a festival tonight.” Venti stated clearly, “Isn’t that why you’re here?”

“Wait, really?”

The mischievous light was back in Venti’s eyes, “I’m sure the winds of fate have brought you here purely on coincidence.”

You sighed and turned to him fully. “You trying to fight, old man?”

“Hehe.” His signature giggle, one you found almost endearing, was undoubtedly mocking you. “We should go together later.”

And true to his word, somehow you found yourself with the Anemo Archon heading over to the bar. To think that it was Venti who introduced you here and now he was bringing you along again.

That is, if you even had a chance to make it inside at this rate.

The area was packed to the brim, all the seats outside in front and on the side of the building already taken. There was a line out the door, many hopeful young women with gleaming eyes trying to get a one-on-one conversation with the current barkeep and owner.

You peered into the open door and saw Diluc and Charles behind the bar, the red-head adorned with his usual flat-expression. It was the first time in months since you had seen him, but he looked exactly as the day you had left. Still the same colored wardrobe and prickly atmosphere, Diluc was still, Diluc.

What did not help was the ever growing line of flirty men and women trying to vye for his attention.

It only seemed to further nail the pit in your stomach.

Was this… jealousy?

You didn’t dwell on the thought for long.

Instead, you considered for a single-second if you should just turn tail now, but Venti must have seen your hesitation and grabbed you by the arm to walk inside. Dozens of eyes followed you on the way in, many people recognizing you as the young hero of Mondstadt and honorary knight of Favonius.

The crowd was surprisingly less inside, but knowing Diluc he probably would have tried to corral everyone to the outdoor areas. Venti continued to lead you towards a table in the back and you saw a familiar red-bowed Outrider.

“I didn’t even know you were going to be here today!” She greeted you excitedly.

“Tone-Deaf Bard here convinced us to stay the night.” Paimon replied.

“Oh?” Her voice lifted in a tone that only spelled trouble, “No matter, I’m glad to see you in one piece.”

“I’m assuming you’ve heard.”

Amber stretched in her seat and lowered her voice, smile turning to a smirk. “Well, I won’t confirm anything. But my suspicions are that the blonde person the Knights were pursuing for stealing the Holy Lyre may be the same blonde person running from the Millelith.”

“What a crazy theory.” Paimon responded as she cleared her throat.

“At least it’s just a theory, right?” Amber replied. “Anyway, we’ll hold the seats. Do you mind going up to the bar to order?”

Paimon chimed up as she floated down into the wooden seat, “Yeah, you should go.”

You barely had a second to object before Venti agreed and was motioning for you to go back to the bar. If not for their eager stares at you, you would have rolled your eyes at how obvious they were being.

“Fine, fine. I’m going.” You stated aloud, getting up from the seat you inhabited for at most ten minutes.

Turning towards the bar, you took in a deep breath to collect your thoughts. To think you fought the Wolf of the North and Oceanid with more courage - it was just Diluc.

“Long time no see.” You greeted, trying to sound extremely casual. “Bottle of wine for one of your favorite people?”

Diluc looked at you for a quick second, then back down to the bar, then rapidly snapping back up to you in surprise. “Hey. Of course.”

Unsure what to say, you responded back with a simple, “Thank you.”

“Didn’t know you’d be in town today.”

“It was all coincidence. Venti told me about your event tonight.” You mentioned, motioning behind you to the table where the three of them were waiting. Amber waggled her eyebrows in response and you turned back to Diluc in embarrassment.

But he was looking at you the entire time. “For a war criminal, you look well.”

“Ugh, not you too.”

“Ironic how you delinquents always return here while hiding it out.” Diluc did not answer, instead openly teasing you.

Honestly, it was a little ironic that you and Venti ran here after stealing the Holy Lyre, just to end up back here while the Millelith were on the hunt for you.

Instead you replied, “They didn’t release any names.”

“Right, it’s probably some other sword-wielding blonde with white clothes and access to the Anemo vision.”

“Obviously.”

To think you were so involved in Teyvat's politics. An otherworldly being with no prior connections to the people or nations was somehow involved with the highest ranking people of every country you’ve stumbled into.

Everyone from the Dvalin team knew about your primary objectives: to find your brother and regain your full power through the seven Archons. And when news of Rex Lapis’ death reached Mondstadt, Diluc could almost physically feel the dread in his heart that something had happened to you. And when the Millelith released their man-hunt of your exact profile, there was no doubt that you were involved.

To see you standing before him, in association with an Archon of all people, it was like a breath of fresh air on his heart. You were here in the tavern, fine and even enjoying the night.

A large part of him wanted to ask about your journey, what was it that had you on the run again? But with the growing line out the door, he knew he barely had time to keep this conversation going.

So instead, Diluc grabbed glasses and a bottle of wine from beneath the bar and asked, “Spare a few minutes for me later?”

You nodded quietly, handing him the necessary Mora before returning back to the table.

Amber did not pull her punches, “So, you guys dating yet?”

You almost dropped the bottle, but Venti was quick even through his laughter.

“Yeah and I’m the Archon of Snezhnaya.” Paimon replied sarcastically.

“Shut up.” You pouted, “It was just nice to see each other after all this time.”

“Oh so you had a good conversation? Did he ask you to stay after? Are you going to stay the night? Did he offer for you to stay at the Dawn Winery?” Amber spit out question after question, not a sense of patience or tact in her words.

Venti was still laughing like the Archon of assholes he was.

While they prodded through their multiple questions, you tried to wave them away to another conversation topic. If Amber was prodding you like this, you could only imagine that the other Knights, such as Kaeya and Jean, were also aware of your strange relationship.

Amber tried to push it a bit more, but you were able to spin the conversation to ask what the others were up to. It was interesting to hear about the little tasks in Mondstadt, small commissions that the Knights take care of in the city as well as guarding the areas further out into the country.

And while you hated to drift off with them sitting right in front of you, your mind often wandered toward the red-head behind the bar. Diluc had personally asked you to stay back later, undoubtedly to speak to you about something one-on-one. Would it be cowardly if you left early? Would the others notice if you tried to make a break for it at one point?

Again, it seemed as if Venti was capable of reading your mind, lightly calling you to attention and putting a casual hand on the back of your chair.

He was not letting you get away from this.

Venti even shifted the conversation to you, asking about Liyue and the local adventures you had while in the city. Unable to ignore the direct questions, you told them about the stories of the people you met so far and the strange events you seemed to be dragged into.

“Wait, start over.” Amber cut into your most recent story about a ship just outside of the Liyue city. ”You just glided down onto the Pearl Galley?”

You paused then replied, “Well. I mean the ship was just sitting there outside the harbor and I was curious.”

“And so you boarded a luxury ship without an invitation?”

“Yeah, so?” Paimon answered with a question, genuinely confused.

“And yet you wonder how you keep getting involved in all these crazy schemes.” Amber answered ambiguously.

“Well, eventually I did get an invitation.”

“But after you were already on the ship.” Amber pointed out. “How did you even glide that far out?”

“I climbed to the top of the nearby mountain and then just dropped down.”

“Wow.”

“Is it really a surprise?” Venti commented, “She doesn’t even follow the proper stairs here in the city. Don’t think we don’t see you climbing over every wall here in Mondstadt.”

“You’re such a weirdo.” Amber sighed with a smile, “You’re lucky we love you so much.”

You continued on with your stories, some in the city and others within hidden temples deep in the wilderness, puzzles and timed traps masking treasures you sought to find. Amber and Venti listened on in rapt attention, asking questions here and there and even teasing you about your constant climbing.

You hadn’t even noticed how the bar patrons were starting to slowly thin out.

The night with Venti and Amber was such a refreshing feeling compared to the nights you spent staring up silently at the night sky, only Paimon at your side. It was nice to hear and speak to other people, to not be on the run and always looking over your shoulder.

Feeling a light tap on the side, you turned to see Diluc standing at attention.

“Hey.” He greeted you again.

“We were just on our way out!” Amber exclaimed, standing instantly with Venti not far behind her. “Mondstadt’s star Outrider has to be up bright and early tomorrow.”

“Which is why you’re both leaving…?” You asked.

“It’s my duty to ensure the safety of the city and we said we were going to discuss something.” Venti answered ambiguously.

You crossed your arms, “Discuss what?”

“The— !” Amber paused, “The thing. You know, with the stuff at the Seven Winds Temple.”

“Right! Let’s get going.” Venti turned to Paimon at the last second, “I think this will interest you.”

Paimon winked at you before turning to Diluc, ”Right, the stuff!”

Diluc motioned you to follow him and so, once again, you found yourself following behind the Pyro-user out the second-floor balcony. However, instead of sitting at the table, you learned against the railing while Diluc stood to the side.

“Wasn't expecting you to be gone for so long.” Diluc started with a flat voice.

You turned to him with a slight grimace. “I’m sorry, I ended up getting caught in something important back in Liyue.”

More important than him.

The implication was quiet in the back of Diluc’s mind.

But that would always be the case. To think that the first person in years to open up his shell was someone who could only be in his life temporarily. You intrigued him to the high heavens - the strange mix of both pride and humility as you fought and carried yourself. You were strong, but merciful. Kind, but a purveyor of your own brand of justice.

It had been a while since he met someone with such genuine reservations as you.

But your time together was already ticking down, from your time in Mondstadt to your time in his world. You were looking for your brother and who knew if he was even in Tyvat currently? It would be unfair to be bitter towards you. And so he resolved long ago to simply cherish the moments you had together.

So instead of snapping back, Diluc teased you.

“I’m sure. I’ve heard of your extensive… wanted days.”

You sighed aloud, “How did the news travel here so fast?”

Diluc smirked, “First Barbatos and now Rex Lapis? What kind of luck do you have?”

“The worst kind.”

Of course, there was something he wanted to learn more about. After he had caught wind from Katheryn in Liyue, Diluc still wanted to be informed about your current situation. To think that you were in close association with one of the high Fatui Harbingers after Signora personally attacked you, it was almost like you were openly inviting trouble.

It also did not help that many of the gossip mills included how attractive this particular Fatui was.

He goes by the alias of ‘Childe.’ Young, but deadly!

A Fatui, but doesn’t wear his mask - for good reason! He’s quite the looker.

I wouldn’t mind if he impaled me somewhere. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Needless to say, his sources did not alleviate his worries.

Of all people? A Fatui was one of your close associates in Liyue? A party of him wanted to snarl, the thought a worse downgrade from the Knights of Favonius. At least he knew Kaeya would do you no harm; he doubted the same could be said about Childe.

Archons, why did he care so much?

Diluc told himself multiple times that your abrupt parting was necessary to keep himself from getting too attached to you. But it hardly mattered when he was worrying this much anyway in spite of that.

Fuck, why did he just let you walk away like that?

Diluc was not going to make the same mistake.

He turned to you and asked, “Like the Fatui kind?”

You sighed, “Believe me, I don’t like it either.”

“And yet somehow here we are.”

“It’s complicated, okay?”

“When is it not with you?” Diluc asked, more hypothetically. And while from anyone else, it may have felt offensive, you could tell from his tone that it was just a tired sigh.

“Tell me about your journey.” He continued.

“What?” You answered with a question, genuinely surprised. “It’s a long story, not all that interesting.”

Diluc took a step forward, taking the spot next to you against the rail as your shoulders touched. “I want to hear it from you.”

You couldn’t help but smile, “Okay.”

And so you recounted your journey to find the Geo Archon, how the adepti set up strange puzzles and at some point you swore you were pulled into a teacup that somehow contained a full domain.

There were also other missions on the side, other things you would do to collect Mora or materials if you were going to get any stronger. Some of them made sense — doing deliveries, clearing abyss camps, and other mercenary like duties. Other instances, not so much.

“Only you would accept a commission from a ghost.” Diluc teased as you recounted the treasure in the mines.

“In my defense, I didn’t think he was a ghost at first.”

“Right. Nothing suspicious at all about a transparent old man in the middle of an abandoned village.”

“I was reading the poster he was showing!”

“And when did you realize he was a ghost?”

“... After I met three other ghosts.”

Diluc cracked a smile at that, only making you pout more. You had adjusted your postures overtime, standing against with rails to your backs as you faced the tavern.

“He paid me good Mora!”

“How…?” Diluc thought about it before waving it off, “Forget it. I don’t want to know.”

You laughed back before you saw the lights inside the tavern switch off, complete darkness in the windows as the remaining employees packed up and went home.

“Oh wow, I hadn’t even realized how long we were out here.” You admitted, “I’m sorry I took up so much of your time.”

“Don’t apologize. I wanted to spend this time with you.”

“Still, it’s already late.”

“You’re right. Where were you and Paimon going to spend the night?”

“Honestly, I don’t know.” You admitted, “Venti convinced us to stay, but I don’t even know where he is.”

Diluc pushed off the railing to stand facing you, “You could stay the night at the winery. We can retrieve Paimon tomorrow.”

What game was he playing? Your disappointing departure with Diluc cutting you off and now he was asking for your time and space back into his life? You hated that he pushed you away just to pull you back in at his convenience. And while you understood his personality tended to keep people at a distance, you had your own limits as to what you could withstand.

“... Diluc, what are you doing?”

“You’ll have to be more clear.”

You closed your eyes, trying to gather your thoughts and hamper down on your rising temper. “Come on, why are you being so nice to me?”

He stared at you expectedly, blank eyes urging you to continue.

It only served to make you more angry.

“Diluc, when I left you hardly blinked. And now that I’m here, after months of us not talking, you want me to spend the night?”

“I told you before how much you meant to Mondstadt.”

To Mondstadt? Not even to himself personally?

You decided it was better to confront him cleanly asking, “Why didn’t you kiss me that night we were drinking here?”

Diluc paused, not a single hint of surprise on his face as you addressed the situation head-on. “Why should I have?”

“Don’t act like you didn’t feel it. There was something between us.” You scoffed.

He noticed your use of past tense.

“Does it honestly matter? You would’ve left anyway, I saved us both the trouble.”

You visibly recoiled in response. “Is that what this is about? I have to go to Liyue and the other counties, Diluc. I have to find my brother.”

“I know that.” Diluc cut in, before you got the wrong idea. “You don’t think I’m acutely aware of that fact? The fact that this is my home and not yours. That one day you’ll find your brother and I’ll never see you again?”

“Wait.”

“Believe me, I know better than anyone that you’re off to find your brother. And I’ll help you in any way that I can.” Diluc continued, not heeding your confused attempts to stop him. “But let’s not pretend like I was anything more than a stepping stone in your journey.”

“That’s not true!”

“Oh?” Diluc’s tone was almost challenging, “It’s not? So once the dust is settled, if I asked you to stay here with me, would I be enough?”

You stuttered over your words, “I --”

“I don’t want to hear your excuse because we both know the answer.” He cut you off, “I was trying to save myself from that before it happened.”

“Will you let me speak, you idiot!?” Your voice cut through the silent evening air.

Diluc paused, standing a good ten feet away from you and looking angrier than you’d ever seen. But he did, thankfully, stop talking.

“Is it crazy to think that I feel the same way about you?”

“What?”

“Diluc, I’m just me!” You answered, “I have nothing to my name but an objective to find my brother — if he’s even alive at this point. I need to try and I need to continue on this path…”

He crossed his arms, but stayed quiet as he listened.

“But just because I have so much ahead of me, that doesn’t I don’t care about where I’ve already seen.” You took a few steps toward Diluc as you spoke, “You mean so much to me and I wouldn’t ever want to throw that away.”

“You won’t have a choice if you have to leave this world.”

“If!” You pointed out, “Diluc you’re so worried about the future, about me walking away from you forever, but it doesn’t have to be this way.”

“And suddenly there’s an alternative?”

“There’s always been one, you idiot! You just never bothered to actually talk to me.” You put your hands on his chest, the light material of his dark clothes underneath your palms. “I would’ve tried. If you asked me to make this work, to come back to you at the winery back then, I would’ve done it.”

Diluc closed his eyes, taking in your words as his hands snaked down to your wrists.

“Don’t give me empty promises.”

“I mean it!” You defended, “You aren’t just another person, Diluc. I—“

He opened his eyes then, reflecting back to you as hopeful and curious. “You…?”

“I care about you more than you know.” You settled on, still unsure about the extent of your feelings. “Why are you giving up on us before even starting?”

You stared right back at Diluc, his silence paramount to the inner turmoil you were sure he was going through. From his late father to the betrayal from the Knights, there were plenty of reasons why Diluc was so hesitant to connect with other people.

But you’d be damned if you didn’t try.

Your hands felt heavy against his chest. Despite your small demeanor and even smaller palms, the weight of your hands seemed to play seesaw between his heart and mind. He had logical reasons to keep you at a distance, but here you were trying to carve your way through back to him.

It had been a long time since he cared about anyone like this. And Diluc could not even recall the last time he wanted to sorely kiss someone at all. But how could he not want to now? You stared up at him, eyes blazing with determination as you tried to convey your feelings.

“You mean so much to me.” Diluc stated after a few silent minutes, “Let’s make this work.”

The smile you shot him was wide and radiant, a private blessing that only he was gifted tonight. He wrapped his arms around your waist, eager to feel more of you — to envelop you in his arms and keep you within them tonight.

One hand strayed upward, carding itself in your hair and pulling you closer until both your eyes fluttered closed. The soft skin of your lips slotted against his, an endearing frenzy to give one another tender pecks. You could not help the happy mewl that escaped your lips as Diluc licked against the crease of your skin.

Moaning aloud to his tender touch, Diluc was eager to explore every inch of your wet cavern. There was no battle of tongues, simply moving in tandem as Diluc dominated the kiss. You tried to maneuver to give him more access, but with your height difference it was the best you could do.

Diluc lifted one of your legs, wrapping it around his waist and lightly tapping the other to do the same. Eyes clouded with lust, you did as instructed and quickly felt the soft thump behind you, the wall of the tavern helping hold you upright.

You fell more and more into the passionate lip lock, pushing to match his intensity as Diluc connected you in one of the most intimate ways possible. One hand was still in your hair while the other continued its scandalized trail downward.

You prayed to Barbatos that nobody heard you outside the tavern.

The both of you would later attribute this impassioned frenzy due to the prolonged time apart and mutual pining (culminating in a mistake outside on the balcony, twice inside the bar, and the rest of the night back at the winery).

For the first time, you enjoyed the morning sun streaming in through the windows, a lazy arm strung across your waist as you snuggled in the chest of the man you were growing to love.

Diluc woke long before you, hand threading through your hair silently as he resolved to remember this moment. You kissed at the naked skin of his chest twice before nuzzling him, feeling the light arm pull you closer.

“Good morning.” You started, voice muffled against his skin.

But you would have never expected Diluc to be so affectionate.

He kissed the top of your head, murmuring in a low tone. “Good morning, my love.”

Nothing about your relationship was perfect. You still fought and cried like every other couple. But you both knew that what you had was real, willing to fight for it no matter the obstacles that came with the future.

It did not matter that Tyvat was not your home.

Wherever Diluc was, that was where you’d return.

---xXxXxXxXxXx---

Extra: “What if they end up fighting?” Amber asked the other two as they walked down a side-street of the city.

“Then we’ll find out the moment it breaks out. Trust me.” Paimon replied. After all, your Anemo power would only serve to make any fire larger.

“They’ve both been in that pining puppy phase for so long, I doubt it’ll come down to that.” Venti added.

“500 Mora says they’ll be dating by the end of this week.” Amber bet.

“1,000 that they’ll be together by tonight!” Paimon countered.

“10,000 that they’ll be joined in every way by tonight.” Venti added, the mischievous tone not missed by either woman.

“You tone-deaf bard!” Paimon exclaimed as she slapped her hands over her red cheeks. “The traveler is more dignified than that!”

Amber had a hand on her chin, “Dating? Probably. But more than that…?”

Venti held out a hand to both, vying for both to shake one and accept the bet.

Nothing, but a couple of suckers.

Amber grumbled once when she heard the news, but otherwise excitedly congratulated you two on finally accepting your feelings. Paimon’s whine could probably be heard in a fifteen mile radius and Venti’s proud smile didn’t help either — accepting the easiest twenty thousand Mora he ever made.

And, just to gode the tiny guide a little more, Venti turned to Paimon in the middle of her complaining rant.

“Hehe.”

---xXxXxXxXxXx---

A/N:

The festival idea comes from Diluc’s story 1: “The winery holds festivities from time to time. These events are routinely attended by enthusiastic fathers, eager to introduce their wonderful daughters to the young and single winery master.”

6K notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

In between the city walls of dying dreams

This if for @buckyownsmylife 2k challenge. I chose the character Andy Barber and the AU ex-con.

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series); somnophilia, drugging, breeding, oral, fingering.

This is dark! (ex-con) Andy Barber x shy!reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: One night, you’re saved by the last person you expect, but you don’t know that he’s only saving you for himself.

Note: So I woke up at like 4am and couldn’t sleep. My biggest mistake during my insomniac fits are scrolling tumblr and then I see a writing challenge and decide, hey I hate myself enough to write 6k+ words for a tatted up Andy Barber so here we are.

Thanks to everyone for sticking around and putting up with me and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

The streets were shiny and slick as the rain pattered across the pavement and the eaves trickled loudly. The door of the convenience store chimed as you stepped out into the drizzle with a plastic bag hanging from your elbow. It was late and you were eager to be home after a ten-hour shift, your return delayed by your visit to the shop.

A man stood beneath the beaming ‘lotto’ sign and you kept your head low as you passed him. He kept his hood up but you recognized the grey sweater. You had waited behind him as he paid before you and offered only grumbles to the cashier. You weren’t too talkative yourself although the clerk recognized you from frequent visits. You only lived a block away and it was one of the only places open after your evening shifts.

Your boots splashed through shallow puddles as you passed by the alleyway you took in the daytime, keeping to the halo of the streetlights along the grimy stretch. You had no illusions about the neighbourhood and it often reminded you of its vices. If you kept quiet and faded into the background, it couldn’t eat you up. Living downtown meant that you had to learn to ignore the alarm bells in your head and just keep going. Be vigilant but don’t be bold.

As you cleared the mouth of the alley, you heard footsteps emerge behind you. You picked up your pace and gripped the strap of your purse slung across your torso. You pulled out your phone and angled it to see the shadow following you.

There was a shawarma shop on the next corner. You could hide out there until the creep got tired and left. It was your usual trick and the owner, Mo, was especially skilled at scaring away the rabble.

The man got closer and you gulped. You would have to start running if he got any closer. You thought of swinging at him with your plastic bag, the bottle of vitamin water would give him a good knock. You walked faster and squeezed your phone as you brought up the dial pad. There was no one you could call who would get there fast enough.

You tripped and felt the hand on your arm. You were spun back against the wall and you threw your bag around to hit your accoster. It bounced to the ground as it was batted away and the plastic bag tore in half. The bottle of vitamin water rolled over the curb and your can of soup was dented on impact. The candy bar was tangled in the white plastic and you were trapped against the brick.

“Wallet.” The man’s knife slid from the handle with a threatening whisper. “Phone!”

He wrestled your cell from your grasp as the blade kept you from resisting. He cut the strap of your purse and yanked it free from your body. Shit. That can of soup would likely be your only meal for the rest of the week… if he didn’t stab you anyway.

You readied yourself for the worst but it never came. You were suddenly released as the man was shoved away from you and the blade clattered to the ground. The stranger in the grey hood kicked his ass so he sprawled across the pavement and bent to grab the blade. He retracted it and booted the mugger a second time.

“Stay down.” He warned as he knelt to pick up the can of chicken and rice and the dark chocolate. He fished the vitamin water from the gutter but the seal had broke and it was mostly gone.

The mugger groaned and pushed himself to his hands and knees. The other man stood and pushed down on his back with his thick sole until the attacker was on his stomach.

“I’m gonna crush your ribs if you don’t get outta here. Now.” He jabbed the mugger’s side sharply. “Go!”

The man scrambled up to his feet and wheezed. He stumbled away and the other watched him until he disappeared. Finally, he turned to you and held out your goods. You took them shakily and shook your head at the vitamin water. He bent to grab your purse and your phone and held them out in turn.

“You okay?” He asked.

You nodded and took them shyly. You never said much to anyone but even if you tried, you expected your voice wouldn’t rise. You huffed at the broken strap of your bag and the scratch across the back of your phone. The screen protector was a spider web of cracks and you were thankful it wasn’t entirely fucked.

You clung to everything and warily sidestepped the man. You dropped the wet bottle in the stinking bin behind him and turned back. You looked at him and froze. He was taller and broader than the man who attacked you. He still held the knife and could do worse.

“Thank you,” you mumbled.

“It’s fine.” He slid the knife into his pocket. “He didn’t cut you?”

You shook your head again. Even as his face was shrouded in shadows, you couldn’t look directly at the man. You never really looked anyone in the face, you often spoke to their shoes or the void above their heads.

“You live far?” He asked and again he received a negative gesture. “You want me to walk you? Or I can watch?”

Your eyes widened at the spatter of rain against the concrete.

“Miss,” he said with exasperation.

“I’m okay. I’m okay.” You whispered as if convincing yourself too.

You slipped past him quickly and he stepped back with a surprised stammer. Your soles slapped the pavement as you rushed away from him. You couldn’t be sure he wasn’t as bad as the other man. He might follow you home and try to get even further.

But he didn’t pursue you. You didn’t hear his footfalls behind you, only the steady fall of rain.

“Good night,” you heard quietly as you got to the corner.

You didn’t look back and kept on around the bend. You sprinted all the way to your building at the end of the side street and fumbled for your keys at the door. You took a breath when you were inside at last. You were lucky but not many downtown were. That wouldn’t happen again.

🌆

After your close call, you didn’t return to the convenience store for several days and you only did so in the daylight. You had a rare day off and the spree of rain finally ceased. The sun beat down on the buildings and reflected hotly off the sidewalks. There wasn’t much to do, or much you could afford to do, so you didn’t do much in your free time.

You had to get out of your apartment, had to enjoy the nice day before you were once more trapped behind a desk. You walked up to the store and grabbed an ice cream bar from the freezer. You paid in change and claimed your treat with a tight-lipped smile.

As you approached the door, it swung outward and you retreated before you could collide with the other body. You muttered a sorry and stood aside as you waited for your path to clear.

“Hey,” the deep voice was familiar and sent a chill through you. “It’s you.”

You looked up at the man as the ice cream added to the cold flow through your veins. The same grey hoodie and broad shoulders. The man’s deep blue eyes shone beneath his tidy undercut and a thick beard trimmed his chiseled jaw. He was less sinister than the shadow you met days before.

Your eyes quickly flitted away as you remembered yourself and you looked at the door. You nodded as you cleared your throat. Speak, goddamnit.

“Thanks…again,” you croaked weakly. “S-sorry, I’m in your way.”

You tried to step around him but he was still firmly planted in front of the only exit.

“Wait,” he said gently, “Hey, I… don’t wanna seem weird but I was worried about you.”

“You don’t know me,” you said quietly to his shoes.

“Yeah, but that’s a scary thing to deal with.” His voice was firm but comforting, almost warm. Your eyes clung to the tattoo between his thumb and index finger.

“But…” you swallowed, your ice cream would start to melt soon. “You helped me. I’m okay now.”

“Well, good,” he said and finally moved. “I’m happy I could help.”

“Thanks.” You reached for the door but he beat you to it. He pushed it open and held it for you, forcing you to brush against him as you left.

“Be safe.” He called after you as the door chimed and you stumbled out onto the sidewalk, barely missing another pedestrian.

You crossed the street and stepped over the low hedges between the café and the pawn shop. The small park was oddly peaceful amid the chaos of the city and you didn’t mind sitting under the shade of the fragrant leaves. You sat at an empty picnic table and unwrapped the chocolate dipped bar.

You listened to the birds and watched the squirrels as you ate. You pulled out your phone but didn’t have enough data left to do much. You put it down as you licked clean the little wooden stick and shoved it back into the wrapper.

You flinched as a shadow blotted out the sun and you blinked up at the figure as it stopped before you.

“You again.” He smiled and your eyes fell back to the grass around his boots.

You crumpled the empty wrapper nervously and let out a nervous, “heh, yeah.”

“I’m not… following you.” He said and chuckled. “I know we kinda keep running into each other but I swear, I’m not some creep.”

You nodded and watched his fingers straighten. The ink on his knuckles made you nervous.

“Can I sit?” He asked.

You looked beside you as he pointed to the bench and you shrugged. “Could I stop you?” You uttered.

He turned and sat beside you. He took a breath and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a pack of smokes. He opened it and offered you one. You shook your head and he closed the carton, tucking it away without taking one himself.

“I won’t smoke around ya then,” he said. “I’m Andy.”

He held out his hand and you eyed it. Your lashes fluttered nervously and you squeezed the garbage. He waited patiently. You felt the heat on your neck and you reached to shake his hand. He gripped yours firmly and his strength made your wits flurry. You gave him your name and looked down at your lap as he let go of you.

“I don’t blame you not wanting to talk to strangers. Especially around here.”

You stayed quiet and twisted the wrapper around the stick. Your leg jiggled and he ran his nails over his jeans.

“Maybe you’re just shy and that’s okay too. I just thought, well, there’s a lot of shady characters around here and it’s good to have someone lookin’ out for ya.” He scratched his beard and leaned back against the table. “I just wanted to say that if you see me around and you need someone to scare off the other hounds, I’m more than happy to give them a good bite.”

You pushed your tongue against your cheek and stilled your leg. You nodded.

“Alright,” he stood and the whole table shifted with his weight, “Now, I’ve said my peace. You take care of yourself.”

“Thanks,” you wrung your hands around the bending popsicle stick entwined with the wrapped.

“Oh, and… I think I grabbed the right one.” He reached into his hoodie pocket and you noticed the awkward shape jammed into the pocket. He revealed the bottle and placed it on the table. “I’ll see you around.”

You stared at the label. It was the right flavour. You looked up and watched him head out along the path. He unzipped his sweater as he went on and pushed his hands into the pockets. You pinched your lip with your teeth and took the bottle of water. Maybe there were nice people in the city or maybe you were just that pathetic.

🌆

Back at your building, you were relieved to be out of the sun and the stifling humidity. It would be a rough summer and your box fan would do little to stave off the heat.

After your run-in with your hero, you decided to take a walk and finished the entire bottle in your casual stroll around the paths and the little creek on the other side of the park. It was later than you thought when you got back and fought with the jammed key slot.

You opened up the inner door of the lobby at last and grunted with frustration. Not only did the slot threaten to bend your key but the door was heavier than you. You climbed the first short flight of stairs and grabbed the old banister to continue your trip up the winding case.

You stopped as the platform above creaked and as another resident came down with a basket of clothes in hand. You stayed at the bottom to let them pass but as they descended, they stopped a step above you. Your name had your head up and your eyes, for the second time that day, met two stunning blue irises.

“I didn’t know you lived in this building,” Andy said as he cradled his laundry and turned to face you. “Small world.”

“I didn’t--” your words dwindled and you focused on the lip of the basket instead of his face. You didn’t talk to your neighbours, not since the old man had threatened to choke you in the lobby.

“I just moved in.” He said. “My first place since… well, the first place I’ve had to myself.”

“Oh,” you breathed and picked at your frilly shirt.

“Well, let me just get out of your way,” he angled away from the stairs. “I’ll probably see you around. Don’t hesitate to say hi.”

You nodded and gripped the railing as you continued up the stairs. As you reached the platform, you glanced back and he was still watching you. He smiled and finally turned away, heading towards the laundry room as he began to whistle. You climbed the next flight and took a breath.

Coincidences happened but you just couldn’t handle so many at once. Andy had been nothing but nice, he saved you from being robbed and he even replaced what he didn’t owe you. You just couldn’t believe it.

People could be good, they could be kind, just not in the city.

🌆

Your run-ins with Andy continued. You passed him in the hall several times before you realised he lived on the same floor. Your suspicions were confirmed as you grabbed your take-out and saw him unlocking the door only a couple away from your own. You even managed to drop your fliers on his boots when you were grabbing your mails.

Each time, he was friendly and each time, you barely said a word. He was a curious man. His tattoos labelled him as dangerous but his demeanour was welcoming and compassionate. He was entirely off putting and you lived in the city long enough to be wary. And you were shy enough to be evasive.

You were tired after another late shift. The bus ride had you yawning by the time you reached your stop and your short walk to the building was less than enjoyable as the usual weirdos were out with the full moon. You shoved your key into the slot and swore under your breath as it refused to turn.

Finally, it pivoted and you yanked on the handle as the door behind you swished open and closed. A hand grabbed the side of the door and helped pull it back all the way. You peeked over your shoulder as Andy held it and you thanked him with a squeak before heading through.

He followed you a few steps back as you started up the stairs.

“You work late a lot.” He said from behind you.

“Yeah…” you said as you turned up the next flight.

“You work far?”

“Not very,” you replied as you turned again.

“Yeah, I used to be on nights and that was hell.” He humoured as you pressed on.

Your toe caught on the lip of the top step and you went hurtling forward. You tried to catch yourself and cried out as you landed on your wrist and felt an agonizing twinge. You hissed and turned over, holding your arm as it throbbed.

“Shit, are you okay?” He asked as he stooped to look you over.

Your purse had landed in the corner of the platform and your flat had slipped off in your descent. Embarrassed, you lowered your arm and nodded. “I’m fine. Just… hopeless.”

“Here,” he took your shoe from the step and slid it onto your foot. “Hey, it happens. I almost did the same thing the other day.”

He paused and you felt him staring. You looked him in the face nervously but his eyes weren’t on yours. You felt a tickle as he pulled your skirt back to your knee. You hadn’t realised how far up it had flown.

“Let me see your arm,” he said as you rested it on your leg.

“No, it’s fine, I--” You waved him away with your good arm and but he took your other gently and bent to look closer.

He tutted as he touched the flesh and you winced.

“It’s swelling,” he felt firmly along your wrist, “I don’t feel a break but a sprain is a serious thing.”

“How do you--” you stopped yourself. “I’ll be okay.”

“You need to wrap it.” He let go of your arm and stood.

He grabbed your other elbow and helped you to your feet. He stepped up onto the platform and scooped up your purse.

“You have something to wrap it? You’ll need the proper support.”

You shook your head. “It’s not that serious.”

“It is. You landed on it with all your weight. I’m surprised you didn’t break something.” He insisted. “I have something, I’ll wrap it for you.”

“Really, I can…” you voice fizzled as you tried to steady yourself. “I can do it myself.”

“But will you?” He kept his hand on your arm and guided you up the last steps to your floor. “Please, for my own peace of mind, let me help.”

You stared at the stained carpet as you stopped beside him. “Why?”

“Why are you so afraid of me?” He asked.

“I’m not-- I…” You frowned. “I just don’t know you. I-I-I’m just quiet.”

“I’ve tried to know you so why don’t you let me?”

You drew away from him and watched his hand drop. You stared at the tattoos and he curled his fingers.

“Oh, yeah, well, I guess I can start by being honest.” He sighed, “Yes, I’ve been to prison. I’ve been out for a year now, I’m finally off parole, I have a job, and I’m working to live a clean life. Is that it? You think I’m some goon?”

“No, I…” you looked at the floor again. “I don’t care about that. I’m just… I don’t know what to say to people so I don’t say very much.” You swayed nervously on your feet. “And no one ever really tried to hear me anyway.”

“Well, I can do the talking or we can both just say nothing, but please, you’re wrist, an untreated sprain can do a lot more damage.”

You tilted your head back and forth and another stab of pain went through your wrist. You nodded and looked to the wall. “O-Okay.”

“Alright,” he exhaled and nudged you lightly as he urged you down the hall.

He stopped at his door and you waited for him to unlock it. You stared inside as he pushed it open. You didn’t really know him and what you did know wasn’t reassuring. He was a convict and you were about to be completely alone with him.

“Or I can grab the bandage and meet you at yours?” He offered.

“No, no, I’m… tired. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he said.

You entered and he followed. He put your purse on the small square table beside the shoe rack and you stepped out of your flats. He bent to untie his boots and left them beside your shoes. He urged you on and you looked around at the surprisingly cozy apartment. It was tidier than yours and smelled like fresh linen.

“I’ll be right back,” he gestured you to the living room and went down the short hall to closet at the very end.

You ventured past the couch as you looked around. There was a degree hung on the wall and you went closer to read it. You heard him searching the closet as you raised your brows at the framed certificate.

“Got it,” he entered and you turned away. “Ah, yeah, they disbarred me when I was charged but ah, well, it’s something to work towards. The old me.”

You bit your cheek as you stepped away from the wall and he beckoned you to him. He had you sit on the couch with your arm up as he pulled a chair close. He unwounded the beige bandage and placed the end against your wrist. He began to wind it around your arm and hooked it between your thumb and index. You watched him work and it calmed you. He pinned the loose end and placed your hand atop the cushioned arm of the couch.

“There.” He said as he sat back. “How’s it feel now?”

“A little better,” you pulled your hand into your lap. “Thank you.”

You stood awkwardly and played with the pleat of your skirt. “I should probably go.”

“If you want to or… I have some wine. It might help with the pain.”

“Oh?” You weren’t much of a drinker but you didn’t want to be rude.

“It was a gift from my parole officer since I can legally drink now. He said it better last me the next year but I haven’t even opened it. Don’t really have a reason to but… so you want a glass or should we say good night?”

You scrunched your lips and thought. You felt as if you owed him; for the night he chased away the mugger and then the park and now this.

“Uh, sure, but just a little. I don’t drink much.”

“No problem,” he stood and you sat back down.

He went to the kitchen and you listened to the clink of dishes and click of the cabinets. You looked down at your wrist and moved your fingers. Your wrist hurt a lot but the bandage alleviated some of it.

“I realised I don’t have any wine glasses,” he said as he approached, “So, I hope you don’t mind wine in a mug.”

He handed you a cup and sat down with his own. Yours had flowers around the rim and his read ‘Best Dad Ever.’

“Got ‘em from the Good Will,” he chuckled, “I’ve been meaning to replace them but you know, work.”

“Yeah,” you raised the cup and tasted the bitter red. You wrinkled your nose and he gave a low snort.

“Yeah, I never really liked cabernet but it was a gift,” he said and took a drink himself. “So what kinda work do you do?”

“I’m just a temp.” You tried another mouthful and nearly choked.

“Like office work?”

“Yeah, a floating secretary. Nothing special.”

“Mmm, yeah, I got a job down at the factory. Another favour from my parole officer but it’s not bad work.”

Your lips slanted as you thought. You didn’t say much but your face was good at filling the silence.

“What? Go on, ask it.” He leaned forward with elbows on his knees as he took another gulp.

You mirrored him and swallowed the sour wine. You wiped your lips with your sleeve and crossed your legs. “You said you were a lawyer before, isn’t it kinda… I dunno.”

“It’s different but it’s better than prison.”

“Yeah, I guess it would be.”

You looked down as silence laced the air and you didn’t know what else to do but finish the wine. You could leave then. You drained the cup and set it on the round table next to the arm of the couch. You blinked as you felt the buzz of the alcohol already.

“It might just be me, but that was strong,” you said.

“No, it is,” he put his mug down too, “like thirteen percent or something. I think maybe he was trying to sabotage me.”

You tried to laugh but it came out an awkward sniffle. You tapped your foot as you tried to think of what to do or say.

“Well, thank you but I think I should--” You stood so fast you got dizzy and nearly fell back as you held yourself up against the couch arm. “Whoo, okay, I’m going.”

“Yeah, alright,” he stood too. “It is late, I guess.”

“Mhmm,” you focused on your footsteps as you passed him and he followed you to the entryway. You took your purse and faced him. “Thank you.” You held up your wrist. “I owe you.”

“Well, I wasn’t gonna say it myself but… you can repay me with one little thing.”

“Oh?” You pushed the strap of your purse up your shoulder as you slid your feet into your flats and swayed just a little.

“Finish the wine with me. I’m free on Saturday, we could order dinner and maybe watch a movie.”

You pouted in surprise and your eyebrows shot up. “Well, I…”

“Friends.” He said quickly, “That’s all. You pick the movie and I’ll bring the cabernet.”

You sucked in your lip and thought. He hadn’t done anything wrong to you. He had done more than he should have for you. And you were being stupid. He was older than you, certainly. The short greys poking out at his temples betrayed at least forty years and he was just another person trying to get by.

“Okay, I can do Saturday. I work till five, just a half-shift.” You explained. “Should I meet you here or?”

“Yeah, we can do it here.” He touched your shoulder and his hand slowly slipped down your arm. He reached past you and turned the knob and pulled open the door. You moved closer to avoid it hitting you and smelled his woodsy cologne. “Have a good night.”

“You too,” you backed through the door clumsily, “thanks.”

“Saturday.” He pointed at you and then his temple, “Don’t forget.”

“I’ll… try.”

You left him and felt him watching you until you reached your door. You didn’t look back as you let yourself in and locked it behind you. You heard his own shut and let out a breath. What were you doing?

🌆

You couldn’t forget your promise to Andy. You never made plans. You were content to be alone and watch old reality tv shows and forget about your responsibilities. You hoped instead that he might forget and spare you another awkward encounter. You were never a social butterfly and conversation was like pulling teeth. It wasn’t that you didn’t long for companionship, it was that it was so impossibly difficult.

But he was waiting for you. As you passed his door at 5:46, he opened it and nearly had you jumping off your feet.

“I didn’t mean to scare you, I’m sorry.” He said, “Just a friendly reminder.”

“Yeah, I just need to get changed,” you fidgeted, “fifteen minutes, okay?”

“Take your time,” he smiled, “any thoughts on a movie yet?”

“No,” you cringed, “sorry.”

“Go on. I’ll be waiting. You can let yourself in.” He closed the door and you went onward to your own.

You pulled out your most comfortable jeans and a shirt that wasn’t too formal or casual. You changed and fixed your hair a little and switched your socks for less sweaty ones. You slid on some shoes and reluctantly left your apartment. You went to his and knocked before you dared to enter.

“So, uh, I know I said take out,” he called from the kitchen as you inhaled the scent of garlic, “but I got a bit carried away.” “Andy,” you kicked your shoes onto the rack and crept down the hall. “You didn’t have to--”

“I haven’t cooked like this in ages. Oh, and,” he turned as you peered in from the doorway and turned back with two wine glasses poured to the brim, “I got real glasses.”

“Wow, uh…” You took the stem and carefully held it so as not to spill.

“So how was work?”

“Slow.” You answered honestly.

“Saturday’s usually are,” he turned back and stirred the frying pan. “I’m almost done so why don’t you go look for something to watch and I’ll be out with dinner.”

“Okay…” you voice trailed away nervously. He wore a tee that exposed the rest of the tats that stretched up his muscular arms. You couldn’t help but stare at the skull that seemed to look back at you.

You went to the couch and sat in the corner. You sipped the wine and it still burned your nostrils and tongue. You set the glass down carefully and turned on the television with the remote.

You curled your legs up under you habitually and flipped through the titles. No rom coms, that’s awkward, and no horror movies or he’d pull that old high school trick. Maybe a war movie? Oh wait, that one’s about lawyers, that would be good. Or it might make him sad. Hmmm.

You settled on a superhero movie and waited with the intro paused. He appeared shortly with two plates and set them down on the coffee table as he sat beside you on the couch and pulled it closer.

“Nothing too special. I made my own spaghetti sauce though, so much better than the jarred stuff.” He combed his hair back as he set out your cutler with a napkin. “What are watching?”

“I’ve never seen this one,” you said as you hit play and the title flashed up, “Have you?”

“Oh, I don’t really watch that stuff but hey, never too old to start.” He picked up his fork and leaned forward. “Hope you enjoy. I might be a bit rusty. My-- People tell me I put too much garlic in everything.”

“I’m sure it’s great,” you pushed your legs over the edge of the couch and sat forward. You took your cutlery and carefully spun the noodles.

You were thankful for the loud crashes of the movie’s opening scene as it meant you could eat and not have to talk. The spaghetti was good and compared to your usual quick and easy meals in a box or can, it was gourmet. When you finished, you wiped your mouth and took a long gulp of the wine without thinking.

You sat back as you grew engrossed with the superheroes origin story and nearly forgot about Andy until he got up to clear the dishes. You offered to pause and he bid you to keep on. He was back in a moment and leaned back beside you. You squirmed and reached for your wine again. The taste was less stringent with each sip.

As the hero readied to face the villain, you emptied the glass and hugged yourself as a warmth glowed in your veins. You felt a hand on your leg as your eyelids drooped and you slumped into the couch. You could still feel the fingers as your fly was unzipped and you groaned as your limbs would not obey you.

The noise of the final battle faded and a heavy weight settled between your legs as tickles lined your neck and jaw, a final hungry kiss on your lips sealing your consciousness.

🌆

Andy’s POV

The wine was potent but Andy was sure to add a little extra kick. Her nerves kept her drinking the dark cabernet and she couldn’t taste the crushed pills through the acidity. He could taste the fermented grapes on her lips though and she moaned beneath him as he rolled her shirt up her torso.

He sat back to make sure she really was out. He snapped his fingers in front of her face and tapped her cheek. She mumbled but only lolled her head. He was done being patient with her. She was so shy it was enraging. He did everything he was supposed to do and she still wouldn’t even look at him. Oh, but she would feel him.

He ran his hands along her figure and basked in the warmth of her skin. How long had it been since he’d felt a woman beneath him? He didn’t like to think like that; didn’t like to remember the past and all he’d lost. He was trying to rebuild and this was the first step.

His hands settled on her stomach. It wasn’t flat and it was bit squishy, he liked that. He closed his eyes and pictured how it would grow. He would be a father again, and a husband. He would be the man he once was.

He shuddered and opened his eyes. He stripped her shirt off completely and bent to catch her nipple in his mouth as it spilled from her bra. He reached around her to unhook the bra entirely and yanked it from under her. She twitched but could not wake as he sucked at her tit and then the other.

He recalled that night on the street when he chased off that other man. It wasn’t the first time he saw her, in fact he had followed her to the store. She didn’t notice him slip in behind her or that he paid for a magazine he wouldn’t read. He remembered how he resisted that night. How he wanted to put her against that wall and finish it then and there.

Her pants slid down her legs easily as he backed off the couch. Her panties tasted like her as he pressed his mouth between her legs. He slung her knees over his shoulders and nuzzled her through the cotton until she soaked them entirely. He pulled them aside and continued to coax her. She came as a ripple flowed through her body and he drank up her unconscious excitement.

He tore her panties down her legs and looked down at her with heavy, hungry breaths. He read that women were more likely to conceive if they were aroused. He swiped his shirt over his head and undid his jeans impatiently. He was incredibly hard and he needed her around him.

He bent her legs, one leaned against the back of the couch as the other hung over the side. He dragged his fingers along her cunt and growled. He shoved his fingers into her and spread them. She was so tight it made him throb.

He pulled out and grabbed his dick. He pressed his tip against her clit and rubbed circles around it. She muttered again and turned her head but he wasn’t afraid of her waking. Even if she did, she couldn’t stop him.

He positioned himself against her entrance and pushed his tip just inside. He gasped and bit his tongue. He could’ve cum at that. He snapped his hips against her and her whole body jerked as he reached his limit. She gurgled and he thrust again.

She clenched around him, her walls hungry for him. He rocked his hips into her and watched her squirm, her eyes flitting back and forth behind her eyelids. He bent over her and pulled her arms above her, holding her hands together against the arm of the couch. He fucked her hard as the entire couch jolted beneath their bodies.

“You like that?” He whispered in her ear. “Huh, this is what you wanted. What you were so afraid of.”

He grunted and bucked even faster. Her body reacted to his and as she came, her juices added to the noise of his intrusion. His flesh slapped against hers loudly as the movie’s effect faded into the background. He grabbed her chin and watched her sleeping face as he pounded into her.

“You want it. You want me. You want me to fill you up.” He snarled. “You want my baby inside of you. You want to grow for me.” He sucked on his tongue as his body began to tense. “I’m going to fuck my baby into you, you bitch.”

He buried his head against her neck and bit into her flesh as he came. He shook on top of her as he emptied inside of her and slowed. He whimpered as he stopped his hip and lingered inside of her. He sighed and panted as he fell limp over her.

“Don’t worry, we’re not done.” He promised her deafened ears.

🌆

You were sore and stiff. You were trapped and suffocating. As you rose back to the surface, you felt the weight over you and began to panic. Your thighs were raw but numbed and your core felt hollow. You tried to remember more than the taste of wine but it was all a fog.

You opened your eyes and felt along the shoulder against your chin. The tattooed skin smelled of sweat and you could barely move beneath Andy. As you tried, you felt him inside of you and squeaked. Then the real panic began and you couldn’t breathe at all.

You beat on his shoulders and he grumbled. You felt him growing inside of you and you flailed against him.

“Please, please, get off.”

He shook his head and raised it slowly. He sat up but brought you with him as he kept you around his hardening dick. He held you in his lap and watched you struggle with his tired eyes.

“What’s the matter, honey?” he asked languidly.

“What did you--What are you doing?” You shoved against him and yelped as he tilted into you from below.

“What did I do? Oh, you don’t remember?”

“Don’t remember? Let me go! Please.” You whined.

“Come on, don’t be like this. You asked for it, honey.”

“Wha--”

“Oh, you really are a lightweight,” he whistled, “you said you wanted me. You practically begged me to fuck you.”

“I didn’t-- I--”

“Well, what do you remember?” He purred as he subtly rocked into you. “Huh?”

“I don’t--I can’t remember.”

“You really going to do this to me? Act like you never wanted it? Like I didn’t try to resist you, honey, but you wanted it so bad.”

“No, I…” you stared at the tattoo across his chest.

“Look at me,” he gripped your jaw and your eyes flicked up to his. He thrust into you as far as he could and you yelped, “Tell me you don’t want this.”

He bit his lip as he continued to fuck you. Your thighs clenched around his but you couldn’t escape his grasp.

“You look at me when I fuck you, huh? Yeah, look at me.”

You covered your face and he pulled your hands away. He twisted your arms behind your back and sped up as he bound you against him.

“It’s alright, honey, I already filled you up nice and good,” he cooed, “This. Is. Just. For. Good. Measure.”

He spoke between shallow breaths and your own heartbeat picked up. Your eyes welled as you couldn’t resist the waves and you came with a pathetic mewl. He pulled you close and turned his face up to kiss you. He nibbled your lip and growled as he came inside of you.

You closed your eyes and waited for him to stop. When he did, he wouldn’t let you go. You fell forward and hung your head beside his as a sob lodged in your throat.

“It’s alright. It’s what I want.” He caressed your lower back, “You’ll want it too. You just need time.”

#andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #shy!reader #fic #one shot #dark fic #dark!fic #challenge #writing challenge #defending jacob

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bluejayblueskies · 3 years

Text

an ill-fitting definition

rating: M words: 4.3k relationships: jongeorgie, jontim, jonmartin, background wtgfs additional tags: canon compliant, pre-canon, scottish safehouse period, canon asexual character, fluff, kissing, implied sexual content, rumors and misconceptions

written for weeks two/three of @archivalpride for the prompts identity and doubt!

cw for misconceptions about asexuality, assumptions made about somebody’s sexuality, rumors and outing somebody without their knowledge, non-explicit/implied sexual content, mention of canonical character death, mention of canonical stalking and paranoia, gossip (including of the sexual nature), food, very mild blood, mild internalized acephobia

ao3 link in source

It’s three weeks and two days after they began dating, when Georgie picks up Jon’s hand where it’s clasped in hers and asks with plain curiosity in her voice, so does the ring, y’know, mean anything?, that Georgie hears the word asexual cross Jon’s lips for the first time.

It’s not a word she’s unfamiliar with; she’s run in enough LGBTQ spaces in her time in uni that she has a good idea of the breadth of identities that are out there. She rubs her thumb across Jon’s ring and thinks, in the voice of the gender and equality training instructor with sharp red heels and a “fun” black dress who’d stood in front of the seminar she’d been mandated to take for one of her courses:

Asexuality. A lack of sexual attraction. An aversion or repulsion to sexual activities.

It had been a small word on a large black-and-white slide, crammed in next to aromanticism and overcrowded by a myriad of other sexual identities discussed at length. It had been… quite a comprehensive training, Georgie thinks as she quits fidgeting with Jon’s ring and instead threads their fingers together. For a moment, she considers asking what he means anyway, but she quickly dismisses the thought. She wants to be supportive, and as Jon looks at her with open, trusting eyes and a faint smile, she decides that she knows enough. She doesn’t want to make it awkward, and with things like these, she’s found that asking Jon to explain his feelings in plain terms can be… well, awkward is certainly a word for it. Best just not to bring it up, she decides.

Still, she feels the need to ask, “Can I kiss you?” because the red no sex sign blinking on and off in her head is frustratingly vague on what, exactly, is contained within that stipulation. When Jon voices his assent, she tips her head up and presses a quick kiss to his chin before kissing him on the lips, wiping the disgruntled look off them.

So yes to kissing, she thinks, tucking that away next to no sex. Yes kissing, no sex. Yes holding hands, she adds as she squeezes Jon’s hand in hers and he smiles at her, warm and soft, that special side of Jon that she only sees on occasion. No pet names, she adds a week later when she tries out sweetheart and Jon’s nose wrinkles with displeasure. No foot rubs, when Jon swats at her and says, between giggles, that he’s awfully ticklish. Yes back rubs. Yes cuddling. No PDA. No touching with wet or sticky hands. Yes brushing hair.

That’s as far as she gets before, one year and two months after she begins dating Jonathan Sims, she stops. After which point she stops keeping track, because, well. There’s really no point anymore, is there?

“I’m sorry,” Jon says, burying his head in his hands.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Tim says quickly, holding his hands in the air in a placating gesture. He scoots a few inches away from Jon on the couch for good measure, unsure just how much space Jon needs right now. “It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize—I should apologize. I should have asked first.”

“It’s just—” Jon makes a frustrated noise, and when he takes his hands away his cheeks are dark and he won’t meet Tim’s eyes. “It’s complicated.”

“It’s okay,” Tim repeats, watching with a twisting feeling in his stomach as Jon apparently notices that the button of his trousers is still undone and quickly goes to redo it. His eyes follow the movements of Jon’s hands automatically, and just as automatically, he notes the distinct lack of a tent in the front of Jon’s trousers. The same… cannot be said for his own. Particularly after nearly twenty minutes of kissing, which Tim had very much enjoyed.

Christ, had Jon been uncomfortable with that as well? All in a rush, Tim says, “Was the kissing bad too?” Then, he winces—fuck, that sounded accusatory—and adds, “It- it’s okay if it was, I just- I didn’t know, and I don’t want to do something that makes you uncomfortable, Jon.”

“No, the- the kissing was fine, it’s just...” Jon makes an aborted motion with his hands, like he’s trying and failing to find the words.

“... complicated?” Tim supplies.

Jon nods mutely.

“That’s okay,” Tim says, and he finds that he means it. “We don’t have to do anything more than kissing if you don’t want to.”

“I- I don’t…” Jon worries his bottom lip between his teeth. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, like he’s searching for the right words, the crease in his forehead deepening every moment he fails to find them. Finally, he lets out a long, labored breath, pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers, and says, “Yes, that… that might be best.”

Tim studies Jon’s face. It’s pinched and a bit stiff, like Jon would very much like to crawl out of his skin or melt into a puddle and disappear. “You sure?” he feels compelled to ask, placing a hand carefully on Jon’s knee. “You, uh. You seem a bit unsure.”

Jon sits there a moment more, spine straight and rigid, before melting slightly against Tim’s hand, his face slipping into something more relaxed but no less unhappy. “Yes.” He hesitates a moment, then says, a bit stiltedly, “I’m, um. I’m asexual. Since we’re already talking about this, I… I may as well get that out in the open as well.”

Oh. A few pieces slot into place, and Tim says with perhaps a bit more enthusiasm than necessary, “Oh. Why didn’t you tell—?” He cuts himself off and offers Jon a sheepish smile. “Sorry, sorry. That was rude of me. Thank you for telling me.”

“We’re dating,” Jon says bluntly. “It was going to come up eventually.”

“Still.” Tim shrugs, then reaches for Jon’s hand and holds it tightly in his. “Thanks.” He hesitates only a moment before leaning forward and pressing a quick kiss to Jon’s nose. Jon makes a disgruntled noise, which Tim thinks is adorable. Then, because it feels appropriate, he says, “Y’know, Danny… Danny was asexual. Aromantic too, actually. We had a big talk about it a few years ago where he sort of… laid it all out for me.” No sex, no romance, no thank you, had been the overall gist of it. Tim makes a new box for Jon and fills it in with the words no sex, yes romance, it’s complicated.

“Oh,” Jon says quietly, with that same sort of sadness in his eyes that he gets every time Tim mentions Danny, something much gentler than pity and significantly less cloying. If Tim notices the faint discomfort that accompanies it, something that whispers that isn’t my definition of asexuality, we’re not the same, you don’t understand if one were to listen closely enough, he doesn’t let on.

Tim does, however, notice the discomfort in Jon’s eyes—now mixed with anger—when two years, six months, and seven days later, he accuses Tim of murder. But by then, their days of hand-holding and nose-kissing are far, far behind them.

“Maybe he just needs to get laid,” Melanie says with a groan, lying on Georgie’s couch and staring at the ceiling. The Admiral is curled up on her lap, purring contentedly. She scratches absentmindedly under his chin.

“What, Jon?” Georgie appears in Melanie’s field of vision, wielding a damp wooden spoon and frowning.

“No. No.” Melanie shakes her head emphatically. “Martin. He’s been all… sulky lately. I think he’s still upset that Jon came to me instead of him for help, but I don’t know why he has to be all… touchy about it.”

“Ah. Well, you know, he is a bit hung up on Jon. At least, according to you.”

“I don’t see how that’s my problem,” Melanie says grumpily. “Besides, didn’t you say that Jon went on about Martin, like, all the time? Sounds like he’s got it bad as well. Maybe they could just… y’know.”

“Melanie.”

“What?” Melanie tries to shoot Georgie a glare, but it’s obstructed by the back of the couch. “I’m on my last nerve, Georgie!”

“I know, honey. But Jon’s really not… well, he’s not very open about these sorts of things. Getting him to talk about his feelings was like pulling teeth when we were together.”

“It still baffles me that you used to date.”

“He’s very sweet when you get to know him!” There’s a pause, a few clatters from the kitchen. “Besides, even if he and Martin got around to talking, Jon… well, he doesn’t.”

Melanie frowns. “Doesn’t what?”

“Have sex.”

“Really?” Melanie sits up, disturbing the Admiral, who lets out an irritated mrpp before adjusting himself accordingly and curling back up on her lap. “So when you were together…?”

Georgie shakes her head. “Nope. Never.”

“Huh.” Melanie thinks for a moment. “Is he like… religious or something?”

Georgie chuckles. “Jon? No, not at all. He’s asexual.”

“Isn’t that like… that thing that sponges are? Where they self-reproduce?”

“Seriously?”

Melanie scowls at the incredulous look Georgie’s giving her. “What? I’m not being a- a dick, I’ve just never heard of it before.”

“You were a YouTuber. Your job was to be internet famous.”

“Okay, now you’re just making fun of me.”

Georgie shoots Melanie a grin. “Sorry. Basically, it means that Jon doesn’t do sex. Like… at all. He just… doesn’t.”

“Huh,” Melanie says again.

“Yeah.” Georgie turns back to the stove. “Now, come here. Tell me if there’s too much salt?”

“Sorry Admiral,” Melanie whispers as she deposits him onto the floor and crosses the room to wrap her arms around Georgie’s waist from behind and take the bite of sauce on the spoon Georgie holds out for her. “Mm, tastes great. As always.”

And in the back of her mind, Melanie adds another line to the section labeled Jonathan Sims and writes, with careful handwriting, he doesn’t.

Although… according to Georgie, Jon doesn’t.

Martin pauses the tape and rubs his hands over his eyes. His cheeks are burning red, and he takes a few minutes to just breathe.

Doesn’t what? Doesn’t date? Doesn’t kiss? Doesn’t—

Martin stops that train of thought before it goes any further, the flush on his face growing in intensity. It’s none of my business, he tells himself as he ejects the tape and turns it over in his hands a few times before sliding it back into the small box it had come from.

He still can’t help but think about it. He thinks about it before the Unknowing, when Jon hesitates just a moment before wrapping him in a tight hug and whispering, I… I’ll be back, Martin. Then we can talk. He thinks about it when Jon’s in his coma, when Martin sits at his bedside and loses himself in daydreams and what-ifs. He thinks about it when Jon’s hand is clasped in his and he’s leading Martin out of cloying white fog and sea-salt air, his shirt speckled with bits of dark liquid that Martin tries to pretend isn’t blood. He thinks about it on the way to the safehouse, Jon leaning against his side, Martin’s hand clasped firmly in his.

He thinks about it a lot, in the confines of the wooden walls that let in the growing chill of the Scottish countryside.

Jon doesn’t.

He knows what Jon does. Jon makes him breakfast most days, eggs and toast and sometimes waffles, which Martin’s always considered a guilty pleasure but that he’s had more times in the past week and a half than he’s had for the past ten years. Jon puts his head on Martin’s shoulder when they sit on the couch and read, flipping through the dusty novels they’d found tucked in cardboard boxes underneath the bed that Jon had wrinkled his nose at but has been slowly making his way through nevertheless. Jon clings to Martin like his life depends on it when they sleep, and Martin will wake in the morning with one arm slung across his chest, a leg between his, and a sizeable portion of hair tickling at his nose.

And, nine days into their stay, Jon smiles at Martin as he shuffles into the kitchen in the morning, stands on his toes, and presses a soft kiss to Martin’s lips.

“Um,” Martin says eloquently, still half-asleep and trying to process what he’s 98% sure is their first kiss. He’d be 100% sure except for the fact that Jon kissed him like it was nothing, like it was easy, like it was something they do every morning.

The smile slips from Jon’s face, and he looks nervous. “I- I’m sorry, I should have asked first—”

“No, no, it’s- it’s okay,” Martin hastens to say, taking one of Jon’s hands in his and squeezing gently. “Just- just surprised, that’s all. I, um. I wasn’t sure if you wanted to kiss me, given that we haven’t…” He gestures absently, his face heating up. Stop talking, Martin. “Yeah,” he finishes lamely.

“Oh,” Jon says with a frown. “I… apologize for giving you that impression. I- I love you, Martin—I have no problems with kissing you.”

Warmth courses through Martin, as it always does when Jon tells him that he loves him. It all feels so unreal sometimes that he’s here, with Jon, away from it all and living in quiet domesticity. “Oh,” he says, face flushed. “A- all right, then. Great!”

“Great,” Jon echoes.

“Just- just thought maybe you didn’t—”

Martin clamps his mouth shut, face heating up more, this time in embarrassment. Shut up, Martin.

Jon raises an eyebrow. “Didn’t… what?”

“Um.” Martin rubs a hand across the back of his neck. “Kiss?”

Jon looks at Martin blankly. “Oh. Well, I- I do.”

“Right, yeah, I- I put that together. When we, um. You know.”

Jon looks amused. “Kissed?”

“Yep, that,” Martin squeaks out.

They look at each other for a moment before dissolving into giggles. Jon presses another kiss to Martin’s lips and finishes making the waffles and kisses Martin again when he hands Jon his tea, and it’s really quite lovely indeed.

So Martin adds Jon kisses to his mental list of Jon does and finds a sole remainder on the list of Jon doesn’t. And it’s fine with him, he decides, if Jon doesn’t want to have sex. He just wants Jon, in whatever way Jon will have him.

Jon doesn’t do sex, he thinks as he kisses Jon goodnight.

So, three days later, when they’re on the couch and they’ve kissed until Martin is red-faced and breathless and Jon pulls back with a pinched expression on his face, Martin assumes—with hot embarrassment coursing through him—that he’s somehow gone too far and strayed into sex territory and made Jon uncomfortable.

Then, Jon says with cheeks dark and eyes focused resolutely on Martin’s chest, “Martin, would… would you like to move to the bedroom?” and Martin’s thoughts grind to a halt.

“Sorry, what?” is all he can think to say.

Jon’s cheeks grow incrementally darker. “I am asking,” he says slowly, like the words are clunky and unwieldy in his mouth, “if you would like to have sexual intercourse. With me, of course, I- I hope that was implied.”

Martin’s aware that his mouth is quite literally hanging open in shock. He closes it quickly before swallowing and saying, “I… yeah, Jon, I- I’d love that, but I thought you—”

He clamps his mouth shut again, a touch too late. Jon’s forehead creases in confusion and he says, “I what?”

Martin hems and haws for a moment before biting the bullet and saying, all in a rush, “I thought you didn’t like sex.”

Jon’s frown deepens. “What? Why?”

And god, Martin doesn’t want to admit that he’s been thinking about office gossip for nearly a year, but he’s dug his grave—he may as well lie in it. He sighs, worries his hands on his lap, and says, “I… may have listened to a tape where Melanie said that Georgie said that you… didn’t.”

Jon looks at Martin blankly for a moment before his expression flattens into something that’s equal parts irritated and resigned. “Ah. Right. That… that makes sense, I suppose.”

“I’m sorry, Jon,” Martin says emphatically, placing his hand atop Jon’s and squeezing. “I- I didn’t mean to hear it; I was listening to the statements and it was just there.”

“No, it’s… it’s not your fault.” Jon sighs and rubs a hand across his eyes. “If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine.”

“What?”

Jon makes an aborted, dismissive gesture with his hand. “I’ve… never been good at explaining my own preferences. I never did with Georgie, just… told her I was asexual and left it at that. I suppose she took that to mean that I, er. Didn’t.”

Asexual. Martin has a vague notion of what that means—he’s been in enough online LGBTQ spaces to have encountered the word before, but he’s never really looked into it much himself. If pressed, he thinks he’d also assume it meant that Jon didn’t. Something a bit guilty twists within him at that thought, amplified by his next thought that Georgie shouldn’t have assumed, because, well, that’s a bit hypocritical, isn’t it? Still, he feels the need to voice it; he squeezes Jon’s hand again and says, “It’s not your fault that she just- just made assumptions about what you wanted, Jon.”

“Yes, but it’s my fault that I never corrected her.” Jon makes a face. “Or Tim, now that I think about it. I… I suppose I’m just not very good at talking about these things. Particularly because my own preferences are…” Jon’s pained expression deepens. “Christ, I don’t want to say complicated again, but there really is no other word for it.”

That’s not your fault either, Martin wants to say, but he knows Jon will just contradict him again, and he’ll repeat himself, and then they’ll just be talking in circles, and that won’t help anything. It’s frustrating, but it’s the truth. Still, Martin finds the words waiting on his lips when he opens his mouth, so he shuts it again and thinks for a moment, promising himself later. I’ll tell him later. Finally, he says carefully, “Do you… do you want to talk about it? We don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I don’t want to assume.” He lets out a humorless laugh. “Well, I don’t want to keep assuming, I suppose, given that I’ve already assumed quite a lot.” Quieter: “Sorry, again.”

“It’s fi—” Jon cuts off, takes a breath. “Th… thank you, Martin.” He hesitates a moment, then says haltingly, “I- I do want to talk about it, but I don’t—” He makes a frustrated noise. “—I don’t know how.”

“Okay,” Martin says after a moment. “You said it’s complicated, yeah?” When Jon nods mutely, he continues, “Would it help if you described how you feel right now? That’s- that’s less complicated, right?”

Jon’s mouth flattens into a thin line. “I… suppose.”

“All right, then.” Martin makes a go-on gesture, then rests his hand atop Jon’s and applies a gentle pressure.

Jon takes a few deep breaths, squints at nothing, makes a few wordless noises, then says bluntly, “I want to have sex with you.”

Martin tries really, really hard not to blush, but he doesn’t think he quite succeeds given how hot his face feels when he says, “Right, okay.” His voice is a bit higher-pitched than normal; he hopes that Jon doesn’t notice. “And, um. Do you always… want to have sex with me? Or just right now.”

Jon grimaces. “That’s where it gets complicated.” He makes an I-don’t-know gesture with his free hand and says, “No? Yes? I don’t know, Martin. I’m told that not wanting sex all the time is- is normal, that- that you have to be in the mood, but apparently I’m just supposed to know when I’ll be in the mood and when I won’t be, and that- that doesn’t really work for me.”

“Are you—” Martin cringes internally, but forces the words out. “—in the mood right now?”

“Well,” Jon grumbles, “not anymore, but I was. And it’s complicated, because even if I am, I- I don’t always want to be touched, but how do you explain that to someone, how- how do you tell someone that it’s mostly no but sometimes yes and there’s a very good chance that I might change my mind halfway through and decide that it’s no after all?”

“I think,” Martin says patiently, “that you just say that.”

Jon gives Martin a look. “Martin.”

“What? It’s true!” Martin gives Jon as reassuring a smile as he can muster. “It made sense to me, at least.”

“Yes, but that’s not—” Jon makes a frustrated noise. “It’s not whether or not it makes sense, it’s whether or not somebody is willing to put up with a sexual partner who doesn’t know whether or not they’re going to want to have sex on any given day, whether they- they’ll be repulsed or interested or want to give but not receive or the other way around or- or something else that I haven’t thought of but that will likely happen because consistency is, apparently, off the cards for me entirely.”

“Hey, hey,” Martin says gently, placing a hand on Jon’s shoulder and rubbing gentle circles with his thumb. “Jon, look at me.” When Jon looks, albeit reluctantly, Martin continues, “I can’t speak for other people, and I- I can’t tell you how to feel, but I can tell you how I feel, and I… I’m willing. No, more than willing—I love you, Jon, all of you, and if this is how you feel, then I love that about you too. Whatever you’re willing to give me, it… it’ll be enough. You’re enough.”

Jon’s cheeks darken and he looks away. After a long moment, he says in a stiff voice, “Well. Thank you, Martin.” Then, a bit softer: “I… I love you too.” He looks at Martin then and offers him a small, weak smile. “It’s… well, it’s still awkward, but it’s not quite as bad—talking about all of this—as I thought it would be.”

“Well, I’m glad you did. Talk to me about it, that is.”

Jon’s smile turns a bit hesitant. “So you would really be okay if I… if I never asked again? To, er. To have sex.”

“Yes,” Martin says, without hesitation.

“Oh,” Jon says quietly. “And- and if I said that I did? Want to? That… that would be okay too? Even if I’d already said that I didn’t?”

“Yep.”

Jon looks down at his hands where they’re twisted tightly in the hem of his jumper, then back up at Martin. “All right.” He hesitates a moment, then says, “And if… if I said that I wanted to have sex… now?”

Ah. It looks like Martin’s not done blushing quite yet. “Yep, that- that’s fine with me,” he squeaks out, then cringes internally. Fine? Really?

Thankfully, Jon doesn’t seem offended; if anything, he seems amused, his mouth quirking up into a small smirk. “All right, then.” He leans forward and presses a kiss to Martin’s lips, soft and chaste and ever-so-slightly lingering before he pulls away. “I, er. I think I’d like to just kiss for a bit, though.” His smile turns teasing. “Foreplay is very important, after all.”

Martin groans and gives Jon a look, his face likely fully tomato-red by now. “Jon.”

“Need to make sure we’re fully in the mood before beginning proceedings—”

“Yes, yes, you’ve made your point,” Martin says, a giggle slipping out around the words. Then, because he’s nothing if not a little mischievous himself, he leans forward and captures Jon’s lips in a kiss, significantly less chaste and a touch more insistent, pressing until Jon is leaned back against the arm of the couch and Martin is hovering over him. Martin disengages from the kiss so he can marvel at the flushed, wide-eyed expression on Jon’s face. “Like that?” he says innocently.

Jon blinks up at him for a few seconds, like he’s not entirely sure how to process everything in front of him, before he smiles, a warm, happy thing that captures Martin’s heart entirely and steals it away. “I do believe that was adequate, yes. Perhaps you should do it again though, just to make sure.”

So Martin does. I love him, he thinks as he kisses Jon on the couch and kisses him again on the bed, kisses him in the spot between his shoulder blades where he always carries tension and in the dip of his clavicle and on the inside of his thigh. And when he’s curled up next to Jon after, he presses another kiss to the crown of Jon’s head and wraps his arms around him and quietly discards his mental lists of does and doesn’t. He’ll start from scratch, he decides, and after a moment’s thought, he comes up with two more lists, upon which it’s surprisingly easy to add item after item after item.

Jon likes to be kissed. Jon likes eggs and toast, but not jam, and likes his tea black and slightly oversteeped. Jon doesn’t like wool because he finds it itchy. Jon doesn’t like white wine, but he likes red, the kinds that are too dry for Martin’s tastes.

Jon likes Martin, and Martin likes him too. So, so much. And even when things change, when Jon finds a white wine he likes at a restaurant they visit and he takes his tea once with honey and enjoys it and he goes through a period where he doesn’t enjoy open-mouthed kisses and Martin adjusts his lists accordingly, that remains.

#archivalpride #the magnus archives #jongeorgie #jontim #jonmartin #tma #jonathan sims #tim stoker #georgie barker #melanie king #martin blackwood #my fic #my writing

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absolutebl · 3 years

Text

This Week in BL

March 2021 Part 4

Being a highly subjective assessment of one tiny corner of the interwebs.

This is a LONG ONE, it’s been A WEEK everyone.

Ongoing Series - Thai

Lovely Writer Ep 5 - a little slow this week, but at least Gene finally flirted back, and very cute flirting it was, too. Also we got Aey’s motivation, background, and love interest. Thank goodness for that.

Brothers Ep 8 - still pants, what can I say? Clearly I am a BL masochist. Very embarrassing for everyone concerned.

1000 Stars Ep 9 - the conflict over Tian’s father was REALLY well done. The plot of this drama is excellent, the leads are great together, and yes I totally cried. What, you didn’t?

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Word of Honor (China) Ep 16-18 - big battle fighty fighty stabby stabby. Ep 17 switches to “this drama isn’t big enough for two chaotic-neutral godlings!” So what do they do? Drink together and bicker... A LOT. Then in Ep 18 we all get the dubious joy of really freaky puppets. (I HATE puppets.) Also how is China letting this be so SO VERY VERY GAY? Also, I wanna walk through the forest wearing a smanshy purple robe and waving a big fuck-off white fan around simply because I’m a pretentious fuss monger. And frankly, I feel like this is an achievable life goal for me.

We Best Love 2 (Taiwan) Ep 4 - not gonna lie, this is looking to be one of my top 3 BLs of 2021. It’s SO GOOD. Big bonus to this ep for treating stalker behavior like the mental illness it is and not as some dumb representation of enduring love.

The Most Peaceful Place is My Place (Vietnam) Ep 1 - finally dropped (find it under NƠI BÌNH YÊN NHẤT LÀ VỀ BÊN EM on O2′s channel). It’s got actors already comfortable with BL and looks pretty good so far. An angry tsundere uke reunited with his ex, a stoic chef, giving us lots of snap, crackle, and pop out the gate.

Dear Uranus (Taiwan GL) Ep 2 - I want to love it, but it is just moving too fast. There’s not enough character dev and then they’re throwing flashbacks in? It feels like a treatment rather than a show, and a rushed treatment at that. Bummer.

HIStory 4: Close To You (Taiwan) Ep 2 (AKA Ep 3-4) - let the cheesy popcorn continue! Idiot remains an idiot; ingenue remains an ice queen; nice gay guy remains nice and gay; obsessive stalker brother is getting ever more whackadoddle. Of course these last two have the best chemistry. (It’s caregiver codependency and the salvation trope. We got us a Leo/Fiat situation going on.) Plus lots of classic BL tropes because OF COURSE there are lots of tropes.

Occasionally, I am tempted to argue that shows like H4 or Cherry Magic or Ossan’s Love aren’t technically BL because of the office setting and age of the protags - but then they all behave like high school students anyway, so *shrug*

Stand Alones

Cute little Taiwanese micro BL Friend or Lover dropped, about bisexual realization within a friendship group. Normally these are too short for me, but this one did pretty good with its 15 minutes of charm, plus it’s abad boy + shy softy pairing.

Breaking News - Thai BL

Fish Upon the Sky released its actual trailer. The upside-down kiss is gone, which makes everyone sad, and it seems far less rivals to lovers than the first iteration, which makes ME sad. But it still looks good and a more classic BL than GMMTV has given us in a while. New trailer focused more on the makeover trope and they’ve upped Mix’s role (the object of everyone’s affection) now that he’s proved himself. (Or they are using him more to carry the trailer since he has a fan base form 1k*). Starts April 9 on GMMTV in 1K*’s time slot, probably with a 10 ep run.

2gether the movie is apparently coming April 22 to Thai theaters. F4 Thailand must be having issues or GMMTV just wants to milk the BrightWin cash cow. It’s rumored to be a combination of 2gehter + Still 2gether with some extra scenes and ending. Also, one assumes a lot will be cut out, if it’s movie length.

Call It What You Want released its updated trailer. If anything, it looks more scary than before. What are we in for? April 9th.

Nitiman got a release date, May 7 on One31.

I Told Sunset About You 2 got an updated release date of May 27 on LineTV.

Second Chance the series is coming to LineTV on March 29. I don’t know much about this one. Tons of familiar faces (mostly TharnType side dishes) and some nice looking new talent but a dearth of eng subs. I think it may take on Brothers’ time slot. Line did eng subs for Brothers so maybe they will do 2nd Chance too?

Close Friend the series is coming April 22. This is a combination of 6 couples with 6 story arcs as music videos (maybe)? It’s an epic fan service with familiar faces like OhmFluke (UWMA), MaxNat (LBC also in Y-Destiny), YoonLay (YYY also in Y-Destiny), KimCop (GenY), and JaFirst (TT2).

Y-Destiny starts March 30, and has starting dropping couple’s trailers. I’m still suspicious given the director but it seems like there is plot (or plots) and a theme. Looks to be a series of 7 single ep vignettes (amended, see comments, might be 2 eps each for 14 eps total), different couple each time, some with supernatural elements, all with decent chemistry and acting chops.

Sun MaxNat’s tutor/student arc

Mon jaded rich kid meets poor innocent

Tues sports romance enemies to lovers

Weds the messy realistic actual dating one

Thurs hot ghost boyfriend (sad)

Fri YoonLayPerth coping with loss and finding new love (sad). This one will all rest on Lay's acting so we know it’s in safe hands. Our boy is going to KILL it.

Sat time-slip memory loss reunion romance

I’m thinking we can’t expect any of these to end happy or be classic BL. They’re gonna be more slice of life-ish.

Gossip - BL Outside of Thailand

Scholar Ryu’s Wedding Ceremony AKA Nobleman Ryu’s Wedding (Korean historical BL) got a legit teaser (eng sub here). @curriculumvtae reports that it’s releasing April 15th on WeTV (Philippines & Thailand) and Idol Romance (South Korea), while Will of Thai Bl says it’ll be on Viki too. It’s a short run of 8 ep built on a fake relationship trope (arranged marriage variant):

Ryu Ho Seon’s (Kang In Soo from You Wish) arranged marriage turns out to be with his expected bride’s brother, Choi Ki Wan (Lee Se Jin from Mr Heart). Ryu tries to undo the marriage, but his ill mother opposes this saying the scandal would be too much. Meanwhile, Kim Tae Hyeong (Jang Eui Soo from Where Your Eyes Linger), a senior at Ryu’s school, comes to congratulate him and falls in love with Choi. Then one day, the original bride disappears.

Okay it seems a bit twisty turny for ONLY 8 EPS, but oh my goodness how excited are we? Our first intentional historical BL out of Korea!

We already knew Hong Kong was doing a remake of Japan’s Ossan’s Love under the same name (not my favorite Japanese BL but so very popular) but it’s now reported to be coming to Viu in June. Who knows how the CFA will take it. Depends on whether Hong Kong bows before the NO GAY KISSES regs or if they are going to use this as a political nose thumb... things could get cray with this puppy (the original has several kisses and s shower scene). Are we back in Addicted territory only with added comedy and civil unrest?

Speaking of Japan, Absolute BL (AKA Zettai BL ni Naru Sekai vs Zettai BL ni Naritakunai Otoko) dropped sooner than anyone thought, March 27. But being Japanese who knows how/when/if we get subs. Protag finds himself trapped in a world of BL, but being straight he fights against any hot guy that draws near, but the whole world (literally) is conspiring against him. It’s a parody adapted from a yoai.

What with Absolute BL from Japan plus Lovely Writer and Call it What You Want from Thailand, is 2021 the year of BL being ultra self referential? Sure feels like it.

In Case You Missed It

Faded a gay micro film from Taiwan from 2017 deals with parental acceptance and serves up a ton of BL tropes (piggyback, forehead kiss, etc). I’m pretty sure this was a propaganda piece for legalization of gay marriage, and it’s an interesting nugget of BL history as a result. Yes, it ends happy. It’s cute.

Next Week Looks Like This:

Some shows may be listed a day later than actual air date for accessibility reasons.

Upcoming 2021 BL master post here.

Links to watch are provided when possible, ask in a comment if I missed something.

Man there’s a lot going on right now! Spring has sprung... I suppose.

P.S. I cannot believe I missed Absolute BL as a blog name. Numbnuts = me.

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forthegothicheroine · 3 years

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The King in Yellow, 1949

Much of this story is true. Warnings in the tags.

When I had pneumonia in my early teens, my mother brought home an armful of VHS tapes from the library to alleviate my misery. Knowing my snobbish preferences, she had grabbed copies of whatever she found in black and white. I remember something musical that I suspect was Busby Berkeley, I remember Mildred Pierce (a bad choice, as it turned out- the plot includes a young girl dying of pneumonia), and I remember a period piece called The King. I faded in and out of consciousness while I watched it, but it soothed me while I was awake and filled my fever dreams with sparkling images. I could never find it at the library again, nor at Hollywood Video or even early Netflix (once my father got the subscription service where you could order practically every DVD.) It was a bit odd that it seemed to be so obscure, given that it starred old Hollywood legend Ingrid Bergman (and, although I initially forgot it, Marlene Dietrich.) But even big stars make films that fall by the wayside in public memory, and it seemed that this was one of them. Google was no help, and at the time that was that.

I didn’t see the film again until I was watching Turner Classic Movies at my grandparents’ house. I loved watching that channel with them while filling out the crossword puzzle that came in their little TCM catalogue (all of it based on movie trivia, the only kind of crossword puzzle I’ve ever been any good at.) I recognized a certain scene where Bergman stood on a balcony, looking sadly at the moon. Her face had an expression of unutterable melancholy, and the crescent moon reflected in each of her eyes, giving the impression of two moons in one sky. I had very little time to catch up on what I’d missed before we had to go meet my cousins at the local Italian restaurant. I knew logically that the movie would be long over by the time we returned, but I turned on the channel anyway. Of course it had moved on to the lesser known Alfred Hitchcock film Stage Fright, but then I heard Marlene Dietrich sing before I could reach the remote to turn the tv off in disappointment. I knew that I had heard her sing before, and I knew it had been in The King.

Dietrich’s singing often comes across as somewhat campy today, with its Rs pronounced as Ws and it’s up-and-down tone. Madeline Kahn parodied it brilliantly in Blazing Saddles, such that it was a bit of a disappointment when I finally saw Dietrich’s western Destry Rides Again and found it to be lifeless and inconsistent next to the parody. Still, we remember her voice for a reason, and when I remembered it that night, I knew that its sardonic loneliness had rung through The King and made me shiver in my dreams.

The TCM schedule didn’t list The King in its time slot, but something else. If I had taken down the name, maybe it would have helped me find it. Sometimes the same movie runs under multiple names.

I didn’t see the film all the way through for many years, after I graduated college. I had found a web page that listed public domain film noir, including one called The Masked Guest. The website described it as a costume noir, and I curiously clicked on the link. Once I took in the credits running on the youtube window, my eyes grew wide and I did not move from my place on the bed until the movie had run its course.

The credits did indeed list it as The Masked Guest, but I recognized the strange repeating design on the title cards. They told me that in addition to starring Dietrich and Bergman, it was directed by Fritz Lang, and a character called The King was credited to “???” (I hadn’t seen that kind of credit since the first Karloff Frankenstein.) When the King finally appears on screen, though, it is unmistakably Orson Welles’s voice that booms out from behind his elaborate costume.

Here are the things I understand about The King, or The Masked Guest, or The Man in Yellow, or any other title I’ve found for it on public domain archive searches. Dietrich and Bergman play princesses named Cassilda and Camilla, respectively. Though Dietrich’s accent is German and Bergman’s is Swedish, they blend together to give the film the impression of being set somewhere on the map that I can’t quite find. The scenery and camera angles are very Freudian, with a great deal of archways and pillars.

The first act of The King involves frankly dull romantic plotlines, and the only thing that really saved it was the feeling that the suitors were supposed to be insipid, a suspicion lended credence by the fact that the love interests were listed so low on the credits. Dietrich is the scandalous sister and Bergman is the responsible one, though each takes on aspects of the other as the film goes on. Dietrich sings her song at a party, dressed in a fake 17th century gown and leaning against a piano. Although just a moment ago she had been laughing and joking with her gentleman friends, her song takes an abruptly serious tone (not seductive, not sentimental) as she tells the story of a city lost to time and memory. Bergman slips away from the party and onto the balcony, where we see that wonderful shot of the moon in her eyes. Is she mourning? Is she longing?

Dietrich cuts off the song by abruptly screaming “Not on us, King! Not on us!” She flees the party weeping and shaking, and from there on the film goes mad.

Though uncommon, it is not unknown for movies to switch between black and white and color, done most famously in The Wizard of Oz. The film The King recalls here is the silent Phantom of the Opera, which had a masqued ball scene tinted in shades of red and green that tried to provide a whole spectrum of color. The effect is even odder in the masqued ball scene in The King- the only color that appears is yellow, highlighting things like candlelight, Dietrich’s hair, a passing gown, a vase of tulips. It also highlights one particular masked figure, whose expressionless mask was decorated with a black pattern against a sickening yellow canvas- the same pattern I had seen in the opening credits. The color of his costume causes him to stand out from the crown even when he is far off in the background, just one head among many others. It must have taken long and painstaking hours of work to color in every frame.

Dietrich still seems broken up days after her song, though Bergman tries to coax her into joining the dance. Finally, at midnight, Dietrich goes out to face the party, but only to demand that every guest remove their mask. The yellow man with a voice that once warned America about a Martian invasion tells her that he wears no mask. Bergman reacts with disbelief, but Dietrich starts laughing like a woman unhinged. As she laughs, the yellow hue seeps out of the King’s clothing and face- if that really is his face- and begins to color the entire ballroom crowd. I think that what follows is bloodshed, but if there is any carnage (doubtful under the Production Code censorship), the blood must be tainted yellow and splashed across the camera like daubs of paint. Dietrich’s laughing face is doubled and tripled on screen until it dissipates, but even when it has faded offscreen, it feels as if her ghost continues to watch the proceedings.

By the end of the scene (filled with German Expressionist camera angles and mad violin screeching), only Bergman remains alive, cowering behind a grandfather clock. It does not hide her for long. The King steps towards her and extends his hand. Reluctantly, but with a fatalistic expression, Bergman takes his hand. They walk away together hand in hand. The screen shifts back into black and white, and then the credits roll before we can get a good look at all the bodies in the scene. The credits say it was based on a play called The King in Yellow, although Raymond Chandler of all people apparently had a hand in the screenplay.

As I said, that’s what I think I understand. It’s an oddly experimental art film for the era, and it may be awaiting rediscovery by the film festival crowd. I feel as if I alone know about it, though that obviously isn’t true. It is my little secret; I tell myself that my husband doesn’t need me to show it to him, it would be too odd for his taste. I’ve rewatched it many times, even if it seems like each time I search for it I have to find a different video platform or torrent. Naturally, no subscription site has it available. Maybe I am the last person who will ever watch it. Maybe no one will ever think to look for it again after me, and it will be completely forgotten.

When I was hospitalized, they let me use my laptop at night before I went to sleep (no power cord, though, in case I tried to hang myself.) I found a youtube link for The Man in Yellow, and I watched it every night. It wasn’t a soothing sort of movie, but having it in my mind all day and then watching it in the evening allowed me to think as opposed to crying endlessly while the other patients shot me awkward looks. I clutched the childhood stuffed animals my mother brought me when she visited, and I always held them extra tight when the masquerade scene started.

I watched the movie when I had to move away from my beloved San Francisco. I watched the movie when I lost the last of my grandparents. I watched the movie when a doctor unwisely took me off my medication and I couldn’t manage to eat for a month. I watched the movie when the whole world got sick and we all locked ourselves away from each other. I don’t mind that I don’t entirely know what it means. I don’t mind the nightmares. In the hospital they kept telling us about mindfulness exercises, and maybe the fact that I can focus on every aspect of the film so closely that all else falls away is the reason I keep coming back to it. I’m being mindful. I’m not letting any stray thoughts invade my head. I’m just watching and waiting for the next beat of every scene, leading inexorably to that yellow-stained bloodbath.

Streaming media doesn’t last forever, and each time I find The King, I worry that it will be the last time I ever can find it. My efforts to download it have so far been unsuccessful, odd considering that it is in the public domain.

When I watch The King, I am once again a child in my bedroom being cared for in the throes of agonizing sickness. I am once again sitting on the couch with my grandparents in front of the tv, both of them alive and lucid again. I am once again in the hospital, all alone except for my stuffed animals and the staff trying to keep me alive. The film reflects in my eyes like the crescent moon in Ingrid Bergman’s gaze. It sings to me.

I am determined to find a way to obtain The King under any name so that I never have to worry about losing it. During some of the worst times in my life, it is the only thing that has kept me sane.

#the king in yellow #cw mental illness #cw disordered eating #cw institutionalization #cw suicide

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ripperdaddy · 3 years

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the viktor vector romance path + ending we deserve

Disclaimer: This is definitely something I came up with in my head. There will be a few instances that are solely made up so it can tie in with the “story.” This is purely fictional; something I wished happened if there was a possible Vik romance 🥰 This is based on my general knowledge of the game & Vik’s life. All gifs + images are from my own personal play through, but wouldn’t be possible without the help of the Appearance Menu Mod, found on Nexus Mods by the creators, MaximiliumM and CtrlAltDaz. And the shirtless Vik mod by the lovely samsnak ♡

It would start after completing the Paid In Full quest where you pay Vik back the eddies you owe him.

I feel like realistically, the general player would have to be at least halfway through the story to have collected enough eddies. I would say that a good point in the story where we can begin the romance is that you’ve already established a connection to Alt and have dealt with the VDB’s.

I think it would be a short side quest like River’s. Vik already plays a big part in the story overall on his own, so I don’t think it’s necessary to make his “side quest” too long. His romance would just be an addition to the ending.

And as much as I would love for him to be a bisexual option for both male/female V, if we’re sticking with the game’s standard with limiting partners to only one kind of partner, he would only be romance-able by a female V with a feminine voice.

V: Finally scrounged up enough eddies to pay you back in full.

Vik: Hold on to ‘em just in case - you need ‘em more than me.

V: I’m not taking them all the way to my grave, Vik. Here. And.. thanks again for doing so much work on me ‘thout ever seein’ an enny.

Vik: That’s what friends are for.

Then, there is an additional option for dialogue to trigger the romance path.

V: Friends? I think you’ve been in and out of my body more than anyone else I’ve hooked up with in Night City.

He laughs, with a coy smile. “Well, can’t argue with you there. Why don’t we take some of these eddies and grab a drink. You know, to celebrate. Catch up on old times. Haven’t seen you round here much lately, kid.”

You agree to meet at the El Coyote Cojo tomorrow evening.

You meet around 9 PM and you are welcomed by the sight of Pepe and Vik at the bar.

V: Nice choice of venue.

Vik: Thought you’d like it. Haven't been here since.. well, you know.

V: I miss him, Vik.

Vik: I know, V. Me too.

You immediately take a seat and tinker with a few dialogue options, where you can either have a sweet moment talking about Jackie or some surface questions to ask, like how he’s doing, what kind of drink he likes, etc. But it all winds down to Jackie anyway, where Vik confides in you about his past. Judging by how Vik was so affected by Jackie’s death, and V’s (if you chose the suicide ending), you can tell that he has lost a lot in his life, and keeps his circle very small.

You then achieve an even closer, more personal relationship with him. But, ultimately nothing happens other than the usual, wait 24 hours in game for a text/phone call from Vik to head into the next stage. At least now, you have established the foundation for a future romance.

Halfway through the 24 hour period, you get a text from Vik thanking you for the lovely evening. No reply needed, as he calls you once the 24 hour mark hits and invites you out for another date.

You meet at Tom’s Diner for coffee in the afternoon. It starts off with him apologizing for being emotional the previous night and asks if you’re open to hanging out again and going down to Pacifica to watch a fight with him.

Vik: Hey, V. I just wanted to apologize about last night. I didn’t mean to be such a downer.

V: It’s okay, Vik. We share the same grief.

Vik: I was going to head down to Pacifica and catch a real good match later on today. I was wondering if you’d like to come along, think it’d be great for the both of us, you know, as a distraction.

pssst even Johnny’s rooting for y’all ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Johnny: Hmm, interesting.

V: What?

Johnny: Never thought you'd be going out with this guy.

V: Vik's amazing. And I mean--we basically owe it to him since he practically saved our life.

Johnny: Don't tell me you're going out with him out of pity.

V: I'm not.

Johnny: I know, I can feel you get all mushy-gushy. It's almost repulsive. Just wanted to hear you admit it.

V: Eat a dick, Johnny.

You arrive before the GIM and blend into the crowd.

V: Nothin’ like watching guys beat the shit out of each other to get your blood pumpin’, huh?

Vik: This is a real good matchup, V. This kid’s fresh, young talent.

V: You miss it, don’t you?

Before the fight begins, Vik shares a story about his time in the ring and coming in second in the Watson Boxing Grand Prix.

There’s some extra fun options in the dialogue, you can bet some eddies on who’s gonna win, or side with him. The fight ends, and you two head outside.

Since you’re already out in Pacifica, you head over to the boardwalk (where you would ride the roller coaster with Johnny) and he starts telling you about the last days of his boxing career and how he transitioned from the sport to being a ripperdoc.

You both share a sweet moment with each other, reminiscing about old times and talking about V’s future with the relic. This is where I would see Vik confessing how he feels about you, mentioning how grateful he is for Jackie introducing you to him.

The evening ends and Vik asks you to give him some time to try and dig up some footage from his storage and have you come over to watch. You can kiss him then wait another 24 in game hours before the last quest. Halfway through, he texts you and asks you what you’d like for dinner. You can opt for pizza or chinese.

I haven’t seen or read anything about how or where Vik lives. If I overlooked something, please let me know! But for the sake of the story, let’s say he does actually have his own place that’s now introduced in the game. Personally, I think he has a typical bachelor pad, like a really nice apartment. Not too far from his clinic either. He looks like he would just walk to work. Vik definitely has a lot of money, but he’s so humble I doubt he would choose to live lavishly. As mentioned in the beginning, he typically just “sleeps nights” ever since he was over “being a legend” so I’m guessing his lifestyle is very routine. He goes to work, goes home, sleep. Seems unlikely he has a place like the Peralez’s. It would probably be just the same as V’s but decorated to his taste.

The evening comes and you are over at his place. He’s dressed in just a white undershirt, no exo-glove. You get to know more about his family, how he grew up — scanning things around his place. Then he plays some footage of one of his fights for you, while you two have a conversation and share a beer. As you two sit on the couch, you get close, then have an opportunity to kiss him.

then this is where da sex happen hihihi (ノ・ω・)ノ

The next morning you wake up and you two have a heartfelt conversation about where this is going. He already knows your situation, so I would assume he is very accepting and supportive. And with Vik, he seems like the kind of guy who would still want to be in your life and keep the friendship the same way despite no longer being together romantically. So it’s official. He’s your man 🥵 !!11!1!

Like how River gives you the “fuck the police” tank top after sleeping with him, I think Vik would give you his Night City Devils t-shirt that provides you with a significant amount of armor or some kind of cyberware upgrade that makes you invulnerable for a brief moment while using your hands to fight enemies.

Note: I was thinking of Vik giving V his boxing glove necklace, but because it's part of his character's appearance in the game, I don't think we would be able to essentially "take it" from him - unless he gives you a replica as a keepsake. Which I think would also work.

If you successfully romance, during the rooftop scene near the end of Nocturne OP55N1 (despite Vik’s disposition of him telling you to take matters in your own hands and being a little closed off), you still have an option to reach out to him when Johnny advises you to call a loved one.

V: Hey, Vik. I just wanted to say, thanks for hanging with me, until the end.

Vik: Quit talking like it is, V. Just do what you need to do.

V: I mean, think of it. It’s like I’m heading into the last round of this whole thing.

Vik: Well, in that case.. remember—keep your hands up, guarded at all times. It ain’t over just yet.

V: Heh.. I can feel it, just a few more punches.

Vik: Now look at you - the new welterweight champ of Night City.

V: Thanks, coach.

Vik: Last piece of advice from the coach's corner. Just.. be careful, kid. Remember, I’m with you.

Okayyyy, soooo I’m not the biggest fan of how CDPR gave us two of the same endings (Path of Glory). The only difference is that Rogue’s life is spared. I would have assumed that not only would we get to keep Rogue around, things should have played a bit more differently for V if we took the route of going solo against the corpos. So let’s tweak it.

This specific ending; it should be after getting through Don’t Fear The Reaper where you single-handedly manage to rip through Arasaka by yourself. Johnny goes back to Alt & Rogue is still alive. Yes nobody dies!!!

(honestly this ending can apply to any love interest you choose)

Vik and V are now living together in a lavish penthouse, entertaining an upcoming merc to do their work for them (which is now the current POV of the player.) You were recruited by Rogue at the Afterlife, who told you to visit this couple for a real, preem job.

They give you some vague details about the gig and go on for a brief moment about what you will be doing and what you should expect. Vik emphasizes to you that it’s important you get what they need because it’s for his wife, V, as her life depends on it.

As Never Gonna Fade Away is playing in the background, they tell you to break into Arasaka HQ.

Then the game officially ends.

#cyberpunk 2077 #viktor vector #v/vik #let us romance the ripperdoc you cowards

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thefledglingdm · 3 years

Note

Umm can I request directors commentary for literally any Leopika fic you’ve written??? Love your stuff!

❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

ahhahaha thank you so much! yes, absolutely! this is going to be long, because i have decided to do that scene in light of my life, pain of my ass. beware LONG BULLSHIT and spoilers below the cut!

ok to set the scene. i was TERRIFIED to write this part. because this is the climax, you know? we've had 150k words of build-up and emotional tension to this scene. while this has been a romantic story, this is the actual climax of the story. we've spent all this time in kurapika's head as he's dealt with his anxiety, his need for control, his fear of letting go. how he's changed as he's opened up his heart and his life to people outside. and finally he's actually working through all of his emotions and the progress he's made out loud, in front of everyone. and because he forgot about giving his speech until like five minutes before (sorry, kp), he is forced to speak from the heart.

For five agonizing seconds, Kurapika stood alone in the middle of a silent room. Above him, the string lights coalesced into a single shared point of soft white light that illuminated his space.

i so wish this could be adapted to, like, netflix or made into a movie. i put so much into this imagery. the play on light? the cinnamon topography? *chef's kiss* yes please netflix CALL ME.

Everyone in his life was staring at him expectantly, Pairo and Altair and Gon and Killua and Nanika and Alluka and Kalluto and his parents. And approximately a hundred other people on top of that, extended family on both sides, industry insiders, coworkers. All staring at him and waiting for him to say something amazing and powerful and deep about love and what did Kurapika know about love, anyway? He was a thirty-two year old trans man so terrified of his own emotions, so paralyzed by his fear of loss, that he did not figure out he was in love with his best friend until three weeks ago.

this is me screwing the knife in deeper for poor kurapika, sorry. this is so incredibly horrifying for a person with anxiety, as someone with anxiety. behold, the terrifying ordeal of being known.

Five seconds. Kurapika finally found Leorio standing near the back, leaning against the bar. He wondered if Leorio picked the same spot where they sat together the very first time they came here on purpose. Leorio sent him a wink and a thumbs-up.

the terrifying ordeal of being known and being so, so loved anyway. it was great to write in a way that showed leorio realized he was in love with kurapika first (indeed, realized that kurapika was in love with him before kurapika knew himself), because these little interactions shows so much how leorio is inviting and allowing kurapika to come to him on his own time. and supporting him the whole way, because they are friends!!!!

Breathe, Kurapika thought. Just breathe. It’s going to be okay.

this statement was not supposed to be a running theme/motif, but i'm super glad it did! i wrote it as a one-off line for melody, but then i was like, hang on, that's kinda good? every other time i write i'm like, hey, you could make a theme out of this!

“Um,” Kurapika started, his voice cracking. Christ, he sounded seventeen again. He cleared his throat.

my friends told me about how their voices changed and dropped on T. any trans person is stronger and more powerful than any us marine.

“For those of you who may not know, I’m Pairo’s brother. Kurapika. His older one, just to be clear.”

this is definitely something that has happened like a hundred times.

There was a smattering of chuckles around the room. He twisted to look at Pairo. “I’ve known Pairo since he was a toddler dragging a ragged, threadbare T-Rex plushie around behind him. I was there when he read his first chapter book on his own – Dino Hunter, of course – because he came bursting into my room at two o’clock in the morning to tell me about it.” Another round of laughter. “I was there when he got his first notebook, when he won his first writing contest, when he was published in his first magazine. I was the first person he told about liking boys instead of girls. I’ve watched him grow and learn and fall in love. And now Altair is part of our family, too.”

pairo and kurapika's lives as brothers were amazing. dino hunter is a reference to the book they both read in the manga that led to kurapika wanting to leave the kurta and explore the world.

i also thought that writing fit pairo well because it's a pretty accessible career for his eyes. he could type, he could enhance the screen and font when he needed, and he could do talk-to-type. one day i want to write a side-story of when pairo and altair met, because i have it perfectly formulated in my head and it's adorable.

Kurapika took a deep breath, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear. He confessed, “To be perfectly honest, I was scared when Pairo asked me to do this, because I’ve run out of things to teach him. He’s run on ahead of me in life. Settled down, moved in with his boyfriend – now husband, congratulations on that by the way – and gotten married, while I’m perpetually single and living alone in my loft apartment with an absolutely spoiled monster of a cat. Stop laughing, that wasn’t supposed to be a joke.”

emperor the cat was also not intended to be a character. i came up with him like, right before i started writing the chapter.

i think it was hard for kurapika to watch his brother fall in love and move on ahead in life. even if he was genuinely happy for them both. i had a conversation with a coworker a few months ago where we both talked about how we feel like we are "behind," even though we're both very accomplished. she felt like she was "behind" because i have a master's degree; i felt like i was "behind" because she was happily married and already had a child on the way (who is here and beautiful and perfect). and i imagine kurapika wondered if he was falling behind or missing something when he saw his brother succeed in love and business without really trying.

but there's no competition at all, of course. the world spins on, and we grow and change and find our place in our own time. there's no race.

The room quieted again. Kurapika went on, his eyes flicking over the crowd. He was starting to smile, too, now.

he's starting to realize this is okay, he's not going to mess up, he may actually have something worthwhile to say or share. he's getting more comfortable in all this.

“But I’m also a wedding planner – I know, ironic – and I’ve learned a lot about love from my clients. So if you’ll indulge me, I’d like to share some of those lessons now.”

No one from the back shouted at him to shut the fuck up, that he didn’t have a single clue what he was talking about, so he thought he was safe to carry on.

how funny would that have been??? like, it would have been fucked-up and humiliating, but in any other situation?? hilarious. just killua looking like that dude in mean girls being like HE DOESN'T EVEN GO HERE except it's like HE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW WHAT LOVE IS.

He thought back to Light of My Life’s various couples, musing over their own rocky paths to the altar and the beautiful, fractured glimpses into their lives they gifted Kurapika and his team. What did they teach him? What did they teach his heart, that terrifying, terrified lump of meat frantically beating in his chest?

More than you think, his heart seemed to be telling him. Trust me; I will guide you through this. Trust me, trust me, trust me.

*"listen to your heart" plays in the background*

also like. trusting oneself and your perceptions and your feelings and your heart is so necessary. it's an important part of healing. and being honest with yourself and your feelings is part of a foundation for all healthy relationships, i think.

also i really like writing alliteratively. the play on words with "terrifying, terrified" was. inspired? terrifying, because kurapika for a long time feared his own heart and feelings, viewing them as a loss of control; and terrified, because his heart is afraid, too. and they are taking this leap together!

And Kurapika explained: “Love isn’t just found in eloquent professions or grand, romantic gestures. It’s supporting each other through your lowest, worst moments and coming out the other side stronger for it. It’s standing together, hand in hand, against the world. It’s in looking at someone simply existing in the world and seeing them as they are: good, beautiful, strong, intelligent, kind. It’s in your communication and your foundation and trusting that all good things will come together in time. It’s in the family that you build together. It’s in the work you each put in to get through the hard times. Together.”

me: yeah uh-huh jj you really did summarize the fic so far.

this is also where i started being sappy and thinking about love. friendly and romantic love. the love i've seen in my friends, the love i feel myself in my relationships.

There. That’s what his clients taught him. Menchi and Buhara; Morena and Theta; Pokkle and Ponzu; Knov and Morel; Knuckle and Shoot; Canary and Amane. But so many more people showed him what love was. He pictured Pairo and Altair on his couch, laughing at him and judging him and helping him put his own puzzle-piece heart together into something cohesive and beautiful. He smiled at his brothers and saw the way they were clutching each others hands, mouths beaming and eyes dewy.

they LOVE their brother so MUCH. their view of the outside looking in for the past year, watching kurapika fall in love, go soft, be happier than they've ever seen him.

He told them, “It’s in the way you can communicate in gestures and looks, and sometimes, without looking at all. It’s in banter and private jokes and finishing each other’s sentences. It’s in casual touches and... pouring their coffee before your own.”

my coffee is never as good as when my partner makes it. my honey-lemon tea is never as good as it is when my partner makes it. my jokes are never as funny as they are when my partner and i finish each other's sentences, build off of each other's quips. we can communicate across rooms with nothing but a look. these little signs of love are everywhere and expressed in so many tiny ways. these examples here are between people in romantic relationships, but these apply to platonic friendships as well.

His eyes swept the room and found Killua and Gon. Gon had his camera hefted onto one shoulder, and Killua stood behind him, arms around his waist and chin on his shoulder. “It’s on the first day you wake up and realize the way you look at the world has changed. The way you open your hands and your heart and give what you have, simply for the joy of being received.”

to love? transcendent. to be loved? incandescent. to love and know that it is valued and cherished and requited?

and this was a callback to killua talking about, of course, how he fell in love with gon like melting ice. like sinking into a bath. and this was also a quieter callback to how gon fell in love. because it wasn't just that he had/has so much love to give, but because for the first time in his life, he got to see it truly received. accepted.

Kurapika saw Killua’s breath catch and Gon’s hand flex over the fingers interlaced over his middle. Heedless of their surroundings and of the running camera, Gon twisted to kiss Killua on the mouth.

SMOOCHES ahahaha!

He turned his head back to Leorio. The man had not moved; indeed, he looked like he was nailed to the floor. His eyes were so intense as they watched him that Kurapika was almost surprised he had not yet burst into flame. Kurapika said, “It’s in the moment you see someone you’ve never met before, but you look at them and just know, to your core, that this is really going to be something.”

leorio realizing something is happening here. something huge is about to happen, is about to change. and he's trying so hard not to dare to hope it might be good. it might be everything.

A chorus of oohs went around the room. Even from this distance Kurapika saw the way Leorio’s face went red, and he ducked his chin, looking bashful and embarrassed.

leorio: holy shit holy shit holy SHIT IT'S HAPPENINGGGG

How was I such a fool before, Kurapika wondered, How was I so blind, so willfully ignorant and oblivious. How did it take me so long to realize you were talking about me. I’m sorry it took me so long to get here. I’m sorry I made you wait for so long.

this is important because it's not just kurapika realizing and accepting his feelings for leorio. this is kurapika's version of realizing that leorio feels the same for him. leorio is in love with him, too. and he's wondering how it was possible he was so scared and blind for so long. he fears he may have hurt leorio by holding off on this for so long, so he wants to be brave, take the leap, and see what they could be.

Kurapika did not want this man to wait another second. He did not want Leorio to spend another moment trapped in this limbo. So he confessed in the middle of a silent room in front of over a hundred people, “It's the first time you hear them laugh, and your entire world’s axis shifts beneath your feet.”

i remember the first time i met my partner. i remember the first time i looked at them and felt my world shift a little to the right. i remember falling in love and thinking that this one was unlike all the others. it was warm, golden, comforting.

Kurapika watched the confused frown on Leorio’s face when he heard that, amused by the almost puppyish tilt to his head as he considered it. He knew the moment Leorio realized what he meant when his eyes blew wide, amazed and awed and achingly soft. His lips parted.

gOD he is so CUTE. he's like oh hmm huh what does that mean

and then he remembers

i promise, he's not a huge dickwad!

and leorio laughing at gon's accidental gaffe and his sweet earnestness. and kurapika walking in. leorio realizing kurapika wanted to know him before they ever even met.

Kurapika made himself turn away from the arresting sight. “One of my favorite venues lately was the Roseview Ballroom downtown. Among its many beautiful, gaudy attractions are its murals depicting scenes from Shakespeare’s plays all across the ceiling. One is a famous quote from Twelfth Night: ‘journeys end in lovers meeting, every wise man’s son doth know.’ But the more I think about it, the less I agree.”

i'm such a WHORE for shakespeare, as any readers of mine will know. check out my modern college adaptation of much ado about nothing.

He turned to meet Pairo’s eyes again, repeating, “‘Journeys end in lovers meeting.’ But nothing is ending here. It’s just changing.”

life does not end when we start relationships! or when they end! or when we move, change jobs, graduate, go to school, drop out of school. happy endings in stories still aren't endings. the greatest constant in life is change.

“Because what I’ve learned in this job, Pairo and Altair, what nugget of wisdom I have to give you, is this. Love is looking at a world that can be terrifying, cold, capricious, and indifferent, and finding the person whose hand you want to hold through it all anyway. Because you want every laugh, every tear, every wrinkle, every spark of joy. Love is life’s greatest leap of faith, because you don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow. But you know exactly who you want to spend all those tomorrows with.”

me finishing this: dammit i just wrote out my wedding vows.

Kurapika looked around the room again. At Gon and Killua; at Kalluto, Nanika, and Alluka; at his parents; at his brothers. At Leorio.

He concluded, “So you simply breathe. And you trust it will be okay.”

There wasn’t a dry eye in the room when Kurapika dropped the microphone.

DAMN ME TOO THIS SHIT WAS GOOD TF?????? sorry my writing has peaked here.

#jj answers #hxh #loml

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angelanimedesaray · 3 years

Text

Wings in the Dark Chapter 2: Suspicions

AN: Yeeaaahhh this one’s pretty much all from Levi’s POV. Get ready for some cat and mouse, guys.

Also I’m working on a playlist. hehehe. I love my playlists. Some songs just fit SO WELLLLL!!!!

Characters: Levi, Vampire!Reader, Erwin, Various BG Characters

Pairing: (Eventual) Levi x Reader

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 5102

<----Previous Chapter Masterlist Next Chapter---->

*Levi’s POV*

Levi leaned against the stone wall beside him, arms crossed over his chest and the shade of the roof mostly hiding him from view as he stared pensively out at the open field. The horse training was finished for the days, and the horses were being allowed time to roam in the open field for the time being. One individual, however, was spending some one on one time with a mare, walking through some common techniques to get a horse to trust you.

At first, he’d wondered why she was using such a long rope, since he was fairly certain the distance between a horse and a potential rider during this exercise wasn’t supposed to be that far. Quickly Levi realized that if she got much closer, the horse was not having it. It was truly afraid of her, though she appeared to be making some headway, if she was able to lead the horse around on the long rope while the other horses stayed clear.

Horses that had been trained and bred to retain nerves of steel and ignore their fears, especially in the presence of Titans and the chaos of a battle, and apparently all of them were at least skittish around her. That’s what he’d heard from the stablemaster, anyway.

Not a minor detail to be overlooked. And a problem, if she couldn’t get around it. Clearly, though, she was putting in the effort and time to fix it, and she didn’t mind going at the proper pace instead of trying to rush it. From what he’d been able to observe, she was also approaching the situation with an admirable amount of patience, no outward signs of frustration or anger when she reached a setback and had to back up a foot or so on the rope instead of shortening it a little more. Her approach changed slightly each time, too, attempting to adjust to fix whatever she’d done wrong the previous try.

Well, at least she had some positive character traits to be discovered alongside the worrisome fact about the horses he wasn’t going to ignore. So he could give her some merit while his suspicion raised a little more.

“Captain.”

Levi turned at the sound of his title, noticing the individual approaching him from the main building, a file in hand. He snapped a salute when he reached Levi, then held out the file for him to take. “You asked for the file on Cadet Y/N L/N.”

Levi nodded and took the file from him. “Thanks. You can go,” he said in a distracted tone, already opening the file as the soldier walked away.

His eyes scanned the information in the file, which was surprisingly scarce. Her place of residence was formerly Wall Rose, there was no living family, no record as he thought there might be after their spar. She ranked sixth in her class--which didn’t at all match the spar they’d had, and gave further credit to his belief she was purposely holding herself back even when it mattered for placement. Maybe she wanted to avoid the spotlight? She wanted her talents to be recognized, but she didn’t want them front and center since she was still trying to scrape by without her full potential being noticed. She excelled in individual evaluations, especially the physical and instinctual, but seemed to have some problem with others. It was noted in her file that she was a loner and outcast during training, suggesting teamwork might be a point of issue with her. The opinion of her classmates might shed some light on that matter--it could have easily been the other party and not necessarily her that was the issue. Some of her classmates had joined the Scouts as well, if he remembered correctly, so there were some around that could be asked.

Levi reached the end of the file far sooner than he expected.

There weren’t any official documents giving age or place of birth, just an inked in note marking that she was in her early twenties--older than most new recruits, strangely enough--and the name of the town she was born in. There weren’t any legal documents, and no visible records of her existence before she started leaving a trail behind in Wall Rose two years ago, with a rented space in her name and her official application to join the Cadet Corps the only real official documents here.

That shouldn’t have been possible. Of course, if she lived in the Underground beforehand, it would make perfect sense for her to have no trail until she surfaced, but it was right here in ink that she was born within Wall Rose.

Had she lied? Had she somehow managed to get topside without official immigration and slipped right through the fingers of the authorities? The Underground would have fit a little comfortably in his working picture of her--loner, exceptionally skilled in combat and other physical areas, not having a record before two years ago, the street fighting skills…

He wasn’t going to write off the Underground yet, but how she might have gotten topside needed some fleshing out before he could consider it more seriously.

Appearing out of the blue and an unknown past only made Levi’s unease grow. Maybe if there was more, he could have deduced what her reason for joining the military--hell, joining the Scouts--was.

More questions, and not much in the way of answers.

Dissatisfied, Levi returned to his position resting against the wall with the file now tucked under an arm, watching as the speckled grey horse with the black to white mane gradually came closer to her as the rope slowly shortened, but it’s caution and unexplained fear still kept it out of her arm's reach.

The new recruit in front of him was so nervous he was trembling. He might have thought he was hiding it well, but it was plain as day to Levi, who was leaning against the wall sipping on his cup of tea with eyes fixed forward on the recruit sitting on the other side of his desk. He’d called the young man in as a sort of character reference for L/N, asking him to state his opinion on the young woman’s abilities and if they were an asset to the Scouts.

His final question, however, had caused the recruit’s suddenly shifty demeanor, and Levi’s gaze narrowed slightly at him when he hesitated.

“Are there any qualities you feel she possesses that would be harmful to the Scouts?”

The recruit across from him couldn’t look Levi in the eyes, on the brink of saying something, but for some reason holding himself back. Levi waited for several moments before there was a spark of impatience starting to grow in him.

“Spit it out.”

The recruit’s shoulders hunched slightly, and he started to haltingly speak. “She doesn’t exactly get along with other people.”

Well, that could mean a lot of things. Levi wasn’t the friendliest person in the world, but that didn’t stop him from doing his damn job. Antisocial didn’t necessarily count as something that negated her ability to perform in the field. This kid needed to be more specific.

“Does she start fights with her comrades?” Levi asked bluntly.

“No, but she has been in a few--”

“Does she fail to communicate in the field?”

“Never, though--”

“Is she incapable of working as part of a group?”

“Not really--”

“Does she take actions that could cause harm to other members of the team in the field?”

“I haven’t--”

Levi let out a slow sigh. He kept interrupting the recruit because he didn’t need long winded answers that spun the narrative a certain way. He already knew he couldn’t entirely trust the feedback this kid was going to give him, because either he would downplay her abilities and up-play her flaws to make himself look better, or vice versa to make her look better, all based off the assumption Levi was asking because Levi was looking to have her join his squad.

It wasn’t too far off the mark, but Levi was considering adding her less and less the farther he dug into her background. And while he knew he couldn’t trust much of what the kid was going to say to his face, that wasn’t the point. It was what came after this that mattered the most, and it still gave him something to work with to get a little further in his investigation.

She communicated and worked just fine in a group, and while she had been in fights before, she hadn’t been the one to start them. It was starting to look more like harassment of some degree on the other side that kept her from interacting much with her peers. Aside from the pretty much confirmed antisocial behavior outside of the field, of course.

“You have to be more specific than ‘she doesn’t play well with others.’ I don’t always get along with other people--that doesn’t keep me from doing my job,” Levi deadpanned.

The recruit was really struggling to get it out now, his face all twisted up as he tried to rework his words. “While her skills are undeniable, socially, her relationship with her peers is...poor.”

Is that really what this amounted to? No one liked her because she wasn’t friendly enough with them? “Your complaint is that she’s not a social butterfly?”

“It’s more than that, sir, she’s not…”

Levi waited another five seconds before he decided this wasn’t being productive anymore. Time to kick him out of the office and go on to the next part, then. “Either come up with a solid answer, or I’ll take your silence as a no so you can leave to take care of that constipated look on your face.”

The recruit looked put out and frustrated, but he ended up standing from the chair and leaving, Levi watching him silently from over the rim of his cup and eyes lingering on the door after it had closed.

This sneaking around behind the scenes getting dirt on people was usually more Erwin’s speed, but Levi had been around Erwin long enough to pick up a few tricks of his own to use when necessary, like in moments like this. Levi could be subtle when he wanted to.

A few moments after the recruit walked out his door, Levi finished his tea, set down the empty cup on his desk, and followed after him, keeping far enough back that he wouldn’t be noticed. Just as he’d suspected, the recruit found his way back to another pair of recruits and proceeded to go about cathartically bitching about the situation.

Levi missed the part where the other two asked why Levi wanted to talk to him in his office, but since that wasn’t the important part, Levi wasn’t too concerned, stopping just around the corner and pressing his shoulder against the wall to listen in to what they really had to say about L/N when it wasn’t being filtered by the intimidation of speaking with a superior.

“Of course miss ice princess is being considered for Captain Levi’s squad. Why wouldn’t she?” the recruit who had been in Levi’s office was fuming.

“I don’t get why you two are so upset--if Captain Levi’s already asking about her, surely that’s because she has the potential, right?” asked the young woman in their group.

“You didn’t train with her--you didn’t see how downright infuriating she was! If it wasn’t for the occasional lost spar round or missed question on a test, or a margin behind someone else in an endurance test, whatever it was, she still somehow managed to look perfect. Even if you were ahead of her, it was like she was right there behind you!”

“Not to mention she didn’t even seem to try,” the third one muttered.

“Exactly! We’d work our asses off, and then she would waltz in and do whatever they asked her to as if it was as natural as breathing! It was so--so--so infuriating!”

“Sounds like you’re jealous,” the woman surmised.

“Wouldn’t you be upset? She didn’t even try! Then to make matters worse, she always acted like she was above us. Yeah she usually beat us all in everything, but she didn’t even try to be nice about it.”

“Yeah--I know this girl who tried to be friends with her part way through training. But she was always treating her like a plague--she’d move further away from her, or she’d ignore her attempts to talk to her or actively dodge her. She made it pretty damn clear she wasn’t in the Corps to make friends. And she was like that with everyone--she never let anyone get closer than necessary to her. Sure, she’d give you some tips in the middle of training, but it was always just what was necessary, and she never let the conversation move to anything personal. She’s a bitch,” the friend added.

“I figured all that time spent by herself, she was just focused on her training. It got me certain that she was going to be top of the class--some say she should have. Hell, I thought she’d be pissed when she got sixth, but I swear she looked pleased. Pleased! And I thought she wanted to at least make the top five with how fucking perfect she seemed.”

“Okay, so she was antisocial in training and she’s good enough at what she did that it made you all jealous. I still don’t see anything that would make you hate her so much. I’ve seen her around a few times and she doesn’t seem nearly as frigid as you all say. Distant, yeah, but she seems...warm, if a bit melancholy,” the woman said thoughtfully.

“Don’t let it fool you. She’s probably just trying to make a better impression now that she’s where she wants to be and is about to get placed--possibly in the best squad, now, too, apparently.” There was the sound of a boot scuffing the stone, then a thwack of a broom handle being thumped against the offender’s head. “Ow! And she’s not warm and she’s not innocent. I don’t know what she was doing, but she was up to something during training, even if we couldn’t prove it.”

“Oh? And what was it? She managed to get an extra loaf of bread on her plate?” the woman asked almost mockingly. Clearly she wasn’t convinced by their ranting.

“One of the most infuriating things about her was how she could break the rules and still get away with it! She used to sneak out all the time at night while we were in the Cadets, but no one could ever catch her. Even when we gave the instructors a warning that she would be sneaking out again soon, she still wouldn’t get caught, and we’d get in trouble for lying about a classmate. Not once was she caught, and we had classmates that could attest to her not being in bed at some point in the night, so we knew it was happening! But we could never prove it. It still drives me nuts to this day!”

“If you kick this floor again, I’ll hit you even harder--you are not messing up the cleaning job I’ve been working so hard on!” the woman fumed suddenly, and there was a bit of a scuffle before things calmed down again.

“I swear, if Captain Levi puts her on his squad I’m going to be so fucking--”

“Look at the bright side, you probably won’t have to deal with her anymore if that happens, because you’re nowhere near that league,” the friend teased. It sounded like there was going to be another scuffle breaking out, so Levi finally stepped around the corner to make himself known.

“Oi.”

The two boys immediately panicked, while the woman snapped to attention, eyes flickering to a fresh scuff mark on the stone with a clearly upset face to see the two were already back to mucking up her hard work. Levi ignored the two who were scrambling to their feet and trying to snap to a salute, walking past all three without even glancing at them.

“Get back to cleaning. And find another place to bitch about superiors,” he added before he continued down the hall and out of earshot once more.

Idiots.

There was nothing wrong with a little bitching to get it out of your system, but at least have the decency to do it somewhere less public where anyone could find and hear you.

However, Levi officially had some honest first hand accounts of her relationship to her peers, and a lead he could follow further into this mystery.

She snuck out a lot at night when she was in the cadets, huh? He wondered if she was still doing that now…

It seemed he had something to do now in the hours insomnia kept him from sleeping. He could keep an eye out to see if she was sneaking out, and try to figure out where she was going on these little escapades if they were, in fact, continuing after leaving the Cadets.

The more he looked into her, the more uneasy he became. He was already at the point where he knew he was going to have to bring up his concerns to Erwin, but he was going to make sure he’d gone as far as he could with this investigation of his before he went to Erwin.

For the first few nights after hearing about L/N’s nightly escapades in the cadets, Levi didn’t catch anything amiss. He was well aware of the best spots in this building to sneak out at this point, and had several points he liked to retreat to for some alone time that just happened to give him a good view of the surrounding area. He was fairly confident that if she tried to sneak out, he would be able to spot her as long as he was looking--which he was.

By the fifth night, he seriously considered the possibility that if she was doing something shady such as meeting a co-conspirator in the the night, the wise thing would be to cut all communication once she was inside the Scouts. If her nightly actions were something dastardly like that, then it was entirely possible that he wouldn’t see her sneak out because she wouldn’t make the attempts now in such a high risk area.

Still, Levi kept an eye out, always near a window at night so he could peer out into the darkness and see anyone trying to slip away if it did happen.

At long last, almost three weeks after the recruits had first arrived, he managed to catch a fleeting glimpse of a hooded figure moving in the darkness away from the building. Believing it to be L/N, he got up from his seat immediately, taking the less forgiving but more direct route of climbing out the window and down to the ground so he could close the distance before she left his sight entirely and he lost track of her. Going through the building down to the ground floor and to a proper exit would have taken him too long, so his unconventional route was one he didn’t second guess.

Landing quietly on the paved stones, Levi crept forward at a walk that was barely restrained from becoming a jog for the first few moments, keeping to the shadows like his quarry as he attempted to follow after her. He wasn’t armed in case there was trouble, mostly because he didn’t get the luxury of enough time to grab a weapon--he’d only caught a fleeting glimpse, so he’d had to act instantly.

Levi managed to catch up to where he would want to be on a tail after two streets, feeling himself settle down internally once he was the desired distance away. She didn’t slow down, plowing forwards with a purpose that told him she knew exactly where she was going and she was going to waste no time getting there--he just had to keep up.

Yes, she. He didn’t have confirmation that it was her, but he was operating off the assumption it was between the story he’d heard and the fact he’d been waiting for something like this to happen and her to be the culprit.

He continued to follow her street after street, taking several corners, occasionally losing sight of her before he caught movement again and continued on the path. After a few minutes, however, he realized these direction changes weren’t exactly pointed and purposeful, but random. They happened too suddenly and without warning for them to be planned.

She knew he was following her, and she was trying to shake him.

Hoping to make her think that she lost him, Levi slowed down his pace, allowing her to pull a little further ahead, far enough away it would be more difficult for him to follow, but at the same time it would give her the impression that he was too far away and that she lost him.

Levi managed to make it a few more streets this way, catching the edge of a cape or a flash of movement as she turned a corner to give him a direction, until suddenly, he realized he couldn’t hear footsteps or any other sound in the night, and he no longer had even a fleeting visual on her in order to give him a sense of direction.

That wasn’t possible. Pulling back had been risky, yes, but he’d been sure he could still keep track of her. And he should have at least been able to hear footsteps in the distance, because she would have had to speed up to lose him so suddenly.

Did she have ODM gear hidden under her cape? Had she taken for the skies to get out of visible range of the streets?

Wanting to test the theory before she could get too far, Levi used window sills, boxes by stalls, wooden awnings, whatever he could to climb up to the roof of one of the buildings, turning around swiftly with his head on a swivel as he tried to catch a glimpse of movement, a figure moving through the night either on ODM gear or on the streets down below.

Nothing. It was just him standing alone on this roof in the night’s silence.

Where the hell had she gone?

“Levi...why didn’t you bring this to my attention sooner?”

Levi scowled, meeting Erwin’s serious expression head on before he turned to move again, occasionally crossing the floor at an extremely slow pace, stopping for a while before he would turn around and move again. Considering Levi usually remained stationary, it counted as a sign of unease.

He had just come to Erwin with what he knew about L/N, which admittedly wasn’t much. For the most part, he was simply telling Erwin about his concerns and a bad feeling that he’d been harboring since meeting her. He did have some legitimate red flags, like her apparent trips out into the night that were continuing here at the Scouts and her lack of a record from before two years ago with nothing to show she might have been from the Underground.

“Because it was just basic curiosity at first, but the more I heard, the more I had to be concerned about,” Levi said pointedly, lips pulled down in a prominent frown as he mulled over everything in his mind.

“Well, based off what you’ve been able to find out, if she is a threat, how much of a threat would she be,” Erwin asked patiently, his eyes continuing to track Levi as he moved about the room. Levi stopped, turning his head slightly in Erwin’s direction.

“Erwin...she had me. In that spar on the training grounds. But at the last second, she shifted and threw the match,” Levi explained quietly.

“...I see.”

Levi turned around all the way to see Erwin sitting forward in his chair, hands laced together in front of him and pressed against his lips, eyebrows furrowed together in contemplation.

“Don’t mark her as an enemy in your mind, yet, Levi. Let this play out a while longer, first. This may be a situation where we need to spring the trap after it’s set to truly know the situation. So far, she hasn’t done anything to hurt humanity’s mission regarding the Titans. I don’t like how many unknowns there are with her, either, which is precisely why we have to approach this correctly. There’s as much a chance we could be wrong as there is that we can be right about her intentions.” Erwin’s hands carefully folded back over one another on top of the table, Erwin turning his gaze on Levi with that expression of his that usually appeared when he was mentally calculating a gamble. “Continue your investigation as you see fit, so long as you don’t outright antagonize her. We don’t want to risk driving her off, if these skills your glimpsing are as strong as your intuition tells you they are. She could still be a great asset if she’s truly on our side. Keep an eye on her, try to figure out at least if her intentions align with our own or run against them.”

“And you?” Levi asked suspiciously, looking to see if that gambling air about Erwin was tipping over into the dangerous side of things.

Erwin hummed. “I’ll do some digging of my own, see what I can find. Of course, if you can’t find anything concrete by the next expedition, going beyond the walls will allow you to get not only a stronger grasp on the skills she’s bringing to the table, but will help with figuring out her general intentions.”

“I don’t like the thought of having to babysit while we’re out there,” Levi returned flatly. Expeditions were far too unpredictable as they were without adding a mysterious woman of unknown capabilities and intentions along for the ride with the task to keep a sharp eye on her and evaluate her every move.

“Then perhaps you’ll want to find out if you can trust her out there or not, first. I know you can’t guarantee finding the answers to all of your questions in such a short amount of time, but you could at least find out if she will have the back of her fellow scouts on the first expedition,” Erwin said with a pointed look. Levi could already tell this mess might get a little ugly, but at the very least, knowing he could trust her not to turn and kill someone on the expedition would go a long way in making his job digging into her background a lot easier.

After Levi gave a nod of confirmation, Erwin continued. “In the meantime, I’ll make sure she’s placed in the formation so that she’s within your sight at all times. Considering the rumors you’ve stirred up that you might be looking to recruit her to your squad, it would only make sense for you to be watching her out in the field to see how she does. It’s also a nice excuse for you to make a few more direct inquiries to L/N, herself. You’ve done plenty of work in the background, I think it’s safe to say you can start approaching her as well. Subtly, of course.”

“After she shook me last night, she might already be on edge,” Levi pointed out. She had to have known someone followed her. There were no guarantees that she knew it was Levi, and he didn’t think she’d had the chance to confirm who was following her any more than he’d had a chance to confirm if he was following her.

“Then be careful about it. But whenever you come to a decision about whether she’s a danger or not, I want to know. This will go a lot smoother and faster if we’re sharing information.”

“I’m not stupid, Erwin,” Levi said with a long-suffering sigh, straightening up. “Anything else?”

Erwin’s lips twitched upwards towards a smile, his hands moving to a drawer to pull out some paper and ink. “Have fun making a new friend.”

Levi scowled again, turning to leave after it was clear Erwin was ready to move on to the next thing. He was a little worried about this task to test L/N’s intentions to help the scouts before going out into the field, especially because he knew that look of Erwin’s meant he would set it up and Levi would simply have to observe.

But, he did have his own ways of testing her out as a person, and some people he could get to help without having to inform them of everything behind it. He was already observing her from a distance and could safely continue to do so. With the rumors going around he was looking to take her in under his wing, he could use that to his advantage to ask a few questions and approach her at the right times.

Yet, despite the fact he knew he would have help in prodding at her to see a bit more of what she was made of, he couldn’t help but notice that his sense of unease that had been tickling in the back of his mind was not shrinking. If anything, it only seemed more prevalent. As long as he continued to have this feeling of unease about her, he wasn’t going to let the matter rest. He was going to figure out what she was hiding, if only so he could assuage or confirm his suspicions before they grew wildly out of control.

At least it seemed Erwin shared his concern, confirming it wasn’t all in his head, and there was cause to worry. He only hoped they could figure out what was going on here before they had to spring the trap, as Erwin had suggested.

Levi shook his head. He could worry about that, later. First, he had a recruit to get a feel of before they went outside the walls, and he had to make sure he didn’t spook her while learning what made her tick.

Thankfully, he already had a pretty good idea where to find her in her down time, with all the work she’d been putting in to fix the one glaring flaw in her ability to go outside the walls.

The stables.

Next Chapter---->

Levi Tags: @clary-quinn @humanitys-hottestsoldier @whalerus @sunny-flo

Wings in the Dark Tags: @regalillegal @animeluver23 @theshylittleelfgirl @queenthorin1 @dilucs-thighs

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some-kindofgnome · 4 years

Text

Kinktober #20: My Turn: Mirio Togata

In which Mirio’s got a game for you.

Characters: Mirio Togata x f!Reader

Warnings: smut (18+ please!), aged up characters, fingering, teasing, edging, tears, Mirio trying his hardest not to be a sunshine boi and only sort of failing

Notes: See? See? I can do thirst. I can make it SEXY. Today’s prompt was “Edging” and I just loved the thought of Mirio trying his best to be a little kinky for you. He’s definitely got a filthy side.

Kinktober Masterlist

It’s a windy Saturday night in November and you’re curled in bed early with Mirio. Raindrops roll along the bias of your windowpane and the wind howls past your upper-level apartment.

But you don’t feel an ounce of cold, with Mirio- warm like the hearth- stretched out next to you. You’ve been like this all day, in and out of bed with episodes of a fluffy sitcom playing constantly in the background.

Now, though, as the chill of the evening’s pushed you closer together, your hands are starting to wander. It’s lazy at first- his rough palm up the edge of your thigh, your fingers dancing along his bicep. You’re easing into one another, and though you can feel the warm apex of where you’ll end up drawing near, you’re in no rush to get there.

Not yet, anyway. You’re about to eat those words.

“Princess,” he croons in your ear, drawing his lips up the side of your neck, “play a game with me?”

“Okay,” you giggle back as warmth blooms across your skin, following the path of his mouth. “But you picked Bananagrams last time, so this time I get to pick. Scrabble.”

He chuckles low and warm into your shoulder. Just the reaction you were hoping for. But he knows you’ve caught on, so he doesn’t even offer you a response. His mood has completely shifted.

That’s what you love so much about him.

“I wanna see how long you can last,” he murmurs. His fingers continue to trace up and down your thigh, as if he’s coaxing you around to the idea. But to you, it sounds like you’re going to get to do a whole lot of nothing while Mirio does his best to please you.

You don’t need any more coaxing than that.

“Like, without coming?” You hum, shifting a little so you can get a proper look at his face. He flicks his eyes up to yours, looking a little sheepish, but sure.

“Yeah. Y’know. I wanna test your stamina.”

You’re not exactly sure how to tell him that stamina isn’t a problem for you. He’s certainly never fallen short of satisfying you, but most of your sex life has been characterised by getting there in the first place, let alone measuring how long it takes you. You’ve never really had to hold out before- at least, not like he has.

This is going to be a cinch for you.

“Alright.” You smirk, but he’s one step ahead of you, already sliding his hand to your belly and starting to inch it toward the bottom of your shirt. You’ve got a flannel buttoned over your shoulders to keep the chill out, but it’s your day off and there’s no possible way he could have convinced you to wear pants.

Not that he’d tried.

He dips his face into your neck again, starting to kiss and lave his tongue over your delicate skin. You lean into the sensation eagerly, letting your eyes flutter shut as his fingers work their way toward the apex of your thighs.

The laugh track sounds quietly from the television as you let yourself relax. Mirio’s fingers are chilled as they dip into the hem of your panties, but he’s thrilled by the opportunity to pay you this kind of attention. He’s always so eager to get his hands on you. And you’re hardly ever in a position to deny him.

“I knew you were holdin’ out on me, princess,” he chuckles as his middle finger curls against your slit. You’re already growing wet with the anticipation of his touch, the shivers that his attentive mouth sent over your skin. He turns your chin with his free hand and drops a lazy kiss to your lips. All the while, he continues to gently explore your folds, working you open for him.

As he draws his wrist up to search for the swell of your clit, you’re starting to wonder if you do need to worry about your stamina. He’s barely touched you and already you’re starting to get those lovely little twinges of pleasure that have your hips twitching beneath his touch.

He grins, pulling his mouth teasingly from yours. “You’re gonna tell me if you’re about to cum, right?”

You never realized that his game was going to come with so many rules. But you know your own body- you’re more than ready to follow them.

“In that case, you might want to slow down, baby,” you breathe. Mirio laughs, nuzzling your neck and breathing hot puffs of air across your skin. The pad of his middle finger centers on your clit and he starts to circle in earnest.

“I could,” he quips, “or I could make it harder on you.”

His wrist flicks deftly back and forth between your legs. There’s something about the spot he’s found that’s tantalizingly perfect, and you can feel the tension building in the pit of your stomach. You purse your lips tightly, ready to ride that wave.

“Ooh,” you sigh, gripping Mirio’s thigh hard. “I’m close, baby.”

“That so?” He grunts in your ear. There’s an unfamiliar edge to his tone, but you don’t pick up on it yet.

“Yeah,” you whine, and he pulls his hand clean out of your panties. Your hips arch as you give a sullen little whimper. Immediately, you turn to face him.

“Why’d you stop?”

Mirio’s grinning. Normally, that grin sets you at ease. But there’s something about it today that sends a spike of nerves through your belly. He’s planning something.

You’re not sure you want to know what it is. You’re also not sure he’s going to give you a choice in the matter.

“I didn’t want the game to be over so soon, princess. C’mere.”

He slips a beefy arm around your waist and tugs you easily into his lap, situating you between his splayed thighs and letting you lean back against his chest. From there, he digs his fingers into the hem of your panties and tugs them down your thighs, helping you kick them off.

“Just relax,” he croons. “Watch TV. I gotcha.”

He brings his fingers to your pussy again, this time sliding his other hand under your thigh to join. He sinks two thick fingers into your slit, rubbing tight circles into your clit again. It doesn’t take you long at all to reach the edge. Before you can even warn him this time, Mirio stops again.

“Mirio,” you plead softly, but he’s still chuckling and nuzzling you, over and over again.

“You’re so cute when you want something from me. C’mon, let’s go again.”

He brings you to the edge one more time like that, pushing you so close you can practically taste the relief. When he pulls away for the third time, you’re squirming and fussing in between his legs.

“Let me cum,” you whimper. You’re not even proud about asking for it anymore. He shifts, crawling out from behind you and easing you onto your back.

“Don’t worry,” he continues. “I gotcha, princess. You think I’m gonna leave you high and dry?”

You glare daggers up at him, and he just shoots you an easy wink as he slips between your thighs.

“You’re getting tender down here,” he purrs, nosing his way up your inner thigh as he settles onto his belly. “Y’almost ready for me?”

“I was ready for you weeks ago,” you grumble. You can’t stay angry for long when he puffs hot air over your clit, then drags his tongue along the folds of your pussy and swirls.

He eats you out like a man starved, holding your hips taught against his mouth as he fucks you with his tongue. When you’re sure you can’t take any more, he lifts his chin, tonguing the swell of your clit and making you scream.

But he still doesn’t let you go. He pulls back from your pussy as you start to tremble, and when he does you let out a sob of such frustration that, when you open your eyes, his brow is creased with legitimate concern.

“Why won’t you let me cum?” You blubber.

“Aw, man.” Mirio stretches out next to you and pulls you into his arms. “I didn’t mean to make you cry, princess, I-I just wanted to try something new with you. I-I thought…”

“Please,” you sniffle, “please, Mirio, just fuck me, before I do it myself.”

He pauses and looks down at you in shock. For a moment, his eyes search yours. Then he breaks down, grinning fondly at you.

“Okay,” he agrees. “Alright.”

He gets back between your legs, shucking his boxer-briefs and quickly stripping out of his t-shirt. As soon as he’s bare you can see how much he’s been enjoying your little game. His cock is already rock solid, flushed and curving perfectly towards his belly.

“God,” he sighs, casting a gaze over your desperate form. “Look at you.”

He pushes your flannel up around your chest, exposing your ribcage and your chest. His thumbs strum your nipples. Then he grips your hips, positioning himself and easing smoothly into you.

Your head falls back against the pillows. Utter bliss.

But you can’t trust this pleasure.

He starts rocking his hips forward, undulating into you with dull cries of you’re so tight for me, princess, and I can’t believe you made it this far.

You don’t last much longer than that.

As soon as he settles into a familiar rhythm, the slap of his body against yours is enough to push you precariously close. You squirm underneath him, doing your best to hold out.

“Miri…Mirio, c-can I…” you choke, peering up at him as he continues to fuck you diligently.

“Of course, princess, shit,” he sighs, buckling over you. “Let go for me. Please. I wanna see it.”

The build-up has been immense. And the fall does not disappoint. You tumble over the edge like an avalanche, seizing hard around him as you grip his hips tightly with your trembling thighs. Your back pulls clean off the bed.

Your vision goes white.

When the spots clear he’s panting above you, his cock already going soft inside you. But you don’t care. He made good on his promise- you are neither high nor dry.

“There you go,” he coos, pressing tender kisses across your collar bones and down your shoulders. “That’s it. God, you’re so pretty when you’re coming your brains out.”

You muster a weak chuckle, pulling him into your arms as he collapses beside you. The TV is still playing, and you slowly settle back into watching together as you bask in the afterglow of Mirio’s vicious game.

“So that was… okay, in the end,” he finally says, tracing a fingertip down the buttons of your flannel as you tug the warm fabric back into place.

“Yeah,” you agree sleepily. “It was fun.”

“So we can do it again sometime?” He quips carefully. You purse your lips, pretending to mull it over.

“Sure.”

He bolts upright. “Really?”

You pillow your arms behind your head and smirk.

“Yeah. Only next time it’s my turn.”

#my hero academia #mirio x reader #mirio togata x reader #mirio togata #mha lemillion #lemillion fanfic #kinktober #jbbkinktober2020 #lemillion #mirio #mha fanfiction #boku no hero academia #bnha fanfiction

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babbysquid · 3 years

Text

Not A Whiskey Drinker Pt. 4

Author’s Note: Okay so I got a bit carried away with this chapter but I couldn’t help myself so it’s about twice as long as previous chapters. This is where things really start to get more plot based so the story will really get moving from here. The way I’ve planned out the plot so far though it’ll be several chapters long so get buckled up!

Warnings: mild cursing, suggestive language, Jack “Whiskey” Daniels needs his own warning

Length: 2,586 words

Not A Whiskey Drinker Masterlist

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

“She almost broke the man’s arm Champ!” said Whiskey, phone to his ear.

“I don’t care. If you’re exaggerating this skill of hers she’ll be a liability.”

“She won’t be a liability!” Whiskey was seething at this point. Yes it had only been a few days, but somehow he had become protective over you. Seeing you twist the man’s arm back at the bar lit a fire somewhere deep inside his stomach. Whiskey heard a sigh through the phone.

“Fine. You’re training her and she’ll be your responsibility. Don’t fuck it up Whiskey.”

With that Champagne hung up. Whiskey was buzzing with excitement. With the combination of your quick wit and your apparent hand to hand combat skill you were definitely capable of becoming an agent with the Statesmen.

The ding of the elevator stirred Whiskey from his thoughts. Strutting out of his office he quickly caught up to you.

“Whiskey.”

“Mornin’ Y/N. How’s my lovely little lady today?” you rolled your eyes and shook your head, continuing towards your office. Along with your normal bag you had also brought a tote bag that contained some office necessities. After setting your bags down you pulled out an electric tea kettle and made your way towards a shelf to find a spot for it.

“Y/N think fast!” came Whiskey’s voice as he threw the mug that sat on your desk. You quickly spun around and caught the mug before it could smash on the floor.

“You’re the absolute worst.”

“Not a coffee drinker either?” Whiskey said, eyeing the variety of teabags you pulled from your tote.

“Nope. Coffee is a slap in the face. Tea feels like a hug.”

Whiskey gave his standard full body laugh.

“You really are somethin’ darlin’.”

“Out.” you said, ushering him out of your space. “Come back if you need me.”

“Ya know if I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re the boss and I’m the assistant.” Whiskey leaned against the door frame as he said this.

“Whiskey…” you said with a grumble, trying to push him from the door, but the man wasn’t budging. Bending down he whispered in your ear,

“I am a mighty fan of switching up the dynamic every once in a while.” he said and you could almost feel his smirk against your skin.

“Out!” and you shut the door on his face.

‘I swear to god this man will be the death of me.’

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

The rest of the day was fairly standard. Random errands Whiskey needed, picking up lunch, sorting through notes, etc. The only difference between today and the previous was the fact that Whiskey kept throwing things at you any chance he got.

“So I organized these files and highlight all the—“ Before you could finish your sentence you looked up as a pen, a baseball, and a full bottle of whiskey were flying at you. Quickly you caught them all and managed to keep the files you were holding in your hands as well.

“Whiskey what the fuck?”

Initially it felt like Whiskey’s standard teasing, but at this point it was ridiculous and was getting on your nerves. If you didn’t catch the whiskey bottle it would’ve made a huge mess and you were most likely the one who would have to clean said mess.

“Wouldn’t have thrown ‘em if I knew you weren’t gonna catch ‘em.” said Whiskey from behind his desk, propping his feet up on the wood and stretching his arms behind his head.

You were too focused on the files when you entered his office that you didn’t realize Whiskey had taken off his blazer and tie. He was wearing his standard white dress shirt and some suspenders. He had the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows and you couldn’t help but stare at his tanned arms. You didn’t realize how much muscle the man had. You shook your head.

“Why do you keep throwing shit at me?”

“Oh darlin’,” Whiskey stood up and pulled the bottle of whiskey and the baseball out of your hands, set them down on his desk and leaned on the wooden table. “just testing your reflexes and reaction time.”

“Ginger was right.”

“Hmm?” said Whiskey, pulling his suspenders off his shoulders and popping open the bottle of whiskey. You stared as he brought the bottle to his lips. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he took a swig. He licked his lips and you felt a shiver run through your body.

“I’m waiting darlin’.” he said with a smirk. He knew you were staring. He had made sure you were staring.

“She said you were a character.”

“I have been called larger than life.”

“Uh, anyways here are the files.” Reaching out to hand the files to your boss, his hand met yours and once again the two of you froze. The only movement coming from the room was the rise and fall of your chests and Whiskey’s thumb making slow circles on the back of you hand.

“Jack I— oh.”

You immediately moved your hand and Whiskey took the files from you at the sound of Ginger’s voice.

“Sorry.” said Ginger, giving you an apologetic look. “Champ gave me some…” Ginger paused, looking for the right word. “updates — classified updates — that you need to hear Jack.”

“Guess that’s my cue.” you said, making your way out of the office.

“Get home safe Y/N.” said Whiskey giving you a smile. Your heart fluttered in response.

‘Stop. You cannot have feelings for your boss. Especially Whiskey.’

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

It was finally Friday after work and to say you were exhausted was an understatement. The rest of the week had been pretty straightforward minus some odd behavior from Whiskey. He continued to randomly throw things at you or ask seemingly random questions.

‘How quickly can you run a mile?’

‘About 7 and a half minutes.’

‘Ever got in a fist fight?’

‘No, but I’ve prevented some from starting.’

‘How flexible are you?’

That question you decided to ignore. There was one question, however, that kept replaying in your mind over and over again.

‘Have you ever shot a gun?’

When he asked the question you stopped in your tracks. Sure he was from the South so he most definitely had experience with firearms but you? Nope. Frankly, guns scared the shit out of you. Why did he want to know?

‘No. My dad and brother would go to shooting ranges occasionally but never took me. But if they asked I would’ve said no.’

You pondered his reasoning for all these questions as you took a shower. The questions could’ve been an attempt to get to know you better but they were nothing along the lines of ‘where did you grow up?’ ‘do you have any pets?’ or ‘what’s your favorite color?’. You were stirred from your thoughts by a knock at the door.

Parker.

“One second!” you called, stepping out of the shower and pulling a towel around yourself. You rushed to the door leaving a small trail of wet footprints behind you.

“You really had the audacity to knock while I was—“

“Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes.” came a thick accent. Your eyes widened immediately and you swallowed.

“Whiskey?”

“You gonna let me in darlin’?”

You were too shocked to do anything other than follow his request. Stepping aside to allow him to enter you shut the door behind you.

“Nice place. Nice getup too.” he said with a wink.

You were suddenly hyperaware of the current state of your appearance. Your hair was dripping wet and you were naked other than a much too small towel wrapped around yourself. Your boss (your very attractive boss) was in your apartment and you were essentially naked.

“One second.” you said, and ran back to the bathroom to change into the clean clothes you pulled from your closet before. Throwing on your sleep shorts and a large shirt you stormed out of the bathroom to confront Whiskey.

“Firstly, how the hell did you get my address and secondly, why the fuck are you here?”

“Firstly,” said Whiskey, putting his hands on your shoulders attempting to make you calm down. “I told you we did a background check. And secondly,” he guided the two of you over to your small couch and placed a plastic bag on your coffee table. “I brought dinner.” You narrowed your eyes and glared at him.

“What is it?” your voice still tinged with anger.

“Sushi.”

After a minute you responded.

“Okay fine you can stay.”

Whiskey took several boxes of sushi out of the bag and all your favorites were there. Your mind was doing flips to figure out much all this costed. Sushi was not cheap, especially from the restaurant he got it from.

“How’d you know sushi is my favorite?”

“Background checks.”

“Okay now I can’t tell if you’re joking or not.” Whiskey just gave you a smile and dug into the food. The two of you ate in silence. While scarfing down your sushi as politely as possible, it had been a long time since you had your favorite food, you observed the man next to you. He still had his black Stetson and black cowboy boots, but his slacks and blazer had been replaced by some tight fitting jeans and a matching denim jacket. The same camel coat he wore when you first met was hanging on the hook on the back of your door.

“Those gears in your head are turning darlin’.”

“Why’d you actually come here? I doubt it was just to buy me dinner.”

“Straight to business sugar? I do have to admit you’re not wrong about my intentions.” Whiskey pulled off his hat and sat it down on the coffee table. A hand went up to smooth his hair down and he turned to face you directly, a serious look on his face.

“As you’ve probably noticed Statesman Brewery is… different. We are a brewery but we’re also something more. First and foremost we are a secret independent intelligence agency.”

You choked and almost inhaled the gulp of water you were swallowing.

“I know it’s bizarre darlin’ but please don’t hurt yourself,” he said, placing a hand on your knee. “even if I wouldn’t mind doing some CPR on a catch such as yourself.” You gave him the standard look you gave him when he said these types of comments. “I wasn’t just throwing shit at you to scare you and those questions I asked? Bit of a verbal test if you will.”

“Okay now tell me the actual truth.”

“I’m serious Y/N.” his eyes darkened slightly. “You have the makings to be an agent.”

“And you think that because I caught some random crap you threw at me and because I can run a mile slightly faster than the average person?” you leaned against the couch, arms crossed. Whiskey seemed serious about what he was saying, but you weren’t fully convinced yet.

“You were at The Parking Lot on Tuesday.”

“Okay what the fuck are you stalking me now? More ‘background check’ stuff?” you said, making air quotes with your fingers.

“That was pure coincidence. Promise on my late mama’s soul.” Whiskey raised a hand and traced an ‘X’ over his heart. “I saw that ungodly man try to have his way. Was close to stopping things myself before I saw you twist his arm around his back. You were faster than a jackrabbit.”

“You saw that?”

“Sugar, the whole bar saw it. But even if the bar didn’t, I still would’ve. The second I saw you and your friend walk in, well, let’s just say I wasn’t interested in watching the football game anymore.”

Whiskey had been watching you. He saw you act fast and save yourself from that dick at the bar. Subconsciously you pulled your shoulders back and your heart swelled with pride.

“You showed him who’s boss.” Whiskey winked, repeating the phrase that seemed to keep coming up.

“Okay okay so let me get this straight. You’re some sort of secret agent, whose coverup is a business man in the alcohol industry.”

“So far so good sugar.”

“And you’re suggesting that I join this secret intelligence agency?”

“Not so much suggesting as I am insisting but other than that you’re right on the money.”

“Did you hire me as your assistant with the intent of offering me a position as an agent?”

“That, darlin’, was all you. You impressed me that night. Spoke to Champ and Ginger about it and convinced them that you’d be a good agent.”

“Champ and Ginger are agents too?” Your eyes widened. “Is Sara the receptionist one too?” Whiskey laughed at this question and your curiosity.

“No Sara is not an agent. Only a handful of people in the New York and California offices are agents. The rest of them are at the Kentucky branch.”

You paused thinking about your next question and looked down at your hands. You couldn’t help but fidget, anxious about how Whiskey would answer the next question.

“And what if I say no?”

“That’s not really an option.”

You swallowed hard and looked back up to meet Whiskey’s eyes. He had a serious look, but that seriousness slowly melted into something softer. Hope? Encouragement? Something else? He shifted on the couch so his knees touched yours.

“I have seen what you can do. You’ve got reflexes like a cat, almost broke a man’s arm.”

“He deserved it.” you grumbled.

“No arguments there darlin’. You have what it takes. Sure you’re gonna need training and whatnot but you’ll get the best of the best at Statesman. Besides, you’ll have the top teacher we have to offer. Me.” There was that million dollar smile again.

“Okay initially I was on board, but after hearing that I’ll have to spend more time with you? Kill me or dispose of me or whatever the ‘not option’ option is.” You jumped at the intense laugh that came out of the man in front of you.

“Darlin’ you’re breaking my heart.”

“And you’re breaking my sanity.” you rolled your eyes and started to put away leftovers from dinner. When you closed the door to the fridge you heard Whiskey’s voice in your ear.

“You haven’t said no.”

You turned around, practically chest to chest with Whiskey.

“Doesn’t really feel like I have a choice cowboy.” giving him a smirk. Whiskey reached around your waist to grab a pen that was on the kitchen counter. It felt like he was cornering you, but something inside you welcomed it. Whiskey scribbled on the notepad that sat next to the pen, ripped the page off, and pressed the paper into your palm.

“Pack your stuff for a week long trip. Meet me at that location on Monday morning at 6am.”

With that Whiskey turned and grabbed his coat and hat, making his way to the door.

“Sweet dreams darlin’.” he said, tipping his hat and closing the door behind him. You glanced down at the paper. His handwriting was much nicer than you were expecting. All that was on the paper was an address located in a really nice part of the city and a phone number. You could only assume it was Whiskey’s cell phone number. The only other thing on the paper was a small heart with a ‘W’ inside it. You didn’t want to acknowledge it, but seeing that doodle made warmth spread across your chest.

taglist: @absurdthirst @space-daddy-owns-me @agentwhiskeypussyindulgence @littlemissoblivious @agingerindenial @mack4676 @loveforminato @thats-one-tender-foot @xwingsandohs @purplepascal042 @harami-mami @nova646 @lesbianlena @computeringturtle @cassandras-nest

#NAWD #not a whiskey drinker #jack daniels #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels x you #agent whiskey #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you

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myundeadgayson · 3 years

Text

Ahoy, We are Castaways AU, but not really because Gunk and Ishmael find Pirates:

@bluwards So.... I mayhaps wrote an entire thing for your idea?

For anyone wondering, here’s the link to the OG au idea post: https://bluwards.tumblr.com/post/661885099380506624/au-where-tommy-and-wilbur-were-part-of-a-pirate

This might not be exactly what you were hoping for of this, but I had an image in my mind and just went HAM on it. Like, I mean that as in I started this at like... 1am last night and I finished at like 4pm today??? I’m not saying I wrote that entire time, but I am saying that I literally just NEEDED to finish this because it’s SUCH A FUN IDEA. (I’m sorry for writing so much by the way! I got excited.)

Notes: None of this is historically accurate to literally anything, especially history and pirates. Instead, we’re gonna image this is some fun fantasy world where like. Pirates are out chilling in the world stealing shit and royalty exists somewhere enough you can be like “yeah, i’m royal. try to prove i’m not bitch.” (Also, I’ll post this on Ao3 later and edit with the link after I sleep. For now, please enjoy!) Words: 5160 Characters: Wilbur Soot, TommyInnit, Philza Minecraft, and Technoblade

The heat must be getting to him. It must be because there’s no way that’s a ship he’s seeing out on the horizon. It seems to be drawing closer, but it’s not near enough to tell, not that it would matter anyway. It’s not real. It’s not real, he tells himself. It has to be a mirage. As if their luck would ever be that good.

Wilbur rests his head back down into Tommy’s mess of curls. The two of them are curled together underneath the shade of the treeline. His back is pressed against the rough, uneven bark of a palm tree with his bare feet digging into the sand. Tommy’s eyes are closed. His little brother is tucked tight against his side, dozing softly as the slight breeze ruffles his dirty hair.

If Wilbur tried, he could pretend Tommy was just resting. He could pretend this was the two of them relaxing on some beach that they’ve gotten all to themselves. He could imagine that Tommy tuckered himself out, now the two of them were peacefully dozing off in the shade on a lovely Summer day as the gentle sea wind blew.

In that fantasy, they would have chosen to be here on this beach. A beach would make for a good day trip, he thinks. He imagines that it would be a beach off the coast of a small town. He’d take Tommy early in the morning down past the docks and watch Tommy hop along stones down a path leading towards the sand. Wilbur would make him carry a basket of bread and other treats that they might have gotten from a kind baker that didn’t mind that their pockets were a little low. Wilbur would smile and promise to repay them, and it’d be a real promise instead of a sharp-toothed lie.

He’d bring a threadbare sheet because they’d have one to spare for it. He’d spread it along the sand and bask in the sun’s rays. He’d open his eyes occasionally to Tommy’s excited shouts as his brother pulled odd shells and tiny hermit crabs from the ocean, then laugh as Tommy shouted obscenities when they inevitably fell from his hands because Tommy was anything but careful. A few shells would be saved though, and Tommy would make a small pile of them on the corner of the sheet for them to keep.

Tommy would eventually tug Wilbur up to join him. Wilbur would laugh and pretend to be reluctant as his brother guided him down towards the water until the warm waves lapped at their feet. Tommy would grin at him, bright as the sun overhead and his hair sparkling like strands of gold. He’d look so proud of himself as he showed Wilbur more shells and other interesting things he found.

Along the way, one of them would splash the other whether it be accidentally or not, and it’d start a war. Wilbur would laugh until his ribs were sore as he smacked water Tommy’s way and listened to the younger shout insults back at him. It’d all be in good fun and it’d show in Tommy’s toothy grin as the blond would get some harebrained idea of how to “win” their little game and it’d end with them both falling into the water. They’d be soaked to the bone and Wilbur would playfully smack water at Tommy’s face for getting them both wet, but it’d be fine in the end because they would sit out in the sun until their clothes dried. In this fantasy, Wilbur could imagine it wouldn’t matter anyway because once they went home, they’d have more clothes to change into and one pair wouldn’t be missed for a day.

When the sun started to set over the horizon, Wilbur would gather them up to leave. He’d gather up their food and make Tommy carefully fold up the sheet. It’d end up balled up instead and Wilbur would tease Tommy for his shit folding skills. They’d stay an extra few minutes to stare off at the sunset as it glistened over the calm waters. All would feel peaceful until Tommy ruined the moment with some joke that’d make Wilbur smack him upside the head, even though he’d laugh all the same.

They’d walk home with Tommy’s shells tucked safely into their pockets under the soft pink skies. A perfect background to a perfect day.

It would be nice, lovely even, because in that world they’d go home to some nice place Wilbur managed to keep for them in some nice town. It’d be real and theirs, and they’d each have a warm bed to sleep in and food in their stomachs. It might be small, but small was okay because they’d both be happy and they’d have nothing to fear.

If only life were ever so kind.

It was a nice daydream, but if Wilbur were to look down, it’d shatter. It’d shatter if he listened at all to the way Tommy’s breathing sounded off. With every low breath, his brother’s chest would shutter. Wilbur could feel it every time.

Tommy’s nose was red and peeling, as were his cheeks and shoulders. His freckles were hidden beneath the furious scarlet and white flecks. His skin had gotten tanner, but the dark rings under his eyes made him look ghastly. Wilbur was sure that he looked about the same himself, but seeing it on Tommy was different.

The boy was thin enough before they’d gotten stranded, but now his limbs looked just too small. Wilbur could practically see the bones poking through. If it weren’t for the blaring sun overhead tanning their skin, Wilbur was sure that Tommy would look more like a walking skeleton than a teenager.

They’d got thrown overboard days ago. Wilbur lost track of how many. He stopped really caring when he realized there were other things to care about, like keeping them alive.

Luck had never been on their side. Wilbur had known that since they were little and a twelve-year-old found himself in charge of a five-year-old.

The world’s always been against them. It started early with a mother too young to be on her own with a child. She was struggling enough as it was to keep them fed that when that one child turned to two, the odds for any of them getting by turned minimal. Even with Wilbur doing his best to help, swindling and snatching up food and loose change off of oblivious folk in the city, hope was running thin.

It was amazing she’d ever gotten so far. Wilbur hated to see it that way now, but it was the truth. The fact she’d ever made it to Tommy’s fifth birthday was incredible. When the sickness set in though, no amount of Wilbur’s efforts could seem to help her. Eventually, she’d stopped waking up entirely and Wilbur was left on his own to care for his little brother.

Luck ran out, but they made their own with time.

After losing their mother, Wilbur packed them up and they were off. He taught Tommy every trick he knew. They traveled endlessly, hopping from place to place just to keep moving whenever it seemed like any townsfolk around started catching onto their games. Wilbur tried a few odd jobs every time for money in places, and Tommy was tiny enough that he could sneak bread and other foods off vendors to bring back to whatever tiny hole they’d called home at that moment.

As they both got older, the tricks got better. Their stories were perfected and their act was flawless if ever they needed to talk someone into lending them a place out of pity, or a new job.

When Wilbur caught sight of a ship though, he’d thought they were golden. Sure, he only knew vaguely about working them. He’d taken on a few jobs on some docks before, but he’d never been on a ship himself. The thought was meant to be that if he could get on that ship for a job, he could bring Tommy along with him. They’d stay there and hop off at the first chance they could once they’d landed in a new country, then they’d start over for real. They’d start over fresh in a new place entirely and everything might be okay! They could make life whatever they wanted because no one would be able to know otherwise!

And everything did feel okay for a while. Turns out the ship Wilbur found was a crew of pirates, but like always, Wilbur managed to talk his way through. Tommy played along perfectly, and before they knew it, they became crew. Perhaps they were there for nothing more than playing clean-up, but they would take what they could get.

Their luck was turning up. As Wilbur started working his way through making connections with the crew, he was starting to think maybe he’d found a place for them. They wouldn’t stay, of course, but it made sense, didn’t it?

The constant traveling and plundering— that kind of life was meant for them. However, there were also rules to follow and heavy risks in not doing so. Neither of them were good at following rules, but they were good actors all the same that could fake it until their last breath. But for a short time, it felt like a good fit and Wilbur remembered telling Tommy as such.

Tommy was much more reluctant. He was getting by, but he didn’t like it there. Maybe Wilbur was succeeding, but Tommy was younger. His limbs were all thin and gangly, and it made him look weaker than he was. The crew would shove him around and they’d always be too loud in his ears. Tommy was rather loud himself, but when you’re trying to hold your tongue to survive, it wasn’t like he could exactly defend himself.

So maybe they didn’t see eye to eye about it, but that was fine. Wilbur agreed they’d only be there a little longer because the moment they docked somewhere new, they’d be off and onto wherever life would take them next.

Unfortunately, their luck ran out.

It all happened in a blur. Wilbur remembered when the storm hit. It was rougher than normal. He remembered fighting with the rest of the crew to take care of the ship. They were fighting hard to stay afloat as the waves rocked the ship from side to side so hard that Wilbur feared they would tip.

The ship didn’t tip, but Tommy did.

He could still vividly remember Tommy slipping. He’d watched in horror the way his brother scrambled for purchase on something, anything. He’s just barely caught the side of the ship.

Wilbur went after him, not caring in the slightest for whatever task he’d abandoned. He’d tried to help yank Tommy back aboard. Tommy, who held on with white knuckles and fingernails digging into the wood with fear in his eyes. Wilbur tried to reassure him, but he was sure his words got lost in the raging winds. He’d tried to pull Tommy back onto the deck, and for a moment, he was succeeding. He almost managed to pull Tommy back on board.

Right as he thought he’d gotten Tommy back though, the ship hit another furious set of waves. The brothers got thrown hard, and suddenly they were both going down.

It was a miracle they didn’t drown.

Wilbur sighed, closing his eyes once again. He tried to block out the memories of rushing water and Tommy’s screams of his name. He could still taste the seawater on his tongue as it tried to flood his lungs.

They’d gotten tossed endlessly in the waves. The ship was forgotten in the battle to just hold on to each other.

He combed his fingers through Tommy’s hair. The boy didn’t even respond. He must have finally fallen asleep, Wilbur thought to himself. Sleep hadn’t been easy to find since they’d woken up ashore. Though the island seemed abandoned, neither of them could be sure there wasn’t some hidden danger lurking somewhere. Their sunburns didn’t make it easy either with the way their skin would ache. Even in the shade or the dark of the night, they’d struggle to find enough comfort to rest at all.

He was glad Tommy was getting some sleep now. He was getting rather tired himself. As much as he’d like to give in, one of them needed to stay awake just in case.

Wilbur groaned as he forced his eyes to peel open once more. As his vision started to clear, he noticed the mirage was getting closer. The blurry shape of the ship was getting bigger. It was looking like it was getting ready to dock at the edge of the island at any minute. Or at least it would if it were actually real.

Wilbur huffed, resting his cheek on Tommy’s head. He watched idly as the ship grew closer and closer to the edge of the shore. It wasn’t coming straight towards them. It was heading more towards the left edge of the island where the trees were a bit more scattered, but the shoreline was still mostly clear of rocks.

It wasn’t until it was starting to look suspiciously more and more lifelike that Wilbur started to get more intrigued.

Furrowing his brows, he lifted his head. He pulled away from Tommy some to sit up further. Tommy groaned in protest. The motion caused the boy to slide down, his head resting more on Wilbur’s chest than shoulder. Wilbur wanted to hush him and whisper soft apologies for disturbing him at all. Unfortunately, the ship’s drawing nearer by the second and Wilbur could feel something akin to hope bubbling up in his throat.

He frantically nudged at Tommy’s side, “Tommy. Tommy, wake up.”

“Augh…” Tommy rolled his head, burying his face further into Wilbur’s shirt with an annoyed whine. He weakly smacked at Wilbur’s arm, “Fuck off, Wilbur… M’tryin’ to sleep, asshole…”

As much as Wilbur wished he could agree, he needed Tommy’s eyes. “Get up! I think I see something,” Wilbur urged. He shoved Tommy off him until the boy got the hint to sit up on his own.

The blond looked absolutely pitiful. Tommy rubbed at his tired eyes with his fists. Wilbur’s chest ached with remorse for having bothered him, but he told himself that again, it could be for good reason.

“What the fuck’re you on about?” Tommy mumbled irritably.

“Look! Look there,” Wilbur hissed, pointing out at the ship. It seemed to be getting ready to dock. Tiny figures could be seen moving along the deck, grabbing at ropes and such. “Do you see that?”

It took a moment for Tommy to follow where he was pointing. The boy was still getting his bearings on being awake again. Wilbur almost turned Tommy’s head himself to see though. Patience was growing thin as their potential hope of being able to escape was growing stronger, but he needed to be sure. It could be his mind playing cruel tricks on him. The exhaustion could finally be taking its toll, and maybe Tommy would be of no help because he could be seeing nothing as well, but the chances of them imagining the same ship with the same little people had to be high.

“See wha’?” Tommy’s voice was still groggy from sleep. The boy’s eyes slowly followed Wilbur’s finger towards the ship. Wilbur watched as the recognition clicked into place and all at once their hope seemed more plausible. Tommy’s eyes widened, “T-That’s— Wilbur, that’s a ship!” His head whipped around to look up at Wilbur. “That’s a real ship, innit?! Please tell me that’s real!”

The brunette was already grinning and nodding along with that same spark in his eye. “Oh, thank fuck! You see it too then! I thought maybe I was just imagining it.”

For the first time in days, Tommy looked excited. “Holy shit, Wilbur, we might be saved!”

He tried to stagger to his feet. Wilbur had to rush to catch him before he stumbled to the ground, “Tommy, careful!”

He caught the boy before he could fall. Tommy winced, teeth gritting to bite back a cry. Wilbur noticed it instantly. He dropped Tommy’s arms at once, moving to take the other’s wrists where the burns were less present. The younger steadied himself on his feet with Wilbur’s cautious guidance. Once he was stable, he passed Wilbur a sheepish grin, “Heh, oops?”

Wilbur heaved out a sigh. There was no way he could be mad at that, not that he ever planned to. He shook his head, letting go of Tommy completely now that it seemed his brother could stand on his own. He straightened up, looking out towards where the head of the ship was disappearing behind the treeline. Taking a deep breath, Wilbur ruffled a hand through his hair before looking back to Tommy, “I think they’re planning to dock on that side. If we go now, we might be able to get on.”

“Then what are we waiting for?! Let’s go!” Tommy shouted excitedly. With that, he turned to march ahead.

He barely got a step before Wilbur was catching him by the wrist to stop him, “Wait a second! I wasn’t done yet!”

Tommy practically whined as he was stopped for the second time. He turned back on his heel with a loud groan, “What? The ship’s right there, Wilbur! We need to go!”

Wilbur could understand his enthusiasm. He wanted off this island as much as Tommy did, but if they were going to get onto that ship, they needed a plan.

“Listen to me. I’m not sure we’ll be able to sneak on without getting found out and I don’t know about you, but I really don’t feel like getting tossed off another ship,” Wilbur told him honestly.

Tommy’s nose wrinkled at the reminder. Sniffing, the boy turned to face him better, “Then what? You want us to go and just ask them? Like ‘hi, Mister Captain, sir! Could we please jump on this here ship you got? I know you don’t know us and it’d be really to leave us for dead, but I think if you’d really just considered it for a second deep in your heart’— honestly, that’s sounds really stupid, Wilbur. No one’s going to fall for that!”

Wilbur sputtered, trying not to choke on a laugh. “No, no! As if that’d ever work.” He cleared his throat, pulling himself back together quickly. “We don’t know what kind of ship we’re dealing with yet. I say we go stake out the ship first and plan from there. But if we get caught, I think I already have a few ideas in mind. But whatever we do, we just have to stick to it well enough to get to their next stop.”

Tommy rolled his eyes, “Sounds easy enough. Now can we just go already? I’m so tired of all this stupid sand.” ****** ****** ****** ****** ****** ****** ******

“So…” Phil dragged out the word. Techno remained tense behind him, leaning against the side of the ship. Phil didn’t need to look behind him to know the man was glaring at the pair of boys in front of them, searching for some sign to not trust the two. Phil held up a hand as if to silently gesture his first mate to settle down. He could handle this. “How about we start with your names, alright, boys?”

The two young men before him traded a look. Whatever mental conversation the two had ended in the span of seconds before the older of the pair was clearing his throat. The brunette was suddenly holding out a hand, “Captain Ishmael. Honor to meet another Captain”

“Ishmael?…” Phil slowly repeated, taking the man’s hand. He’d give it to the kid. For someone that was clearly on the verge of exhaustion, he had a good grip. “Really?”

“Uh huh!” Ishmael took his hand back with a rather proud grin, “It’s a family name. Passed down from generation to generation! I’m Ishmael the 3rd actually, in case you wanted to know.”

Phil did not. He couldn’t care less about this man’s history, but he did care about the fact that he could have sworn the man didn’t have as much of an accent before. And it seemed to be growing thicker with every word (as if “Ishmael” was getting his bearings on his new voice).

“As you can probably guess, we’re a very long way from home, you know?” Ishmael went on without missing a beat. “We had a ship of our own, but huge storm took it out with the rest of our crew and, well, you can see how things turned out.”

Phil only arched a brow further. He was sure the disbelief was heavy on his expression, “Right…” He turned his attention to the young boy beside the self-proclaimed captain. He’d been mostly quiet since boarding. “And what about you, mate?”

“Gunk,” the boy croaked up after a moment. His voice was incredibly hoarse. He had the same accent as Ishmael, lending slight credit to their tale, not that Phil believed either of them in the slightest.

“Gunk.”

The boy hummed, leaning heavily on the young Captain’s shoulder. “Yep. And that’s Gunk Gorbachev to you,” the kid added, weakly lifting his head enough to shoot Phil a glare, pointing a finger as well in a way the older blond assumed was meant to look threatening. “Heir to the Gorbachev throne, I’ll have you know.”

Phil only stared blankly at the kid. Blinking slowly, he settled on a simple, “Okay… So, we have Captain Ishmael and Gunk…”

“Gorbachev,” the kid corrected.

Phil nodded, “Gorbachev. So tell me why exactly should I let you on my ship?”

Ishmael cleared his throat first, “Well, as I mentioned before, our ship got destroyed in the storm. I know you’ve got no reason to believe us, but I assure you when we get back to the nearest mainland, I can find you all the proof I can to prove Gunk’s father is a highly influential man. He would waste no time to give you as much money as you wish for his son’s safe return.”

Before Phil could answer, Techno was doing so for him. “If he’d only send an amount for the kid, then why should we bother to keep you?”

To Ishmael's credit, he held his own well. Phil knew exactly how intimidating Techno could be, especially when he was trying. The man could make most men cower with a single look. Ishmael, however, held Techno’s look head-on, lips stretched into a firm line, “Well I’ll have you know, I’m one of King Gorbachev’s most trusted Captains. I’m now Gunk’s primary caretaker as well, seeing as the rest of our people were taken down in the waves. The bounty for my safe return will be high. Not as high as Gunk’s, but it’s still more bounty for you, isn’t it?”

“But you still crashed his ship,” Techno bluntly pointed out, much to Ishmael’s disliking. “Someone who can’t take care of their own ship and out of their crew, only manages to keep themselves and some kid alive doesn’t sound very worthy to me. At least, that’s not someone I’d wanna take back.”

Ishmael narrowed his eyes sharply, “I think as someone who lives their life on the water, you would know how unpredictable the sea can be, Sir…”

“Technoblade,” the said man gruffly answered.

“Technoblade,” the name almost sounded cruel on Ishmael’s tongue, “I’m sure you know exactly how unfair the tides are. You can’t always predict the storms when they come, neither can you always get away from them in time. I’ll have you know, Technoblade, I did my damned hardest to save my crew, but the waves separated us and took my ship down with it. You don’t think I haven’t spent days searching the shores for signs of my crew? Because I have.” Ishmael’s voice was getting louder and more emotional with every word. “The best I could do was to do my sworn task, which was keep Gunk here safe…”

Phil could see the sheen of tears behind the young captain's eyes as he choked on those last few words, and if he was lying, Phil had to admit the kid was a pretty damn good actor.

Ishmael’s arm was wrapped protectively around the Gunk’s shoulders, keeping the boy close to his chest as if it really were his sworn duty and he couldn’t handle the thought of failing another task, especially one so crucial.

Gunk was in on it as well. The boy played a pretty convincing part of the sad child that’s lost his people. Phil might feel bad if it turned out to be true because he did look awfully pitiful. He had his head tucked against Ishmael’s chest. His eyes weren’t closed, but they stared ahead, unblinking yet filled with sadness as if he were reliving the painful memories.

“Now I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t talk about my loss,” Ishmael finished, squaring his shoulders once more. The man’s dark eyes were hardened over in a way that almost made Phil believe his story. That was a soldier’s look if he knew one. “It isn’t as if I haven’t been thinking about them enough for the past few days… How would you like it if the seas turned on you and took your crew?”

Techno seemed to have nothing more to say to that. This talk seemed to have turned much more emotional than he planned. He crossed his arms with a grunt, breaking Ishmael's gaze to glower at the deck instead.

Ishmael broke the gaze as well, huffing loudly before turning his attention back on Philza. “Now as I was saying, you can offer me up as well. If the king offers you nothing, you can kill me, that’s fine. But I think you’d be wasting your effort if you did so now and lost even more bounty. You seem like two very smart men, so I don’t think you’d want to pass up on a good deal for nothing, would you?”

“I suppose not…” Phil hummed, leaning back in his seat. “But how do you know we won’t kill you after the payment?”

Ishmael shrugged, “Then that’s the risk we’ll have to take, isn’t it? It’s sure better than dying alone on an island, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Fair enough,” Phil decided. He pushed himself to stand and motioned to a nearby crew member towards the boys, “They can stay. We’re keeping the same route as we were without them.”

“You can’t be serious,” Techno spoke up, standing up to follow after him. A few crewmen were already passing them by to start prepping the ship for departure once more. Techno dodged between them, growling as he hurried to catch up to Phil’s side, “Please, Phil, you can’t really believe any of that, can you? That was the fakest story I’ve ever heard! C’mon! I mean, did you even hear that sob story?! The kid’s claiming to be a prince?!”

Phil only hummed noncommittally, “Now, Techno, I don’t think I ever said I believed them. I said I’d let them stay.”

“Phil, that’s two extra mouths to feed,” Techno sneered back. Phil didn’t need to spare him a glance to know how disgruntled his companion looked. “That’s two extra people wasting space that we don’t need! We could have just left them there! No one would notice! We probably won’t even get any bounty from this! It’ll just be a waste of time!”

“Then I guess we’ll have to wait and see,” Phil answered, patience holding strong as ever. He’d already prepared himself for Techno’s barrage of questions. He had a feeling his first mate wouldn’t be thrilled about keeping a new pair of strays, especially ones that tried to lie their way into staying. “They’re only a couple of kids, mate. They’ll only be here a few weeks at most, then we’ll be rid of them for good. It won’t hurt us to babysit for a while.”

“I didn’t sign up to be a babysitter, Phil! I don’t even like kids!” Technoblade was starting to sound more exasperated by the second. It took everything for Phil not to smile. His normally composed partner was throwing a fit over a couple of stowaways, as if their crew wasn’t built off similar strays. Though Phil supposed the difference was those strays were a little more honest. Phil couldn’t tell if that was the problem, or if Techno was taking difficulty sharing space with more newcomers. Apparently he wasn’t done, so Phil would soon find out.

“I mean, really, Phil. We could take in so many other things. But you choose a couple kids lying that one of them’s some fake king’s heir and the other’s a— a fake captain? Who fakes being a captain! You’ve gotta agree with me here, Phil. ‘Cause I’m sure lying about being a captain is normal,” Techno snarked, “totally normal kid things.”

Phil sighed, and paused in his step. Techno paused with him, just a step behind. Phil turned to face his partner. Techno only stares back at him, expression stoic as ever, but Phil could see the heavy annoyance in his eyes. If Phil hadn’t known him for all the years he had, he would never guess the man was only about as old as the self-proclaimed captain. He’d be a liar if he said it wasn’t starting to show currently, which Phil deemed for better or worse. For as old as he tried to seem, Techno was still quite young.

Phil placed a hand on the younger man’s shoulder, “You worry too much, mate. Yes, it is probably a lie. Honestly, I can’t say I ever believed even a second of any of it, but you saw how they looked. They were sunburnt and thirsty, and likely going to be stranded for the gods only know how long. Do you really think if you were stuck in their situation, you wouldn’t try to say anything you could to make sure you stay alive? Even if it sounded absolutely ridiculous?”

Techno went silent for a moment. Phil watched him mull over his answer. Finally, his partner averted his gaze towards the horizon. “Well I wouldn’t be as obvious about it…”

Phil cracked a laugh, “Oh, I wouldn’t either. It was really obvious, wasn’t it?” He chuckled, and gave Techno’s shoulder a soft squeeze before pulling away to continue walking, “We’ll keep a close eye on them. You can watch them as closely as you want, if that makes you feel any better. If anything seems too suspicious, then we’ll handle it. For now, let them recover. Let them rehydrate and eat, and we’ll just listen to see how their story changes. Maybe if we’re lucky, they’ll be worth their weight after all. It’s just a few weeks.” (Spoiler: it was more than a few weeks and Dadza Phil did the Dadza attachment thing as always.)

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nomattertheoceans · 3 years

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GIF REQUEST MEME: Favorite season from The 100 - Season four

I love season four for a lot of reasons!! I think it’s the best season of the show and it should have been their last (despite my love for most of s5 ^^) I’m gonna ramble a lot but I don’t want it to take over the gifset so I’ll put it under a cut

Season four is the time of hard, impossible choices for everybody. The bomb at Farm Station, the List, the Nightblood tests, opening the bunker, the anti-radiation medicine…. Everybody is put through the ringer during this season and honestly, this is what I’m here for.

First great point for me personally: They can’t stop the radiations. When season 3 ended with the reveal of the radiations coming, I was legit disappointed with the show, I didn’t want them to spend the season “turning off” radiations miraculously, you know. So when ep 2 of the season aired and the first thing Raven said was “there’s no magic button to stop this” I WAS SO HAPPY!! It immediately got me much more hyped for the rest of the season because I was invested in “riding out 5 years of hell” much more than “let’s find a magic button”. So the season hooked me then ^^

The season is really good at re-using previous themes and twist them in just the right way

Clarke, who was so angry at the council for killing her dad, finds herself in the council’s position, and starts to understand that making such hard decisions is never easy. Making the list for instance, is so different from what she had to do before. The genocide of Mt Weather was an act of despair in the middle of a war, but making the list is a process, she has to truly chose who is “worth” more, which is what the council did when they sent the 100 to the Ground. She choses to hide the truth from everybody despite it going against what she wanted at the start of the show. It’s a really cool change for her character.

The Arkers and Grounders take the decision to test the Nightblood against Luna, the Rock Line thief, and Emori’s will. An obvious reminder of s2 but that I appreciate. I liked the Mt Weather story because of this: the mountain men were the antagonists but they also were the same as the rest of the show, they were doing whatever they had to do to survive, whatever it took, no matter how cruel it could be. We see in this season that when faced with the same decision, our protagonists reach the same result: sacrificing other people’s bodily autonomy to survive is worth it to them. It’s a really interesting theme to bring back because it muddies the waters of who’s right and wrong, and it highlights that in the end, there is no black and white answer.

This season gives us my personal favorite version of Clarke: she’s the closest she’ll get to a true antagonist (only comparable to s5 but s5 is a little bit of a mess so I still prefer her in s4). She has one conviction: saving her people. And to get it, she is ready to lie, to cheat, to kill, whatever it takes. It is interesting because I always saw Clarke in that light. She always believes that she has the right idea and she will do what it takes to get what she thinks is best. That’s where she is interesting to me (I’m not interested in her being an innocent victim forced to take decisions, that’s not how I see her at all and I find her a little dull in that interpretation haha but that’s for another post). Clarke stealing the bunker is a cruel act, but man, it’s incredibly smart. At that moment she knows she’s condeming many people (some of whom very close to her) to death, but she believes deep inside her that it’s the right thing to do so she’s willing to do it. And i really prefer her in those ruthless moments.

Octavia’s arc this season isn’t my favorite, but she is at her best during the last few episodes for me. The creation of Wonkru is one of my favorite scenes of the entire show, even though I saw it coming a mile away lmao (1200 spaces, 12 clans, it was easy to see where they were going!). I love the scene, I love the place it comes from (Octavia channeling Lincoln’s convictions was brilliant). I might not agree with her decisions (skaikru definitely deserved more spots than the other clans), but it makes perfect sense for her character to make this decision. The scene of her talking to Skaikru and telling them they’re no different from the others, and they have to choose or they all die, is also one of my favorites. Octavia received no mercy on the Ark, she had a terribly tragic childhood because of those people who are now begging her for their lives, and she doesn’t budge. The Ark, and the Ground, forced her to be that way, and she doesn’t back away. It’s also all a brilliant introduction to what Wonkru and Octavia will become in s5 (but again, that’s for another post lmao)

I love that we get the introduction of Spacekru because I love their little found family and the scene where they reach the Ring is so good!

Murphy’s speech to Clarke makes me tear up everytime I see it (it really was one of the strongest moments of acting of the entire show, Richard Harmon is amazing in it). Emori also blows me away in the previous episode, the way she’s shown to be ruthless, and cunning, and also how well she reads people. She knew they would come to test someone, and she did everything she had to for that someone to not be her. I love her ^^

I like the plot of the second dawn bunker well enough! (although I will never change my mind that Cadogan was a dumbass for putting it where it is instead of IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FOREST WHERE THERE’S NO RISK OF BUILDINGS FALLING ON IT LIKE WHAT LITERALLY HAPPENED IN S5 OKAY anyway…..), it’s far from perfect but I like that it explains the people coming to greet Becca in s3, and I like that we expand a little on the origins of the Grounders culture (even though I wanted more about this). It’s kind of an “easy” solution, but at the same time it’s not. It was established early in the season before being abandoned, and even once it’s found, it’s not at all a perfect and easy solution. They have to fight for it, decide who lives there, it’s a pretty interesting development. What I mean is that it’s not discovered one episode before the end and it doesn’t solve everything. If anything, it creates more conflict. Which I appreciate alot.

ALSO ALSO Echo is a badass general in this season and I love it. She goes from being a spy in earlier seasons, to full-on commanding armies and being a strategic mastermind and I love it! She’s also ruthless and cunning and I lvoe that for her. It’s also such a good season for her and Bellamy!!! I lvoe all of it ^^

This season also has one of my favorite underrated quotes!!!! I’m gonna use a gif here cause I’m not at the limit yet lmao

“It’s unity day.” GODDDD it’s so good. It’s simple, but it conveys so much information and I love it:

Unity Day: the stations coming together to survive -> we’re virtually in the same situation here.

It’s a happy occasion, a day of survival and hope, just like the hope Octavia gave all the clans with her decisions

But it’s also a day of death and loss. She’s giving Kane a choice: join Wonkru with 100 members, or die in the flames.

It reminds us of the history of the Arkers, and I love when world-building does this thing where both characters are shown to have such a close cultural background that three little words are enough to convey such a strong message. It’s a detail but I love it and I wanted to ramble for a little bit ^^

Clarke’s sacrifice: This is when it gets to “meh” points for the seasons for me. Clarke deciding to stay behind to save Spacekru was a good moment. Yes, I know that if she hadn’t climbed the tower they all would have died anyway, but still. It’s a great moment for her character. She has hurt those people time and time again during this season, she was ready to let them die more than once, and I think she regrets it (although again, I like to see the extremes she’s willing to reach in this season). In that moment, she doesn’t decide that it’s too late to survive so she might as well give up. She knows she’s going to die, and she gives her last moments to save the lives of the people she hurt in the past. And I really love this. That is….. Until Clarke is revealed to not have died. I truly believe that she had reached the ending of her arc in the show, and it would have been a great ending to her character. But that’s also because I believe the show should have ended in s4 lmao. If it had ended, then maybe they could have left her death ambiguois, by showing her reaching the safety of the lab, but not showing her again afterwards. That way, we had no way of being sure she survived, but it was left ambiguous enough to make us decide her fate outselves.

The perfect ending: I didn’t choose the last gif randomly. That scene of Raven and Bellamy looking down on the Earth was in my opinion the perfect shot to end the show. At that point in time, we are left in a place that is very similar to where the show started: the Earth is destroyed by radiations, some people are waiting it out in space, some people are waiting it out on the ground. it mirrors the premise of the show (although in a much smaller scale), but this time, we’re left with hope of what might come in the future. Those two groups know (or hope) that they will reunite, especially with Octavia and Bellamy, the relationship at the core of the show, being separated. If the show ends here, we have come full circle from the pilot episode, and we can imagine how those two groups will reunite in the future. I find that ending the best possible for the show, so even though there’s so much I like about season 5, I wish the show had stopped at that moment, at that shot of Raven and Bellamy looking down on the Earth.

That got reaaaaally long, so…. sorry about that xD If you’ve reached this far, feel free to tell me what you think of this season (or the others haha) or send me asks, or request for other gifsets!!!

#the 100 #the100edit #my gifs #I will have you know that I did NOT edit this text lmao

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adrenaline-roulette · 3 years

Text

Four Eighths

Pairing: Four x Eight (Reader) Word Count: 8K+ (She’s a doozy!) Warnings: Language, angst, very basic medical procedures *Disclaimer: Hey again guys, so sorry about the delay with this chapter. But I’ll admit, I actually got this posted a lot sooner than I thought I would! So kudos to me I guess? I just want to say a huge thank you to all of those who have been with this story since the beginning, and those who have joined us along the way. This isn’t the end of this story, but I just want to let you all know how much you all mean to me. And please remember, if you read this story and you like it, give it a like, a comment and maybe even a reblog if you think your followers may like it? I know there isn’t much happening in the 6 Underground fandom these days, but the only way to keep it alive, is if people keep reading and writing for the characters!

All my love my dudes ❤❤❤

Probably best if you check out the other chapters first..... One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten

Chapter Eleven: Don’t let me fall, at least not alone

“Four? Can you hear me?” Billy felt weak, and highly disoriented. His head was spinning, as if he actually was fighting a migraine, unlike the one he was supposed to be faking…. Faking, why was he faking a migraine again? “Four, stay with us!” The voice continued calling out, though why was this person yelling out a number? A name sure, he could understand that. But calling out random numbers? That just served to confuse him more.

“Four, god dammit! Keep your fucking eyes open!” This was a new voice now, one which sounded just as Billy’s eyes had slowly drifted closed against the harsh fluorescent lights above him. How strange, surely these people weren’t addressing him were they?

“Four, please just stay with us a little longer! Five, how are you going with those injections?” The same voice from before was firing orders, her voice holding an edge of fear and concern. Suddenly a shadow appeared above his closed eyes, and carefully he peeled them open, relieved to not be greeted with bright lights, and instead by a shadowed figure. “Billy, please just keep your eyes open for me. You’re going to be fine, I swear.” She was whispering to him, or at least that’s what it sounded like. Though it was hard to be sure, especially as he struggled to keep his eyes from falling shut once more.

How had things turned out like this? The last thing he could recall, was speaking with a woman dressed in white at a reception desk. Then it had all gone blank for him.

*****

You paced around the small living room of the house you had all been calling base for the past few weeks, sucking in deep breath after deep breath, all the while clutching your arms around yourself in a tight embrace. “Nope, I can’t do it. I cannot do this guys!”

Two looked up at you from her gossip magazine, having taken great pleasure in the abundance of French reading material. She was the only one of you in the group to have settled into your temporary accommodation, and was fitting in with the locals perfectly. Rolling her eyes at your outburst, she returned to her reading. It wasn’t that she was being unsupportive, far from it actually. It was just that she had reached her limit of words of support, forty odd minutes ago, at the beginning of your breakdown.

“Yes, you can. You know you can! We’ve been over the plan hundreds of times now, everything is in place. Weapons are stored in the hospital, the Lushnick’s are there, we’ve seen them! Everything is working out according to plan. Four will be on his way to Emergency within a few hours, then it’s all up to us. We can’t leave him.” It was One’s turn to play reassurer this time around, and he was the first to raise Four as if knowing it would get a rise out of you.

You whirl on the spot, eyes growing wide and pupils blown. “I never suggested we leave Four! I ju– I just don’t know if this mission is a good idea is all?”

One sighed, squaring his shoulders before smoothing his hands down his turquoise scrubs. “Eight, if you had one shot, or one opportunity. To seize everything you ever wanted in one moment, would capture it? Or just let it slip?”

You stare at One, blinking slowly as silence fills the room. “Is – Was that Eminem?” You stammer, shaking your head gently, as if to clear the fog which had settled there. Surely you were mistaken, One couldn’t be quoting Lose yourself, right?....

“Does it make it any better or worse knowing this isn’t the first time he’s used that as a motivational speech?” Seven grins, winking at you impishly.

“I think what makes it worse is knowing that no matter what reaction he got last time, he still decided to try it again!”

“Touché, and dude, get yourself a better speech already!” Seven smirks, patting One on the shoulder as he walks by and towards the kitchen. His uniform shirt half buttoned as he goes.

“Why does everyone know that song straight away?” One groans, looking genuinely confused.

“Because it’s the bloody 2020’s! And not to hate on Slim or anything, but for the love of god, replace your ipod shuffle, and listen to some new music. Please!” You plead, as the startling thought of One thinking lose yourself was a new song creeped its way into your mind, causing you to shudder.

Five steps out of the bathroom, a cloud of steam billowing out behind her. Looking like the absolute goddess she is, with her hair wrapped in a fluffy towel, and a robe concealing her, she fixes you with a strong look. “Eight. You are ready for this. Upon our first mission, we were all terrified. But we pulled through, one way or another we did what needed to be done, and look where we are now. I know what you’re feeling, we all do. We’ve all been there, trust me. But the only way this will work, the only way we will be able to get to the Lushnick’s, is if we stick together and work this mission just as we’ve planned. That means all of us. We can’t be a member short, not this time.” Without waiting for your response, Five walks away, closing a bedroom door behind her.

You have no response, no witty retort. Nothing. Not that it would matter, Five wasn’t there to hear it anyway. Chewing on your bottom lip, you turn back to One, who still looked somewhat put out by your ipod comment. “Has anyone seen my uniform?”

*****

Just after 11am, Billy made his way to the hospital and into the Emergency department, cradling his head between his palms, and groaning in mock agony. His earpiece was safely tucked in his ear, providing him contact with his team. Contact which he had been severely missing these past few weeks. At first it had been bearable, what with your secret texts on your burner phone. But when One had arrived at the safe house, it had been harder to sneak messages, until finally they had ceased all together. But hearing your voice now, ringing through his ears, he felt like he was home. Despite walking into a hospital.

“Genevieve Lushnick is on the move. Last seen leaving Ward 11A.” You advise everyone.

“She finished her rounds in Paediatrics much earlier, not sure where she’s headed now.” Five recalls, the sounds of crying infants in the background of her voice.

“Usually her roster would have her checking on Geriatrics in Ward 7B next. But She’s already been there. That was her second visit of the day.” Seven advises, though he sounds confused. To be fair, so does everyone else. Genevieve was changing up her routine, something she hadn’t done at all during their surveillance of her. So why now?

“Hold on, let me see if I can track her down through the live camera feeds.” You suggest, the sounds of your fingers flying across a keyboard breaking the silence which followed.

Billy’s concentration on the conversation happening in his ear is cut off by a woman dressed in white sat at the Emergency reception desk. A nurse from the looks of her. “Bonjour, comment puis-je vous aider?” She blinks wide amber eyes up at Billy, who stares back confusedly.

“Uh, En-English?” A part of him wants to chastise himself for not learning French for this mission. But knowing he was playing the part of a tourist he allowed himself some leeway in the preparation department.

The nurse smiles further, though the more teeth she shows the more forced it looks. “Of course. How may I help you today sir?”

“I just flew in a few days ago, and I have an awful headache. I’ve never experienced anything like it before. All lights are too bright, I feel weak, my head is pounding, and I feel nauseas.”

“Has this just begun, or is this an ongoing issue?”

“No, it just started this morning. I took a couple of paracetamol to help when I woke up, but they’ve done nothing.”

The nurse nods her head, looking down at her computer, as Billy adds in a groan for effect. Just as the nurse asks for personal details, One appears from the behind the desk. “Goodness, what’s wrong with this man? He looks like death on two legs!”

Billy repeats what he had just told the nurse, with One nodding along, and playing every part the good doctor. “You need to be seated immediately. Someone, bring me a wheelchair!” One calls in the direction of the wardsmen who are stood around the waiting room. “Jennifer, you need to be more familiar with signs of a migraine. This young man, what was your name sir?”

“James.” Billy moans, falling back into the wheelchair once it appears behind him, laying his head back for added effect.

“Yes, James could have collapsed at any moment. Please be more mindful next time.” One warns, a harsh glare in his eyes directed at the young nurse.

“O-of course Doctor Cleavers. It won’t happen again.”

Billy can barley contain his smirk at the sound of One’s alias, covering his attempted chuckle with a well-timed groan.

“Does anyone have eyes on Gregory?” Two whispers harshly into her earpiece, causing Billy to flinch slightly, just as one does the same. Christ, Two needs to keep her tone down!

It’s Three’s turn to respond first now, who sounds quite proud of himself as he speaks. “He’s up in theatres, doing God knows what to God knows who.” The sound of a trolley filled with rattling dishes being pushed, barely making his mumbled voice audible.

One moves around behind Billy, kicking up the brake on the wheelchair, and pushing him towards the swipe pass activated doors, leading to the Emergency treatment area. The deafening silence flowing through both his and Billy’s earpieces cause the two men to glance at each other nervously.

“How long ago did you see Gregory heading to theatres?” You ask, an edge of worry hinting at your tone.

Yet another long pause, until. “During breakfast rounds… I suppose two hours ago, maybe?” Three no longer sounds sure of himself, which sets in a sinking feeling in all those on the team.

“He was scheduled to finish surgery one hour ago. Has anyone seen him this past hour?” You snap back, perhaps more of a bite in your words than you had intended.

“Negative.” Replies One in a quiet voice, while smiling at fellow doctors as he pushed Billy.

“No.” That was Two.

“Nope.” Five now, who had been awfully quiet so far.

“Neither.” Three mumbles, likely feeling as dejected as he sounded.

“Well you know I haven’t.” Billy smirks. It was a risk him speaking to the group like this, but currently with his head tilted back, and staring up at the ceiling as he was being wheeled down a corridor, no one really paid any attention to him.

“I’ve only seen Genevieve. The two haven’t been together all morning sorry.” Seven whispers.

“Fuck me…” You breathe out, slamming your fists down on the desk. “I can’t see either of them on the live feeds!”

Carefully, Billy lifts his head once again, turning over his shoulder to peer up at One, who was frowning and staring dead ahead. “Is there a problem Doctor Cleavers?” He mumbles, keeping the act up for anyone who may pass.

“There very well may be.” One mutters, only glancing down at Billy for a brief moment.

The two continue down the corridor for another few minutes, the bright clinical lights beginning to bring on a genuine headache for Billy now. Finally, they come to a stop in a large treatment room, multiple beds lining the walls, all encircled by blue curtains. Some had been drawn for patient’s privacy, while others remained opened. In the centre of the room was a large desk where Nurses and Doctors hurried to and from, collecting and depositing various prescriptions and clinical orders. “James, are you able to stand to bring yourself over to the bed?” One asks, raising his voice enough to somewhat put on a show for those nearby.

The temptation to ask One to pick him up is almost too great to pass up, but knowing that somehow it would come back to haunt him, Billy opts for standing himself. “I think I can manage, thank you Doc.” Standing slowly, Billy pivots on the spot, and shuffles over to the bed, hoisting himself up and laying back.

“We’ll need to bring your fluids up, I’m worried about you becoming dehydrated. We’ll need to cannulate you. Have you ever had a cannula before?” One asks, waving for a nurse to come and assist him.

“No, I don’t think I have.”

“Not to worry, it’s relatively quick and painless.”

The nurse hurries over, and listens as One fires orders at him, orders which he had picked up from watching medical shows, mostly scrubs…. “We need James on a drip ASAP, get that started now!”

“Right away Doctor Cleavers.” The nurse agrees, before moving off to grab the necessary equipment.

Billy turns his attention to One, raising his eyebrows in concern. “Are you seriously going to stick a needle in me?” He hisses, emerald eyes flashing in fear.

One shrugs lightly, turning away from Billy to keep an eye out for the nurse. “Well, I’m not going to be injecting you. Can’t say the same for the nurse though.”

Billy wants to scream, at no stage during the briefings had there been any mention of him having a needle jabbed into him! Hell, if there had been any discussions of such a thing, he likely would’ve backed out! Perhaps that was why there was no mention? The nurse reappears, and preps his work station, all the while One, or Doctor Cleavers stays around to supervise the proceedings, occasionally chiming in with his theories as to what the cause for his sudden pain could be.

“Four! One! They’re coming!” Your voice breaks through the stinging sensation of the needle, panic flying through Billy’s veins. “The Lushnick’s! I finally found them on the cameras, they’re headed straight for-” Your voice is broken by puffing breaths, and the sound of your feet pounding on the tiles as you sprint from somewhere else in the hospital.

“Emergency.” Billy finishes, as the two people who he had been staring at photographs of for months now, strut into the treatment room, patients and doctors alike parting like the red sea as the couple head towards Billy and One. Four sets of eyes meet, and no member of either team is willing to break concentration.

“We’ve been expecting you.” Genevieve grins, her canine teeth almost too pointed, like fangs brushing against her ruby painted lips.

“Thank you, Eric, you’ve done a wonderful job here.” Gregory turns to the nurse and nods his head, the nurse returning the gesture and leaving the group.

“Eight for Four, come in Four!” Your voice shouts in his ear, causing Billy to flinch away.

“Ah, that must be the rest of your team I take it? Not to worry, we have our people taking care of them as we speak.” Genevieve shrugs, before turning to One. “Seeing as you’re so good at playing Doctor, you’ll be pushing your friend. He won’t be awake much longer. I would hate for him to collapse.”

At these words, Billy shoots up on the bed, his head spinning as he does so. “What the fuck does that mean?”

Genevieve waves him off, her nails painted the same shimmering ruby as her lips. “Surely you don’t expect me to give away our secrets? That’s not how people like us work.”

One steps behind Billy’s bed, and begins driving it forwards, following behind the Lushnick’s with a scowl. Billy could see the wheels in his mind turning, as he tried to formulate a plan of escape, though from every way he looked at it, they were pretty well fucked. He could feel his body growing tired, and his mind becoming clouded and dazed, whatever they had given him, it was taking over his body quickly, and any minute now he would be useless to the team.

*****

Fuck! The entire team had lost the Lushnick’s! How did that even happen? Seven was supposed to be trailing them, he had been doing so every other day perfectly, but what the fuck had gone wrong today? Your fingers fly across the keyboard, frantically switching between all the cameras in the hospital. Some provided a live feed, while others only offered playback, but at this point in time you would take what you could get. Window after window pops open on your monitor, squinting at the slightly pixelated images to try and identify who was being filmed.

“There!” You practically scream, causing one of the guards walking past your office to jump, turning a concerned look your way. “Sorry, just uh – finally got a fly that’s been harassing me all morning.” You blurt out, though with a shrug, the guard walks on, either having bought the lie or not caring enough to question it further. You gaze back at the image on your screen, it was from one of the playback cameras. Both Gregory and Genevieve were spotted seven minutes ago in one of the staff only corridors, leading between the imaging department and emergency. “Seven minutes…. How long does it take to get there?”

“Three! Come in Three!”

“Bloody hell, no need to yell Eight. What is it?”

“On your delivery route, how long does it usually take to get between X-ray and Emergency?”

Three pauses to think, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he does so. “Roughly twenty minutes.”

“We’re fucked.”

“What? What does that mean?!”

You ignore the frantic questions streaming from Three, the others shortly joining in with their own confusion. But you didn’t have time to address their concerns, right now there was only one thing on your mind. Beating the Lushnick’s to the Emergency room. With your heart hammering in your chest, and breathing coming out in desperate gasps you turn back to your computer, snaking your way into the hospital power grid.

You know how to do this, it’s just like what you did for your museum heist way back when you had met One. But for some reason, your brain can’t seem to summon the image of what you need to do. You could try a keyboard smash now that you’re in the controls, but that could seriously damage literally everything… “Come on, just think dammit.” You snarl at yourself, clasping your hands into fists, and pressing them against your temples.

Eyes springing open, you fix a harsh glare at the blinking screen before you, asking for a password. “Y’all Lushnick’s are fucked.” The password it simple to guess, trust the Lushnick’s to use their fucking last name as a password. They may be smart in what they do, but they sure as hell know nothing about internet security. The screen turns black, with a 3D model of the hospital slowly building itself on your screen. With each scroll of your mouse, the model shifts, and enlarges to a new section of the hospital. A blinking blue bar in the top left of the screen offers a text space, and going on a hunch, you type in ‘Geriatrics’ and press enter. The model disintegrates into tiny pixels, before rebuilding just the section you had searched. “Brilliant…” You whisper to yourself.

The geriatrics ward of the hospital consisted of one main power source, with a backup which would boot up and provide energy to the most necessary equipment and lights in the event of the main grid failing. “Five for Eight, come in?”

“Eight here, what’s going on?”

“I’m being followed. There’s security blocking off just about every exit on this floor, and no matter where I go, there’s someone behind me, or waiting for me.”

“Has anyone else got this issue?” You call out, eagerly awaiting replies. There’s a resounding yes in response, with the only discrepancy coming from Seven.

“A couple of guards caught up to me in 11B, they’ve brought me along to help catch the infiltrators.”

“So they don’t know you’re a part of this?”

“Seems like it. And from what I gather, they aren’t onto you either…”

“Perfect, Seven stay with your team. There’s about to be a Code Blue in geriatrics. I’ll put the call through to all security to get to the ward, that should give the rest of you time to escape. Rendezvous in Staff corridor D.”

You don’t wait to hear the replies from your team, once again your body working quicker than your mind. Your hands already working on shutting down the power to the Geriatrics ward. You should feel worse than you do, you were putting innocent people’s lives at risk. But the one thing which had been drilled into you from the begging was, the team comes first wherever possible. It was Seven who insisted on this. But who were you to argue with him?

Your eyes are glued to your screen as you watch a warning light appear over the 3D model you had been working with. ‘WARNING! Main power grid will be turned off. WARNING!’ It was rather polite of the system to warn you of the damage you were about to inflict, however the flashing red image did little to stop you. With one final mouse click, a new pop up appeared on your screen. This one somehow even more urgent, despite no red flashing lights. ‘WARNING! Main power grid for geriatrics has now been turned off. Back up system now operating.’ An alarm was blaring throughout your office, warning you and all security who remained nearby of a system failure. “All units. Repeat, all units to Geriatric ward immediately. Power failure. All units report.” You instruct through the P/A system.” Instantly, you watch as two security guards’ race past your office, down the hall and towards the stairwell.

“Five, have they gone? Can you get out?” You ask carefully, keeping your voice low in case of any security stragglers.

“Yeah, they’ve all gone now. Jesus Eight, what kind of a system failure did you make?” You can hear her laughing now, though you know the doctor side of her is genuinely concerned as to what chaos you had caused.

“Nothing that should cause any real harm, but it’s done the trick.” You smirk, locking your computer and stepping out of the office.

You knew the security alert wouldn’t deter the Lushnick’s, hell even if the building was on fire, you doubt they would stray from their current target. But if your calculations were correct, you still had at least five minutes to warn One and Four of their impending arrival. Your heavy combat boots pound against the tiles, sprinting your way towards corridor D, praying the others would already be there, or at least arriving soon. Pressing your index finger against your earpiece, your voice sounding frantic even to you. “Four! One! They’re coming!”. They had time, they had to have time….. But with no response from either, you try again. “The Lushnick’s! I finally found them on the cameras, they’re headed straight for Emergency!”

Nothing, not a single word from Four or One. This wasn’t right, they were supposed to have time still, plenty of time to get out of Emergency and meet you and the team. But as you round the corner to Staff corridor D, there’s no One, and sure as hell no Billy. “Thank God you got here alright!” Five gasps, running over to you and wrapping her arms around you. You had never known her to be much of a hugger, but you suppose high stakes situations like this could change a person. Checking over her shoulder you spot Three, Seven, and Two all talking amongst themselves. “Where’re Four and One?” You ask timidly, stepping away from Five’s embrace slowly, and looking between her and the rest of the team.

No one seems inclined to answer you, which only serves to send a deep chill down your spine, and for a solid mass to feel as if it had been lodged in your throat. Pressing on your earpiece again, you try calling for the two again. “Eight for Four and One, come in both of you.”

There’s again no reply, and your heart feels like it’s being strangled. “I heard some of the guards talking. There was talk of a couple of intruders being found…” Seven begins, his dark eyes meeting yours, with a look which could only be described as true sympathy.

Sharp, electric static echoes through your teams ears, all earpieces but yours going haywire for five seconds, before silence once more. “What the fuck was that?” Three snarls, ripping the piece out and glaring at it between his large fingers.

An all too familiar voice speaks slowly now in your ear, but as you look around you realise this voice was only speaking to you. No one else could hear her. “Well, who do we have here. You’re not the Doctor, I would recognise her voice anywhere. And you’re obviously not the French one, unless you’ve managed to disguise your accent, which I truly doubt. So who are you…”

“I’m not playing any of your sick little games Genevieve. Where is the rest of my team?” You hiss, causing the others to look up and over to you.

“Eight? What’s going on?” Two asks carefully, stepping towards you slowly.

“Who are you talking to? Three asks, lifting his brows up.

“Ah, see. There’s the French one! I knew you had to be someone else! Eight was it? Oh how interesting. So what, did another one of your team die? Is that why you’re here?”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about! I’m not someone’s replacement.”

“Oh aren’t you? Well that just makes this even more special then doesn’t it? Tell me, which one of these charming young men is Four who you seem so concerned about? Is it this ruggishly handsome tall fellow who keeps glaring at me? Or is it the pretty blonde, with the gorgeous green eyes, who’s having a hard time staying awake right now?” It’s an involuntary reaction, but at the mention of Four, your breath catches in your throat, causing a small gasp to escape your lips. “Ah, the blonde it is..”

“What have you done to him? What can’t he stay awake?”

“My my, so many questions! If you didn’t want anything to happen to him, then maybe you shouldn’t have used him a bait silly little girl!”

“Where the fuck is he?”

“I suppose I could tell you, it would be rather enjoyable to see the look on your face as we operate on him, while there’s nothing you can do about it…”

You don’t wait to hear anymore, ripping the earpiece out and throwing it as far down the corridor as possible. “Theatres. The Lushnick’s have Four and One. They’re about to do something to Four.” You gasp out, barely able to catch your breath, as tears prick the backs of your eyes.

“Shhh, Eight it’s going to be fine, I promise.” Five offers, soothing her palm down your back gently.

“Don’t you dare make empty promises.” You growl, shaking her off and racing down the hall, towards the stairwell.

*****

“What have you given him?” One growls, glaring between both the Lushnick’s and Four who lay on an operating table, barely moving and occasionally groaning. He rattled his arm against the handcuffs which kept him bound to a side railing. He was completely useless, both to himself and to his teammate.

Genevieve turned to him now, regarding him with a cold stare. “I hardly see why that matters now? You can’t do anything to help him, especially not in your current predicament.” She chuckles darkly, before turning her attention back to Gregory. The man barely spoke a word, but the sick sadistic smile which had been growing across his lips these past few minutes, was enough for One to get a better sense of his character.

“At least tell me what you’re going to do to him!” One tries again. He was running out of questions, and by the looks of things, time too. He had hoped he would be able to keep the Lushnick’s occupied long enough for you and the rest of the team to get here, but ever since Genevieve finished her conversation with you, she seemed all the more eager to get this started.

“Well that’s the fun part. Greg doesn’t know yet! Here’s how this works. Greg cuts the patient open, has a bit of a poke and prod around. Takes out what he wants, and then stitches ‘em back up! You never know what will be taken!” Genevieve grins, pressing a red kiss to Gregory’s cheek, who only grins broader.

One has to fight back to urge to both vomit, and throw punches, instead opting to glare at the duo. “You’re both sick, and you’re going to rot in hell once we’re through with you!”

Genevieve waves him off, turning her attention to Four, who was more unconscious than conscious now. Though he occasionally made a slight jolt, or mumbled a quiet sentence. “Should we wait until he is a bit more under before beginning the procedure?”

Gregory turned to her, lifting a brow in curiosity. “And risk the others getting here, before it’s too late for them to rescue him?”

Just as his words die off, a loud crash against the operating theatre door causes both Doctor’s to glance towards the sound. The crash was quickly followed by another, before a gunshot can be heard echoing throughout the circular room, the sound of a heavy body hitting the ground following. “Greg…..” Genevieve whispers, turning to the Doctor, as the double doors slam open. The metallic hingers screeching under the sudden movement.

“Where the fuck is my boyfriend?” You scream, pistol raised, and aimed directly at Genevieve Lushnick. Seven and Three stand beside you, each holding a gun of their own, with Three aimed at the nurses in the theatre, and Seven poised to fire upon Gregory. Two and Five stand either side of them, aiming at the guards behind them who were writhing on the ground, though they both remained vigilant for any further arrivals.

Gregory lifts a scalpel and hovers it directly above Four’s abdomen, poised and ready to cut. “Ah, you must be Eight.” Genevieve grins, taking a careful step towards you, as Gregory lowers the scalpel closer to Four’s bare skin.

Seven aims at the wall just above where Gregory stands, the bullet ripping a hole in the sterile room, causing Gregory to jump back almost an entire foot. “Don’t even think about trying that again.” Seven hisses, fixing the Doctor with a glare.

“Now now, there will be no need for violence.” Genevieve begins, before taking a look at the guards who were slowly bleeding out in the entry way. “At least, no more violence that is.” She steps forwards again, fixing you with an interested eye. “My goodness you look familiar. Have we met before?”

“I’m positive I would recall meeting someone as wicked and vile as you.” You spit, keeping your pistol trained on your target, your eyes following her every step.

“Hm, yes I suppose so.” You were now engaged in an odd type of dance, Genevieve was slowly circling around you, and you followed her every move, moving in a circle on the spot. “This is where the negotiations begin, I imagine.”

“There will be no negotiations. You tell us what you gave Four, you let him go, and we take you to the authorities who will make sure you both rot in a prison cell for the rest of your sorry lives.”

Genevieve shakes her head no, still walking in her slow circle around you. From an outside perspective, it was that of a lion circling its prey, though to your perspective, you had the upper hand. Or at least, you had the weapon. “No, you see that doesn’t work for us.”

“Fine. You tell us what you gave Four, you let him go, and we kill you both right here, right now.”

Genevieve shakes her head again, looking over to Gregory who was clutching the scalpel for dear life. “Eight, something’s wrong…” One calls, looking over to Four. The young man was beginning to convulse on the operating table. His skin was flushed in tiny pinprick sized red dots, and his chest was rising and falling in rapid laboured breaths.

You chance a glance over to Four, and your heart stops. Something was horrendously wrong. “Five, go check on him!” You screech, turning your full attention back on Genevieve as Five races past you. In a split second, you pocket your gun in the back of your jeans, and lurch forwards, fists griping into the collar of Genevieve’s shirt. You hold the fabric with such ferocity the seams popping in her shirt is almost audible, but your blood is pumping too loudly in your ears for you to hear. “Tell me what you gave him!” You’re practically screaming now, directly in her face, yet Genevieve doesn’t seem phased at all. She was used to outbursts such as this, granted they were typically from a grieving mother or father, and not someone threatening her life, but none the less, it felt like just another day in the office.

“Not until we strike a deal!”

There’s only one thing running through your mind as your eyes lock onto Genevieve’s, the training fight you had had with Three all those months ago. Only this time, there was no one fighting back, you had the power. Your leg steps behind Genevieve’s left, and you sweep out with your entire weight, releasing her collar just as her knees gives way and buckle beneath her weight, and she crumbles to the ground bellow you, her back smacking the hard tiled floor with a crack. Instantly, you’re on top of her, kneeling down against her stomach and pinning her to the ground.

“You bitch!” She shrieks, coughing as she attempts to regain the breath you had knocked out of her, though with almost your entire weight leaning into her now, it was unlikely she would.

“I’m terribly sorry. I guess I lost my footing.” You smirk, pressing your knee harder against her. Causing Genevieve to cry out in pain.

Gregory races forwards, his scalpel dropping to the ground in his haste. “Get off of her!” He calls, wrapping her palms over your shoulders and attempting to tear you away.

Three steps in, shoulder barging him in the stomach and sending the Doctor crashing to the ground beside his wife.

“Guys! I think Four’s having a severe allergic reaction to whatever concoction he was pumped full of!” Five yells, a stethoscope looped around her neck, as her frantic eyes meet yours. “Is he allergic to anything you know of?”

You stare back at Five, your mind going completely blank, you feel like a deer caught in headlights. Surely Four would’ve told you if he had any allergies, right? And perhaps he had done just that, but standing here now, with all hope resting on your shoulders, you couldn’t think of a single thing which may be useful in this situation. Shaking your head, a growing sense of dread filling you, as the rest of the team remain silent. “I- I don’t know….”

“I can give him an Epipen, but I need to know what he’s either had, or what he’s allergic to so I can get him the proper antidote!”

Tearing your eyes away from Five, you look over to One, who not only felt but looked entirely useless, chained to a handrail on the opposite side of the room. Your eyes searching his for an answer. Your mission was to capture the Lushnick’s, and right now, that was exactly what you had done. But if you kept them as they were now, as prisoners, Four could die….. Was that a sacrifice you were willing to make?

All One could offer was a gentle half smile, shrugging his shoulders slightly in his compromising position. He couldn’t offer you an answer, hell you couldn’t even offer yourself an answer….

Carefully, you release some of the pressure from Genevieve’s stomach, just enough for her to look up at you in surprise, blinking wide eyes up at you. “Tell me what you gave him, and we’ll let you both go.” You mutter, fighting back the urge to swallow back your own words.

A wicked smirk unravels over Genevieve’s lips. The kind of smirk which one would associate with a wicked stepmother, or evil queen from a Disney film. “Deal.” You release more pressure from your hold on her, until she can breathe properly once more, and Three steps away from Gregory, giving the man a swift boot to the hip just to make his point. “We gave him a combination of penicillin, general anaesthetic, codeine…” Genevieve stands, as does Gregory, both stepping backwards towards the door. Your team moving out of their way upon looking at you for clarification. No one wanted to move, that much was obvious in the frantic looks the others were throwing your way. But at the same time, they all knew the price they would have to pay if they kept the Lushnick’s as they were now. A price no one was prepared for.

“There was some paracetamol mixed in too….” Genevieve continues. They were at the doorway now, hand in hand, gazing behind themselves to make sure the way was clear. “Hm, what else?”

“Gosh, I just can’t recall.” Gregory shrugs, an evil smirk crawling its way over his lips. His eyes glowing with malice. “I simply have no idea what ese they’re may have been!” He calls with enthusiasm, before both pivot on the spot, racing from the theatre.

“I’ll fucking kill you!” You shriek, your sight going red as you sprint after them down the corridor, pulling your gun out as you give chase. Genevieve looks at you over her shoulder as they reach the stairwell, regarding you with a look of familiarity.

“Eight! Eight, it’s not worth it!” Two yells from the doorway, watching you with a deep concern. She knew what you were capable of, your whole team did, but not the Lushnick’s. And from the looks of things, they didn’t care either. You stop halfway down the corridor, releasing the safety on your pistol and firing three shots at the door Gregory hand his hand pressed against. He jumps backwards in shock, glaring back at you, pure fury masking his features.

“Yes Eight, listen to your friend. She seems to be the brains of this group. We wouldn’t want you getting hurt now would we?” Genevieve snarls, baring too many teeth to be considered even remotely friendly.

Aiming the pistol once more, you line up your sights, finger hovering over the trigger. One shot, that’s all it would take. A bullet to the middle of Genevieve’s forehead would kill her instantly, and Gregory would have no choice but to surrender. “Are you going to kill me? Shall I say hello to Kellie when I see her?”

You stare at Genevieve, her words ringing through your ears, and sending a jolt of shockwaves straight down your spine. In that moment of hesitation, the Lushnick’s push through the stairwell door, and flee.

You’re paralysed on the spot, staring after where the Lushnick’s had stood moments ago. They recognised you. They knew who you were and why you wanted revenge. But how? It had been years since you last saw them, you had been a child! Surely you looked different now from back then? But they knew you! They remembered Kellie… A gun shot rings down the corridor, the sound of metal clanging to the tiled floor following directly after.

“Eight! What happened?” One yells, now free of his handcuffs, and jogging down the corridor to meet you. You hadn’t moved. Still stood with your arms raised, and gun pointed to where Genevieve had stood.

“They – They knew me.” You gulp, putting the pistol away with shaking hands, and turning to look up at One. Tears were brimming in your eyes, though you refused to let them fall. At least not yet.

“What? But how?”

“I don’t know! That’s the fucking problem.” You hiss, storming away from One back towards the theatre. Once back, chaos surrounded Four, with everyone racing around him handing various different equipment and medications to Five, as she prepped some kind of antidote perhaps. “How’s he doing?”

Five looks up at you, regarding you with a careful mix of sympathy and hope. “The EpiPen gave him enough adrenaline to wake up again, though he’s extraordinarily groggy. Now I’m just tyring to figure out exactly what to give him to counteract the other shit that’s pumping through him.”

You nod your head in thanks, knowing you would find the time to thank Five properly once all of this was over. “What can I do to help?”

“We need to try and keep him awake, he keeps coming in and out of consciousness.” Three replies, as he passes Five a vile of clear liquid.

“Four? Can you hear me?” You ask carefully, stepping over to him and squeezing his hand tightly. His warm fingers curl around yours in reply, before falling limp against your palm.

“He’s out again! Wake him up!” Five yells to those in the room.

“Four, stay with us!” You plead, pressing a soft kiss against his knuckles. To hell with anyone seeing the act of intimacy, if One wanted to give you shit for it, he could do so when you were all in the clear. Though checking the room, you can’t find One or Two for that matter, they must still be in the corridor where you had left them?

Slowly, Four blinked his eyes open, frantic emerald flickering around the room and searching for something, or someone. Just as his eyes landed on yours, they fell shut again, and his body spasmed once more.

“Four, god dammit! Keep your fucking eyes open!” It was Seven yelling this time, his voice booming above all other noises in the vast room.

“Four, please just stay with us a little longer! Five, how are you going with those injections?” You can hear the tears in your voice as you beg for him to open his eyes again, but they remain closed. Turning to look at Five, she looks frazzled. Her hair which had started in a neat, slicked back bun, was now hanging loose down her back, and was wild with frizz. She looks up at you, not quite in a glare, but with enough ferocity behind the look that you know better than to bother her anymore.

Leaning down, you card your fingers through Four’s blonde curls, brushing away a few stray locks which were plastered to his forehead with sweat. Barely more than a slit, his eyes open and stare directly up at you. “Billy, please just keep your eyes open for me. You’re going to be fine, I swear.”

Three looks over at you, his ears perking up at the use of his teammates real name. It was one thing to use names in privacy back home. But during a mission, however failed that mission may be, now that was new. Shaking his head, he spots One and Two heading over, but with grim looks on their faces. “What’s the plan?” Two asks, her eyes locking with Three’s.

“There isn’t one, not really. We just need to keep him awake.” Five sighs. “I think I know what to give him to help, but I want him awake when I administer it. If it works correctly then it should knock him out for a bit. If he’s already unconscious when I give it to him, then I won’t know if it’s doing more harm than good.”

One turns his attention over to you now, lifting one brow as you meet his gaze. “Any idea what will keep him awake?”

You pause, clutching Four’s hand tightly, and staring blankly at One. “Trivia. He loves random trivia facts!” You blurt out after a beat of pause. All eyes turn to you in surprise, no one quite knowing how to respond to this information. You shrug lightly, averting your gaze from One’s. “We play a lot of trivial pursuit back at base.”

Seven is the first to break the silence, though not to mock you as you had thought would be the case. Instead, he looks down at Four. “Hey mate, did you know high heels were originally invented for men. Imagine Three chasing down the Lushnick’s in stilettos.” He laughs, which causes Four to stir slightly, his eyes opening just a tad.

“Fuck, you’re right. That did work.” One blinks in surprise, running a hand through his short hair.

“Of course it did. I know Four, I know what works on him.” You mutter quietly.

Without looking up, Five smirks to herself. “You sure do kid.”

There’s no fighting the embarrassment which claws within you. Perhaps now wasn’t the time to be making suggestive comments… “Alright, keep ‘em coming guys!”

“Um okay…. Uh, Canada has more lakes than anywhere in the world.” Seven offers unsurely.

“Those greedy fucks….” Four moans, causing everyone to pause, before laughing quietly. Good, his sense of humour was still intact, that’s surely a good sign!

Two steps closer, and looks down at Four in deep concentration, before leaning back slightly. “David Bowie, he did not in fact have two different coloured eyes. One of his pupils was permanently dilated after he was punched in the eye during an argument over a girl.”

“Bugger me, really?” Five pipes up, both brows raised in surprise. “I always thought he had one blue and one brown eye.” She shrugs, priming a syringe carefully.

Slowly, Four was waking up. Granted he wasn’t exactly moving very much, but his eyes were opening, and he was grinning somewhat at the facts that were being thrown at him.

Staring down at Billy, something pops into your mind, a fact which you had learnt years ago at school but never shared with anyone else. “Okay, here’s one for you. Madonna’s like a prayer, is actually not about praying, it’s about giving someone a blowjob!”

Silence follows, and you swear you could hear crickets chirping. “Why the fuck is that something you know?” Four groans quietly, his eyes searching all over your face, before finally meeting your own.

“Shit, I don’t know… I also didn’t think that would be the fact that would wake you up the most! I was hoping someone else would say something after me!” You grumble through a grin.

“Nothing could possibly beat that fact.” Four chuckles weakly, squeezing your hand as tightly as he could muster.

Five turns around, holding a full syringe in her right hand, and a sterile swab in the other. “Glad you’re awake. What I’m about to give you however, is going to send you right back to sleep. Sorry about that. But I assure you, next time you wake up, you’re going to feel amazing.” She grins, ripping open the swab, and swiping it over the inside of his elbow.

For the second time that day, Four winces in pain as a needle plunges through his skin. Squeezing his eyes shut against both the sight of the injection, and the stinging pain. Whatever Five had given him was fast acting, and soon enough Four finds it nearly impossible to reopen his eyes now that he’s closed them.

“Move him into the wheelchair there, it’ll be easier than carrying him out of here.” You suggest, pointing to the blue cushioned wheelchair in the corner of the room.

One, Three and Seven all nod their agreement, and move around the operating table, getting into position to lift Four. “Count of three…. One, two, three.” Three instructs, as the men lift Four who simply groans in protest. You watch his limp body be carried across the room, your heart aching at the sight. ‘It could be worse… He’s just asleep.’ You repeat to yourself, once again fighting back the tears which had remained ever present at the corners of your eyes.

Three pushes the wheelchair as you all follow in a daze. Your mind felt as if it were a million miles away from the current situation. For the briefest of moments, you had genuinely considered murdering Genevieve. Never once had you thought yourself capable of doing such a thing. But yet, there you had been. Gun poised, and trigger finger rearing to go. If it hadn’t of been for her words, then she would be dead…

The escape route was an easy one, especially with security still trying to figure out what had gone wrong on the geriatrics ward still. Swiping the keys to an ambulance at the docking bay, you load Four inside the back with Five to monitor him. One drives, Three and Two sitting beside him up the front. While you and Seven sit quietly in the back. Occasionally your focus returns to Four, but mostly you stare out of the back windows, watching as traffic zips around you. You nearly killed someone today… What sort of a person were you becoming? And did you even like the person you were turning into?

Four Eighths taglist (If you would like to be added, please let me know!) @sj-thefan @not-the-cleavers @jinxfirebolt18902 @softnorris @dear-vista @mixer2b @rintheemolion @shane-isa-shame @keithseabrook27 @tammykelly @himarisolace @buckingpeterparker @cailin-lefantasy @riddikuluslysirius @vivalakatee @pxroxide-prinxcesss

My Masterlist for all my other nonsense!

#four eighths #four x reader #number four #billy four #ben hardy/ billy #ben hardy/ four #ben hardy/ billy x reader #ben hardy fanfic #6 underground #6 underground four #6 underground fanfiction #billy/four #four x eight #four x you

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kitkat1003 · 3 years

Text

Tower Tales

6: I’ll be home for Christmas....you can count on me...

AO3 link

@asilcorner

(also recorded myself singing the song in this chapter, listen here!)

Their first Christmas in the tower is on the horizon, and while they try to remain optimistic about it all, it’s hard to be happy when you’re living in a prison.

Yakko, as usual, is shoving down his own sadness with ease. Wakko watches, with sharp eyes behind the veneer of dull suspicion, as Yakko cheerfully pulls out a Christmas tree from nowhere, has them all put up the ornaments one by one, instead of just throwing stuff on there. To elongate the process, perhaps, to force them to focus on the action rather than the lack of an escape.

Wakko sees, sometimes, Yakko’s eyes dart to the water tower door. He hears, at night, Yakko, going to the door and trying to wrench it open. Some nights Yakko spends hours, sometimes minutes, and sometimes Wakko hears Yakko stop, sit, and cry into his knees. He’s very quiet, but so is the tower, at night, and they have terribly good hearing for toons.

Yakko’s always smiling in the morning, with breakfast. Wakko worries.

The first few months after they’d figured out them being locked up wasn’t some prank, they’d thrown anything they could at the door to try and get out. After they’d ran out of ideas and materials, they’d quit, because it was more depressing to try, hope, be constantly disappointed than just to forget.

Or try to forget. Wakko guesses that Yakko can’t.

And Dot isn’t exactly thrilled, either. Wakko thinks she misses the outside more than she lets on. He vaguely remembers her, on days they felt like wreaking havoc would be boring, taking them on a picnic. The stock market hadn’t crashed yet, and then it did, so they didn’t have a lot of money. They did have the ability to steal, but even then they didn’t do it much because it wasn’t fun or right to steal from people who were already going bankrupt.

They’re mischievous, not cruel. Wakko wonders if the people who locked them in here knew that difference.

“What are we gonna do for Christmas?” he asks one afternoon, during lunch. “Do you think Santa can get in here with the door locked?”

The question has Dot suck in a sharp breath. She looks away, upset, and Yakko gives him a look, the one he gives whenever Wakko says something tactless.

Wakko doesn’t have a lot of tact. He thinks he might’ve eaten it, whatever it is.

“Santa can get in anywhere,” Yakko replies, hands on his hips, confident. “And we’ve been pretty good, despite the circumstances, so I think we’ll be getting plenty of presents from him.

That’s something that Wakko worries about. Presents. What is he even supposed to give his sibs that they can’t just create with toon powers? Making cards seems lazy, even if he would put all his effort into them.

Yakko, he’s sure, already has an idea. Because Yakko is smart. Dot probably has them figured out too.

“I thought you were off Santa’s nice list,” Dot says with a grin. “You know, for being a hypocrite?”

“I think he’ll find it in his heart to forgive me this year,” Yakko shoots back, hand on his chest, before standing up to put his plate in the sink. Wakko will lick them clean with his tongue, and Dot will put them in the dishwasher, and one of them will put them away when they’re done depending on when it finishes. They’re efficient, kind of.

“Should we decorate?” he asks, because so far they only have the tree, and the tower looks a little barren.

Dot’s eyes sparkle at the idea, and Wakko knows he is going to regret asking.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

By the end of the next day, the whole tower is put together, tinsel and twinkling lights that flicker hanging from the walls and ceiling. Dot puts mistletoe over every doorway they’ve made, and every time they happen to be beneath it, she makes sure they either give her a kiss on the cheek or she gives them one.

Yakko thinks it’s cute, if silly, and Wakko just shrugs it off.

They make a fireplace, with a chimney that they aren’t sure goes all the way through. Wakko tried climbing it, but halfway up he found himself shot back down, rolling across the floor covered in soot.

He couldn’t even try and argue to not take a bath that day. Yakko had dunked him in and hadn’t let him out until the black stopped coming off on Yakko’s gloves.

His hopes for Santa visiting are dashed, and he can see Dot deflate too.

“Who needs the guy, anyway,” he hears Yakko mutter, and Wakko wonders.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Dot is very, very sure that this Christmas is going to be great. She knows it is, despite the fact that they don’t even know if Santa can come see them, despite the fact that they won’t be able to go anywhere to see snow, despite how the world around her wants to tell her it won’t be.

She will spite that because she refuses to let anyone take this season from her. She and Yakko and Wakko start a food fight in the kitchen when making cookies, and cookie batter splatters all over the wall. Wakko ducks behind the kitchen island, with her, and holds out his hand.

“Truce?” He’s wearing an army hat, comically large on his head, with the straps hanging down past his shoulders.

If she wasn’t astronomically cute herself, Wakko might give her a run for her money.

“Let’s give our brother a wet new coat,” she agrees, and Yakko becomes the color of cookie batter in seconds.

“Betrayal! By my own siblings no less! Is nothing sacred?!” Yakko cries, leaning heavily against the stove with the back of his hand placed dramatically against his forehead. Dot and Wakko giggle, coming around to face him.

“I don’t know, I think this is a good look for you,” Dot gives him a once over and hides a laugh behind her hand. Wakko reaches out a finger and swipes a bit of the batter off of Yakko, sticking it in his mouth to taste.

“Mmmm,” he grins, and Yakko gets a mischievous gleam in his eye.

“You know, you’re right Dot! I ought to share my new looks with you, don’t you think?” he reaches out and sweeps them into a goopy hug before either of them can escape, and all three of them share the wealth of the batter that was supposed to go in the oven.

Dot takes a bath, then Yakko does, and Wakko licks himself and the kitchen clean. He’d offered to lick them clean, but they politely declined.

“Slobber just isn’t a good look on me,” she’d told him, and Wakko had shrugged and eaten the demolished mixing bowl.

After that, they actually make cookies, because as tasty as the batter was to Wakko, they might want some warm, chocolatey goodness.

They make milk-free ones, too, even though Yakko says they don’t have to, because they want him to have a good time too.

Besides, the cookies taste fine without milk. Who needs lactose?

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

That night, Dot is sitting at her vanity, and she looks in the mirror and is ever aware of the background of cold metal. The decorations look gorgeous, she put them up, she did everything she could to make the Tower become the season she loves.

(Well, she technically loves the spring the most, with its gorgeous flowers and sunny days for picnics, but still. Who doesn’t love winter? It has Christmas! And, now, it has Yakko’s birthday!)

But, even with all the decorations and fun, even with the mistletoe and the letters to Santa she can’t send, she feels...

Miserable.

She wants to go outside. She wants to play in the snow. She wants to harass street carolers by messing with the lyrics of their songs. She wants to be out there, with people, in the world, instead of sequestered away.

She sighs, remembering a tune from their previous Christmas.

I’ll be home for Christmas.

You can count on me.

Please have snow, and mistletoe,

And presents under the tree.

Christmas Eve will find me,

Where the love light gleams...

She trails off and sighs again, resting her arms on the vanity, and then her head on her arms.

She doesn’t notice the figure peeking from the third floor, frowning down at her in concern. Doesn’t notice the lightbulb appear over his head, before he ducks back upstairs.

She just sits there, thinking of the last time she saw a single snowflake.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Wakko locks up the third floor, a week and a half before Christmas.

When they ask, he tells them it’s a surprise. Because it will be. He finally knows what his gift for them, for Christmas, will be, and he can’t let them ruin it, because he really wants to see the pure surprise on their faces when they witness it.

He spends the days up till Christmas Eve working on it, finishing it Christmas Eve morning after breakfast and before lunch. He’ll have to double check it before showing it to them, but that’s fine. It’ll be about ten minutes security and then he can show them the magic he has in store.

Dot has swapped out her typical character modeled dress for a long sleeved one, with white fuzz trim on the hem and where the sleeves end. Yakko has a pair of deer antlers, and keeps calling himself Rudolph, whoever that is. Yakko says it’s going to be a hit a few years from now.

Wakko just puts on a Santa hat on top of his baseball cap and calls it a day. Dot calls him lazy, and he shrugs, cause that’s a fair assessment.

Christmas Eve is as fun as it is weird, because they don’t have anything anywhere to do to celebrate, but they cut out little paper snowflakes and angels to hang up and then watch and see how much eggnog Wakko can chug at once.

The answer is around 6 gallons, give or take, because Yakko capped him off there, worried.

“You’re such a mother hen,” Dot snickers, and Wakko tilts his head to the side with a hiccup.

“Isn’t a male chicken a cock?”

Yakko laughs.

“Goodnight everybody!”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

They meant to stay up, but they’re kids, so they fall asleep eventually. Wakko, kicking and squirming in bed, because even asleep he can’t stay still, wakes to the sound of frantic whispers.

“Please, just-just for tonight,” Yakko’s voice is quiet and pleading, and when Wakko blinks away the sleep from his eyes he turns into see Yakko, standing in front of Santa, hand gripping Santa’s coat.

And Wakko doesn’t have the time to process the fact that Santa is here, and real, because Yakko keeps talking.

“Please-just take them out, I’ll stay inside. We-just for the night, just let them see the sky again, some snow, it’s been months, please,” Wakko can’t see Santa’s face, but he does see the shake of his head.

Yakko’s voice cracks when he speaks.

“Just one ride? They’ll be good-I-,” Yakko pauses. “Okay, maybe they won’t be, you know them, but I’ll make sure they are, okay? They-they don’t deserve to be locked in here. It’s Christmas, so just for tonight-please.”

There’s something so young about Yakko’s voice, then. Yakko doesn’t sound like a kid, sometimes, and Wakko doesn’t always either, but for him it’s for laughs and for Yakko it’s because he’s tired.

Santa says something, puts a hand on Yakko’s shoulder, and Yakko deflates. Wakko doesn’t even notice that there are new presents under the tree yet, because he’s too busy trying to be quiet enough to hear.

“Just go,” Yakko’s voice is hard, and quiet, and cold, and sad. Santa pulls another present from his bag and sets it beneath the tree, and disappears up the chimney.

Wakko watches Yakko tremble in place, for a good two minutes. He counts the seconds in his head, because it feels like they go so slow. Yakko finally stops, takes in a deep breath, and sighs.

“Who needs the guy, anyway,” he hears Yakko repeat, and he pretends to snore as Yakko walks back to bed, and buries his face in the pillow.

It takes a long time for him to get back to sleep.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Wakko wakes up on Christmas to the smell of peppermint hot cocoa at the crack of dawn-at the very least, it feels like the crack of dawn, because it’s earlier than he’s woken up in a while, but the elation of Christmas!!!! has him up in an instant.

There’s a large stack of presents beneath the tree, their names written in pretty cursive of the same handwriting. Dot is all cheer, and he watches her skip towards the kitchen. He shuffles over himself. Yakko sets two cups of hot cocoa on the table, and swirls the top with a large helping of whipped cream, before sprinkling some peppermint on top.

“Merry Christmas, sibs,” he smiles down at them, and it almost makes Wakko forget about the night before. “My gift to you is your menu of choice. The whole day, a la carte menu. Whatever you guys want, I’ll make. So, what’s for breakfast?”

Wakko’s eyes are blown wide. Yakko has no idea the can of worms he’s opened with that open ended gift. Or, maybe he does, because he puts on a chef’s coat and hat, and sets up the stove, and a grill, and the oven.

“Bring it on, little brother. But, uh, let me make Dot’s first? Something tells me hers will be a biiiiit quicker to make.” Wakko bites his tongue at that request, and Dot prattles off a normal order, because she’s boring.

By the time Yakko is done with Wakko’s order, he’s out of baloney in his slacks.

“I’ll put some more in there later.” He shrugs it off, and Wakko finishes off plate thirty seven with a grin.

After that, they open up the presents under the tree. Yakko gets some notebooks, a set of fancy pens, and a very expensive looking leather belt. He also gets some books, and a perfect replica of a Shakespearian outfit.

He seems happy, but his smile is strained. Wakko thinks he knows why. Yakko is getting better at hiding it, though, because he almost didn’t notice Yakko was sad at all. There’s still a trace, though.

Wakko wonders if he’ll start forgetting to look for that.

Dot gets the latest model of hair straightener and curler, and a wide breadth of makeup products, as well as a poetry book that she regards with half suspicion and half curiosity. She gets a notebook and pen, too, one with a feather plume sticking out the end. She uses it to brush underneath her chin, giggling.

Wakko gets some chew toys, some that he doesn’t see himself devouring just yet, and a necklace with a chew on too. He puts it on and nibbles on it as he opens up the others. He gets an engineering book, called “Building Without the Math,” and it sounds right up his alley. He also gets a tool kit, which he places in his gag bag for safe keeping.

The other items are mostly random toys they hadn’t known existed because they haven’t been outside. Wakko uses the propeller of a toy plane as a fan, and then spits in it to see the drool droplets hover.

“Eugh,” Dot growls out, looking away, before she sighs and reaches into her dress pocket. “This leads to my gift.” She hands both Yakko and Wakko a set of flash cards on a ring.

“Coupons?” Yakko flips through them, and then snickers.

“You two can do things that...,” Dot struggles for the world. “Make me uncomfortable. Cause you’re boys.” She rolls her eyes. “But you like to do them ‘cause they make you happy, not because they make me annoyed, so these are your passes for that. Valid for a year.”

There are ones like “Can lick me” and “Allowed to not bathe for 2 weeks” that Wakko thinks are specifically targeted at him but hey, why not? Baths are dumb, and he licks to show affection! He sticks the cards in his cap.

Yakko rips one out, hands it to her.

“Thanks, Dottie,” he stresses her least favorite nickname, and she bares her teeth in a very strained smile, snatching the coupon from his hand. But Yakko laughs, and soon enough, they all are.

“I’m also going to put away the decorations, no extra charge,” she waves a hand.

“Sounds good to me,” Wakko hops up, fidgeting with his long sleeves. “I...have to prepare my gift for you. Can you guys wait on the second floor?”

Yakko and Dot share a look, and then nod.

Wakko vanishes up to the third floor, heart in his throat.

He hopes this works.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He makes them put blindfolds on, pulling them up the stairs. Yakko holds Dot’s hand in one and Wakko’s in the other, helping Dot up as Wakko drags him along.

“What’s with the secrecy, Wakko?” He asks, and Wakko bounces in nervous excitement, tail curled around his leg.

“It’s a surprise,” he insists, and sets them up perfectly, on the mark he planned out. He’d checked, double checked, triple checked. If this doesn’t work he is going to lose it.

He turns off the lights, and pushes his contraption to the back of the room.

“Wakko, I would like to see sometime today,” Dot calls, and Wakko fidgets.

“Almost done!” The ice is in, okay, now just push the button.

There’s a series of clanks, and then a loud, grinding sound. Dot and Yakko shiver, and Wakko is glad he used scarves for blindfolds.

There’s a loud FWUMP, and Wakko bounces on his toes. His feet make indents in the ground.

“Okay, you can look now!”

Dot and Yakko pull down their blindfolds, and Dot gasps.

They’re surrounded by snow.

There’s a model of a crescent moon up by the ceiling, that acts like a lamp, and glow in the dark stars that glimmer pasted up on the ceiling, with constellations they find familiar. From the machine in the back, snowflakes are shot out, drifting slowly to the ground.

“I, uh, I made snow,” Wakko shrugs, a little self conscious. “Since we can’t go outside, I thought...,” What is there to say?

Dot takes one step into the snow, like she can’t believe it, and squeals when her feet crunches into it, jumping around.

Yakko is still dumbstruck, until Dot comes around and shoves snow down his pants. He jumps up comically high with a shriek, ears brushing the ceiling, and when he falls into the snow it makes a perfect imprint of him.

“Oh, that’s it!” he picks up some snow and throws it at her. Dot throws some back. Wakko runs into the fray, nailing Dot in the face, and she takes her revenge with deadly precision, before sprinting over to him and tackling him into the ground.

“Thank you thank you thank you thank you!” she shouts so loud that Wakko’s ears ring.

“Merry Christmas?” he tries, and she laughs.

“I knew you were my favorite brother!”

“Hey, I’m offended!” Yakko sprints over, but he’s laughing too, and he drops on top of them, wrapping his arms around them and rolling over in the snow, so they’re on top of him.

He nuzzles Wakko’s nose with his own.

“Nice job, little brother. Think you got us beat with this gift.” Wakko blushes, looking away.

“Wanna make a snowman?” he responds, because you’re welcome seems too formal.

“Heck yeah!” Dot jumps up and runs over to a large pile of snow.

“Watch your fucking language!” Yakko barks without heat.

“You’re not the boss of me!”

Wakko giggles, and Yakko sits up.

“C’mon, let’s not let her have all the fun,” Yakko picks him up and sets him off to the side, and Wakko is off like a shot the moment his feet touch the ground.

He thinks about the night before, of Yakko’s words.

Who needs the guy, anyway?

Beneath the fake moonlight, where the snow still sparkles like Wakko remembers, with Dot giggling up a storm as they make the largest snowman they can, with Yakko looking lighter than he has since they got stuck in here, Wakko can’t help but agree.

Who needs Santa anyway?

He can hear the tune from before, in his head, and hums it as they work, smile widening when Dot and Yakko join in.

I’ll be home for Christmas

If only in my dreams!

#animaniacs #animaniacs 2020 #kitkat1003 #yakko wakko and dot #yakko warner #wakko warner #dot warner #christmas fic #tower tales

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bittywitches · 4 years

Text

A random Dialogue I came up with in my head while trying to fall asleep the night before. // G.D

Been having trouble writing lately and ended up just daydreaming (night dreaming?) abt Grayson one night, so I thought I’d try and just get it out and write something. Enjoy :)

You’re sitting in your bedroom, laying on your back with your laptop sitting on your stomach. You’re cuddled up with your jumbo-oversized teddy bear, your head resting on it’s furry stomach and your elbows lazily resting against it’s fat squishy legs. A google doc is opened on your screen, and you’re trying to half-assedly write a response for your final project on why Duke Orsino actually was gay in Twelfth Night, along with many of the other supporting characters, despite what most old white bardolators may tell you.

You feel a vibration near your leg, and you tilt your head to the side to see someone calling your phone. You pick it up, and your eyes widen when you see that it's a facetime call from Grayson Dolan. This was, of course, a shock, considering you and Grayson weren’t even that close friends, you only occasionally texted each other anymore, barely ever called, and literally NEVER facetimed. You guys had barely spoken to each other since quarantine had started, so it was definitely a surprise.

Your eyes flicker to your laptop screen, seeing that it’s around 9pm. Not too late that it’s sketchy or anything, but still pretty late for it to be strange.

You place your laptop down beside you and situp, leaning back against your headboard, quickly tying your hair up into a quick messy bun to make yourself look somewhat presentable. You slide the green phone icon across your screen.

Grayson’s face appears on your phone. He’s wearing a cute oversized fuzzy hoodie. His short hair is a bit frizzy, and it still takes you by surprise because you’re so used to seeing his long flowy locks.

“Heyy,” Grayson says, smiling at you. From behind his screen, Grayson sets himself down onto the living room couch, laying back on the arm.

“Hey.” You respond.

“What’re you up to?”

“Uhh, not much. Just working on final assignments and whatnot.”

“Oh, yea, school’s almost over for you, right?”

“Yep, just a few more weeks.”

“Bet you’re excited to finally get time off.”

You chuckle. “Yeah, tired of being stressed all the time.”

“Makes sense.”

An awkward silence fills both your rooms.

“Soo…” Grayson lays his head on the side of his couch.

“What’s up? Why’d you call?” You ask him.

“Oh, no reason. Just bored and felt like talking to someone.”

“Ethan not home?”

“Nah, he went out skateboarding with some friends.”

“This late?”

“It’s not that late. Just went to the park nearby.”

“Sounds fun. You know, I’ve always wanted to learn how to skateboard.”

“Yea?”

“Mhm. Maybe E can teach me sometime.”

“Hey, I know how to skateboard too. And I’d definitely be a much better teacher.”

You laugh. “Alright, next time we meet up you can teach me how to skateboard.”

“It’s a date.”

You both give a lighthearted chuckle, but then things turn quiet again.

“Erm, hold on.” You place your phone down on your bed.

“Where’re you goin’?”

“Gonna put my phone on a pillow so I don’t have to keep holding it,” You say, grabbing your nearest one and doing your best to balance your phone on top of it.

“Is that a giant teddy bear?” From the angle of your phone, Grayson can see your big stuffed animal sitting behind you.

“Haha, yea.” You lean back down on it briefly to give him a better idea of the size. “He’s my cuddle buddy.”

“That’s cute.”

“Our relationship has gotten a lot stronger since quarantine started.” You peck the bear on the nose. Grayson laughs.

“I’m happy for you guys.” You giggle, sitting back up.

“Why thank you.” You turn your attention back to your laptop quickly, and Grayson follows your line of vision.

“So what subject is this final for?”

“English.” You sigh. “Which sucks, because I’m shit at it.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“Oh but it is. I always do incredibly bad, I’m literally the worst.”

“Well you’re definitely not the worst, because I exist.”

“Well yeah but it’s not your fault that you can’t read.”

“Hey, I can read!”

“Sorry, It’s not your fault that you’re ass at reading. It is however my fault that I can’t write for shit.”

He laughs. “Fine, sure.”

You giggle. “Sorry. Just a bit stressed.”

“No big deal.”

Silence again. Usually now would be the time you’d make some excuse and cut the call. But for some reason unknown to you, you didn’t want to do that. You want to fill it.

“Oh, I watched your guys’ last video.” You raise an eyebrow at him. “Tell me you guys weren’t just trying to look like douchebags with your literal 100 grand.”

“Aughhh,” He groans, rubbing his face with the hand not holding his phone. “I swear we really weren’t.”

“Uhuh.”

“I realize that it may not look like that,”

“Oh really?”

“Considering we actually had wads of cash,”

“Mhmmm.”

“But we weren't, I swear. We just thought it’d be funny for a stupid little video.”

“Okay then.”

“Hey!”

“Not judging.”

“Since when do you watch our videos anyways?”

You gave him a side-look. “What do you mean? You think I don’t?”

He shrugs. “Dunno. Just assumed…”

“You’re my friend. ‘Course I do.”

He smiles.

“Plus they are pretty fun. Like to have them on in the background when I work sometimes..”

“No way, really?”

“Yeah, why not?”

“I mean, all the ones since quarantine we’ve had to be pretty creative with. Since we’re stuck at home and all.”

“You guys don’t give yourselves enough credit. I love what you come up with. It’s cool to just listen to you both ramble about stuff.”

“...Are you saying you also listen to the podcast?”

Your eyes shoot back to him. He was actually joking, but seeing your guilty expression lead to the smug sort of look on his face.

“You guys have very satisfying voices, okay?”

“Uhuh.”

“Shut the fuck up!” You laugh, and he does as well.

“Either way, thanks. It means a lot that you do. I never really know if people we’re friends with like our stuff, so it’s good to know that at least someone does.”

You smile, and he returns it.

You suddenly hear a ding coming from his side.

“Oh shit almost forgot about my toast-” You see Grayson’s phone wobble as he gets up to head for the kitchen.

“Avocado?”

“You know it.” “Dang, I don’t think I’ve had avocado toast since…” You pause. “Huh. I guess since I accidentally ran into you at that one restaurant and we happened to get food together.”

“What-” He rights the phone so it’s facing him again. “That was ages ago!”

“Yea, I know.”

“That’s unacceptable.”

“You may think so.”

“Alright, so after I teach you how to skateboard, I’m gonna have to take you out for food.”

You laugh. “Is that a set in stone thing?”

“Oh definitely.”

He sets his food down on a table, and you watch as he tries to balance his phone up against something. He sits down, then takes a bit before looking back up at you.

“So when’s this due?”

“Uhh, tomorrow night.”

“You almost done?”

“Er..” You look at your half written page. “...sort of.”

“So no,” he chuckles, and you do too.

“I’ll finish it, don’t worry.”

“Didn’t say I was.”

“Well that’s ru-”

“Because I know you’ll finish it,” He interrupts you, and you roll your eyes. “You always do.”

You sigh, setting your elbow down on your knee and resting your face on your hand. You watch him silently for a bit, and he takes a few more bites before realizing your eyes on him.

“What?” He says, food still in his mouth.

“Nothin’,”

“Yea?”

“Yea, just… kinda just miss you.” You finally blurt out.

He stops chewing suddenly, and looks at his phone with a very intent look. He expects you to say more, but you don’t, looking back at your laptop screen.

He swallows, then sets his toast down. “Kinda just miss you too.”

You smile, trying to hide it by squishing the palm of your hand into your face, not taking your eyes off of the illuminated laptop.

“Why don’t we hang out anymore?”

“Because we’re legally not allowed to.” You finally look back at your phone, grabbing it from it’s pillow stand and then flopping down onto your bear’s belly.

He rolls his eyes. “No, smartass. Before that.”

You shrug. “Dunno. We never really did to begin with.”

“Sure we did, there was the restaurant, and…” He trails off, looking far away at some corner of the room.

“I mean we hung out with other friends. And we talked sometimes.” You shrug again. “Not really much else though.”

He runs a hand through his short hair. “Why not?”

You laugh. “Bro, I don’t know! You never asked!”

“Well I fuckin wanted to!” He rubs his face with both his hands as he chuckles.

“Really?” Your laughter dies down now, a softer tone taking on your voice.

“Duh, of course.” He tilts his head as his soft eyes look at you. “You’re really fucking cool, and I really wanted to get to know you better, but it felt weird to just randomly come out of no where and be like ‘hey, wanna hang out?’ like that shit usually comes naturally, yknow?”

“Well, we don’t really hang out in the same circles, so I don’t know how it would.”

“Yeah, but I thought maybe…” He sighs. “I don’t know. I didn’t even know if you wanted to be friends or anything, so..”

“Well that’s frustrating.” You slump your shoulders down, relaxing more into your bed. “I really wanted to be friends. Just didn’t wanna seem fucking… annoying or anything.”

“Oh my god why are we like this.”

“I don’t fucking know!!” You both burst out laughing, and you momentarily drop your phone to rub the tears out of your eyes.

“Okay, it’s settled then.” You hear his voice and pick your phone up off your stomach to face it towards your face again, now sitting up.

“What is?”

“After quarantine and everything is over I’m definitely taking you out for food and skateboarding.”

You grin. “Okay. Sounds amazing.”

“Great.” There’s quiet again, but it’s not awkward anymore, both of your gleeful grins speak volumes over it.

“Okay.”

You giggle. “Okay, I should go. Should probably actually try and get this thing done.”

“Right. I’ll… call you tomorrow?”

You bite your tongue. “Yeah.”

“Okay, bye.”

“Bye.”

You cut the call, and let your arms fall down to your sides as you fall back on your bed and grin up at the ceiling. You squeeze your eyes shut, just breathing in and out to calm yourself down from the little rush. Though the buzz of your phone once again catches your attention.

You get up and look at it, seeing it’s a text from Grayson.

Grayson D.: Just realized you probably don’t have a skateboard…

You bit your lip, and flopped down onto your belly now, your legs up in the air as you text him back.

Y/N: You’d be right 😅

Your eyes eagerly watch the three dots bouncing on the screen.

Grayson D.: Would you wanna borrow one of mine?

Y/N: I’m totally good with getting my own, but idk where

Grayson D.: Well there’s this shop near my house…

Assignment long forgotten, you and Grayson end up talking well into the night.

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