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whenyourshipfinallysetssail · 2 years

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Just some random

STRANGER THOUGHTS 2

***SPOILERS FOR SEASON 4***

*****My smoldering hot-takes on the season’s hottest DILF. 🥵******

Jeezus, is it a million and one degrees in here, or am I trapped in a Russian Prison with Enzo?

See, that’s funny because you’d think a Russian prison would be cold, but then there’s a hot DILF in there.

Question number one: ok yeah enemies to lovers but has anyone ever tried “helpful prison guard to sexy cell mate?” Is that a trope? Can we make it one?

Now you’re probably asking yourself, does this crazy bitch ship Hopper and Enzo?

And the answer is yes, of course I do, but not in an “I’m gonna be mad if this show doesn’t make this cannon” sort of way. I know nobody is queer-baiting me here. If anyone is queer-baiting me it’s me. I’m very good at it, thank you very much. I can imagine incredibly straight men are in love when they’re on screen together in my eyeline for too long. That said, Ronance, Steddie, Byler, and Jargyle: make it canon or we riot. [How fucking dumb was it when they just threw a random chick at Argyle to show the audience he’s got a big case of the not-gays? Who cares. This show loves smashing straights against each other. Show me some bi 80’s teens or shut the fuck up. Also, watch out, everybody, cause the Mileven Mafia is about to come gunning for me: I don’t give one single fuck about Mike and El’s relationship and I never have. El’s busy, guys. She’s got a whole “facing down an inter-dimensional existential threat/I’ve got two dads but one is abusive and one’s in a gulag” thing going on. Fuckin’ don’t make her date a boy right now.]

Now, back to that gulag. Ah, Enzo. Dimitri “Enzo” Antonov. My imaginary boyfriend that someone else imagined for me, who is never going to date my other imaginary boyfriend from Season 1 [on TV, at least. In head canon it’s already happening and you can’t stop it] for two reasons: A) because obviously Jopper is a thing and the writers aren’t going to suddenly drop that just because we got season 2 of the gay pirates. (But wouldn’t that be WILD? What if they had shot two versions of the ending and they held back Vol. 2 so they could use the gay ending if Our Flag Means Death got renewed? Would the internet survive the aftermath?) And B) my two boyfriends can never date because canonically Season 1 Hopper died in Season 3 when the Duffer Brothers got amnesia and started telling David Harbor to just scream at everyone in every scene. RIP, baby. I still love you.

[Side-Note: I’ve got so many good hashtags for this ship you guys: #jimitri #hopptonov #enzopper #hoppzo. They write themselves. These men fit like puzzle pieces. Sexy, sexy little puzzle pieces. Mmmm. Cold, boys? Why don’t you two papa bears snuggle up for warmth? Yeah . . . Yeah . . . That’s real cozy . . . . . . . ANYWAY]

And of course, C) #jimzo #twopigsinablanket [lol, they’re both cops] is never gonna happen because they’re absolutely setting up my glorious Russian cinnamon roll for a tragic heroic death.

Look, snow-muffin, I love you. You’re the steely-eyed, growly-voiced, salt and peachy mustached, true friend to the death, morally grey Russian with a not-so-secret heart of gold of my fuckin’ dreams. I’d watch a whole spin off that’s just you teaching your son to ice fish in silence. I want you and Mikhail to defect to America and move in with Jim and El and wind up in a super bi thrupple with Chief Hopper and my self insert OC. (Her name is Azelia Moondragon, she has three different color eyes, she can change genitalia at will, she has an IQ of 3.6 billion, and and she’s more powerful than the Mind Flayer, Vecna,El, and eight demogorgons put together . . . Nah, just fuckin’ with you. Her name’s Kate Kauffman and she’s a 38 year old therapist from New Jersey with a secret drinking problem.)

Listen, my ice duke, my proud Siberian wolf, my shot of Svayak with a spoonful of caviar, we both know you could have an AMAZING arc in Season 5. We both know you could wind up snatched by the US government and forced to remain at the lab in Hawkins while the feds scramble to cover up the existence of the Demogorgon you saw, that you could have a moving side mission to bring your son to the US illegally while you help your bestest pal Hop and his annoying girlfriend [no, she’s fine, it’s fine, I like her, they’re good together, not all the hot men want to kiss each other, and that’s ok] parent their sulky teens and save the damn world.

We both know you could fall madly, passionately in love with the mysterious new psychologist that the lab hires to provide you and the other Demogorgon survivors “trauma and readjustment therapy,” but who has secretly been tasked with wiping your memory so you can never go back to Russia and tell the world what you know. We’re both well aware that after she succumbs to your arctic-foxlike charm, Dr. Kate Kauffman could never bare to wipe your memories, that she would instead confess that she is not a psychiatrist, she is in fact a powerful psychic, a subject of the experiment that preceded Hawkins Lab, that in a fit of tears as she laid bare her secrets she would lift up her sleeve to reveal the mark on her wrist, faded, but perfectly legible: “000,” and then as you took her in your arms and told me no harm has been done, all is forgiven, you’re here to protect me now, the two of us would begin to float into the . . .

*Ahem* At any rate . . .

My beautiful near-winter ermine, we both know you have so much potential as a character. But it’s time for both of us to face the harsh, cold facts, so much colder and more harsh than the winters of your beloved homeland.

Dimitri, my darling, here are the reasons we both know you’re definitely not making it out of Season 4 alive:

1) You’ve got a son to get back to. ROOKIE mistake, my love. I’m frankly astonished at you. And you revealed it RIGHT before the big monster battle? I mean, why don’t you just do a big monologue about how you two are going to open up an awesome rabbit farm when you get home? Do you WANT to die? Baby, I volunteer for a suicide hotline. Next time you feel compelled to confess touching details about yourself the night before you face a deadly threat right at the end of a season arc, call me. We can talk it through. You have so many reasons to live!

And of course, that is why you are going to die.

2) Where is Mikhail’s mom?

Now, this one’s interesting. Arguments COULD be made this could go either way.

The facts are these:

You’ve made zero mention of your wife in all this “reflecting upon our lives as we stare into the gaping maw of death” talk. MAYBE your wife divorced you, and that’s why you don’t like to talk about her. Seems unlikely, given Hop got you to punch him by implying she was disloyal. (Although we can’t rule out the possibility that that remark hit just a little too close to home. Perhaps your drive to be seen as a hero of the Motherland in the eyes of your son stems from a need to demonstrate you are the REAL daddy, a bigger, braver, cooler man than the stepfather his mother left you for? Interesting. We can discuss this again in your next session, Dimitri. That is, if we even do any talking next time . . . I mean, what? Huh? Oh! Right, the thingy. Yeah, sorry, I uh, got distracted by the . . . Nevermind.)

ANYWAY, the much more likely answer is, Mikhail’s mommy is deadzo. You are not only a DILF, you are a hot widower, and the show runners are saving this juicy detail for the inevitable “calm before the coming storm,” beat, the moment just before your heroic sacrifice during the final battle or the crazy escape sequence, when Hop says something cheesy like “You’ve got to rest up. Tomorrow you’re gonna need all your strength to hug that wife and kid of yours.”

And you’ll stare just left of camera with your gorgeous, steely gaze, and you’ll say in your low, haunted voice “I will need strength for only one hug. I am all the family my son has left.”

BOOM. You’re dead. The emotional stakes just got higher and all the Duffer Brothers have to do now is fry ‘em up in the bacon grease of tragic irony and serve them to the audience with a side of mashed dream-potatoes as we weep for you. Now your son is an orphan! And Season 5 has a ready-made cute Russian to bring in and fatten with all our collective emotional investment before the final slaughter. [Fun fact: the third ritual sacrifice of a beloved fictional Russian in a series opens an actual real portal to a hell-dimension in our world!!! The last one opened on January 15, 1968, when the finale of The Man From U.N.C.L.E was broadcast! It was only closed by “chance” when the counter spell was “unwittingly” triggered by casting Armie Hammer as Illya Kuryakin in the GUY RITCHIE directed remake. GUY RITCHIE. Did you know he made a King Arthur Movie?! The Lock, Stock, and Every Movie Jason Statham Has Ever Been in guy. Made a remake of a 60’s tv show and a King Arthur movie with WAY TOO MANY GOD DAMN WIZARDS. Anyway, like I said, luckily the portal was closed, but the things which came from its depths still roam our Earth, seeking raw flesh and fun 60’s fashion accessories. Remember, Ritchie has more dark power and arcane knowledge than he’s letting on, and always wear an ascot or a cute colorful beret when you go out or you will perish horribly!]

Then again, there is a hopeful reading of the no-wife-scenario. MAYBE, dead wife means no strings to hold down the season 5 Enzo romantic D plot. MAYBE they’re leaving you open for more hasty and gratuitous hetero coupling! Doctor Kauffman?! Paging Doctor Kauffman to the set of Stranger Things Season 5! They’re prepping for your close up! And after that, you’re making ST history, they’re setting up to shoot the show’s first sex scene with two adults!!!

[remember when we watched two teens awkwardly fuck while Barb was gruesomely murdered in Season 1? That scene has gotten even LESS comfortable somehow as the actors have aged. You look back and see how young they look compared to now and you’re like “yikes! I know the actors were actually twenty, but please! No more babies fucking, thanks!” Glad they stopped doing that shit. If I had to watch El and Mike fuck I’d hurl, for more reasons than one. LEAVE HER ALONE AND LET HER FIGURE OUT HER SHIT GOD DAMN IT I DON’T NEED TO SEE HER PUNCH MIKE’S V CARD I DON’T CARE THIS ISN’T EUPHORIA ITS A GOD DAMN SCI FI 80’s THROWBACK FUN TIME ABOUT PSYCHIC BABIES!]

So, yeah, no wife could mean free meat for the season five Hetero-pairing meat grinder! There’s hope!

. . . Hope? . . . Who am I kidding? I’m sorry, Dimitri, but this is no time, no world for hope! This is Stranger Things! Do you really think we’re gonna make it out of another season with two new cast members still alive like we did in Season 2? No. No, in the end they killed Billy for his hubris in daring to outlast Bob Newby. All good looking things must end, my dear. Let us kill hope now, before she hurts us again.

3) This Show Fucking Loves Killing Precious Russian Moonbeams [alternatively titled “Are The Duffer Brothers Attempting to Summon The Ravening One From Beyond the 9,000th Eye?!?! Stay Tuned For Season 4 to Find Out!”]

I don’t know if, like, everyone in Russia knows everyone in Russia, but, like, probably not? It looks like a pretty big country on the map. But, Enzy, baby, can I call you Enzy? No? Ok, well, Antonov, sweetheart, do you remember Alexi? He was this really cute, funny, enjoyable Russian sidekick they had last season. We had so much fun with him! At first, we thought he was this bad Russian scientist who was going to help screw over our beloved friends, but in the end, he actually teamed up with them! We all really came to love Alexi! He was kind of a fan favorite! People wrote long, rambling things with a lot of weird jokes in them about him on Tumblr. And then . . .

Sound familiar?

Call me a pessimist, but I just don’t think the Duffer Bros can pass up an opportunity to murder a beloved fictional Russian. Besides, it has been long since the gate was opened. The Ravening One cries out for more tender flesh from our own corporeal plane. Its inessence rumbles, its dark mindlessness bends upon our dimension with all the fell, unfeeling intent and obsession of otherworldly instincts. The Duffer Brothers are thinking of doing a 60’s throwback for their next show, and Guy Ritchie is slated to direct the first seance, I mean episode! . . . Plus they’re like so attentive to details, they’d never kill three Russians on accident! Or forget their birthdays.

Dimitri “Enzo” Nikolai Andronic Niklosky Antonov, we could play this little game of denial, dream this little dream of happiness, torture ourselves a little while longer with what can never be. But neither you nor I are fools. Let us say goodbye now. Let us bid farewell to visions of you doing a really cool group side mission for one or two episodes with Steeve and Eddie and Robin and Nancy and Dustin and Max and El. Let us not cling any longer to fantasies of an episode beat where the adults go out on the town and you and Hopper get in a big bar fight with some assholes who are teasing Joyce and Murray, and you do lots of cool punching to some banging 1987 hit like, I don’t know, RICK ASTLEY’S “NEVER GONNA GIVE YOU UP?!?!?!” [Did I do it? Does it count as Rick Rolling if it’s in text?]

Let us let go once and for all of our wistful longing for all the dopamine-explosion moments as you interact and bond and integrate with the entire Stranger Things ensemble, the giddy spectacle of novel combination after novel recombination of beloved characters, that heady right of passage of exploring increasingly bizarre pairings and group dynamics all new ST characters who survive their first season are treated to, until the dread Season 5 finale ultimately tears them all assunder as the eldritch gods of the Upsidedown inevitably triumph and wipe all away with one mighty, slimy tendril of inter-dimensional horror.

All I can say, Enzipie, Dimipants, Antobutt, is that it’s been one hell of a ride. You may be just a corrupt guard of some remote, snowy prison in the middle of nowhere, betrayed by his crooked accomplice, imprisoned alongside his former captive, escaped with the aide of unlikely allies, and doomed by the conventions of narrative drama to die, but you melted my heart.

At least we get to keep Eddie! . . . Right? Duffers? DUFFERS?!

TOUCH HIM AND YOU DIE, GOD DAMN IT!!!

*begins sobbing and singing unintelligible Russian dirges while pounding the table rhythmically with fist*

#enzopper #jimitri #hoppzo #hopptonov #jimzo #two pigs in a blanket #stranger things speculation #stranger things season 4 #st4 spoilers #stranger things #dimitri enzo antonov #enzo stranger things #ronance #steddie #jargyle #Byler #humour #stranger things meme #hopper x enzo

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yesimwriting · 3 years

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Hello! Your Nikolai fic tranquility is so beautiful! Can you write more for Nikolai? Maybe the opposite with reader having a nightmare? Or whatever you want just please give me more! If you have a tagging list I'd love to be included btw :)

A/n hii!! first off,, thank you! i was a little nervous about writing him for the first time,, but i love him so much (even though i love a good villain/morally grey character in love i think nikolai would probably make the least toxic bf in the grishaverse lol)

you gave me a little too much freedom here lol bc i have so many ideas for him!! lowkey might need to give him a longer fic/series soon when i catch up with requests!! WOW THIS FIC IS SO LONG AND FOR WHAT

Summary: Reader is a handmaid who has grown up assisting Nikolai. Through the years, the two have developed a special relationship that most definitely breaks royal protocol--they’re best friends and rivals on a good day, and dangerously close to being something more the second either of them is remotely upset or extremely happy. Learning about the fact that Nikolai was almost engaged to Alina (a good friend of yours) and being reminded of the fact that as royalty Nikolai has many prospects (both serious women worthy of his title and women only suitable for trysts meant to relieve tension) has you both realizing something you should have years ago.

Word count: 31210

Warnings: disclaimer--may not be the most cannon thing ever,, but i wanted the ‘child of the help competes and falls in love with the child of royalty’ energy okay?? Lol

I could do a whole blurb series with this dynamic nikolai x reader,, like just stories of them growing up together and randomly realizing they might like each other romantically?? I probably shouldn’t rn but i ADORE this trope.

The perfection of the room is disappointing. Idle hands, idle thoughts--so I work to smooth out a perfect duvet. Still, the thoughts come--aggressive and unavoidable. It’s silly, maybe even sad, to feel possessive over something that’s never been yours, something that could never be yours, but the harder I fight off the feeling the stronger it grows. Jealousy is a weed growing quickly in my chest, vile roots planted firmly in my heart.

Normally my favorite part of the day would be waiting for Nikolai to return to his room in the palace after dinner and his evening duties. He’s always a bit softer in the evenings, during my last check-in of the day. I’m normally thrilled to be done organizing his room early because that means the second he arrives there will be no distraction. Most evenings, he’ll find me perched in the seat by his bed, reading. He’ll mock-scold me for daring to defy his orders and reading ahead from the book we both take turns reading aloud from each night. He then warns me that I better react exactly the way I did when I first read it or else. That threat is always followed by a gentle laugh.

Tonight I’m in no mood for our nightly banter or even our nightly reading. My mother had warned me of the dangers of getting too comfortable with the royal family. I should have heeded that warning when she first gave it to me, the morning she found Nikolai and I fast asleep on a couch in the library as children. The palace likes to bring up the children of the staff by training them to attend to the next generation of royals. It makes the staff more efficient, a lifetime of knowing what someone wants makes you better for them. It also creates some level of connection, making betrayal a little less likely. Nikolai and I might have taken it farther than most. But now I want a reminder of the way we’re supposed to be--maybe if I detach now the bleeding of my heart won’t kill me. That has to remain secret, because if I explain it to Nikolai something in me will break. The one line between us will be crossed.

This will be the sixth secret I’ve kept from Nikolai in my entire life.

The secrets:

I don’t know why I was picked for Nikolai. I wasn’t particularly skilled, but still, the day came when my mother was told that I now worked directly for the Lantsov boy. It’s an honor, a true one, but my mother had been a little nervous. To whom much is given, much is expected--and I detested Nikolai. Not for being a prince, but for being a prince who thought girls couldn’t race or fight.

The day my mother came looking for me because I never showed up for dinner and she found Nikolai and I attempting to fight in the way only a ten-year-old girl and eleven-year-old boy would, she had looked truly mortified. Nikolai had only laughed, either oblivious to my mother’s embarrassment or uncaring about it. He had then hugged me--an expression of care that had left me reeling. I saw him more as a rival than someone to tend to, but in that moment I saw him as a friend. Even more so when he told me he didn’t want me to go yet and that he was upset that so much of the day had been wasted by studies that kept him with boring people and away from me. And then he invited me to his lessons--my mother was quick to attempt to decline politely, but the desires of a prince at any age outweigh that of a mother.

After that, everyone kind of just stopped trying to remind us of our propriety. The tutor at first was concerned about my presence, but Nikolai remained stubborn. I wasn’t a big enough deal to cause an argument, so I began to attend lessons with him almost every day, only staying away when my mother needed aid with laundry or cleaning. His parents must have been somewhat aware of our friendship, but they must have been oblivious to our closeness because it was never mentioned.

My mother’s worry began to ease, she’d even started to take some pride when I’d come to our room proudly proclaiming that I scored two marks higher than Nikolai. She did, however, warn that it might be more tactful to let him score higher.

The comment was casual, just a suggestion, but it left me feeling wrong. It was the first time since we met that I had thought about our different statuses. I didn’t tell him--and that was the first secret I ever kept from him.

As we grew, we traded physical competition for academic rivalry, trying to best each other in both lessons and games of strategy like chess and cards. But with growing comes responsibility. Nikolai started to have obligations that were meant to be private. I couldn’t follow him at all times. But he’d always come back from locked door meetings grinning like he carried schoolyard gossip instead of government secrets. He shared everything with me, even when I playfully warned against it.

He’d always step closer when I teased that perhaps he shouldn’t tell me everything. And then he’d say, “If I can’t trust you, then I can’t trust anyone--and I don’t want to live in a world like that.” Often, he’d give my hand a light squeeze before moving on like he had not said anything intimate.

On a day in which Nikolai was in one of those meetings, I became a woman. When I first saw the blood, I had been horrified--but my mother was quick to explain that it was natural. She said that I was now a woman, a wonderful thing, really--but a thing that came with obligations. She told me that I could no longer have the impromptu ‘sleepovers’ with Nikolai unless he ordered it. I told her he’s never ordered me to do anything for him.

She didn’t ease, something in her had started to become nervous again. My mother had recently started to act the way she did when Nikolai and I first became friends. I didn’t want to fall asleep in Nikolai’s bed while I was bleeding, but I didn’t want to never have another sleepover with him again. Especially not when she refused to explain why being a woman changed so much.

I had decided to avoid Nikolai as much as possible until the sting of my mother’s new rule faded. Unfortunately, that night Nikolai was extra talkative--excited as he insisted I stay for a little longer. Soon, I found his familiar good naturedness melting away my nerves and before I knew it I was laughing in the middle of the night. When my eyelids started to feel heavy, I had moved from the chair, ready to head back to my room.

Nikolai had looked at me oddly before he asked why would I leave so late when it would be easier for me to just sleepover? It was an innocent question, he did not know about my change and I had wanted to keep it that way.

I tried playing coy, but Nikolai has always had a talent for getting around my better judgement. I don’t recall exactly how it happened, but I remember him standing in front of me. It was the first time I noticed how much had actually changed over the years--he was now taller than me for the first time in his life. His hair had started to grow a little longer, golden and soft-looking--and his face seemed much more angular. But he had not lost his boyish charm.

“Y/n?” My name fell softly from his lips, and that was the first time I had ever noted the fullness of them. I didn’t understand why I considered that something worth noting. “Did I do something to make you mad at me?”

Perhaps I had been a little curt--nerves and hormones had left me not feeling like myself. I didn’t tell him about the bleeding, I couldn’t. That became the second secret I kept from him--but I did tell him that my mother had told me I was a woman now, and that women can’t have sleepovers. Not with those of the opposite gender. I made no effort to hide my confusion because I expected him to be as perplexed as I was. But he was not confused--in fact, he had the audacity to laugh. My face flushed, but I did not know why.

“Why is that funny?” Maybe he thought I was still too much of a child to be considered a woman. I assumed it a fair assumption, I had not grown the way he had--my shoulders had not become sturdier and I had not become particularly broader. Still, I would rather melt into the floor than tell him about the reason my mother now considered me a woman. “My mother did say that, and I don’t know what being a ‘woman’ has to do with staying in your room at night.” Something strange had crossed over his features then, something much more brooding than I was used to.

I had blinked at him as unexplained nerves pooled in my stomach. Perhaps that look would have been enough to keep me silent if he had managed to not grin. That self-assured grin that had always challenged me. “Well since you know everything about my mother now, maybe you can tell me why she’s been acting strange. She’s starting to act the way she did when we first became friends.” I expected him to at least pretend to be worried. Perhaps his parents had spoken to her and had mentioned wanting our friendship to end. But his grin had only grown. Pride left me angry. “She did say that I could stay if you ordered it--but I’m glad you’ve never ordered me to do anything, so I can leave right now because you’re acting as odd as her. I don’t understand what you could find funny about our friendship ending.”

He had stopped me from storming out of his room by placing one hand on the wall between me and the door. “Y/n, don’t be cross--I’ll explain it all, I promise.” Angry pride made me want to storm away from him, but curiosity and something unknown and warm kept me in place. “Do you remember when we read the play about the rival families, how the two main characters had kissed?”

I remembered that part of the play especially well. The concept of kissing so casually, outside of marriage, had been jarring to me. “Yes.”

“Now that we’re older, your mother must be worried that we might do that.” He paused before leaning against the arm he placed on the wall to keep me from leaving a little more. “Kiss.”

The clarification was not needed--in that brief pause, I had allowed myself to imagine no distance between our lips. Something in me burned with embarrassment when I realized that some part of me found the thought appealing. The only thing I wanted in that moment was assurance that Nikolai would never know I felt that. That was my third secret, and the weight of it was heavy against my chest.

Still, though, all of my confusion had not yet left. “Is there much harm in a kiss?”

The question had left an odd smile on his lips. “There’s potential harm in what it could lead to for the woman, but not so much for the man.” He exhaled slowly as my face tensed. He could always read me too well because he was quick to add, “What it could lead to isn’t a bad thing, it’s meant to be pleasurable, but it’s serious.” I did not understand, but a part of me was starting to grow okay with that. Nikolai’s voice had started to become lower than ever, and his gaze remained tense. Perhaps if I accepted the confusion for now, things could go back to normal. If the conversation ended, I could stop thinking of his lips and his hands and what it would mean for them to touch me. “It’s considered a vice, like drinking or gambling.” The additional comment helped more than it should have. A vice--not scary and not painful, but not something to indulge in. That’s enough explanation for now. “If you want to know, I won’t deny you.”

I appreciated the offer tremendously. The vice that comes after kissing is clearly something that’s been intentionally kept from me. It’s something he was privy to that I was not, and he offered it to me like so much else. But if knowledge that my mother feared us kissing made me think of his lips, then I doubted I could handle knowing what comes after kissing.

“I’ll let you know when I want to know, but I appreciate the offer.” It felt like a fair response. His snarky grin came back immediately. Irritation rooted itself in my stomach. I hated not knowing more than him for once, but I still had one question I could not relinquish. “But what does that vice have to do with orders?”

At that, his smugness faltered. “It’s not unheard of, for princes and handmaids--for a prince to obligate a handmaid in order to fulfill his vice. Though many handmaids fill the vice of their own will for benefits.

The explanation left him like a confession. I didn’t understand his hesitance--it’s not like he’d ever make me do anything I didn’t want to do. Even when I worked, he was hesitant to ask me to go out of my way to bring him a glass of water. And I couldn’t imagine gaining anything from offering Nikolai something I didn’t really understand. I wasn’t naive to the fact that my life had more privileges than many palace servants. “Oh.”

His eyes hardened. “You know I’d never--”

“I know.” It was finally easy to smile again. “I never thought otherwise.” Something in him seemed to ease at that, his eyes went from hard to warm in less than a second.

I had no more questions for him and I was also no longer a flight risk, but Nikolai did not move. He did not step back to create a more appropriate distance and he did not drop his arm. His gaze, however, did move--dropping downwards, and slightly away from my eyes. I did the same, my eyes falling to his lips.

The silence between us began to make me feel like something in me was in danger of overflowing. “Then I guess my mother is once again worrying for no reason.” Strangely, I did not feel the need to feel embarrassed about staring at his lips. “Because I would never particularly want to kiss you, Nikolai Lantsov.”

The comment was meant to be teasing, a joke to clear away unknown tension. I should have known better than to challenge his pride because he instinctually moved his hand off the wall and beneath my chin. I did not flinch when he tilted my head upwards slightly with his fingers. “I could get you to want to kiss me if I wanted to.”

Three secrets in one night. I did not think I could bear a fourth one. “Hm…” The ground we treaded on felt unstable, but something in me trusted Nikolai to not let me falter. “I should--I should go before I give my mother anymore cause to worry.”

His fingers had brushed down my chin easily as he dropped his hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

And that he did. The days passed without mention of the last time he asked me to sleepover. It was as if nothing had changed except now I found myself noting things I most definitely did not want to note. These didn’t feel like individual secrets because it felt easy to group each admirational thought into one secret. Soon, that became my new normal--easy banter, easy touches of hands, and easy yet silent admirations of his beauty.

I never wandered too hard about what the vice that kissing can lead to entailed. I didn't particularly want to know, but knowing that I could ask Nikolai at any time brought a sense of security to me. But besides that, I never thought of that conversation until the day I was asked to look for Nikolai because he was late for dinner.

That in itself was odd, most of the time when Nikolai was late it was because he was with you. I checked his room, two other rooms he was known to frequent, and then finally the library. First, I noticed a handmaid two years older than me. I was finally at an age when one begins to compare their beauty to those around them, and I recognized the girl as gorgeous. She was better endowed than me, physically, and she always seemed fun. And then I noticed Nikolai, standing closer to her than I’ve ever seen him stand to anyone. His expression was serious as the girl giggled.

Nikolai’s expression shifted from tense to shocked when he saw me. “Y/n.”

It took me a moment longer than it should have to realize what I had interrupted. Guilt and jealousy were quick to twist in my stomach. “Dinner--your parents sent me to look for you.”

He was quick to walk around the girl, who was quick to glare at me. I attempted to disappear down the hall after mumbling a quick apology, but Nikolai was faster than me.

“Y/n,” he did not hesitate to grab my wrist.

It shouldn’t have irked me the way it did, after all, neither of us had ever really hesitated to touch each other. I had always reached for him when I wanted him, and he had done the same. But the thought of the same hands that touched the most beautiful girl I had ever seen on me left me bitter in a way I didn’t understand.

Still, I pushed through all of that. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt anything, your mother asked me to look for you because she assumed you’d be with me when you were late to dinner. I didn’t think that there’d be--”

“You didn’t interrupt anything.” The words came out flat as his eyes took on the same quality they did the night he explained my mother’s concern to me. “Valaria wishes there was something to interrupt, but there wasn’t.”

Oh. I refused to let the correction inflate me. “Would you like me to not come to your room tonight?”

The offer felt awkward to make. “No,” the answer came quickly, “In fact, go there now--I want to see you right after dinner. I’ve missed you today.” The instruction left my face feeling warm. “We could read an extra chapter of our book if you’d like.”

Despite myself, I grinned. “Yes.”

“Looking forward to it.”

True to his word, Nikolai was quick to return to his room. He had come back to me eagerly, going out of his way to squeeze my shoulder as he entered the room.

I opened the book to the chapter we had left off on, but before I could start reading, Nikolai stopped me. “Sit next to me?”

The question came softly. It had been some time since we sat next to each other on his bed. Still, I moved off of the chair and to his bed. Something in me longed for the familiar closeness of childhood. I allowed him to play with my fingers as I read.

“You know you could take one night off from me if you wanted to.” The admission left me softly, part of unsure if he was still paying attention to my words. “She was pretty, it wouldn’t have hurt my feelings if you told me you wanted me to not come tonight.”

Nikolai exhaled easily, squeezing my fingers once. “I said I wanted to see you and I meant it.”

It took all of my energy to push past the way his words made my stomach leap. “In general, if you ever--”

Nikolai cut me off by laying his head on my lap the way he used to. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” It was the first time in years that he spoke to me in a way that acknowledged his authority. “Keep reading please.”

And that was the last time we had ever mentioned other handmaids in that context. The fifth secret I ever kept from him was the way I worried that one day that would change.

The door creaks open while I’m in the middle of fluffing an already pristine pillow. Nikolai steps into the room, but I continue to work.

“Darling,” he breathes too easily, “Today has been painful.” I straighten, looking at him as casually as I can manage. “And now I have to deal with you being mad at me.”

Damn him and his ability to read me with one look. “I’m not mad.”

“You know you can’t lie to me,” he sighs, stepping forward, “We’ve known each other too long for that.”

I press my lips together, irrational anger pushing itself into me at an odd angle. “We’ve also known each other too long to keep secrets.”

His eyebrows draw together, a look so quizzical I’m reminded of our schooling days. “What secrets have I kept from you?”

Mentioning that had been a mistake. I exhale as flatly as possible. “I shouldn’t have mentioned it.” My dismissal only has Nikolai’s expression hardening. I drop my gaze. “Unless you need something, I’m retiring my services for the evening.”

I take a reluctant step towards the door, eyes attached to the floor. “Y/n,” his voice is gentle. “What is it?”

“It’s nothing, I’m just tired.” Please let that be at least somewhat believable. “I’m sure I’ll feel more like myself in the morning.” I take another step, a little more assured. Nikolai’s hand is on my shoulder before I can escape. “Nikolai--”

“Y/n,” his voice is that of velvet, “I can’t have you be mad at me. Not now.”

Sighing, I meet his gaze. The tiredness I see behind his eyes is almost enough to chase away my nerve. What I’d give to be able to melt into our familiar routine. “Then you should have told me you were almost engaged to a literal Saint--the same literal Saint who’s one of my closest friends.”

Nikolai’s expression shifts as his hand drops from my shoulder slowly, fingers brushing down my arm before he finally intertwines our fingers. I bite my tongue to avoid squeezing his hand, but I don’t move to separate us either. He studies me silently, eyebrows drawn together. The longer he stares, the more whatever turmoil he’s experiencing seems to dissipate. After a minute of silence, I can read his expression perfectly. His lips are pressed together in that coy way--the way he only looks when he’s suppressing a smile.

I loathe him for it. “Nikolai Lantsov, don’t you dare laugh--not after what you did. Do you have any idea what it felt like to have Alina casually mention the fact that you almost married her casually? Like that was common knowledge to everyone but me?”

My words break away the last of his self control. He grins, flashing his annoyingly perfect teeth. “Do you have any idea what it feels like for me to want nothing more than to see you and then you let me believe something may actually be wrong when the only issue is your jealousy?”

The amusement in his tone is like poison to me. I find the strength to jerk my hand away from him. “I am not jealous.” He laughs; I am further enraged. “I am not.” The genuineness of my anger must finally register on some level, because he tries to suppress his smile. “I have every right to be mad at my best friend for not telling me that he was almost married.”

“We didn’t exactly come close,” he manages, expression still much too light for my taste. “I’m glad for Alina’s sake, I’m not sure being a Saint would be enough to protect her.”

He is infuriating. “I’m not sure anything you have will be enough to protect you.”

Something in his gaze shifts, softening the tilt of his mouth. “I don’t doubt that.”

I don’t know what I expected from him--but not this. I thought he’d be at least somewhat apologetic. “You should have told me.”

“I would have if I felt it was significant.”

“I’m your best friend--your marriage is significant to me. And even though it’s not like you’re engaged to her right now, you should have told me. You know I talk to Alina all the time.”

He sighs once, a hint of apology threatening to ghost over his eyes. “If I knew not knowing would have upset you so much I would have told you. I was--I was just so excited to be around you again I didn’t see much relevance in anything that didn’t involve you.”

The intensity that Nikolai regards me with is enough to wither all of my fury. But without my anger, I am left spiraling in emotion that I’ve been pushing against for years. My mother’s warning about relationships with those above us rings in my ears--sharp and headache inducing. I am still when he reaches for my hand again, but I do no allow myself to return the gentle squeeze of his fingers.

“I’m not sure much outside of you has significance.” He’s giving me a look I am familiar with. A look he often uses to chase away my anger.

Without my anger, I have nothing to keep me from melting into him, indulging in his presence fully. It’s so easy with him and I blinded myself to the danger of that. He may not be marrying Alina, but one day he will marry someone. A person worthy of his status--and what would I be left doing? Washing their laundry? Tearing up when I dusted the library and came across a book we had read together? Enough damage has already been done--I need to cut myself with this blade now in hopes of making sure I can one day recover.

He will get married one day, and nothing will be the same. And that’s a good thing--he deserves the love of a princess or queen. I want his happiness, even if it’s not with me. But some vindictive part of me hopes that some part of him will miss me. That some part of him will be dulled without me.

I’m a fool--he will remember me as the handmaid from his youth. The girl who made him laugh once or twice before he grew up. I force my hand out of his grasp. “You can’t win me over with words every time.” I need to get out of here before he says something that makes me lose all resolve. “Tomorrow morning I’ll be here to prepare you for breakfast.”

“Y/n.”

I step forward, refusing to look at him. “Goodnight.”

He sighs, his hand quick to grab my arm. Before I can question him I feel myself pulled back. I expect him to pull me just close enough so that I have to meet his gaze. He continues, pulling me sharply before placing a quick hand on my shoulder, forcing me down. My back hits his bed.

I sit up as soon as the reality of what just happened seeps into my mind. “Nikolai, what in the Saints--”

“If you’re going to act like a child, I’m going to treat you like one.”

I scoff, thoughts of escaping him put on hold by the principle of pride. Fine. I’ll beat him one last time, and then I’ll let us separate. I shove him. He laughs--of course this is funny to him. He got to keep fighting past the age of about eleven. His laughter adds to my anger, I move to shove him again, but he catches my wrist easily. I struggle against his hold, shoving him a third time with my still free hand. He pushes me slightly. That’s all it takes to unleash familiar habits.

Our small fight is hardly fair. He has all the advantage--more training, and he’s standing above me. When I finally make a move that might give me some success, Nikolai leans forward. He practically tackles me, his weight forcing me flat against the bed.

I move an arm, ready to push him off of me. Nikolai snags my wrists, holding them above my head. “This means I win.” I roll my eyes, anger returning.

“Let me go.”

He sighs tiredly, but the smugness radiating off of him is suffocating. “Admit that you were jealous.”

There are a lot of things I am willing to do for him--but never that. I cannot give him the one separation I still have. “I wasn’t.”

“Then why are you mad?”

I press my lips together. “I told you--”

“Do you really think you could lie to me?”

“You don’t know me that well.”

Nikolai moves his freehand, touching my chin as a way to ask me to look at him. I meet his gaze hesitantly. “Yes, I do, and that’s never bothered you before but it does now.”

Maybe this is a conversation better had bluntly. “It bothers me now because you’re too old to hold onto the daughter of a palace handmaid and I’m too old to pretend that our different statuses don’t matter.”

“Y/n,” he breathes, “Nothing’s changed. Status didn’t matter to me when we were children, and it doesn’t matter to me now.”

“You can afford to say things like that.”

“What good is my title if it means I can’t,” he pauses, eyes hesitant, “If I can’t keep things the same between us?”

I smile, the sadness of the look weighs on me and I can’t even see it. “Nikolai, you always knew things would change.”

“No, I--”

“You can’t tell me you think your future wife would like you having such a close relationship with a handmaid.” I press my lips together. “One day you’ll fall in love and get married and you’ll want me to leave your bedchamber as soon as dinner is over because you’ll be eager to spend time with your wife.” His gaze hardens. “And that’s not a bad thing. It’s actually a really good thi--”

The last syllable of my sentence dies in my throat. Nikolai, who must be possessed by something, leans down and presses his lips against mine. I beg myself to resist, but his gentleness is everything I’ve ever wanted. He releases my hands in favor of holding my face. That’s all it takes--my hands move without my permission, into his hair--pulling him closer to me. What am I doing? I’m insane. Placing my hands on his chest cautiously, I push just slightly. He’s quick to obey, pulling away while allowing his teeth to brush against my bottom lip.

I gape at him--taking in his now slightly swollen lips. “Nikolai.” He can’t do this to me. We’re friends. Despite the fact that I’ve loved him more than I should--we’re friends. “You’re being extremely unfair.”

He draws his eyebrows together, sitting up quickly and moving off of me. “I’m being unfair? I have spent my entire life loving y--”

I sit up, furious in a new way. “You have not!” This is the dumbest I have ever been. I move to stand, still feeling the softness of his lips against mine.

“Your tooth fell out.” The sharpness of his words forces me to still.

“What?”

I can’t bring myself to turn and look at him, but I’ve always been able to feel any heaviness he bears. The weight of it leaves little room for air in my lungs. “You were ten. I told you ‘girls couldn’t fight’ so you punched me in the face. That was the first time we ever fought--I didn’t mean to hit you in the face, but you moved. You moved and I hit you in the mouth and your last baby tooth fell out. I expected you to cry or get angry, but you just blinked at me and laughed. You were happy to lose your last baby tooth because it meant you were grown up. And then you smiled and asked me if you looked older. If anything, the gap in your smile made you look younger but I told you that you looked like a grown-up because I wanted you to keep smiling. Because your smile made me feel like I won something.” I turn on my heels, but I cannot meet his gaze. “That was the moment I fell in love with you--so don’t tell me I haven’t spent my entire life loving you.”

The weight of his words is harder to survive against than the heaviness of his feelings. “Nikolai, you know we can’t ever be together--”

“Why not?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know,” I manage, voice low, “You almost married the Sun Summoner--”

“That was political--”

“Exactly, your marriage is meant to be political, and if it happens to be out of love--which is what I hope you get, because it is what you deserve--it will be to someone of status.”

Nikolai stands, the movement is that of a king, not the boy I know. “I do not want status or to love someone else--I want you.”

“I can’t take that from you--”

“You can’t take anything from me because I’ve already given it all to you.”

I press my lips together, heart tearing for him. “I love you too much to ruin you.”

My words seem to snap something in him because his eyes darken, the way he watches me adjusting accordingly. “You can’t ruin something that’s always been yours.”

I let myself smile. At him. At his words. At the foolish hope the child in me has clung to after all of these years. I reach for him thoughtlessly, because I have the right to. Because I’ve always had the right to. He’s quick to respond, kissing me with much more security than before.

This time, he pulls away of his own regard. “You still haven’t admitted that you were jealous.”

His teasing smugness isn’t as sour to me anymore. “I wasn’t.”

Nikolai pulls me towards him easily, lips threatening to brush against me, warm breath against my face. “Are you sure, darling? You were awfully quick to claim what’s yours.”

I roll my eyes, grinning so widely I’m surprised my face doesn’t yet hurt. “You’re the one that fell for a ten-year-old girl with a bloody mouth.”

When he smiles back at me, he places a hand on my hip, pulling me forward slightly. “That I did.” He pulls me forward slightly. "Does this mean you can sleep in here again?"

"If anything, this is more reason for me to sleep in another room." He rolls his eyes, pulling me even closer. "But I won't tell if you don't."

Nikolai leans forward, pressing his lips to my forehead. "Deal."

tags: @deardiarystuff @theincredibledeadlyviper, @grishaverse7 @benbarnes-supremacy @tranquilitymoon @kaitlyn2907 @lunamyangel @christinawxxx @deceivedeer @real-mbappe @tonks33

#nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov x you #shadow and bone #shadow and bone fic #shadow and bone fanfic #shadow and bone imagine #grisha #Grishaverse #grishaverse imagines #grishaverse imagine #grishaverse x reader #shadow and bone netflix

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devildomimagines · 3 years

Note

I live to make these bois into whores 😎

Can I get head cannons of the boys meeting MC’s family; the catch is, MC is attractive as hell and so is their family? Literally everyone is hot. Their Dad is a whole dilf, their Mom is a milf, their older brother and sister are both sexy as hell, and MC’s just casually introducing them to the demon boys who could barely handle being around them.

They have a storm coming hehe 🤭

Sorry for the long wait but what else is new on my blog ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

The older brothers are under the cut because this ended up longer than I first planned. I hope you enjoy~

Belphegor

It might take some bribing to get him to promise to be awake for the whole day but he gave in because it was important to you that he meet your family.

As you two approached the house, your mom was out in the front yard gardening.

When she turned around and caught the sight of you two she beamed a bright smile and waved.

You giggled as you waved back and looked at Belphie to see if he was waving too.

He was waving like a robot.

You have to elbow him to make him focus again.

He blushed as he admitted, “Your mom is really pretty.”

“I know,” you looked proud of the fact.

Your mom had called to the rest of the family and soon they were all outside to greet you.

You started greeting and hugging everyone.

Your dad clapped Belphie on the back and you caught his blush as he watched your dad head back towards you.

He mouthed the words, “Him too?” and you nodded.

Your brother and sister wasted no time in teasing you about bringing someone home.

Your brother tousled Belphie’s hair and your sister draped herself off you as she assessed Belphie.

“He’s cute,” she finally decided, “Be careful or I’ll steal him away,” then stuck her tongue out at you as she went inside.

You responded with your own tongue out at her retreating form.

Belphie fixed his hair and straightened his clothes, “You didn’t say your whole family was so handsome?”

“I thought it would be obvious, where do you think I got it?” You teased as you grabbed his hand and pulled him inside.

Beelzebub

You had thought maybe he wouldn’t fall victim to your family’s charm. You were wrong.

When the two of you entered the house, your mom greeted you two with a hug.

Beel blushed at the contact but recovered quickly. That is until your dad came up and patted him on the chest, “What a solid guy you caught, MC.”

You rolled your eyes but you caught Beel’s eye sparkle at the compliment.

Your sister introduced herself to Beel and he shook her hand before she pounced on him. He caught her in surprise.

“Ok, that’s enough, get off him!” You pulled your sister away with a huff.

She made a face at you before retreating.

Your brother was sizing Beel up from across the room.

“Are you gonna say hello bro?” You asked.

“How much can you bench?” Your brother stood up.

Beel wasn’t prepared for the question, “Uh…”

“Probably a lot by the look of it,” Your brother supplied.

Beel looked at you for help. Leave it to your brother to make a demon uncomfortable. “Can you cool it and get out of his face? Dinner’s almost ready.”

“Hm,” then a wicked smile flashed on your brother’s face, “Arm wrestle for the loser’s dessert?”

Oh no.

Beel’s smile reflected your brother’s, “You’re on.”

You pulled on Beel’s sweater as he was rolling up the sleeve. “Wait, go easy on him please, actually maybe let him win? With your strength you could break his arm.”

“But MC, the dessert,” Beel looked determined.

“I’ll give you mine,” he looked like he was debating it but the enticing offer of two desserts was winning out. “And… I’ll do that thing you like.”

That was clearly the winner. Beel sat down across from your brother and gave you a quick thumbs up before putting up a compelling fight if you didn’t already know he was going to throw it.

Dinner went off without a hitch. Beel complimented the hell out of your parent’s cooking and they complimented his appetite. As he ate your dessert, he whispered to you, “Don’t forget about your promise.”

The thing Beel likes is when you two go to the gym together, don’t get it twisted!

Asmodeus

“Oh?” Asmo smiled, “This is gonna be fun!”

He immediately starts towards your mom, “Hello! You must be MC’s sister?”

She laughs at the compliment, “No honey, I’m their mother.”

Asmo lays on the charisma in his shock, “No way! I could have sworn,” he looks back at you and you roll your eyes, what did you expect?

Asmo offers his arm and your mom takes it with a smile. The pair of them walk towards the house chatting about something that you couldn’t hear.

He was a tricky demon but you laughed it off as you walked after them.

You bumped into Asmo as you entered and you caught his surprised face. He then smiled to himself as he found a spot on the sofa, he clearly felt at home.

Loud enough for everyone to hear, even those in the kitchen he commented, “MC, you didn’t tell me your family was so attractive.”

Your brother and sister snickered at your embarrassment as you sat next to Asmo.

“Because,” you lowered your voice just for him, “I knew you’d act like this.”

“Like what?”

“Can we just have a normal dinner?” You asked, taking his hand.

“Of course MC,” he squeezed your hand, “but I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

It figures. Asmo just gets like this when he’s surrounded by others that he both appreciates their features but finds them to be competition. If he can get them to like him, then he’s ‘won.’

He effectively keeps your family enchanted the whole night, he really does shine in social situations.

Satan

Interesting is the word of the night.

You had shown him pictures of your family as he was ‘studying’ for the night. He wanted to make sure he didn’t call someone by the wrong name, pronoun, or bring up a story you had told him in confidence.

The pictures did not do your family justice. They were gorgeous.

He immediately fell into his gentleman image. Satan took your mom’s hand and kissed the back of it.

She giggled but you shook your head, “That’s a bit much,” you commented.

“I don’t think so?” Satan tilted his head towards you.

“What about me?” Your dad snickered as he extended his hand.

“Dad~” You whined but Satan didn't skip a beat by taking his hand and kissing the back of it.

You dad chuckled heartily as he wrapped an arm around Satan, “Son, I like your style.”

Satan was starstruck and easily led further into the house by your dad.

You groaned, you clearly had not prepared Satan for how bewitching your parents could be.

Your sister and brother sandwiched you in the middle as they laughed. “Another one falls victim huh?”

The running joke being that the two of them had plenty of partners defeated by the magnetism your parents had. The partners often choosing the charming company of your parents and not the child they were dating when they visited.

You sighed and hung your head, you figured it’d play out like this but it was disheartening. That is until your thoughts were interrupted by a throat clearing.

You looked up and smiled at seeing Satan’s emerald eyes on you, silently asking if everything was ok.

You nodded and wiggled out from between your siblings to stand next to him as you formally introduced them.

You gave Satan’s waist a squeeze, happy he found his way back to you.

He smiled back at you softly, that is until your mom called out for him. He then blushed deeply as you let him get back to the kitchen.

“Good luck!” You called after him with a giggle. Your parents were incorrigible.

Leviathan

It took a lot for Levi to agree to meeting your family.

He was a nervous wreck, already sweating and you hadn’t even opened the front door.

“Hey,” you took his face in your hands, “You’re going to be ok, they’re going to love you and I’ll be with you for every second.”

Levi exhaled and relaxed into your hands. He nodded and finally smiled.

Then the door opened and he was tense again.

You shift your hands from his face to holding one of his hands.

“Oh I’m sorry!” Your mom said, “Was I interrupting?”

“No,” you confirmed before she could make a big deal.

“Well, welcome!” She threw her arms around Levi.

He squeezed your hand but said, “Thanks for having me.”

“Of course,” Your mom took his other hand and pulled him inside, “If you’re important to MC then you’re important to us!”

The three of you entered the living room and everyone got up to offer their greetings to you and Levi.

He never let your hand go.

When you got through everyone, Levi was a blushing mess.

He held you back as everyone made their way to the dining room. “I can’t do this, MC!” He whisper-yelled at you, “You didn’t say they were all so hot?! I can barely stand just you, but...” Levi looked at the dining room, “it’s like you times five now!”

You had to giggle and he gave you a pout. “Levi, we just got here. Dinner will be a breeze. Dad will probably tell stories of when me and my siblings were little, something about him in college and my mom will ask you-”

“She’s going to talk to me??”

“Well yes but she’ll only ask about your interests and hobbies. She loves anime BTW. It’ll be a sitch for you! I’m not worried at all.” You gave him a smile and you could see the gears turning.

He could talk about anime, that is manageable… “But won’t the others think I’m lame?”

“Nonsense! If you haven’t realized we’re a pretty accepting family, what other family would agree to send their child to hell for a year?”

Levi nodded, this is true. He took a brave breath and pulled you to the dining room.

Mammon

He’s overconfident in his ability to woo your family, which means he’s nervous.

It’s cute that he wants them to like him but it’s not as serious as he’s making it out to be.

You knew they would love him, they love everyone.

“Oy, this is it?” He shielded his eyes from the sun as he looked up at your house.

“Yep,” you took his hand and led him around to the side door.

“Wait, shouldn’t we use the front door?”

“We’re not guests, I lived here.”

“But I’m…”

The two of you entered the kitchen and your mom looked over her shoulder as she was pulling a large pot out of the oven, “You’re here!”

Mammon straightened up and took a step forward, “Let me help you with that, it looks heavy.” He grabbed the towel hanging from the oven handle and effortlessly carried the dish to the pot holder on the table.

“What a gentleman,” your mom snickered as she hugged you hello.

Mammon blushed and looked away but hugged your mom when she made her way towards him as hello.

“Who’s that holding my wife?” Your dad boomed.

Mammon backed off immediately as he came eye to eye with your father, “S-sir.”

With a smile your dad embraced Mammon, “I’m kidding, we’re all huggers here, better get used to it!”

Mammon blushed again in your dad’s grasp and you laughed. He shot you a look before smiling at your dad letting him go.

You shuffled up next to Mamms as he sighed, “Tired already? I know they can be a lot.”

“W-what are you talking about? I’m fine!”

“Good! Because my siblings are even worse!” As if on cue, the pair entered the room sizing up Mammon.

Your brother smiled, “I like him. He looks like he can get in some trouble.” If only he knew, but Mammon relaxed with the assessment.

“He’s pretty attractive,” Your sister said but her tone was skeptical.

“He models part time,” you offered, proud that you were making her somewhat jealous.

“Too bad he couldn’t cut it full time,” she dismissed. She moved in close to Mammon as if she was going to whisper in his ear but said loud enough for you, “If you ever want the better sibling, call me.”

His eyebrows shot up, Mammon was not expecting that.

You pushed your sister out of his space, “Go suck an egg!”

Your sister retreated with a vicious smile.

When you looked at Mammon, he was frozen in his shock. “God, she got you with just that?” You groaned, “This is gonna be a long night.”

“N-no!” Mammon was recovering, “I wouldn’t call her! You know that, right?”

“I know,” you sighed, “She’s just like that. I swear her and Asmo would have a day trying to one-up each other.”

“This is gonna be a long dinner huh?” Mammon was finally realizing it for himself.

You took his hand, “Yeah, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be!” He squeezed your hand and smiled, “The Great Mammon can handle anything!”

Lucifer

“Hm?” He would hum as you two walked up to your childhood home. “Who’s that?”

Your dad was outside mowing the lawn. He turned the mower to start a line towards you two but stopped when he recognized you.

“That’s my dad!” You ran over to hug him.

Lucifer watched as he wiped the sweat from his brow with a cloth in his pocket before catching you in an embrace.

Lucifer steeled himself and made his way over to join the conversation.

“You must be the man of the hour! Wonderful to meet you finally, after all MC has said about you!” Your dad had extended an arm to shake hands, “I’d usually hug you but I’m a sweaty mess. Come on inside, everyone is waiting!” He led you two to the front door and announced your arrival as he excused himself for a shower before dinner.

The rest of the family entered, your mom, brother and sister, each dazzling in Lucifer’s eyes.

He was used to beautiful people; angels have their allure, demons their temptations but humans had always seemed somewhat average until he met you and now your family.

Lucifer subconsciously fixed his shirt and then ran a hand through his hair. Then he caught your gaze.

“You look fine,” you whispered as you sidled up next to him.

“I see where you get your captivating looks from, I believe the celestial lineage is from your paternal side,” Lucifer gave your returned father a long glance. “He cleans up well.”

“You’re not too bad yourself, Mr. Morningstar,” you teased as you took his hand and led him to the table.

“This will be an interesting dinner,” he murmured as he took a seat next to you and then gulped as your dad took a seat next to him with a brilliant smile.

Is Lucifer nervous? Not that he would ever admit it, but who gave this human the right to be so handsome? With a hand on his chest, Lucifer clears his throat to regain composure.

#obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #my writing #obey me headcanons #just a little bit of crack though because i thought this prompt was funny #lol someone come collect these flustered demons

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vrishchikawrites · 3 years

Note

Some Nie Huaisang and Wei Wuxian friendship please?

Like wwx was the first person to understand that Nie Huaisang was a "useless" young master only on purpose.

You can choose if :

Post cannon?

Cannon divergence?

Cannon divergence: where he's a better friend so he makes him joint he Nie clan? Or something? who knows?

You can also choose if Lan Wangji and Nie Huaisang are friends.

(Imagine NHS-WWX-LWJ are buddies since cloud recesses days and go forth, lol. Canon divergence from the point of JC denouncing WWX)

“Listen to me for once!”

Nie Huaisang didn't mean to shout, not really. It is never a good idea to shout at his da-ge because it only provokes anger in return. But Wei-xiong is in danger and no one is helping. Nie Huaisang may be a useless cultivator in many people’s eyes but he refuses to be a useless friend.

The desperation in his stone catches da-ge’s attention and his older brother looks at him with a severe frown, “That boy is cultivating the ghostly path, Huaisang! Even his sect leader distrusts him!”

“Exactly! Da-ge, I’m not stupid, no matter how much you like to believe I am-”

“I don’t!”

Huaisang ignores him, “I know Wei-xiong. He may be mischievous but he’s not evil. If you don’t believe me, ask Lan Wangji! You can trust his word, yes? If you can’t trust your own brother’s.”

“Watch your tone,” Nie Mingjue growls, “You have earned every bit of my suspicion, Huaisang. Don’t pretend otherwise.” Huaisang winces, “I’m not dismissing your concerns but I need more than just your instincts to intervene. Do you have anything more than ‘i know him, da-ge’?” His brother asks and arches a brow.

Huaisang takes a deep breath and collects his thoughts. Hundreds of little observations, pieces of a puzzle too scattered, swirl around in his mind. He has held these pieces close to this heart for years, knowing that it would’ve been disastrous to reveal them during the war. But Nie Huiasang can no longer afford to be silent. Every time he hears someone spitting out his best friend’s name like a curse, something in him burns.

Wei Wuxian is so genuinely good-natured, he will accept everyone as they are. Wei Wuxian is always willing to step between an enemy and a friend, ready to take the blow of them.

There are few people in cultivation as honorable and compassionate as Wei-xiong and Nie Huaisang doesn’t want to see that light diminish.

Da-ge is silent, as though sensing Huaisang’s turmoil.

He straightens and tucks his fan away, meeting his older brother’s gaze head-on, without hesitation. That is enough for da-ge to frown and gesture towards an empty seat. Huaisang quickly goes about making tea as he speaks, “Please be patient with me, da-ge,” He begs, “Let me explain the full picture so you can see what I see. All of this may seem like speculation, but I have proof, circumstantial, but proof nonetheless.”

Nie Mingjue’s expression is now serious and placid, like he’s fully willing to listen to what his brother has to say.

“You… you don’t know, Wei-xiong. He cherished his cultivation, da-ge,” He explains, “It is no accident or act of fate that he was so good at it - good enough to even challenge Lan Wangji. He did the work to get there; he was brilliant but he was also incredibly hardworking. His cultivation was the result of years of refinement. Suibian was his constant companion and he wielded it like it was his soul.”

His brother is still because he’s not stupid.

“Is it not strange that we hear rumors of Wei Wuxian being captured by Wen Chao- by Wen Zhuliu - and see him return with a new cultivation that doesn’t require a Golden Core?”

His da-ge is definitely paying attention now.

“But is it not stranger that the Wens claim they had taken Jiang Wanyin’s core, only for Jiang-zongzhu to come back stronger? His cultivation is so refined and powerful, he is now a force to be reckoned with. Is it not strange, da-ge, that a man that couldn’t push his core even after years of diligent training managed to strengthen so significantly in a matter of months?”

“What are you saying, Huaisang?”

“I’m saying that Wei Wuxian doesn’t have a Golden Core. He hasn’t had it for the entire duration of the war. He lost it during or before those three months he was missing. I’m saying those rumors about him being tossed into the Burial Mounds are likely to be true. I’m saying that Wei-xiong is exactly the kind of person who would use word games to make people believe otherwise. He’s also the kind of person who would do everything in his power to protect his martial siblings.”

Nie Mingue looks stunned, “He walked into war without his Golden Core?”

“I am absolutely certain he did.”

Nie Mingjue stares at his brother, “But you… don’t believe Wen Zhuliu took his core.”

Huaisang hesitates, “This is where I hesitate, da-ge. My instincts tell me it's not that simple. I have known both Wei-xiong and Jiang-zongzhu for a long time. We lived in close quarters and I may not be a good cultivator, but that doesn’t mean I miss small details. Jiang Wanyin feels just as powerful as Wei-xiong did, back then.”

“And you believe that’s impossible?” Da-ge arches a skeptical brow, “You, by your own admission, don’t like him.”

“Wen Qing nearly published a paper on Golden Core transfer. Wen Ning rescued Jiang Wanyin from Wen Chao’s grasp.” He takes a deep breath, “Wei Wuxian just gave up everything to repay a debt that Jiang Wanyin admitted he owed.” Nie Huaisang doesn’t know everything, but he has had years to figure out enough.

Suddenly, all the skepticism leaves his older brother’s face.

“Let’s speak with Lan Wangji.”

---

Wangji-xiong takes it like a blow to his chest.

Huaisang sees him flinch and he sees Xichen-ge step forward in concern, “Wangji...” Xichen-ge looks like he doesn’t know what to say and how to reassure his brother.

Huaisang may consider Wei Wuxian his best friend, but he firmly believes that no one cares for him more than Lan Wangji.

The Hanguang-jun believes him. That's clear from his expression.

Wangji-xiong has likely been aware of those scattered puzzle pieces as well. He just hadn’t put them together until now.

“This is all speculation,” Xichen-ge tries to interject, “There may not be any need to worry, Wangji.”

“Wei Ying’s heart hasn’t changed.”

Xichen-ge stills and Huaisang watches as icy resolve settles on Wangji-xiong’s face, “I’ll bring him.”

“Wangji-”

“Wangji begs your pardon, xiongzhang,” The Hanguang-jun turns around and walks swiftly towards the door. He offers no other word or explanation.

“Huaisang,” Xichen-ge’s voice is displeased, “You should have come to me with this first. Wangji is… attached to Wei-gongzi.”

Surprisingly, it is da-ge who intervenes.

“If you can give Meng Yao the benefit of the doubt, you can extend the same courtesy to Huaisang and Wangji’s friend, Xichen.” Nie Mingjue is scowling, “We have more reason to fault his character than Wei-gongzi’s.”

It is probably the harshest thing da-ge has ever said to Xichen-ge and it shows. The First Jade visibly calms himself and nods graciously, but there’s a glint of displeasure in his eyes. Jin Guangyao has been a bone of contention between da-ge and Xichen-ge for several months now. Huaisang should probably look into the matter a little more but Wei-xiong’s situation demands all of his attention.

Now that Jiang Wanyin announced Wei Wuxian’s defection to the entire cultivation world, he’s a free agent with a powerful ability and an even more powerful tool. With the Jins and their successful rumor-mongering, Huaisang fears they don’t have much time. Jin Guangshan has already driven a wedge between Jiang Wanyin and Wei Wuxian. How much more can they accomplish if Huaisang doesn’t intervene somehow?

---

Wangji-xiong doesn’t return with Wei Wuxian. He brings Wen Qing and wears an expression of outright fury on his usually stoic face.

“I transferred his Golden Core into Jiang Wanyin.” Wen Qing declares with a straight back and a steady glare. She looks right into da-ge’s eyes, “I helped Jiang Wanyin recover from his captivity and then agreed to perform the procedure.”

Huaisang sits down as his worst fear is confirmed.

He had hoped… he had desperately hoped he had been wrong but as Wen Qing goes on to describe everything, explaining how the procedure worked and what Wei-xiong had to endure for his martial brother’s sake, he becomes certain she is telling the truth.

And this is exactly what Wei Wuxian would do. It would be too far-fetched and outrageous for anyone else, but Wei-xiong- his capacity for self-sacrifice has always worried Huaisang and Lan Wangji.

“Where is he?” Nie Mingjue demands, “Did you leave him in the Burial Grounds? In his state?”

“Wei Ying refuses to come,” Lan Wangji says, his expression pale and tight, “He must keep the resentful spirits at bay and protect the Wens. There’s a child among them, barely two years old.”

Xichen-ge sucks in a breath, closing his eyes in dismay.

“He’s injured.” Wangji-xiong continues, “He was gutted by Jiang Wanyin in a staged fight.” Huaisang looks up sharply, “He hasn’t healed and yet persists to place himself at risk.”

“Wangji, we will help him,” Xichen-ge assures, “I apologize for not understanding the situation, but now we know and we will help him.”

“So they fought to spare the Jiang Sect,” Huaisang speculates with a frown, “But… why not just tell us? Surely Jiang-zongzhu knows he just had to mention his debt to you, Wen-guniang.”

“We have misunderstood Jiang Wanyin’s character greatly.” That is a big condemnation coming from the Hanguang-jun himself. Huaisang is certain that Wangji-xiong isn’t inclined to be charitable now. Jiang Wanyin did hurt Wei Wuxian seriously, after all.

“He won’t move until we do something to help the Wens.” Huaisang concludes, opening his fan in a snap and waving it furiously, “Because he’s just that stubborn. If he owes Wen-guniang and Wen-gongzi a debt, nothing is going to move him, not even Wangji-xiong.”

“I have never been able to move him.” Lan Wangji says icily and it seems like they’re feeding off each other’s ire.

Really, Wei-xiong is so frustrating to deal with sometimes. He doesn’t know how Lan Wangji handles being in love with him, Huaisang already feels nauseous. Wei Wuxian is in such a precarious position now that if they don’t act fast, he would…

He would likely be imprisoned or killed.

“Let’s offer the Wens some protection then.” Nie Huaisang says.

“Huaisang,” Da-ge warns, “It’s not that simple.”

“Why not?” He demands, turning towards his brother and Lan Xichen, “Will the Jins retaliate? If both Lans and Nies stand together on the matter, what will they do? The Wens don’t need to be free, they need to be safe and healthy. We can keep them contained in a small farming village, forbid cultivation and absorb any children into one of our clans. Let’s take Wei-xiong into the Nie clan and let the Wens settle in the northern reaches. The area is fairly remote and life will be hard but safe, better than the Burial Mounds at any rate!”

He doesn’t know what kind of expression he has on his face but da-ge looks faintly amused, “You’ll take on the Jins?”

“If I have to!”

“He means that much to you?”

Huaisang swallows and thinks of days spent in merriment and comfort. Of a friendly arm tossed around his shoulder and a laughing voice dragging him into all sorts of mischief. He thinks of warm silver eyes that never looked down at him and nods, “Yes, he does.”

Wei-xiong has always helped him and treated him with respect. It is time for him to return the favor.

---

It is a near miracle that everything works out as planned. Well, almost everything. No one is pleased when the Lans and Nies band together to take over the Wen remnants. Fortunately, the Jiangs don’t have any room to object. Da-ge doesn't hesitate to reveal that Jiang Wanyin owes Wen Ning his life. Jiang Wanyin's honor is called into question but he suffers no other consequence for his dishonesty. Nie Huaisang doesn’t care but he notices how it guts Wei-xiong.

Apparently, when Wei-xiong and Jiang Wanyin agreed to part ways, Jiang-zongzhu only needed to say Wei Wuxian had left the Jiangs. There was no need to outright state that his sect brother had betrayed the entire cultivation world!

Either Jiang-zonghzu is incredibly naive or he deliberately placed Wei Wuxian in a difficult position without his knowledge.

Either way, Nie Huaisang is content to see that relationship severed. In his humble opinion, he makes a much better martial brother. And Wei-xiong could certainly benefit from being under the thumb of someone as protective as da-ge. He’s entirely too willing to place himself in harm’s way!

Humming under his breath and happy that everything turned out according to plan, Nie Huaisang turns around the corner and pauses. He quickly takes a few steps back until he’s out of sight. Peeking cautiously around the corner, he hides a grin behind his fan as he sees Wei-xiong fall off a tree and right into Lan Wangji’s arms.

Huaisang bites back a laugh when Wei Wuxian stays in place, arms around Lan Wangji shoulders and eyes peering up at the Second Jade.

He had been suspicious about them since Lan Wangji all but dragged Wei Wuxian to the Unclean Realm. His best friend arrived with flushed cheeks and suspiciously red lips but everyone pointedly ignored it, too eager to avoid that particular mess.

He smiles, chuckling under his breath when Wangji-xiong pulls Wei Wuxian closer and dips his head.

Turning around, he starts walking away, leaving the lovers to their business.

Besides, da-ge would want to know about this.

#short prompts #nie huaisang #lan wangji #wei wuixan #nie mingjue #anti jiang cheng #nmj is proud of his bb bro for standing up for what he believes in lol

271 notes · View notes

wank127 · 3 years

Note

sorry in advance if i’m spamming your notifications /gen!

i just remembered that denki existed and i’m craving [neurodivergent] headcanons and your blog kinda has a lot of good reblogs n posts of that so-

you’re not spamming at all, in fact i didn’t even see this till now since i don’t normally get any asks ! (thanks for the ask btw <3) i hope you enjoy !!

neurodivergent denki headcannons !

disclaimer: i, myself, am currently in the process of getting diagnosed with adhd/autism/whatever it is (i’m not self diagnosing but i did get 8/10 on an autism assessment given to me by a doctor so that must say something) so this is a wee bit of me projecting. my intentions for this post are not to offend anyone in the nd community nor spread any miss information. please correct me if i make any mistakes ! and apologies for it being so long i’m still trying to figure out the ‘read more’ thing !! now ! onto the head cannons !!

he has MAJOR sensory issues and issues with bad textures

his main ones are foods that are a mix between solid or liquid, like a soup that’s meant to be smooth but isn’t or like very wet bread, anything sticky and that one inside of a hoodie feel, like the one wear it’s like fleece but it feels like plastic and somehow creamy and just BLUGNXJSK y’know?

he has that not right kind of thing(iykyk) where he has to say a word/phrase again till it feels right, or touch the desk again, or hit the back of foot again to make it right

it gets really frustrating sometimes

he surprisingly likes velvet, fun to play with, cool to drag your finger around on

he has very bad memory problems

like really bad

they cause him to breakdown every time he has a test cause everything he tried to study was just,, gone,, no where to be found

he opens up to present mic about it and he’s a big help, gives him extra time for testing, helps him with study techniques, gives him more reminders, etc etc

mic and him are like that student-english teacher duo

(no bc they’re the same person just different sizes please)

he struggles with reading a lot too, he knows there’s words but his brain just won’t recognize what they are

word soup

his main special interests/hyperfixations are old english literature, true crime/psychology/criminal stuff, literally anything to do with art and physics(electricity stuff)

he has other ones like cars and how to annoy bakugo to the brink of tears

his most common stims are happy flappy hands, putting his hand into a thumbs up and squeezing, rocking back and forth and swinging his legs about

his like calm down stim is humming, having some form of pressure(weighted blanket !!) and rocking a little bit

he gets overwhelmed by questions a lot

like if he’s not prepared to answer one and he gets asked TWO he’ll just go ‘nope’

he’s nonverbal sometimes, especially when he gets overwhelmed

he zones out and daydreams for like,,, 70% of the day

his favorite texture for food is something like mash potatoes, like a doughy texture, one that just sits right in the mouth

(potato waffles are his go to food (british thing but they’re so good))

just enough chew but not too much, not too wet not too dry

speaking of dry food,, he hates it. dry biscuits(cookies) are a no go if he doesn’t have a bunch of water/juice with him, he also just doesn’t like hot drinks

he’s god fuckinh amazing at art, like painting, drawing, sketching, everything

he’s so good at it

he ‘doodles’ in all of his school work and books, most of the time it’s of aizawa or present mic (or,, *cough*his crush*cough*) and they’re super accurate

when he goes to sleep he has to have a small tea light candle lit, his over the ear headphones on and playing asmr and a hoodie (comfort hoodie, gifted to him by kiri) with the hood up and pressure on his feet(like just his blanket covering them is fine)

no other set up is allowed

he uses fidget (simple dimple pop) and sensory toys

they got taken away from him in class one time, he almost cried it was so sad

RAGE

so much rage

god

when he was younger he used to scream bloody murder when he had to put on sunscreen (same boo)

refused to wear it until his parents got him a spray on sunscreen (it was just like an oil/water based sunscreen that just,, wasn’t sticky, it was perfect) he still uses it to this day

he loves music, so much

it’s so cool

so many playlists

has like ten different ones that he made just for long car drives

like all the sounds and noises just make his brain so happy

he likes bo burnham cause he has very good lyrics and sounds that make him wanna share them with everyone so they can be happy too (especially ‘sexting’ , ‘oh bo’,’ words words words’, ’rant’, the kanye one, ‘we think we know you’, ‘channel 5 news: the musical’ and ‘bezos’ 1&2)

(omg channel 5 news is so good)

his number is 5

he’s kinda scared to do good in school bc his rank in class will go up and what if it lands on an ugly number??

he’s quite unintentionally restrictive with his food

he just forgets to eat or that he’s hungry

he’s working on it tho dw !

his accents are like typical british/english, australian and southern american

pop out at random times

like he’ll ask present mic to repeat the page number as a southern bell little lady

had a vocal stim that was opra singing “milly rock pick it up”

lil jon vocal stim

(YEAH)

his room is very messy and cluttered from all the failed hobbies and things he just forgot about

expect him to cook but DO NOT expect him to clean up afterwards

like iida will walk into the dorm kitchen in the morning and find this huge mess thinking someone broke in

and kiri is like: oh ig denki was hungry i wonder if he has leftovers

okay i think i’m gonna end this one here lol it’s getting kinda long ! i hope you liked it ! <3

150 notes · View notes

rosiehunterwolf · 3 years

Text

Never Put Off Until Tomorrow

Prompts: Chores and Video Games

Word Count: 4,850

Characters: The squad + Pixal

Timeline: between seasons 11 and 12

Trigger Warnings: None

Summary: …what can be done today, yada, yada, yada, we all know the saying. So do the ninja- when Master Wu is drilling it into their heads every minute of every day, it’s kind of hard to forget.

Naturally, it only takes them a week (and the biggest new video game in Ninjago) to do so.

Read on FFN.net

Read on Ao3

Tumblr work under the cut

“Get that gun out of his hand! Without it, he’ll be defenseless and we can take him down easily!” “I’m trying, Jay!” Lloyd said through gritted teeth. “One wrong move and he’ll get me with that thing!”

“Use your powers!” Jay raised his sword and dove at the enemy, forcing him to turn and face him. As their swords clashed with a loud clang of metal, Jay quickly pulled back as Lloyd shot a blast of power at the attacker, who promptly collapsed to the ground.

“Alright! Way to go, green ma- look out!”

Lloyd shrieked as someone suddenly jumped on him from behind, skewering a sword through his skull. The green ninja fell to the ground and vanished in a puff of smoke.

The ninja blinked at the scene before them, speechless.

Jay suddenly let out a whoop, leaning over to high-five Kai. “Way to go, bro! You’re so good at this game!” “He came out of nowhere,” Lloyd huffed, tossing his control to the ground. “He didn’t even give me a chance to fight back.”

Kai reclined, putting his hands behind his head. “Work smarter, not harder, green machine.”

Lloyd scowled, and Nya shot him a sympathetic glance. “Hey, Lloyd, you lasted a whole ten minutes longer than last time! You’ve drastically improved.”

“Don’t feel bad,” Kai winked. “Even Jay couldn’t beat me, I wouldn’t expect you to.”

Cole shook his head. “Dude, you’re unchecked! We’ve only had this game for a week and already, you’re insane. Let’s just say I’m very glad you’re on our team.”

“I’ll say,” Zane agreed. “The Critical Conquest Gaming Tournament is going to have some of the best gamers in Ninjago. You’re good, Kai- we all are- but we all need to be at the top of our game if we want a chance at winning.”

“We got this, guys,” Nya assured. “We’ve fought off serpentine, ghosts, the Overlord, Oni- winning a city-wide video game tournament should be a piece of cake.”

“Speaking of cake-”

“No cake,” Jay snapped at Cole. “Not until we’ve won this thing. I need you to practice.”

“Dude, chill, I’ve been practicing!”

“Then can you show me your double twist dash-melee maneuver?”

Cole blinked at him. “My what?”

“That’s what I thought. Here, let me show you. We’ll try until you’ve got it down.”

“Who put you in charge?”

“You did. Literally. You guys chose me to be the team captain for the competition.”

“Whatever.”

“Lloyd, come here, so he has someone to practice on.”

“Why me?” “Because you need to work on your stealth. Kai got that jump on you surprisingly easily. You’re a good fighter, Lloyd, but fighting doesn’t matter if your enemy kills you before you have the chance. Practice your stealth and dodging on Cole.”

“Ready to get your butt kicked, bud?” Cole reached his hands out, cracking his knuckles before picking up the controller.

“Ha! You wish. The only one who will be getting their butt kicked is-”

The sharp rapping of something against the floor interrupted him, and they turned to see Master Wu standing behind them, his gaze disapproving as he clutched his staff firmly in hand.

“Students, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Uhh, practicing for the Critical Conquest tournament?” Nya said. “I thought that was pretty obvious!”

Wu glared at her. “I know what you’re doing. But I’m afraid I’m going to have to cut all this short. The six of you have many chores to do.”

“Chores?” they cried in unison.

“The past week since you bought that game, you have done nothing but sit around on that couch and play it. In all that time, your chores have piled up. Now, I’m cutting you off. They need to be done, now.”

“But Master!” Jay pleaded. “The tournament starts in only a few hours!”

Master Wu smirked. “Well, I guess you better be fast, then.”

---

The ninja stared down at the alarmingly long list Master Wu had given them, no one speaking a word for nearly a solid minute.

“Why,” Kai groaned, “did we ever put all of these off?”

“Why didn’t Master Wu just let us wait one more day to do the chores?” Jay complained. “The tournament would be all over then!”

“Well, he didn’t,” Cole said. “So there’s no use in complaining. We might as well get started.”

“Alright, guys, if we’re going to get through all of this before the tournament starts, we’re gonna have to divide and conquer,” Nya said. “Let’s see. Zane, Lloyd, you guys take the kitchen. Jay, Cole, you can check the vehicles to make sure they’re operating properly- wait, scratch that, Cole doesn’t know shit about mechanics. Besides, putting you two alone together is never a good idea.”

“Hey!”

“Zane, you go with Jay on the machines. Cole, you’re with Lloyd. Kai and I will work outside on raking and fixing the training course.”

“Hey, no fair, you just gave yourself the easiest job!” Cole grumbled.

“I’ll inform you that raking leaves is very mundane!”

“Yeah!” Kai snapped. “Especially when it’s cold out like this. I’m gonna freeze my fingers off!”

“You’re the fire ninja, you’ll figure something out,” Nya snapped. “C’mon, let’s go.”

“Hey, Cole? You think this is so easy? We can trade places! You wanna trade places?”

“Actually, I’ve decided to be nice and let you take this one.”

Kai glared at him. “You’re only saying that because you know I hate it!” Cole leaned back against the table, smirking. “Maybe.”

“Come on, Kai, we’re going.” Nya grabbed his hand and yanked him out the door.

“I guess we better get working,” Cole sighed. “Jay, Zane, you guys need a copy of your tasks?” Zane shook his head. “I’ve got the list committed to memory. And there’s a lot to do, so we better go.”

As they left the room, Cole turned to Lloyd. “Put a check mark or something by the things the others are doing, so we can see what’s left for us.”

Lloyd made little marks next to the tasks, his pencil slowing as it reached the end. His frown deepened. “I swear, this list is getting longer. Some of these are just ridiculous! Polish the counters? Clean out the oven? Dust the tops of the cabinets? Who does these things?”

“Normal people, Lloyd. It’s not my fault that we’re so busy saving the city that you’ve never done anything more than the most basic chores in your life.”

“I’ve done chores!” “Darkley’s doesn’t count, bud. I bet the only thing you did there was clean spiders out of your bed.”

“They were fire ants,” Lloyd grumbled.

Cole turned on him with wide eyes. “What?”

Lloyd stiffened, suddenly seeming to realize what he had just said. “Uh… I mean… don’t tell Kai, okay?”

Cole stared at him for a moment, before sighing. “I’ll let it go, this once. But only because you’ve had a lot worse things than fire ants since then. Those kids are jerks, though.”

“I know.”

“... They really did that?”

“Yes, Cole! Do I need to show the scars to prove it?”

“No! I was just- you know what, forget I even said anything. Let’s get to work. First up, doing the dishes.” They turned towards the sink, where dozens of dirty plates and cups had accumulated.

“Seriously? Doesn’t anyone ever clean off their dishes after eating?”

Cole shot him a look. “Name one time you did that.”

“Okay, so never, but we’re ninja, not dishwashers! What do you expect?”

“Never put off until tomorrow what can be done today, Lloyd.”

Lloyd groaned. “I can’t believe I’m missing Critical Conquest for this.”

---

“Jay! You’re supposed to be repairing the sentry cannons on the Land Bounty!” “Chill out, Zane, I’ll get to it in a minute-”

Zane suddenly snatched the remote control out of his hand. “Jay! We’re never going to finish in time for the tournament if you don’t focus! Stop playing with toys!” “It’s not a toy!” He gestured towards the small remote-controlled robot. “This thing is going to be a major distraction! It could make it or break it for us in battle!”

Zane eyed the robot skeptically. “This. Distract our enemies?”

“Well, I was going to make it into a smoke bomb, but someone kept pestering me!” “Look, Jay, this isn’t the time to work on your inventions. You can do that later. Right now, you need to fix the sentries.”

“I already looked at the sentries,” he whined. “They were completely fried in our last adventure. I have to rewire the whole thing.”

Zane blinked at him. “Isn’t… that kind of your job?”

“Yeah, well, it’s hard work! I don’t want to do it! I’ll take any other chore on your list.”

“Well, someone needs to do it, and you’re the only one who knows how.”

“Not true! Why don’t you ask Pixal?”

He gestured towards the nindriod, who was tinkering with what appeared to be a small metal box.

“Pixal,” he called, walking over to her, “do you know how to rewire the sentries?” “Yes, but I know for a fact that Jay does, too. I’m not doing it for you.”

“Aww, come on, Pix,” Jay groaned. “Why don’t you have to do anything while the rest of us are all working our butts off?”

She glanced wryly at Jay’s little robot, who was waving cheerfully at her. “I wouldn’t exactly call it that. But I’m not helping because I already did all my chores while the rest of you were playing video games.”

Jay went pink in the face, and even Zane felt himself avoiding Pixal’s gaze.

“Critical Conquest is very important,” Jay muttered.

“More important than making sure all our weapons are operational? Or restocking the medbay?”

“We can do those things any time! The competition is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!”

“Actually, there is another one next month-”

“Shut up, Zane. With our luck, we’ll probably be fighting evil nindroids or will be locked inside a different realm by that point, anyway.”

“I’m not helping you,” Pixal sniffed. “So I don’t know why you’re still here.”

Not taking Pixal’s… not-so-subtle hints, Jay leaned in towards her. “Whatcha workin’ on?”

Pixal eyed him warily. “... It’s a jetpack. I wanted to make something more compact in case I was in a situation where I couldn’t use the Samurai X suit.”

“That’s cool! Although, it might work better if you recalibrated the engines to-”

“Jay,” Pixal said sharply. “I know what I’m doing. Please go work on your chores.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled. “No one ever lets me have any fun.”

Zane shook his head, wandering over to the Earth Driller where he was working on replacing the paneling that had been damaged in the Oni incident.

He couldn’t have been doing so for more than fifteen minutes when the sound of a small explosion interrupted him.

Zane jerked to his feet, dashing over to where the sound had come from.

Jay had jumped back from Pixal’s jetpack, which was now black and smoking.

Of course it was.

“What happened?”

Jay scratched his head nervously. “Well, you see… I really didn’t want to work on those sentries, so when I noticed Pixal stepping out of the room for a moment…”

Zane sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Are you alright?”

Jay grinned. “Right as rain. Not even a scar like last time!”

“Okay, that’s good, now I feel less bad for saying this- what were you thinking?”

“I couldn’t help myself, Zane! She calibrated it all wrong!”

“Well, evidently, you were the one who did it wrong, seeing as it exploded within five minutes of you getting your hands on it.”

Jay jumped nearly a foot in the air. “Pixal! You’re back! Ah… um, I’m really sorry about your jetpack, I was only trying to…”

Pixal marched forward, snatching it off the floor. “It doesn’t matter, it’s done now.”

“I can fix it-”

“You’ve done quite enough,” Pixal snapped. “Why don’t you just go finish your chores now?”

“But-”

Pixal held up the burnt jetpack, shaking it lightly. “You owe me.”

“Fine,” Jay groaned. “I’ll rewire the stupid sentries.”

---

“If I have to rake one more pile of leaves, something is going to end up on fire.”

“Well, luckily for you, that was the last of them.” Nya set down her rake, rubbing her hands together. “Now we just have to dispose of the leaf bags.”

She and Kai glanced over towards the towering pile of leaf bags, and Kai groaned.

“It’s going to take forever to throw these all away!”

“Kai, the dumpster is just on the other side of the Monastery wall!”

“Yeah, but we can only carry a few bags at a time, and we’re going to have to make so many trips!”

“Well, unless you’ve got a better idea, we don’t have a choice.”

Kai paused, his eyes lighting up. “Wait-”

“No, Kai, we are not burning the leaves.”

“I wasn’t going to say that! Although… it’s not a half-bad idea…”

“Kai!” “Okay, okay, no burning! What I was going to say was, why don’t we just toss the bags over the wall and into the dumpster?”

Nya frowned. “We’d miss half of them and then have to go over there anyway and pick them all up.”

“No, we could do it like in Critical Conquest! Remember? The ground-bash move? This is just like that!”

“Kai, that’s just a video game. This is real life!” “Yeah, but wouldn’t it still work?”

Nya frowned, stepping forward and eyeing up the roof of the Monastery. “I suppose if we got the right angle… we’d have to make sure an ample amount of newtons were applied with each hit to reach the correct velocity… and of course we’d have to take into consideration factors like density and wind acceleration per second and its tendency to carry-”

“Okay, okay, enough with your science-y nerd stuff!”

“It’s just basic physics, Kai. I mean, there are a lot of external factors to consider that wouldn’t be present in a lab setting, although I still think it would be quite simple-”

“Would it work or not?” Kai interrupted. “Yes or no, I want a one-word answer.”

“Yes. We just need to get the proper positioning-”

“Can I be the one bashing the bags?”

Nya sighed. “Only if you do exactly as I tell you-”

“Whoooooo!” Kai cried, running off to grab the rake as he swung it around fiercely. “Who’s ready to bash some leaf bags?”

“Kai! I said to do exactly as I say-”

---

Despite Nya’s initial trepidations, the process did not end up being a total disaster, and they actually ended up getting the chore done decently quickly. Now all they had left to do was to test and recalibrate the training course.

Nya glanced down at her watch. Only an hour and a half until the tournament started. Her chances of getting extra practice on those tricky combos were looking slimmer by the second. Hopefully, Kai’s mastery of the game, Jay’s high skill levels, and Cole’s advanced items and power-ups would be enough to help them beat-

“Nya!” Kai shrieked. “I said, turn it off!”

Nya snapped out of her thoughts, glancing up at her brother, who had been knocked to the ground by a whirring training dummy. “Oh, shit!” She spun towards the controls and shut them down, jogging over to Kai. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I think so, I just-” Kai reached for her extended hand, pulling back with a sharp cry as they made contact.

“What?” “My hand,” he grimaced. “It hurts like hell.”

---

“You can’t throw out the Eggo Waffles!” Lloyd insisted, grabbing at the box in Cole’s hands

“Lloyd, they expired three days ago.”

“So what, they’re still edible.”

“They’re going.” Cole gave the box a strong tug, jerking it out of Lloyd’s hands and dropping it in the garbage. Lloyd huffed, crossing his arms.

“Kai would’ve let me keep them.”

“No, he wouldn’t have, because he doesn’t want you to get food poisoning.”

Lloyd paused for a moment, before amending, “Jay would’ve let me keep them.”

Cole sighed. “Yeah, and then you guys would’ve eaten them, and we would’ve ended up with two sick ninja.”

“I wouldn’t get sick! I have these super cool powers that protect me-”

“We don’t have any proof of that. We still don’t know exactly what your powers do.”

“Which means we can’t rule that out yet!”

Cole rubbed his head. “Out of all the people I could’ve gotten stuck cleaning out the freezer with… it had to be you. The one who gets emotionally attached to frozen waffles.”

“I am not emotionally attached-”

“Are you kidding me? He can’t play with this on! This thing is stiff, it seriously restricts his movement!” “It’s not a question, Jay, he needs to keep it on!”

“Is it actually that bad, though? Couldn’t he skip it for one game?”

“Not unless you want it to get worse!” Cole and Lloyd exchanged a glance and stepped out into the hallway, where the other four ninja were gathered.

“What’s going on?”

Zane opened his mouth to speak. “There was-”

“Kai!” Lloyd interrupted suddenly, darting over to him. “What happened to your hand?”

Cole blinked, realizing for the first time that Kai had a swathe of bandages wrapped around his hand.

Kai yelped in pain as Lloyd touched it, and the green ninja recoiled, his eyes widening in guilt. “Oh my gosh, I’m sorry!”

Nya rolled her eyes. “Don’t apologize, Lloyd, he’s fine. He’s just being a big baby about all of this.”

“Am not. It hurts!”

Zane stifled a sigh. “Kai, it is only a bad pulled muscle. Apart from being painful and needing plenty of rest, it’s nothing serious.”

“Well, you don’t know what it feels like,” Kai snapped. “It’s a lot worse than ‘nothing serious.’”

“I scanned you. I am quite certain my diagnosis is correct.”

Nya snickered, and Kai shot her a look. “Shut up, you. You’re the one who did this to me.”

“You’re the one who wasn’t paying attention!” “Yeah, well, you’re the one who was supposed to be-”

“Guys!” Jay cried. “Can’t you see we have more pressing matters at hand? Severe injury or not, Kai can’t play Critical Conquest like this. And he’s our best player!”

“Alright,” Lloyd said. “So we don’t have our best player anymore. That’s bad. But Jay’s still a beast! And Cole, and Nya, and everyone except me, basically-”

“He could be the worst player in all of existence and it still wouldn’t matter,” Cole pointed out. “We need six players to compete or they will disqualify us.”

“But if Kai can’t play, we have no one else! There are no backups!” Nya huffed, turning on Jay. “You’re our team captain! Why didn’t you prepare any backups?”

“Because we know no one else! We live in an isolated monastery at the top of the tallest mountain for miles, what did you expect? Besides, I wasn’t anticipating this to happen!” Zane frowned. “Well, if Kai can’t play, and we have no backup, then our only choice is to drop out-”

“Wait!” Jay cried suddenly. “I think I might have an idea of someone.”

---

“Please please please please-”

Pixal raised an eyebrow at him. “Do you really think begging is going to change my mind?”

“Please, Pixal, we need a sixth player, and you’re the only person I can think of!”

“Why would I help you after you blew up my jetpack?” Kai gaped at him. “You what?”

Jay fought back the heat spreading across his face. “That’s not important right now! Pixal, I promise I’ll fix it, just please compete with us!”

Pixal frowned at him, which wasn’t the most reassuring answer.

“C’mon Pix- I’ll do anything.”

“I don’t know, Jay-”

“We’ll do all your chores for the next month.”

“What?” “We will?”

“Jay, what the heck! We never agreed to that!”

Pixal smiled at him. “I would’ve accepted it if you offered a week, but that’s very generous of you.”

The others shot him smoldering glares, and Jay groaned. “It doesn’t matter, we don’t have time for this.” Glancing down at his phone, he sucked in his breath. “We’ve only got an hour until the tournament! Zane, can you teach Pixal how to play?”

Zane blinked at him. “In an hour?”

“Just cover the basics. We don’t have time for perfection. Just teach her as much as you can before the tournament starts.”

“Alright, I’ll see what I can do.”

As soon as they were out of the room, Jay wheeled around, moaning. “We are so hooped! She doesn’t know how to play! Kai, how could you be careless enough to injure yourself?”

“Oh, sure, blame the victim!” Kai snapped. “Would it kill you to show a little sympathy to your injured teammate?”

“You pulled a muscle, you baby!” Nya groaned. “Pixal’s a fast learner, hopefully, she’ll get the hang of it.”

“Fast learner or not, nothing can beat hours of experience,” Lloyd said. “Let’s just hope the other contestants aren’t as good.”

---

“These dudes are insane!”

Jay continued to scroll through the queued-up players, examining their stats, his jaw dropping. “How much have these people been grinding?”

“So much for an easy win,” Lloyd grumbled.

Zane and Pixal walked into the room, holding their controllers. “I think I’ve done everything I can with Pixal. The competition starts in five minutes, I suggest we get ready.”

“Alright.” Jay turned towards Pixal as Zane worked on setting up the game. “We’re going to need your help, but since you don’t have experience, I think the best move is to have you stay behind us and play defense.”

Pixal smirked. “I’ll do my best.”

“Guys, we have to queue up!” “Are the headsets working?”

“They’re ready, what about the controllers? All charged?”

“We really shouldn’t be checking these kinds of things literally three minutes before the tournament, but yes, they are.”

“Hurry, guys! It’s about to start!”

Zane blinked at the screen. “Jay… you named our team the Fast Chickens?”

“It’s a good name!” The others groaned, and Jay glared at them. “We’ll see who’s complaining when we win this thing!”

Jay fidgeted through most of the opening speeches from the hosts of the competition as they went over rules and procedures. And, after what simultaneously felt like both a million years later and only the blink of an eye, the game was finally starting. They got lucky with their spawn point, and after a few minutes, were able to collect some good resources and get a good start. Cole, Zane, and Nya were able to take down some of the weaker groups before they collected supplies while Jay and the others continued collecting and building up defenses.

Checking the score count, he could see there were already twenty teams down in various parts of the map, and he knew his team had been responsible for felling three of them. Jay couldn’t stop himself from smiling. It seemed like nothing could be going better.

That is, until they suffered a major blow on the southwestern flank of their territory against a high-level team- the CrownViolets, they called themselves. (Which was nowhere near as cool sounding as the Fast Chickens, Jay totally wasn’t insecure about that at all.) After a fierce fight that ended up costing them several lives- and robbing Zane of his last, taking him out of the game- they realized they couldn’t win this fight and backed down, sacrificing a sizeable chunk of their turf.

While still monitoring that boundary, they decided to primarily focus on expanding in the other direction. Their tactic seemed to be working well, and although the CrownViolets kept on encroaching on them from the boundary, the other teams weren’t backing down, and although none managed to defeat the rival team, they were certainly taking their tolls on them. Jay hoped that the other teams would eventually take the Violets out for them, although he had to admit that would be extremely lucky.

They were getting down to the last few teams in the tournament. When the top ten were remaining, special, more deadly weapons were hidden around, and with them, teams began to fight back harder. The Fast Chickens held their own, but by the time they were down to two teams remaining- them and the CrownViolets- both Jay and Lloyd had been killed and eliminated. Only Cole, Nya, and Pixal remained. The CrownViolets still had four players left, but they were weak. If the ninja were strategic enough, they could still win this.

But Pixal was a major hindrance. She had been plenty good at holding back and defending them, but now, with so few left, she was going to have to start playing a more active role. If only Kai had still been there.

“Alright, they’re somewhere around here.” Nya’s character pulled up her radar. “There seems to be two of them right up ahead-”

“Alright, Pixal.” Jay leaned over her shoulder, coaching her. “You’re going to have to start getting offensive. Nya says there’s only two, so there shouldn’t be a problem, but there could be an ambush, or these two could have higher health. We don’t want to take any chances. While Nya and Cole rush them, you should stay back and shoot at them with your launchers. Your character has good accuracy scores.”

There was a flash of purple, and muffled shouting, and Nya froze. “There they are! Let’s get them, guys!”

The three plunged into the fight, and although it was a tough battle, their opponents were relatively low on health, and they ended up eliminating the two CrownViolets- unfortunately, with the loss of Nya before doing so.

“It’s just the two of us left, Pixal,” Cole said, “but there’s also only two of them, as well. We can do this. Just stick close to me. They’re around here somewhere.”

“And that somewhere is here!” Pixal shrieked suddenly, whirling around.

Cole’s eyes widened. “One of their teammates must’ve sent out a distress signal before they died!” He grappled for his weapon, but in his haste, his grip was sloppy.

Pixal, however, barely hesitated, diving at their opponent and attacking in a flurry of blows. Jay’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head as she performed a complex combo it had taken him a full day to learn.

Zane smiled at all their gaping mouths. “I told you to have faith in her.”

Cole was evidently shocked too, and within a few moments, he was dead- although not before delivering a nearly fatal blow to his opponent. Pixal quickly finished him off before turning to face the last remaining player.

“Be careful, Pix,” Jay warned. “She still has pretty high health. Don’t get cocky, or take dumb risks.”

“Dumb risks are your thing,” Pixal corrected, not even batting an eye as she darted past her opponent, slashing her with her sword.

The CrownViolet wasn’t giving up, though. She pushed back, throwing down a smoke bomb and suddenly pushing Pixal down from behind. Pixal rolled out of the way, missing her sword by inches, and sprung up, taking the moment of surprise to her advantage to knock her opponent down. As the rival started crawling away, Pixal’s character took a potion, powering up a special move. The opponent knocked her down as she was waiting to power up, but before she could get a good attack in, Pixal was ready and was blasting her a beam of light.

The girl’s avatar fell to the ground, dead.

There was a beat of silence, then their living room erupted in cheers.

“Pixal! You did it! You won the game for us!”

“I can’t believe it! We actually won! Without Kai!”

“Hey,” Kai yelped. “That didn’t sound like it was meant to be a compliment.”

“What do you mean,” Lloyd said. “That was totally a super nice thing I just said about you.”

Kai narrowed his eyes. “A bit backhanded, don’t you think?”

“Guys, none of that is important!” Cole cried. “We won! Out of all the gamers in the city! We actually won!”

“But I have to know,” Jay insisted. “How did you get so good at the game?”

Pixal shrugged. “I guess you pick up a thing or two watching your team play a game obsessively for the past week.”

Jay blinked. “You’ve been watching us?”

She scowled. “I’ve been doing the chores in here, lightning brain! Repairs, laundry, picking up after you- you’ve just been too obsessed by your game to even notice me!”

“Oh, really? Uh, that’s my bad…”

“Speaking of which, you promised to do my chores, and I’m looking forward to a nice, relaxing evening off.”

“Did I?” Jay laughed nervously. “Hey, did I ever mention that the tournament winners get a cash prize-”

Pixal handed him a mop. “Nice try. Although I still expect my fair share of the earnings by the end of the week. Good luck.” The ninja just gazed at her in horror, and she laughed.

“You’re going to need it.”

64 notes · View notes

homoose · 4 years

Text

Through the Smoke

Request: could you do spencer x bau reader where they aren't dating yet but they both feel for each other? where both spencer and reader are very closed off people and the whole team knows that. but after one rough case on the flight back, they're both just exhausted mentally and physically and seek comfort in each other. then spend the night at reader's apartment and kiss for the first time there. sorry if this is specific but thank you (:

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: angst with a happy ending

Warnings/Includes: typical CM stuff, cults, kidnapping, violence, etc.

Word count: 8.1k

Music recs: Through the Fire by Jake Etheridge and Margot Todd; scared by Jeremy Zucker

a/n: anon, I have no idea if this is what you were looking for, but this is where it went. It’s a generous rewrite of 300, substituting the reader for Garcia. Also this blog operates with the understanding that the season 14 jeid arc does not exist lmao. JJ is firmly in the “I love you as a brother” camp and I will not be taking questions at this time. Also, this is a reminder that my requests are open! send me some fresh ideas, head cannons, rambles, whatever!

———

“Metro PD and the Bureau have been made aware of the Believers and possible activity following their leader’s arrest,” Prentiss confirmed, looking out over the team mingling in the bullpen. “But taking Theo at his word—”

“We only arrested three. There’s probably more out there, but if they follow cult dynamics, they’ll break down on their own without the messiah,” Matt finished.

“Typical cults: you think it’s a cast of thousands when really it’s just four whackos sitting around in the dark,” Tara mused.

Prentiss smiled. “I think we deserve some decompression time, and Rossi’s kind enough to host.”

Rossi leaned over the railing and nodded. “And I have some top shelf wine picked just for the occasion.”

The team started gathering their belongings and heading towards the elevators. Y/N hesitated, looking toward the case file still sitting on her desk. Something about how this had all wrapped up just… didn’t sit right. Her nearly five years with the Critical Incident Response Group had given her an up close view of some of the most prolific cults in American history. She’d studied Jonestown, Waco, Ruby Ridge, Liberty Ranch; new cults emerged onto CIRG’s radar regularly. And there was something about The Believers that just didn’t add up.

Y/N began shuffling things around on her desk, trying to look busy. She caught Spencer and JJ out of the corner of her eye, talking quietly. They ended their conversation with a hug, lingering just a little longer than Y/N would have preferred. She shook her head to try to physically clear the thought from her brain. She knew that Spencer had been through a lifetime’s worth of trauma before she joined the team, and that JJ had been an integral support for him. Y/N was also aware that she had zero grounds to be concerned with any of Spencer’s relationships, romantic or otherwise.

“Y/N, you coming?” JJ asked, walking toward her desk. Spencer headed out of the bullpen and down the hall.

Y/N gave her a half-hearted smile. “Yeah, I’ll be there in a little bit. Just wanted to finish up a couple things here.”

“Well, don’t stay too late.” JJ pressed her lips together for a moment before adding, “Maybe you and Spence could drive together. He said he might not make it, but if he had some company...”

Y/N hoped her immediate flush wasn’t too obvious. After nearly a year in the unit, she finally felt like she had built some solid relationships with the team, and Spencer was no exception. She relished their card games on the jet, the laughs over too-sweet coffee, discussions about books and films and music. But she also adored the way his hair sometimes curled and fell into his eyes, his animated and rambling tangents, the way his hands traced over the tiny print of his books. Most of her adult life had been spent surrounded by men who would gather up her trust in their pitted hands and crush it on a whim. She’d kept her heart behind glass for a long while, but Spencer was slowly chipping away at the fragile panels. She was certain he had no idea that he was even holding the chisel; but just about everyone else seemed to have figured it out. JJ, with her hands clasped together and an eager smile, definitely had. Y/N smiled, too. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“So we’ll see you in a bit?” When Y/N nodded, JJ gave her a warm smile and headed out.

Turning back to the case file, Y/N pressed her fingers to her temple and looked over the documents. Some of the pieces fit together, but the whole case felt littered with gaps and holes. The tale that Theo had woven about The Believers seemed true enough— his parents were simply the suppliers of potential cult members. Although, she still couldn’t figure out the reason for the kidnapping and torture. There were much easier ways to recruit vulnerable people.

She flipped past the pages of written statements and read over the report from the warehouse raid. It was short— the take down of Merva was too easy. Why was he sitting alone in an empty warehouse with only two unarmed, sleeping followers as a defense? Where was the rest of the cult? Matt was correct that most cults fall apart without their leader; unless the loss of a leader was a possibility they’d already prepared for.

The burns on Quinn’s hands didn’t make sense, either. Why use the initiation ritual as a torture device? Shouldn’t that be saved for people who had accepted the invitation? And then there was the one coincidence that nagged at her the most: what were the chances that Theo just happened to be enrolled in Spencer's course? Why did Spencer seem to be at the center of the whole thing?

Y/N sighed as her phone lit up with a message from JJ. She realized she’d been poring over the file for twenty-five minutes, and she had to laugh. As the least experienced profiler on the team, what could she possibly see that the others hadn’t? She closed the case file and quickly packed up, grabbing her jacket and bag and making her way toward the elevator lobby. She paused at the glass doors, retrieving her phone and pulling up Spencer’s contact information. Her thumb hovered over the call button for a long moment before she huffed out a breath. If even JJ hadn’t been able to convince him to go, there was no way she’d be able to change his mind. Despite herself, she glanced down the hall, allowing herself one moment to imagine an alternate timeline where she asked him to come along with her— to Rossi’s, to the moon, anywhere.

With a sigh, Y/N pushed open the glass doors and saw Agent Meadows leading Quinn to the elevator. She pushed down the little red flag in the back of her mind. As she stepped onto the elevator, she smiled politely at the two agents.

“I knew you didn’t do it. I just knew,” Meadows said to Quinn. She turned to Y/N. “And I can’t tell you what a privilege it’s been working with the A-Team on this case.”

Something about the calm in her voice made Y/N uneasy. “Yeah, it’s— um. It’s a great team to be a part of.” Her phone lit up again, this time with a phone call from JJ. “Okay, okay,” she muttered under her breath. Y/N answered the call, half an ear still listening to Meadows speak to Quinn. “Hey, I’m just leaving now.”

“Are you still at the BAU?” JJ demanded, voice low.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry. But I’m in the elevator,” Y/N answered.

“Listen, we’re pretty sure Quinn was converted,” JJ told her. Y/N’s heart dropped into her shoes. “I need you to make sure he doesn’t leave that building. We’re coming back now. Where’s Spence?”

Y/N took a breath to try to even out her voice before speaking again. “Mom, we already talked about this. I don’t know.”

JJ paused. “Is Quinn in the elevator with you?”

“Yep.” JJ spoke quietly to someone on the other end of the phone. Y/N watched as the elevator dinged to the floor of the parking garage. “I’m going to have to hang up, mom. I’m gonna lose you, but I’ll try to take care of it tonight, okay?”

“Y/N, we’re on our—” The call dropped as the elevator hit the basement level.

Y/N took a deep breath to steady her voice. “Ugh, lost her.” She glanced at Meadows and Quinn, forced a smile and shrugged. “Elevators, right?”

The elevator doors began to open and Y/N stepped out, surreptitiously reaching for her holster. She had just lifted the strap when she heard the crack of metal hitting bone. Her face hit the concrete before she realized it was her own skull that bore the impact. She watched as her gun skidded across the parking lot floor, the taste of iron flooding her mouth. “Fuck,” she muttered, wincing in pain and scrambling up off the ground as a gunshot went off.

She didn’t feel the impact of the bullet. She looked down at her body, expecting to see a blooming rose of blood. She stared dumbly for a second too long, before remembering that she needed to get to her gun. Her hand instinctively went to her nose as she stumbled forward, coming away wet with blood.

“Stop, Agent Y/L/N.”

She heard the sound of a gun cocking, and then another. She closed her eyes and ran through an internal stream of curses. Raising her hands up, she turned slowly around. An older white man stood to her left, his gun trained on her. Meadows walked slowly towards her, lowering her own weapon. Quinn leaned against the back of the elevator, clutching his abdomen and blood staining the front of his shirt.

“Surprise,” Meadows sang, a sick smile spreading across her face. She stopped in front of Y/N, sweeping her hand in the direction of the man. “Now, John’s going to make sure you don’t do anything stupid. Get in the car.”

Y/N glanced in the direction of the vehicle, a dark sedan, driver armed to the teeth as well. “The team knows something’s up. You won’t make it out of this garage alive.”

Meadows laughed, loud and unhinged. “Oh honey. They’re not looking for lil ol’ me. And they sure as hell won’t be looking for an ambulance.” Her smile returned. “Plus, I already erased 299 murders from the Bureau’s radar. What’s a couple more? Now, shut up... and get in the car.”

Y/N moved to the open car door, keeping her back as straight as possible and her chin up, refusing to show them any cowardice. The barrel of the gun jabbed her in the back as she lowered herself into the vehicle. The door slammed shut, and in a moment, the gun was back on her, the man sitting next to her in the backseat. Y/N waited for the car to pull out, still trying to make sense of it all. Meadows was a Believer? What did she mean by “erased” 299 murders? Why would she blow her cover to shoot Quinn? Did she think that he had figured her out? Or that Y/N had? If that was the case, why not just shoot her? Why wasn’t the car moving?

“Drop your gun, Agent Reid,” Meadows’ muffled voice penetrated the inside of the vehicle. Y/N’s heart began to race. John dug the gun further into her side.

“It’s been you the whole time,” Spencer deduced.

“Yes, it was. Quinn somehow figured it out first. Pity having to shoot him,” Meadows mocked. “But he can’t give me what I want. And you can.”

“What’s that?” Y/N’s brain scrambled to put the pieces together as she listened to the exchange. Spencer was at the heart of it after all. It was right there, she just couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

Meadows continued, “You and I are going to go upstairs and free my Messiah.”

“You’re in the heart of the FBI. As soon as the rest of my team figures out it’s you, you’ll be dead before you’re out the door.” Y/N hoped to god that he was right.

“Then we need to work quickly.”

“I’m not going to cooperate with you,” Spencer told her. “Might as well shoot me.” Y/N didn’t even have time to panic before the car shifted into drive.

“I have a better idea.” On Meadows’ cue, the driver squealed out of the parking space and into Spencer’s line of sight. His eyes fell on Y/N, hands nearly pressed against the window, John’s gun pointed at her head. “Now, what’s it gonna be? Because you can either join us, or she dies.”

Y/N tried to radiate her rage through her eyes and screamed, “Reid, just shoot her! Shoot her!” The last thing she saw before the second crack of steel against her skull was the hesitation in Spencer’s eyes.

⧭⧭⧭

Y/N’s eyes fluttered open and she groaned at the pounding of her head, the rhythm of her heartbeat throbbing in the space behind her ears. She tried to lift her hand to check for blood, only to strain against the hold of a zip tie attached to the base of the chair. Instead, she surveyed the room around her. A warehouse, lots of shipping containers, and even more men— this time armed with assault rifles and machine guns. One stood at the entrance point of the small area she was being kept in.

She worked through her memory, putting the pieces together. Meadows was a Believer, had been for quite some time to pull all of this off. Quinn wasn’t special, he just got in the way of her real target. Ben Merva might have been the messiah, but Spencer Reid was clearly just as important to whatever mission they were carrying out. Every twisting thread of information somehow traced back to him: Theo in his class, Quinn’s attachment to him, Meadows’ demand that he be the one to free Merva.

“Good, you’re awake.” Meadows strode through the space with a laptop in hand. “I need your handiwork.”

Y/N stared at her. “Is that so?’

Meadows set the laptop on the barrel in front of Y/N and then leaned down to cut the zip tie. “Besides being my collateral for the good doctor, you’re also going to help me access CIRG’s surveillance data.”

“Fuck you.” Y/N spat on Meadows’ shoes. “I’m doing nothing for you.” Her head rolled back, eyes piercing daggers into Meadows. “You should just kill me now, because this is a waste of your time. And I’m sure you know the A-Team isn’t going to waste theirs.”

Meadows narrowed her eyes and gave a theatrical sigh. “I should’ve known you’d make this difficult.” She nodded to John, standing at the entranceway.

Y/N spat again, this time to rid her mouth of the taste of blood. She steeled herself for the next onslaught, compartmentalizing every emotion outside of her fury. Her mind raced to salvage and scrutinize the memories from her time in CIRG, trying desperately to identify what Meadows could be looking for in the surveillance reports. The Believers hadn’t even been on the Bureau’s radar. The reason had to be linked to their interest in Spencer… a piece of information that involved both Spencer Reid and the existing surveillance data. A single grain that could bring the whole damn bushel down.

She heard a scuffle at the entrance of the room and raised her head. Her heart jumped into her throat at the sight of Spencer, bloodied and bruised. John dragged him into the room, throwing him down onto his knees in front of Y/N. His eyes tracked over her face and clouded over with an emotion she couldn’t quite place.

“Shit, Reid—”

“I’m fine—I’m sure it looks worse than it is,” he murmured. The concern in his eyes told Y/N she looked about as bad as she felt. “Are you all right?”

“I should’ve seen it. I should’ve known—”

“No,” Spencer interrupted. “This isn’t your fault. We all missed it.”

“What’s the end game here?” Y/N asked. “What’re they doing?”

“I’m going to be their last victim.” Spencer shook his head, barely able to keep himself upright. “I don’t know why, but I overheard them. There have been hundreds.”

Meadows stepped up behind Spencer, grinning at Y/N. “Have you changed your mind? I sure hope you have.” She raised her gun to his head. “Because if you don’t do what I want, I’ll blow his big, beautiful brains out.”

Spencer locked eyes with Y/N. She held his gaze for a moment, then tilted her head slightly as the gears started turning. The tie between Spencer and Benjamin was where it all unraveled. “No, I don’t think you will.”

Meadows’ grin faltered for less than a second, but it was long enough that Y/N knew she was right. “Is that right?” Meadows questioned.

“Yeah, it is.” She furrowed her brow, and Spencer looked at her. “You need him, don’t you? Alive.” Meadows’ tongue darted out to wet her lips, and Y/N was sure. “Because this isn’t just about Benjamin Merva. It’s about Benjamin Cyrus. It’s about Liberty Ranch.”

Meadows held her gaze for five seconds, then ten seconds. Y/N raised her chin, refusing to be the one to blink first. Meadows shifted the trajectory of her gun a foot to her right and fired off one shot. The breeze from the bullet shifted Y/N’s hair.

“You have two minutes to decide,” Meadows advised. The phone in her hand began ringing. “The next one won’t miss.” She answered the phone and stepped out.

Spencer spoke quickly. “Do whatever she’s asking. We have to get you out of here.”

“Reid, are your eyes broken?” Y/N snapped. “There’s a cult loyalist with a machine gun every five feet. You got a plan for that?”

“Listen to me.” His voice was calm, determined. “You’re right about them wanting me alive.”

The frustration bled through Y/N’s voice. “You should have just shot her.”

He shook his head. “I couldn’t do that.”

“You could’ve shot all three of them and ended this in the garage,” Y/N argued.

“And then I would have watched you die,” he said quietly. “That was never even an option.”

“I’m failing to see how that would have been any worse than this. Look at us.” She gestured wildly between them. She watched as the storm of emotion returned, a cyclone swirling in seas of gold and brown. “The team needs you. Spencer, I—” I need you. She reached a hand up, almost touching his face before dropping it back in her lap. He had found the chink in her carefully constructed armor; a fissure he’d fractured a little further with every smile, every look, every moment. All at once she knew she’d never be able to keep him out, no matter how much it might hurt.

“You’ve got one minute,” Meadows barked, hovering over them.

“Y/L/N, listen to me… Please...” Spencer’s voice was thick with tears. “Tell my mom—” The phone rang again, and Meadows stepped away to answer it. Spencer dropped to a whisper. His eyes flashed with urgency. “They’re taking me and Theo. We’ll distract them. The car we were in is right outside the door. We’re 18 minutes from Quantico. Turn left outside the parking lot, take a right at the light, you’ll recognize the rest. They stay off the highways.”

Y/N’s voice was frantic when she asked, “What about you?”

His eyes pleaded with her to respect what he was asking her to do. “I’ll delay them. Get the rest of the team back here. And do not worry about me.” John hauled up him off the floor.

“Time’s up.” Meadows, in a rare display of mercy, allowed them a hug.

Spencer leaned into her and Y/N wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She squeezed as hard as she could and whispered his name. She felt him take a deep breath into her hair, holding it for one impossibly long moment. Just before she released her hold on him, he mumbled, “It’s all happening. 10:23.” John dragged him back out the way they’d came.

“I gave you what you wanted.” Meadows ordered, “Get to it. Now.”

⧭⧭⧭

Y/N worked and waited, then watched and worried. Spencer spoke to Meadows. He was stalling her, offering a deal, boosting her ego, granting Y/N the opportunity to mentally prepare. But no matter how much time he gave her, she would never be prepared to leave him in that warehouse. He met her eyes across the movements of the operation and gave her an imperceptible nod before lunging forward to reach for John’s gun.

Chaos exploded throughout the warehouse. Theo ran in one direction, accosted by half a dozen Believers. Spencer and John tussled over the gun, one fighting for control and the other fighting the inevitable. Y/N sprinted, largely unnoticed, toward the huge sliding doors left slightly ajar. Bursting out into the night air, she immediately spotted one of the black sedans, unbelievably unlocked and with the keys in the ignition. She slammed the door behind her, turned the key, hesitated with her eyes on the door and her mind on Spencer for one moment too long. A single gunshot sounded from inside the warehouse.

Meadows raced out of the doorway, gun drawn. “Stop!” She pointed her gun at Y/N and there was nothing to do but step on the gas. Y/N had her eyes wide open as Meadows bounced off the windshield and onto the asphalt. She didn’t look back.

She drove. Left out of the parking lot. Just a dark, rural road—nothing particularly special or descript. She drove. Right at the stoplight. Then it was, just as Spencer said, familiar terrain. She wondered how it was possible to have seemed so far away— a world away— when it was right under their proverbial nose. She drove.

Her brain navigated of its own volition. Her mind couldn’t have been farther from the inside of the vehicle. She didn’t realize she’d arrived at the Bureau until she was attempting to pull into her usual parking spot, only to be met with her own abandoned car.

She turned the car off, left the keys in the ignition, and nearly floated out into the garage; up the elevator; across the cold floors of the lobby. Her body had walked this same path so many times before; it carried her without hesitation. She could hear the voices of the team, drifting through the open glass doors.

“She accepted their help knowing she would betray the government,” Tara deduced.

“Not every survivor wanted help,” JJ clarified.

Rossi continued, “We ran those who left the ranch and kept their names. A few relocated in rural Maryland and Virginia.”

“They could be helping now,” Luke suggested. “Any of them have large pieces of property?”

“A few,” Emily confirmed. Y/N turned the corner as she continued, “The Washington field office has started searches in Maryland. We’ll take the lead in Virginia.”

As she moved into the doorway, JJ’s eyes went wide and she rushed to Y/N’s side. “Oh my god, are you hurt?” She gently grabbed Y/N by the shoulders.

“It’s a warehouse in Hillcrest,” Y/N said flatly, eyes unfocused. “I can take you there, but we have to hurry. They hurt Reid; he looked— bad. He told me to r-run and take the car, but he’s still there.” Everyone headed for the doors except JJ and Garcia. “They won’t be there long, they have lots of trucks.” Y/N’s eyes locked on JJ, and for the first time since the whole ordeal started, she allowed herself to splinter, just a little. “I heard a gunshot. JJ, I heard a gunshot. I tried—”

“Shh, it’s okay,” JJ nodded, drawing her into a hug. “I know. I know you tr—”

“I left him there.” Her voice broke, but she couldn’t cry. Not yet. “I couldn’t get him. There was no way to save hi—”

“Stop,” JJ ordered, pulling out of the hug. “Y/N, look at me. You got out, you got back to us. If you hadn’t, we wouldn’t even know about the warehouse.”

“What if— what if I got him killed?” Y/N asked.

“You didn’t get anyone killed. Spence knew what he was doing.” JJ’s voice softened. “That’s what he does. He always figures things out before the rest of us. He has a plan and getting you back to Quantico was part of it.” She raised her eyebrows, making sure Y/N was listening. “And now we have to help him by putting the rest of it together.”

Y/N ran a hand over her face. “You’re right. Of course, you’re right.”

Garcia stepped forward and laid a hand on her arm. “Let’s get you cleaned up. Then we’ll get Reid back.”

They cleaned the blood from her face and hair as best they could in the bathroom sink. JJ patched up the lacerations with steri-strips. Back in the conference room, Garcia insisted she should get screened for a concussion as Y/N rubbed the knot on the back of her head. “There’s no time. Reid said, ‘It’s all happening. 10:23.’”

“But it’s past that,” JJ considered.

“So what did he mean?” Garcia asked.

“Could be a clue here.” Rossi's voice came over the speakerphone from inside the warehouse. “They got sloppy since they left in a hurry.”

“Okay, well you can’t be that far behind them,” JJ insisted.

“I know,” Emily agreed. “But there’s easy access to three major highways, and we don’t know which way they went.”

“Right, but they’re in tractor trailers. That means we can track them through weigh stations.”

“Garcia?” Emily prompted.

“In order to do that, I’d need the transponder identification numbers,” Garcia answered.

“Which we have no way of knowing,” Rossi sighed. “Everything they used was almost definitely forged.”

“We’re going to do another sweep here, and then we’ll head back,” Emily said. “Try to map out the most likely routes they’d use to get out of dodge.”

JJ hung up and looked to Y/N. “What do you remember about the warehouse?”

Y/N pressed her fingers into her temples. “It was full of supplies. They were disguising them, but they had stockpiles of weapons and ammunition; non-perishables and other food items; water. Enough to be off the grid for at least a year.” Y/N leaned back in her chair. “But it wasn’t just about The Believers. I mean, we know they’re a reincarnation of the Separatarian Sect.” She looked at JJ and Garcia. “It was more than that, though. Reid was at the center of everything; he was the target all along. Merva is the messiah, but it somehow all comes back to Spence.”

“Makes sense. They blame him for the downfall of the Sect,” JJ supplied.

“Yeah.” Y/N cracked her knuckles. “But—and I can’t—I can’t really explain it, but Meadows really wanted to kill Reid right then. She was— she was irritated, more than anything else.”

“So what stopped her?” Garcia asked.

“That’s what I can’t figure out. She threatened me with it, with ‘blowing his brains out,’ but I— called her bluff. And she was pissed.” Y/N rapped her knuckles on the table. “I mean, really, really furious. Which tells me that, even though she wanted to, she couldn’t kill him.” She looked between the two of them. “Merva was pulling the strings, and he wouldn’t let her do it there.”

“So it matters where the final sacrifice takes place,” JJ concluded. “We’ve got to figure out where they’re going.”

⧭⧭⧭

They’d been rehashing the details over and over. Liberty Ranch, The Strangler investigation, The Believers, Meadows, Merva, Cyrus, 300 victims, the hyoid bones, all of it. About the only thing they knew for sure was how far the cult could get in the trucks. Spencer could have told them the exact square mileage, but the potential geographical range of the trucks was dauntingly large. Y/N tried not to panic as she stared at the map.

“If this is about a Believer's rebirth, babies are born with 300 bones,” JJ said. “And they’re taking the hyoids.”

“And the hyoids we had in evidence are missing, which means Merva needed them back,” Tara reasoned. “And that means they mean more to the end game than we thought.”

Y/N felt her patience waning. “But why did Reid need us to know it all happens at 10:23?” Y/N hated that her voice sounded snappy and desperate. “That’s got to be important. It’s the last thing he said to me.”

Matt put his hand on her shoulder. “Listen, you’re right. It means something to him. We’re trying to figure it out.”

“Yeah, well, we better figure it out soon.” Y/N shrugged off his hand, pushed back from her seat at the conference room table, and turned for the door. She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. Every minute they spent floating ideas was another mile between them and Spencer. Another moment closer to losing him. She shoved the bathroom door open, hurrying into the stall and emptying the contents of her stomach.

She slumped back against the side of the stall, head gently knocking into the cool metal. She needed to pull herself together. The team was always strongest when they did their group think sessions, building upon each other’s knowledge and perspectives and filling in the gaps. If they’d done more of that earlier— if she’d had the confidence to call it out as soon as she saw the holes, Spencer might not be locked in the back of a truck, hundreds of miles away.

Y/N hoisted herself off the ground and out of the stall. She braced her hands on the counter top and tried to breathe evenly. She turned on the water and splashed her face, tapping against her cheeks. With water dripping down the planes of her face, she stared herself down in the mirror, willing her tired brain to make that last connection, to find that missing thread. It was all about the Benjamins, and she had a feeling that Cyrus was the key.

Y/N rolled her shoulders back and made her way to the conference room. She listened to their rotating conversation, knowing that this team was the only group of people capable of getting Spencer back alive.

“We have confirmation that there’s been no activity in or around the old ranch,” Matt informed them, pocketing his phone.

“If this is about rebirth, they’ll choose a new place,” Luke posited, arms crossed.

Tara leaned over the table. “Given their adoration of Cyrus and his love for the country, he’d want them to stay within our borders.”

“But Benjamin Cyrus wasn’t his real name, and he wasn’t born into the Sect,” Y/N reminded them quietly. Everyone turned to look at her. She gave an apology grimace to Matt. He just shrugged and smiled, motioning her over to the table.

Garcia nodded. “Right, let’s see. Uh, he and his mom arrived there when he was a teenager. He was kicked out for molesting girls. And then he served time in prison in Kentucky.”

“And that’s where he found religion,” Y/N recalled, thinking back to the report she’d studied dozens of times. “So he was reborn as Benjamin Cyrus in Kentucky.” She closed her eyes and flipped through her mental file cabinet, looking for 10:23.

“That’s within the area,” Garcia confirmed. “Maybe that’s where they’re headed?”

“Find out what city he was born in or where he was in prison,” Luke said. “We’ll spread out from there.”

“He found religion,” Y/N repeated, mostly to herself. “Chapter ten, verse twenty-three. 10:23 isn’t a time.” Y/N shook her head and then dragged her hand through her hair. “It’s scripture.”

“Let’s get in the air; we can narrow down which verse and city before we land,” Emily instructed.

⧭⧭⧭

“We’re approaching Kentucky; the pilot needs to know where to touch down,” Rossi informed them.

The team was scattered throughout the jet, scrolling through scripture on their tablets, reading out verses. Y/N held her chin in her hand, eyes unfocused, dragging a net along the furthest corners of her mind.

“Hey guys, listen to this,” JJ said. “Matthew chapter ten, verse twenty-three: ‘When you are persecuted in one place, flee to another.’”

“They’re going to the next town,” Emily said.

“Flee to the next town. But which one?” asked Garcia.

“Their end game is also a new beginning,” Rossi explained. “Cyrus brought religion back to the cult. They’d honor that by wanting to start fresh.”

Y/N raised her head. “Like the Garden of Eden.”

“That’s how 300 fits,” Tara concluded. “That was the number of angels that protected the Garden of Eden. Are there any Edens in Kentucky?”

The sound of Garcia tapping across the keyboard came through the laptop. “Um, no, but there are two synonyms: Canaan and Arcadia.”

“Cyrus is the original messiah. Which one is closer to where he was born?” Y/N asked.

“Arcadia,” Garcia informed them.

Y/N stood up. “That’s where they’re going.”

“Garcia, pull land deeds. I’ll notify SWAT,” Emily instructed.

JJ grabbed Y/N’s hand. “We’re going to get him.”

Y/N met her eyes. “I just hope we’re not too late.”

⧭⧭⧭

The new compound proved easy to find. In the middle of nowhere but illuminated by hundreds of lights, there were rows and rows of tents. The team began strategizing, looking for the best route to Spencer.

Emily tried to convince Y/N, now showing clear concussion symptoms, to stay with the SUVs.

“With all due respect, there is no way in hell that I’m going to sit in this car while Reid gets sacrificed by a homicidal cult leader,” Y/N said. There was a hushed pause, the team exchanging knowing glances.

“Fair enough,” Emily conceded. “Matt and JJ, I want you on the left side. Luke and Tara, the right. Dave and Y/N, you’re with me. We’re clearing every tent; eliminate any threat that would give away your position.” She unholstered her gun and swept her eyes across the team. “Our objective is to extract Reid with minimal loss.”

As they approached the first line of tents, Y/N could faintly hear Spencer speaking. “To everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven.” Her heart hammered against her ribcage. “A time to be born and a time to die.” She could feel the blood rushing through her ears. “A time to weep and a time to pluck up that which has been planted.”

“Okay, he’s stalling,” Meadows snapped. “That’s enough!”

“All right. Let the sacrifice begin.” That was Merva now, riling up the followers. “Protect us from all harm.”

As Merva led The Believers in a monotone chant, Y/N tried to block it out. She scanned a tent, watched as SWAT took out a bodyguard, looked for Spencer. Rinse and repeat, again and again. It was taking too long.

“And we thank Our Guardian, who will protect this family now and always,” Merva’s voice rang out. “Spencer: keeper of provisions!” Y/N saw the gathering of followers, but she couldn’t see Spencer.

The SWAT commander stopped them. They had reached the final line of tents. He signaled to the leaders on each side. They were ready to strike.

Y/N’s eyes scanned the crowd. She could just barely make out some sort of hanging mobile, white u-shaped decorations suspended from string. The hyoids, she realized, a wave of nausea hitting her like a truck.

Merva continued, “You have given selflessly to others and will be rewarded by the highest honor we could bestow. Your blood will be our blood. Your life will fuel ours.”

A gunshot rang out. The followers gasped. There was a split second of calm before the bedlam. Y/N took a single breath. Then she heard Matt yell; saw John lift his rifle and be felled by a solo shot to the head; watched Luke take down another bodyguard directly after.

And then she saw him. Strapped down under a canopy of bones, Spencer was silent and unmoving. He didn’t struggle. He didn’t call out. And there was Merva, knife in hand— still trying to complete his mission.

She didn’t vacillate, barely breathed, just let her legs carry her forward. She heard Emily call out his name. When Merva turned, the curved blade of the knife poised at the column of Spencer's throat, Y/N’s trigger finger compressed. She felt the gun recoil, felt the force of the shot travel up her arm as she put a single bullet in his chest. As he fell, she didn’t stop, just stepped over him, knew one of the others would take care of it.

She tripped over the small platform Spencer was restrained on, stumbling and holstering her gun. Her hands moved over the straps, loosening the one over his waist, then the ones at his hands, finally pushing the leather from his head. He panted and muttered his thanks, but she didn’t dare speak, afraid that if she did, she’d never be able to stop. Instead, she flung her arms over his shoulders, pulling him down and close and over her heart. She wondered if he could feel the way it pummeled against her chest, because to her it felt like it might smash through at any moment. His arms came around her, chin resting on her shoulder, nose in her hair. She heard him inhale and hold his breath, a mirror of that last moment together in the warehouse. She held onto him as an overboard sailor holds a life ring: single-minded, unrelenting, desperate.

There was a touch on her opposite shoulder and Y/N swung around, adrenaline still racing through her veins. JJ put her hand out in a placating motion, and Y/N came back to herself, allowing JJ to step forward and help Spencer off the platform. Y/N let out a breath and reached a hand out to steady herself, only to flinch when it brushed one of the straps that had held Spencer down. Luke caught her on one side, Tara on the other. She grasped at them, her emotions teetering right along with her physical form. Luke pulled her out from under the macabre canopy and into a hug. Tara held her hand. For the first time since the parking garage, she let herself go.

⧭⧭⧭

The jet was quiet. The team was spread out around the cabin, each of them lost in their own heads. There was a tranquility over the space, one that only ever happened when unmitigated relief overwhelmed even the joy or fulfillment of a life saved.

Y/N sat in one of the single seats, across the aisle from where Spencer was settled. Tara and Luke had finally convinced her to get checked out by the EMTs, who had confirmed her concussion. She convinced herself that the fuzziness on the corners of her vision was just a symptom of that, not a product of the tears she was struggling to hold back.

The team each stopped by Spencer’s seat, patting his shoulder, squeezing his hand, or in Rossi’s case, gently ruffling his hair. They all spoke briefly in hushed, grateful tones. All except Y/N. She couldn’t formulate a sentence that seemed adequate. There was simultaneously too much and nothing to say. Everything felt contrived or insufficient or intemperate.

Spencer was safe. They hadn’t been too late. He was bruised and undoubtedly sore, but ultimately, he’d been through worse. So why was her heart still aching? Why couldn’t she catch her breath? She hadn’t spoken more than a few words since leaving the raid, so why did her throat feel like it was on fire? She closed her eyes, leaned her head back. She incessantly pressed her hands together, trying to crack her sore knuckles over and over again.

A pair of hands gently closed over her own, stopping the abuse, and she didn’t have to open her eyes to know who they belonged to. His thumbs stroked over the backs of her hands and she cursed the tears that spilled over her bottom lashes. He didn’t say anything, didn’t force her to look at him or acknowledge her shattering. He waited her out, rubbing a rhythm on her skin and steadying her without a word. She opened her eyes but couldn’t bring herself to look at him just yet. Instead she focused on their joined hands, reciprocating the gentle pulses he gave every so often.

She turned her head to wipe her wet cheeks on her shoulder as the landing announcement came over the cabin speaker. She did look at him then, and the emotion in his gaze left her feeling raw and exposed. Their hands reluctantly separated to buckle their seat belts. Y/N closed her eyes again, turning her face into the warmth of the early morning sun as the jet began its descent.

When they landed, everyone wearily shuffled off the plane, eager to get home to their beds. Penelope met them at the elevator, enveloping Spencer in a long hug, the rest of the team smiling at their embrace. They each moved through the bullpen, gathering their things and talking quietly. Y/N’s eyes paused on her bag, brought up from the parking garage by one of the team after she’d gone missing. They lingered for a long moment on the case file, still sitting where she’d left it hours ago, before she let herself let it go. She grabbed her bag and turned to see Spencer standing in the aisle, hands in his pockets and eyes fixed on her.

“Hey,” she said dumbly.

He smiled. “Hi.”

Her hands wrung the straps of her bag. “How—how’re you holding up?”

“I’ve been worse.” He shrugged. “How’s your head?”

“I’ve been worse,” she agreed.

“That’s good. Because I think after all that, the least you could do is give me a ride home,” he joked.

Y/N knew he was trying to reassure her that he was fine, but she couldn’t bring herself to laugh. If anything, his attempts to provide comfort made her feel worse. Because she couldn’t forget the sound of the gunshot at the warehouse, the sight of the knife at his throat, the feeling of nearly losing someone whom she knew she could love if she just had more time. Too exhausted to hide her emotions, she could tell by the change in Spencer’s eyes that the pain was apparent on her face.

“Actually, you probably shouldn’t be driving, even if it’s just a mild concussion. Where are your keys?”

“It’s fine. I’m all ri—” Y/N started.

“I know I phrased that as a question, but I’m not really asking.” He held out his hand.

Normally she would have argued, but she just didn’t have the energy. Y/N dug into her bag, fishing out the keys and dropping them into his hand. He closed his fingers around them and jerked his head toward the door. “Come on,” he murmured. He waved to the rest of the team, and Y/N nodded, avoiding their eyes.

The ride in the elevator was silent. The walk to the car, too. They were pulling out of the garage before Spencer finally broke the silence.

“You know this wasn’t your fault, right?” he asked. Y/N stayed quiet. “We all missed the connection to Liberty Ranch.”

“But I knew something was off, and I didn’t say anything. I— I almost came to find you before I left, and if I had just done that—”

“Y/N,” Spencer interrupted. “The plan was already in motion. Meadows and Merva would have just figured out another way to execute it.” His fingers tightened on the wheel. “And without you and the leads from the warehouse, the team might not have figured it out in time.”

Y/N opened her mouth before realizing she didn’t have a response. She didn’t even want to consider that possibility. She leaned her head against the window, pressing the thumb and fingers of one hand into her eyes to stave off the throbbing.

Graciously, Spencer let her remain in silence the rest of the ride to her apartment. There was so much to say, especially now; she didn’t know where to begin. And even after everything, she couldn’t stop herself from bringing up that wall— protecting herself from what she knew could hurt her more than any unsub.

They pulled onto her street, fairly empty at such an early hour. Spencer parked in front of her apartment, opening the car door and coming around the other side of the car. She expected him to give her the keys, but as she exited the car, he waited by the gate for her. “I’ll walk you up.”

Spencer opened the gate, allowing her to walk through before closing it behind them and following her up the sidewalk. “I need the keys,” she told him.

He shook his head as if to clear it. “Right, right.” He placed them into her outstretched hand, and she wondered if she imagined his fingers lingering over hers.

When they reached her door, she unlocked the deadbolt and swung the door open, stepping over the threshold. He waited outside, hands in his pockets. Y/N rolled her keys in her hand, and Spencer watched them.

“Um— thank you for—” Y/N started.

“I told Emily on the jet, and I’ll tell you now.” Spencer raised his eyes to meet hers. There was that look again, the one she couldn’t quite identify. “I’ve always had a hard time saying what I feel. And maybe sometimes it’s because I’m afraid of being disappointed. But sometimes it’s because the words I’m looking for don’t exist in the English language.”

“Spence—”

“Please just let me get this out,” he said. “There have been a couple moments over the past few months where I thought maybe we were sharing mamihlapinatapei.”

“Mamih what?” Y/N asked.

“Mamihlapinatapei.” He repeated, gesturing with his hands. “It’s a Yagan word that originates on the Tierra del Fuego archipelago off the southern tip of Argentina. It translates succinctly as ‘the wordless, meaningful look shared by two people who both desire to initiate something, but are both reluctant to do so.’”

“Oh.” Y/N felt a flush rising up in her cheeks.

Suddenly, Spencer couldn’t meet her eyes. “I, um—I wasn’t sure, and I didn’t want to do anything that would jeopardize our friendship or make things awkward at work. But last night, I… I just— I’ve had too many moments in my life where I thought it might be my last, and I hadn’t said all the things I needed to say.” He met her eyes again, and there was that familiar storm. “Last night I was out of time, and I hadn’t told you how I feel, and I realized that I wouldn’t get another chance, and it’s okay if you don’t feel the same, but I needed to—”

Y/N stepped forward, grabbed the front of his shirt, and crashed their mouths together. She tried to pour everything into the kiss: every blush, every worry, every laugh, every panicked moment, every mamihlapinatapei. Spencer cradled her face in his hands, opening his mouth and capturing her bottom lip, accepting everything she gave him. She wound one of her hands into his hair, pulling him impossibly closer and grounding herself to this new reality that almost wasn’t. The height of the kiss tapered off, and Y/N drew back, untangling her fingers from his hair and her heart from his grasp. Spencer watched her carefully, honey eyes uncertain.

“I do. Feel the same,” Y/N confirmed. Spencer’s lips twitched. “I’m not good at vulnerability. I’ve got a great track record of getting hurt.” Spencer grabbed her hand and opened his mouth, but Y/N continued, “But then I thought we might lose you, that time was out, and that I— I wouldn’t get the chance to see if you could be— if this could be more.” She gestured between them and then met his eyes again. “And I guess being vulnerable isn’t so bad in comparison. Because I think I could fall in love with you. I think maybe it’s already happening.” She held her breath and pressed her lips together, fighting the regret of saying too much.

“Actually, there’s a word for that, too.” Spencer smiled, warm and soft and genuine. “Forelsket. The origin is Norwegian, and it roughly translates to ‘the euphoria experienced as you begin to fall in love.’”

“Forelsket?” Y/N asked.

“Well, it’s more like forelsket,” Spencer corrected.

“Wow, okay, 187.” Y/N laughed for the first time in what felt like days. “Forelsket.”

“Better,” Spencer praised. “There’s also the Tagalog version, kilig.”

Y/N took a step closer to him and smoothed his shirt where her hands had wrinkled it. “Translation?”

“‘The sudden feeling of an inexplicable joy one gets when something romantic happens,’ or alternatively ‘the feeling of butterflies in your stomach.’” Spencer moved his hand to her waist and stepped over the threshold.

Y/N cupped his cheek in her hand, soothing the bruises and guiding him back to her. “Yeah. Sounds about right.”

#spencer reid #spencer x reader #spencer x y/n #spencer x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfic #dr spencer reid #spencer reid angst #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds #homoose writes

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spideymarvelws · 3 years

Note

Hi uh idk if like requests are open but if they are could you possibly do nihachu x fem reader where they’re both streamers and accidentally reveal something on stream (like one calls the other babe or something like that) and lots of teasing from the other smp members ensues? Only if you’re like comfortable :)

I tried lmaoo i’m not the best at writing for real people over fictional ones but i really liked the request so i did my best!

Main Masterlist / Add Yourself To My Taglists

Warnings : nothing but floof :), some cursing

Word Count : 1.1k

Slip Ups

Nihachu x Fem!Reader

Niki walked up behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist and burying her face in the crook of your neck. Instinctively, you put your hands on hers, leaning back into her embrace. You were busy making sure your stream setup was perfect for later and after an hour of testing and moving equipment, you were glad to be back in her arms.

“Ready for tonight?” she said sweetly into your ear, pulling away so you could turn and face her.

“More than ready,” you smiled, kissing the tip of her nose, “I just hope the audio is going to be okay,”

“I’m sure everything will be fine,”

“Let’s hope so.”

With a light giggle, Niki stepped away, moving to the small desk you kept by the door and grabbed two mugs.

“Thought we could just relax a bit before stream,” she shrugged, handing you your mug and taking a seat on the sofa towards the left of the room.

You sighed, walking over and taking a seat beside her. You let her lean into you, throwing your arm around her shoulder, squeezing her close. You put your head on hers, taking a sip of the tea she made for you.

“Yeah, we could stay like this for a bit babe,”

She giggled in response, turning to peck the side of your cheek, “Babe? That’s a new one,”

“Just trying out new things,” you bit your lip, trying to suppress the heat rising to your face.

She thought for a bit, letting the silence linger for a moment as she took a sip of her own tea, “I like it.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes really,”

You kissed the side of her forehead, pressing your lips firmly against her pink hair, making her face scrunch up cutely.

“Then I better start using it often then.”

…

You yawned, adjusting the headphones on your head after stretching in your chair. You leaned in once again, speaking into the mic.

“Okay, maybe we should’ve used dark oak…”

“Well no shit Y/n,” Wilbur scoffed, jumping down from the structure you were building and punching your character.

You crouched, tilting your head to the floor, “Well sorry for having faith in jungle.”

“That was your first mistake.” Tubbo butting in, hitting your character as well but with an iron axe.

You grunted, switching to your netherite sword and chasing the boy down prime path.

“YOU TAKE THAT BACK BEE BOY!”

“NEVER!”

Everyone else started to laugh in the call at your antics, the chat was enjoying it as well. Soon enough Tommy jumped in, chasing Tubbo along with you causing him to scream even louder.

“What the hell Tommy! You’re supposed to be on my side!”

“I’m always on a woman’s side Tubbo! Now get back here you son of a bitch and die for your crimes or I swear-”

“What do you mean crimes! What did I do!”

“You hit a woman Tubbo! Now you must lose a cannon life...”

“Since when was that a crime!”

“Since now big man! Since now!”

You noticed Niki’s character coming up in the distance. With a worn out sigh, you stopped sprinting and walked to where your girlfriend stood continuing to build her house.

“For the record, I think it looks great,” Niki said, giggling as you sneaked towards her.

You stopped in front of her, watching as the two boys kept on bickering and fighting. Passing a hand over your face you spoke tenderly, “Thanks babe.”

The call suddenly went quiet after your words. You chuckled nervously, looking around at everyone that started to surround you and Niki, all of them staring you down. In the other room, Niki was blushing. Looking at the chat in her second monitor, they began freaking out about your slip up and her reaction, making the red deepen on her cheeks even more.

“Uhhh-” you moved your arm, gesturing to the new audience, “Everyone alright?”

“What did you call Niki?” Sam asked, knowing fully well the answer.

You froze, eyes widening as you slammed your head on the desk, letting the mic pic up the loud bang. The laughs only amplified at your reaction so you decided to slide off your chair and hide under your desk, slapping your face into your hands to hide your flustered state.

“Aww, she’s embarrassed!” Wilbur snickered.

“Does this mean you both commit marriage fraud together?” Tommy cut in, laughing into his mic, “Because now i’m questioning this friendship Y/n… I can’t go to jail again.”

“Jail?! Again?” Sam exclaimed but was quickly interrupted by Tubbo

“Awwww, I think it’s sweet! Like honey from beeeeees,”

Niki laughed at everyone’s teasing, growing concerned that she wasn’t hearing your own giggles along with her. She looked at her chat again, all of them spamming to go check on you or asking if you were okay because your stream suddenly ended.

“Hold on guys, I’ll be right back,”

“Yeah, you should go check on lover girl, see if she’s doing alright,” Wilbur snickered.

“I will.” she said confidently, deafening herself on discord, switching to her waiting screen and playing ads, telling chat that she would be right back.

She walked into your room, cooing when she saw you under your desk. She walked up and kneeled beside you, gently placing her hands on yours and peeling them off your face.

“Baby?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that- fuck, I just messed everything up didn’t I?”

“No, no, no, Y/n. You didn’t ruin anything!” She reassured you, squeezing your hands in hers, “I mean... we were going to let them know eventually, now you get to say it all the time!”

“Yeah, let twitter freak out for a bit… oh god they’re going to have a field day!”

“We’ll be fine Y/n, trust me,” she passed her hand down the side of your face, letting you nuzzle your nose into her palm, “there going to love us together just as much as I love you,”

You sniffed, “That’s a lot of love,”

“Yes, yes it is,”

You smiled softly up at her, “I bet I love you more though,”

She blushed at your words, “Oh really?”

“Yes, really.”

“I don’t think that’s true,”

“Well I think it is,”

“Prove it then.”

She leaned in, brushing her lips against yours, letting you close the small gap she created. The kiss was soft and tender, your lips slowly moving against one another. It wasn't long for the smile growing on your face to break the both of your apart, grinning at each other like it was your first kiss all over again.

“Ready to get back to it?” she questioned, carefully pulling you out from under the table.

You thought about it for a moment.

“Sure babe,” you pecked her forehead, “I’m going to love getting use to that.”

...

Permanent Taglist (Dream SMP) : @ossinsworld @lunarinnit @chaosofsmarty @starstruckllamapuppy @shio-yuki @lovelychasbug @alice-blue-skies

Nihachu Taglist : @whenpugzfly

#nihachu x reader #mcyt x reader #dream smp x reader

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ironwoodprotectionsquad · 2 years

Note

Considering the name of your blog I'm just wondering if you've taken a look at lore of the Silver eyes blog and their analysis on ironwood? I did and I had to stop a quarter of the way through out of sheer rage. It's just one long list of head cannons explaining why ironwood was always evil and the moment he tried to compare Atlas to the empire from Star wars I was out.

I blocked them a long time ago but not before seeing the post your talking about. Now I will be honest I don’t remember the post too well in terms of specifics within it but I do remember feeling extremely angry when reading it. What was very frustrating about this “analysis” is that I do recall them relying extremely heavily on their own personal head-cannons regarding James and acting as if they where in reality canon. I also remember seeing them sending their post to other James haters to try and get praise for this analysis and how good and accurate it was.

Now as I said it’s been a long time since I’ve read the post and they’re buried somewhere in my block list so trying to find the post and break down where it fails is just going to take forever and maybe it might be worth it but it also may just leave me angry and pissed off and that doesn’t sound like a good time for anyone. But this does seem like a good time to talk about the environment surround James and any of his fans.

Now I joined the fndm officially only very recently. I stopped watching the show for awhile because I just got way to busy and didn’t have the time to watch much of anything if I’m honest. So it’s hard for me to discuss how the fandom was before V8, all I can really talk about is post volume 8 and the environment we are in now and how James and his character are treated. But what I’ve seen and experienced is a very weird hatred towards James and his fans.

I regularly see posts from what can only be described as James haters outright lying about what James did in earlier volumes to try and twist him into a mustache twirling villain rather then allowing him to be the morally complex and flawed character he was up until Volume 8. He is a man who made both good and bad choices throughout the series, who did morally questionable things for the greater good of humanity because he didn’t see a better option and for the most part, neither did I. He was someone who spent a lot of time suffering and struggling with severe PTSD that goes relatively unchecked by anyone around him who then turned around and blamed him for breaking from the pressure and blamed him for things they *cough*fuckingWinter*Cough* told him to do. And the mega fans ate it right up.

I have seen people claim James was manipulating Yang when he was disqualifying her from the Vytal tournament and later on when he gifts Yang her new arm, that Jacques did what he did because he knew James was a bad person who was trying to take over Atlas and he was the only one standing in James’s way, that James was trying to forcibly take over Vale from Ozpin, or more recently that he was completely useless and couldn’t do his job. If you examine the text however it’s pretty damn clear none of this nonsense is true. Plenty of people have broken each of these things down far better then I ever could but we know he wasn’t manipulating Yang because James and everyone else had no idea that Emerald made Yang see Mercury attacking her when he didn’t. James had every reason to want to be the one to talk to her from being head of security and not her headmaster so it would likely appear to be less biased to him having lost half of his body in an unknown accident so he likely felt he could relate to her and thought genuinely that it was an adrenalin rush that made her see something that wasn’t happening.

I have already discussed why the Jacques thing is just complete nonsense but I will say I would like to know the thought process of the person making the post and the mental gymnastics they went through to convince themselves that Jacques of off people was somehow the one who was genuinely trying to help people rather then just the selfish asshole the show has repeatedly shown.

The argument that James was trying to take over Vale is one I see most often which still to this day confuses me as to what made people decide this was what he was thinking. We know James is scared, we know James is the type of person who likes to keep control over the situation whenever possible, and we know he thinks very highly of his army. Now it could be argued that James liking to have control indicates a desire to take over Vale but I would disagree. James brought his army because he saw a danger, one he felt Ozpin wasn’t taking seriously. So he decided bringing his army to ensure safety was necessary in order to keep people safe. Now one flaw of the inner circle is that they seemed to have struggles with being on the same page and agreeing on what the best plan of action is. But even with this flaw, James still defers to Ozpin’s judgement and let’s him send a bunch of first years and a history teacher to investigate and when shit hits the fan because of this decision James honestly reports what happened, nothing more, nothing less. He didn’t manipulate or force the council to consider if Ozpin would remain headmaster after this incident, he didn’t take joy from it, he was doing what he felt needed to be done for peoples safety.

I have been working on a long post about the last point here, but one thing I would like to mention is that regardless of the in story arguments as to why James isn’t useless, at the end of the day, RWBY are supposed to be the protagonists. The writers are going to do things to ensure they are a. apart of the plot and b. generally taking charge of the main plot. That is kind of just how writing goes.

But even pretending James was supposed to be seen as incompetent, someone who is incompetent is NOT necessarily evil. I would even argue they generally are not evil or even trying to be malicious. Especially with James if he is incompetent (something I really do not think he is) we can see he is constantly trying to do good and help people out as best he can with what he has. He’s not this monster the writers and mega fans are trying to make him out to be, he’s a mentally exhausted man suffering from severe PTSD that our so called heroes ignored for potentially weeks.

Sorry I know I rambled on way longer then necessary for this one I just had a lot to say.

#RWDE #Rwby critical #rwby bashing #James Ironwood #Pro James Ironwood #Pro Ironwood #General Ironwood #Ironwood Protection Squad #General Dadmiral #Dadmiral Ironwood

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captainrexforever · 3 years

Text

Trials and Tribulations 1/2

Rating: T

Word Count: ~4k

Summary: The reader discovers that she has formed a force bond with her Mandalorian companion. This has some unforeseen complications during the events at the Imperial refinery on Morak.

Warnings: cannon typical violence, reader is seriously injured, mentions of blood, Dad! Fett, fluff, angst

Notes: I was planning for this to be wayyy more angsty, but I just couldn’t bear to put poor Din through any more hurt. I hope you enjoy! Don’t forget to comment if you have a suggestion or an idea.

Pt. 2

It seems like only a moment ago Din disappeared down the mountain to assist Fennec. You grab a hold of the child, thanking the stars that he has finally emerged from his trance-like state, and cradle him gently as you check over his vitals to ensure he is not injured.

Once the sound of blaster fire begins to fade, you prepare to make the trek down the mountainside as well. It looks as if the remaining stormtroopers are in full retreat, their transports blasting off from the surface in a hurry. A final explosion-wait, was that a rocket? did Din have a rocket launcher and not tell you?-wipes the ships out of the sky, and you let out a sigh of relief. Although it would be best to leave the planet as quickly as possible, you can’t resist enjoying the view for a moment. It’s been a long time since you or Mando have been able to take a break. There is always a new danger, a new threat, that compromises the safety of your small group.

A red laser bolt screams past your ear, slicing through your peripheral vision like an omen of death. You can only stand there, helpless, as you witness the bolt strike the motionless Razor Crest. The ship that has served as your home for months is suddenly reduced to a smoking crater of ash. There is a good chance that you’re in shock, and by the time you notice the dark troopers descending on your position it’s too late. Before you can draw your blaster, a droid sweeps your feet out from beneath you and you fall to the unforgiving ground, cursing as stones pierce into the skin of your back.

Mando is still running up the mountain side when he notices your body crumple to the ground, and he’s overtaken by blind rage, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he wills himself to move faster. Blaster shots ring out in the silence and his whole body seizes up in pain when he hears your screams.

You grit your teeth as you fight the pain flooding your body. There’s already blood flowing from the blaster shot in your chest and the one in your left leg, but you refuse to give in to the pain. Your fingers close around the child’s robe, struggling to secure their hold as a droid tears him from your arms. Biting back another cry of pain, you will yourself to stand, only to come face to face with the barrel of a wrist-mounted blaster.

It would have been your last breath if Mando hadn’t arrived at that exact moment. The droid standing over you wirrs in distress as a searing laser bolt catches it in the throat. With every last ounce of strength you crane your neck towards the direction of the blast, vision swimming as you register the presence of a familiar beskar-clad figure.

Din curses his poor timing as he rushes towards your prone figure. One finger is already bare, falling to your neck to check for a pulse even as the digits of his other hand connect with his helmet to activate long-range vision. The child is too far gone, he’ll never be able to reach him even if he retrieves his jetpack. His ship is nothing but a pile of ashes, the medical equipment necessary to assist with your condition lost along with the Crest. For just a second Din allows himself to feel despair, loss, anger...love. A tear rolls down his cheek, concealed beneath the beskar that shields the world from his emotions.

What is a man with nothing left to fight for?

In the next second he is back to his impassive, stoic self. He needs a plan. Fennec, where’s Fennec…

“They’ve got the baby, don’t let them get away.” She’s speaking into her comm.

“Affirmative, I have a lock.” Fett answers.

Din can feel his heart seize, threatening to break through its emotional barriers again. He can’t suffer another loss. “Stop him, I don’t want the child hurt.”

She gives him a terse nod. “Abort pursuit, disengage, do not harm the child.”

“Copy, I’ll do a loose follow, see where they’re headed.” A pause. “They’re back.” Fett’s tone is clouded in disbelief.

“Who?” Fennec questions, but Din already knows the answer.

“The Empire, they’re back.”

“That can’t be, the outer rim is under the jurisdiction of the New Republic.”

“This isn’t a spice dream. I can see the imperial cruiser with my own eyes. Heading down.”

A ship, Fett has a ship. “Tell him to hurry, my companion might not make it without immediate medical attention.” Din demands, realizing he’s taking liberties, but it’s your life on the line damnit.

“The girl’s been injured, she needs medical attention.” Fennec relays.

“Copy that. I’ll prepare the med bay.”

Din breathes a sigh of relief, perhaps this man really is a true Mandalorian. He brushes several stray hairs out of your face, grounding himself for a moment before he checks how bad your wounds are. He chokes on a breath when he lifts your duraweave tunic up slightly. There is a fist sized hole in your abdomen, and although he’s treated wounds far worse during his career as a bounty hunter, the sight of the wound of your body has him feeling light headed and nauseous. He’s spitting curses under his breath as he moves to check the wound on your thigh. It’s not much better off.

Shit.

Fett better have some damn good medical supplies on his ship, because there is no way Din is going to allow you to be patched together with machinery like the ex-mercenary currently standing to his left.

As gently as he can manage, he slides an arm underneath your torso, desperately trying to ignore the way your blood coats his vambrace and the duraweave cloth beneath it. His other arm slides underneath your legs, settling into the bend between your thigh and calf. As gently as Din can manage, he lifts you from the ground, panicking when your head lolls backwards at an awkward angle. He feels awkward, out of place, and completely unequipped to be handling a situation like this. Fennec must decide to have pity on his poor soul because she steps over to him with a knowing glance.

“I know you’re a damn good fighter, but I can’t help but notice that you’re not accustomed to holding a woman in your arms.”

It’s true, and he shouldn’t feel embarrassed, but it still makes him flush red underneath the helmet.

“May I?” She gestures towards your still form.

A possessive growl rises in his throat at the thought of Fennec carrying you instead of him.

“Relax Mando, I’m just going to adjust her positioning.”

She’s muttering under her breath, low enough that not even the microphones within his helmet can detect the syllables, but he does catch her mumble ‘what a couple of lovesick fools’. The words have his face erupting into flames once again.

Din stills pins her with a glare as she reaches for your head, tilting it up so that you can rest your cheek against his arm, right below his left pauldron. Then she takes a hold of your left arm, which currently hovers in the air, and sets it on your abdomen.

“There, I’m sure she is much more comfortable now.” Fennec finishes.

Din just nods, still half-heartedly glaring at her from beneath the helmet.

“Let’s go, I’m sure Fett has landed already.”

He nods again, gesturing for her to lead the way. His gaze falls to you and he can’t help but notice that your face is twisted in discomfort. That’s the last thing he wants right now.

“Are you certain she is comfortable?”

“Mando, stop fussing, women love to be held. It’s probably your stiff posture that’s making her uncomfortable.”

He feels like growling at her retreating figure, but resists the temptation. Instead, he drops his visor back towards your face, scrabbling for something-anything-that will help you feel more comfortable.

“It’s alright, I’m here ner verd’ika. (My little warrior) You can rest, I’ve got you. Don’t worry about the kid, we’ll get him back, I promise.”

Maybe it’s coincidence, but the moment he finishes speaking you let out a breathy sigh, the frown on your face relaxing into a neutral expression as you nuzzle further into his shoulder.

You wake up later in an unfamiliar location, startling yourself into full consciousness as you try to take in the surroundings. Tears sting at your eyes and you bite back a sob. The Crest, your home, it’s gone.

“I heard you had a rough day.”

Your gaze snaps forward towards the doorway, and you feel like crying all over again. Cara, your lifelong friend, is propped up against the doorframe. You’re not usually one for sentiment, but you open your arms as wide as you can manage, meeting her eyes as you plead for a hug. She rushes towards you, wrapping you up in an embrace so tight that you think she might crack a rib.

“You had us worried for a while. It’s been a few days.”

A few...A few days. A choked out ‘huh?’ is the only response you can manage with her arms crushing your frame.

“Sorry.” She pulls back, releasing you from her grasp. What the kriff, is she wiping a tear from her eye? “You had us worried. Your condition was so poor that you needed a blood transfusion.”

“What? That’s impossible. The chances of finding someone with my blood type within 100 parsecs are slim to none.”

“Well…”

Why is she hesitating?

“Turns out you and I have the same blood type.”

Kriffing hell! Your heart jumps into your throat. There have only been a handful of times where Din has made a dramatic entrance without practically frightening you into cardiac arrest. This is not one of them. A quick glance around the remainder of the room reveals the Mandalorian seated in a booth in the far corner.

“You frightened me half to death Mando!” There’s a spike of surprise-not your own-that tickles at the back of your brain, and the feeling leaves you a little tense.

“Well that’s not a very nice way to greet your saviour.”

“What?” You inquire.

Mando grunts at you, impassive as always. The visor of his helmet betrays none of his feelings. “I said, you and I have the same blood type.”

Beneath the helmet he’s a little worried, you’ve never asked him to repeat himself. Don’t panic, he instructs himself. It’s probably just because you’re still a little out of it after the anti-pain stim you received. That’s all. He decides to jump straight into business before his worries get too far out of hand.

“We’re going after the kid.”

You nod in response, you figured as much. A fuzzy memory plays out in the back of your mind like a worn out holotape, ‘don’t worry...we’ll get him back...promise.’

“What’s the plan?” You ask, looking to Cara.

“The kid is on Moff Gideon’s cruiser. We need to acquire the coordinates for his position.”

“Ok, whatever you need, I can do it.”

“I know,” she shoots you a grateful glance, “but we are going to need imperial help, ex-imperial help, to be specific. We’re on our way to pick up a New Republic prisoner who is serving a sentence in the Karthon Chop Fields. You might remember him, Migs Mayfeld.”

“Oh, I remember him.” Specifically, you remember wanting to dropkick him into the nearest star system for being such an arrogant bastard. “When do we leave?”

“As soon as you get your ass out of bed and get dressed.”

You sputter indignantly, hurtling the nearest object in sight-which happens to be a roll of bandages-at her head. She just laughs at you as she sidesteps the projectile and darts out of the room.

Huh, there’s that tickle in the back of your brain again. Annoyed, you scratch at your head for a second, puzzled when the sensation doesn’t go away. You decide to opt for a different tactic, concentrating on the feeling until it becomes a little clearer. It’s a sound you realize, the sound of...laughter?

Wait just a minute. Why that no good, beskar wearing nerf herder! You swing your head around, so quickly that you can hear the bones of your spine crackle in protest, and pin him with a deadly glare. Only to realize he’s not even looking at you. In fact, he’s in the process of polishing his blaster.

You shake your head, baffled. You must be imagining things. A moment later Mando re-assembles his blaster with a practiced ease, twirls it lightly in his hand, and then holsters it as he stands.

“I’ll leave you to it.”

Then he too is stepping out the door with a swish of his cape.

“Oh, and I think you’re gonna like Fett’s ship.”

By the time you open your mouth to respond he’s already gone.

“So what’s your story? How’d you and the big guy meet?”

You glance up, hoping to catch Cara’s gaze, an unspoken question radiating across your face. She nods her head subtly in silent confirmation.

“Cara and I were both New Republic shocktroopers. We grew up together, enlisted together, fought together, eventually went into early retirement together. (The last part was only mostly true, but Fennec didn’t need to know that). That’s how we ended up on Sorgan, where we met the Mandalorian. He enlisted our help in mopping up a group of raiders for a job he’d taken on. After our payment we were planning to go our separate ways, but the kid formed quite an attachment to me, so I decided to tag along with him and Mando for a bit. At the time, neither of us understood why the kid was so attached. I’m not very good with children anyways.”

Fennec nods her head as you continue.

“Well apparently, according to this Jedi that we came across a couple weeks ago, I have a connection to some magical force, similar to the child. That’s what drew him to me."

“Huh, interesting.”

“I know, right.”

Here’s the thing though. What you hesitate to tell Fennec is that Ahsoka also informed you that you possessed a special gift as a result of your connection to the Force. Although your gift had not yet presented itself, she was certain that it would become apparent in your near future.

Sure enough, after the struggle on Tython and the resulting blood transfusion, you have started to hear voices in your head. You are sure that they are thoughts, since they are often disjointed and oddly phrased. And, maybe you’re crazy, but the voices sound oddly similar to the modulated voice of your beskar-clad companion.

For example, if you concentrate really hard right now you can hear noise, not like that of an engine (because you’re on a ship), but that of a conversation. Right now the voices are chattering about...ammunition charges? You snort in amusement. That sounds like something Din would be thinking about. Fennec gives you a funny look, but you just play it off, saying that the filtered air in the ship was irritating your airway.

It makes you curious though, is it possible that he may be able to sense your thoughts as well? If you concentrate really hard on one single idea, will he notice? It’s definitely worth a try, and you’re really bored right now. Hmmm, what about a...jetpack. Ok, no response from Din. What about...beskar. Oh, that’s a good idea! After five whole minutes of thinking solely about the metal there is still no response from Din. Ugh, fine. Your obviously imagining things. Typical.

“What are you doing?” A voice echoes.

You let out a squeak, quickly cover it up as a cough, and then glare at the Mandalorian seated across from you. This time he’s looking right at you.

Fine, two can play at this game. You keep a straight face and then will your voice to travel across the space between you and into his mind. “What are you doing?”

He just stares at you and you think maybe you are still imagining things.

“Sigh.”

Oh no he did not. He did not just...just sigh at you through his mind! Why that little…

“Relax, you’re jumpy. And bored.”

If looks could kill, he would be a pile of sizzling beskar right now. “It’s not my fault you’re boring.” You huff back. And without warning he’s laughing at you through the bond. Full-hearted, chest-rattling laughter, but without the ‘chest rattling’ you note dryly, as you glare even harder.

“So that was you laughing at me earlier today! You are in so much trouble Din. Just wait until we land, we’re gonna fight this out like warriors and I’m gonna kick your ass.” That shuts him up and you are feeling quite smug about your comeback, basking in your victory for the space of a few seconds until something else starts tickling at your brain.

It’s another voice, one that is slowly growing louder, but it seems...guarded. You nudge harder, eager to solve the mystery, and the answer becomes a little clearer. It’s a feeling, you realize, a powerful feeling. As you weave closer and closer, Din’s other thoughts attempt to sidetrack you, to distract you from your self-proclaimed mission. Just a little closer...

You don’t even notice that Din’s physical body has tensed up, his hands balling into fists, telltale signs of his nerves. More thoughts whiz by you, trying to knock you off your narrow path, but you’re persistent as you trudge forward. The feeling abruptly smacks into you like the rays of a thousand suns, blinding you, and you’re gasping, suddenly ashamed of your curiosity.

“We’re here.” Fett’s voice rings through the hull, breaking your concentration for only a second, and you feel Din forcefully throw you out of his mind. He’s out of his seat in a second, making a beeline for the cockpit without throwing so much as a glance your way. You’re left to wallow in your seat as Cara and Fennec shoot you questioning glances, but you just shrug.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into him.” You offer, choosing not to elaborate on what just took place. But your blood boils. You know exactly what happened. You just ripped away the most important barrier Mando possessed. The one that guarded his heart.

The feeling you laid bare?

Affection.

You don’t even leave your seat as the others step outside to recruit Mayfeld. “Just wait until we land, we’re gonna fight this out like warriors and I’m gonna kick your ass.” You spoke those words to Din only moments ago. Now, after what you’ve done, you don’t think you’ll ever be able to look him in the face again, much less challenge him to a sparring match.

It’s not until everyone but Din and Mayfeld re-enter the hull that you realize there are only four seats in the hold. You curse your bad luck, there’s no way you are gonna share a seat with any one of these clowns. Oh sweet springs of Tabet, if you remember correctly there’s an extra seat in the cockpit. Before anyone can question your behavior, you’re rushing towards the ladder that Fett is still scaling. With a little luck, he won’t question your presence, and you might even be able to learn a few maneuvers.

Din sucks in a breath as he enters the hold once again, just in time to catch a glimpse of your back as you disappear into the cockpit along with Fett. He scowls, if Fett wasn’t such a good man, Din would probably be jealous. He takes his seat once again, except this time instead of looking up and being rewarded with your face, he’s greeted with Mayfeld’s ugly mug. There’s no way this day could get any worse.

It is only after everyone takes a seat that he remembers there are only four chairs in the hold. He curses himself over and over. He had already factored that into his original plan. The original idea was to invite you to share his seat with him after Mayfeld joined the crew. Then he would be able to bask in your closeness, your liveliness, for just a short time before his mind began to dissect the details of the mission.

He knows he hurt you earlier, unintentional as it may have been. He hadn’t meant to throw you out of his thoughts so quickly, but you scared him. If you had been allowed to peer into his emotions for just one more millisecond you might have seen his most closely guarded thoughts, the ones that keep him lying awake at night.

Within the confines of his mind he often pictures you and him, the kid, and sometimes children of your own. In those fantasies he doesn’t hunt anymore, learns instead how to be a father and a husband, a family man. The intensity of his feelings frustrate him, and rightfully so. As a hunter and a Mandalorian, any emotion he feels can easily be turned into a deadly weapon. This situation involving the kid is a perfect example of how quickly his affection can twist into desperation.

“I’ll go.”

Those two words are all it takes for you to know that Din is absolutely desperate. Mayfeld blathers on, ridiculing Mando again, so you just shut his voice out.

“Mando, I can go.” You speak up, fuming a little at the thought that he hasn’t yet offered you the mission.

“No, it’s too dangerous for you.” He doesn’t even look at you properly, gazing instead towards the juggernaut that passes.

You pin the side of his helmet with a glare. Not wanting to start a scene in front of the others, you dare to brush delicately against his thoughts, and you want to cry in relief when he immediately let’s you in.

“Din, I can go. Let me have this mission.”

“No, you barely made it out alive last time. Besides, the New Republic will recognize you.”

“I don’t care about the New Republic, it’s not like I currently hold a position of importance like Cara. I’ll be fine.”

“No, you’re not going. You haven’t even fully recovered, and there is no way you’re going if you’re not 100% combat ready.”

“You of all people should know better than to tell me what I can and cannot do. I will not, I repeat, I will not let you go in there and risk your Creed when I am perfectly capable of taking this mission!”

“My decision is final.”

Then for the second time that day, he shuts you out.

“You’re not going alone. I’m coming with you, but I won’t be showing my face.” Din announces aloud to the rest of your crewmates.

You growl under your breath, furious with his decision. You want to scream at him, ask him what exactly he is thinking, but you know you can’t. You have never been able to change his mind. Instead, you resign yourself to your allotted role, begging the stars that nothing goes wrong even though you know that is a fool's hope.

Once Mayfeld and Din are seated within the juggernaut, you and Boba prepare to split off from Fennec and Cara.

“We’ll head back to the ship while you two make your way to the ridge.” Boba Fett speaks up as he shoulders the canvas bag holding Din’s armor.

“Alright. I’ll inform you on when to begin your run.” Fennec responds.

You exchange a glance with Cara, then move to follow Fett through the forest. As you trudge back to the ship alongside Boba, numerous questions spring to mind.

“Fett, you are a Mandalorian right?”

“You could say that.”

“Why is it that you can remove your helmet and go by your real name, but Mando can’t?”

“How do you know that Boba Fett is my real name?” He questions.

Well that shuts you up.

He continues on as if expecting that response. “Mandalore has a complicated history. Often the very people who call themselves Mandalorian are not even born on the planet itself. My ancestors believed that any man, woman, boy, or girl could imbue the spirit of a Mandalorian warrior, it didn’t matter who they were or where they were born. From what I can gather, your friend was not born on Mandalore either.”

“Well, I wouldn’t really call him a friend, but yes that’s true, he mentioned it once. That still doesn’t explain the helmet thing though.” You gesture to your face as you finish your sentence.

He takes a deep breath and pinches the bridge of his nose, as if he’s dealing with an overly inquisitive toddler. “The helmet thing is harder to explain.” A beat of silence passes. “Mandalorians live in clans, as groups of warriors that are bound together by a common name and a central ruler. The clans all support different beliefs, or Creeds, as they call them. The beliefs of one clan may be wildly different from that of another clan.”

That makes sense. There is a long tick of silence, and you’re certain he is finished so you ask the one remaining question that sits at the tip of your tongue.

“What clan do you belong to?”

He obviously doesn’t expect that question. Surprise envelops his features, then it morphs into fondness. “I belong to Clan Fett.” Another pause. “Why, would you like to join?” It’s accompanied with a head tilt and a humorous tone.

You just laugh. “I don’t know if I will qualify.” It’s freeing to let some humour slip into your tone after your recent argument with Din.

“Well, it seems like you already forgot the history lesson.” He chastises you, but he’s still smiling. “Now, let’s prepare to pick up these friends of yours.” He adds, as the ship becomes visible in the distance.

Ending Notes: Originally this part was going to be much longer, but I made some changes to my original plot. I had also planned to end it on a more angsty note, but let’s be real, we want to avoid angst as much as possible. Part 2 is already written and will be coming soon, give me a follow if you don’t want to miss it!

#the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #mandalorian x you #din djarin x you #mando x reader #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin fluff #the mandalorian fanfiction #mandalorian fluff #mando reader fluff

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ecto-american · 3 years

Text

The Other Side

Phic Phight Oneshot for Kiinotasha and KC: (AU) Born a halfa and raised in the Ghost Zone by his mother, Danny struggles with his human identity when a permanent man made portal appears in the Ghost Zone.

On AO3 and FFN

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Danny never questioned his life until that man made portal spawned. He never forgot when he first saw it six years ago while playing with Youngblood.

Naturally, they were playing aliens and spacemen, Danny's favorite. Earlier in the play session, they had found it, and it was deemed part of their spaceship. It was just a metal outline, an octagon. Thick enough that they could sit, and they pretended that the limited space was the entrance. Obviously on the left side was space, and the right side was their ship. Eventually their moms called them home, and during dinner when asked about his day, he told his mom about it.

She frowned, and she asked him for more details. Having played on it all day, he described it perfectly. His mom paled, and she forbid him from going there again, but she didn't expand on why.

He saw no reason to be afraid. It was just a metal shape. There were far more dangerous places in the Ghost Zone. So the next day, he told Youngblood about his mom's weird reaction. His mom had reacted the same, but didn't say why. His dad explained that it was dangerous, but not what about it was dangerous. Danny didn't have a dad, but he was sure that if he did, he probably would have said the same thing. But neither child could get it. What was dangerous about a shape?

So they just played with it again the next day, and they lied to their moms about what they did.

Two years later, another ghost had join to make them a trio. Her name was Box Lunch, and she was honestly a lot of fun. But she was still a girl, and they didn't tell her about their secret fun location until they were sure she didn't have cooties. When they showed her, she instantly knew what it was.

"That's a ghost portal!" she exclaimed. Youngblood and Danny thought she was stupid. Ghost portals didn't stay anywhere permanently. They opened and closed at random, when the human world and Ghost Zone would temporarily merge and allow for a rip to tear. But it always mended back together quickly.

"No it's not," Youngblood scowled. Box Lunch made a face at him.

"Yeah-huh!" she insisted. "My mommy and daddy get into the human world all the time! She said some people there have been trying to make a permanent portal to here!"

"Nu-uh!" Youngblood argued. "My dad said that humans wouldn't do that, they're more afraid of us than we are of them!"

"Yeah-huh!" Box Lunch said more forcefully. "My parents were human once, they said that people constantly wanna hunt us in the human world! And that they're coming here!"

"If they're afraid of us, then why come here?" Youngblood challenged.

"What else would it be?" Box Lunch asked, crossing her arms.

"It's a weirdo ghost's lair!"

And as they bickered back and forth, Danny had remained quiet. He didn't know how to feel about any of this. His friends often forgot that Danny wasn't just a ghost. He was also human.

Not that he was a ghost who was once human, that died. He was both, and he always had been. Born that way, according to his mom, because his dad was human. Danny didn't know too much about him, and he never really thought to ask.

He knew that his name was Jack, and how he looked like. His mom had hung a photo of him in his room so that he'd know; blue eyes, black hair, with a square jaw and in a distinctive orange jumpsuit. The orange suit always reminded him of the blue one his mom wore underneath a lab coat. She said he looked just like his dad when he was in his human form, and he could absolutely see it. Though as a ghost he had white hair that he seemingly inherited from nobody, with his mom's light blue skin and yellow-green eyes. As a ghost, he matched with a black jumpsuit, though as a human, he preferred regular clothes.

Most ghosts had learned of Danny's true nature early on as the news slowly spread when he was born. They loved him and accepted him as one of them. He could go out into the Zone as a human, but it always felt weird. So he was always a ghost.

That night, as he got tucked in for bed, he decided to bring the metallic object up again.

"Box Lunch said that the big metal shape is a permanent ghost portal," he blurted out. His mom stared at him with wide yellow eyes, and so he knew that Box Lunch was actually right. "Is it?"

She sighed, sitting on the edge of his bed.

"I believe so," she confirmed. Danny sat up.

"Is that why you don't want me going near it?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied. Danny cocked his head curiously.

"But if I'm also human, wouldn't they be okay with me?" he wondered. His mom paused for a long, long time. "I'm also one of them."

"I don't know, honey," she admitted. He could tell that she did know. She kissed his forehead. "I'll talk to you about it when you're a little bit older, okay?"

"Promise?"

"I promise. Now good night, sweetie."

It was four more years before it really became relevant again. He had essentially forgotten about the unoperational portal as homeschooling, other friends, and general undead life had continued on for him and his mom.

Youngblood didn't age, since he was once human and died, and so as Danny got older, they hung out less. While Box Lunch, a born ghost, grew, he became distant from her too for unrelated reasons. Danny wasn't alone, however. For a while, he hung out with other ghosts who had died young before he met his best friend. He was a bit older than him when he had died, sixteen to his fourteen, but Johnny 13 (and his shadow) and him had almost instantly become friends and hung out nearly every day. Often his girlfriend joined them too. His mom also allowed him to keep a newly dead dog that had followed him home, that alternated from a puppy to a large hulking beast of a monster dog. Danny named him Cujo.

Ghost Writer provided lessons in the arts on Tuesdays and Thursdays for him and a few other younger ghosts, which did include Johnny and Kitty. On the other days, his mom homeschooled him in her passion: the sciences. His favorite memories were of him and his mother in her lab, doing home experiments and building a wide variety of things.

She indulged in whatever nonsense he wanted to build, which included but wasn't limited to: rock cannon, small spaceships, figuring out how they could grow potatoes on the moon like the man in the martian book did, using ecto energy to cook poptarts.

Often her friend, Technus, but better known to Danny as Uncle Nico, came by to do more of the tech-based stuff. Danny believed that Uncle Nico could do anything with technology. He was one of the ghosts that often went through the natural portals, and whenever he came back, he had something for Danny. Typically game consoles and games, but sometimes fun little useless knick knacks that Danny treasured deeply. He fixed those game consoles many times, and also showed him how to download and install cheats and mods to make them more fun.

And after a morning full of science or the arts, Danny would eat lunch then rush off to play with his friends, Cujo always on his heels.

Looking back, he never did much as a human. He had to resort to his human side to rest, or would default to it if he fell asleep. It felt weird being in human form amongst ghosts, and so he was just always a ghost. He never thought much about it, and nobody ever asked him to be a human around them. It was just how things were.

On the day he'd never forget, it was just him and Johnny. His girlfriend had opted not to come. Danny couldn't remember the original topic, but it made him remember the portal. As soon as he told Johnny about it, the two idly scratching Cujo as the dog slept in between them in puppy form, the ghost's eyes lit up excitedly.

"Dude! We have to check it out!" Johnny insisted.

"I dunno," Danny hesitated. "My mom said that I should stay away."

"Come on, it'll be sick! I've always wanted to go back to the human world," Johnny begged. "And you've never even been there, despite being half-human!"

Danny paused. Well, when you put it like that...

"Okay!" he agreed. He floated up from his seat a bit so he could untangle his legs to stand. Cujo immediately got up from his spot laying near them, tail wagging excitedly. "Let's go! I think I still know where it is!"

It had changed since he last saw it. It now had huge yellow and black doors in place of the previous blank space, and it seemed somehow bigger than he remembered it years ago. But it was unmistakably the man made portal.

Even now, he didn't get what would be too scary about it that his mom would encourage him to stay far away. It was just a door.

"This is so fucking cool," Johnny whispered as he touched the door. "Imagine...no more trying to hunt down a portal. We can just come and go as we please...seeing our lost loved ones...seeing my mom again…It's been so long...I dunno if she'd even remember me..."

Danny didn't say anything, but he did begin to think and truly wonder for the first time what his dad was like. His mom never talked about him, and he never really asked. He and his mom were happy, and he also had Uncle Nico. Was his dad kind? Did he also like science? Why wasn't he here? Did his dad even know about him?

"Do you think we can open it?" Danny asked. Cujo licked his fingers, and Danny scratched his head. Johnny glanced over his shoulder at him.

"I dunno," he admitted. His hand turned into a fist and he knocked on the door. "It seems really solid. I don't think we can just break it or something."

"Hm. Lemme see," Danny mused. He came closer, and he put his hand on the door. It was cold, and Johnny was right; it was metallic, just like the outer edge he used to play on, and it would not break easily. His finger traced the middle line of the two doors. "Hm. Maybe we can pry the door open."

"The humans made this," Johnny spoke. Danny stared at him. No shit. "No, no, I mean. Maybe you should do something to it as a human." Danny thought on this, and he shrugged. Couldn't hurt.

His transformation rings came and went, leaving him in his human state. He was just in a t-shirt and jeans today, and he stayed floating near the portal.

His hand had barely touched the portal when it opened for him.

Danny gasped in shock, jerking his hand back as it opened. Johnny had also jumped, going backwards a bit, and Cujo's fur went up as he barked. It fully opened, and he couldn't see anything but the green ooze. This wasn't anything like Uncle Nico had mentioned natural portals being like. They normally acted like a window you could see through. But it was an unnatural portal made by man.

"Maybe this isn't such a-" Johnny began, but Danny had already stepped through.

There was a weird in between area that shined bright blue that he never heard Uncle Nico describe. But in this in between, he could see exactly what the ghost had mentioned. He knew he was still in the Zone, but he could look out the portal into the human world like a window.

A man in an orange jumpsuit, with black hair that was graying, was sitting in a room that reminded him very much of his mom's lab. He was staring at the portal in confusion, likely because it had randomly opened, and Danny instantly knew who it was. He had no idea if his dad could see him, but he found himself rushing backwards, and back into the Zone.

The second he returned, he became a ghost again, and he silently began to fly away as he tried to process. Johnny asked no questions, only following, Cujo following them both.

That night, at dinner, he finally asked.

"What was dad like?"

His mom stared at him for a moment.

"Well, he was very sweet," she said slowly. "Very bubbly personality. Always went out of his way to help his friends." She smiled softly as she talked about him. "Adored fudge."

"Did he like science?" Danny wondered. His mom gave a short laugh.

"Oh boy he adored it. Not the best at it, but he had a lot of enthusiasm," he replied. "We used to do experiments together all the time."

Danny stared down at his food as he thought. He looked up to her, and he could tell that she already knew what he was going to ask.

"How come I never met him?" he wondered. She sighed.

"...He doesn't like ghosts," she replied. "Aspiring ghost hunter when I met him, actually. I was alive then. Had the same ambitions." At his shocked look, she laughed again. "I know, ironic. We had dated for about two years officially. But then...I died. It was winter, and I was driving late at night during a snowstorm. My car slid off the road, and into a river. And I died from my injuries. I found that I could disguise myself as human, and I was in denial. So I just...continued on."

"...Why?" he asked. His mom shrugged in defeat.

"I guess I just didn't want to admit that it was over. I hadn't done everything I wanted to do yet. I was still in college, and I felt like my life had been forcibly finished before it had even truly started," she admitted. "Jack had proposed, but I had declined. I was too afraid to tell him. He began pursuing ghost hunting more seriously as a profession and building weapons and portals. I found out I was having you, and he was so excited to be a dad. I began getting scared. I didn't know how long I could continue the lie. I didn't know how it all would affect you. Then the police found my car and body, and I knew I couldn't avoid the inevitable any longer. So I left. I had no clue how to face him, or even how safe you might be if we talked. Especially after you were born, and I realized that you were half ghost."

The more she talked, she more somber she became. By the end, she was sniffling a little. Guilt began to wash over him.

"Have you ever talked to him again? Like after I was born?" he wondered. She shook her head no. "How come you've never taken me to the human world?"

"I had considered it. But it's too dangerous," she explained. "Humans aren't like ghosts. If they knew that you were also ghost...you wouldn't wanna find out what happens."

"...Do you regret any of it?" Do you regret me?

She smiled softly despite the conversation.

"You were the best thing to ever happen to me," she told him. "I may have been very anxious about being alone, and how you may turn out despite it all. But you were born healthy and perfect in every way. You're absolutely the light of my afterlife."

Danny smiled back, feeling some reassurance. His mom stood up, leaning over to peck his forehead before picking up her plate. He heard Cujo scramble out from under the table, ears up in excitement.

"I think I'll finish this later," she told him. "I'm not too hungry tonight." She glanced down at the dog. "This isn't for you."

Cujo whined, following her as she put her plate in the microwave. Danny nodded, sparing a small smile to Cujo and ushering for him to come over. He slipped him a piece of chicken as his mom left.

Later that night, Danny couldn't sleep. He was too busy sorting out his rushing thoughts. He was of course still him. Nothing really changed, but there was this new growing emptiness. Danny was still Danny, but there was a whole other side to him that knew nothing about. It began to eat at him more and more. Who was this human side besides just human Danny who lived in the Ghost Zone? He didn't know.

He now wished that his mom had taken him to the human world before so that he could know. She did say that there was a risk in the humans knowing he was also a ghost, which he didn't get. The ghosts accepted him as one of their own, so why wouldn't the humans? He didn't get humans at all. And he needed to know more about them. He was one of them.

By breakfast, his mind was made up.

After an unusually boring lesson with Ghost Writer together, Danny immediately went to Johnny once their small class of sorts were dismissed.

"I have to go back." Danny couldn't breath for a moment. "I have to see what it's like. Like you said, I'm also human, and I've never been there. All my unlife, I've been a ghost, here, in the Ghost Zone. My dad's in the human world. And I need to know what it's like to be human. What it means. So I can maybe meet him one day."

Johnny nodded.

"I think I get it," he said slowly. "I'll come with you. Keep you company. I think I could pass for human pretty well, even if I have to say that I have some kind of sickly disease that keeps me pale."

Danny grinned.

"Thanks," he replied. "Come on."

It took no time at all to find the portal. Danny stared up at it, his breath once more stolen as he tried to think of a reason why he shouldn't go through it.

Nothing came to mind.

"It's okay if you don't wanna," Johnny said. Danny shook his head no.

"I have to do this," he replied. "I need to do this."

Johnny patted his back, and that was all the subconscious encouragement Danny needed to turn human and press his hand to the door. Once more, it opened. The fact that he's even able to open it made him know that this was something he was meant to do. He once again stepped through with Johnny right behind him.

#phic phight #the other side #my phics #phics #danny fenton #danny phantom #maddie fenton #johnny 13

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sk8thereki · 3 years

Text

A little drabble for Reki's birthday: A Night to Remember

Words: 1674

Summary: Reki had been alone on his birthday for as long as he could remember, his old friend being the only one who cared to remember other than his own family. This year, however, was different but not in a way Reki had expected.

Birthday celebrations had never been on the forefront of Reki's mind, with him not being one to care about his own birthday, so having to be reminded by his mother that ‘today’s the day’ upon waking up wasn't unusual for him. He knew she meant well by surprising him with a slice of cake and a kiss on the forehead, but he just couldn't find it within himself to be excited. He was happy to celebrate anyone else's birthday but his own, why? Because it reminded Reki of the bitterness of being alone. He'd always spent his birthdays with his best friend, always skating all over Okinawa and enjoying their time together, basking in their friendship and ignoring all else. They would both celebrate at the Kyan household and then go over to his house to celebrate before travelling to the skatepark and having their own little party. Just the two of them. Now Reki was alone. His mind, however, reminded him of his friends, of Langa, of Miya and of the adults they all hung out with, but he reminded himself that he hadn't told any of them that his birthday was coming up and frankly he didn't care to. Reki would rather find himself losing a beef than facing his own birthday.

Brushing off his mother with a smile and sending her out the room with a thank you, Reki set aside his slice of cake and set to getting up. His expression was anything but happy as his eyes held an emptiness within them and his smile upon waking up was all but vanished and had been replaced with a frown. He tugged his clothes on sluggishly and trudged out his door, closing it a bit forcefully and rattling the shelves and boards mounted onto his wall, he was sure something had fallen off but didn’t remember to check. He didn't care to note Koyomi's judging stare as he walked past her bedroom looking akin to an office worker who just ended a nine-hour shift. She didn't dare bother to ask about his weird demeanour, as yesterday he was acting weird too, so she just figured it was just not her problem and left him to it. It wasn't long before Reki was off on his way to school, riding along on his skateboard with his bag heavy on his back.

Reki skated past his and Langa's meeting spot, too absorbed in his own thoughts to pay notice to the fact that he wasn't there. Reki didn't want to assume the worst as his life had been better recently, but Langa wasn't even around at all the day before; wasn't at school and definitely wasn't anywhere else. Reki had made sure to visit Langa's house to see if he was there only to be waved off by Nanako, Langa's mother, as she said he's off on his own business. He'd hid his disappointment and looked elsewhere, being told by both Cherry and Joe that he hadn't been around them either. It was like he'd vanished off the face of the Earth! Either that, or just didn't want Reki around him, but Reki shook that thought off as soon as it'd come into his head. Langa disappearing the day before his birthday only made him more bitter about the fact that he was alone today, his hopes dashed and crushed. The universe always seemed to be against him in some way and always made an effort to show that, and this time it was the fact that after all this time he finally had a friend to celebrate with who just happened to have disappeared right before it. Typical. With a sigh, Reki continued to school, finding that Langa (again) wasn’t attending. Reki was bitterly reminded why he didn’t like celebrating his birthday.

School started and finished with nothing interesting happening, no one even looked Reki’s way or even knew that it was his birthday which Reki was internally thankful for – he just wanted the day to be over so he can go back to enjoying himself. Without even realising, it wasn’t just school that had passed, but the day as well. He paid no mind to his family who tried to celebrate with him and numbly opened any presents he received. He couldn’t even enjoy the irony of receiving new skater gloves that were mistakenly made blue instead of his trademark red. Langa would have smiled at that, Reki mused, a small smile making its way onto his face. Langa. The thought of him dimmed Reki’s sudden happiness and brought him right back down to his saddened self as a question weighed heavy on Reki’s mind ‘Where was he?’

Reki soon found himself in his room and away from his family, away from their happiness and away from everything that should’ve made him happy, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that this is the birthday that could have been different. Anger boiled deep within Reki as he picked up a stray skateboard wheel (was that what had fallen from his shelf that morning?) and threw it in the direction of his desk. Reki grit his teeth and forced himself to calm down, he didn’t want to have an outburst until after the day was over, he owed himself that much. It turns out he didn’t even need to make the effort to calm himself as he found his window open with a small white envelope laid neatly atop his windowsill that did it for him. Driven on impulse, Reki rushed over to his window and practically ripped open the envelope to get to the letter inside, his eyes wide and intrigued.

The letter read: ‘Reki, meet us please at S as soon as you see this, there’s a surprise there waiting for you.’

Instantly, Reki knew it was from Langa simply because of the horrendous handwriting. Stifling a laugh, Reki grabbed a spare board from his floor, opened his window up wide, skated down the ramp he’d made himself long ago and skated off into the night. Reki knew exactly where to go and which route to take after spending night after night travelling to the same secluded spot, but this time felt different. Not the type of different where it was obvious, but just different in the fact that the ‘S’ had been shut down after the tournament was held, it wasn’t to come back, so why was he invited there? Why did Langa want to meet him there after they’d already had their own beef? Reki didn’t want to dwell on it, not tonight, he’d only hoped that Langa would explain why he disappeared and why after the time they spent apart did he want to meet at night at ‘S’.

When he got there, he did not expect to be hit with five different confetti cannons at once followed by a chorus of ‘SURPRISE!’, nor did he expect himself to fall off his board straight after. So, he lay there on the ground shellshocked and blinded by the spotlights that somehow turned on? How had he not noticed the sudden light? Sitting himself up, he turned his head to see his group of friends all standing around a table decorated with foods, decorations, flowers and, of course, confetti. He shook some confetti out of his hair and stood up, a big smile on his face. Of course, his friends would pull a stunt like this and hide it from him, how could he think any different from them? Just looking at the table they’re around he can tell that the food on it had been made by Joe, the flowers brought by Shadow and the decorations by Miya. The lighting, he knew, had to be done by Cherry, who else is that good with technology that can pull off such a stunt? But that’s those five accounted for, so where was Langa? Just as he was asking himself this, a presence quickly approached him from behind and engulfed him in a hug, pulling him against their chest and resting their head on his shoulder. Reki didn’t need to look or guess to know that the person was Langa, he just knew.

“Happy birthday, Reki, I hope you’ll enjoy the private party we all set up for you.” Langa had said, his voice sending shivers down Reki’s back.

“Is this why I haven’t seen you until now?”

“Yes, I’m sorry, I wish I could have been with you but there were complications.” Langa’s tone was laced with sadness, and Reki wanted to be upset at the fact he couldn’t hang out with him until now, but he was too relieved and happy at his presence.

“Don’t be, I’m really glad that I get to see you today, I was worried about you.” And it was true, deep down Reki didn’t want to replay what had happened to their relationship when ‘S’ was still a thing. Their broken promise, their distance from one another, the pain wasn’t something Reki wanted to experience again, so he worried for what he might have done or what might have happened to either Langa or their relationship.

“Are you two going to get over here? The food’s getting cold, and I’m getting bored.” It was Miya who spoke up and Reki found himself laughing and genuinely smiling.

“We’re coming!” They both said in unison, detaching from each other and going to the table and starting their party.

When Reki returned home that night he found the slice of cake he’d put aside on his desk that his mother had given him when he woke up. He picked it up and sat himself down on his bed to enjoy it. Maybe birthdays can still be fun after all, he’d thought to himself as a lasting piece of confetti fell from a lock of his hair. This was a new era of his life, and he was going to enjoy it with them. Though, he probably should have asked them about how they knew it was his birthday.

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thoughts-on-bangtan · 3 years

Text

“Let’s BTS” asks about “I like you the most” and Jin’s reaction

by Admin 2

First of all, I want to wish you all, far away in the world of Vmin and BTS, a healthy and peaceful Easter, if you celebrate it, and a nice weekend for those who don’t! Since Admin 1 is quite busy right now and currently also participating in Camp NaNoWriMo, I (Admin 2) will take over our blog for a little while though Admin 1 will still be lurking and checking comments etc. I want to emphasize right away (you will probably notice it anyway) that I have no literary talent compared to Admin 1. I'll try to worthily “replace” Admin 1 for the time being and talk to you about Vmin and more.

Unlike Admin 1, I am not so careful with shipping discussions (and I even like them) as long as everything is done respectfully and we’re all sticking to the truth about the BTS members. I don't like criticizing other shippers because I understand that other fans may love their favorite members and ships just as much as we love Vmin or Namjin, but sometimes it’s inevitable that I have to say something.

So, I invite you to a discussion. I am open to discussion.

We got two interesting questions about “Let’s BTS” and specifically Jin’s reaction to vmin and I want to discuss them.

From anon: Hi, just wanted to see what you made of Jin’s reaction to Tae’s message to Jimin on the Let’s BTS show. I’ve seen some people say he looks so done and even annoyed with it. I can understand him looking apprehensive at first because Tae is a bit of a loose canon, but everyone’s reaction after is to laugh and smile and shout but Jin is very stoic. I’m kinda new and wondering whether he isn’t a fan of Vmin’s brand of declaring their love on national TV. Although when I think of how he behaves with Joon - I’d struggle to wonder why he doesn’t like it. Any thoughts?

From anon: Hi, I cannot believe what I’m reading about Tae on some platforms. What is wrong with people? Anyways I wanted to ask you what you thought of Jin’s reaction to Tae’s message for Jimin? I’ve started seeing people saying that Jin hates the fact they’re close that’s why his reaction was weird. I’m a vmin shipper but Jin is my bias and I can’t get my head around the fact that Jin doesn’t love them both dearly. He did look “apprehensive” perhaps but I’d say with Tae being Tae; that isn’t surprising.

In order to answer these two questions and to form my opinion on the matter, I’ve looked at the situation with regard to Jin and other members several times.

I admit that I’m surprised myself that Taehyung went this far. Actually, it's not even about the content of his words, but about the whole circumstance and the atmosphere that he created around his "confession". I don't know who added the music, whether it was a Taehyung hint or simply something the editors and PD thought of, but the whole situation and phrase gained even more "meaning" and "seriousness" through it.

I seemed as though the background music was supposed to make the moment remind everyone almost of a scene from a K-Drama (or one of vmin’s playful roleplays), but it only added to the effect of this being a serious, sincere and weighty moment instead.

Taehyung joked around by turning the table and pretending the envelope was not intended for Jimin, but this just led to an increase in the tension displayed by the members and the moment itself, and yet still Jimin was immediately convinced that he was the one for whom the envelope would be. Everyone was acting (which makes it sound like they were faking it which isn’t what I mean) like they were curious, but you could clearly see everyone's tension and nervousness, especially when looking at Jimin. Taehyung added that the contents of the card within the envelope were for Jimin's eyes only, emphasizing the seriousness and intimacy of what he was about to say. As a result, Jimin’s reaction led to uncertainty, nervousness, and at the same time an awareness of the sincerity and seriousness of Taehyung's words.

The words "I like you the most" are (on a superficial surface level) nothing big when compared to "I love you", but they still had the biggest reaction. Jimin wrote "I love you" to Suga and absolutely no one reacted nervously, everyone joined in on the declaration, and the situation was relaxed and even funny. Why did Taehyung’s words cause such reactions then? Why?

My thought is this: When the envelope was revealed to be for Jimin, it was met with tension by both members and Jimin. We all know that Taehyung can be a bit of a loose cannon sometimes, even on national television, when it comes to Jimin.

Jungkook immediately commented that "it’s about friendship", Suga laughed nervously and loudly, as if he wanted to end the situation quickly, and Jin had a serious face that didn’t seem all too positive or eager about what would happen next.I'm not going to go into Jimin's reaction here, but rather Jin’s, since that’s what the anons were wondering about.

In my opinion, Jin doesn't like situations that slip into seemingly too private matters. He is definitely the kind of person who gives up the least private information. The situation with Vmin clearly didn't suit him. And not because Jin doesn't like Vmin (because that’s simply not true), but because he knew this program would be broadcast nationally and streamed worldwide, that it would be debated, that every word would be analyzed, and most importantly, because the team that recorded the show wasn’t their own but one that belonged to KBS. Jin doesn't want anyone to have access to BTS's private life, after all he even asked the You Quiz editors to cut what he saw as too sad/depressing about his answers so clearly he thinks about and considers many such things. I think Taehyung didn't care all that much, but Jin did care.

Perhaps I will go too far in my analysis and imagination here, but let's not forget that in the near future Jin is going to have to leave for his military enlistment in the highly conservative Korean army, which holds very homophobic views. Any shadow cast on any of the BTS members (even if some of them are already suspected to be queer) can endanger Jin or make it even more difficult for him to perform his service well and safely. The suspicion that two of the members might be in a relationship with each other would make Jin an accomplice, since they belong to the same group and would lead to him also being suspected of being queer, guilty by associating basically. This is my opinion at least.

Jin is the oldest and feels responsible for BTS, much the way Namjoon does as leader, for everyone including Taehyung, because Jin is aware of the wave of hatred that will be/is poured onto Taehyung across sns after such a public statement. According to Jin, in my humble opinion, this is neither the time nor the place to take such a step in such serious manner. As long as everything was done in form of jokes and witty answers, Jin was joining in and having fun, but when it was Tae's turn his face became serious, as if to warn Taehyung. Jin knew that "Taehyung's atmosphere" could/would fluster Jimin and the entire team, and could become the subject of rumors spread by the staff that isn’t their own.

So no, Jin’s reaction wasn’t because he hates vmin or anything like that, because that’s not true on any level, but because Taehyung’s words about liking Jimin the most were perhaps too sincere for the setting they were in, raising too many brows, and that’s potentially why he reacted the way he did. After all, if you watch the 5th Muster concerts, and especially the one in Seoul, when vmin stand at the very end together, Jin approaches them and throws water at them as though to pull them out of their bubble and back into reality. All in good fun and because he simply cares a lot about them.

Also, an alternative and even more simple answer could be that Jin’s face has no relation to anything I just said and doesn’t tell us anything about what he thought about Taehyung’s words. After all in some interviews he also just sits there quietly and watches/listens to the other members and that doesn’t mean anything at all, or at least nothing negative. But since you asked for my thoughts, here they are, though they don’t have to be right.

I actually have no idea what the reactions are to this show in Korea and among the general public, but I've seen the reactions to Tae’s words across various sns, which one of the anons also mentioned so I’d like to talk about those for a moment as well.

My hair stood on end when I read some of the responses/posts about Taehyung. I never thought that people who call themselves ARMY or fans of BTS would have such opinions about any of the members. A wave of hatred literally flooded Taehyung, like Admin 1 previously mentioned in their answer to an ask.

I just wanted to cry. It shocked me how far shipping can go (literally playing with actual, living people with no regard to their own words and thoughts) that it can cause such extreme emotions in "fans". It's hard to say which is more negative and alarming for some, Taehyung potentially really having (romantic and reciprocated) feelings for Jimin, Taehyung's feelings not being for the “right” person, or the mere fact that Taehyung's feelings are for a person of the same gender.

It’s also interesting to see how deceptive some are. I don’t even mean that “Taehyung and Jimin like each other most” is ignored, which it is, but rather that those mutual feelings were manipulated to twist them into a completely different direction and to another person, or turned into mere jokes or sarcasm. As if all of this simply never happened.

On the other hand, the fact that Jungkook unbuttoned his shirt before going on stage for “My Time”, as opposed to him not doing so during rehearsals, has become very important and an example of J*k*ok being in a relationship, how that’s now even clearer than ever before and is an indisputable fact, according to shippers. Apparently, J*k*ok were flirting with each other throughout the entire segment and show and only had eyes for each other. Somehow Jungkook imitating Jimin is the final piece of evidence to prove everything shippers ever claimed and thus, according to them, everyone must now see that they love each other romantically.

I've carefully watched this show three times, this particular segment and everything else too, and frankly I haven't seen anything that could be called anything even close to flirting when it comes to the two main ML ships. I'm mature and I think I know what flirting is and I can “read” the simplest human behavior, but I really couldn’t see any of it. In my opinion, Jungkook imitating Jimin is clear and open and not a secret. I fully understand Jungkook, I would also follow Jimin in his place :-) Jimin's dancing and looks, as well as his professional work ethic, are truly breathtaking, inspiring and worth imitating. However, this has absolutely nothing to do with romantic affection or a romantic relationship between them, in my opinion.

Hence, I fail to understand these behaviors which in turn lead to a wave of hatred against Taehyung and the, repeated, disregard, belittlement and erasure of Jimin’s and Taehyung’s friendship and relationship bond, and even some going as far as pretending anything vmin was simply not there at all just to make their ship seem more real, booo.

#BTS #vmin #Jimin #Taehyung #Seokjin #Let's BTS #answered ask #answered by admin 2

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