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saiidahyunie · 27 days

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red or black

kim dahyun x f!reader

synopsis: two colors, two instances, two sides.

warnings: smut ; thigh riding ; strap-on usage ; degrading ; some praise ; reader giving/receiving ; dahyun giving/receiving ; switch dynamic? ; some sub/dom discovery? ; mean dahyun ; sahyo pairing ; small datzu crumbs ; not proofread (latter half of this was written on my phone :P)

a/n: finally on spring break! more dahyun content from me as always :)

in vegas, they say the house always wins.

when it comes to rolling on the roulette wheel, there are only two outcomes: red or black. a winner and loser. you either win it all or walk away empty-handed.

red and black however, can be applied to many things; in the context of opposites, a battle between two clashing egos, two different colors, contrasting ideals or philosophies. or better yet,

a safe word or preference that’s used in the relationship between you and dahyun.

it first started out to be more of an experiment of sorts. limit testing the possible theory of how one would handle the other. an interchangeable dynamic, the good ol’ switcheroo. dahyun was the one who was forward with the idea, you being hesitant because at the time you didn’t figure out what things you liked/not liked in the bed, turn ons/offs, or anything that wasn’t limited to a degree for that matter.

“so? what do we think?!” dahyun asks you one night out of the blue, laying on your thigh while sitting on the couch.

“what do i think?” you say, “i’m not sure, dubu. i don’t know how i feel about the whole…well…you know.”

“but it’ll be interesting!” she beams, sitting upright on her knees and eyeing you like a little kid waiting for their toy. “besides, sana has been telling me to check out some of the different categories that she’s been experimenting with jihyo and momo.”

“well dahyun,” you reply back at her enthusiasm for curiosity. “it’s still all new to me…” voice trailing off as you try to scan around the living room, not willing to meet dahyun’s eager eyes. “i would consider it but i’m just worried about how it’ll affect our relationship going forward.”

dahyun presses a comforting kiss to your cheek, embracing you with her infectious bubbliness that even makes the other girls fall a little bit more in love with her when it comes to hanging out in a group setting. this side of her was more reserved for you, exclusively.

“trust me,” she starts. “the sex that we’ve been having is good, amazing, just—you can probably describe it more better than i can.” you can’t help but laugh at the countless nights and endless times you found yourself sunk to your knees, kissing every single parts that you know all too well at this point, worshiping the wonderful body created on dahyun to your liking.

“this won’t be any different, just a new approach to having fun!”

“you and i have two very different definitions of having fun.”

a brief pause hangs your tongue, pressed against the inside of your cheek while you’re staring at the simple (but deadly) smile dahyun offers. considering, and you might still ponder this at different times but until then, you say,

“alright. i’m in.”

dahyun lunges forward for a hug, nose nestled in the underside of your neck where your jaw meets and lips tickling the area below it, humming gleefully.

“thank you, y/n. really.” she replies, giving you a quick peck before she swipes her laptop off of the coffee table, clicking on the keyboard and tapping to an open tab for you to see what she was talking about. “now i just want you to skim through this website for me, and answer this. what color would you like to be?”

—

(so that’s how it begins, to some sort of extent. for anyone that’s curious enough to even bother ask about a backstory, here it is:

the connection with dahyun really just came out of nowhere. you stumble into a new class that was heavily focused on group work. typically, momo was the first person that you would try to spot out to save yourself from the trouble of hitting the usual checklist of icebreakers that make you on the inside cringe from embarrassment.

luckily, the social butterfly that minatozaki sana was, swooped you in before the professor could even say a word to you.

she brings you to this small huddle of about 4-5 people, the list as follows: park jihyo (her girlfriend), miyeon (the day one bestie and also her other ‘girlfriend’), myoui mina (the rich, cool girl that appears used to being approached by all the top modeling agencies given with her appearance).

and lastly, dahyun. who was more of a wildcard in the grand scheme of things (or so you thought.)

brief introductions are shared; getting to know the basics of favorite song, food place, boba order, and a superficial hint of what they like in a girl is all being bounced around while you catch yourself stealing glances between you and dahyun all throughout the class activity. small talk was the first wall, but once that was over, everything that followed seemed to come along as a breeze.

you’d have to give credit to sana though, playing the role of matchmaker to speed up the process.

eventually, from moving through the ranks of acquaintances to friendship to calls and texts sent back and forth between each other. waiting after class and getting a quick bite at the nearest cafe cart brewed towards “something more.” few dates follow more frequently, and you have the courage to pop the golden question to dahyun one friday night before heading out to the club (we already know what the answer is so why bother telling it?)

a month passes, then a few months after. which brings us up to now. that’s it, nothing more.)

—

the first instance that comes is red.

dahyun was finishing up her studies while living on campus in one of the nearby dorms. you lived in one of the nearby apartments that was only a few minute drive and around the corner, so distance wasn’t really a big problem for either of you.

it’s nearing the end of the semester, and people are cramming everything into their books and laptops in the last corner of the academic year. cafe’s are being filled up, counselors are giving last bits of advice to students who need it, and dahyun has no issues with her classes whatsoever.

speaking of issues, there was one slight problem: you were kinda banned from seeing your girlfriend.

while jotting down notes on the desk, dahyun looks at her phone that had a few notifications from you that were images of smol cats doing random activities. the last message you sent was about what to eat for a study break. dahyun gave you a few options that were around campus and there was a nearby food spot close to her dorm, anything to get closer to her even if you were put on unnecessary suspension.

she gets startled when there’s a sudden sound coming from outside of her fire escape on the second floor, opening the curtains to see a black silhouette squatting down to match the level of the window. the eerie presence puzzling her for just a moment before she sees a light shine on a face.

you.

without a moment’s hesitation, dahyun opens the window for you while the hood is unsheathed from your head. there's a shuffle around the small space in the middle lane with both ends occupied by two beds, but dahyun closes the window, raising the lamp upward facing the ceiling before returning her gaze to you.

her eyes see you sitting on the edge of her bed, legs crossed over and both hands in the pocket of your hoodie. the thicker clothing on top of the hoodie was a leather aviator jacket that made it look like you were right straight out of that one top gun movie, but you lean back slightly, never changing your upright position.

“sorry to scare you like that, hope you were on your study break.” you say with a low tone tilting your head towards her, patting down the open space next to you on her bed.

“are you crazy?” dahyun asks you, ignoring the sudden heat flushing through her cheeks as she makes her way towards you, patting down her thigh to ease her bit of nervousness. “you know you’re not supposed to be here, even when yunjin said—”

“she says that, but doesn’t mean it.” you reply, taking off your aviator jacket while dahyun sits next to you, putting a leg over and letting her arms fall on your shoulders. “besides, her and i just had a small…disagreement.”

dahyun arches a brow while you’re flashing a gooey smile, smirking after when you’re tapping her knee cap over your leg. “uh huh.” she says, remembering the little bust up with your team captain yunjin at lacrosse practice at the beginning of the week. since she was dahyun’s roommate, it was more of a lenient punishment because of the overcompetitiveness almost affecting the team. so, you weren’t allowed to see dahyun until the whole ordeal blew over, knowing that you wouldn’t listen—here you were in her room.

“well, i guess you can stay for a bit.” dahyun says, “i still have to review before yunjin—”

“she’s not coming back.”

“what? why?!”

“yunjin’s hanging out with kazuha and chaewon. my best guess is that they’re just talking about some lacrosse team stuff, nothing too serious.”

you lean your head on dahyun’s shoulder, fingers tracing along the perfect skin on her thigh, just stopping right before her ass. giving a quick look with the eyes, you smack your lips, “don’t tell me you’ve been studying here all day, have you?”

“well– i– i mean…”

sighing out confirming the suspicion, you lift dahyun’s leg, shifting it over yours, and she’s straddling your lap—her arms never moving on your shoulders once she’s all settled in. “since you’ve been hitting the books while i’ve been napping, why don’t you tell me what you’ve been going over so far?” hand moving along the underside of her thigh, you take the hint that she’s not wearing any underwear beneath her shorts. “sleeping for a bit would be a perfect solution for you over that reading that you’re always doing.”

“you don’t want to hear what i’ve read.”

“just like, one thing. for me dubu?” you ask, hand on her hip, lightly moving dangerously close to the growing wet spot between her legs.

dahyun knows that she’s being worked over with the amount of short, hitched breaths being let out in frequent succession. “i was just reading about– fuck, how w-we as humans are more prone t-to be more impatient in psycholog- baby that’s–”

“hmm,” you hum with your moving hands on her hips, looking up at your flustered girlfriend riding you, dahyun trying to neglect the friction and growing heat very poorly. “patience huh. maybe you could teach me a thing or two about that more, right?”

all you hear is a small whine being sounded while you’re smiling, dahyun’s face looking a little more out of it with her slacked jaw, eyes half-lidded and nearly closing. “think you can teach me some patience baby?” hands continuing to move at a consistent pace, dahyun’s clit rubbing against the fabric and your leg making her twitch slightly, the sensation now rising up throughout her body as time passes.

“y-yes, but–” her words are jumbled up agaisnt her teeth. “i wanted to see you…”

“i did miss you too, honey, and i'm right here, don't worry.” your voice is a bit deeper now, continuing to roll dahyun’s hips on your leg while she clutches the hood of your jacket more tightly. “maybe you can shower me with a few compliments, to get your mind off of studying for a bit.” you whisper in her ear as you carry on moving her hips back and forth.

dahyun’s moans coming out of her leaves you in pure adoration, sputtering different aspects of you that you’ve heard before, not while she’s rocking on your leg to the point where the sentences are sounding more run-on than usual. the small mumbles of god- please- more- yes- followed by more yeses. you can feel the wetness seeping past dahyun’s shorts and onto your sweatpants.

“my baby’s working so hard in school, she deserves to have a nice break, hmm? all of the other girls wishing they were in my place with you riding my leg like this?” you say into her chest, leaving feathery kisses to the upper profile below her clavicle.

“y/n– you’re– shit, so fucking– god– the way you speak to me like t-that,” she tries to say to you, head dipping down near your collarbone, speaking nonsense. “i love- everything about y-you baby. the way your hands– fucking fuck me up so good–”

“there we go pretty.” you say, nicking her chin up so that you can meet her eyes, adjusting your leg slightly by lifting it higher to make it look like she’s sliding down. her pants are making you lackluster, dark, the struggling breath riling you up as well the more she’s trying to stay upright on your leg.

“i can feel you close for me dubu, you wanna cum just like this? grinding on my thigh until you fucking get off?” you’re gripping the back of her neck with your left hand while the right one rolls her hips more into you.

“s-so fucking close, god. y/n, baby—”

“shhh,” you comfort her, “you’re gonna look so good cumming for me baby. let it go, i’ll take care of you. i always do.”

dahyun lets out a whimper of appreciation when you’ve given the go-ahead, the grip on her ass becoming more tight as the slick coming out of her leaves your leg completely soaked. she has her arms around your neck now, closely, allowing your free reign to leave nibbles across the unmarked canvas of her throat while she’s moaning in your ear, causing you to grunt from the infectious lust growing between you two.

“cum for me baby. i need to hear it, need to feel it.” you growl, bruising her skin.

she hears your voice down her ear, and it’s all too much. your large hands clutching to her waist. dahyun lets you have your way with her body, riding out the chain reaction of whines and moans and all sounds of the pleasure that consumes her, the sensation of her cumming to the point where she’s reduced to whimpering into your hoodie.

you steady the pace soon after, short exchanges of breaths are now filling the room as dahyun slowly grinds her sopped, worked core, still wanting more, but that’s for later.

“stress relieved?” you ask, smiling against her warm face. you can feel her breath tickle your neck as she lets her hands roam across the plane of your back. sometimes you’re still in disbelief that this woman you love has a near perfect waist the way your hands just link around it so easily.

“i-i should go back to studying,’ dahyun answers. “but i do feel better y/n, thank you. ”

“i have a new idea.”

dahyun is then flipped over the bed, shorts now discarded exposing her swollen pussy lips to you, taking off your hoodie that shows a sports bra that made your breasts appear even larger—and dahyun can’t help herself to stating, biting her lip at the potential site for more marks to be made.

“we should study each other’s bodies again, deal?!”

you wonder if you can hear dahyun swallow the moment you dive down for her again.

—

the second instance, black, comes a bit later and completely out of nowhere.

you’re not even prepared for what was about to occur.

to bring it up to speed: you’re shit-faced drunk. mumbling and humming noises that sound like a boxer in a comatose state. the pattern on the floor looks familiar—giving an indication that you were at your apartment (or at least on the way back).

dahyun was hobbling your wasted ass back into your apartment, hands and legs clearly uncoordinated, stumbling and propping up on anything that was in close proximity around the place with her carrying you back into your room, carelessly tossing you on the bed while she slammed the door harshly behind her.

you may or may not have had some -too many- shots in your system, the count already lost a while back—the more apparent elephant in the room is brought back to you when dahyun clutches your shoulders, eyes filled with rage, sitting you straight on the edge of the bed.

“what in the fuck were you thinking!?” she asks you, clutching the delts of your body with an iron grip, your neck keeling your head over causing dahyun to rake your hair in pulling back up, her hand now clutching the collar of your shirt that reeked of the booze you mindlessly spilled on you while drinking. “you’ve gotta be out of your mind for kissing my ex in front of me earlier.”

“who? oh! you mean tzuyu?!” you say, speech slurred, giggling at the sentence passing through your lips. “shit, i musta forgot, silly me—”

dahyun’s hand is quick around your neck, stopping your act and letting the proper thought of rationalization combating the effects of alcohol in your brain for a slight second, airflow halted with a harsh choke, tongue reeling back into your throat the more her fingers gripped around it.

“my fucking ex.” dahyun seethes out, grabbing your cheeks and leaning in closer against your cheek. “you crossed the line with that one.” she pushes you away, slipping off her jacket that revealed a black compression shirt underneath, the hints of muscles here and there from her arms to her shoulders.

she paces around in front of you, strategizing what to do with you while you sit there with hands fiddling with the end of the comforter below you. your heart is racing from the impending rage that was unraveling, wondering what dahyun will do next. the way she’s not even making eye contact from your lowered position makes you look up like a pleading child asking their parents for something.

keeping yourself together like this was near impossible, not when dahyun looked so good with this kind of attitude, something that momo and the others have said they were afraid of, but not you.

“where is it?”

“what!?”

“don’t make me repeat myself.” dahyun says sternly, pulling on the peak of your chin, “show me where she left it.”

“i don’t know what you’re—“

“the fucking hickey, y/n. show me where she marked you.” her tone sending a shiver down your skin while you tried to resist the urge to squirm under the touch. “you’ve already got me with your little stunt this morning, but you’re not getting away a second time.”

you and dahyun hardly fight over something in the relationship. most of your arguments are just disagreements that didn’t really spell anything too serious. this changed when dahyun turned down your imitations for sex three times because of a dumb mistake you did (not worth remembering what it was because the punishment was worse than the supposed crime).

after those failed attempts, this made you snap on the inside. satisfying the high sex drive you had was the only thing in your head, and you were gonna do whatever it takes, even if it has to make dahyun completely lose control. kissing her ex tzuyu that you saw at the party earlier was the last push that you needed, making eye contact with her in the crowd while you were smacking on the girl’s lips and letting her mark you front of dahyun.

the second reminder comes back, you edging out dahyun while she was getting ready this morning for an important meeting with one of the clubs that she was a high ranking board member in, the hushed curse of your name being moaned out while you relentlessly pounded and licked up her helpless cunt, her fingers raked around your head when you perched her on the bathroom sink. she didn’t want to give in to the pleasure, but she does, always does.

once you left her high with no release, you were sure that dahyun wouldn’t go throughout the day without having a single thought about you. in a doubled down effort, you sent her pictures of yourself in underwear at different times during her schedule to ensure that the thought would stay fresh in her mind. needless to say, it worked.

“clothes off.” dahyun says. “don’t make me repeat it a second time.”

all you did was just shake your head, dahyun lets out a ‘tsk’ slapping you in the face, forcing you to look away with one eye closed, cheek stinging from the contact of her hand.

“baby,” calling you while she soothes the light red mark on your cheek with her thumb. “show. me. the. mark.”

you comply, pulling the collar of your shirt to show a stark red hickey across your collarbone. dahyun sighs out while looking down, pressing the bridge of her nose before muttering something to herself. along the lines of what a fucking idiot you were.

dahyun’s strength surprised you at times and before you even knew it, your back was against the headboard of your bed, staring up to the ceiling while she slid off your pants. hers also came off, hand trailing up your leg to the seam of your panties, noticing a hint of wet in between the threads.

“you’re fucking wet? wanted to see me being rough with you? fucking little slut’s enjoying too much of this.”

you’re whimpering when she’s leaving more marks up your neck, holding both of your wrists. thighs rubbing together of built up sexual frustration that you were the catalyst in creating, but the thought and lust filled aura dahyun was possessing blinding you with delusion that you’d get what you want.

“dahyun…please—“

“now you’re begging?!” she scoffs out, snickering while she holding your face up again. “some audacity you have, bitch.”

you feel dahyun’s fingers hook on the elastic of your panties sliding off, then nails moving upward on your legs. in a futile attempt to wiggle out from dahyun’s touch, she stops herself, gets up from the bed and walks over to a corner in your room to grab something. she pulls out a box in her hand that makes your eyes roll at what she has.

the throbbing sensation rises between your thighs, closing your eyes again, brows knitting together from the euphoric false belief that dahyun would let you off easy.

a shift of weight in the bed presents itself when you open your eyes again after a few moments, the sight alone makes your cunt throb and your heart quicken.

she has a purple silicone strap-on. the one that you bought with your own money about two weeks ago to use on dahyun—-the first proper use of it being on you now.

dahyun shifts towards you on the bed. compression shirt now boldening with tense muscles and her underwear was off replaced with the plastic cock, unsure of what do with it, but clear of who to use it on, straddling your waist again before scorching up to your chest, the tip lightly poking your chin.

“spit.”

ever the good listener, you spit on the plastic tip, dahyun lightly stroking it lightly to get the saliva around the shaft more.

“suck.”

the commands are coming simple and easy, the only thing you’re able to do is just follow and submit, opening your mouth to let the purple tip in, lightly bobbing just past the tip while dahyun supported the back of your head with her hand, pushing you to go a bit deeper each time.

“so pretty with a cock in your mouth, even better when my slut is taking mine.” she laughs out, pulling away to slap her cock on your wet, pouty lips. you’re looking at her with pleading eyes, stroking your cheek again, dahyun drinking in the sight of you being like this for her.

she slaps it on your mouth a couple more times before moving off, leaving you harsh kisses from your lips down to your neck, to the chest, down to the waist, and—

“please, just fuck me. let me have— i just want you.”

dahyun seems to understand what your desires are, pulling you from the hips so that you’re laying on the bed now. parting your legs wider to put herself in the middle, teasing your folds with her cock slightly slapping it before slipping inside just past the head—the sound that leaves your lips is so low, breaking.

you’re clutching onto her wrists as she’s bruising your skin at the hips with her nails. the tightness too hard to bear when dahyun sinks deeper, flushing the whole plastic toy inside you.

“o-oh my fucking god.”

she pulls out and snaps her hips back in, leaving you no time adjust. a few locks of her hair falls over her forehead as she gets picks up her pace, the tempo gradually increasing until she couldn’t contain herself, going all the way—full send.

“w-wait babes, sta—nngh! fuck—it hurts…”

the slick sound of your fucked pussy on top of the symphonic tones of your breaths and moans combined fill up the room, fulfilling the fantasy that you’ve dreamed of doing to dahyun, almost.

“i don’t care if you’re in pain, not when i see a slut get frisky with my fucking ex.” she’s having fun with this also, taking out the frustrations and anger that you created throughout the day earlier.

dahyun puts in two deep strokes into your cunt, causing you to arch your back from the pleasure, before pulling out and flipping you over, raising your hips to match hers before inserting inside again.

the pace of thrusts pick up again, dahyun’s hips now meshing with your ass perfectly. holding at the right angle to as she continues to pound and pound and pound and pound—

“does it hurt, baby? the way my cock is taking your slutty pussy like you deserve it hm? wanting me to fuck you like this for so long?!”

from you, barely, “god, yes.”

she then pushes you deep into the comforter, mercilessly thirsting to no end at the new angle to take you deep. the throaty moans and fucked out sounds getting to the best of you, clamping down her strap more and more as dahyun runs a hand through her hair—you imagine her doing it the same way that’s just insanely hot from the simple action.

“i wanna hear you say it bitch. who am i to you?” she’s growling over the nape of your neck and into your ear, never letting up her speed.

you’re half-sobbing-half-growling into the sheets, gripping onto the pillows for dear life, brain too far gone to answer right away.

“ah—mmph y-yours, fuck i’m all for you.”

reveling in the vibration of skin to skin contact, the both of you are nearing exhaustion. the way that your hips are shaking beneath dahyun as she pounds all of the noises she likes out of your pretty little mouth.

“fuck-you’re so perfect like this. i can see you getting close—“

you’re yelling into the soft cushion of the pilllow, dahyun not amused at the act of playing it safe. she pulls you by the hair, lifting you upright with her, the strap becoming more and more difficult to move as you’re clenching hard around it.

“don’t shy away from me, slut.”

you liked the idea of being dominated, and that was the apparentness being brought clearly in this moment. dahyun had times where she got protective/possessive with certain things, but this was a brand new avenue that you probably prefer than previous occasions. to be fucked through with no remorse as she shoves your head back into the sheets, leaning over when you’re at the highest point of the night.

“da-fuck, please harder- fucking, ‘m gonna—cum—shit. baby god—don’t sto—“

“cum all over this cock baby. i’ll take care of you. i always do.”

the sentence alone was a silver-lining, and a daunting parallel.

“dahy—ah!” you cried out as dahyun fucked you through your (deserved?) orgasm. pleading and babbling and begging while you feel your body shut down, half drunk after being used.

dahyun slows her pace, hips bucking with every lethargic stroke, sliding the silicone cock out of your fucked cunt while she leaves light kisses down your back. she massages your red-marked ass while you just hum in satisfaction against the mattress.

you roll over on your back, the soft sounds and breaths matched with the simple movement of the lungs. in, out. in, and out. dahyun tosses off the wet slick strap, tending to your care with kisses and glances of love now shown—the possessive aura washed away completely.

just before your vision fades to black, she helps you lift your shirt up slightly, kissing down your body to the sensitive area between your legs. but before she does that, she goes back to your face one last time, planting a kiss to your cheek before whispering,

“my messy girl, let me clean you up.”

summarizing, we’ll leave it off with this: caught with a red flag at the party, blacked and fucked out by the end of it.

#hyunie #twice x reader #twice imagines #dahyun imagines #twice dahyun #kim dahyun #dahyun x reader #kpop smut #twice smut #kpop imagines #twice x you #dahyun x you #kim dahyun x reader #dahyun smut

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jaynovz · 8 months

Text

In discussions about the finale of Black Sails, one of the things I often see is folks hard-focusing on Flint's fate, in an either-or binary fashion, usually presented as "Which do you believe-- that Silver killed him? or sent him to the plantation?"

Now, for posterity's sake, gonna mention a few things-- first off, that's simply not thinking broadly enough. There are farrrr more than two options here and I've come up with my share of the reallyyyyy bad ones for sure. Whatever your mind chooses, none of those are happy endings anyway, there are bittersweet, bad, and worse endings all the way down. (They are paused, they are in a time loop, and also all endings and no endings are happening simultaneously)

But also, the more cogent point is that, it doesn't actually matter what happened *to Flint* The story is... not actually about him at that point. We have transitioned from Flint as protag to Silver as protag, setting up for (the fanfiction that Black Sails has ended up making of, ugh, king shit) Treasure Island.

And so, I just, don't find it to be of particular interest exploring what we think Flint is actually doing or if he's alive for real. What is EXTREMELY interesting to explore though is how Silver's speech at the end to Madi is sort of giving Thomas back to Flint as a pacifier/comfort object, but how... Silver is giving Flint that thing in his own mind as his own type of pacifier/comfort object.

That's the REALLY chewy bit. What actually happens to Flint is not the purpose of that scene for me, of Silver's recounting of events to Madi. It's more about... projection. It's about how Silver is dealing with whatever happened to Flint/whatever he did.

And I just feel like it's missing the point to focus so hard on if Flint is alive or not.

He is the ghost of the story regardless, that's what's important. He's going to haunt the narrative for the rest of everyone's lives. No one has been untouched or unscarred by coming into contact with Captain Flint; he has a forever legacy. I'm not the first to call him this, but he's Schrödinger's Flint and he's staying that way.

But this?

"No. I did not kill Captain Flint. I unmade him. The man you know could never let go of his war. For if he were to exclude it from himself, he would not be able to understand himself. So I had to return him to an earlier state of being. One in which he could function without the war. Without the violence. Without us. Captain Flint was born out of great tragedy. I found a way to reach into the past... and undo it. There is a place near Savannah... where men unjustly imprisoned in England are sent in secret. An internment far more humane, but no less secure. Men who enter these gates never leave them. To the rest of the world, they simply cease to be. He resisted... at first. But then I told him what else I had heard about this place. I was told prominent families amongst London society made use of it. I was told the governor in Carolina made use of it. So I sent a man to find out if they'd used it to hide away one particular prisoner. He returned with news. Thomas Hamilton was there. He disbelieved me. He continued to resist. And corralling him took great effort. But the closer we got to Savannah, his resistance began to diminish. I couldn't say why. I wasn't expecting it. Perhaps he'd finally reached the limits of his physical ability to fight. Or perhaps as the promise of seeing Thomas got closer... he grew more comfortable letting go of this man he created in response to his loss. The man whose mind I had come to know so well... whose mind I'd in some ways incorporated into my own. It was a strange experience to see something from it... so unexpected. I choose to believe it... because it wasn't the man I had come to know at all... but one who existed beforehand... waking from a long... and terrible nightmare. Reorienting to the daylight... and the world as it existed before he first closed his eyes... letting the memory of the nightmare fade away. You may think what you want of me. I will draw comfort in the knowledge that you're alive to think it. But I'm not the villain you fear I am. I'm not him."

This is the speech of a man who is self-soothing, who is spinning himself a tale, who is projecting, who is coping.

and THAT is just, way chewier, innit?

#Now that's just from a canon point of view #once we start to delve into like fan fiction #Because fic must necessarily change the story and change canon because it's creating something new #so of course then figuring out what you want to do with flint post canon is necessary #but for me fanfiction is a different realm than canon only based meta conversations about the show #black sails meta #long post #black sails #john silver #james flint #thoughts #black sails spoilers #I was coaxed into writing my group chat meta into a post by the Committee mwah

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brodieland · 2 months

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.˚ 𓈒 ࣪.𝝑𝝔 Spidey Valdez !! ´ˎ˗

Spidey!Leo Valdez x Fem!Poseidon!Reader Synopsis: Your boyfriend Spiderman, or Leo Valdez, took a break from saving the city to eat with his girlfriend. Word Count: 1110 A/N: I hope it doesn't show to hard that Ive never watched Spiderman.. or read hero's of Olympus.. PART 2

Y/N Jackson was a child of Poseidon, along with her twin brother, Percy Jackson. They were known for embarking on dangerous adventures. These include, but are are not limited too, the underworld, Mount Othrys, and the Labyrinth. Safe the say the two of you making it out alive proves how extraordinary the both of you were.

Though, were you experiences even considered cool when you learned what your boyfriends secret identity was? Well, yes they most definitely were, but still.

Your boyfriend Leo Valdez, on top of being a child of Hephaestus, was in fact Spiderman. Yes, that guy who swings from building to building with webs in his red suit. That, may you add, fits him very nicely. When he's not swinging through the streets of queens solving issues or working hard in the Hephaestus workshops, he was swinging through the streets of Manhattan looking for his lady, Y/N, to spend time with.

You were currently sitting in your bedroom, doing some last minute homework by your window. It was Saturday night, and most kids would've been out hanging out with their friends, but you were grounded after getting suspended at school. Your mom understood the troubles but it wasn't demigod trouble so she didn't let it slide this time. While of course, you could've snuck out through the fire escape your window leads out to, you may or may not have been expecting a secret little visitor.

You were sitting at your desk. You were supposed to be doing your English homework, but of course your dyslexia made it kind of hard, so you just resorted to staring out the window. You were people-watching, and before you knew it, a white string zoomed right past you and connected to your building. You stood up from your chair so quick it almost swung and fell backwards, and before you knew it a boy in a bright red suit landed on your fire escape.

When he landed he quickly pulled off his mask, revealing his dark curly hair and the mischievous grin you love oh so much. You stood there admiring him for a second before Leo starting pointing at your window, causing you to scramble and slowly open it, doing your best not to make much noise, and slid your self outside. As you regained your footing, you quickly grabbed Leo's face and pulled him into a kiss.

"Hey there" Leo grinned. You noticed he had his hand hiding behind his back.

You crossed your arms and raised your eyebrow. "Whatchu got back there?"

"Oh." Then Leo pulled out two medium sized brown bags and handed one to you. "You mean this?" You slowly took the bag and looked inside. You gasped, it was Shake Shack and you were starving.

"You got us Shake Shack."

"Thought we could eat together, never to busy helping out my city to eat with my girl." Leo said as he took a seat on a step, you shortly following him and sitting beside him.

"And you remembered my order, what a dream."

"Of course I did, you think I'm a rookie at this?" you busted out laughing at him. "Anyways, not that I'm not glad you were here, but its Saturday night, why are you home?"

"Oh right I haven't told you yet. I'm grounded." Leo looked at you confused.

"Grounded? Since when do you get grounded?"

"Since I got suspended from school yesterday. 10 days." Leo choked slightly on his burger.

"Yo what? I miss ONE day of school. What'd you even do."

"First of all, you miss a lot of days." Leo just rolled his eyes before you continued. "And it wasn't anything crazy, just the usual."

"Nah nah, please tell me what the 'usual' is."

"I pulled a little prank. It honestly wasn't anything crazy and those girls deserved it." You paused for a second. "And no snakes were harmed in the process."

"SNAKES? I can't believe I missed out on this what." Leo stared wide-eyed at you.

"All I'm saying is, those girls should start, whats the word, showing interest, to another guy" you smiled a Leo, your boyfriend, and crush of the girls who got on the bad end of your snakes.

"Aw you threw a bunch of snakes at girls who thought I was hot." Leo fake pouted and leaned toward you, you jokingly shoved him back to his side.

"First off, I didn't throw it at them, I set them loose in the locker room and locked the door." You threw up one finger and spoke in your matter-of-fact tone. Leo just smiled. "And two, they wanted to try and break us up so I don't think I was being overly dramatic."

"Ughhh why are you so obsessed with meeee" Leo threw his arm around you and pulled you close.

"Interesting, what about the time you used your webs and hung them around some guys ankles because they were staring at my tits as I spoke?"

"I think that was reasonable." You both didn't say anything for a split second.

"Maybe we both have a jealousy thing." You said the same thing at the same time and started laughing together. Leo continued to hold you close before pulling up your face and kissing you. You guys continued to make out for a few more minutes before your window slid open, revealing your amazing brother Percy who was now also standing out on the fire escape.

"This doesn't look very grounded to me." Percy crossed his arms, staring right in your eyes.

"Oh my gods what is it that you need so bad." You stared right in his eyes back, squinting.

"Well, moms home." You quickly turned to Leo who was now looking for his mask. "And she already saw Leo from downstairs, so."

"I love when you let me know she's here, oh wait, you didn't." You sassed back at Percy. "Wait for the next time Annabeth sneaks in."

"Oh so the both of you are sneaking people in?" Your mom, Sally Jackson, said as she was leaning out of the window staring between her two twins.

"NO!" You both said quickly, but Leo was still sitting next to you, staring wide-eyed at Sally.

"I think its your cue to go Leo" your mom said.

"Yeahhh.." Leo stood up and quickly kissed the top of your head before putting his mask back on. "Bye guys." And he left as quick as possible from the awkward situation.

"I'm drilling the both of your windows shut." You and Percy rolled your eyes. "Calm down stop acting like we don't have a front door, now come inside."

#percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #percy pjo #percy series #percy jackson pjo #leo valdez #heroes of olympus #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez x y/n #leo valdez x you #leo valdez fluff

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lapis-lights · 1 year

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Car Lights [Part 2]

[Leon Kennedy x DSO Archivist!Reader]

Song Title: Car Lights by James Marriott

Content Warnings: Light NSFW in this part (18+ only), Female Reader, Slow Burn, Friends With Tension, Arguments, Angst, Pining, Gun Violence, Experiments, Near Death Experience, Alcohol Use, Smoking, Blood, Fluff, Happy Ending

Word Count: 13.2k out of 30.3k

Author's Notes: Part two! What did you guys think of the Capcom spotlight yesterday? I'm very excited!!!! Anyways, hope you guys like this part. I'm working on my next write so ye :D

Part 1 here

Summary: As Leon pinpoints your location and devises a plan to rescue you, you're enlightened to some grave news. Your humanity's time is a ticking clock, and there's no telling what may happen. The possibility that you may never get to tell Leon your feelings weighs precariously on your heart, though it seems that this is the end of the line for you.

As far as endings go, in your opinion, this one couldn't have gone worse.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

"You can hold my hand in a crowded place, but just hold me close and hope that they don't see my face..."

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

Voices ring around you like a distant dream.

They fade in and out of your ears, floating delicately around your head as if determining whether or not they really wanted to be real. Your sight is dark, but you try reaching a hand out to follow the sound of people. You find it’s incredibly difficult to move at all–in fact, you can’t.

It’s alarming with the limited mobility, but it’s something you’ll have to try and work with.

You strain to zero in on the voices, trying to make out the words and get a clue as to what was exactly happening. However, it’s difficult seeing as every syllable is muffled to the point that you can’t decipher what they say, and it’s frustrating that so many of your senses are limited.

Was this a dream or were you strung in some sort of limbo in the real world? It’s hard to tell.

What happened? What led up to this moment?

You think hard about it, remembering that you’d woken up before the sun as usual, went to the office, and got a coffee before slipping quietly into the office with Ingrid. Ignoring her looks of sympathy, you’d immediately gotten to work trying not to think about a certain DSO agent who had your emotions in the palm of his hand. At the end of the day when the reports finally slowed down and you had pushed your body to its limit, you went home.

You wrote in your journal, tears drying on your cheeks as you admit your undying love for Leon for the thousandth time.

That thought makes you pause.

You really do love him, don’t you? Or was it something else?

Where did the line draw itself between love and obsession? Were you just happy that someone you admired for so long finally noticed you back or did you genuinely like what you saw in Leon?

Leon…

His harsh words had struck a chord in your heart, but for some reason, you still can’t help but be hopelessly drawn to him. You think that if the world was ending, you might still follow him to the ends of the earth. You’d stare into those azure eyes that provided a window to his soul and agree to go with him wherever he wanted to take you. That was what trust was, at least, but what did it entail?

Silently, in your mind, you apologize to Leon.

Silently, you say goodbye.

And you wake up.

The first thing you notice is the texture of the walls, carved out roughly like it was a rock wall and you notice that it's damp, wet stone beneath your palms and the air pumping with humidity. The space you had been lying in was cramped, barely giving you enough height to stand up and wide enough just to fit your form into it. Rusted iron bars keep you trapped with torches providing dim lighting.

Where were you?

A sense of dread hangs over your shoulders and an uneasy churning begins stirring in your stomach. The more important question to ask was if anybody in the world knew where you were at. The possibility of the answer being no only made you silently panic even more.

"Ah, so she finally awakes!"

The sudden voice causes you to scramble back as far as you can get, which isn't much to be honest. You focus in on the figure who steps into the light, gray skin and unnatural eye color coming into view. It looks like a human man enough, but something about it doesn't seem right, though the scene is all too familiar in the wrong ways.

"Who are you?" Your throat is incredibly dried out and attempting to speak only draws attention to your thirst. Your limbs feel weak, your body exhausted, but from what, you can't tell.

"You should know more than anybody, no?" The stranger smiles and it's all rotting teeth. "After all, you've read the reports. You know the stories. But I supposed you could call me…Lucifer. How about that?"

“Very creative,” you say, unimpressed. “I’m sure Satan is down in Hell shuddering right now. What about you should I know? As far as I know, we’ve never met.”

“Never directly, no,” Lucifer tilts his head. “Think about it.”

It takes a moment of staring before it clicks in your mind. The appearance of a human, but truly nothing more than an overly animated corpse. The rotting, the gray skin. Eyes that were unnaturally yellow in a way nobody's could be unless you were…

"You're a member of Los Illuminados."

"Very quick witted! I'm impressed," he says giddily. "Though, I should expect nothing short of the archivist for the DSO, should I?"

Something isn't right. It isn't adding up. "How do you know who I am?"

"We have some time, I suppose," he muses, checking a watch that isn't there. "You're not going anywhere anytime soon, after all."

You don't answer him on that, but you get up and cross your arms close to your chest. Still, doubt hangs on your mind, untrusting of this guy. Almost all the members of Los Illuminados were wiped out when Leon saved Ashley from them, but only a sparse set of them survived. You didn't expect that they were still in operation, and less so targeting anybody DSO.

"We had the right idea with Ashley Graham," he begins, pacing across the span of your prison so you can keep an eye on him from the other side of the bars. "But, of course, our plans were rather rudely disrupted by an unwelcome guest...You know him well, don't you?"

Your glare at him.

"Right," Lucifer chuckles as if this were all some joke. "We still intend to implant a mole in the DSO to pass us the information we need. Thankfully, you'll be happy to know that we developed a new branch of Las Plagas, and what better subject to test it on than the most informed member we could think of?"

You purse your lips tightly, finally understanding. "You intend to infect me. I'm supposed to be the mole."

A statement, not a question.

"Close, you're very close." He finally stops his steps, coming closer and wrapping his hands around the bars, leaning forward so that his face is pressed against the spaces in between the rusted metal. "Your humanity is slipping as we speak, for we already implanted the parasite."

Horror.

Terror wracks your body as his words ring in your ears and your body suddenly gives in so violently, you have to sit down and tuck yourself into the corner of your cell. For some reason, it just doesn't process. "So I'm just ticking down to becoming some mindless flesh bag for your use."

"Not at all," he seems delighted by your response. "I know you're a rather intelligent young woman. Beautiful too. I'm honored that you'll be under my control when the Plagas takes hold of your body, and I'll be sure to let you have your conscience when I'm all done playing with you."

You want to vomit at his feet just to prove a point. "Bold assumption."

"It's not an assumption, my dear," Lucifer smiles wickedly. "It's only a matter of time."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

"You wound me with your words," he backs away from the bars, sending you a smile that makes your skin crawl. "But, I'd seriously consider your plans. You could be powerful, you know. This strain of Las Plagas has abilities that go beyond your wildest imaginations."

That's exactly what you're afraid of. "I'll pass."

"A shame," he simpers, shaking his head. "Humanity was a good look for you."

You close your eyes and lean against the wall as the member's footsteps retreat and a door slams somewhere, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

It seems that this is the end of the road.

In the middle of nowhere, you don't have any form of communication with the agency and definitely no way to contact anybody. It's just been revealed your time is limited since Los Illuminados already infected you with the Plagas, presumably the strain that DSO had centered the meeting around. If that's true, it's likely that you only had a day or so, depending on how long it took for the Plagas to hatch and attach itself to your nerves.

When Leon was in Spain, he was able to stay conscious enough to locate an extraction device, which judging by his report of the incident, targeted the Plagas inside of his body by some form of radiation that killed off the parasite. You sincerely doubt there's something like that around here, and moreover, you doubt you have the ability to sneak out and find it without a problem.

You know basic defense. You know simple hand-to-hand strategies and you know how to use a gun, but that wasn't enough.

It's hard not to cry, but you try to think rationally about what might happen. Your conscience might stay, but your will won't be your own. You'll become a weapon for these people, and you won't have a choice in the matter. You'll have to watch the bloodshed be on your hands as you kill without hesitation.

You squeeze your eyes shut as you finally admit it.

The next time you meet Leon, it's very very likely you won't even be yourself at all.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

Nothing but the engine could be heard in Leon's ears, but his thoughts are just as equally, if not more, loud.

He'd been on edge ever since the search in your apartment, and only a few mere hours later, the agency had pinned down your potential location. The abandoned lab, which the squad had been due to anyway, was the prime suspect since that's where they were most likely keeping the new Plagas infection, and by extension, you.

There was hardly any time to pack. There was barely any need to.

The objective was clear as day–recover you and destroy the lab upon leaving.

While the government clearly only cared about your return because of the information you have on them regarding their activity, Leon cared about your safety and whether you would be alive or not. He needs to see you with his own eyes, hoping that you weren’t just another life added to the endless list of the dead.

A hand drifts up and his fingers lightly brush over his lips.

He needs to bring you home.

It only took two more hours before Leon was gearing up, loading all of his guns with ammo and making sure his knife was sharp enough to slice through any dangers he might encounter. The rest of the soldiers accompanying him were performing similar tasks, readying themselves for the fight ahead.

One of them glances at Leon and he can feel the weight of their gaze.

“Hey, man.” He sounds incredibly awkward. “We’ll save her, okay? Then we can go back and you guys can finally get together like everybody in the agency has been waiting for you to.”

Leon stops, staring at the soldier. “What?”

“Nobody’s blind.” The guy’s eyes crinkle with a small smile. “We can all tell that you’d give her the world if she asked for it, yeah?”

He would. He just didn’t expect it to be that obvious.

Wordlessly, Leon nodded and resumed his work, organizing his thoughts and taking deep breaths in and out. He can’t screw this up for a second. He may be DSO’s best agent, but he’s also just a man who’s susceptible to emotion just as much as anybody else when it comes to you in particular.

The comm comes on overhead notifying the agents that the plane was landing near the site. It was only a simple trek to the lab from there.

“Alright, listen up,” Leon says and all the men sit to attention. He looks at them one by one while speaking. “We all know our goal–DSO’s archivist has been kidnapped for information and our top priority is to find and secure her safely back to the rendezvous point. Our second goal is searching for any research regarding the Plagas virus, which means that there’s every possibility that the undead are gonna be roaming around here. Aim for the head. Shoot their legs if you need time. Remember the procedure if one of you gets infected, and do not hesitate. The third goal is to plant the explosives so we can blow this place apart when we're done. One of our own is in that lab right now waiting for us. Are we clear?”

A chorus of, “Yes sir!” goes around.

Leon nods and feels the plane dip lower and lower. He quiets his nerves as the ground comes into view and everybody prepares to move out. You’re so close now, he can almost feel your presence looming in the distance, watching and waiting.

The moment his shoes hit the dirt, his mind flies into business mode. All of the stress bleeds away and all that’s left is the familiar thoughts of analytic strategizing.

“Straits and Levy, lead into the left wing. Santos, Novak, go right. Hudson and Reed, center field. The rest of you divide up evenly. I’m going down into the basement. I’ll call for backup if I’m having complications, and you all do the same. Understood?”

Affirmations ring through Leon’s earpiece and he pushes forward.

The lab is overgrown. Covered in ivy and rusted to the point that the walls themselves looked like they were peeling. It didn’t take long to locate an entrance and break it open. Leon simply shot the lock and the door swung inward.

A Ganado flees from within as if just waiting to be freed. It hisses, spits saliva, and shouts profanities at the sight of the DSO agents. Some of the rookies shout in alarm before Leon shoots it down easily with a few handgun bullets. He motions the others to follow him inside, and some share quiet words as they step over the limp body and head inside.

Flashlights on their guns provide just enough light to illuminate the dark space. As the others split up into the groups Leon had instructed them into, he finds the hallway that leads down into the basement just as he had been looking for.

When he opens the door, undead that weren’t of the Ganado type, screech at the intrusion. Leon dodges the first one that lunges for him, ducking a second’s attempt to catch him off guard. They fall down in a tangle of limbs and two bullets to each of their heads take them out. He returns his gun to his holster, sidestepping another that comes up behind him. He latches onto one of its arms and twists it so that he could slit its neck with his knife. It falls down with an anguished moan as he presses forward without a second thought.

Leon finds a labyrinth of prison cells that are hardly more than large holes carved into the rock walls. Some had dried blood streaked on the rocks and others held shackles containing severed arms and limbs that were stripped down to bone. It's obvious that they were doing more than just researching at this lab, though it's not uncommon for Umbrella to be performing unethical human experimentation.

Actually, it's no surprise at all.

He pulls his gun out and shoots a zombie that rounds the corner of the corridor he walks in, and the bullets sound louder in the echoey cavern. It's humid down here and Leon can already feel the perspiration on his skin.

He strains to listen in the following silence and freezes when he hears something very human. It's gone just as quickly as it came and Leon begins to think that he had just imagined it until a violent cough rings out.

He takes off, following the direction of the noise as one cough had led to two and then broke into a whole fit. It sounds painful, like the person was hacking up an entire lung or something along the lines. Whoever it was, they were lucky to be alive considering all of the presumed deaths judging by the earlier cells. Speaking of which, there were countless more of those tiny jail cells, with broken iron bars and more dried blood. Just how many people were sacrificed down here?

Finally, Leon approached the source of the coughing, sliding to a stop in front of a cell that had its door locked tightly.

There, cramped inside of it was you.

Your skin was streaked with dirt, sweatpants and a loose t-shirt, the last thing you were wearing before you were kidnapped. Your hair was greasy and tangled to the point that it would take hours just to unravel it all. Your eyes were sunken in, dark bags hanging under them like you hadn't gotten a wink of sleep since you got here. To be fair, you probably didn't, and he can't fault you for that.

Worst of all is the blood pooling around your mouth, dribbling to your chin, and staining your shirt. Your veins are colored black, threading through your body and reaching up towards your eyes.

Your gaze finds him, and though he didn't expect an entire celebration, he's alarmed when you have little to no reaction at all. Instead, you tuck your head back into your knees from where your legs fold against your chest.

"Your hallucinogenic gas doesn't work on me anymore, asshole," you mumble brokenly, and Leon's heart manages to fracture more than it already had at your state. "I know he's not really here so fuck off already."

He steps forward, places a hand on the bars gently and frowns. "Oh, sweetheart," he murmurs, unable to stop the nickname from falling from his lips. "What the hell did they do to you?"

Your head shoots up immediately, that old fire returning to your eyes, even if a mere spark. "Leon?"

"Yeah. It's me," he assures, rattling the bars of your cage. "How do we get this open?"

Instead of immediately jumping to your feet to assist him like he hoped you would, your expression turns panicked, shaking your head furiously despite flinching at the pain it causes. "Wait, Leon, no, save yourself." You beg weakly, curling up tighter. "It's not safe. I'm not safe."

Unintentionally, he growls. "What did they do to you?" He demands, ignoring your pleas.

There's an aching in your bones, tension rippling beneath your skin just waiting to burst through. It's just a matter of time, and it was terrifying. Your internal clock is counting down the minutes, and there's no telling when you might turn.

"They injected me with a variant of Las Plagas," you rush out. "The one that the DSO met us about–it’s already hatched and clearly I don't have much time yet. You need to go!"

"Absolutely not," Leon snaps. "I'm taking you home."

"Listen to me," you plead. "I don't know when this thing is going to take hold of me, but when it does, there's no telling what I'll do. You need to find the Los Illuminados member responsible–he's somewhere in this building–says his name is Lucifer, which is fucking stupid if you ask me-"

"Heard on that, and I'll let the squad know to be on the lookout," he grits his teeth. "But to hell with him, I'm getting you out."

"Why won't you just go already?!" You shout, frustrated with his stubbornness at the moment. "I'm a liability, Leon, you can't-"

"Because I'm not leaving you again, goddamnit!" Leon's voice echoes harshly like a cannon's blast, devastating and deafening.

You can't immediately form a response to that. The silence hangs tensely in the air as Leon breathes in and out shakily, before looking up at you with pleading ocean eyes. His hands wrap around the bars desperately.

"I can't lose you again," he says quietly, softly. "I can't–not when you're right here in front of me."

You stared at him only a moment longer, thinking maybe it was time you stopped trying to self-sacrifice in the name of good, even if it was something you didn't agree with. Perhaps it would save you both from a lot of heartaches in the future.

You finally give in.

"Okay," you finally concede. "Let's get this door open."

Leon perks up at your allowance, immediately scanning to lock to try and find a weak spot in it. "I'd try shooting it, but your space is so small, I could hit you."

"Do you know how to lockpick?" You ask hopefully.

"I do, but not with anything I have on me right now," Leon admits.

You blink owlishly at him before suppressing a laugh, earning a confused look from him. "You could use your knife, silly."

He's missed you. God, Leon's missed you.

Even with bloody lips and a virus pumping through your blood as you spoke, he finds that little comfort in knowing you're still the same you even for this moment.

He pulls out his knife and holds it out to you as you get up and groan, hand on your chest as you gasp for air. Alarmed, Leon startles so harshly that the iron bars clash violently, but you merely give him a strained smile.

"I'll walk it off," you attempt at humor, accepting the knife and jamming it into the lock. As you feel your way through the mechanisms, you glance up at him. "Thank you for being here."

"Of course," he watches as the lock clicks and his breath hitches. "Even if I wasn't under orders, I'd have torn down this place looking for you."

The door swings open and you look up at him, holding the knife back out to him. The blade flashes and the RPD logo shines in the torchlight. When Leon takes and sheaths it, he hesitates, eyes flicking from the passageway he came to you. You almost want to ask him what's wrong, but before you can speak he cuts you off.

Arms wrap around you and pull you to his chest, but it's not alarming the way it had been when you were kidnapped. This is warm, like finally coming home after a long arduous journey. It was familiar and yet foreign–you almost forgot what being in his arms felt like. It didn't take any time for you to return the embrace, squeezing your arms around his torso just as hard as he held you.

His nose buries into your hair, not caring about its condition and just caring that you're here and alive. He ensures you are real under his embrace on your waist and back, feeling the heat of your skin beneath his calloused palms, and it soothes him knowing you weren't completely infected yet. He didn't have to gun you down–didn't have to harm you in any way like he had been fearing.

"I missed you," Leon mumbles, so softly you almost miss it.

The vulnerability in his words catch you off guard, but it makes your chest tingle in that familiar way that he always made you feel. There's something underlying his words that you can read between the lines for. He didn't just miss you now.

Leon's missed you since your argument.

The realization makes you soften immediately. Safe to say, the sentiment was mutual.

"I missed you too," you sigh, pulling away but threading your fingers with his. "We need to figure out a way to get rid of the Plagas in me before I lose my will, and I don't know if there's an extraction device anywhere around here."

"Right," Leon nods, pressing on his earpiece. "Come in. I've located and recovered Agent (L/n), but she's infected with the new variant of Las Plagas and it's spreading fast. We need to either find an extraction device or get her to one of our labs as soon as possible."

"Copy that," one of the agents replies. "I'm fairly certain that I saw something similar to one in the left wing of the lab, though it looks more complicated than the one you and Graham used."

"It's a more advanced strain, so I'm not surprised," he begins moving down the passageway, pulling you by hand and refusing to let go. "We're heading up now. I need as many men as possible to meet us at the stairs and provide cover."

"She doesn't have any way to defend herself?"

"There's nothing more I would like than to give her a gun, but there's no telling when the Plagas might kick in. It's too high of a stake."

"Heard on that. We're heading to you now."

You and Leon make your way out of the dungeon, and you almost cry out in relief at the feeling of fresh air free of the crushing humidity you'd been forced to endure. However, you don't get too long to dwell on it before Leon tugs you along to a different portion of the lab.

Some of his men join you, bump arms with you and send their relief that you're alright. You thank them with a smile, letting Leon lead you to your next destination. There are countless sections, and they're a lot more modern than the workings of the torture dungeon. Each one contains some kind of advanced equipment that you couldn't even begin to attempt to name.

Somewhere along the way between labs and quarantine rooms, a stabbing pain floods your chest. It catches you so off guard that you stumble, alerting Leon immediately when he feels your grip almost slip from his.

A wriggling feeling in your head starts up like something was trying to finger its way out. You panic, thinking of the parasite in your body and that it might be breaking out now, and you look to Leon for any guidance. The pain and soreness travel down your body, and you fall to your knees with a cry.

"What's wrong?!" Leon jumps to your aid, kneeling by your side and pressing his fingers to the pulse point on your neck. "(Y/n), you gotta tell me what's happening."

You wheeze, struggling to breathe. "We need to hurry," you manage to whisper. "It's happening-"

A cough tears its way from your throat and it feels like the tissue of your muscles is ripping you apart from the inside out. Tears prick at your eyes as if it feels like something is trying to rip its way from inside your body. Time was running out, the last few minutes hanging precariously in front of your eyes. Your body turns cold to the touch but it feels like you’re burning alive. Your life begins flashing before your eyes and you struggle to hold on.

Leon takes the initiative and scoops you up into his arms, supporting your knees and back. You curl graciously into his chest, but you can’t find the strength to voice it, more blood dribbles down your chin and your conscience begins slipping.

You can tell Leon’s trying to run as smoothly as he can, but the urgency in his footsteps makes it difficult. The effort is appreciated nonetheless. A door bursts open in your ears and Leon places you rather haphazardly onto a seat that’s vaguely reminiscent of the ones you dread during dentist visits.

As you close your eyes, Leon begins navigating the screen to extract the Plagas and the machine whirs to life, locking your arms down to the chair. He finds the x-ray to be horrific, seeing the parasite had attached itself to your lungs, which explains your difficulty breathing, and has grown to almost cover the whole organ.

Leon is about to press the option to remove it, ready for this whole damn thing to be over.

His hand hovers over the screen…

…And you grab his arm.

It’s an iron-tight grip with a strength that you’ve never had before, breaking through the iron restraints on the machine. Your eyes open to reveal red pupils, your expression simply blank as your head slowly turns to look at him. Leon opens his mouth to speak, but he doesn’t get the chance to when you get up from the chair with inhuman speed.

He doesn’t even get the chance to process what was happening before you were at his backside, kicking him down and backing away to stand at the other end of the room.

Leon groans, getting to his knees, looking for you desperately. Behind you, a figure approaches in Los Illuminados robes, and a sinister smile on his dead lips. This must be the guy that was behind it all, Leon realizes.

Lucifer. It really was a dumb fucking alias.

“You didn’t think I would really make it that easy, did you Mr. Kennedy?” he taunts, tilting his head and you copy the action. “Such an obedient little puppet I have here. Do you want to play with her?”

“You have thirty seconds to let her go,” Leon spits, holding up his hand for his men to be on standby. “You don’t want to know what’ll happen if you don’t.”

“Or what?” the man muses. “You’ll kill me? You’ll have to get through her before you get to do that.”

He falters, looking from you to him while slowly formulating a plan. Somehow, he needs to separate you from the cult member controlling you and get you into the chair so his men could handle your extraction while Leon took on taking the fucker’s last breath. He keeps his eyes on the man, pressing on his earpiece and relaying the message to his squad.

Leon removes the gun from his holster, reloading it so that it was at full capacity, and sends a stiff glare to the man. “Thirty seconds are up,” he says.

The man smiles, too wide and with nothing but yellowed teeth.

Leon lunges and you copy his movements. You shriek, gurgling like you were drowning in your own lungs as you go to grab him. He dodges your attempts, numbing himself to the feelings as he kicks you roughly in the gut and sends you reeling back with a cough.

Your red irises lock onto him and you scream incoherently, faking left and going right to tackle him to the ground. Leon grunts, losing the grip on his gun in favor of apprehending your wrists, twisting his head away from where you try to bite him. He struggles before managing to roll onto his side and kicking you away. He just knows there's going to be bruises forming when you get out of here.

Leon gets to his feet and grabs his gun, sprinting toward you and sliding down to crouch by your side. He roughly pins your arms behind your back and motions to his men.

"Now!" He shouts and they all replace his hands and hoist you up to carry you to the extraction device. Your figure flails wildly as you scream, though it sounds all wrong and too animalistic to really be you.

The guy’s expression is so priceless, Leon almost laughs at it, but even he didn’t deserve that privilege.

As his men start strapping you down into the chair, the cult member himself screeches angrily, lowering his hood and revealing almost paper-white skin. His own red eyes are filled with rage as he stumbles to the ground and screams.

Leon watches as Lucifer mutates with pained shouts, gruesome in a sort of Las Plagas way he hasn't encountered in a long while. The skin slides off of him in slimy puddles to reveal bone and a wriggling parasite underneath on his chest. It’s grotesque with his ribcage exposed and arms and legs bulging with pus-filled flesh as he grows in size almost to the size of the El Gigantes he’s faced before in Spain.

The ceiling arches up high enough to fit him, and Leon realizes this must have been the plan all along. Hollowed-out eyes direct themselves to him and the newly mutated cult member roars.

With one worried glance to check that his men were still working on operating the extraction machine, he faces this new version of Lucifer with a grimace.

To be fair Leon’s survived worse.

“Same as it ever was,” he mutters under his breath, pointing the barrel of his gun to the mutant.

Meanwhile, you were thrashing wildly in the chair as the team of men strapped you in and one of them operated around on the screen. There were multiple configuration settings, having to choose which parts of your body to attack and options on what type of parasite they were killing. Your veins grow darker and you screech, struggling violently against your bindings.

“There’s not much time until the bastard can cause her to mutate too,” one of the agents points out. “We need to hurry.”

Leon slides under the incoming blow from Lucifer, rolling to his feet and seeing the ground broken where he had just been. He shoots the exposed parasite that was pulsing in the chest. Yellow pus explodes from where the bullet had hit. A couple more shots have the mutant screaming in rage and frustration, barreling toward Leon with heavy steps that shook the whole room.

He shoots the parasite two more times before dodging the mutant grabbing at him. He dances around Lucifer, peppering him with bullets, and the sound of gunshots from other agents conjoined with his.

Leon watches as the mutant shrieks, blood running down its body and oozing pus as it grabs a cabinet and rips it off the wall.

In a display of timing, he manages to dodge it when Lucifer launches it at him. Wood splinters upon its impact on the wall. Leon backs away, covered in body fluids that weren’t his, and aims his gun at the parasite once more. He only had one more bullet before he had to reload, thinking it was time to use the rifle he was equipped with.

Lucifer lunges unexpectedly, and Leon goes to dodge. Large hands close around his torso and he’s lifted off the ground. He immediately struggles, coming face to face with the ugly fucker and working to remove his right arm. Though, it’s proving difficult when the grip around him is becoming tighter and stronger.

“Fool,” Lucifer grumbles out, his voice octaves deeper and reverberating off the walls. “I’ve had enough of you.”

“That’s a shame,” Leon wheezes out, wriggling his wrist rapidly. “The party was just getting started.”

He frees his hand and grabs his knife from its sheath on his shoulder. Leon plunges the blade into the mutant’s thumb, and it lets out a horrid screech before dropping him to the floor.

He grunts upon impact, lifting himself shakily and looking up at Lucifer with heaving breaths of air. He scrambles for the knife that drops with a clink to the floor next to him and returns it to his scabbard. A shrill scream draws both of their attention and Leon sees that the men seem to have figured out how to operate this version of the extraction machine. The machinery whirs to life and mechanisms descend downward towards you.

It seems that the mutant understood what was happening as well.

Lucifer howls, making a beeline for you and the other agents surrounding you.

“Shoot the parasite!” Leon commands hotly, getting to his feet and loading the rifle from his back as he ran. “The knees!”

He passes the mutant, sliding to a stop on the frontlines and pressing his eye to the scope of his gun. Leon breathes out, aims, and pulls the trigger.

The Las Plagas parasite explodes.

It falls to the ground with a moist thud and Leon watches as the mutation seems to recede and rebuild itself back into Lucifer’s former image, though the bullet holes have left much to be desired. He’s still somewhat of a man, and apparently still alive as he pulls himself to his feet with a pathetic moan.

Leon aims his gun and shoots Lucifer in the knees. As he stumbles back to the ground worthlessly, he reaches for you with a cry.

"My masterpiece," he wails and the blood only boils hotter in Leon. "You can't take her from me! She's my magnum opus! My life's work!"

Snarling, Leon rips his knife from its sheath and launches it so that it pierces into the cult member's arm and pins him to the ground. The man screams, but Leon has no remorse as he approaches him, ripping the weapon out and almost relishing in the way he started screaming in agony upon the blood that comes gushing from the wound.

Leon flips him over and glares darkly into his rotting eyes. "Let's get one thing straight, fucker," he spits, grabbing a fistful of the cult member's collar and raising him up off the floor. "She's not your anything–she's mine."

That's the only last words Leon allows him to process before pressing the barrel of his handgun to the cult member’s and pulling the trigger.

The silence that follows is nothing but the aftermath of a battle. Blood coats Leon’s skin thickly, though a majority of it isn’t his own. Throughout the whole fight, he only suffered minor injuries from scuffing the floor and being thrown around a little. In the bigger picture, he’s fought larger and worse bioweapons than some random guy who didn’t really know what he was getting into playing around with parasites and viruses.

Not forgetting his top priority, Leon gets to his feet and swivels around, striding in your direction. The agents part like the Red Sea for him as the extraction device works its magic. It’s clear you’re in pain by the way you jerk roughly and whine weakly, though Leon simply bites his cheek and watches your x-ray on the screen.

The parasite on your lungs wriggles desperately, trying to escape the assault. A few tense seconds of futile struggle pass before it gives up and disintegrates in on itself. As a result, you finally stop resisting and the blackened veins under your skin begin receding.

Leon breathes out silently in relief.

He looks at his team and nods.

They managed to have no casualties, and they'd completed all of their goals. All that was left to do was blow this place sky high and go home.

He turns back to your unconscious body, knowing that you’re probably exhausted by the strain the Plagas had put on you. Leon gently caresses your hair, hoping that his intent reached you even as you were sleeping.

And finally, he started to feel something similar to peace.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

Unlike your dream in the black void of the dungeon, this time, you find yourself completely surrounded by white.

You can see yourself as you look down, find yourself able to move freely and willingly, though it feels floaty and not at all natural. It's not something you'll complain about, though. It's better you can move in a dream rather than not being able to at all.

You glance around, finding nothing but white space.

This couldn't be real. Did you die during the extraction process? Surely not, though you hate to admit that the parasite had made you incredibly weak. Coughing up blood the first time was bad enough, but after the proceeding fits, you may as well have been throwing the stuff up. Still, you could remember everything during the time you were possessed right up until you had blacked out from the machine.

You'd fought Leon briefly, yet he still insisted on helping you.

"You know," a familiar voice yanks you out of your deep thoughts. "You really are in denial."

You swirl around to find the source of the voice, only to furrow your eyebrows in confusion as Leon seems to materialize from an invisible fog. He's the same as he always was with the same handsome features you've spent admiring for an untold amount of hours, but something seems incredibly off. Your gut doesn't like it and neither do you.

"Is that so?" You frown. "I don't suppose you'll tell me who you are?"

"C'mon, (Y/n)," he grins, holding his arms out. "It's just me."

"You're not real, though," you counter. "For all I know you're just a figment of my imagination telling me what I want to hear."

"If that was true, I'd tell you I hate you," Leon shrugs, coming to stand next to you, placing a hand on your shoulder.

His palm lacks the warmth it should have.

"What?"

"You've really gotta stop trying to be the hero of this whole ordeal," he says, facing you. "You're trying to protect his reputation in the workplace and the last thing you'd want to do is get him in trouble, so realistically you want him to hate you. But he doesn't."

"Bummer," you sigh and sit down. He joins you.

It's odd, floating with an image of your best friend who is very much not real. For a dream, it's incredibly vivid, though.

"Why do you insist on refusing to be with him?" Leon asks. "Since you like him so much and obviously he likes you too."

"Does he really, though?"

"That's the whole reason he had that argument with you, yeah? What was it he said? Something about how you were acting like it only affected one of you guys?"

You cringe. "Yeah."

"Well, did you ever consider what he might've really meant by that?"

You look up at Leon confused, drawing your knees to your chest. "What do you mean?"

He leans back lazily. "I mean, instead of him seemingly accusing you that you were only thinking of yourself, perhaps he meant that you were only thinking of him and his reputation? What it might entail for him was always on your mind–you're considerate like that–but did you ever consider yourself?"

You blink dumbly and shake your head. "Y'know you're really bad at impersonating Leon. He'd never try giving me a free therapy session."

"Ouch. I'm trying my best here."

"I know you are."

"I'm just saying," Leon says, "maybe you should start thinking about yourself. It would probably hurt him knowing that you don't think yourself worthy of him."

"That's because I'm not," you sigh. One big circle, this argument was. "He's the best agent DSO has to offer and I'm some coworker who keeps her head in the computers. Tell me how it would ever work out."

"You can maintain an appropriate workplace appearance while dating. It's just a matter if the two parties are mature enough to pull it off. Besides, I'm sure he doesn't care about status–which, you're a part of the DSO as well, so I don't really see the problem there–as long as you make him happy."

That shuts you up.

"You know that he loves you, don't you?" Leon asks after a bout of silence.

Your breath hitches–as much as it can in a dream, anyway.

The question makes you ponder everything that has happened. Everything Leon did, you just wrote it off as something of his flirtatious demeanor who had nothing better to do than hit on any woman he came across. Hunnigan was most notable in this scenario, but really any female coworker was fair game. However, you don't think he necessarily went to their house to have dinner and watch movies and just sit on a cheap couch to talk for hours without getting bored.

You always knew it. You were just scared to admit it.

You were scared of Leon loving you as much as you loved him.

"Yeah," you answer quietly. "He really does, doesn't he?"

The Leon of your head smiles, familiar even as a facade. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest just like the night you had shared cigarettes together and it's just like you remembered. It lacks the warmth that made the whole hug worth it, but for now, you can deal with cold comfort.

You close your eyes.

"Do you wanna go back?" Leon asks.

You shrug non-committedly. "Not yet. I kinda just wanna stay here with you for a second."

"Okay," he says.

"You're not real," you whisper, reminding yourself that this safe space is nothing more than temporary. "Leon's out there in the real world, isn't he?"

"Probably worrying his ass off if anything," Not-Leon muses. "Promise you'll make an effort once you get out of here? Not only for his happiness, but for yours as well."

It's a challenge, being told to care for more than just Leon and trying to do what you think is best for him. But…if you being happy made him happy by proxy, then there really was no argument to have, was there?

You love Leon S. Kennedy.

And he loves you too.

"I promise," you say, and you know it's true.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

The night is nothing but rain and stormy weather. While everybody was out celebrating their successful mission, Leon found himself in the confines of his own apartment–the very one he hated.

Only a yellow light above his dinner table illuminates the space, and he has a glass of hard whiskey that attempts to quiet his nerves like an old companion. It doesn't work very well. After they had returned home, you were taken to a hospital immediately to record your body and search for any traces of the Plagas that might still reside in you. Leon wasn't able to go with you, but he supposes it's fair in a sense. He just hopes you're okay.

Hunnigan had contacted him soon after they had admitted you in, thanking Leon for bringing you home and doing everything he could. It was some semblance of comfort, though it wasn't very strong.

Thunder rolls in the background.

Leon sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose roughly and massaging the spot in hopes of relieving the headache he had gained. Sleep has been far and few in between since stress loves to keep him up often, but can anybody really blame him for being so worried for you? As much as he hates to admit it, you're not capable of keeping yourself safe the way you should. Leon thinks that he should give you personal training sometime to prevent something like this happening again, though he doubts he'll want you to leave his sight for a while.

The thought makes him pause.

Since when has he grown so possessive over you?

Fuck, he really was in too deep, wasn't he? How you had managed to break through the rough exterior he put up was beyond him, looking past his status and persona to see the real Leon, bruised and bloodied and ruinous. You disregarded the murder on his hands, understood him in a way nobody did before, and became a sanctuary that he felt safe enough to thrive in.

Nobody else has done that before. Not even the likes of Claire or even Ada.

What would he even say when he saw you again? It was clear that you were on better terms than you had been previously, but the wound from your argument in the archives still hurt like it was fresh so the two of you definitely needed to sort it all out. He needs you to know that he fucked up, and it was something that wouldn't happen again.

He needs you to know that-

Three quiet knocks is all it took to pull him from his storm of thoughts.

Leon looks up, confused. He wasn't expecting any visitors tonight and all the likely candidates were already busy and never mentioned making a pit stop to him. Just to be safe, he grabs Matilda and loads it before getting up from the table and making his way to the front door. As he gets closer, he can hear the pounding of the pouring rain. It's heavy tonight.

When Leon opens the door, your figure stands on the other side completely drenched from the weather. Your eyes light up upon seeing him, but the bags beneath your eyes show how tired you really are. All that you have is a duffel bag and a backpack.

For a second, all you do is stare at each other, and the ambience of the pattering rain sounds like rhythmic drum beats.

"I had nobody else to go to," you finally say as a poor explanation. "But I can go somewhere else if you want."

Those words yank Leon out of his stupor and he shakes his head, opening the door wider and ushering you in with gentle sounds. He peeks out, making sure you weren't followed and shuts the door before double locking it and checking it. When he turns around, he finds you watching him anxiously and shifting from foot to foot like you didn't know what to do with yourself. To be fair, you haven't been in his apartment nearly as much as he'd been in yours.

His whole body laxes as if just the sight of you was enough to put all his worries at rest.

"C'mon," he invites, pressing a hand to the small of your back and guiding you down the hall. "Let's go run you a shower."

Once he sets you up and offers to take your clothes to wash, he leaves you to settle in, telling you that you can pick any of the spare guest rooms (there were many unnecessary ones) and to make yourself at home. In the meantime, he decides that whiskey probably isn't the best thing to be having when the object of his affections just showed up on his doorstep.

Instead, Leon settles for something more mild.

The coffee just finishes brewing when you walk in shyly, hair wet and an oversized t-shirt hanging loosely on your frame. You find that he's set out two steaming mugs alongside countless flavors of creamers and syrups. Your heart warms at the gesture as you slowly get closer to him.

"Help yourself," Leon prods gently, nonjudgmentally as he stirs in his own choice of combination. "I don't use everything as much as I should be, to be fair."

"Thank you," you say because you won't forget your manners as you select your flavorings. The underlying tension is deep enough that you can feel it in the air like some bubble waits to burst open, scattering everything into a flurry of a mess. You'd just have to make sure it doesn't get out of hand. "Listen, Leon-"

"Let's go get comfortable on the couch," he interrupts not unkindly. "It'll be less stressful if we're in a familiar setting."

Side by side on a sofa, the place where you two seemed to always find yourselves no matter what scenario. It's your thing, and the sentiment makes you happy, even if only for a little.

"Okay."

As promised, you find yourself sitting across from him, stirring your coffee together and struggling not to lose your nerve. Maybe it was a mistake coming here right after you'd been released from the hospital. Maybe you just ruined his whole night.

"I'm sorry I showed up out of nowhere," you begin, keeping your eyes on the way the liquid swirls in your cup with the spoon. "I know you like to expect people rather than them suddenly invading your space."

Leon shakes his head slightly. "You're not invading. I've told you before that this apartment is here for you just as much as it is for me, yeah?"

He has. Those words ring a distant bell in your head.

Another silence lapses as you try to gather the courage to just put out the words you've been meaning to say for weeks. There's theoretically nothing to be scared of, no monsters to run from, or any life or death scenario hanging in the balance. It was just Leon–it always has been. You just have to find the strength to show him the deepest parts of yourself and hope that you've molded your heart into something good enough to present to him.

You're not scared.

You're terrified.

There's nothing to run from.

Leon's reaction will make or break you.

You love him. He loves you.

But does he really?

"I-" your voice cracks already and that's enough to make heat flame to your cheeks in embarrassment.

"We don't have to do anything you don't want to," Leon assures, "but we do need to talk at some point."

"I know," you swallow, setting down your drink and twisting your hands nervously in your lap.

"How about we start with why you came here? I know you were being tested for any missed traces of Las Plagas that still might've been in your system."

Bless him–that was an easy enough question to start off with.

"They dispatched me after giving me the all-clear and giving me doses of pills to take. They're the finalized versions of the suppressants that you took while you were in Spain to prolong the maturing of the parasites," you explain, pressing your lips together and breathing in and out. "They wanted me to stay with somebody, though. My apartment is a dead zone now since Los Illuminados and whoever else knows where I live. I would've asked Hunnigan but…"

You pause, wondering if you were really going through with this. Leon waits patiently, understanding without saying anything.

"I wanted to go somewhere I knew I'd feel safe," you confess, finally ripping your gaze up to look at him. "I feel safe when I'm with you."

He doesn't answer that, expression blank. Usually, you can read his little telltales, things that people from the outside can't usually see, but right now, you can't make out what he might be thinking. For all you know, he could hate you right now.

Your throat turns tight and the saltwater burns behind your eyelids. The tears are already cascading and you curse yourself for being so weak in the face of confrontation. "I understand if you don't– don't want me here, and I c-can really leave if you want me to-"

"Hey, hey," Leon sets his own cup aside on the coffee table and scoots closer carefully. "You're stressing yourself out–calm down and breathe for a second. I want you here. I always do, okay?"

It's hard to, and it feels like your chest is caving in on itself like it did when the Plagas was attaching itself to your lungs and transforming you into a monster. You certainly felt like one the night you'd-

"I took advantage of you," you gasp, struggling for the air you so desperately need but determined to push on because goddamnit if you weren't going to have this conversation right now after avoiding it for so long. "That night at the bar and I...I didn't even ask. I'm sorry."

"Follow me," Leon takes a hold of your hand and presses it to his chest, exaggerating his breaths. "You're okay."

The words are tumbling out of your mouth, running like a babbling brooke. He caresses your cheek with your free hand and throughout the whole ordeal, the two of you never break eye contact once. His thumb swipes aimlessly at the assault of tears and you think of how ugly and puffy you probably look right now.

But all you can see are those sapphire eyes watching you.

"I didn't mean it," you cave into his touch, head tilting into the palm of his hand willingly. "I didn't mean it when I accused you of just wanting to get me into your bed. You're so much more than that–you're everything to me and I–I was scared."

Leon frowns, rubbing soothing circles into your skin. "Scared of what, sweetheart?"

The question is daunting, but you're already too far in to stop now.

"Of you. Of how much you might like me," you whisper, closing your eyes. Your head is spinning and it feels like the couch is tipping from underneath you. "I was scared of what people might say, how it would affect you. I didn't want you to hate me."

"Oh, baby."

The nickname rolls off his tongue like honey and you make a small whimper at how it makes you feel. Even after all this time, Leon knows just how to bring you to your knees with so little words. He sounds like he's in pain just listening to you, and the auditory distress causes you to peek your eyes open just a little, looking past the blur of saltwater to see him

"How could I ever hate you?" Leon murmurs, expression pinched tightly in the way he did when he was in pain. He moves even closer until you can practically feel his body heat radiating off of him. For so many nights you've dreamed of having him this close, right next to you and hands holding you in such a loving way that almost brings you to tears.

Leon's light breaths fan your face and you close your eyes again, feeling his presence all around you. His lips press warmly against your forehead, then your eyebrow, then your cheeks. Your own skin heats beneath his ministrations, and he chuckles lowly at your adorable reactions.

His nose bumps against yours.

"I'm no better," he says and you can smell the hints of whiskey on his breath mixing with the aroma of coffee. "I said you ruined everything–if anything, you should hate me."

You shake your head, opening your eyes and looking right up at him. He's so close, so intimate in this tense moment that you fall forward and rest your forehead on the dip of his collarbones. Leon wastes no time readjusting his hold on you until you're fully tucked into his embrace, his chin resting on the crown of your head.

"Maybe," he whispers on accident, then clears his throat before saying louder, "Maybe you'd like to spend the night in my room instead?"

Butterflies erupt in your stomach like you're a teenage girl with a crush. "I'd like that."

Well…maybe it's not a crush anymore, but you're definitely obsessed.

Leon gathers you up in his arms like he was carrying you across a threshold for a honeymoon, not even bothering to turn off the kitchen light or grab your coffees that were teetering towards lukewarm. To be fair, if he was on the same page as you, his priority wasn't the cleanliness of the apartment.

He sets you down on your feet once he gets into his room, closing the door and turning to find you looking around the space curiously. You stray towards the nightstand, leaning down to peek into the frame of one of the photos that's set there. It's a city landscape in the sunset, warm tones creating a fiery display across the sky in the background. You tilt your head at it, knowing Leon wasn't one to have an eyeball for photography or artistically deep metaphors.

It only takes a moment for you to recognize the shape of it and what it meant.

"Raccoon City," you murmur.

Silence as he makes his way next to you, looking at the picture and frowning. "Yeah. I don't know why I still keep that around."

You turn to him as he sits down on his bed. "No, it's understandable, Leon. What happened in Raccoon City was a tragedy–it's a miracle you survived."

"I guess," he looks aimlessly out the window that has its curtains pulled back the way he had left it.

There was no telling what tragedies he had faced inside of that police station during his first day as a rookie cop. You had seen pictures when his face was rounder and his innocent eyes had been a little brighter, though the signs of trauma began setting in even then. Leon's grown into his role now, more mature and right here in front of you.

You watch him for a beat more, admiring the way he seems to glow in the moonlight. Something tugs in your chest, something magnetic, that draws you to him. Without thinking, you say, "You're really pretty, you know."

Leon's head snaps in your direction so quickly, you're surprised he doesn't get whiplash. "What?"

"You're pretty," you say simply. "Or do you prefer a more masculine adjective?"

"No, it's not that," he swivels his body toward you reaching out to take your hand in his. "You said that to me that night–at the bar when you were drunk."

You cringe, lacing your fingers with his. "At least you know I was honest then? I'm sorry, I don't remember much about that night besides kissing you."

To your quiet surprise, he tugs on your hand and pulls you into his lap, hand trailing to your thigh, warm and gentle yet firm. Your stomach seems to twist giddily at the action while your brain struggles to comprehend the sudden situation.

"Leon?" You breathe out.

"You're going to kill me," he murmurs, leaning forward and pressing his nose into the dip between your collarbones. "You're killing me and I'm letting you."

"What do you mean? Please, Leon, I don't understand-"

"I can't lose you," he cuts you off, eyes flicking up to your face. "I can't–they took you and all I could think was, 'Not her. Anybody but her.' You–You fucking torment me."

You freeze in his arms, mouth dropping into an 'o' as he pressed his lips to your neck. The way he recites the exact words you wrote in that stupid journal was enough to make your head spin. It was like he was sitting here putting out all his rawest emotions for you to pick through.

Even after all this time of being such a ruined man in the presence of every horror he faced, he watered himself down into something just for you. After everything that had happened between you two in the past weeks, Leon managed to mold and shape his heart into something suitable enough to give you.

"You read it?"

"Of course I did. Every word where you were in pain because of me," Leon pauses, breathing in shakily. His grip turns almost bruising on your thighs. "You weren't taking advantage of me, baby. You were just in love with me like I am with you."

Baby, he keeps calling you. Funny how that simple little word was enough to send you into overdrive, right down to your core.

His words stole the air from your lungs as you were encapsulated with an intense want for him. You needed him like flowers needed the sun and the earth needed its axis to spin and the day needed the night.

"Leon."

"Hm?"

"Kiss me, please."

His mouth was on yours in a second without a thought, your fingers threading through his hair as he pulled on your waist to get you closer.

It brought you back to that night after the bar, but this was better. You were conscious enough this time to memorize the shape of him and the way he tasted. His tongue ran across your bottom lip and darted into your mouth as soon as you opened up for him. Leon's grip was bruising, caught between shattering you and trying not to hurt you.

Your lips mold perfectly together and when you part to gain air, nothing but pants and quiet sounds fill the air. Your chest feels like it's expanding with how much you love him and your mind goes dizzy by the way his hands travel upward and hike the shirt up on your torso, exploring the flesh of your stomach.

Leon pulls you back in, kissing you feverishly as you grind down on him instinctively, drawing out a delicious groan that sounds so beautiful. You want more noises, more of him, so you move your hips again until he stops you, hands halting your movements.

"If you keep doing that, I won't be able to control myself much longer, sweetheart," he chastises lightly against your lips, pecking the corner of your mouth to let you know that he wasn't angry.

You feel particularly bold tonight, letting all your passion for him run wild. It's a boost of confidence that you didn't expect to be having, but it's not unappreciated.

"You don't have to control yourself around me," you lean in until your forehead pressed against his. "I'm yours."

"Fuck, baby," Leon groans, eyes screwing shut as you roll on him again, letting you lick into his mouth. "Do you know what you do to me?"

"I have an idea," you hum against him, fingers getting into those silky locks of his. "But, why don't you tell me just to make sure?"

His hands travel up your body further until they brush right underneath your breasts as you hadn't bothered with a bra after your shower. He makes a noise of delight upon discovering this, fingertips brushing lightly against one of your nipples and you choke on a gasp from the sensation. As revenge, you swivel your hips so that you can feel him through the slutty gray sweatpants he'd adorned before you showed up.

If you noticed an insistent hardness poking at you–well you weren't one to complain.

Leon borderline moans and you have to resist begging him to fuck you right there just to hear him more. Instead, you lean into his touch as much as you can to absorb it all, head full of nothing but him. How many times have you thought about this? So many nights you thought about how it might feel to have his hands on your body and his tongue shoving into your mouth in the sinful way it was doing right now.

If this is what brought you to hell, then you'd look the demons in the eyes and tell them that Leon had shown you heaven without you ever having to step foot into it.

"You make me so unfocused," he begins, thumb pads running circles around your nipples as he hikes your shirt up even farther. "You distract me from my work and make me say and do things I never usually do."

"Then I suppose we're even," you quip sassily.

You cry out when his teeth suddenly latch sharply on your neck, sucking harshly and tongue swiping over the mark to ease the pain. One glance down shows mischievous blue eyes staring back at you, drinking in your reactions like a fine wine he needed to stay alive. Cheeky bastard.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs in awe. "How did I ever get so lucky to be blessed by you?"

"Blessed is a strong word," you laugh lightly, pulling your hands away to pull off your shirt eagerly. "I'm no angel, Leon."

His tongue darts out to lick those pretty pink lips that have swelled from the pressure of your mouth on his. A feeling of pride wells in your chest, knowing that even just for tonight, he was yours.

"You're right," he runs a hand up and down your thigh, leaving a trail of warmth in the wake of his touch. "A goddess is a more fitting title. I'd worship you daily on hands and knees."

His sweet words make your head spin wildly and you need him more than anything. You hook your arms around his neck, pulling him down so that he hovers over you as your back hits the mattress. It's some sort of memory foam–probably the best kind one could afford judging by his salary.

"I know you hate your apartment," you whisper and he goes slightly rigid. Assuring him gently, you caress his face in your hand. "Let me make it a home for you. Let me give you a reason to like it."

You want the memory of you to be imprinted here everywhere you could, the same way that he left pieces of himself at your place like invasive little dust bunnies sitting in small corners waiting to be discovered. Everywhere he looks, you want him to see you.

"Make me yours," you beg, hands trailing downward and tracing the v-line through his shirt.

Eagerly, Leon's body covers yours, and you think that even if he kissed you with bloody lips, it would still be the sweetest taste you ever had.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

The morning glow wakes him up slowly, kissing his eyelids and rousing him from sleep. Unlike every day he woke up in his apartment, the golden light doesn't seem as intrusive anymore.

Leon's brain lags momentarily, fingers skittering across the mattress next to him instinctively in a way he's never felt the need to before. He brushes against bare skin and latches on, pulling your naked body towards his own. You mumble incoherently but allow him to draw you in, making yourself comfortable against his chest as his arm circles your waist.

You fit together like pieces of a puzzle meant to be together.

For a moment, all that's left is your quiet breaths as you avoid getting up. Since you were instructed to stay home due to medical concerns and Leon had his grace period after such an intense mission, the two of you were in no hurry to leave the bed. After all, the memory of what occured the night before just made cherishing the present all the more important.

Moments of your night together flashes through Leon's head and he preens knowing that bruises in the shapes of his hands and love marks stretch along the length of your body. Surely, you'll scold him for placing them in such visible places for when you do inevitably return to work, but right now, he could just call it his masterpiece.

That possessive monster in his chest is sated for now.

You move in his arms, making a small noise of contentment before pressing a lazy kiss to his chest. Leon's heart soars.

"Good morning to you too, sweetheart," he laughs and the rich noise vibrates against you. You want to get high off the sound of his gravelly morning voice. "How'd you sleep?"

"Really good," you yawn, opening your eyes in a squint finally and looking up at him. "But, I am pretty sore. You really did a number on me last night, babe."

That shit-eating smirk he grows is enough to make you roll your eyes. You're sure that he considered your activity a light work out while you were exhausted by the end of round one. Nonetheless, you wouldn't have traded your time together for anything.

You trace shapes into his bicep, appreciating his muscle and wishing you could tell him all the things you've wanted to for the longest time. However, one of the biggest questions still lingers on the forefront of your mind that you can't help but ask.

"What does this mean for us?" You ask hesitantly. "We said a lot of things last night."

"We did," he agrees easily and tilts your chin up to face him. You notice that eye contact seems to be a big thing to Leon and you're not one to deny him that small comfort. "What do you want to be?"

“You really want me to say it out loud?” You frown.

“If you want to.”

The silence is almost deafening but it’s not uncomfortable as Leon awaits your answer patiently. There’s so many words left unsaid, so many things you want to pour out to him and beg him for. Instead, you pull a distant memory from your head and divert the heavy question you had asked yourself.

“Did you mean it?" You whisper, eyes fluttering closed when Leon cradles your face gently. His warmth is addicting. "I mean when you told that guy that I was yours."

He blinks in surprise. “You heard that?”

“Barely,” you admit sheepishly. “I was still conscious enough but I heard you.”

Leon doesn’t need to think about the response. "Yes," he replies without hesitation. "If you want to be mine, then I am yours."

"Okay," you smile, turning your face to kiss the palm of his hand lovingly. "We'll be each other's."

He swoons, melts in your presence and lets himself plummet like Icarus when he flew too close to the sun.

After a period of silence, you finally say it.

“I want us to be lovers.”

Time seems to freeze in place as those words fell from your lips. Leon waits with a baited breath, to see if you might backtrack or regret it. No such denial comes and he buries his nose into your hair.

“Alright,” he murmurs. “We’ll be lovers.”

“This sounds stupid. Like we’re kids playing house together or some shit.”

He laughs, kissing your forehead and letting himself revel in the feeling of love. This all-encompassing warmth that makes him feel so alive and in the moment–something he hasn’t felt in years–that you somehow reignited. You, a miracle in his life. You, who wanted to be lovers.

“Leon.”

“Hm?”

“I…”

You pull back, look him in the eyes and resist the tears that threaten to roll out of your eyes because this is everything you’ve dreamed of since you met him.

“I love you.”

Leon’s expression shifts, eyes widening like he couldn’t believe his ears before he’s on you in a second, kissing you everywhere he could reach. He steals the breath from your lungs as he tugs your mouth to his and grants you a bruising kiss, all of his emotions knocking over and translating through his actions stronger than any word could describe.

“I love you,” he whispers against your lips, “I love you, I love you, I love you. I’ll say it every day until we grow old, I swear.”

You have to giggle at his cheesiness, though you don’t complain at all as you kiss him again.

“I’m not leaving you again. Move in with me, I–” He chokes on his words, “–We can make this apartment ours instead of just mine. There’s a high-tech security system installed so you’d be safe, and you won’t want for anything. Whatever you want, you'll have it.”

You can’t help but poke fun at him, even in this tender moment where you’re more than ready to drop everything and move your whole life into his place. “Even if I want kids?”

“Especially if you want kids,” he cooes. “Having a family with you would be a dream, baby.”

“Then I’ll make them come true,” you promise. Then, because you can’t help yourself, “I love you.”

“I love you.”

You love him and he loves you, just as everything was destined to be.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

You stumble out of the bar, a wide grin plastered on your face and cheeks alight with a strong blush. The world tips under your feet, though steady hands stabilize you and lead you through the fog of your thoughts.

Still never as much of a drinker as Leon is, you find yourself in a familiar setting as your fingers lace with your lover’s perfectly. This night is less innocent, less questioning as you blindly follow wherever you’re led. Tonight was a celebration, and you intend to cash in your joy entirely to the man who promises you only good things.

You land in a car seat, expensive leather under you as Leon shuts the door and crosses to the driver side.

For some reason, you can’t stop smiling though you can’t exactly figure out why. Maybe it’s because you’re in love. Maybe it’s because you’re grounded with the knowledge he loves you too.

Lifetimes ago, you would have given anything in the world to hold his hand or be close to him as long as the intrusive watching eyes weren’t around to see it. Back then, you hid and concealed your feelings to save a reputation that wasn’t even yours. It seems so foolish now that you were so desperate to keep him away from you, whereas now, you don’t think you can live without him.

Maybe if you were in the same mindset now, you would be panicking at the blurry car lights that pierce through the windshield and spotlight directly onto your figures.

Two headlights, two watching eyes.

Without thinking, you turn in your seat and pull Leon close, kissing him eagerly as he returns the gesture enthusiastically. Your lips mold perfectly to his and it’s just like your first kiss all over gain, but even better.

Millions of years ago, you would reel back in horror and think about what this entailed for you two. Right now, you don’t really give a damn.

Many things have changed since that fateful night, and equally, many things have evolved and developed within your relationship. No matter what happened, though, Leon was always there to assure you that he loved you. No matter what, he was there for you even when he was across the country on a mission.

The Las Plagas incident had left a scar on both of you, and afterward, Leon was terrified to leave you on your own every time he was assigned to a mission. However, you assured him that you can defend yourself well enough now. After all, you never have a handgun too far away from your grasp at all times.

He’s trained you well.

Your shared apartment is more than safe, and you’ve successfully removed the bad taste in Leon’s mouth regarding the place. The walls have pictures of you two together and your plants thrive under the sun they gain from the large windows. Your couches are strewn with unique little pillows and hand-knit blankets and are large enough for both of you to sprawl out on movie nights.

It's warm, no longer cold and empty and bare in the ways that made his disdain for his own existence grow.

The bookshelves are full of novels of all kinds, though the most precious book resides in your nightstand.

A little black journal whose pages weren’t even used up all the way.

Leon had taken the time to read it thoroughly afterward when the minutes weren't counting down to your demise. You had sat right next to him, chin hooked over his shoulder as the tears welled hotly in his eyes at the messy emotions you had leaked onto the pages with your pen. You’d kissed them all away, assured him that things have changed, and promised that it was all in the past.

No regrets, no doubts, no more monsters.

The rational part of your head reminds you that all those reports waiting for you at the office tomorrow would be a pain in the ass. It doesn’t matter, though. Right now, the present matters, and right now, Leon was with you.

He was here with you after a night of drinking sitting in a car with matching dopey grins and flushed cheeks, totally and completely in love.

“I love you,” Leon murmurs affectionately.

"I love you too,” you return, just as enamored.

People could stare through the car lights, watch you, and whisper, but their opinions didn’t matter–not when you had an eternity of a lifetime ahead of you with him.

The matching wedding bands on your and Leon’s ring fingers agree.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #resident evil x reader #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil #resident evil fanfiction #leon scott kennedy #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon x reader #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #resident evil leon #resident evil fic #resident evil x you #leon kennedy fanfic

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mimisempai · 7 months

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A new step

Summary

After an unfortunate incident, Aziraphale finds himself covered in paint, and despite Crowley's miracle, the angel still feels dirty.

But, when Crowley suggests a bath, Aziraphale doesn't expect this to be a new step in their relationship.

Notes

Our angel and our demon experiment a little more with intimacy (Still non-sexual and will remain so)

On Ao3

Rating T - 1795 words

Aziraphale turned to Crowley before opening the shop door and said, "I'm going to check on the progress of the renovations.

Crowley replied, "Remind me again why we can't work a small miracle to renovate the shop front and put up with this inconvenience?"

Aziraphale sighed and replied, "Because, for the tenth time, we've been getting a lot of attention lately, and people will know right away if the front of the bookshop is renovated overnight."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it."

Aziraphale smiled indulgently and went through the door.

"Watch out for the scaffold-..."

Too late.

Aziraphale didn't have time to take a step aside before he found himself almost completely covered in wine-red paint.

"Angel?"

Crowley came in at a fast pace and, seeing the extent of the damage, couldn't help but gasp, "Well, you don't do things by halves."

Aziraphale began to get upset and said in a high voice, "Help me get in, it's horrible all this red paint on my clothes. Crowley! Stop laughing! It's not funny!"

Crowley closed the door behind the Angel and said with a smile on his face, "Sorry, Angel, but I was thinking about what you said before, about not being noticed! I didn't think you meant blending in so much."

Aziraphale pointed a finger at him, "You, you little..."

He stopped mid-sentence as Crowley repeated the miracle of that day at Tadfield Manor. In one breath he had just made all the paint disappear.

"Oh..." the angel said, suddenly calm, "Thank you, my dear."

"You're welcome, Angel... hm, what is it?"

He had noticed that Aziraphale had just made a face.

The angel asked, looking a little embarrassed, "Do you think you could do it again, I feel like I've still got some in my hair."

Crowley frowned, then circled him before examining his hair carefully. He said gently, "There's nothing left at all, angel, you're all clean."

Aziraphale replied, "Still, I feel like I've got paint on me."

It was Crowley's turn to look embarrassed as he said quietly, "How about a bath?"

Aziraphale frowned and replied, "It's true, there's a bathtub up there that I never use, hmm, maybe you're right, I could try taking a bath," then he looked at the demon more closely, "But why do you look embarrassed telling me that?"

Crowley replied, his cheeks blushing slightly, "Because I was thinking of helping you..."

Aziraphale also began to blush slightly and replied in an equally embarrassed tone, "Ah... er... yes, I... all right."

"'All right'?"

"Why, don't you want to?"

"Idiot, I offered, didn't I?"

They both started to chuckle and Aziraphale replied, "Look at us, looking embarrassed like a couple of idiots."

Crowley took his hand and said gently, "Well, it's a new level of intimacy that we haven't experienced before, so it's only natural that we're a little embarrassed. But if you agree, I'll help you as much as I can. We both know our limits and how to express them. So you have the last word."

Aziraphale lifted the demon's hand to his lips and kissed it tenderly before replying, "I'd like to, actually. But..." he paused, clearly flustered.

Crowley stroked his cheek and asked softly, "What is it, Angel?"

Aziraphale bit his lip and lowered his eyes before replying, "I have to get completely undressed... and..."

Crowley made him look up and said quietly, "That's better indeed, but I'm going to suggest something to make the situation easier. I'll prepare the bath, you put on something more comfortable, and when the bath is ready, I'll let you undress and get into the water, and I won't come back until you're ready. So what do you think? Do you think it'll be easier this way?"

The angel leaned his cheek into the demon's hand and nodded, "Yes, I think so."

Crowley leaned down, gave the angel a tender kiss on the forehead and headed for the stairs.

Aziraphale followed closely, feeling a mixture of apprehension and anticipation at the thought of what was about to happen.

Once in the bedroom, he heard Crowley humming in the bathroom and his apprehension eased slightly.

A few moments later, dressed only in a bathrobe, he stood in the doorway of the bathroom and saw Crowley sitting on the edge of the tub, checking the temperature of the water.

Then he recognised the sweet scent entering his nostrils and said softly, "Bergamot, orange blossom, lemon... that's the fragrance of my cologne."

Crowley turned to him, "Absolutely Angel, I thought it would help you ease into it," he stepped closer and continued, "The water is at the right temperature I think. So I'll leave you to it and wait for you to call me when you..."

"Stay."

Crowley, not sure he had heard correctly, asked, "What did you say?

Aziraphale said in a voice he tried to keep firm despite his apprehension, "I want you to stay."

Crowley asked, watching him closely, "Are you sure? You're not doing this because you think I want you to, are you?"

"I'm absolutely sure."

Crowley stepped back and leaned against the sink, saying softly, "Anytime, angel. At your own pace.

Aziraphale nodded and placed his hands on the knot that held the sides of the robe together. As he untied the first loop, he saw his hands trembling slightly and suddenly Crowley's hands were on his as the demon asked him in an incredibly kind voice, "Do you want me to do it for you?"

Aziraphale swallowed and nodded.

Crowley gently moved the angel's hands away and untied the knot, dropping each end as he finished.

The robe opened slightly over Aziraphale's naked body and Crowley placed his hands on the angel's shoulders. Then, his eyes in his, he pushed off the robe, letting it fall gently in folds around the angel's feet.

His gaze travelled up and down Aziraphale's body before he told him in a voice that conveyed his genuine awe, "You are so beautiful, Angel.”

As always when Crowley complimented him, especially on his appearance, Aziraphale was overcome with emotion, and this time it was so intense that he couldn't stop a tear from escaping his eyes.

Crowley caught it with a kiss on the cheek, preventing it from rolling away, then took the Angel's hand and led him to the bathtub, helping him get in and sit down.

He then removed his jacket and tie before rolling up the sleeves of his shirt to his elbow, fully aware of Aziraphale's gaze following him.

Then he pulled out a small stool, placed it at the end of the tub where Aziraphale's head rested, and sat down on it.

He pressed a kiss to the angel's temple and asked quietly, " Are you still all right, angel?"

Aziraphale replied softly, "More than all right, my dear."

Crowley hummed, then pushed the angel forward a little so that his head didn't protrude from the tub, and grabbed a sponge he'd placed beside him, soaking it in the water before pressing it over the angel's head, wetting his light hair, which curled even more once it was wet. He repeated the gesture several times, then put the sponge down, picked up the bottle of shampoo and took a squeeze.

He rubbed his hands together to spread the shampoo, then placed his hands on the angel's hair and began to massage gently, burying his fingers in the wet curls.

He smiled as Aziraphale let out a small sigh of contentment and leaned back into his hands.

The angel said softly, "Crowley, my dear, this is absolutely divine."

The demon chuckled softly at the words and continued the massage, running his fingers over the angel's hair.

After a few moments he said softly, "Angel, tilt your head back a little, I'm going to rinse you off."

The angel obeyed and Crowley rinsed his hands in the bath water before taking up the sponge again, soaking it and wringing it out over the angel's head. He continued until the angel's hair was free of shampoo and just as he was about to withdraw his hand, Aziraphale held it back and asked quietly, "Crowley?"

"Yes, Angel?"

"Won't you come with me?"

Crowley froze for a moment before asking, "I would love to, Angel, but, I have to ask, are you sure?"

Aziraphale turned his head towards him and Crowley saw from the determined look in his eyes and the smile on his face that he meant it when he nodded.

Crowley kissed his smile before standing and beginning to undress. He quickly removed the rest of his clothes and stepped into the bath, intending to sit on the opposite side, but Aziraphale shook his head and opened his arms. This time Crowley didn't ask if he was sure and sat down between the angel's legs, pressing his back against his chest as Aziraphale's arms wrapped around him.

He hummed contentedly, basking in the warmth of the water and the softness of the angel's embrace and body against his.

Aziraphale whispered into his ear, "I love this."

"What, Angel?"

"You and me, like this."

Crowley leaned his head against the angel's and replied softly, " I do too, Angel."

Aziraphale gave him a soft kiss on the underside of his ear and they stayed in this embrace for a long time, first in silence, then discussing anything and everything, warming the water from time to time.

Then, with a playful expression on his face, Aziraphale said, "I realise something is missing.

He made a small gesture with his hand and a yellow rubber duck appeared in front of Crowley. The angel added, "Seems appropriate for you, doesn't it?"

The demon chuckled and tapped the water to make the duck move before saying, "Angel, there's a problem, it's all alone, poor thing."

Crowley waved his hand and a second rubber duck appeared. This one had a small tartan bow, while the other now had a pair of sunglasses on its beak.

Crowley felt Aziraphale's chest tremble as he began to laugh and, of course, it wasn't long before he joined in.

When the laughter died down, Aziraphale asked quietly, "Did you ever imagine that one day we would have this?"

"What? Rubber ducks?"

Aziraphale poked him in the stomach and replied, "Idiot! No, I mean this, you and me like this, most naturally."

Crowley grabbed the angel's hand and kissed it before saying, "Imagine it, no, but hope for it, sometimes. And now this is our reality, and it's better than anything I could have hoped for."

Aziraphale kissed his shoulder and said quietly, "Yes, much better."

They stayed in the bathtub for a few moments, basking in this happiness that was real, accompanied by two little ducks bobbing in the rippling water.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story 🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable Growing Love series : here (After season 2)

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here (Before season 2)

#good omens #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #ineffable boyfriends #aziraphale #crowley #good omens fanfiction #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #GOS2Spoilers

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bad-and-drawn-that-way · 2 months

Text

Electric Love - Full Chapters

Want early chapters? Read on Ao3!

Chapter 1: Not What I Expected

Notes: Support me by reading on Ao3! Kudos and comments help motivate me to see multi-chapter fics through to the end! I'll be posting announcements for the updates here. Chapters will come out on Ao3 BEFORE tumblr.

Some shit in this will probably be really OOC, but it's fanfiction so who cares? Enjoy!

Word Count: 6090

It was a day in hell like any other. Flashing cameras, idiots who came to Vox with questions below his caliber, the whole works. The overlord was half tempted to cancel any appointments he had after the current debut he was waiting to go on stage for. The only thing he wanted was to go home and eat an obscene amount of junk food while he zoned out to reruns of one of the shitty soap operas that ran on one of his channels.

He could hear the crowd of anxious paparazzi and ass-kissers just past the stage as he pocketed his phone with a deep sigh. Ignoring the concerned crewman who signaled it was time for him to go on stage, Vox grit his teeth and stepped onto the stage, immediately adopting an entirely different persona with a practiced smile.

Cameras flashed and the crowd got louder as people cheered, shoved each other out of the way and paparazzi rapidly fired questions at him with microphones pointed his way. Vox resisted the urge to roll his eyes. You’d think that any experienced reporter with half a brain cell would know the chances of getting a response to such behavior was zero to none, and yet he was so familiar with the approach that it was boring.

Despite his disdain, Vox waved and grinned proudly as he stepped up to a podium in front of a large screen. "Hello my loyal audience and fans,” he speaks with a clear and confident tone. “Today we at VoxTech have quite the exciting announcement to make. For too long, we have been limited to regular television and radio media, well no more! Introducing VoxTube, the new innovative way to stream content and enjoy it at any time.." the crowd cheered and whistled louder at the sound of the word 'streaming' and then they all gasped at once during the reveal.

Vox paused to dramatically look away from the crowd for a moment, his eyebrows arching and the corner of his mouth curling up slightly, before looking back towards the crowd again with a smug grin on his face. "And now.. for the moment you've all been waiting for... the grand reveal!" Vox said as the crowd grew even louder with excitement.

Just as the screen behind him shifted to reveal the new platform, the screen flickered before showing a logo that was very much not his. In fact, it was the logo of the damned rival company that had been a thorn in his side for the past few months. “Oh for fucks, sake, not this again,” he muttered as he looked to the side to see his production crew scrambling behind the scenes to shut down the takeover.

The large screen was supposed to be demoing the “new” platform that was really just a rehashed regurgitation of an older platform. This was supposed to be just a quick cash grab, but now it was just a problem. Vox glared at the stupid halo logo as an unfamiliar, but jovial voice seeped through his speakers like a virus.

"Tired of being controlled? Tired of not being about to tell if your information is being leaked or if VoxTech is brainwashing you?" The voice asked as it revealed distasteful footage of mindless sinners in front of VoxTech products. "Then try Eternal Entertainment. Your anti-Vox streaming and video platform, completely free of VoxTech networks. Take back control of your experience!"

The crowd was silent as the screen played a jingle before going dark. It took all the self-restraint Vox had not to glitch out on the stage when he knew the cameras were still rolling. Immediately, the crowd had their phones out, downloading the new app. Reporter cameras were flashing as sinners got as close to the stage as they could. Microphones were shoved in Vox's direction as a dozen voices asked him about the new competition.

"Ah-ah-ah... Now, let's not be so hasty, hmm?” Vox turned to the crowd with a strained grin. “This so-called 'Eternal Entertainment' is merely slander propaganda! There’s no history, nor a face to the name of this company. There’s nothing to trust! At VoxTech, we care about users' safety and provide hell-wide coverage that this ‘competition’ simply can’t beat." Vox said, trying to convince the crowd that it was a mistake to download the rival platform.

"What about the rumors of Vox programs being coded with hypnotic influence?” A reporter asked as they shoved down another. “This new rival platform promises protection from the threat of corporate dating mining and influence. What do you have to say about that?" A reporter asked.

"Hypnosis? No no, no.. that’s ridiculous!" Vox scoffed, shaking his head as he tried to sound convincing. "It’s already been proven that any rumors about such malware were nothing more than scandalous lies created to discriminate against the powers of tech demons like myself,” Vox said, theatrically shaking his head as he played the card his PR team had him prepared for at all times.

“Look, you know you can trust and rely on the wonderful VoxTech. We have been nothing but honest and transparent... unlike those frauds at 'Eternal... uhh..'," Vox tried to remember the name of the rival platform.

"Eternal Entertainment!" Someone from the crowd yelled. "It already has 300,000 downloads!"

"See? That’s nothing!” Vox laughed with a strained smile. It was something. Low numbers for a platform overall, sure. But to already have that many downloads mere minutes after the hijacked debut? Yeah no, Vox was freaking the fuck out.

The crowd continued to get louder, and Vox felt anxious electricity thrumming through his veins. Everything was getting overwhelming and he only had so much bullshit he could come up with on the spot before he started contradicting himself. He continued to smile as his magic pulsed through the nearby cables of the stage as he searched for anything he could use as an escape. He found a security camera in an alleyway a few blocks over and put on a professional grin. He just needed a closing statement, and he'd get out of there. Easy.

"Well then," Vox cleared his throat and put on his best, most charismatic smile. "I promise you all, this so-called “Eternal Entertainment”, is nothing but a passing fad! It's just a desperate attempt by the competition to try and take you away from the best hell has to offer. The very best streaming and media..." Vox's eyes narrowed as he looked around at the crowd and his smile slowly faded. "Me."

The chaotic crowd suddenly fell silent as his screen flooded their vision with red and black spirals. The sound of a pin dropping would be deafening compared to the frantic clamoring that had filled the space only moments ago as Vox flooded the crowd’s minds with VoxTech propaganda and affirmations. Once he was content, Vox used the camera to teleport to the alleyway while the crowd was left temporarily mindless.

“F̸̛̫̝̉u̴͑͜c̵̮̀ḱ̷̩̆î̴̩͘n̴̯̬͐g̷̮͌̚ piece of shit m̷̨͙͗o̴̲͎͐t̸͉̜͒h̷̙̃e̶͎̦͋r̵̟͘f̷̱̄͒û̸̥ć̵̙ͅḱ̶̡́ę̷͎̄ŕ̵̠̳ś̶̝͗,” Vox swore as his screen glitched hard the moment he was out of sight. He continued to swear and vent out his frustrations as he kicked an empty paint can on the ground next to a dumpster. Fortunately, there weren’t any sinners passing by to witness his tantrum. He wasn’t in the mood to drop another fucker until they were brain-dead.

Once Vox got the rest of his frustrations out of his system, he collected himself and sighed. He pulled out his phone and opened the app store, cringing as he saw the rival app rising in the trending downloads. He closed his eyes and focused his abilities as his power surged through the network and hunted down the source engine running the app. With so many devices accessing the network, he was able to narrow down the location quickly.

"Perfect,” Vox said with a sinister grin. “Now to take care of this problem once and for all."

Any time he’d tried to hunt down Eternal before, Vox had run into dead end after dead end. He couldn’t track down the sinners running the rival software, nor could he track down any of their host servers. The hubris of his newfound enemy would be their undoing. Anyone in the entertainment industry worth their salt knew how easily things could be exposed upon release. By loudly announcing their debut when they hijacked Vox’s presentation, the company had left themselves wide open for him to latch onto the smallest flaws and hunt them down properly.

Vox wanted to destroy the place and make sure that their platform never gained any kind of popularity or power in Hell ever again. He finally pinpointed the location where the platform was being hosted and was pleased to find it wasn't anything impressive. There was no polish. The building didn’t even look like it was any sort of office or official business. If anything, it looked uninhabited. He pulled up the address on his screen to see what he could find out about the location’s history.

The building was a rundown observatory run by some random sinner he couldn’t care less about before one of the biggest exterminations of the past century. The neighborhood the building was near had been so thoroughly gutted by the angels that the entire area was abandoned due to superstition. Well… as abandoned as any corner of the overcrowded ring of hell could be. It was the perfect place for unsavory types to hide in the shadows.

Vox scanned the exterior and his smirk only grew as he took note of the lack of any sort of security. "This will be easy..." Vox said to himself as he locked on to a computer screen he sensed inside of the building. Wanting to get the drop on his cocky competition, he teleported his way inside the old, abandoned observatory. Vox was expecting a potential fight. Maybe guns. Probably a lab full of desk jockeys. What Vox didn’t expect was for his feet to barely touch the ground before he found himself suddenly in agonizing pain. His vision was clouded over with purple smoke and he heard the sound of glass shattering as his entire body short-circuited hard from the overwhelming pain.

Vox screamed, dropping to his knees as his systems malfunctioned from the icy-hot burning sensation shooting across his skin. His face bluescreened and his vision went dark. The last thing he heard as he lost consciousness was the sound of someone swearing and footsteps rapidly approaching him as he passed out.

----

Vox gasped as he felt his systems finally reboot. He ran an internal diagnostic as he sat up to look around, dazed and disoriented. The burning sensation had faded, but his head was pounding. His vision slowly cleared as he took in his surroundings. It looked like he was in some sort of office.There was a large, overflowing bookshelf by an open window and a desk with an impressive computer set-up on it. Vials filled with purple, sparkling mist were scattered around the entire room, all with different labels on them. The space was messy, yet somehow… cozy. At least, it felt more comfortable than the majority of the sleek areas of hell he was more familiar with.

Vox looked down and quirky an eyebrow as he held up the soft blanket draped over his lap. He tried not to think of what sort of diseases could be lurking in the old couch he was lying on as he processed the situation.

"W... what..? Where am I… How did I get here...?" Vox said as he blinked a couple of times, trying to remember what had happened before he lost consciousness. "What the fuck is this place?"

"Oh shit, you're awake!" A voice startled Vox and he tossed the blanket off of him as the door to the office pushed open. He hadn’t noticed that it had been cracked open, nor had he noticed you waiting for him to wake up out in the hallway.You’d been leaning against the doorframe and scrolling through social media as you waited for him to regain consciousness.

You stepped into the room, smiling sheepishly as you pocketed your phone, “Sorry, I didn’t want you to wake up alone and be confused, but it also felt weird to just sit in here. How are you feeling?”

Vox didn't know what to expect when it came to his new rival, but he couldn't have imagined you. Hell was full of sinners of all shapes and sizes. Vox had seen some crazy shit, but he’d never seen someone as… soft as you. You weren’t dressed to the nines or in some wild costume like most. Instead, you were just wearing sweatpants and an oversized hoodie with your hair pulled back in a messy bun. You looked like a burnt-out college student rather than a sinner trapped in hell.

“You know,” you smirk. “I may not have been the one running the campaign against you, but you may have wanted to take that whole anti-Vox thing a bit more seriously before just barging in here.”

"You're... the owner of the rival platform..?" Vox said as his eyebrows furrowed.

"Yes and no," you cringe. "Normally, I’d be chasing you out of here with a broomstick, but I might have royally fucked up and have no idea what I’m doing," you admit.

“What?” Vox asked flatly. He had been expecting tech bro assholes who would monologue at him in an attempt to piss him off. He’d been expecting the run-of-the-mill hellish power-hungry welcome he’d come to love tearing to shreds any time someone was stupid enough to try to overthrow him. He expected literally anything else but this.

“It… would probably be easier to just show you,” You sigh as you walk over to your computer and wake up the idle screen.

Vox stood from the couch and crossed the small office to look at the screen. It revealed that millions of sinners had already made accounts on Eternal Entertainment’s new platform, and a decent amount of accounts had already started uploading content. To say it was successful would be an understatement.

"Millions..." Vox muttered under his breath, feeling more and more threatened by the platform as he saw the success it was already having. "How the hell did you manage to pull this off?"

You chuckle, rubbing the back of your head nervously. "Yeah, uh, about that... I don't... know."

"You don't k̴n̷o̵w̵?̴" Vox flipped on you with a spark. His eye twitched as he tried to pick apart your game. Were you bragging? Were you about to threaten him? Were you a fucking idiot?

"Excuse, the fuck, me?” Vox growled as he grabbed your hoodie and pulled you forward. “Do you mean to tell me this was just some fucking pet project or some shit?"

"Yes and no?," you cringed as Vox made it clear how fed up he was getting with that answer.

Normally, you wouldn’t let anyone yank you around, but you’d dug yourself into some pretty deep shit. The guilt that came with that kept you complicit for the time being, but you still pushed his hand off of you.

"The truth is, I… made the platform,” you admit sheepishly. You’re quick to defend yourself as you see Vox’s expression fill with rage. “But I’m not the one who released it and I don’t work for Eternal. I swear!”

“You realize how fucking fake that sounds, right?” Vox growled as he felt his claws itch with the desire to rip you apart.

“Yup,” you swallow. “I understand the shit sandwich I landed myself in very much, Mr. Big Scary Evil Overlord Sir.”

“But,” you say as you pull back your desk chair and pull up your browser. “I have proof. If you don’t believe me after you look at it, you can kick my ass to your heart’s content. But I think you’ll quickly realize I do not know what the fuck I’m doing and I couldn’t have made this shit the way you’re thinking I did, even if I tried.”

Vox squinted at you with distrust as he looked between you and the chair. He grabbed the back of the offending furniture far tighter than was necessary and yanked it out of your hand as he sat down with a grumble.

He started scrolling through the history of your browser and clicked through the tabs you’d left open for him. It looked like you had signed up for some sort of coding workshop and had no idea what you had signed up for. What was poorly disguised as a hands-on tutorial for beginner video game coders to learn how to make mock platforms for marketing was a trap to lure in people to do Eternal’s dirty work. It was the sort of thing that would never pop up on Vox’s radar. It was obviously a scam to the trained eye and a weak attempt at throwing suckers like you under the bus.

“You’ve got to be fucking joking,” he said as he looked up at you incredulously.

Your face flushed and you looked away from him with an embarrassed frown as you crossed your arms. “Oh fuck off,” you grumble. “I’m broke as hell and it was a free course in an area I need to learn to make my games. It sounded too good to be true.”

“Because it was, dumbass,” Vox snorted as he shook his head and kept digging. He followed the data trail of the domain the workshop was hosted on and pulled up a few unrelated tabs that you hadn’t already pulled up from him so he could figure out how you’d discovered the suspicious content in the first place.

“Hey!” you gasp as you try to stop him.

“If you don’t want to end up an electrified shish kabob on the floor, you’ll let me work,” Vox said, not taking his eyes off the screen for a second as he installed some of his searching software to run in the background of your system.

You huff, watching him continue to dig through your computer before you turn on your heel and walk out. “Just don’t move or delete anything.”

Vox rolled his eyes as he continued his search. He quickly understood where your worries stemmed from. He hadn’t paid too much attention to your mention of it earlier, but it was obvious you were some sort of video game developer. There were folders filled with concept designs, dialogue chains, and amateur attempts at programming. It seemed while you thrived in the creator side of things, your tech knowledge was severely lacking. A quick invasive peek at your bank account showed that your funds were as well. You had big visions for someone with only yourself as a resource.

He paused as he opened a folder in your files that was filled with what appeared to be pictures of you and what he assumed were your friends. His eyes widened as he recognized several faces smiling innocently compared to the lewd expressions he’d seen them make in Valentino’s films. What caught his attention even more was the multiple pictures of you with Angel Dust and his little cyclops friend who had a knack for explosives.

Before he could dig any further into your personal life, several windows popped up to let him know the diagnostics had finished running the background.

Vox’s leg started to bounce with anxious energy as the reports from the programs he’d run earlier started to flood in. He immediately followed the trail of information and found several other websites connecting to Eternal that eventually led him to a secluded forum with all sorts of shady shit. He opened several threads that related to himself and the other Vees and inhaled sharply as he started to read through everything.

"Anti-VoxTech underground network…?" Vox whispered aloud. An anxious thrum of energy ran through him as he tried not to freak out. What if this person used the platform to spread propaganda against him or to leak information from his networks? What if this person was trying to destroy him from the inside out? His paranoia began to intensify and he felt small sparks licking at his skin when suddenly, a coffee mug was thrust in front of his face.

He looks up at you as you hold out one of two mugs to him. He takes it slowly from your hand as you look at him unimpressed, yet expectantly. “Thanks…?” He says slowly as he is once again thrown off by how much you didn’t match his expectations. He looks down at the liquid in his hand before looking back up at you distrustfully. For all he knew, your weirdly casual demeanor could have all been a trick. Poisoning him in the afterlife wouldn’t kill him, it’d just be a major inconvenience. Even so, he hesitated.

“Oh for fucks sake,” you roll your eyes as you realize why he was hesitating. You stick your pinky in his cup and pop it in your mouth to show him it was safe. “It’s just hot chocolate,” you huff before you take a sip from your own mug. “I was going to make one before you just zapped your ass in here and it felt rude to only make one for myself.”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked the bewildered overlord over. “Shit, but your face… Can you even…? Wait no, that’s also rude. Fuck.”

Vox burst out laughing as you verbally tripped over yourself. Yeah no. There was no evil ploy here. You were just a weirdly endearing dumbass.

“I can drink,” Vox grinned as he finally lifted the cup to his lips. His eyes widened as he took in the unexpected taste. While he could eat and drink, he unfortunately had lost his sense of smell with his afterlife form. He wasn’t expecting the slightly sour tinge of raspberry syrup that mixed with the more standard flavor of the drink.

You watch him curiously and his eyes lock onto yours in an instant. Your face flushes and you turn away as you try to not-so-smoothly play over the fact that you had been trying to see how his mouth worked. “S-So, did you find anything?”

Vox sighed and set his mug down as he turned his attention back to your computer. “Yes, actually. Surprisingly enough, I’ve found more on your very shitty and outdated computer than my team has in the past six months.”

He ignores your offended protests about the quality of your setup as he looks through one of the forums. He ignores the way you lean into his personal space as you look over his shoulder and read the comments yourself.

“I just don’t get why there’s this large of an interest in working around my products,” Vox grumbled as the two of you read through the conversations.

You raise an eyebrow and peer down at him. "You and the Vee's don't exactly have the best rep with lower-class sinners. It may be hard for a big powerful dude like you to comprehend, but believe it or not, some people like their privacy."

Vox frowned as he begrudgingly sipped on his drink. He would never admit out loud how much it was soothing his nerves. “We’re in hell,” he reasoned. “Surely dating mining which pornos the average sinner watches to increase ratings and production quality isn’t the top concern these idiots have.”

You roll your eyes and sigh as you sit on the edge of your desk. Your hips carelessly pushed some things back, but you paid it no mind. “It goes deeper than that and you know it. Hell, I know it and I think this entire experience has proven how much of this shit flies over my head.”

Vox’s eyes drift to the vial you bumped with your hip and he pauses as he considers just how harmless you really were. While it was clear you weren’t the most program-savvy, Vox hadn’t forgotten the abrupt welcome he’d gotten when he tried to sneak in. Whatever that mist he’d been enveloped in was bottled and stashed all over the place. He still had more digging to do.

Sensing the shift in Vox’s attitude, your eyes follow his gaze and you cringe as you tuck the vial out of sight.

“So you’re not a complete idiot then,” Vox said as he placed his empty mug on the table and stood over you.

“That’s different,” you mutter as you shrink in on yourself and avoid looking him in the eye.

“I’m not so sure about that,” Vox hummed as his eyes sharply searched your features like a shark drawn to blood in the water.

His clawed fingers wrap around your jaw and he slowly makes you turn towards him. His grip was firm and the sharp edges threatened to break skin, but he was also somewhat gentle, after all, you had gotten him this far. A looming threat if you suddenly decided to stop cooperating.

“You deleted your visits to those forums in your browser history before you let me access your computer,” Vox said slowly as he watched your every expression carefully. You were avoiding his eyes, which meant you knew what he was capable of. “Why?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you say slowly as you try to keep your breathing even. You couldn’t afford to panic. “I probably just accidentally cleared it when I was wiping my cache or something. Aren’t you supposed to do that every now and then, or something?”

Vox quirked an eyebrow, looking completely unimpressed. “You’re not a good liar.”

“Oh fuck off,” you frown as you look up at him without thinking.

Vox grins and his eyes immediately spiral as he tries to pull you under his spell. You gasp and for a moment he thinks he has you… only for the spirals not to reflect back at him from your own eyes.

“What…?” Vox blinks as his grip on you loosens.

You smack his hand away and dive out from under him as you try to get away. Vox growls, whipping around and grabbing your arm before you can slip out of the office. You let out a startled yelp as he slams you against the wall and twists your arm behind your back.

“What the hell is going on? Who are you, really?” he interrogates as he twists your arm harder.

It didn’t make any sense. You were a walking contradiction. He genuinely didn’t sense any malice directed at him from you. Your search history barely skimmed anything relating to him. If anything, you had done more research on Velvette and Valentino, which he had to admit, in any other scenario may have bruised his ego a hair. You accidentally helped a rival company launch an attack against him and let him search your system without any hesitation, yet the second he locked in on those vials, you changed your tune completely.

Not only that, but you were somehow able to resist his hypnosis. He’d seen the faintest flash of connection in your eyes that told him you weren’t immune. Yet you had somehow managed to slip out of the hold he’d tried to cast over you within seconds.

“Let me go, asshole!” You shouted as you tried to slip out of his grasp. You hiss in pain as his sharp claws dig into your arm and draw blood.

“I don’t think so,” Vox growled as he tightened his grip and drew more blood. “What the hell is in those vials? And why were you on those forums in the first place? Tell me or I’ll rip your arm off.”

You bark out a laugh despite the fear, “With those fucking twigs? I’d like to see you tr-AH fuck! Alright alright!” You relent as he slams your head against the wall with his other hand.

Vox loosens his grip ever so slightly, but watches you like a hawk.

“Everything I’ve told you so far is true,” you start with a sigh. “I don’t know jack shit about most of your area in things, but I only found the workshop because I was on the forums.”

“And why would you be there?” Vox frowned. “You don’t have anything my company would care about on your systems. You’re a shit liar, but get any ideas of telling me it was for privacy out of your head.”

Your eyes dart and he can tell you’re trying to think of a way to weasel out of telling him the truth. Whatever it was, you really didn’t want him to know. Which meant he needed to know.

“Tell me,” Vox growled as he pressed you harder into the wall.

“V-Valentino,” you whimpered as the pain started to wear down your willpower. You weren’t exactly accustumed to this sort of experience despite your time in hell. You kept your head down as much as you could. You only dared to kick up dust for one reason and you’d done your best not to get caught for it up until now, but you had been careless.

“What?” Vox blinked as his grip relented.

“I,” you open your mouth, only to cringe. You really didn’t want to tell him, but if you double died without at least trying to pull something, it would only leave the very people you were trying to protect in deeper shit. Vox would figure it out after killing you anyways. Spilling the beans and trying to figure something out in the process was your only hope.

“The mist wasn’t mean to hurt you,” you say slowly. “I’ll talk, so fucking let go first.”

Vox watches you distrustfully, but releases your arm and steps back. He stands between you and the door, so he’s willing to play along if it means he’ll finally have the full picture.

“I don’t… pay much attention to hell’s politics,” you sigh. “I don’t care about power, I don’t care about overlords, but I do care about my friends.”

For the first time since Vox had gotten here, he saw something familiar flash in your eyes. The dark twisted bloodlust he’d seen in most sinners. “I don’t use my powers much,” you say as you walk over to your desk. “I’m not really trained to fight like most people down here. I’m cooped up in here most of the time, so it’s not like I’ve ever really had a reason to start shit.”

You pick up a vial and hold up your other hand as a small portal opens above your palm. “This is about all I can do,” you say. “I had a buddy who liked to research sinners abilities and I didn’t really care if he looked into mine.”

You had to bite down the fond smile at the memory of Baxter’s pestering. “He discovered that at low enough levels of activation, magic could be collected like a liquid or a mist with all his fancy tech shit. Again, you know how much of that flies over my head.”

Vox looked between your hands and nodded silently, watching you carefully as he waited for you to put together the pieces for him.

“Using the residue of my abilities, he tried to replicate that love potion shit you guys sell. He wanted to see if he could recreate it and then make a repellent.”

Vox’s eyes widened as he looked at the vial and it finally clicked. “It’s a repellent against Valentino’s magic.”

You wave away the miniature portal above your hand and nod with a frown. You hated every part of this, but at least he hadn’t killed you yet. “Like I said earlier, there's a high demand for slipping out under the Vee's control."

“Is that how you resisted my hypnosis as well?” Vox asked carefully.

“No,” you shake your head. “That’s something else entirely. No schemes or any fancy shit like that involved there.”

“Then why did the mist hurt me?” Vox frowned.

“Well, for starters,” you smirk at the memory. It had freaked you out pretty bad in the moment, but after the shit Vox just put you through, you kinda loved that he’d gotten his ass handed to him. “The guy I told you about was here and was trying to make a new batch. You literally teleported in the middle of us making the shit and knocked over the batch we’d been producing so it was heavily concentrated.”

“Secondly, you’re around Valentino all the time. When is that guy not blowing his slut smoke all around you?” You cross your arms.

“That…” Vox thought back to how often Valentino smoked his pipe around him. How used to seeing the pink smoke around him he’d gotten. He didn’t have a sense of smell so he was entirely immune to the effects. So much so, he had no reason to notice how it was completely seeped into his clothing and probably coating his entire body in an unnoticeable residue.

"Yup," you sigh. "If I had to take a guess, then that’s why.”

"And the reason you’d help your friend make this…” Vox trailed off as he remembered the pictures he’d found on your computer. You were friends with a lot of Valentino’s sex workers, including Angel Dust. Vox was a business partner, a friend, and sometimes a lover of Valentino. Valentino was notorious for the abuse of his sex workers. An abuser of some of your closest friends.

You frown, turning away from Vox, your body language acknowledging him as a proper enemy for the first time since he's broke in. "You get it now.”

He knew about Valentino and his history of abuse towards sex workers. He had seen his behavior first hand and knew the moth’s behavior was vile and repulsive. But the worst of it was never directed at Vox himself. Some of it, yeah, but… Vox hadn't really cared about anyone else. He had better shit to think about.

"I see…,” Vox hummed as he picked up another vial off the floor and twirled it between his claws. You really could benefit from some basic cleaning around the office. “So you’re planning on beating him at his own game." Vox said, his eyes narrowing as he looked at you with a mix of suspicion and admiration. "Clever... very clever.."

You cross your arms, watching him sharply as you wait to see what he'll do about it.

"You got the information you wanted." You say flatly. He knew who was attacking him with your software now. The Eternity shit he’d found on your computer was a solid lead. However, he now knew of your efforts against Valentino. You weren’t a fighter, by any means, but you were prepared to protect yourself if you had to.

Vox's eyes narrowed as he looked at you in a new light. Your lack of personal interest in politics and the standard hell powergrabs had him intrigued. He wondered just what you’d be capable of if you did play the same game that everyone else did. It was clear you were resourceful and crafty, yet you directed those efforts towards something so… mundane.

"You’ve proved useful enough so far, and I thank you for that. Depending on your next answer, I may even let you keep your insides where they belong. So, let me ask you this..." Vox said, continuing to look at you with his eyes narrowing. "If those experiments are unrelated to my influence entirely, then how are you able to resist my hypnosis?"

Whether he meant to or not, Vox just handed you the key to your survival on a silver platter. Your eyes widen and you try to hide the excitement at the opportunity as you level your best poker face. “It’s pretty simple actually,” you say as you inspect your nails nonchalanetly. A bit too theatric, perhaps, but you were trying to play it cool. It didn’t matter that you weren’t actually succeeding.

“Hypothetically, I may or may not have discovered how to counter your hypnosis,” you hum as Vox’s eye twitched. “Hypothetically, I could sell that information or simply just post it to the Eternal forums. I’m sure everyone would love to know how not to get sucked into your marketing schemes.”

"You want to make a deal," Vox realized, the corners of his mouth curling up slightly and dead pixels flickered to life under his lip. This just got so much more interesting for him.

#vox x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel vox #electric love series

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yesloulou · 10 months

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Do u have any tips/tutorial how to make gifs so smooth if there's movement? Mine are always choppy and weird :(

Hi anon, ty for sending this ask. I'm sooo honored!! (and plz don't call your gifs choppy or weird i have a feeling they're very lovely 😌)

✨ Gif Tutorial: making movements in ur gifs as smooth as possible✨ (updated)

↳ aka: speed management in gif making

Remember to always source your content responsibly!! Process in this tutorial is simply what works best for me. Every creator has their own preferences and imo there is no right or wrong. We should always make content in the way we enjoy 🤍 Outline: 1. Remove duplicate frames 2. Repair missing frames 3. Speed management in Photoshop 4. Smoother slomo using Video Frame Interpolation

1. Remove duplicate frames

Obviously, if there're duplicate frames in a video, our gifs will end up with lil lags here and there (since some frames get more screen time than others). Although the dup frames are likely barely observable once compiled into gifs, imo this is what makes the difference between smooth and butter smooth. the two daniel gifs above (guy with big brown eyes, if ur not from our fandom 🤍) can hopefully showcase this difference**.

**technical explanation for this that you can totally skip: the persistence of human vision is approx. 0.1s, ie everything we see stay on our retina for this amount of time. since gifs refresh faster than this (eg. 0.04s on every frame for a 25 fps gif), we usually can't pinpoint exactly which frame is a duplicate just by looking at a gif. however. by definition, a duplicate frame will slow down a gif, by making it pause longer than it should. as a result, a movement during this lil chunk of time will move less pixels than your brain would've expected. and this is where we perceive the not-so-smoothness.

ok, now that we've established that we don't like duplicate frames -- I know it's common practice to handle this by looking for an optimal output frame rate to offset the dupes. to me this feels chancy. bc it's a process where you don't have control over exactly which frames to keep and not keep. Personally, I prefer making sure my videos are dupe free before everything else. (Again, this is just what works for me. Everybody has their own process and imo there is no right or wrong :)

To remove duplicate frames, the first thing I do with a clip is to play the first few seconds frame by frame to see which one of the following scenarios it falls into:

a. no duplicate frames ↳ best case scenario! congrats!! plz proceed directly to step 2 b. there is a duplicated frame once in a while ↳ This happens most often with (but not limited to) videos from social medias ↳ Reason behind this is frame rate conversion. For instance, instagram/tiktok has a default frame rate of 30 fps. However, many media sources (eg. no brakes, sharl's vlogs) produce at 25 fps. When these videos are uploaded, instagram/tiktok convert them from 25 to 30 fps by duplicating 1 frame every 5 frames, hence twitchiness in gifs when slowed down. ↳ Solution: in photoshop, go through the clip frame by frame, delete dupes manually (recommended) ↳ Alternative solution: use duplicate frames remover softwares (see next bullet point) c. almost every frame has duplicates ↳ This will almost always** be the case with screen record. ↳ What not to do: When there are many duplicates, we may be tempted to use photoshop's 'import 1 out of every n frames' function. this is not ideal bc, the dupes are rarely uniformly distributed. you could end up losing frames you don't want to lose (resulting in choppy gifs) or end up with dup frames still in the mix (resulting in laggy gifs) or, most likely: both. ↳ A better way: is to import all frames into photoshop, adjust the output frame rate to offset the dupes (here is a good tutorial on this) Pros: efficiency; yields decent results in most cases. Cons: again, in my experience this is a process where you don't have precise control over the frames. Therefore runs the same (albeit smaller) risks as the method above. It can also limit how much you can slow down a gif, and generally doesn't work well if the target frame rate (of the clip you're trying to gif) exceeds your computer's recording rate**. **More on this statement: when target rate is comfortably lower than recording rate (~ 55 fps for many), chances are most to all frames will be captured. It is therefore more tolerating towards skipping a unique frame from time to time. However, when target rate (i.e. anything 60 fps) nears or exceeds recording rate, you will be dealing with dup frames as well as missing ones. Using the method above can therefore subject you to the possibility of losing two unique frames in a row, making the gifs noticeably choppy. ↳ Solution: we always have the option to trim dupes by hand in photoshop. But in this case, it can be time consuming, even with keyboard shortcuts. as a result, here is where we can really use a: ↳ Dup remover software: google search 'dup frame remover software' will give you several options and tutorials (here a plug-in for after effects). i've heard good things about some of these but unfortunately can't give recommendations (they do cost money sooo i wrote my own)

Demonstration:

This is a frame-by-frame animation of an ad Charles did for apm. It was produced at 25 fps & uploaded to socmed where the default is 30 fps. You can see that: i. With screen recording, every frame has an unpredictable amount of duplicates. ii. Original clip from instagram has 1 dup frame every 5 frames. iii. After deduplication, the movement becomes lag free and continuous.

2. Repair missing frames

At this point, our video clip is (hopefully) free of duplicate frames, which makes our gifs lag-free (yayy!!). At the same time, we don't want choppiness in our gifs either. Choppiness in a gif is usually caused by missing key (unique) frames. To check if there is any, replay the clip, look out for the sudden jumps/fast forwards in movements. Three possible scenarios:

a. no missing frames ↳ best case scenario! congrats!! plz proceed directly to step 3 b. a lot of missing frames ↳ This is usually the case if the target frame rate (of the clip you want to gif) exceeds the screen recording frame rate. ↳ Solution, imo: (surprise!) is to leave things be. Reason is that something like this would be quite tedious to fix, but not that noticeable if made into a gif that's fast enough ↳ Alternative solution: Record at 120 fps c. occasional missing frames If a video clip misses frames, but not a lot, chances are it's only gonna happen very occasionally, i.e. 1 or 2 occurrences in total. A frame-miss in this case is usually due to either the screen recording skipping a frame by mistake (in a 'slipping thru the cracks' sort of way)**, or that the original video misses frames/contains bad frames to begin with. **To my understanding, even if recording at a frame rate comfortably higher than target rate, something like this could still happen since a common denominator between the two rates will always exist. ↳ Solution (for screen recordings): record again, find missing frame (chances are it will be captured on a second try), insert frame back into original timeline in PS ↳ Solution (if video misses frames or contains bad frames to begin with): Let's talk about ✨ VFI ✨. VFI (Video Frame Interpolation) is the process of synthesizing in-between images from a given set of images. It can increase videos' frame rates (i.e. 30 fps to 60 fps), achieve smoother slomos, and by definition, also help with missing/bad frames. There are many software products that let you use VFI by simply dragging videos into the app and clicking 'export'. Afterwards, all we need to do is to find the missing frame generated by the app & insert it back into the original timeline in PS (ahh technology). For more info on VFI, see "4. Smoother slomo". ↳ Note that VFI processed footages will likely differ slightly from the originals in terms of colors & lightings. This may be tuned out using clipping masks (allow a group of adjustment layers to only apply to one frame/layer, keyboard shortcut: Command+Opt+G)

3. Speed Management in Photoshop (✨ updated ✨)

At this point, our clip is without dupe or missing frames (or at least as close as can be). Whether you dodged the first 2 steps like a breeze or freshly emerged victorious from photoshop covered in blood to get here, good news is, things will be very straightforward for this point on. congrats!!!

🎉🎊🎉

As mentioned before, in terms of smoothness, our clip is now in ideal shape. The important thing is to keep it this way throughout the rest of the process. My workflow looks something like this:

Open file, crop, resize, sharpen, color, export gif, reopen gif in photoshop (which won't compromise quality), assign frame delay, export finalized gif

If you're used to finding a comfortable frame delay or speed/duration combo at the beginning, this process might feel unnatural. But it's so so so so important to leave the speed related settings alone until right before exporting. Here's why:

By not converting frames with modified delays into timelines with fps, we avoid having to give our finished product a frame rate (which photoshop timelines have to specify). This is crucial bc, there is no such a thing as frame rates in gifs. According to the syntax of GIF89a (the current '.gif' format, screenshot below), gifs control their speeds through (and only through) how much time to wait in between frames, aka delay time. Our process above does exactly that. It compiles frames directly into gifs, and avoids expressing frame delays (a gif concept) through frame rates (a photoshop concept), a conversion where dupe frames and missing frames come from**. In other words, using frame delays to control speed is simply more natural to a gif's syntax. **Why would this conversion cause dupe frames? ↳ On paper, frame delays should translate into frame rates seamlessly (i.e. 1 second ÷ 0.06s per frame = 16.67 fps). In reality, photoshop does not support direct translations like this. When converting frame animations into timelines, PS defaults outputs to 30 fps, regardless of frame delays. This disagreement between frame rates is where dupe frames come from. ↳ Some examples: i. Consider a frame animation where frame delay = 0.04s (25 fps), to convert it into a timeline defaulted at 30 fps, 5 out of every 25 frames will be 'duplicated' by photoshop (30-25=5) ii. Now, consider a frame delay = 0.06s (16.67 fps roughly 17 fps), to convert it into a timeline defaulted at 30 fps, 13 out of every 17 frames will be 'duplicated' by photoshop (30-17=13) ↳ (the 'duplicated' was in quotes bc photoshop achieves this thru assigning a frame roughly twice it's original screen time instead of actually adding another) ↳ (afaik, currently there's no way of changing the default 30 fps as long as u start with frame animations. If anyone does know how please let me know 😳) **Why would this conversion cause missing frames? ↳ This happens when one tries to reverse the harm done by photoshop in prev step by changing the 30 fps frame rate back to what it's supposed to be (using function 'Set Timeline Frame Rate') ↳ Let's use the last example again. As mentioned, to go from 16.67 fps to 30 fps, 13 out of every 17 frames will receive roughly twice its original screen time (0.033s * 2 ≈ 0.07s). On the other hand, 4 out of every 17 frames' screen time will remain the same (0.03s). to go from 30 fps back to 16.67 fps, photoshop resamples frames from its 30 fps timeline in 0.06s intervals. As a result, any frame with screen time less than 0.06s runs the risk of 'slipping through the cracks', namely ones whose screen time remained 0.03s ↳ (gifs require frame delays to be rounded to the nearest hundredth of a second) ** What if I open the file as video object, instead of importing as frames? ↳ Indeed, when opening as video object (i.e. command+o instead of command+i), photoshop inherits its frame rate as is. We would then have the option to manipulate it's speed by right-click ➡️ adjusting the percentage (of how much to speed up or slow down). ↳ Here, if we slow down a gif without changing its frame rate, we risk introducing duplicate frames into the result (since frame rate is now higher than needed). If we slow down a gif and lowered the frame rate, but the math didn't check out, we also risk losing unique frames (frame rate not high enough). The same (opposite) goes for speeding things up. Therefore the best and easiest approach is, again, leaving speed related settings alone until right before exporting.

(the block of GIF89a syntax responsible for graphic control:)

Ok in hindsight this probably isn't exactly like. the most straightforward thing ever but the execution part is very much so 😳 here goes:

1. Open file in PS via Command + O note the (25 fps) on bottom left

without changing speed, duration, or frame rate: 2. Trim ✂️ 3. Crop 4. Resize 5. Sharpen 6. Color

(Updated!!!) 6. Export gif, and then reopen it in Photoshop **Compare to the original method (timeline into smart object, smart object back into frames), the updated method has the following benefits: i. Avoid lowering gif quality by converting into smart objectsii. Reopening gif into frames and reassign frame delay saves time (bc less steps) and won't hurt the quality at all (bc no image processing required)

7. Assign Frame Delay (i usually go with original frame delay + 0.01s) 8. Export ✨

Tada!! Speed = managed!!

This ad actually came out last December where I was aware of like, maybe 5% of what's in this post. Here is what my original gif looks like. I'd say what we have rn is a big improvement :)

Now, imo there are situations where it simply makes more sense to start with frame animations (imported using command + i). For instance: when we need to remove duplicate frames by hand, when there is a missing frame/bad frame that needs to be repaired, etc. My workflow would then look like this:

1. Command + i 2. (do things to frames) 3. Set frame delay to 0.03s 4. Convert to video timeline 5. (the rest will look exactly like the workflow above)

This works bc when frame delay is set to 0.03s, photoshop will treat your video timeline as a "natural" 30 fps timeline and leave your frames alone. Therefore maintaining its uniform speed.

4. Smoother Slomo using Video Frame Interpolation

As mentioned above, VFI (Video Frame Interpolation) is the process of synthesizing in-between images from a given set of images. It can increase videos' frame rates (i.e. 30 fps to 60 fps), hence smoother slomos. There are many software products that let you use VFI by simply dragging videos into the app and clicking 'export'. I've had very good experiences with Topaz and After Effects.

Let's talk about After Effects first. If you have Photoshop, chances are you have AE as well. To use AE's Keyframe Interpolation:

i. Import ii. Set speed to half iii. Click square twice until you see lil arrow iv. Export

Topaz is a production grade video enhancing software. It's capable of enhancing frame rates (i.e. 30 fps to 60 fps), increasing resolutions (i.e. 540p to 4K/2160p) and more. Unlike AE who uses only the two neighboring key frames to generate an in-between frame, Topaz takes the whole sequence into account, hence better reliability. It's also more user friendly than AE imo.

Here is a before-and-after interpolation using Topaz.

That's all 🎉🎉🎉

To sum up: remove dupe frames (if any), repair missing frames (if any), use and only use frame delay to control speed, and software enhance frame rate if needed.

This post got way longer and more technical than I had planned and I honestly have no idea where all this stuff came from lol. But it was really fun and I hope you'll find it helpful. Feel free to message me if you have any questions. Have fun moving-picture making!!

#f1edit #gif tutorial #asks #*#my gif tutorials #photoshop #dailyresources #allresources #completeresources #this was. 3k words?????? what?????

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autisticlancemcclain · 9 months

Text

“I swear, if you hurt him –”

“If he wasn’t trying to be hurt he shouldn’t have –”

“Hold on!” Lance shouts, finally close enough to hear. “Everyone – cool it for a sec! Hold on!”

There’s still a lot of fear on a lot of faces, and a lot of anger, and a lot of weapons raised. But when a guy riding a fucking giant beastly grizzly bear the size of a house tells you to cool it for a sec (Jesus fucking Christ, Lance), then you cool it for a sec. There’s a kind of inherent authority demanded.

Lance pulls gently on the beast’s when he reaches a respectable distance, and it stops. (Keith knows, at this point, with the demon spider and the poison plants and just…everything else, he shouldn’t be surprised, but somehow he still is). He leans down and kisses it right between the ears, which causes several gasps and, if Keith is hearing correctly, a couple fainting bodies to hit the floor, before hopping to the side and sliding to the ground. His slight smirk suggests to Keith that the show of friendliness with the beast was an intentional one.

He keeps on hand on the beast, but he turns toward the gathered crowd of people, searching until he finds whoever he’s looking for – who, it turns out, is the dignitary.

“I have come to apologise,” he says solemnly. His tone and posture give no indication of sarcasm, and in fact, he has softened his entire face considerably, looking to the dignitary with more grace and understanding than anyone has, so far, let alone the person who not twenty four hours ago was flipping them off and calling them a brainless amoeba.

“I give up,” Allura mutters after a moment of shocked silence, throwing her hands up and sitting heavily on the ground. “I rescind my position. Hunk, you’re in charge now.”

Hunk pats her delicately on the head. Lance easily ignores the both of them.

“I really am sorry,” he says to the dignitary, which Keith thinks might be a hard case to make with the giant beast of controversy not two feet behind him. “I didn’t…I think there was some miscommunication here.”

The dignitary sniffs derisively, keeping one wary eye on the beast. “If by that you mean you refused to communicate with me at all, then yes.”

Lance holds his hands up in surrender. “Yeah, fair. I didn’t handle this well. But there was something off, here. If you’ll allow me to explain?”

For a moment Keith thinks, somehow, everything is going to go smoothly (for once). The dignitary seems to be genuinely considering Lance’s offer, and from experience Keith knows how convincing Lance’s earnestness can be. Besides that, this whole alliance is rocky, and the tension is coming to a head – a civil agreement could end this whole thing. Lance, although still among the most stubborn here, is offering something of an olive branch.

But all at once, the dignitary’s eyes harden. They open their mouth, stubborn set to their shoulder, and Keith’s hand tightens on his bayard. Lance, sensing the incoming fallout, does what he does best:

He talks.

“Corduroy was as scared as you were!” Lance blurts. The absurdity of his statement gives everyone pause – who the fuck is Corduroy – and he takes that opportunity to steamroll right on, talking so fast it’s difficult to keep up but impossible to look away. “You guys expanded your city limits in the winter, right? An increase of the entire perimeter to compensate for new growth and new projects. You’ve been planning for it for years, replanting a forest farther out to prepare for what you have to cut down. But Corduroy’s hunting ground was all the way to the edge of the first.” He looks back at the bear, who Keith can only assume he has named Corduroy, and smiles at it. It makes a rumbling noise in the back of its throat and limps forward, causing several scattered shouts of fear and raised weapons, but the beast only stares at them in what can only be described as judgement before nosing gently in Lance’s hair.

Keith’s jaw drops. Lance has had, what, four vargas with this thing? Five? And it already treats him with the same quiet affection that Blue or Red do, covering him in affection when he comes buzzing into their hangars, a bundle of enthusiasm. Only this bear is wild, and untameable, and apparently scared and injured besides.

The Blue Paladin is the Paladin of empathy and fluidity, indeed.

“Corduroy didn’t intend to attack anyone,” Lance continues softly. One of his hands reaches up to stroke the flank of the beast, as high as he can reach – which is not high. He doesn’t even reach up to the bear’s shoulders. “But if you woke up from a month long nap to try and find some food only to find other people taking residents where you used to live and hunt, and all of those people were screaming and running and making a ruckus at you, you’d get defensive too, I think. In fact you did! Understandably. This whole thing was just fear from all sides.”

The queen clears her throat. “The beast,” she says. “Corduroy. It…you have subdued it?”

“Not subdued,” Lance corrects. “It was just hungry. And hurt. And a little distrusting, I think, but it seems to understand reason pretty well.”

The queen hesitates for a moment, then nods to herself. She takes a step forward, her people parting for her instantly, until she is inches away from the beast. The beast watches her warily, but does not bear its teeth, nor does it growl at her closeness.

“Don’t, your majesty,” the dignitary begs. There is genuine fear in their voice. Keith wonders what has made them so afraid, if it was just the up-close struggle with the beast itself or if there is more to it. He figures it’s not his place to ask. “Just because one inane individual has somehow earned the beast’s trust does not make it trustworthy. Remember the pain it has caused.”

“And look at the pain we have caused it,” she murmurs. The bear snorts, injured leg pawing carefully at the ground. Slowly, giving the beast ample time to turn away, she extends her hand. The air itself feels like it’s holding her breath. Her hand finally stretches out as far as it can go, and she rests it on the bear’s great snout as it bends its head to meet her. The touch seems to loosen her shoulders instantly, and with her relief the rest of the crowded people exhale, tension that has been building finally coming to a head and leaking out.

“I can’t say I approve of your methods,” the dignitary says begrudgingly. “But I suppose I did ask you to solve the problem yourself, didn’t I.”

Lance beams. “Yes! I was very smug about it!”

Keith hears a snort behind him. When he looks, Hunk and Shiro are looking deliberately at the ground.

“The important thing is that I think this matter is as good as solved,” Coran interrupts smoothly. His face is a mask of pleasant professionalism, and Keith suddenly remembers that Coran has been managing disastrous diplomatic affairs for longer than toilets have been invented on earth, so. Maybe they should be asking him along for way more missions than they do. “I trust, your majesty?”

The queen nods. “Yes, I think so. If you’ll return with me to the meeting room, we can outline final arrangements for the alliance, and then you may return to your ship.”

“Indeed,” Coran says, cutting a glance back at the rest of the gathered team. He meets eyes with Keith, then glances at the stubborn way Lance distances himself from the rest of them, and purses his lips. “We have some matters of our own to settle, I believe.”

-- -- --

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peeves-gurl · 4 months

Text

Fic based on this request!!

Here we go!! This was the first time I got a request, and the first time I wrote a fic based on a request, so I hope you like it!!

Warnings: My weird imagination, fluff, family argument, use of Y/N, idiot Ron

“You look beautiful Ronnie!” The twins said in unison as they walked into the common room.

The place was nearly empty, except for a few first and second year students, who weren’t yet allowed to go to Hogsmeade on weekends. The twins, on the other hand, had been banned from going to Hogsmeade for a month as a punishment from their mother for the a recent prank that McGonagall had written to her about.

“That’s literally not funny,” Ron moaned, covered in tiny porcupine quills that he grew after eating a cookie his older brothers offered him.

“We think it’s hilarious,” Fred smirked back.

“Bloody comical,” George supported.

“Fuck you! You’ve always used me as some kind of lab rat for your experiments.” Ron said, his temper rising.

“It’s because you didn’t let us use good old Wormtail,” Fred mocked.

“Oh shut the hell up George! Get this rubbish off me, and keep your worthless experiments limited to yourself.” Ron shouted, turning a few heads in his direction as everyone in the common room became interested in this fight. “Do you think it’s funny, troubling others for your entertainment? You’ve always done this to me, right since I was a baby!”

“No we haven’t. And I’m George, not him.” George corrected. “We only got into pranking after we turned seven.”

“C’mon mate, at least own up! You were the one who turned my Teddy Bear into a spider when I was three, weren’t you?”

“Are you actually still mad over that?” Fred asked amusedly.

“I’m actually mad over the audacity that you have, to think you’ll make a living out of this.” He said, pointing to the still growing quills. “I’m bloody sure you’ll end up as nothing, probably having to marry rich girls like Y/N to have a decent life!”

“Stay within your limits Ronald.” Fred scolded, and George quickly stepped in between his brothers to put an end the argument.

“Move, Fred, or George, whichever one you are!” Ron shouted, trying to shove George out of the way.

“What do you mean ‘whichever one’? Can you actually not tell the difference between your own brothers?” George said, immediately forgetting that he was trying to maintain peace.

“How does that matter? You’re both exactly the same, pathetic and useless.” Ron rolled his eyes. “Now get these stupid quills off me before I stab you with them.”

“No,” George said angrily.

“No?” Ron repeated.

“No. Not until you apologize for what you said about my girlfriend,” Fred agreed.

“I will not, because it’s true.” Ron said back.

Fred pushed George out of the way, angrily stepping up in front of his younger brother, towering over him. Unbeknownst to the three of them, Y/N had walked into the common room, having just returned to the castle from Hogsmeade. She paused in her steps, shocked to see the Weasleys fighting in this way.

“Do you know how much it hurts us to realise that our own family can’t tell us apart? None of you lot, not even Mum and Dad know us as anything other than ‘the twins’.” Fred shouted, and Y/N’s heart broke when his voice cracked with emotion.

“Y/N is our best friend Ron,” George said. “She’s the only one who’s ever been able tell us apart. You don’t know what your saying when you tell us Fred’s with her for the money. We love her because she makes us feel like we’re individuals, like we have a personality outside of just being twins.”

Before things could get worse, Y/N walked up to the boys, intending to end the debate. She marched up to them quickly, engulfing Fred in a hug, and she could feel the anger ebb out his body as his shoulders relaxed. She reached up to slightly peck his lips, before stepping away to hand a bag of his favourite sweets from Honeydukes.

She moved towards George next, giving him a little squeeze and handing his bag of sweets to him.

“Ron,” she said calmly yet strictly, finally turning her attention to the younger Weasley, “It’s really not nice of you to not be able to tell your brothers apart.”

“It doesn’t matter, love. Let’s go outside.” Fred insisted.

“Just give me a minute Freddie.” She said, continuing to look at Ron, who was now beginning to get nervous.

“Can you guess the sweets in those bags, by any chance?” She asked.

“Treacle Tart, Chocolate Frogs and Pumpkin pie.” Ron replied, slightly more tensed than before.

“Yes, but whose bag has which ones?’ she asked again.

“I don’t know,” Ron said meekly.

“I’ll give you another chance, Ron. Everyone knows these two love Purple and Orange,” she said, pointing to the bright ‘Weasleys Wizard Wheezes’ logo on a flyer lying in the common room. “But do you know who added which one?”

“No,” Ron said again, his ears turning red with embarassment, and there were a few snickers passed around the others in the room.

“Do you lot not have homework?” she said, addressing a younger students, who immediately ran off at being addressed by a prefect. “You don’t know anything about them individually, do you?” she asked, turning her attention back to the guilty Weasley boy in front of her.

“I’m really sorry,” he said softly, and his voice did indicate the truth behind those words.

“You should be,” Fred said finally.

With a quick swish of her wand, Y/N made the quills disappear, and began to lead the twins outside the common room.

“I’m sorry,” Ron repeated, this time to his brothers, “I should have made an effort to know you both better.”

“I suppose it’s not too late,” George said, giving Ron a small smile.

“And don’t you dare talk shit about my girlfriend again.” Fred warned.

“I won’t, sorry!” Ron smiled back, and Y/N quickly dug out a bunch of chocolate frogs from her pocket for him.

They walked out of the common room together, before George bid them goodbye and headed off in the opposite direction to look for Angelina.

“Thanks love,” Fred whispered, placing a quick peck onto her lips. “I really appreciate you, have I ever told you?”

“Yes, but keep going.” She whispered back, stealing another kiss, and it felt much better when she finally felt him smile against her lips.

#fred weasley #fred weasley smut #fred and george #harry potter #weasley twins #fred wealsey fic #fred weasley fic #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley fanfics

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winterspiderpurrs · 5 months

Note

Um you asked for prompts and I was thinking if you could pretty please write Pepper breaking up with Tony, and well although it was hard he moved on and after a while he started dating Peter feeling loved, and maybe altough Pepper was the one that ended the relationship she wasn't able to move even though she tried. She tried to find a way to get back with Tony thinking maybe Peter was just a phase and a notch in Tony's belt, but she was very wrong, and now has to carry with her mistake. Thank you, and I hope you have a good time on your time off ❤️❤️

It's been a year and half since Pepper gave Tony back the engagement ring. The last near death heroic save the day experience was a bit much. The last straw as she told Tony.

She packed up her bags and moved out to work from California. She was leaving Tony, not the company.

After a year, Tony and Pepper were back as friends. Tony even came out to California to show Peter the office there.

He told Pepper that Peter had never seen a true beach. It was a short visit, but it brought back memories. And she started to really miss Tony.

But a month later, when she called Tony; wanted to tell him she was thinking of coming back to New York. Friday answered and said that Tony was busy but if it was an emergency she would patch her through.

" Lab time isn't a reason to close people out. Patch me through"

" I'm sorry Ms. Potts but Boss is not in the lab. He is out on a date."

That caused Pepper to pause. Friday wouldn't have divulged that unless she was making a point. Tony was off limits to her now.

Then a few weeks go by and she tells Tony during one of there weekly business calls that she plans on making a trip out to New York. Probably will stay a few months, maybe more. Tony was fine with it, tells her he will set up a floor in the tower with her.

She wasn't expecting to have a floor so much lower then what she expected. There were more then 15 floors between the lab and closer to 20 between Tony's private quarters.

After a few weeks, Pepper finally finds out who Tony is dating.

" This meeting is important Tony! Even if you only stop in for 20 minutes."

" I'm going to be upstate with my boo. I could video in. Maybe. But depending on how busy I am" Tony wiggles his eyebrows and has a big smile on his face. "But then again Peter might take away lab time again if I put off my duties..."

Pepper rolls her eyes. " Whatever Peter has to get you to do your job. Then you can go run off with your boo. "

" Well seeing them as one and the same thats easier said then done"

"What?"

Tony pauses and spins around in his chair that was at his work station. He watches Pepper for a moment, head tilted, before his eyes widen and he snaps his fingers.

" Ah... you don't know. I'm dating Peter..."

" Teenaged Spiderman??"

"Hold on now! He is 21 now and its only been for the last 6 months. I thought I told you?"

Pepper rolled her eyes. " You said you were dating a pretty young thing. Not your one-time fake intern hero worshiping Spiderman little genius this could cause such a scandal Tony!"

" No scandal! Everything by the books. We are fine Pep"

Shaking her head, she sighed, " If you say so, Tony, but at least warn me so I can run P.R. when you are done"

Tony didn't talk to her for a week after that. But Pepper knows Tony. He indulges too much. He will either get bored with Peter once the novelty runs out, or Peter will break it off when he gets jealous of how much Pepper knows Tony.

Pepper easily slotted herself back into Tony's life. Everything was pretty much the same. The only thing is she just wasn't physical with him like before and that she wasn't going to bed with him. But they acted the same.

She had a secret weapon, though, her red suit. Custom designed by Tony, his favorite hot rod red color, Tony could NEVER resist her in his suit he made. At around midnight, she walked down to the lab, and she frowned when the door wouldn't open.

" Friday, I need to speak to Tony"

" I apologize Ms. Potts but Boss is unavailable"

" Its important Friday, just open the door."

" Let me clarify. Boss isn't in the lab. Peter has already carried Tony off to bed. Tonight was date night and Tony is required to sleep a minimum of 6 hours. "

Pepper blinks and stares. She has never been able to get Tony out of the lab. Ever. The most she ever got was sweeping in, they leave to make love, and then Tony would leave her to come back. Only two hours of sleep if they shared a bed from Tony, if that.

Tony has never given up lab time. For anyone. But for Peter it seems.

It dawns on her. She has seen Peter hand things to Tony. Peter putting a reassuring hand on Tony. Peter brings food to Tony to make sure he eats. Peter is working alongside Tony in the lab. Tony appears more relaxed. He seems less stressed and happy.

The familiar ache starts in her chest.

She has missed her chance.

#i hope you liked it!#its more pepper pov but i kinda like adding that as a twist #peter isn't bothered by pepper she missed her chance and he scopped up Tony #thanks for the ask!#you give the best asks!#writing prompt #starker #starker prompt #tony stark x peter parker #peter parker/tony stark #winterspiderpurrs

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ccycloneblogging · 1 month

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I keep forgetting to ask my questions now is the present I guess-

Well 1, love your work! This AU is so cute and full of potential trauma it makes my mind flow with ideas... one of them being REALLY trauma heavy that has me in a vice grip rn...

So anyways- your post where you showed how in your AU catnap removed dogdays legs... were the murders of the hour in the same way? Because I just- Imagining Catnap dropping an anvil on some poor soul and them getting crushed slowly after the initial impact while catnap watches in apathy- has not left my mind. It's just Saw death traps at that point.

And about the whole "Going back to the cartoon" thing catnap wanted... would that not be suicide? A fully fledged, free thinking being going back to being with a world bound by a script and it's existence only continues if it's makers wish for it seem like killing yourself with extra steps. Again- this Au has so much Trauma potential I just HMMMMMMMMMMM-

And Oc's... well who do you want to hear about? I got a few lying around... well only 2 poppy playtime ones at the moment (and like one is kinda hard coded for another AU)... not to mention all the ones I have not drawn up yet that lie within my mind.

I would not mind another reason for William posting- but I'll let you choose!

Thanks, man! :D

You have no idea how much I've had to edit the scripts and drawings I make for the blog, because I go too dark too quickly for this toon AU.

I'm gonna go on a long ramble. Bear with me.

Like - there's this one script I still need to rewrite. But the premise is that Angel and DogDay are in Home Sweet Home, striking up a conversation - though Angel is injured.

Angel: ...Do you ever just... Stop? *[Angel eyes DD, as DD is in the process of sniffing like an actual dog, walking along the walls]* DD: What do you mean? *[He pauses to look at them, his tail wagging]* Angel: This. *[They gesture to his whole self, which causes him to finally fall on to the ground with a yip]* Angel: We're being hunted by a monster, close to death, and you're acting all... *Looney*. DD: That's what I do, Angel. I was brought here to make people feel happy. Safe. *[His tail begins to wag again as he makes his way to Angel]* Angel: Great. *[Unamused]* At least we'll die laughing. DD: You know, laughter is stronger than you'd think. *[A little "Uh-huh" from Angel.]* No matter how bad things get, you just have to laugh! Even if you feel like you've lost all hope, unsure about tomorrow... Not knowing what you did wrong, wondering how the world collapsed around you... *[DD grabs on to an ear, his smile turning more upsetting. The background getting darker. Maybe emphasize some of the in game model]* DD: Knowing that deep down, it's your fault for their deaths and already missing your chains because you deserve them --- *[He immediately switches back, sunshine and smiles]* DD: A laugh can chase away the gloom! Angel: *[Disturbed]* ...You want to talk about it, Pup?

So, they're all thoroughly traumatized, that's for sure!

I plan on drawing a comic that takes place during the Hour Of Joy, but yes. CatNap has killed some humans with falling anvils, endless pits, trapping them in repeating hallways until they go insane. Humans cannot survive the same punishment a toon takes, you know. >u>

But you know, he's not entirely heartless. Just angy. A poor lil meow meow

Oh, it's just CatNap being unable to cope, being ripped out of his comfort zone and never being able to adjust with the horrible things going on in Playcare. Though the Critters in this AU are not the same as the In-Game Bigger Bodies, there's still been human experiments. CatNap would much rather take scripts and limited freedom over what he was given... You are right though. That is one of the themes I wanted to try and hit with him. Especially if I follow through with an ending of Angel adopting the Critters. Then the aftermath of the trauma can really sink in.

My man, pal, friend.

I love OCs. The floor is yours. Send 'em in!

#thanks for stopping by the inbox!#CCyclone rambles #just thinking about some ideas I've had for this AU and I'm still debating on a lot of it.#Have some rough ideas as well. I actually have a good portion written out in story format

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punks-never-die205 · 4 months

Text

Honeysuckle: Red

afab!reader x Vampire!Eustass Kid

cw: Vampire AU with blood, violence, gore, some very marginally dubious consent, 18+ only

Summary: Vampires are real, and the World Government has ways of maintaining the balance of power and peace between humans and Vampires. Most of it is simple extortion, but one person's desire for freedom threatens to upend the delicate balance and change the world completely.

Tag List: @keiva1000

Chapter 3: Hunger

You stayed seated on the couch. The master of the house had told you not to move and you intended to hold to that request as best as you could. You heard the door open and close and realized he had left you in his house, fully unattended as far as you could tell.

You were exhausted. It wasn’t just the run through the forest for hours that had done you in, it was the emotional rollercoaster that it had been from the moment you had stepped foot into this house. It was, in all ways, a sanctuary compared to what you had run from, but the experience was far more intense than you had expected.

You were neither injured, nor consumed, nor returned to the facility.

Now that relief was sinking into your body and your adrenaline was fading, there was very little keeping you awake or aware. The fire in the hearth was comforting, not too hot, and the flames were a little mesmerizing as you started to doze off sitting upright. Every crack and pop of the fire helped to keep you awake, every creak of a house you weren’t used to. Each noise hits your brain like the boots of marines breaking down the door to drag you back.

But you only have so much to give, and you’ve long since reached the limits of your stamina. Head lulling back, you sink into the couch and fall asleep.

It’s hard to say how long you dozed off, but you’re vaguely aware of the eyes on you before you open your own. Sitting across from you is the master of the house, looking unperturbed and relaxed.

“Enjoy your nap?” He asks, golden eyes glancing up from the book he’s reading to regard you for a moment before he returns to it.

“Y-yes, my apologies.” You groan, sitting up and trying to focus. You’re still bone-tired, so you couldn’t have slept for too long.

“You look like death warmed over, little flower.” He says, not even looking up at this point. “Fortunately for you, when I play with my food, I like it to be able to fight back.” He pauses, glancing up again.

“Sorry, play back.”

He lets the discomfort of the implication sink into you a little before returning back to his book. “Since you gifted yourself to me, I’m sure you can guess what that means.”

“Th-that-.”

“That I can do whatever the fuck I want,” he says, cutting you off. “I haven’t had an amusing distraction in long time, so I intend to make the most of you. With that in mind, you’re going to sleep.”

Quicker than you could see, he was beside you. One hand was under you, lifting you up and over his shoulder before he walked out of the room. “I’m going to put you in a room, and you’re going to stay in that room until I come get you.”

“Y-yes, but um… b-bathroom?” The heat of his hand against your thigh is making your face red. Aside from the earlier man-handling as he jerked you around in the dark, you weren’t really used to physical touch. Aside from medical exams and blood-typing, there wasn’t much interaction even between your fellow honeysuckles.

“There’s one connected to the guest room.” He says, walking through the dark mansion. “Leave the drapes closed, keep the lights low. If you get cold, sleep, don’t light a fuckin’ fire.”

Walking into a room he tosses you off his shoulder. You yelp as you land on the bed, and once you’re done bouncing against the mattress he grabs your face, squishing your cheeks, and turning your face in one direction. “Bathroom.”

Letting go of your face he glares down at you for a moment. “You’re exhausted, repeat the rules. I want to know you heard me.”

“Don’t leave the room. Don’t light a fire. D-don’t touch the drapes?” You answer, rubbing your jaw a little.

“… and the lights?”

“A-and the lights, er, keep the lights low.” You repeat back.

“Good. There’s more behind those eyes than fairy tales.” He says, crooked smile on his face.

“… I’m not naïve.” You grumble, sitting up.

A heavy force shoves you into the bed, and after your brain catches up with what’s happened you’re almost nose to nose with the vampire. Golden eyes hold your gaze as his fingers twitch against your hands. He forces your hands to your sides, a grin splitting his face as you reflexively struggle.

“You are terribly, deliciously, painfully naïve, little flower.” He assures you, head tilting as you can feel his breath against your neck. “The pleasures I could find in you don’t even begin with the euphoria of drinking you dry.” You can feel his fangs tease the small hairs on your body, not even truly touching your skin.

The sensation and situation have your heart pounding, in fear you think, but you felt fear when the marines knocked at the door, and this wasn’t that. Your body aches to move, but as pinned as you are you can’t even twitch. Your face is red, and your breathing is coming out wet and heavy, and you aren’t sure you could hear him over the sound of your own breathing, but you didn’t miss a word.

“The sounds you don’t even know you can make.” He promises you as he shifts again, catching your attention with his eyes. “Yet.”

You feel the weight of his knee come up onto the bed and begin to shake so much you’re almost hyperventilating.

“Shh, shh, shh, breathe little flower.” He coos, and something in his gaze and the sound of his voice forces your entire being to calm down. You’re still nervous and trembling, but you aren’t on the verge of panicking yourself into a coma.

The air around you shifts entirely as he lets you go and steps away. “Piss in the bed and you’ll be sleeping in it.” He grumbles, walking out of the room.

Minutes pass by as you lay in the bed. You’re afraid if you move too suddenly you’ll throw up from the mix of nerves, fear, adrenaline, and arousal. As terrifying as he looked, he was beautiful, and you hated that.

Once you collect yourself you make your way slowly to the bathroom and clean up a little. Looking through cabinets and closets you find enough workable pieces of clothing to cover yourself in clean clothes after a brief shower. Even brief, the warm shower did a lot to help calm you down, and by the time you climbed into the bed you were well beyond what you thought were your last legs.

It had been barely dark when you had run from the facility. It was barely light as you drifted off to sleep.

Tomorrow was a new day, for the first time in your life you slept in a different bed, and you’d wake to a world outside the facility. For now the other details were irrelevant. Your small victory was still itself a victory, and you would appreciate it.

. . . .

Tomorrow also brought a new sensation you weren’t used to.

Hunger.

Your stomach knotted in strange ways as you woke up, and at first you thought you were ill. The burning sensation in your muscles, especially your legs, and the tension in your back were reminders of all that you had gone through the night before. Time you usually spent resting had instead been spent running, or being terrified, and the carefully curated meals of the facility were not crafted for such exertion.

Even though your meals had been bigger than most others once the physicians realized that you were losing weight, it still wasn’t enough to off-set the events of yesterday. You had been so nervous when they were trying to discover why you were suddenly losing weight, fearful that your deceit and plans would be washed away by a single checkup. Fortunately, it had been written off as you simply developing a higher metabolism.

They did a few more extra tests, monitored your new food adjustments, and seemed perfectly happy when things leveled out again. You were very careful not to over-work yourself after that first scare.

Clamoring out of the bed, you walk around the room. Daylight reflected into the room through the curtains enough to allow you to see easily. There wasn’t much else in the room aside from the bed. An overstuffed chair sat near the fireplace you weren’t allowed to light, and there were only a couple oil lamps you could even hope to reach, but you weren’t supposed to use those either.

You were fairly certain that the rules of last night had been to keep from giving away that there was someone in the manor in need of light. Even so, you weren’t uncomfortably cold, and you didn’t need any more light than you already had.

The gurgle of your stomach was weird, and while it wasn’t painful, it was irritating. A new sensation, sure, but you weren’t in the right state of mind to appreciate it’s newness.

Since you weren’t supposed to leave the room, you decided to distract yourself by digging through the closet. There had been a surprising amount of clothing in there, and maybe you could find something that would fit.

The only clothes you owned, after all, were nearly in shreds. You were a decent hand at embroidery, but you weren’t sure that you could mend them.

You find a pair of linen pants and a loose shirt that you manage to hold in place with a sash easily enough. With a little adjustment you even found some undergarments to wear. It took almost an hour, but in the end you make yourself a functional, and comfortable outfit. It wasn’t like you had fashioned clothes from thread you spun yourself, but it still had you feeling resourceful.

You didn’t want to climb back into bed with your day clothes on, so you leaned against the wall by the curtains and looked outside through the small gap. There’s not much to see in the tiny sliver of area you have available, but it’s more than you ever saw from your own room before, and you drink it all in.

The exterior of the house is a light blue-grey color, with dark navy trim. It looked almost entirely black last night, but it wasn’t a scary color in the daylight. You wondered what the rest of the manor looked like with the sun up, but as you understood how vampires lived, the master of the house wouldn’t be around to get you until the sun began to set.

It was a long time to go without food, but you could miss a day without concern.

So you assumed.

It wasn’t necessarily the hunger that was hard to face, it was the hunger without anything to distract yourself. There weren’t any books in the room, or parchment. None of the sweet distractions you were used to, and you didn’t want to jog in circles. You didn’t know when you were you were going to eat next, and wasting what energy you had seemed like a bad idea.

The sun had moved across the sky some distance, and your curiosity won out over the rest of you. The doors opened in and weren’t locked, so you listened by the keyhole for a moment before carefully opening the one side. If there was someone else in the manor you didn’t want to create a problem, but you needed to at least look out in the hall before the sun set.

You looked down the hall from inside the room, and stuck your head out of the doorway enough to look down the hall in the other direction. Long stone halls with thick, blood-red carpeting. Suits of armor lined the hall, and heavy, menacing looking weapons were on display. The ceiling was high and arched, and there were murals painted on it, but you didn’t look at them long enough to sort out any details. What caught your attention was a single tray outside the door with a covered plate in the middle of it. You could reach it easily from where you were – without even having to leave the room – and so you hooked a finger on the lip of the tray and pulled it into the room.

Dried meats and fruits, a slice of bread and some bits of cheese. It was hardly a feast, but it was a load more than you expected to have. You forced yourself to eat a little slower than you would’ve liked, but despite your attempt you still cleaned the plate in under twenty minutes.

Opening the door to put the tray back you nearly fell onto your ass at the site of him standing in the doorway. The sun wasn’t setting yet, but it also wasn’t like there was any direct sunlight in the hallway either.

“Naïve. Little. Mouse.” He clicks his tongue, reaching out and taking the tray from you, lifting the lid and glancing over at you. “Didn’t even stop to think that I could’ve done something to the food.”

You pale, taking a step back. “I… you…”

“Oh, I’m perfectly capable.” He assures you, dropping the empty tray out into the hall as he steps into the room. “Terrible, monstrous, evil, blood-sucking vampire.”

“Y-You haven’t been t-terrible.” You try to keep your voice steady, but some part of you is worried you really did eat drugged food. You wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, since you had very few options available as it was. “Con-considering everything you-you’ve been… g-generous.”

“Mm, not kind, huh? Interesting.” He licks his lips and practically looms over you. “I’m still not sure just how naïve you are. You didn’t touch the drapes, didn’t leave the room – even slept like the dead too.

“Comfortable enough to bathe and use clothes that aren’t yours, and scared enough you can’t even meet my gaze.” You look up at him at that and he quirks an eyebrow. “There’s fear in your eyes, but that’s not all.”

He crouches down to be at eye level with you, if not a little lower, and grins. The expression is a mix of amusement and hunger. You almost shrink back from it, but manage to keep yourself still.

“Give me your name, little gift.” There’s a command in his voice, despite the ease of his body language and the grin on his face.

“(Y/N).” You say softly.

“Eustass Kid.” He offers. “Master of this manor.” He reaches out and barely runs his thumb over your lips. “I fed you, you should show your appreciation.”

“Th-thank you for the food.” You say it as clearly as you can, but you already know that’s not what he’s referring to. The heat rising in your face is certainly giving you away as well.

“Mmm. Naïve. Little. Mouse.” He muses again. “I’ll close my eyes for you, why don’t you try again.” He says, closing his eyes. “I’m being very generous, so don’t take too long.”

Swallowing heavily, you lean in before embarrassment can slow you down and kiss him on the cheek. You barely manage to pull away when he starts laughing. He laughs for so long you start to feel a little indignant. He tries to talk a couple times and devolves into laughter again and again before he manages to get himself under control, even walking into the hall for a moment to try and compose himself.

“Well played.” He says finally, holding your chin in his hand and tilting your gaze up to his. “Very amusing, little morsel.”

#Honeysuckle: Red #Eustass Kid #x reader #reader insert #Vampire AU #one piece fanfiction

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alexanderlightweight · 1 year

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First of all, how are you and your partner doing with the puppy? I hope you have a great day

Second, maybe for writing Wendsday some HOTI!Alec? So I have the belief that there is alot of extra classes and training along with experience to be a HOI that may be known to high up shadowhunters but not really talked about to anyone else (especially obvious siblings). That they have to know a bit of everything from politics to seduction to torture for information. Thus Alec shocking everyone with his knowledge and experience, but to him it is common. So what do you think?

hey! yes wednesday was a great day and today is also a good day, not a lot of sleep but more time to write! my partner is doing great except that @saeths keeps hitting their posting limit.

Nightshade finally has his pool back (it's a new one but don't tell him that, he popped the last one) and is relieved because it's rather hot here and we both dislike it. But he's very happy and snuggly now that he can cool off (which means damp cuddles but oh well, c'est la vie)

I completely agree with this and I have feelings especially because of a specific part in the show and it went a bit differently (i feel like i say this almost every time) but i hope you enjoy!

Alec scoffs, derision loud as Imogen pauses from where she’s proudly handing over the Institute to her grandson.

“A problem, Mr. Lightwood?” She asks, an insult because Alec is a commander, and she knows it.

“Has Jace Herondale completed his tests?” Alec asks calmly, “has he been ranked as a nephilim commander? Either by a test supervised by the clave, or during a mission led by our Elders?”

There is silence and Imogen glares at him, furious as she tries to figure out a way to shut him down.

“Now, Mr. Light—”

“I’m a commander, Imogen.” Alec reminds her, because while she is Inquisitor, she is not and never has been an active duty shadowhunter. Imogen has made politics the bed she sleeps in, and Alec isn’t nice enough to let her rest there. “Is there a reason that you’re ignoring that? The loss of my Institute doesn’t take away my rank, or were you hoping to ignore that as well?”

“Commander, then!” Imogen grits out, “this nonsense—”

“Is it nonsense?” Alec asks, interrupting her and he smirks, “what does your grandson know about running an Institute, Imogen? Or are you just hoping for a golden little angel attacking everything you point at? Because the boy you are trying to promote is a soldier. He’s not a leader.”

Alec gives Jace the look his actions and inactions deserve.

“Jace Herondale, have you completed your training to be a commander? Do you know how to run an Institute? Are you prepared to be responsible for the lives of almost four hundred shadowhunters? To keep the peace in the shadowworld? Do you have the strategic knowledge of how to form teams and how to hunt on the various terrains? Are you capable of holding your temper during negotiations?” Because Jace isn’t and they both know it, “I was raised as your brother, Jace Herondale and I know that you haven’t earned the rank of Commander, let alone to lead an Institute.”

Alec steps back and he nods to the hunters — some of them ones he handpicked and trained and so many more than slunk in on the tailcoats of Lydia and Aldertree.

“I see that my expertise is no longer needed or wanted here. I’ll see about my transfer or whether I’ll retire in a few days, be sure to tell Jia to expect my messages.”

“You’re leaving?” Imogen looks more shocked than Jace, “but you’re needed to—”

“To what? Run the Institute while Jace gets the credit? To stay in his shadow and behave, a little shadow commander for you to tug around and blame things on? I’m done.” Alec scoffs, “I have better options than lingering here while you try to tear the downworld apart. If you wish to talk to me, you can submit a formal request to the High Warlock of Brooklyn, it will be his choice if I can spare the time.”

Because Alec has to make a decision and he needs to make it now.

The one who needs him the most right now is Magnus and that is who Alec will stay by, remain by. So, he leaves, knowing that anything he needs Magnus will get him and that even the clave can’t keep his weapons from coming when Alec calls.

Alec sits on the balcony, because he’s tired and sore and his very soul and body feel battered and bartered with.

“Imogen still hiding the soul sword information?” Magnus asks him, coming out to run cool hands and rings over Alec’s face.

“I don’t know.” Alec shrugs, “I’m no longer an attaché of the New York Institute, Jace is it’s leader now.”

Magnus is staring at him, something soft and pained but also viciously gleeful. It’s not that Magnus enjoys seeing him exhausted and worn thin, but Alec knows that Magnus enjoys knowing that he’s right.

“Yes, yes. You told me so.” Alec manages to mumble out, faceplanting in Magnus’ chest and there’s a soft tut above him.

“Darling, I’d never be so crass as to point it out when you’re this upset. Though, if you’re bringing it up. How unattached are you, would you say?”

“If the Institute or the clave want to talk to me, they’ll need to request a meeting with you first.” Alec tells him, which is essentially saying that he belongs to Magnus’ now, in his entirety.

“Oh, sweetheart. You really do bring me the nicest presents.”

#writing wednesday #writing wednesdays #lumine writes #magnus bane #alec lightwood #malec #shadowhunters #shadowhunters au #my fics #my fanfics #my ficlets

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pupmini · 5 months

Text

First Date Pt. 4/Final part! (Bang Chan x Reader)

!!PART 4/FINALE!!

summary: Day to day life was perfectly uneventful, you wake up, go to work, make coffee, go home, and start all over again. But today... you met Chan. And you continue to meet chan... every day.

pairing: bang chan x f!reader

genre: strangers to lovers, non idol au, crack, mostly fluff, some anger from mc, later chapters to include: slight angst/comfort, slow burn.

general warnings: barista!mc, slow burn, adult themes including but not limited to: suggestive content, cursing, mentions of death.

word count: ~4.8k

chapter content: mentions of food, coffee shop manager!Changbin, nonidol!Chan, nonidol!Han, first meets, first love flutters.

author's note: The last and final part of my mini series! This was based off the song I Think I Know You by Sarah Barrios and Eric Nam! Please give it a listen for the full experience!! I'm so glad to see so many people who enjoyed this series, I had originally meant to just write it for my best friend and leave it in google drive lol but I figured why not share it with everyone on here anyway yk? ANYWAY PLEASE ENJOY IT!!!

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

Chris’s eyes were wide as he stared at you, searching for some kind of answer from your eyes. Something finally broke through to you, and Chris had to know what it was in case it doesn’t happen tomorrow. He had put too much effort and time into you to let this just slip out of his fingers. He let out a soft laugh and moved his head to be in your line of sight.

“No, no, what did you remember?” Chris persists, smiling through the surprise in his eyes.

You laughed slightly, taking the football from his hands and holding it up, “It’s nothing I just-- I must have dreamt it, but I remember playing this with someone.”

You had to’ve dreamed it, it was the only excuse you could come up with. Chris is just a new customer to the cafe, and you’ve never met him ever in your life. You laugh it off, and look down at the cafe table with a light flush on your cheeks.

“I must have a knack for embarrassing myself in front of strangers,” You sigh as you recover from the moment.

Chris couldn’t think of anything to say. His heart was beating so fast and hard that he was afraid you could hear it from across the table, and all he could do was smile knowing you had remembered him from day one.

He cleared his throat, and placed his phone down on the table, “I don't think it’s embarrassing,” He pauses, “Anything else seem… familiar?”

You pressed your lips together and stood up from the table, wondering how weird you’d seem if you told him that his voice specifically was in your head, “Uhm, not… not really.” You shake your head at him, and straighten your apron.

“Yo! Chris--”

A loud voice echoes through the cafe, and you turn your head behind you to see another guy quickly approaching Chris with a big smile and a computer bag hanging from his shoulder. His smile was almost as infectious as Chris’s and you took a step back from the table so he could sit with his friend.

You watch Chris’s eyebrows knit together, and his eyes flicker across his friend’s face in confusion, “Han?”

Han looked at you for a moment and then back to Chris, “Am I.. interrupting?” He asks, pointing between the two of you.

You quickly hold up your hands and shake your head, “Oh, uhm no. I just, uhm-- Thought he reminded me of someone but it was just a mistake.”

You watched the two boys exchange a glance you couldn’t quite discern, and Chris speaks up next with his eyes unblinking as he stares down Han, “Something about deja vu, you know how it is.”

You press your lips together into a tight smile before excusing yourself back to your work behind the counter. Despite the lighthearted exchange, the peculiar sensation lingers in the background.

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

As you continue to steam milk and clean down the equipment, you can't shake the feeling that there's more to this odd memory than meets the eye. The cafe buzzes with activity, but in that moment, a subtle thread of mystery weaves through the air. When it slowed, you mindlessly sang along to whatever was playing overhead in order to relax and stop thinking about what had happened earlier.

Chris couldn’t help but listen when you sang. He’d heard it every day and he never grew tired of it, noticing you favored the softer, more indie feelings songs in comparison to the popular media that played between them. He always took his headphones down from his head and rested them around his neck just so he could hear you softly singing, imagining that one day maybe he’d be able to mix something just for you.

You glance up at the two of them every so often, more specifically, you look at Chris. You chew on your cheek in thought, something was odd about the memory but you couldn’t quite place it and it was driving you fucking crazy. You look at the two boys as they bicker about something on their computers, your hand slipping off the handle of the steamer and your arm touching the hot metal causing you to jerk your hand away with a hiss.

“Shit--” you whisper, glancing down at your fingers and inspecting it before looking around to see Changbin watching you with a raised brow and you give him a small thumbs up, “I’m alright, no worries.”

“And mentally?” Changbin says, drying off a white mug with a towel. “Your head has been literally anywhere but the cafe today.”

You shrug at him, dumping the over-steamed milk from the mug and pouring a fresh bit to re-steam, “My head is perfectly attuned to my work, Bin.”

“Sure, because you haven’t been staring at that guy for your whole shift,” Changbin says with an eyeroll before reaching for the mug in your hands and putting it aside to have your full attention, “Did he upset you? I can make him leave if--”

“No! God no, Bin,” You say quickly, carding your hands through your hair, “It was nothing, I just thought I knew him from somewhere.”

Changbin freezes as he stares you down, just blinking at you. It was as if he wasn’t sure how to react, “what do you mean by that?”

You make a face at Changbin and laugh a little, “It’s nothing serious, I just thought I had met him before but it was just a misunderstanding.”

Lie. You shift your weight and cross your arms over your chest. You watch Changbin turn over his shoulder and glare at Chris before looking back at you, squinting as he looks you up and down.

“And?”

“What do you mean?” You say quickly, scrunching your nose at him.

“Y/N, i know you better than you know how to make a decent cup of coffee. What else happened that you didn’t tell him?” Changbin pressed, nodding his head to where Chris and Han were seated. Unfortunately, having a best friend like him means he knows what’s going on in your head.

You huff and your arms fell from your chest, “I found this on my doormat this morning, and when I unfolded it I saw his name and order. The same one he placed today, so I asked him about it and--” you pause.

“Is he stalking you?” Changbin said quickly, unfolding the receipt and reading it for himself, “I can report him if he’s stalking you--”

“No--God, hover parent much?” You huff, pushing him gently, “Anyway, when I sat down with him we started talking and I flicked the football at him and I like-- I swear I remember playing that with him. I remember talking with him, but I swear I have never seen him before.”

Changbin stares at you over the paper in his hands, his mouth opens as if he was going to say something then he turns around to look at Chris. You take the receipt back out of his hands and fold it back up, and Changbin looks down at his empty hands before facing you again.

“Do you remember him?” He breathes.

“Yes and no?” You say with a half shrug while your face scrunches, “I thought maybe we had met before, but I think it’s just deja vu,” You say, returning to your cleaning tasks as your shift comes to an end.

Changbin smiles softly, and tosses the white towel he was holding over his shoulder, “Deja vu sounds about right,” he says, watching you continue your work.

You let out a sigh. Something about this isnt sitting right. Reaching behind your back, your fingers untangle the bow to your apron and slip it off over your head. There was something about looking at Chris that made you feel like you were closer than strangers, like he had some way of invading your memory without you even noticing. You punch out from your shift and reapproach Chris and Han as they chatter about some project they were working on.

“Dude, this song is all we have-- we have to turn it in. JYP isn’t going to be happy going yet another week without a new song,” Han huffs, leaning his chair onto the back two legs.

“Look, I know but if she’s starting to remember then putting this song out is a risk. I don't think it’s a good--” Chris stops in the middle of his sentence when he sees you approaching them and greets you with that same warm smile, “Hey again.”

“Uh, hey--” You start, awkwardly reaching into your back pocket and taking out the paper football in his hands and holding it out to him, “I just forgot to give you this.”

Chris takes it from your hands and flips it before placing it on the table, “Oh yeah, thank you.”

Before you could walk away, Han speaks up while gently resting his hand on the table as he leans towards you, “Hey, can we get your input on something?”

The sudden question catches you off guard, but if it was an excuse to talk to Chris and figure out what that memory was about then you weren’t going to deny it. You give a quick nod and take a seat next to Han.

“So we make music, and having an outsider’s perspective on our project helps a lot,” Han starts, pointing at his computer, “We’re turning this one in tomorrow and I feel like there’s something missing from it, would you give it a listen for me?”

Han was already handing you his headphones before you could object, the bulky black over ear headphones rested on top of your head comfortably. They matched the ones Chris was wearing and you could see a bit of a flush form on Chris’s face as he looked at his computer screen intensely, as to not make eye contact with you.

The music started, a gentle piano echoing slightly between your ears before you hear a voice come in, it’s mid pitched and soothing. Han watches you expectantly and Chris avoids eye contact with you as he types away.

The voice is incredible, and without even knowing it you were smiling as you listened to it. You silently point at Han, asking if it was him singing and you watched him shake his head no before pointing across the table at Chris; who looked mortified that you were listening to him sing.

You reach across and waved a hand near his computer screen to get his attention and when he finally looks up, you give him a smile and a thumbs up. His voice was the kind you hear and suddenly the world stopped spinning, giving you the entire moment to just take it in and enjoy hearing it to the fullest extent.

The music cuts out, and you slip off Han’s headphones and pass them to him gently before looking at Chris, “I… wow. That was actually amazing, Chris.”

“Thanks… Kinda embarrassing to have someone listen to your music right in front of you though you know?” CHris laughs gently, his eyes locking with Han’s as if he was warning him.

Han rolls his eyes before facing you, “I’m gonna be real, we need someone to duet with Chris in it.”

You raise your brows at the comment, shifting your eyes between the two boys, “I think that’s a great idea. It would balance out kind of like a story.”

Han looks pointedly as Chris while gesturing to you dramatically, “See!? I told you she’d do it.”

“Woah-- Hold on,” You say quickly, a tinge of uncertainty in your voice, "I'm not really used to singing for people, let alone two guys I don't really know. It's a bit out of my comfort zone."

There was literally no way in hell you were going to sing on a song for two--well… one guy you don't know and another you have hardly any memory of. The only singing you’d ever done was for yourself. You glance at Chris, seeking some reassurance. He gives you a wince of hope, trying to encourage you, but the reluctance still lingers. The thought of putting yourself out there feels intimidating.

"Come on, Y/N. It's just a small gig," Han insists, his eyes reflecting a genuine belief in your abilities. “You were singing just a little bit ago, I think you would be perfect for it.”

Despite his reassurances, a knot of reluctance tightens in your stomach. The fact you were even talking with two random people feels like a leap into the unknown, let alone in considering singing for them.

Chris passes you a notebook, “Here, these are the lyrics.”

You glance at the lyrics, imagining the notes resonating in the studio, and a mixture of excitement and apprehension tugs at your heart. The lyrics were close to home, and your eyes flicker at Chris. He had to’ve met me before and I just don't remember it.

After a moment of contemplation, you take a deep breath and meet their gaze. "Okay, let's do it. I'll give it a try."

A genuine excitement lights up Han's face, and Chris lets out a breath he was holding. You card your fingers through your hair and laugh embarrassingly before Han quickly packs up and drags you out of the cafe with Chris in tow.

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

You stand still in a closed off room with a large window on the wall that allows you to see Han seated at the soundboard, “So… this is how you record then?”

Chris nods his head softly as he adjusts the microphone to match your height, “Yeah, this is the part of the studio that keeps all the outside noise at bay so we only pick up the audio we want.” Chris explains, tightening the knob to keep the microphone in place now that it was right where it should be.

You watched as Chris leaned over to the stand behind you, and you felt your chest tighten at the proximity to him. The warmth of his skin radiating enough for you to feel it before he stand up and gently places the headset over your ears. He leans back to look at your face, eyes flickering between your own, “comfortable?”

You nod, “y-yeah, they’re good,” you say, reaching up to touch the headphones on your head and giving Chris a smile as you shift your weight and he leaves you alone in the room. He takes a seat by Han and you watch as they speak a little bit in silence. Chris looks anxious, Han rolls his eyes at him and says something exasperated before turning to face the window and pressing a button.

“Can you hear us okay?” his voice booms into your headphones, and you give them a thumbs up.

“This feels insane,” You say with a small laugh, “Are you sure you don't want someone who is known for singing to do this?”

Chris shakes his head before finally looking at you, “Nah, you’ll do great, Y/N.” His signature smile was showing through with his words, and it made you feel at ease even when doing something as crazy as this. “You’ll have my track playing in the background so you can hear how the song is sung. We can re-take things so don’t stress if you mess up, yeah?”

You give him a thumbs up before you see Han put up his hand, counting down from five as you hear the music start playing in your ears. The delicate piano chords echo in your head again and you take a deep breath as Han finally reaches zero.

“You say down right at the corner of my table, and I don't know what it is but I swear I’m feeling deja vu.”

Your eyes closed and the lyrics moved past your lips almost effortlessly, you could hear yourself in the speakers of the headphones. When you open your eyes, Chris’s own meet yours as if he’d never looked away from you. As the music swells you watch him slowly spin the paper football in his fingers and your mind is flooded with the same memory from earlier.

You flick the folded paper and send it flying, over-shooting the goal and Chris letting out a small chuckle as he picks up the paper, “So do I get to know my opponent’s name anytime soon?” He says as he flicks it towards you, his eyes flicking up at you from your hands as you pick up the little paper.

“Y/N,” You say as you sink down into your chair to line up your shot, your tongue sticking out as you focus and send it flying through his hands. You glance up at him as he picks up the paper, “So are you like-- a part of a famous paper football league that I’ve not heard of?”

In a split second you find yourself transported to a different moment – the first time you met Chris. The memory floods your senses: the laughter, the shared conversation, and the spark of connection that had lingered in the air. It's as if a hidden door in your mind has swung open, revealing a scene that was once obscured.

“Swear I feel you in my memory, I think I’ve seen you in my dreams. Maybe you and I have history but I don’t think you know me--”

Your heart is beating out of your chest as you stop singing, the weight of this recollection settles over you. The realization is overwhelming, like a sudden rush of emotions that you weren't prepared for. Faces in the cafe become blurred, replaced by the vivid image of Chris, his smile etched into the canvas of your memory.

“If there was a league, I’d be famous by now and you would have had to ask me for my name at the register,” he says with a playful head nod as he continues to flick the paper back and forth between the two of you, “But unfortunately there’s not, so I make music.”

"You make music?" you ask with a teasing glint in your eyes, "I thought you were auditioning for NSYNC with that outfit."

He looks down at himself, an amused expression playing on his face. "What's wrong with my outfit? I thought it was a fashion statement."

You lean in, pretending to inspect his ensemble with exaggerated seriousness, "Well, if the statement is 'I'm bringing back the '90s,' then mission accomplished,” you bring your hands up to make air quotes with your fingers when you say that.

Oh my god the bucket hat. You remember him wearing stupid bucket hat. A mixture of confusion and awe lingers in your eyes as you stare at Chris and you find yourself grappling with the significance of this sudden memory recall. The once-disconnected pieces of your encounters with Chris start to form a more coherent picture, leaving you in a state of introspection.

“Have we met before? Maybe in another life I knew you, maybe if I try I’ll see right through you and I’ll remember who we were.”

Overwhelmed by the sudden rush of emotion, you find yourself only listening to Chris’s singing in your ears as you collect your thoughts. The weight of the forgotten memory mingles with the joy of rediscovery. It's a bittersweet realization – a fragment of your past brought back to life in the present.

You remember Chris's visits, his patient smile each day, a consistent presence for you. Every day, he came back. The thought resonates within you, and a warmth spreads through your chest. The realization is both heartwarming and heartbreaking – a testament to the resilience of a connection that transcends the limitations of memory.

You recall the moments when Chris would visit, sharing stories and laughter as if each encounter were a brand-new beginning. The frequency of his visits, the sincerity in his eyes – it all makes sense now. The times you were less than kind to him, and the one time Changbin kicked him out of the cafe all because you didn’t remember him. He didn't let the forgetfulness deter him; instead, he embraced each meeting with unwavering dedication.

Emotions surge within you like a tidal wave, and you feel the tears welling up in your eyes. Clarity, like a long-lost friend, has found its way back to you. Studio and music in your ears cuts out as you navigate the flood of memories that has rushed back to you. Chris, gaze never wavering from you as he watches the changes in your face, reaches forward and presses a button to allow his voice to reach you.

“Y/N, are you alright?”

As you stand before him, tears well up in your eyes, and you take a deep breath to steady yourself and you shake your head to dismiss his concerns.

“You know that bucket hat looked awful on you.”

Chris’s eyebrows furrow for a moment, staring at you as if you were crazy. Then his eyes slowly soften, then widen, and you watch his lips part as he smiles, the same one that had melted you the first day you’d met.

“Oh my god--” His voice cuts out as you watch him quickly stand up and enter the recording room.

"Chris," you begin, your voice quivering with the weight of the revelation. "I remember. I remember everything." His eyes widen, and a spectrum of emotions dances across his face – surprise, hope, and a touch of disbelief. He opens his mouth to speak, but you continue before he can find the words.

"I remember you coming in that day, your smile, the way you patiently shared stories, how I had you kicked out," you confess, tears streaming down your cheeks. The weight of the unsaid becomes a palpable presence in the studio, “I remember you showing me Han’s song, I remember you walking me home, I remember-- God, I remember everything.”

Chris, struck by the depth of your revelation, leans forward, his eyes searching yours for confirmation. "You... remember?"

You nod, a mixture of joy and sorrow in your eyes, "Yes, Chris. And I remember the first day we met, how you made me laugh with that paper football game. And I remember the way you smiled at me when I said the 90s was an awful time for fashion and how I fell for you in that moment."

As Chris takes in your revelation, a mixture of disbelief and joy dances in his eyes. He gazes at you, absorbing the weight of your words, and then a tender smile graces his face. With a sincerity that pierces through the air, he begins to share his side of the story.

"Y/N," he starts, his voice tinged with emotion. "Every day, I walked into that cafe, hoping that it would be the day you remembered. Even when you didn't, it was worth it. Your smile, your laughter – they became the highlights of my day."

He takes a deep breath, as if collecting the scattered fragments of his emotions. "I fell for you so hard, right from the start. Your kindness, your laugh, the way you were so warm and inviting to everyone – it was impossible not to fall in love with you."

"I love how you find joy in the little things, how you light up when you talk about your favorite songs, and the way your eyes crinkle when you laugh. It's like every moment with you is a melody, and I can't get enough of it," Chris continues, his gaze locked onto yours.

Tears glisten in your eyes as you listen to him pour his heart out, the weight of his love both comforting and overwhelming. Chris's vulnerability becomes a bridge that connects every memory you have of him, and he pulls you into his arms tightly.

"I love you for who you are, Y/N, and every version of you, even the one who couldn't remember,” He breathed into your hair, eyes screwed shut as he held you close to him.

“Don’t let me forget you again, okay?”

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

The blaring alarm pierced through the veil of your dreams, a relentless assault on the peace that only moments ago had surrounded you. Groggily, you fumbled on the nightstand for the offending device, your hand clumsily slapping at the snooze button in a desperate attempt to silence the intrusion before your hand slips and it falls off your night stand, alarm still blaring.

“God damn it…” You curse under your breath as a resentful sigh leaves your lips. Reluctantly, you threw off the warmth of the covers and reached for your phone, the bright screen reading 4:30AM. Your body was protesting the untimely disturbance as the coldness in the air replaced the coziness of your bed. The room, dimly lit by the soft glow through the curtains, felt like a sanctuary you were being forcibly expelled from. The cool floor beneath your feet served as a stark reminder that the inviting embrace of your bed was now just a fading memory.

As you stood there, the harsh reality of the impending workday began to settle in. The day ahead loomed like an insurmountable mountain, and as much as you didn’t want to go make coffee for stuck up business men and housewives with too much time on their hands, you promised to open the shop this morning and you were absolutely kicking yourself for it.

Dragging yourself toward the bathroom, you squinted against the bright light, your reflection in the mirror a testament to the reluctant and incredibly rude awakening. With each passing minute, the realization that the sanctuary of sleep was slipping away. The only thing keeping you moving was knowing you got to have a free cup of coffee as soon as you got there.

The clock ticks, the seconds slipping away, and with each passing moment, the inevitable draws nearer. You stare at the ceiling, contemplating the merits of calling in sick, but reality nudges you with a firm reminder of bills and responsibilities. With a heavy sigh, you brush your teeth and hair as you attempt to blink away the grogginess in your eyes. The morning routine is a series of half-hearted motions. Your reflection in the bathroom mirror wears the exhaustion of someone who'd rather be doing anything but going to work.

The uniform feels like a straitjacket, but you squeeze into it, donning the required apron with a resignation that accompanies the mundane. As you lace up your shoes, you can almost hear the distant and antagonistic laughter of those still wrapped in the warm embrace of their dreams.

The walk to work is a slow march, the chilly air of Seoul biting at your skin. The vibrant sunrise paints the sky, a cruel juxtaposition to your muted mood. The comforting scent of freshly ground coffee wafts from the shop, a mixed blessing as it both heralds the start of another day and wraps you in the familiar embrace of your workplace as you tuck yourself behind the counter swiftly.

The clock on the wall seems to mock you, displaying a time that's far later than you intended to arrive. With an apologetic smile, you make your way to the locker and quickly toss an apron over your head, hoping to go unnoticed.

However, your hopes are dashed as you hear a playful voice from across the room. "Well, well, if it isn't our resident time traveler. Did you bring back any cool gadgets from the future, Y/N?" your boss Changbin teases, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

You chuckle nervously, appreciating the light-hearted tone. "Just a tardiness superpower, I guess. I thought I'd share it with the team today," you reply, feigning innocence.

Changbin leans against your desk, a smirk playing on his lips. "Ah, the infamous tardiness superpower. I've heard it's all the rage in the superhero world. Fashionably late, right?"

You nod, playing along. "Exactly! It's the new trend. Fashionably late is the new on-time."

Changbin laughs, shaking his head. "Well, as long as you don't start wearing a cape to work, I think we can forgive a little tardiness now and then. Just don't make it a habit, superhero."

Customers trickle in, their orders becoming a monotonous hum. With each espresso shot pulled, you feel a little more awake, a little more alive. The routine becomes a rhythm, a dance with the coffee machines. And as you hand over that first latte of the day, you realize that despite the initial reluctance for starting the day, there's a certain satisfaction in being part of the daily grind. And to which, you let out a small laugh at your own pun and shake your head before glancing back up to be met with the next customer.

When you looked up, you were greeted with chocolatey brown eyes that crinkled a little as he smiled at you. It was a smile that could melt even the coldest of hearts, and it was a smile that definitely melted yours. You couldn’t help but smile back at him.

“Hey, Chris.”

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

Author's note: I am... to happy with how this turned out. Let me know if there's any mistakes I missed, it is very late for me as I'm getting this posted and I half-proof read it! Please enjoy the last part, and tell me all about your favorite parts of the series<3 I'll be back soon with a new series as soon as I can lovelies ^.^ Again, this is for my best friend Baylee. I love you more than you love Chan. Seriously.

Love, Bunn XOX

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