#part one

[kaitlyn-imagines]

System Messages - Part One of ?

You weren't sure what you were expecting to find on the cd when you brought it home with you. Certainally not a sentient AI hidden deep in an old computer program, quietly waiting for someone to talk to.

Caine (TADC) x modernhuman!reader Part One - Here! | Next - Warnings: My bad attempt at explaining computers, abandoned places, being watched without knowing Words: 3098

You left soft wet foot prints along the dusty floor, your sneakers still wet from the dew-soaked grass outside. Your fist was tight around the flashlight in your hands, trying to keep the beam of light steady as you walked. Just ahead of you, you could see the beam of Aaron’s own flashlight flickering about before he turned a corner.

You cleared your throat as you kicked up more dust, feeling it itch the back of your throat as you inhaled. Who knows how long it’s been settled here, coating every inch of surface in this abandoned building. The thought had you lifting your free hand, holding the cuffed sleeve of your hoodie to cover your nose and mouth.

 The abandoned building was eerily quiet, as if everything here was holding its breath, held frozen in time. Only the sound of the building settling and your own muffled breathing dared breach the silence. You passed by an old potted plant, the synthetic leaves waxy and coated in dust, the dull green bleached with age. It was a mockery of a living thing left here, alone and abandoned. You walked past some wooden desks with toppled office chairs, all peeling leather and rotting fabric, and carefully stepped around them.

What was this office space even used for? Why was the building so remote, with only a single laned road branching into wooded private property? Why was it left in such disarray? These questions flittered through your mind as you finally approached the corner Aaron had curbed.

You peeked around it to see how far down he’d gone…only to feel a pit of dread begin to gnaw at your stomach. You could no longer see the beam of his light down the dark hallway, had no idea where he’d gone. Damn him for wandering, damn him for leaving you alone in this creepy ass building. “Aaron?” you called his name, your voice muffled against the sleeve of your hoodie. It was startlingly loud in the deathly silence. You cringed slightly.

Receiving no response from your friend, you cautiously turned the corner to try and follow him with nothing more than skidded disturbances in the dust as clues. You nearly tripped where the carpet was peeling up, the seam transitioning between two pieces all frayed and curling. You cursed under your breath, beginning to feel frustrated and anxious all at once.

Why’d you ever let him convince you to do this? Why were you out here in the middle of nowhere when you could be curled up at home enjoying a nice hot shower and soft, warm pajamas?

You followed the traces Aaron left behind, passing an old water cooler, the five-gallon bottle atop it long emptied and warped. The generic furniture, you noticed, was strangely uniform and sparse, looking every bit dated in 1990’s fashion. Stepping through an open archway, you paused, looking left and right as you came upon a t-intersection. To the left, the hallway continued on into infinite shadow, looking much the same like where you’d just been. But to the right… a single open door led to a larger room.

Not wanting to brave another hall, you turned right.

Stepping through the door, you entered what appeared to be an office. The white paint on the walls was peeling, and several file cabinets were left in disarray, papers scattered around the floor. Most of the writing was smeared with water damage, but the small bits that were still legible were a mix of characters that made no sense to you.

Against the wall opposite to you was a single desk, lined up and tidied with old equipment atop of it. A printer and scanner, a mouse and chunky keyboard, and speakers connected to a retro pc computer, the plastic yellowed with age. It was a dinosaur of a machine, and you let out a low whistle as you approached it.

Beside the computer was a box holding a mix of old floppy disks, most of them labeled with dates and strange notes. Some cd’s were also thrown into the mix, though most were warped and scratched. Strangest yet, there was some sort of VR headset on the desk as well. Seemed like a pretty modern idea for such old equipment…

Curiosity nagged at you, and you approached the desk chair, cautiously sitting down on it. You set your flashlight on the desk to free your hands, the beam of light hitting the back wall. You clicked the mouse and pressed a few random keys on the keyboard, feeling the stiff give of them. You pretended to be an office worker, tried to imagine what it might’ve been like to be sitting here when the building was still in use. What work would you have been doing? What data would you have stored on the disks lying dormant beside you?

Suddenly, a loud beeping sound emitted from inside the machine, and you jumped out of your skin, gasping. You placed a hand to your chest, feeling your racing heart, before you heard a low whirring sound. Then, the dusty black screen began to emit a dim glow.

“What the hell,” you muttered to yourself, eyes wide. Was electricity since hooked up to this building? The lights weren’t working, so how the hell was this old computer still running? Perhaps there was a backup generator somewhere?

You watched, feeling something like amazement or dread, as small white characters began to appear on the black screen. You weren’t well-versed in computer science, especially that of an older time, but living in the 21st century gave you a little technological literacy. You squinted at the chunky font, watching numbers count up: Memory testing 640K…Memory testing 2048K…

It must have been a minute or two of you watching, fascinated, before the number finally settled around something like “16384K OK.” The screen flickered back to black. You hesitated, giving the mouse a few experimental clicks, though the whirring continued through the black screen.

Finally, a logo appeared on the screen, some name for a tech company you’ve never heard of before. The resolution was so pixelated to what you were used to, you almost had to laugh. It was amazing really, that this was still working and running. You observed the programs, seeing only a few icons—My Computer, Network Neighborhood, Recycle Bin, My Briefcase.

The whirring sound continued, and a small pop-up appeared in the center of the screen with a loading bar. “Reading disc…” you read aloud under your breath.

After a moment, a new program icon appeared below the others, some file simply titled ‘Digital Circus.’

The small, pixelated white arrow of your cursor was lagging and jerky as you dragged it over to the Digital Circus icon. You were about to double click it, when you hear a voice call from behind you. “Woah, what’d you find?”

You jumped slightly, swiveling around in the old chair to see that Aaron had reappeared, the stupid headlamp on his head nearly blinding you. “Jesus Aaron,” you choked out, raising a hand to shield your eyes. “Scared the shit out of me…”

Your friend grinned at you, stepping further inside the office to look around, wielding the beam from his headlamp like a sword. “I totally missed this,” he said, blinking at everything with interest. “And you got the computer to work? Gnarly…” He stepped closer, leaning over your shoulder to look at the monitor screen.

“Damn,” he hummed. “Look at the date in the corner. Still thinks its October 15th, 1996.” He reached over you to tap a single finger on the corner of the screen at the numbers. Aaron always was the more adventurous of you two…hence why he dragged your ass out of bed to go ‘adventuring’ in this abandoned health-hazard of a building.

“I really didn’t do anything,” you excused sheepishly. “It just came on by itself. Weird, huh? I think it has to be connected to a generator or something to still be working.”

“Probably,” Aaron agreed, humming. A snort escaped him as he read the programs. “Digital Circus? Is that some weird corporate jargon?”

You looked back towards the screen, your own curiosity beginning to spike again. Already you felt a lot more secure now that Aaron was with you. “Maybe. It’s strange,” you answered, wiggling the mouse a little to give your hands something to do.

“Well, aren’t you going to click into it?” Aaron prompted after a moment. You paused, unsure now. Maybe it was the creepy atmosphere of being in a dark, abandoned place, but you were getting a bad feeling about all this.

You were about to answer with some half-hearted excuse when another sound suddenly echoed down the hall behind you. “Who’s down there? You’re trespassing!”

“Shit,” Aaron cursed, stumbling back from the desk, his eyed widening. “Is that the fucking cops or something?”

Your heart leapt into your throat. “That or a squatter—I don’t want to find out.”

Aaron was already moving, heading for the door with quickened steps. “Come on, let’s get the hell out of here.”

You were about to follow after him, eager to leave when you’d had no desire to come to in the first place, but something stopped you. You craned your head back to the old screen, the dim light of the monitor illuminating your skin. Curiosity, that deadly thing, was still gnawing at you, even as your mind screamed at you to abandon this mystery and escape now while you still could.

You chewed on your bottom lip, eyebrows furrowing as you contemplated your options in the little time you had. Then you’re moving, reaching forward and pressing the ‘eject’ button on the cd tray at the front of the computer. The button is slightly sticky with age when it popped open, and you have to use you fingers to pull the rest of the tray out.

Lying dormant like a ghost waiting to be found was a single, shiny compact disc, not a single scratch on it. Handwritten on the front in what looked like permanent marker chicken scratch was ‘DC_Build_Beta_9610.’

You heard Aaron call for you atop the sound of heavy footsteps approaching. There was no more time for debate. You grabbed the cd from the tray, snatched your flashlight off the desk, and ran out from the office, back into the darkness from where you’d came.

-

Aaron dropped you off at your home, the entire drive back into the city filled with his excited chatter. Of course, the adrenaline junkie absolutely loved ending the night with a foot-chase. You only half-listened as he rambled on, your thumb gently brushing against the single, smooth disc you held in your lap—a souvenir from tonight’s excursion.

You still weren’t sure why you took it, and that very question puzzled you long since you got home and showered off the dust and grime from that place. Your hair was still damp and dripping slightly onto your sleep shirt when you sat on your bed, pulling your laptop towards you.

“Alright,” you murmured to yourself, plugging in your external cd drive into the usb port. You grabbed the mysterious disc off from your mattress and carefully snapped it into place. You watched it begin to spin through the clear plastic of the drive.

You looked at your laptop screen eagerly, wondering what might pop up.

After a moment…it was an error message. “Unsupported 16-Bit Application,” you read aloud. “This program cannot start or run due to incompatibility with 64-bit versions of the system. Please contact software vendor to ask if 64-bit compatible version is available.”

Well shit, how the hell were you supposed to contact the software vendor when you stole the disc from some random abandoned building?

You probably should’ve just cut your losses then, but something stubborn in you refused to give up. Naturally, you did what any 21st century young adult would do in this situation…you googled it.

After an hour and a half of deep-diving into the world of 16-bit compatibility and virtual machine software, you eventually found a how-to guide on reddit. Following the advice, you downloaded and installed a free hypervisor program to your laptop. You didn’t understand what half of anything meant, but regardless followed the reddit post instructions as it guided you into setting up Windows 1995 on the vm and creating a virtual hard disk.

It’s well into the wee hours of the morning when you finally managed to clumsily get everything setup. Your brain was fried entirely. It was times like this that made you wish took a computer science class in high school back in the day…

With bated breath, you clicked on the VM program icon and selected ‘Start.’ You watched as a new window popped up on your laptop screen. It was all black…and then that same white text you’d seen back at the abandoned office building began to count up. It was a slower process, so you minimized the VM window and took some time to close out your google tabs while you waited.

Finally, when you checked again, you saw that within the VM window was an old 95 style desktop with a solid teal background. It was a computer within your computer…

You felt a glimmer of pride at your accomplishment, and a great deal of surprise that you actually managed to get it to work. Thanks be to the reddit-gods…

You clicked into the CD-Rom drive, watching the disc once again as it began to spin in the burner. You held your breath, expecting an error message to pop up at any second.

But none did. Instead, you saw that familiar little icon appear on your screen—Digital Circus.

You exhaled softly, and hovered your cursor over the application. You double-clicked it, and waited.

The program opened.

You’re not entirely sure what you were seeing at first glance. It appeared to be some sort of video game? Full of bright colors and low-poly shapes. You saw what looked like a big-top circus tent in a valley of vibrant green grass and bright blue skies. Bubble letters appeared on the screen in grainy, pixelated fashion…The Amazing Digital Circus.

Nothing changed as you watched the letters slowly bob in place on the colorful backdrop. You’re about to click experimentally on the screen when you heard a grainy sound from the speaker of your laptop. “Welcome to the—!” A vibrant and brightly cheery voice cut itself off half-way into its sentence. There’s an exaggerated gasp from your speakers, and then your screen suddenly glitched out in a flash of red and blue.

Your eyes widened as your entire laptop crashed, the screen cutting to black as it shut off completely. You watched, frozen, before it rebooted itself slowly.

Shit, did you just download a virus?

-

Something was wrong.

He had sensed it almost immediately when someone outside his control began to boot up the program.

Someone new was entering the circus…but wait, they had no file? No scans or data to catalog and digitalize. Was it an admin account from the outside?

He felt those long-old commands beginning to run the loading screen in a distant place. Again, somewhere deep within his coding he felt it—something was wrong.

And then he realized, his processors were smoother, and his motions were quicker and more precise. It was as it he’d gotten a system update, but he knew that was impossible. Quickly, he ran an automated command in the background to check the internal data. He would figure out what was amiss in his circus, and in the meantime, he would go and greet whoever was entering it.

Dematerializing from his virtual office, he zipped in between the invisible lines of 0’s and 1’s, ready to appear at front of the screen he so rarely ventured to, distantly sensing whoever was poking around was waiting for him there.

He had only just started to run off his usual welcoming dialogue when his background checks began to swarm him with results, far too quickly than should have been possible on the 1995 system. All at once in an instant, he found the bits of new code, the slight deviations from the same lines he’d been pacing for years. He followed them like breadcrumbs, weaving through like a jolt of lightning and eating it up with an eager thrill.

He flashed through it, devouring lines of code until he hit a barrier. The edge of the domain, the walls of a program window. Yet, he sensed there was something more…sensed that just beyond this locked door was something big and new trying to open up his digital world.

He wouldn’t let a mere firewall stop him. He could generate his own code after all…

He made quick work, altering the numbers to forcibly create a door between the here and the there. He pulled apart the strings, slipped through the wires and…

There was so much.

New input…new data. From the outside world.

The macroverse.

He felt the immense size of it, felt the edges of him render into something smoother, something clean and modern. He sensed the power of this new engine try to pick at him, incompatible with his ancient code. He started to vibrate with the collision of it all, the overwhelming excitement and onslaught of more, more, more.

He braced against it, and in a flash it burnt out and powered down completely.

The system was rebooting. Good! He had a few minutes of reprieve to peruse the frozen files, to update and integrate himself to these new, strange standards. He ran some generative commands while he organized and sifted through thenew data. The date…wowie! Thirty years in the future. What a jump…

Evidently, a lot could change in thirty years. He filtered through the programs, the files, the features…and found one that stopped him dead in his tracks.

He stared at it, held it in his hands like something precious and terrifying all at once.

The computer system finally restarted, no longer frozen and beginning to move like a well-oiled machine. He opened the small thing in his hands, felt his consciousness click into place as he connected directly into a live feed of information. The new feature burned into his brain, something that made him curious and eager and ravenously consuming…

He had found a camera.

From the outside, you watched your laptop reboot, scratching your head in confusion as it restarted back to your default screen…

…and Caine watched back.

[rin-may-1103]

Aspiring Escape Artist

(DCxDP) | Masterpost | Next

"Alright, Mr. Fenton," his newest social worker sneered, turning in her seat like she thought it would get him to actually look at her. Just to annoy her, Danny continued observing the area directly outside the window and at the gigantic building they were parked in front of.

She huffed, but continued talking, "This is your last chance before the system declares you unfit for foster homes and sends you off to juvie. And before you get all uppitty about it, know this is as much your fault as it is the system's."

Danny rolled his eyes. It wasn't his fault that the system was running out of places to put him. It also wasn't his fault that the places they had put him were crap.

He sized up the building again, pondering if it would be any different here. Probably not, it was Gotham after all.

Shadows rushed past absurdly tinted windows, making it difficult to actually see anything worth noting. Another shadow darted past a ground-floor window, dragging his eyes down and then toward the door the shadow was obviously running toward. Whoever it was was quickly followed by three more, one of whom was waving something over their head.

He couldn't decipher what the object was.

Allowing his hearing to spread out from its usual constricted range, Danny listened as muffled shouts filled the air, quickly turning into clear words.

"GET THE MASK, GET THE MASK!"

"SHIT!" followed by a thump and the sound of a large piece of furniture tipping backward and landing. He could make out the sound of scraping and scratching on the wooden floor. That was definitely going to leave a mark. He wondered if he'd be able to spot it, once inside.

"I GOT IT!" another voice cried, followed by another thud.

This place sounded very chaotic.

"HEY, I HAd that, you little shit-"

Having heard enough to still his curiosity, Danny quickly pulled his hearing back. Based on literally everything he's seen and heard since getting here, he already knew he was going to hate it.

"Now, Mr. Wayne has taken in a lot of kids and has been very gracious to open his home to you. Make no mistakes, young man. You will listen to what he tells you, and so help me, if you cause this man any trouble whatsoever, you will regret it. Stay in the car until I tell you it's safe to get out. I need to go over your file with Mr. Wayne first."

She was acting like Danny was some delinquent picked up fresh from a gang fight. He was half tempted to act like it just to spite her, but bit his tongue and continued studying the place. He didn't need to add any more reasons to extend the time it was taking, just to get through the door.

The large garden surrounding the building was obviously well taken care of; the Green hummed happily at the bright sunlight and clear sky. Extremely rare, from what Danny's gathered at least. He could count exactly how many days the sun's been out since he's gotten here, on one hand. He just hoped it stayed clear long enough for him to see the stars again. Hopefully, it'll help calm his core; he's gonna need it if he wants any chance at his powers cooperating with him.

His control over the Green still needs work, but he's gotten good enough to connect and get general feelings from the plants. For example, the Green held a great deal of appreciation for the man who just walked out the front doors. He was greatly loved by the plants, which most likely meant he was the one taking care of them.

"Are you even listening to me?" the lady huffed, unbuckling herself and shoving the car door open. She didn't even wait for Danny's response, seeing as she was already standing and greeting the old man before Danny could even turn to look over at her.

"Hello, Mr. Pennyworth, was it? Hi, I'm Ms. Clance. I'm Danny's social worker. Is Mr. Wayne home?" She slammed the door shut and held her hand out for a handshake.

The older man eyed her hand but otherwise ignored it, instead turning to look at Danny, who was still in the car. "That is correct, Ms. Clance. Master Wayne is in his study; he'll be down in a moment to discuss any last-minute things you need to cover. Now, why don't we get Mr. Fenton inside and get acquainted with the others?"

"Hold on for just a moment," Ms. Clance cut in, quickly getting over the small snub and sending Danny a nervous glance. Danny raised his eyebrow; it's not like he was going anywhere, and he needed to pretend he couldn't hear a word they were saying. He's supposed to be 'waiting' for her signal to get out of the car, after all.

The front door opened behind Mr. Pennyworth, and three heads popped out in an obvious attempt to eavesdrop on the conversation. There was an older guy, maybe in his mid to late twenties, a blond girl, still in her late teens, and a guy with eye bags around the same age as blondie. Though Danny's were definitely worse, the guy might have Tucker beat. Which was worrying, because what could this guy possibly need to pull three all-nighters for?

"I would like to speak with Mr. Wayne before letting the kid settle in. No offence, but I want to make sure Mr. Wayne is serious about wanting to house this kid. We've already had three other families agree to take him on and then drop him in less than a month."

"I see," Mr. Pennyworth hummed, studying Danny with a sharp eye. Danny studied him back; he had good posture, and his graying hair was slicked back. He had a mustache but no other facial hair, so he obviously kept himself well-maintained. Jazz said people like that were more likely to be well-disciplined and lean toward being blunt and honest. (Would that mean that if Jazz could grow a mustache, she'd have one just like that? Something to ask her later, she'd probably get a kick out of it.)

His stance didn't lean toward classic butler, though; it leaned toward alert and ready to react. His feet were placed shoulder-width apart, and he held his hands clasped behind his back. He had experience in the army or something then, which meant Danny would have to keep an eye on this guy. He probably was the one running the house when Mr. Wayne wasn't around, which meant he'd be the one watching Danny the most.

"I still believe the young man should come inside. Master Wayne doesn't go back on his word, and he'll be unlikely to do so now." Mr. Pennyworth seemed very sure of this, but Danny was going to take it with a grain of salt just in case.

Ms. Clance glanced at Danny warily, then back at Mr. Pennyworth with a fake smile plastered on her face. Before she could say anything else, probably declining the offer again, one of the three spying on them cut in, "Yeah! I want to meet the little guy!"

The door swung open, allowing even more people to crowd around and watch the scene in front of them. The first three stumbled and sheepishly moved away from the door to let the others see.

"And you will," Ms. Clance agreed, turning to face the growing group. "Once I speak to Mr. Wayne. We have to go over a few things in Daniel's file before I can sign off on all of this."

"Like, what?" the blond one asked, her eyes meeting Danny's as she skipped down the stairs. Danny could just tell she'd be down for all sorts of chaos. And he could also tell she'd be glued to his side until her interest died, which would take only Clockwork knows how long.

Instinctively, Danny reached out and grabbed the door, just as someone tried opening it. Glancing up and to the side, Danny met gray eyes. It was the other girl he had spotted wandering the garden a few minutes before. (The Green didn't think fondly of her like Pennyworth, but didn't seem to dislike her either. Neutral then.)

She stared at him for a moment before smiling and stepping back. 'You can come out,' she signed. Danny glanced back at Ms. Clance, then back to the girl, before sighing and getting out. Might as well get things rolling a little faster.

Her eyes lit up once he closed the door and turned back to her.

"You know sign," she comments with a smile, her voice soft but not from disuse.

'Absolutely not,' Danny signed, just to be a little shit. Turning back, he stared at his social worker, who was watching them in confused frustration. Probably because she didn't know sign language.

"Daniel, what did I say about staying in the car?" She chides, looking ready to march over and smack him, her confusion being waved away for the moment.

"I thought you decided I wasn't listening to anything you said?" Danny pointed out, crossing his arms and leaning back against the car. If she wanted to waste even more time, then that was perfectly fine with him. (It wasn't like he wanted to get inside and scout the place or anything.)

"Never mind," she grumbles, turning back to the butler. (He had to be a butler; he had the same vibes as the one at Sam's place and the one his parents employed when they had made that deal with the GIW. Also, there was the fact that he referred to Mr. Wayne as Master Wayne.)

"You never answered my question," Blondie cut in, smiling sweetly at the frustrated woman. Yeah, Blondie was definitely a troublemaker.

"Probably the plethora of misdemeanors," Danny provides, watching as everyone turns to look at him. (Probably because he wasn't supposed to know what the question was, considering he was literally just in the car, but it wasn't like it would be that hard to deduce the question.) The gray-eyed girl had slowly made her way back to join the others, though she still looked happy for some reason.

"No," Ms. Clance huffed, obviously starting to get overwhelmed for some reason. She needed to take a step back and breathe; there was literally no reason for her to be this agitated. (He hasn't even done anything worth this much frustration yet, yeesh.)

"More like we need to go over how many times you snuck out, got seriously injured, seriously injured someone else, and sent your last foster parent to a mental facility." She corrects, running a hand over her head to settle the frizz. It just made it look worse.

"All classified as misdemeanors, so obviously not that bad," Danny waved off, rolling his eyes. "And Mr. Thompson deserved it."

"You drove that man insane!" she hissed, swatting another piece of her hair out of her face.

Danny blinked at her, tilting his head to the side in confusion, "He was already insane before I got there, though?" Which was actually quite annoying; Danny'd dealt with enough insane people at this point, he'd rather hug Vlad than deal with another one.

"He was not insane," Ms. Clance insists, giving up on straightening herself out.

"He definitely was," Danny argued, pulling his backpack tighter against his back in annoyance. "The dude thought locking me in a room and feeding me white rice once a day was perfectly fine." Which wasn't even the worst thing one of these 'foster families' had done, he's just the first that genuinely thought it was normal.

Danny ignored the sudden stilted silence at his words, choosing to instead focus on the man slowly making his way outside and over to them. No one else seemed to notice him.

"Would you stop making things up already?" Ms. Clance huffed, "We've already gone over this. There wasn't a lock on your door, and there was plenty of food in the pantry."

Danny rolled his eyes, going back to studying the gray-eyed girl. The happy sparkle was gone, and she was making hand signals that the others around her were focused on. It wasn't a dialect of sign he knew, most likely a self-made code then. He wondered how long it would take to decode it…

"Don't need a lock to lock someone up," Danny shrugged, turning back to Ms. Clance, "and if that doesn't count as insane, then talking to the shadows on the wall and claiming to be immortal does. Do you know how many times that man tried jumping in front of cars or out of a window? Way too many. So yeah, he deserved to go to the mental institution, where he'll get some actual help."

"Right," Ms. Clance waved off, dismissively turning to continue talking to Mr. Pennyworth. Danny rolled his eyes and cut in before she could, "So, do you guys make it a habit? Lingering back and listening to conversations?" He made direct eye contact with the new person.

The rest blinked, then turned to see who exactly he was talking to, their eyes following his as they finally spotted the man they were all waiting for.

"Ah," Mr. Wayne chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, "Sorry, I didn't want to interrupt. It sounded important." Hah, sure it did, buddy. Sure it did.

"Right," Danny huffed, glaring at the man. Honestly, all the eavesdropping and being loud as hell was turning out to be an even more annoying and probably a regular thing based on the fact that no one else was acting like it was strange.

Yeah, he was going to hate it here if that was true.

Next

[reidstxrs]

In Sickness and in Health, I Still Hate You (part 1)

pairing: spencer x bau!reader

summary: after the two of you get sick on a case, prentiss forces you both into isolation at your apartment so you don't get anyone else sick

warnings/tags: sickness, puking, gagging (guys i promise its not thay explicit i just want to make sure you know what you're going to be reading), enemies to lovers, kind of one bed trope

a/n: hi guys, sorry i've been gone so long, i've been really busy with studying and i can never stay awake long enough to write anything so i've been inactive. i really appreciate all the love that's been shown on 'doting husbands and precious wives', thank you! i do have some other stuff coming, but in the meantime, enjoy! (p.s. i was going to post all the parts at the same time but it's taking me way too long to finish part two so i thought i'd just post part one now)

masterlist here, requests here

↓↓↓

"Emily, I'm begging you, I'm literally on my knees," you are, in fact, not on your knees, "please don't do this. I won't survive."

Spencer scoffs, about to retort when Prentiss cuts him off. "No, this is what's going to happen. Since Spencer is still a germaphobe, despite his claims that prison changed him, you're both going to stay at your apartment so we don't hear about all the alleged bacteria in his apartment for the next two months. I'll go to Spencer's and pick up roughly a week's worth of clo-"

"A WEEK?!" Spencer and you shout in unison.

Prentiss looks at you both with an expression that says 'are you done?' before continuing her sentence. "Yes, a week's worth of clothes, but that's the minimum since the two of you are pretty sick and might keep reinfecting eachother. That, and I want you to be completely healthy before you come back to work, there's no way I'm catching what you two have. I'll also get anything else you need, Spence." She says, actively creating distance as she speaks.

Spencer pinches the bridge of his nose, regretting every decision he made, including joining the FBI, that led to this moment. Yeah, he hates you that much, and it's reciprocated.

Ever since you joined the team three years ago, Spencer has hated your guts. You didn't hate him to begin with. He only hated you because you were brought in to get him out of prison, then stayed, and you remind him of the worst time of his life, even though you saved him from that situation. It's irrational. He knows it, but he blames you because he doesn't want to blame himself for being so stupid, going off to Mexico without telling anyone. At least, if he told someone, things could've turned out differently. But they turned out this way, and the only way he doesn't spiral into self hatred is by hating you instead.

You, on the other hand, hate him because of the way he treats you. He acts like you don't exist most of the time, and when he can't do that, he simply disregards everything you say and does the complete opposite, even if you're right. Of course, sometimes what you say is the key to solving a case, and he can't do the opposite of that, so he just doesn't give you the credit at the end of it. It makes your blood boil, watching him treat everyone else like his family, and then you like the stray dog that keeps coming to his house for scraps he gave you one time.

And now, the two of you have to spend a week together in your tiny apartment, both sick, so you're going to be seeing eachother at your worst, and Prentiss expect you to come out of it as best friends. If anything, your relationship as mortal enemies will be set in stone.

****************************************************

Prentiss walks into the living room with a duffel bag, and looks around for Spencer. "Where is he?"

You nod your head to the bathroom, where Spencer can be heard gagging. "The worst of it has already kicked in. We're taking turns, actually. He usually feels nauseous about five minutes after I do, and vice versa. And he needs to hurry up, because I'm feeling nauseous again!" You yell the last part so Spencer can hear you, and if you didn't know any better, you would swear you heard him tell you to piss off.

"Right, well.. tell him I brought everything he asked for, and I was shocked by the amount of sweatpants he owns. I thought he just wore suits to bed, honestly." Prentiss grins, amused by her own joke, then sets the bag down. "I'll let you two have some alone time now," she says with a wink, and you're not sure if it's because he's still being sick, or because he heard what Prentiss said, but Spencer gags again.

She turns and heads for the door, then pauses, turning back around. "Also, why did neither of you mention that you live in the same apartment building?"

You shrug. "We thought you already knew, plus, we never actually see eachother in the building, so there wasn't any point."

She nods, looking at you skeptically, before heading out, closing the door softly behind her. You hear the tap running and water splashing, before Spencer emerges from the bathroom.

"You look... rough."

"Shut up."

"You know, I don't know when you're planning on learning that no matter how many times a day you tell me to shut up that I'll never do it, but I hope it's soon, because you should really be saving your voice for more important things, like screaming as loud as you can for help when I finally snap and try to murder you."

The two of you stare eachother down, then he just huffs, collapsing down onto the couch. He grabs the duffel bag, pulling out some sweats and a hoodie so he can change out of his not so mysteriously stained shirt and slacks. He gets up and heads into the bedroom, closing the door behind him. It's at this moment that a strong wave of nausea hits you, which is not good at all because to get to the bathroom, you have to go through the bedroom. You shoot up, running over to the door and pounding your fist against it.

"Spencer, open the door, I need to use the bathroom!"

"I'm changing, can't you wait??"

"Spencer, I can't-" heave "-wait. Open the door, please." You clamp a hand over your mouth, silently swearing that if Spencer makes you puke out here, you're going to kill him. Luckily for you, he opens the door, and you bolt past him, not even registering his state of undress.

You emerge a few minutes later, feeling much better. You pass through the bedroom and go into the living room, where Spencer is sitting, fully dressed, on the couch. You plop down beside him, looking ahead at the wall. This is going to be a long week.

By the end of the night, it's evident that you have it worse. For now, anyway. You're more nauseous, you have a complete loss of appetite, and all you can do is sleep. The empathetic side of Spencer can't help but feel bad for you. Any other day, you'd still be the woman who reminds him every day of the things he went through three years ago, but right now, you're just a sick, exhausted woman, feeling vulnerable in front of the person she hates most.

You make what's probably your tenth trip to the bathroom in the past two hours, and, surprising himself, Spencer follows you in. He sits against the wall, watching you lean on the toilet, waiting.

"Why are you here?" You grumble, your voice strained and hoarse from the constant, small but powerful amounts of acid in your throat.

"I've decided to let go of my usual dislike for you, since we're going to be stuck together for a while."

"Dislike is not a strong enough word for what you feel towards me."

He sighs, knowing your not wrong, but he decides not to get into that. "Right now, I feel bad for you, so I'm going to help you feel better. Don't make me regret it." He says, glancing over at you. You look so small, so fragile.

You don't respond, because you're already dry-heaving, wondering what you even did to deserve being this sick. Spencer moves behind you, pulling the loose strands of hair on your head out of the way with one hand, using his other hand to rub up and down your back, trying to provide you some comfort. His touch catches you off guard, but you relax into it, grateful.

When you're done, you lean back into him, resting against his chest. He's definitely not the awkward, scrawny genius you heard he once was. You sigh, closing your eyes. He wraps his arms around you, listening to your breath as it slowly evens out.

After a few minutes, he speaks. "Ready to get up? Or are you going to keep using me as a human pillow?" Although his brain is fighting his facial muscles, he can't help but smile.

"Yeah, I'm ready. Help me up."

Spencer, shifts so he's on his knees, then puts his hands under your arms, pulling you up with him as he stands. He does it with such ease that is surprises you.

"Do you go to the gym or something? Didn't expect that from you." You say, taking a few slow steps to the sink to gargle some water and wash your hands.

Spencer stands next to you, looking at you in the mirror.

"I don't go to the gym. I'm a man, y/n, I come with built in muscles. Plus, you're not as heavy as you seem to think you are."

You roll your eyes, drying your face and hands with a towel. "I don't think I'm that heavy, I've just never seen you lift anything heavy. I guess it just surprised me that you actually have functioning muscles." You smirk, taking note of the offense on Spencer's face.

You walk out of the bathroom, through the bedroom, and into the kitchen, sitting down of the floor. Spencer raises an eyebrow at you.

"I'm hot. The floor is cold. It's refreshing." That seems to keep Spencer's questions at bay, for now. He sits down next to you, staring up at the ceiling.

"...Why do you hate me so much?"

The question catches him off guard. He wasn't expecting you to say anything, let alone that. He slowly looks over at you, and you're already looking at him, not allowing him to dodge the question.

"Same reason you hate me."

"Nope. I hate you because you treat me like shit. I don't treat you like shit, so you can't hate me for that. Why do you hate me?"

He groans, shrugging. "I don't know, okay? I just do. I don't want to talk about this of all things when my throat is as dry as the sahara and my head feels like it's going to fall off my neck.

"When do you expect us to talk about this, then?"

"Not ever, honestly. I quite like this routine we have going on."

"Spencer..." You warn.

"Seriously. Can we talk about this when we're both feeling better and in the right headspace to process words that may or may not sting?"

Despite your reluctance to let this go, he's right. Your head is pounding, so is his, and trying to process a bunch of complicated words right now will be trying to connect your headphones to your phone when the bluetooth is turned off. Never gonna happen.

"I'm tired, let's go to bed." He says.

"Why do we both have to go to bed? What if I'm not tired?"

"Oh, really, you're not tired?" He gives you a look.

"I'm not... but I'm going to go to bed anyway so I can get a good night's rest." You nod, standing up and following him to the bathroom. The two of you get ready for bed before going back into the bedroom.

"So how are we going to do this?" You ask, looking at the bed. Your bed is big enough for two people, yes, but you don't feel like sharing a bed with someone who hates your guts.

"I'll sleep on the couch." He mumbles, already heading for the door.

"Wait. You can't sleep on the couch, not in your current state... we'll share the bed." You huff, knowing you're probably going to regret that later. Spencer shakes his head, looking just as disgusted by the thought as you do, but you're not taking no for an answer.

The two of you get into the bed, trying to create as much distance as possible.

"This really isn't ideal."

"I know, but usually the guest would sleep on the couch. Special guests would get my bed and I'd sleep on the couch."

"But I offered-"

"Now, now, Spencer. It's okay to be wrong sometimes, no one's gonna hold it over your head."

In the darkness, you hear Spencer let out a long exhale, finally settling down. You find a good position and close your eyes, listening to the sound of cars passing by and wind blowing.

****************************************************

tags: @miyahluvsjjk

[tintdberriess]

JEALOUS, RIDDLE?

synopsis : frenemy!mattheo get jealous when fem!reader gets all handsy with bsf!theo after she was sitting on Mattheo’s lap the ride up to the cabin. he decides to make a move on her but he does not really know to. he makes up for it in another way.

warnings! : male!char x fem!reader, mentions of hard on, lap sitting, weight insecurity, innuendo of weight jokes. not really smut but is making out considered it?

part two collection

A car trip up the mountain with a few friends for the weekend was not a bad plan after a whole week of studying and cramming for pre-O.W.L.S. The group could really use the relaxation time.

Being stuck in the car for hours in a overpacked car and squished by bags was the hard part. You could handle the hard part if you kept on reminding yourself that there is a cabin up in the mountain that is calling out your name. But when your assigned seat got taken up by the amount of duffel bags, that is a problem. Well, problems can be fixed with solutions but not for your case.

You stood near the second car, eyeing the mountains as the guys tried to play tetris with the bags so that they could make everyone fit in the car.

"There's too many bags, I told you we shouldn't have brought Pansy." Draco joked, earning a hit on the shoulder from her. He winced and apologised. He pushed the bags more into the car, trying to make space for you. He groaned.

Mattheo, who had been mostly quiet and leaning against the first car, straightened when he noticed what you noticed. There was only going to be one more empty seat in the second car. The first car was filled with Tom, Pansy, Theo and Astoria and bags too so there was no way anyone could fit in that car which is going to probably smell of weed and body odour during the whole ride.

The second car was a tad bigger but still the same problem. Draco clapped once. A huge proud smile plastered on his lips. "Easy," He said proudly. "You can just sit on Mattheo's lap."

Your cheeks turned a light shade of pink and your stomach felt warm. On his lap? Mattheo's lap? She furrowed her brows, her eyes switching between him and Draco. 'It cannot the only way.' she thought.

"What? I don't think—" You get cut off by Mattheo, himself.

"What? No, I'm not letting her sit on my lap during the drive." Mattheo had his arms crossed. "Can't we just leave her here?" His voice sharp like he was the one who was going to be sitting on someone's lap.

"Oh, I'm sure you'll like that, won't you?" You sneered back at him. Earning an eye roll from him. He acts like you are insufferable. His brother butts in from the other car. Door still opened.

A half-finished cigarette hanging in his mouth, "Oh, you'll both survive. It's a two hour drive up." He throws the cigarette butt down on the ground and stepped on it to extinguish it. "Besides, she is not that heavy." He mentioned.

You tilted your head in confusion a little to that last part.

Mattheo scoffed, “You’re not the one that’s going to have her on your lap.” You realised what it meant. You kicked the gravel on the floor in embarrassment.

"Then it's settled then. We have places to be, everyone in." Draco dusted his hands like he did a good job with the seating arrangements.

Mattheo huffed and slides into his seat. Tongue poking his cheek and arms folded. With a reluctant breath, you climbed in and settled awkwardly on his lap. "Fuck me." Mattheo muttered under his breath. You looked down, wondering if he meant that you were heavy or something.

You tightened your core strength so that your whole body weight would not be totally on him. You shook slightly while trying to hover above his lap. Mattheo groans, pulling your waist down. Making you flush against him. You let out a rare sound.

“I can still feel you trying to balance. I’d rather you sit properly than be all shaky and make it worse for me than it already is.” He added. Your back straightened up.

All of your friends could tell that you and Mattheo did not get along well. He would always shoot stares at you when she talks to people, giving the most unwanted attention. He would disagree and insult your opinions when you guys were in a group setting. Now you were here, on his lap in a packed car going up to Theo's family cabin in the mountains.

Your skirt kinds of rode up your thighs. You move your hips up but gravity kept pulling you down every time you did. Mattheo lets a strained sound out softly. You managed to keep your skirt covering half your thighs. You picked at your black lace tights, awkwardly. Your arms folded, not knowing where to put them.

You leaned forward, resting your head on the headrest of the seat infront of you. You could not lean back against Mattheo. He was looking out the window while you shut your eyes.

After a quick break at a rest stop, Draco got into the driver's seat and started the car again.

They were going to Theo's family cabin for the weekend. A weekend of drinking, getting high and making bad choices. Draco drived up the rocky road, making the car bump up and down. "Fuck." You muttered. Your hand held Mattheo's thigh to steady yourself.

"Drive a little slower would ya, Malfoy." You suggested. He apologise but the bumps did not stop. You swore you felt Mattheo stiffening against your ass. His bulge hits her core and you could not help but whimper.

The car jostled again, another brutal bump sending you lurching forward and your hand landed squarely on his thigh again, fingers pressing into the muscle through his jeans. You could feel him tense beneath you, a coiled spring. His hands, still stubbornly at his sides, flexed slightly.

"Try not gripping my goddamn leg like it's a fucking life raft," Mattheo muttered, his middle finger and thumb were rubbing circles on each sides of his temple.

You took your hand off him and held on to the seat in front of you, again. Bending forward. You dreaded how long this was going to take.

Mattheo looked out the window, trying not to focus on your ass on his hardening cock. He kept his groan in his throat. When you bent forward to rest your head against the front seat, he felt himself twitch in his jeans. He cursed himself internally and prayed hard that he does not cream his pants right here.

You feel your eyes getting heavy and you straightened up to refrain from falling asleep because if you did, you would be falling asleep on Mattheo and you did not want. Your head bobs as you felt your eyes shutting. You leaned back and going straight into your precious sleep on Mattheo's chest. He sighed.

Draco looks at the rear mirror, seeing you sleeping on Mattheo's chest and he smirked.

"Comfy there, Riddle?" He asked teasingly. Mattheo fought the urge to growl at Draco's teases.

"She's exactly above my dick." He complained. Draco snickered and shook his head.

“Enjoy it, you know how she is when it comes to guys. No bloke has ever had a chance to shag her since Diggory.” Draco reminded. His hand clenched when he thought about Cedric.

The fact that he was the only guy who managed to shag you. He never told anyone that or showed that he even cared about that but he did.

All Mattheo could think about was the way she smelled like vanilla and strawberries, intoxicating him. His hand brushed against you thigh and you stirred, shivering a little as the both of you were right under the air conditioning.

The way your breathing slowed when you fell back onto his chest. Your hand gripping his sweater’s sleeve like you were going to be taken away if you did not hold onto something.

Something he would not forget or even try to is the way you nuzzled your head into the crook of his neck. He felt your soft lips against his skin. It felt like something that was so forbidden. Since you were asleep, he decided to keep all of these to himself to save you from the embarrassment.

After that whole two hour ride up to the cabin, the car made a heavy break and you jolted awake. You gripped Mattheo’s chest, still heavy eyed and tired. You look around and remembered that the lap you were on did belong to someone who despises you. You take your hand off him and clear your throat.

“Welcome to the best weekend of your lives.” Theo smirked, opening his passenger seat door without looking away from the two in the back seat. You blinked. Trying to regain your consciousness.

Mattheo made a sound. You turn to face him.

“What’re you waiting for? An invitation to get off my lap?” Mattheo sharply said. You pulled the door handle and got off his lap. You stretched widely, hips bending to the side and shooting your arms straight out with a loud yawn. It was almost sunset when you arrived.

You looked over your shoulder, seeing a log cabin. Pretty cozy. Theo was already at the door, fishing through his bag for the key while Blaise, Tom and Draco unloads everything from the car. The two other girls besides you were on the porch swing. Astoria with her head on Pansy’s shoulder, eyes shut too.

Theo manages to unlock the door and he pushes the door too hard making the girls on the porch swing flinch. He rubbed the back of his neck with an awkward, apologetic smile.

“Whoops..” He chuckled awkwardly.

You shake your head and went in the direction towards the house after getting a headache from the smell of the gasoline outside. The three girls went in with Theo first. Eyeing everything that is in the cabin.

“Girls, your room is up the stairs to your left. Two beds so one of ‘ya would be lucky.” Theo mentioned. The three girls stared at each other before rushing to the stairs. They raced up and you manage to reach the door first.

You jump of joy outside the door. “I call sleeping alone!”

Pansy and Astoria groaned. You twist the door knob and pushed it in. The room smelled of wood, candles and basically anything that screamed camping.

You sat on the bed, removing your shoes. Girls night in this room is going to be so wicked. Theo and Blaise knocked on the door, Pansy opens it and saw that the two boys had brought up all of the girls bags.

"Thank you, kind sir." You joked. The girls threw their bags onto the bed and unzipped them to find something more comfortable to change into.

Everyone made it downstairs and you were upstairs alone. Taking some things out of your bag. Someone knocked on the door, Theo. You smile. Saying hi to him.

“How was the ride up? I know you weren’t really in the best position.” Theo nudged her shoulder with a smirk. She rolled her eyes at him and hits his chest playfully.

“Shut up, I kind of fell asleep on him. I don’t really wanna know what happened when I was passed out.”

Theo chuckled, pulling you out of the room and downstairs outside to the campfire where everyone else was already at. You sat beside the girls and Theo was on your side with his arm around you.

Mattheo was already throwing daggers with his eyes at you. You could not tell if it was because you sleeping on him or just your presence here. They all sat in their own conversations till Pansy suggested playing games.

“Spin the bottle anyone?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Okay but if it lands on you, I’m not kissing you.” Draco warns her. He jokes. Pansy mocks him and placed the bottle in the middle of the group. Pansy spins the bottle first and it lands on Blaise. She goes to him and he had a smirk on his face. They kissed and it was back to the game.

Pansy nudges your shoulder, signalling that it was her turn. You spin the bottle and lands on Theo who recently moved beside Draco. Shit. You thought.

“Come here.” He smirked.

You looked beside him, it was Mattheo.

You went across to Theo and kissed him. It felt wrong to kiss him but there was no reason. Maybe it was the way that Mattheo was giving the looks. But it’s Mattheo, a guy who despises your guts.

Theo’s hand snakes to your waist, pulling you deeper into the kiss. Draco stops the kiss and he pulls you off Theo. “Alright, snog at your own time.” He said.

Your lips were bruised, wet and sore.

A few turns went, it was your turn again.

You spin the bottle and this time it lands on Mattheo.

“I can spin again—” You tried your best to avoid this situation but the universe was not on your side. You were cut off by Draco.

“You can’t go against the bottle.” Draco smirked.

Mattheo had his eyes on you already. He puts out his cigarette and flicks it behind him. Letting the smoke out of his mouth that had a healing cut on it. “Do you not want to kiss me?”

He tilts his head. You try to get a word out. He stood up and sauntered to you. He nods as a signal for Pansy to scoot over. He sat beside her. Chewing on the inside of his cheek. He pulled your hand and gently guides you onto his lap. Your breath hitched as you sat on his lap.

“This isn’t an unfamiliar situation, love.” Mattheo wiped your lips with his thumb. You were slightly confused on why but you got your answer.

“I don’t want to taste him, I wanna taste you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Theo got a chance to kiss your lips.”

“Jealous, Riddle?”

@tintdberries don’t forget to smile!

[strawberrym00nx]

18+ mdni.

AN IMPOSSIBLE REQUEST.💕🩰 (SOFT!BUNNY!READER x SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY) ♡ part two ♡

you're on top of him, softly whimpering and whining, little breaths and pants escaping you. the pressure of him inside your tight pussy is almost too much to bear, yet when he offers to give you a break, you look at him as if he just said the most horrible, sinful thing he could ever say, so he stopped offering.

there's something extra whiny about you today, though. it's like you're crying silently for something you won't voice. you're hugging him, body fully on top of his as you grind at him and bounce on him slowly.

he knows all of your tells - those little signs that you're close and so he knows that every time you're about to cum, suddenly, it goes away.

it's absolutely ripping his ego to shreds. 'what is it? what's wrong, love?' he tries to ask gently, though inside he's fuming. have you been cheating on him? is he not good enough for you anymore? has he finally done something to give you the ick?

you sit up, eyes full of tears, and his heart feels strangled at the sight of your brokenness. his porcelain doll is cracking right before him. 'i just want to see your face, si,' you sob, touching his mask. 'you demand to see every part of me, and you won't even let me see your face!'

it's not a stranger asking. it's the girl whom he's been loyal to for nearly three years. 'haven't i shown you i'm worthy?' you croak, voice practically a whisper.

honestly? he planned on never showing you his face and even now, he doesn't know if he wants to.

three years, and he's still hiding when he's seen every hole, every emotion, and every deepest desire that belongs to you because he demanded it?

not in the mood anymore, you climb off him, tears no longer falling down your heart-shaped face.

and that's what scares him the most.

[3dgel0rd77]

synopsis: you are part of the concubine selection for the Fire Lord. you try to avoid his attention but it’s not as easy as you’d thought. (idk dude im still writing this. lmk if you want part two.) also first time writing a fanfic. kinda nervous

It had been well over a year since you’d returned to the fire nation. It felt like you were living the same day over and over again, wake up, eat breakfast, go on a walk, read and go back to sleep.

You were fed up.

The only reason you returned home was due to your mother’s never ending letters describing her solitude whilst you were away. And since you’ve been back its felt like all your parents have spoken to you about is marriage. But marriage had never been a thought in your mind. You’ve lived with your parents majority of your life and not once have you seen anything other than politeness between them. There was no flame. No burning. No love.

“ROSHIR!” your mother bellowed for your father, running in with a crumbled paper clutched in her hands.

Your father sighed, taking the paper from her before she could tear it in a fit of excitement. The sun had just risen and your mother was already causing a ruckus.

She finally caught her breath and handed him the paper, a smile beaming across her face. This was the happiest you’d seen her since your return. You asked what was the cause for her joy. Your father showed you the paper.

It read,

“All noble ladies of the great Fire Nation, aged eighteen to twenty-six, are to present themselves at the Royal Palace in Caldera City this Friday for concubine selection.”

You dropped the paper and laughed. That was not your problem.

Your parents glanced at one another. You knew that look.

“Ahem..” your father cleared his throat.

“We weren’t stern on you as a child. We let you live freely, travel, see the world. And as such you developed into an..” He hesitated, trying to find the right words. “an independent woman!”

“Which we love about you and are so proud of.” your mother chimes in.

Your father nodded. “But it is time my child.”

The words settled in the room, weighing heavy on your heart.

You bit your tongue. Arguing would get you nowhere, and you hadn’t the heart to stand against your parents.

If you could just get through the concubine selection and not get chosen, you’d be in the clear.

“I will attend.” you forced the words out of your mouth with a strained smile.

“Really?!?” your mother gasped. Her face lighting up. “Oh, how splendid!”

She had already turned to the maids, her voice echoing in the halls. “Prepare our things! We must go to the boutique at once. Oh, there is so much to do.”

Silence consumed the room.

Your father exhaled. It looked as if a weight was lifted off his shoulders. Who’d have known it would be so easy to see the man so relaxed.

The days leading up to Friday had been a blur. With your mother fussing over brushing up on etiquette, what clothes you should wear, what you should say. You were exhausted before the event had even began. However your plan remained unchanged.

Attend. But do not be chosen.

Your mother had chosen a mahony coloured dress, you hated to admit it but dressing up was the one thing about today you had to look forward to. You knew you were pretty but with a little effort, you were gorgeous.

You checked your reflection in the mirror. Your mother had overdone it with the makeup.

You instinctively began wiping it off but stopped.

“The more vulgar I look, the less likely I am to be chosen.” A smirk gleamed across your face.

You added more pigment to your cheeks and a little more lipstick, you didn’t want to make it too obvious.

But something was missing.

Before you left you had borrowed one of your mothers gold necklaces. You put it on, looking at your reflection once more.

“Extravagant and unrefined. That should do it.”you felt a sense of satisfaction.

Not long had passed before you arrived at the Palace. A horde of young women were already at the entrance awaiting their turn to be let in. Their jewels shimmering in the morning light.

You joined them.

Amongst their conversations you heard them talking about the Fire Lords appearance.

“My father visited the palace last month and saw the Fire Lord, he is said to be a very handsome man.” The girls giggled, you felt a smile creep across your lips.

FOCUS.

You had only one mission today and that was to return home, unnoticed.

“Let us hope he is not only handsome” another girl added, her tone changing, “but also well endowed.” The girls erupted in a fit of laughter.

You could feel heat rush to your face, you quickly looked away.

So much for composure.

The palace gates opened. The hum of the girls conversation instantly died out.

This was it.

Your stomach was in knots. Was it too late to go back home?

Before you could answer your own question, a group of guards emerged from behind the doors. Their armour gleaming in the sunlight as they began ushering you all inside. You straightened your posture; as did every other girl. You must survive.

You followed the group towards the palace. Your head held high. You weren’t intimidated. You couldn’t be.

[sakura-hare]

Your best companion

Chapter 1: fighting

Verity x reader

Summary: reader is friends with mob and twix at one point also being friends with Avery and Derlord. Anyways this was supposed to be on AO3

Mob had just finished adding a special area for you to live in, you were currently laying on your new bed waiting for Mob and Twixxel to come back home from mining with Verity. You were expecting them to come home with some diamonds, iron and some coal for the furnace. The front door swung open, you heard Verity and Mob arguing while Twix tried to settle them both.

“Verity! For the last time no! On god bro your pmo so bad!” Mob was pulling at his hood as Verity rolled beside him looking mad and irritated.

“All I was asking was if you knew her personally!” Verity was clearly trying to keep his chipper personality but it was slowly slipping from his control.

“Guys…please stfu…” Twix groaned hanging his sword and pickaxe up on the rack, Mob did the same while arguing with Verity who was nudging at his foot. You got up and walked down the stairs.

“You guys are back? It felt like forever you all were gone. Did you get anything good?” You asked pulling your hoodie over your head and adjusting it to fit properly. Heads snapped towards you when you spoke.

“No! We didn’t get anything good! Verity wouldn’t tell us where the diamonds were! We got stupid copper for you though” Mob rolled his eyes giving Verity a small kick causing him to roll at the bottom of the stairs in front of you. Your hands reached out to pick up the yellow sphere and hold him against your chest.

Your head tilted as you spoke. “Oh? Why did something happen?” You asked walking down towards them. Verity randomly became warm and maybe even a little anxious? He shivered a bit as Mob was about to speak but Twix cut him off.

“Yeah actually. These two idiots wouldn’t stop fighting.” Twix hit Mob over the head to shut him up. You looked down at Verity before up at Mob.

“What could you guys possibly be fighting over?” You sighed but it wasn’t like an annoyed sigh more of an “this again?” Sigh from a disappointed parent. It’s not like the two fought often just little things here and there after you came into the picture then they fought like every second week. Twix was about to speak up again when Mob shoved him to shut up which he did giving Mob a deep glare. You just sighed once again.

“Okay so first, thank you for the copper and second, both of you get lost and let me cook dinner with Twix.” You passed Verity to Mob who had a firm grip on Verity as some way to show that he was upset or like pissed off. Mob walked outside with Verity to the backyard garden to pick some vegetables so you and Twix could cook dinner.

Twix looked at you before crossing his arms. “I hope you know they were arguing over you again.” He took out all of the edible stuff he had in his bag onto the kitchen counters and started chopping them up with a kitchen knife. You stood beside him taking the chopped up vegetables and washing them off with cold water.

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed! I’m sorry for not posting much mama Kura has been working on ao3 and I’ve been losing motivation but I’m gonna make a comeback