#as far as the rest of the amusement park I have no clue what it looks like!

[omnicom]

Pokeshipping Week 2023

Day 1: First Date

I'll be honest, I'm actually still working on the themes even as I post this. 😅 Can't really explain why, but just letting everyone know that any tardiness on my part is something I take full accountability for. Forgive me!

First date is to an amusement park~! But whoops, looks like someone lost balance! Hopefully there's a first aid kit in that backpack of his, otherwise Ash will be dealing with a pretty bad sting~

Art © Crumpled-Hakui

Like what you see? Want art like this of your own? Check out my art commission post here and send me an email or private message! Thanks for stopping by!

#pokemon #pokeshipping week 2023 #pokeshipping week #fanart #ash ketchum #misty #pikachu #azurill #satokasu #pokeshipping #ash and misty #my art #pic post #the headbands are based off Let's Go Pikachu/Eevee~ #as far as the rest of the amusement park I have no clue what it looks like! #just flying by the seat of my pants with drawing that map there #also also that's supposed to be the made-up language in the anime on Misty's shirt #it's not an actual word or anything

[adnauseum11]

Return to Base (John Price x Reader)

John helps you celebrate your last day of work.

2.2k word (longer one, sorry!)

CW: swearing, mild violence, suggestive themes

Feedback welcome!

Your last day at work comes fast, having only given one week notice. John has unlocked some sort of laissez faire demon inside you, encouraging you to do what you want with little regard for standard procedures. You can’t stomach the idea of sitting through two more weeks of mind-numbing torture, so you simply don’t, your former employer’s opinion on the matter somehow no longer consequential. You haven’t decided yet if John has been a bad influence on your already impulsive nature or just given you the confidence to do what you wanted all along. The idea of being wholly reliant on someone – even if it is John, one of the most reliable people you know – makes your toes curl in anxiety. The last few days of your period become an emotional rollercoaster but John, blessed man, takes it all in stride without so much as blinking twice. 

It should come as no surprise to you that your belongings fit into a single banker’s box, but it somehow still does. Cleaning out your desk only takes a fraction of the time you’ve set aside for the task. Your lack of interest in decorating your space ought to have been a clue to your lack of enthusiasm for the job. Co-workers you have maintained tepid friendships with wish you well and eat cake on your behalf at lunch. You are supremely grateful that John can pick you up shortly afterwards, negating your need to navigate public transport - or any further well wishes with an awkward box in your arms. You don’t even manage to summon guilt over not learning the route from the wretched building back to the flat, John never giving you the opportunity. Your decision to quit came hot on the heels of moving in with him, the most tumultuous few days you can remember since your parents died. 

When he arrives, even John is taken aback by how little you have to remove from the premises, knowing your penchant for making a space your own. 

“This is it? Everything in only one box?” He’s eyeing you as if you’re about to drop the news that there are six more waiting in the lobby just out of sight. 

“I know. I didn’t realize until I was packing how little I brought in.”

“Well, let’s be grateful for small mercies I suppose, love.”

John smiles, relieving you of the box and settling it onto the floor of the backseat so it doesn’t slide around. The drive home is far more relaxed than you had anticipated, suddenly no longer wracked with guilt over your choice. The finality of it more freeing than you had imagined. John is in a good mood too and it’s catching you up, so you agree to his suggestion to go to his local pub even though it’s still somewhat early. Your local pub now, too. John parks and you wander down hand in hand in the afternoon sunshine, not bothering to remove your box from the back seat of the car first.

John baits you with a familiar argument about his beloved Liverpool’s trade options before the transfer window and within two pints you are in fine form. You can’t help bickering with him to the amusement of the bartender, any concerns of work long forgotten. The two of you have set up shop at the end of the rail, next to where the waitress punches her orders in, out of the main flow of the room. 

“What a waste of money, the man will be injury riddled, mark my words.” 

You’re proselytizing, waving off John’s sputtering protests about a potential acquisition. He’s about to list all the goal stats for the player in question again when you cut him off, feeling your alcohol. 

“Wanna make a bet? I’ve heard the stats twice now, hot stuff, but I don’t know what the past is going to do for his present - which is babying his ACL until it inevitably tears again.”

“What do you want to bet, love? Better be something you can stand to lose.” 

John’s teasing, his arm resting on the bar, his focus mostly on you. He can see down the bar over your shoulder and motions to the bartender for another round when the other man looks to your corner. You bite your lip and smirk, not answering, waiting for his attention to resettle. 

It only takes John about three seconds to catch up to the gutter your mind is currently in. His pupils dilate slightly, making his blue eyes look darker in the low pub lights. 

“It’s like that, is it, love?” His voice deepens, pitched low for you only. 

“Could be, if you want?”

“What kind of a question is that? Of course.” 

He scoffs, thanking the bartender when he drops the pair of pints by your elbow. You hand one over to the mischievous man perched at at your side, his free hand working its way upwards from your knee. 

“What’s a successful season then? Twenty goals?”

“Twenty? How about fifteen?” He counters, and you can’t help but laugh at his lowball offer.

“No, don’t be ridiculous, what will that prove? I’ll meet you in the middle at eighteen.”

“Alright love. Eighteen goals. What do I get when I win? Give it to me in detail.” 

His fingers are hooking themselves into the edge of your back pocket, his sharp blue eyes trained on you intently. 

You’re about to respond when somewhere further down the bar a glass shatters amid a round of shouting. It startles you and has John’s head jerking up, looking for the source. His palm settles on your upper thigh, keeping you in place as he slides off his stool, standing beside you. The disturbance is soon smoothed over, but John doesn’t return to his seat, hovering at your side instead. You know from prior experience he won’t key down if you stay at the rail of the bar as the volume only seems to be going up inside. The evening crowd is filtering in, younger and louder than either of you these days. You rest your hand on his chest, getting his attention back from the crowd. 

“Do you want to go outside and finish these?” You hold up your nearly full pint and John’s nodding before you set it down again. He shrugs into his jacket again and you do the same, slinging your purse over your shoulder after sliding cash under one of the empty pint glasses to settle the tab. You grab your pint and follow John as he cuts a swath through the pub to the heaters set up out front for the smoking crowd. 

It's quieter out here and the cool air gives you an excuse to press into John’s solid form. He’s still on edge but doesn’t pull away when you wrap his arm around your shoulders. You drink your pint as you try to ease him back into a conversation.

“What about our bet? You want to shake on it to seal the deal?” You redirect him to your previous conversation, hoping the lure of sexual favours will be enough to lift his mood again. It seemingly works, because he’s squeezing you and bending to press his mouth to your temple.

“Given the nature of the deal, that seems a bit too unfamiliar, don’t you think love?”

“Depends on what we’re shaking I suppose.” You smirk, bumping your elbow into his belly gently, making him chuckle lowly.

“I’d settle for lips if you are insisting on closing this deal here and now.” John answers archly, making you smile into your pint before you shoot him an amused look. 

“Mmk, fair.” You raise up on your toes and kiss him, gripping his jacket with your free hand. 

John’s lips are warm, in sharp contrast to the cool winter air and you steal a second kiss before releasing your grip on his jacket. 

“For luck.” You grin and he swats at your ass lazily, fondness shining in his eyes. 

“Cheeky, already cheating, love.” He chastises, his big body blocking most of the other pub goers, huddled outside around the heaters. 

You are grateful to be outside in the falling dark, hidden from sight so no one can see you blush at John’s hands on your body. The buzz the alcohol is giving you is blending with the heady arousal his nearness brings, making you giddy and handsy. John’s handling his alcohol better, indulgent with your hands in his shirt and jacket, picking at him. 

He relaxes more but he’s still on edge, his eyes constantly roaming. As familiar as you are with John, there are still some sides of him that you don’t see often, and his agitated side is one of them. You aren’t versed enough to know what helps ease him out of it and bite your lip in thought, shifting beside him. Likely getting some distance between yourselves and the increasingly rowdy crowd would be a decent start, you can’t help but think fuzzily. 

“Let’s get out of here and finish up the leftovers at home, what do you say hot stuff?”

John brings his attention back to you and tries to hide his smile at your use of ‘home’ to describe his flat. He agrees easily, needing no further convincing and you take a last sip before handing him the nearly empty glass. He finishes off his pint and stacks the glasses, carrying them back to set on the bar for the staff. You turn and wait for him, rocking on your toes in the cold, missing his warmth at your side already. 

An arm settles over your shoulders again, but the angle is all wrong, too low against your frame. You jerk your shoulders up to your ears, trying to dislodge the heavy weight of the stranger’s arm. 

“Hey!” Your balance is shot from the beer, and you sway unsteadily as you try to get free, pressing into the stranger’s side more closely than you would prefer.

“S’alright babe, just helping you warm up, hey?”

“Get off of me, the fuck do you think you are doing?” You elbow the strange man hard in the ribs and his arm tightens around you, dragging you closer. 

“Over here, we’ve got a heater for ya’.” You can smell the booze and cigarettes on his breath, his face way to close to your own. You scrunch up your nose and try to pull out of his orbit. 

“I’m here with someone, get off!”

“Ah shame, he’s ditched you, has he? Nice looking bird like yourself ought to have -“

Just as you are debating trying to duck out of his grip backwards, John’s back looking positively thunderous. 

“Oi!”

The stranger is suddenly dropping his own pint with a smash as John bends his arm back in a clearly unnatural angle, forcing him to let go of you to stay on his feet as he’s physically moved off. 

“Fuck!” 

The drunk man yells, drawing the attention of everyone nearby. John forces him onto his tiptoes with his vice-like grip, awkwardly stepping the drunk away from you. 

“Fucking hands to yourself, you worthless git.”

John’s tone is black with menace and it straightens your spine with alarm.

“Christ, it’s alright John, I’m alright.” 

The last time you saw John’s face so severe was during the break-in, which makes you pause in reaching for his arm to tug him away. Your hands flutter in front of you while you desperately try to get your alcohol-soaked brain to process faster.   

“Apologize!” John’s ignoring you, jolting the man’s arm and making him yelp loudly in pain. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry. Didn’t mean nothing.” He half shouts and the crowd are murmuring, gossiping about what’s going on. You can feel your cheeks flame and bite your lip, anxiously twisting your fingers.

“Alright, it’s alright. We’re good.” 

You try a soothing tone of voice, acknowledging the apology for the sake of the man’s elbow joint.

“What a load of shite.” 

John shoves the man hard, his arm twisted back and unable to break his fall. He lands hard and heavy on his side, his shoulder at an awkward angle making him cry out. His mates rush forward to help him to his feet, talking over top of each other. You take that as your cue and wrap yourself around John’s arm before he can take a step forward. 

“Please John, I’m sick of the police. Come on, let’s go home. He learned his lesson.” 

You coax, taking a few steps away onto the sidewalk. He reluctantly follows, and you can feel the tension thrumming through his big frame when his hand wraps around yours.

“I would fucking hope so, the waste of skin.” 

John all but spits at the crowd trying to help the drunk man and his injured arm up. None look brave enough to test their mettle against him in defence of their friend, to your silent and sincere thanks. His long strides quickly catch up with you, and then it’s you who has to scurry to keep pace with him on the walk back, his fingers firmly entwined with yours, tugging you along. 

Next Chapter

Tag list:

@deadbranch @beebeechaos @cadotoast @syoddeye @writeforfandoms @itr-00 @chloepluto1306 @batw3nch

Ao3

#fanfic #captain john price #call of duty #john price x reader #john price cod #john price #friends to lovers #john price x f!reader #night out #slice of life #cod fanfic #fanfiction #ao3fic

[fandom-madness69]

I'm a day late and a dollar short but what's new?!

We have GOT to talk about the REST of the Thrill Ride O' Love scene. Especially the animatics along the walls telling Hephaestus's story. Because as jarring of a song as What Is Love? was in that scene if fucking fit so well!

First we get the Shadow Hera! Larger than life. Big regal gown, tall adorning crown, Mother of the Gods of Olympus, Goddess of Marriage.

And we get her getting pregnant with Hephaestus! All the way down to his little baby blacksmithing tools :3

And then we see her throw Hephaestus off Mount. Olympus. As is told in his story.

But there's a thing that really caught my attention here. Because in the rest of the story we see him leave out not a single important character to his story! So where is his father? The big guy himself Zeus?

Unless! They're going with the versions of Hephaestus's story where Hera miraculously convinced Hephaestus. Because we've seen Rick switch up the Medusa story. And wow do we love him for it!

But that's not my only point! Circling back to the song and then later on to the story about how Hephaestus trapped Hera, his own fucking mother btw in case that flew over anyone's head like it did mine the first few times I watched ep. 5, and so the gods offered him Aphrodite's hand in marriage in exchange for Hera's freedom.

The whole rest of the time Hephaestus has painted himself the tragic dude in the story. Not necessarily the hero but definitely the victim. We see him get rejected by his mother. By Aphrodite for Ares, from the fucking BEGINGING, and then so on.

But what really fucking gets me is not only did he do this ride exactly like this as a trap for his wife and her lover BUT that he had no fucking clue they were there! He was willing to force Ares to sacrifice Aphrodite, his OWN FUCKING WIFE, over a shield and not think twice of it. He wouldn't have fucking known they were there because as we can clearly see by this counter

He clearly wasn't alerted to the presence of his wife and her love affair! Meaning they just fucking materialized in his amusement park, like gods do.

And the words of the song. Oh the words. "Baby don't hurt me no more?" How about you're the only one who has caused any harm since your mother tossed you off Olympus? And NO I AM NOT EXCUSING WHAT HERA DID! Don't even go there. That's for another time.

You repeatedly got rejected and bro I get it. That shit hurts. As a fellow Black Sheep of the Family™️ I fucking understand my dude. And I also completely understand how much gods don't fucking understand humans. And so it wasn't even a concept in his mind to do anything other than what his family had already done to him. Backstab, betray and barter.

But to have the audacity to beg the woman who didn't want anything to do with you, still doesn't, and was forced to wed you to save her mother, YOUR MOTHER, not to hurt YOU anymore! Sickening.

But he gets it. Now anyway. Or he's starting to. Because of Annabeth. Because she found a friend who is giving her unconditional love. Who isn't making her earn it despite having told her he would earn hers! And she's doing the same. She's falling apart and building herself back up all with this one (1) boy's help. And neither of them know it yet. But ohohohohoho they will soon.

And these few moments Hephaestus spent with Annabeth gave him the biggest vibe check of his fucking immortal life. "Maybe some of us don't want to be that way anymore either?"

Like Sir are you realizing that you TOO took things too far? Not even this time like you said Athena did, which btw she's always taken it too far just throwing this in here, but really? Are you getting it now? Did the twelve year olds fighting to sacrifice themselves despite everything fucking shake your world? Rock you to your very atoms? GOOD! You victim mentality, hero complex asshole.

#percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo tv show #pjo spoilers #pjo tv spoilers #pjo hephaestus #hephaestus #vid rants #pjo season 1 #pjo gif #pjo series #pjo fandom #pjo hoo toa #pjo #flashing gif #gifset #my gifs #gif

[p-artsypants]

Paint It Black (3) Helping

Robin disappeared three months ago. Now, Jump City's crime rate is mysteriously being taken care of by a normal, albeit strange, teenage boy who goes by the name Black. As the Titans befriend this lunatic, they begin to see a correlation between him and their missing leader. Will they be able to find Robin, or will Black turn them all insane as himself? [Actually, does not contain an OC]

Ao3

Starfire went out for patrol. She hadn’t really wanted to, as she hadn’t wanted to do anything lately. But she’d feel worse if anything happened to a civilian when she could help. 

Or if there was a clue to Robin she missed. 

She shouldn’t have worried so much. The evening patrol was quiet. As she passed, people smiled and waved. Even on the unpleasant side of town, the men that loitered on stoops gave her nods as greetings. 

“Any word about your boyfriend yet?” Some guy asked. 

“I am afraid not.”

“Too bad. Hey, keep your chin up, Space Chick. You guys still make this city a good place to live.” 

Starfire smiled widely at the man. “That is what we have always strived to do!” 

Starfire ended her patrol at the South pier, where the amusement park was. This place held fond and now painful memories for her, as she and Robin had shared many evenings at the park. It was nights when heroes weren’t needed, and they could just be teens. Robin brought her here to share some of the joys of Earth. 

They were in their fall season, and in just a few short weeks, they’d be closed until spring. Starfire hadn’t gone at all that year. Most of the season, Robin had been gone, and in the early season, he’d been emotionally absent. Distracted by whatever ended up making him go missing. 

“A walk down the pier will not hurt,” she tried to convince herself. 

But it did, a lot. As she wandered, her gaze would fall upon the stalls where she’d relive a memory of Robin trying to win her a stuffed animal. 

Eventually, she was so downtrodden, she was too sad to fly. In order to get home, she’d need something to pick her mood back up. 

The cotton candy cart was open. 

Starfire sat down at a bench near the end of the pier with her treat. Yes, some fun sugar would be just enough to get her back. 

“Oohh! A pink cloud! Don’t mind if I do!” A hand ripped off a piece of her cotton candy. 

“Excuse me!” Starfire snapped, not in the mood to deal with rude people. 

But Black sat next to her on the bench, looking out over the ocean with her. Her anger disappeared fairly rapidly. 

“Oh, it is only you, Friend Black.” 

He turned to her, a huge smile on his face. “You called me your friend!” 

But instead of a jovial response, Starfire gaped at him. She hadn’t noticed at first, but now she could see the far side of his face was covered in blood. 

“You are bleeding!” 

“I am?”

“Your face! It is quite graphic!” 

He felt around, and touched the blood. “Ohhh that’s why people were giving me those looks! That makes more sense now.” 

She fretted over him, trying to figure out how to fix it. “What has happened? How did you end up in just a state?”

“Oh, I took a stabaroni to the noodle. No bigs.” 

“A what to the what?”

“A knife to the head.”

“A knife!? Friend Black, you must come with me to the Tower and get fixed up!” 

“Oh I’m fine. Happens all the time.” 

This made Starfire even more terrified. “No! I shall take you home and Raven and Cyborg shall fix you up! You cannot run around with an open wound on your head!”

“What about your cotton candy?”

With one swipe of her three foot long tongue and a gulp, the rest of the cotton candy was gone. 

“Hot.”

“Now please, come with me!” 

Black leapt into her lap. “I’ll go wherever you want me to go, Sweetcheeks!”   

Starfire didn’t care about his flirting, and scooped him up into her arms, and took off into the air. 

“Wh-wh-whoa!” Black wrapped his arms around her neck. “We’re flying!” 

“It is the quickest way home!” 

“Wait! Hold me by the waist so I can hold out my arms!” 

“No!” 

“It’ll be funny!” 

“You are gravely injured, Black!” 

“Booooo!” 

They landed on the roof of Titans Tower, and Starfire set him down gently. “Please, wait here and don’t move!” 

He looked around the open rooftop that was easily twelve stories off the ground. “Where would I go?!” 

Starfire rushed inside and zoomed through the halls. She headed to the medical wing, and took out her communicator on the way. 

“Starfire to all Titans! I found Black while out on patrol! I have left him on the rooftop, and he is gravely injured!” 

“Rooftop? Our rooftop?” Beast Boy asked. 

“How injured?” Asked Raven.

“I believe he needs sutures! He said he was stabbed!” At this point, she had reached the medical wing and started gathering bandages, the suture kit, and whatever else she thought he’d need. “I am gathering supplies now. I must also add, he smells quite bad.”

“How bad we talkin’? Beast Boy bad?” 

“Hey!”

“Worse than Beast Boy!” 

“HEY!” 

“I’m on my way to the roof,” Raven responded. 

Starfire hurried to gather everything and flew back to the roof where Raven and Beast Boy were already waiting. Black was sitting propped up against a wall. 

“I don’t know how to help,” said Beast Boy. “But I’m here.” 

“Here,” Raven threw him a rag and water bottle from Star’s supply. “Clean his face.”

Black looked relatively calm despite his wound. 

“Uh, here dude.” Beast Boy wetted the rag and started dabbing the blood off his cheek. 

Black just turned his cheek towards them, a patient and somewhat dim-witted smile on his face. 

“I’ll sanitize and numb the area,” Raven hovered her hand over the wound. “Stitches may still hurt, but this will ease the pain.” 

“Gee wiz guys! This is awfully nice of you. I kinda like my face, so I didn’t want it to fall off.” 

“Whoo!” Beast Boy recoiled. “You weren’t kidding, Star. He reeks!”

“Moldy boy say what?”

“I’m not moldy!” 

“I smell an infection. Black, do you have any other injuries?” 

“Oh so many, Mrs. Magpie! But no worries. They aren’t so bad. But this one…” he tapped his temple. “This one’s pretty nasty.” 

“Alright,” Cyborg declared, coming up to the roof. He started putting on nitrile gloves. “Where’s my crazy buddy?”

“Borgy Boy! I got a boo-boo!” 

“You sure do, kid.” He opened the suture kit Starfire retrieved and prepared the needle and thread. “BB, can you hold the rag to his head? Put pressure on it. Star, when I start stitching him up, I will probably need you to hold him still so he doesn’t jerk away.”  

“I have that handled!” She slid in behind him, arms around his shoulders. 

“Oh, this is nice. I don’t get hugs very often!” 

“Here we go,” Cyborg raised the needle. 

Black’s eyes widened and true, unrepentant fear scrawled across his face. 

“He’s gonna bolt,” Raven observed. 

“Not under my watch!” Starfire strong-armed him to her chest, and then used her hand to turn his face and keep him steady. “I am sorry to man-handle you, Friend.” 

With the needle out of his vision, he calmed slightly. “You can man-handle me all day, Kim Possible.” 

Cyborg pulled the first stitch and Black winced. “Oh!” Then the next one, “owie!” Then the next. “Ouchie!” And then the next—

Black let out a string of profanity that was so foul, it made everyone pause. He hurled slurs and horrible derogatory names. Then, he breathed. “I mean, ow.” 

Raven returned her healing magic to his wound and his anger started to wane.

Beast Boy dutifully wiped more blood away. 

“Hey, I get the need to swear, but I’m not gonna take you calling me those names, got it, pal?” Cyborg said sternly, putting in the next stitch. 

Black winced again. “So so so sorry, Baby Borg. Won’t happen again! Ouchie!” 

A few more stitches, and Black behaved, making cutesy sounds of pain before Cyborg either hit another nerve, or the pain was just too much. 

“MOTHER–” and Black let the stream of profanity go as he thrashed in Starfire’s arms. 

“I do not need to knock you unconscious, do I?” Starfire asked, giving him a hearty squeeze. 

Black struggled to breathe for a second, because of Starfire’s grasp. Then he calmed down. “I’m sorry, it just really freaking hurts!” 

“Did this one too?” Beast Boy pointed at the scar on his mouth. Both scars were on the same side of his face. 

Black flexed his cheek, thinking about it. 

“Mmmm can’t remember.” 

“It looks like it’s still healing,” Raven commented. “How long did you say you’ve been without your memories?” 

He shrugged. 

Cyborg put the final stitch in his head, and started rubbing an antiseptic cream on it. “Make sure you keep this clean, okay man?” 

“Okie dokie smokie!” 

Then, while Starfire still had him pinned, Cyborg examined the scar on his cheek. He stuck a finger in Black’s mouth and felt the inside of his cheek. 

“‘AY! ‘Osh a ig iea?” Black garbled. 

“This wound went all the way through his face. It looks like it was crudely stitched up. But it mostly healed. Not much to do about it.” 

Black blew a raspberry. “You could have warned me before probing me!” 

“And if I had, you would have bit me,” Cyborg argued. 

“You have no proof!” 

“How do you feel?” Starfire asked, releasing him. 

Black felt the stitches in his hairline, before Cyborg smacked his hand. “Ow!”

“Don’t touch it!” 

“I feel…better. Thank you.” 

“Do you need a place to crash for the night?” Beast Boy asked. 

“Nah, I got a place.” He looked at Starfire. “You mind flying me back home, Beautiful?” 

Starfire gave him a smile. “That, I can do. If you are sure.” 

“I’m sure.” 

“Here, just in case.” Cyborg gave him the first aid kit that had bandaids and alcohol swabs in it. “Try not to get hurt any more, okay?” 

Black tucked the kit inside his coat. “No promises Borgy-Boy.” Then he broke into a dead sprint towards the edge of the tower. 

Starfire shrieked and flew after him, catching him just as he cleared the edge. He whooped with joy as they took off into the air. 

“He’s going to get himself killed,” Raven said drolly. 

—

Starfire flew Black over the city, holding his waist like he had requested the first time. He had his arms out and continued to cry in excitement. “Higher! Faster!” 

“Perhaps we shall some other time,” Starfire argued, “for I do not wish to make your wound worse.” 

“Kill joy!” He reached up and grabbed her arms. “StarStar, can you drop me off at that tall red and black building?”

“The Wayne Tower?”

“That’s it!”

“Whatever for? It is far from where you said you were living!”

“I need to do something.”

She swooped down, letting his feet touch the roof. She let him go when she was confident he had his balance. Even then, she returned the grip he had on her arms. “Are you certain about this?”

“Yeppers! All good!” 

She did not let go. She landed next to him, her brow furrowing. Something inside of her was screaming, demanding that she disobey him. “I am sorry, but I simply must take you to your home. You should rest.” 

Black’s dopey grin slowly faded away into a scowl. He tilted his head down, his eyebrows now partially obscuring his eyes. “I insist.” He said darkly. 

“As do I!” 

His grip on her arms turned painful, as he pulled her closer. “Let me be clear…” 

Starfire panicked at this change of tone. Sure, she could handle herself in a fight, but his grip was violent and unyielding.

“I have been watching you and the others for a while now, but you never noticed me. I let you meet me. I let you help me tonight. I allow you to see me. But when I don’t want you to find me, you won’t.” 

“B-Black? You are…hurting me…” She winced at his grip. 

“Then I know you’re listening.” He pulled her closer still, and forced her to meet those insane blue eyes that were filled with trauma. “You’re going to go back to your tower and tell the rest of them I was delivered safely. You will not tell them you dropped me off here, and you will not tell them what I have said.” 

“But–”

His nails dug into her skin. “DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!” He screamed. 

“Y-yes!” She cried. 

Instantly, he let go, and a friendly smile returned to his face. “Great! Bye bye Twinky Star!” He turned and jumped within the giant ‘W’ sign on the building, and seemingly disappeared. 

Starfire, unsettled and quite upset, used any happy memory she had to get her back to the tower. 

When she returned, her teammates were still on the roof, talking. She landed, the haunted and stricken look on her face obvious to everyone. 

“What’d the weirdo do?” 

She took a shuddering breath, the truth lodged in her throat. “As far as you all know, I dropped him off at the abandoned hat factory as he requested.” 

“As far as we know?” Raven inquired. 

“But…that is only what he asked me to say. He actually had me drop him off at the Wayne building downtown. When I insisted that I should take him home, he…changed.” She looked down to her arms, where little crescent shapes from his nails were visible. “He became…dark. He said he has been watching us, and we see him only when he allows it. Even tonight, he sought me out for help. It was…quite frightening.” 

“I believe it!” Beast Boy nearly shouted. “Did I tell you guys that he noticed me following him as a fly?! There’s no way he could have known!” 

“Raven, is he perhaps an empath? Or have powers similar to yours?”

“I could try to read his mind again when I see him, but I don’t think I’ll be able to. His mind is just…fragmented.” 

“We’re dealing with someone way more dangerous than initially thought.”

“So he stalks us. He’s a crazy fan! At least he’s stopping crime!” 

“Or so he wants us to think,” said Raven. “If that’s all we’ve ever seen him do. If he's been watching us, he might be trying to find a way to take us down.”  

“We need to find a way to figure out what he’s up to. There is a possibility that he really is a fan and doesn’t want his crime fighting to get in our way. Slim chance, but it shouldn’t be ruled out.” 

"Maybe we should ask him to stay with us. I mean, we have extra space now. Be easier to watch him,” suggested Beast Boy.

Starfire stomped in anger. "Are you trying to say you want to replace Robin?!"

"No! No! No!" Cyborg held his hands up in defense. "We would never replace Rob! I think he’s just saying, Black needs a lot of help and if we can at least get him off the streets, we should!"

There was a long pause as the team thought it over.

"Like Terra?" Beast Boy piped in.

"Yeah…"

“Since when do we house homeless psychos?” Raven asked. “It’s more than we usually do. We can help him get into a shelter.” 

“No,” said Cyborg. “That kid seems like the type to not stay in a shelter. He’s trying to be independent. He’ll probably get kicked out.” 

“It might be worth a shot just…inviting him over? Maybe one night at a time?” Said Beast Boy. 

“And he’s got talent,” said Cyborg. “You should have seen him fight. He really handled himself.” 

“We should help if we can,” said Starfire. “...don’t you think Robin would think so?”

There was a pause before everyone mutually agreed.

—

“I can’t believe these booger flingers don’t let us put in pick up orders anymore,” Gizmo said, waiting for their fresh pizza to cool down. 

Mammoth didn’t wait, and started eating the steaming pie. “Probably memorized our number and know we never pay.” 

“Don’t know what they think making us sit in is going to do. I’m still gonna dine and dash.” 

The conversation ended quickly as Cyborg and Beast Boy joined them at the table. 

“Great! What do you pit sniffers want?!” 

“We haven’t even done anything!” Mammoth protested. Then, a little quieter, “yet.” 

“I need a favor,” said Cyborg, his eye pinning Gizmo. 

“No stinkin’ way! Me, do you a favor? As if!” 

Cyborg was not deterred. He placed the SD card onto the table. “You know how to recover corrupted video files?” 

Gizmo scoffed, “Of course I know how to do something so simple, you carpet muncher.” 

Beast Boy snorted. “Dude, you know what that means?” 

“‘Course I do! It means you’re a pea brain and you can stick that card up your—” 

“How about a trade?” Cyborg offered, calmly. “I’ll buy your pizza here, and spot you for the next time.” 

Gizmo paused. A trade? Very interesting… “How about you pay for our pizza, and—” He grinned, “I want Robin’s files on us.” 

“Deal.” Cyborg said easily. “I’ll pay for your dinner now. You can have the files when the job is done.” And he got up. 

“Hey, what’s on this thing that’s so important, anyway?” 

Cyborg hesitated, but figured Gizmo would probably watch it anyway. “Clues to find Robin.” 

Gizmo scoffed. “You think Bird Brain is still alive?” 

“No,” Cyborg hung his head. “But we still want to find him.” 

After they left, Mammoth looked at the card on the table. 

Gizmo picked it up, and popped it into his computer right then and there. 

“You’re gonna do it?”

“Free pizza is free pizza.” Then he smirked. “And I’m wildly curious.” 

—

The next evening, Black took his normal patrol. The stitches on his head were hidden under a knit cap with a hole in it (from the dumpster). He looked just as grungy as the people he passed on the street. 

As he walked through town, he came across an electronic store and saw the news playing on the assortment of screens. It showed five teenagers. Four of whom he recognized.

"There has still been no news of the whereabouts of the Titans leader, Robin, since his disappearance four months ago. The team has issued a statement."

Starfire's face showed up on the screen, her expression grave. "Please, if you have any knowledge of his location, please let us know. We miss him a great deal. Not only was he our leader, but he was also our friend. There is a reward for his return, and if a criminal gives us a tip, we will do our best to have their record cleaned up."

"Starfire?" He asked, looking at the screen.

The newscaster continued. "While the case of the missing leader has yet to be closed, the mayor has allocated the funds to build a statue in honor of the teen hero. The word memorial has been passed around, but the mayor insists this is in honor of Robin and his team."

"Robin?" Why did that name seem so familiar? Why did it make him so angry? Before he realized it, he had punched through the window. Passersby looked at him in concern.

"Leave me alone!" He shouted, covering his face in his bloody hands. His vision blurred and faded as he ran off.

By the time he came back to his senses, he was at his makeshift home, the abandoned hat factory. He took a breath and gathered his emotions. As usual, he couldn’t remember what happened during the duration of his journey here. He couldn’t even remember what route he took. A normal person would have been deeply disturbed by the lapses in lucidity, but Black was not a normal person, and was rather used to it at this point.

What he wasn’t used to, however, were a pair of guards with guns standing in front of the factory. Technically, he had made his home inside the comically large hat that was on top of the factory as decoration, but he did occasionally sneak into the factory on colder nights. 

“What’s good, my dudes?” Black asked, strolling up to the guards. 

“Beat it kid,” one said with a growl. 

Black did not leave, but considered these men more, strolling past them with a finger on his chin. 

The guards were armed, but they were wearing suits like ushers in a theater. Complete with red cumberbuns. 

“You gentlemen look dapper! Is the factory getting back in business?” 

“I said scram!” The guard said again. 

“What kind of guns are those?” 

“The lethal kind.” And one of the guards raised his weapon and aimed it at Black. “Not gonna tell you again, get lost!” 

“You’ve said three different things,” Black argued. “Beat it, scram, get lost. What do you want me to do?” 

“Is this kid stupid?” One guard asked the other. 

“Clearly.” 

“Okay, but like, I live here. Not here, but in the hat. I fixed it up nice too! So if this place is back in business, I think it’s only fair that I pay rent. I have a few nickels?” 

A voice called from inside, “What in the name of Houdini is going on out there?!”

“Nothing boss, just a dumb goth kid!” 

“Black?! Is that you!?” Beast Boy’s voice followed a beat after. 

“Man, get out of here!” Cyborg called. 

Oh, so this was a super villain thing! His first big break! 

“Ohhhh…” Black nodded sagely. “I see what this is.” 

“Then you have to the count of 3! 1…2…–”

Black sent a fist one way and a kick the other. Striking one enemy in the face and the other in the balls. Ball man dropped his gun and curled up while face man shot a few rounds into the air. Black followed up on face man with a karate chop to the throat, punch to the stomach, and escorted his face into the pavement. Ball man started to recover, but not quickly enough before getting donkey kicked in the knee and then slammed backwards into the wall, unconscious. 

Black then went to the now-unguarded door, and threw it open. 

Inside, he saw his friends dangling together from a variety of colored ribbons in the center of the room. They were encased in a dark energy, while surrounded on the outside by several more of those well-dressed guards with guns. A man with blue skin and a top hat stood on a crate on the edge of the room. 

“Black, you must leave!” Starfire yelled. “This is not a fight for you!” 

“Ah! So this is the little street Batman I’ve heard so much about!” The villain, Mumbo, laughed. “By all means, I’d love to see you try anything. The Titans walked right into my trap, and unless you have anything remotely helpful, they will die. And you will too, unless you turn around and walk out.”

Three guards changed their aim from the Titans to Black. 

Black put his hands on his hips. “You aren’t being hospitable.” 

Raven scoffed. “This kid is going to get himself killed.” 

Mumbo just laughed. “Not only am I not hospitable, but I’m outwardly hostile! Did you miss that?!”

Black frowned hard. “I really freaking hate clowns.”

“I’m not a clown! I’m a magician!”  

“Then why do you look like a strange Smurf-Pinochino crossbreed?”

Mumbo turned purple and literal steam blew out his ears. “Oh so he thinks he’s a comedian! Kill him!” 

“No!” Starfire shouted. 

But Black merely darted behind a stack of crates, taking no shots. The henchmen continued firing on the crates, splintering the wood. 

“Cease fire!” Mumbo called after the crates were nearly destroyed. “That should be enough. Besides, ammo is expensive. No need to waste it on a little pretend hero.” He waved to someone to go check. 

“Boss, he’s gone!”

“What?!”

“There’s an open vent over here!” 

A voice called angrily from the ceiling. “Get your bitch ass out of my basement, ya goober!” 

“He’s in the ventilation system!” Mumbo called. 

The henchmen started shooting at the exposed aluminum ductwork. The sprinkler system got hit and water started raining down in the room. 

“Stop wasting bullets you idiots!” 

The moment they stopped shooting, Black popped out of the vent directly above the Titans, now gray and fuzzy from dust, and descended the scarves like a Cirque Du Soleil acrobat, contorting into inhuman shapes. 

“Black, seriously, you’re outnumbered! We all are!” Cyborg warned. 

Black just laughed as he continued to twist and flip, cutting the fabric with a pocket knife as he descended. He hit the dark aura that surrounded his friends, expecting to be able to move into it. 

“Hey, what gives?”

“That’s Raven’s shield, it’s the only thing keeping us from being shot!” Said Beast Boy. 

“Then how the beans am I supposed to rescue you guys?”

“You aren’t!” Said Cyborg, “we’ll figure a way out, but you need to go! We can’t protect you!” 

“Black!” Starfire shrieked.  

Black heeded her warning, and swung on the scarves to avoid the bullet aimed at his back. Then he glared at the henchmen that had shot at him. “It’s rude to interrupt a conversation!” He leapt from the shield and took a flying kick at the henchman, drilling the man with his heel and knocking him unconscious. 

Black wasted no time in his next attack, artfully flipping through the air to pounce and attack the next goon. 

“What are you waiting for?!” Shouted Mumbo. “Shoot him now!” 

“I can’t get a clear shot without hitting the others!” A goon called as Black soared through the sky and careened two skulls together. 

“Screw the others! I want that heckler dead!” 

“Raven, this side is clear!” Starfire announced as she finally burned through the scarves holding her. 

Raven released one side of the shield so Starfire could help Black. Beast Boy turned into a beaver and finished gnawing through the half burnt scarves holding him as well. 

“No!” Mumbo lamented. “I had you! They said you were all a bunch of unorganized morons without Robin!” 

Beast Boy turned into a rhino to clear the side that Raven and Cyborg were on. Raven was then able to free herself and Cyborg. “We’ll take that into consideration to be more careful next time we think we have a feeble old man cornered.”   

In a last ditch effort, Mumbo cast a spell at Starfire, catching her in the air in a cocoon of vibrant scarves again. He sent her crashing into a stack of boxes in the back of the warehouse. Anyone who knew the alien, knew she was fine. But Black didn't.

Almost immediately after the crash. Black screamed in protest, the sound startling everyone. "NO!!!" A look of sheer anger scrawled across his face, his eyes alight with hatred. He ran full throttle at the magician, screaming.

Mumbo let out a girlish shriek and tried to shield himself. Black did a double front flip and came up underneath his arms, locking his knees round the man's neck. The boy turned his hips violently and threw Mumbo around, and cranked him down to the concrete.

Cyborg came running when he heard his neck snap and him scream in pain. Mumbo laid on the ground, crying. The last three henchmen that had been fighting stopped and put their hands up. 

"DON’T. TOUCH. HER!" Black shouted in Mumbo’s face, speaking between punches. "NEVER. TOUCH. HER!" He kicked the man on the ground, then brought his foot up, preparing to smash his heel into his head. 

Starfire, who had already recovered, grabbed Black by his shoulders and pulled him back. "I am fine, friend. Do not fret!"

"You are a very bad man!" Black spat at the magician.

"P-please…I-I can't feel my legs…" After that attack, Mumbo had reverted back to his old man form, his magic faded away. "Help me!" He weakly grabbed Cyborg's arm. "I'll give up crime forever! Just-just get him away from me!"

"What is your problem?!" Beast Boy yelled at Black. "Don't you know anything?! You could have killed him! He's a thief! That's hardly worth the death sentence!"

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Black shouted with sarcasm. "But I thought my best friends' safety was most important! What about a thank you?! Or perhaps a Burger King coupon of gratitude?" Tears collected in his eyes. "I guess I don't really have any friends!" He turned and ran out of the warehouse.

"Wait! Black!" Starfire called.

"Later, Star! Mumbo needs medical attention!"

The alien watched dismally as the insane boy disappeared into the shadows.

The paramedics and police came and left. Mumbo had officially retired from crime, left with no choice, since he was now paralyzed. His henchmen that were still conscious were arrested, and some gave statements. In all, a bizarre end to a Titan battle.

The team began to shuffle into the car when Starfire looked up to the top hat atop the building.

"Coming Star?" Cyborg asked.

"No. I wish to talk to Black. I shall meet you all at home later."

Cyborg nodded at her request, and soon they were gone. Star floated up and hovered a few feet from the hat.

The hat was hollow, a fine shelter if you could get up to it. Black sat as a lump. His collar nearly covered his head, and he had his back to her.

The last time they had been alone, he had shown her a different side to himself. A cold, dark, cruel side. It made her defensive, but not unwilling to help this boy. 

"Black?" She asked.

"Frankie died," He replied.

The Alien hovered over to look over the boy's shoulder. In his hands lay a pigeon, unmoving. "I am sorry. I can not imagine the feeling of losing a pet."

"It feels like I stepped on a lego." He sniffed. "Unforgiving." He stood up quickly and clutched the bird. "IT'S THE CIRCLE OF LIFE!" He then chucked the dead animal hard into a nearby building. "I rather enjoy a good round of Angry Birds." Then he dusted off his hands, smiling normally, like nothing bad had happened in the last hour. 

Starfire cleared her throat and lowered to kneel on the roof. "I want to thank you for coming to our aid. And at the end, for standing up for me, but you did not have to. When I came to this planet, I created a massive crater in the asphalt, and came out without a scratch. It will take a lot for something to hurt me. We were working on a plan to get free, but you were most effective."

"Will I be sent to jail?" He asked, finally looking up at her with worry.

“I do not believe so, so say the police. Mumbo will need to go to a treatment facility instead of prison. We will take care of this.” 

"That’s good." He rubbed his eyes. "I feel very icky."

"Are you ill?" She reached out and touched his forehead.

"I felt like this after Green Boy yelled at me."

"Beast Boy," she corrected.

"Yeah, him."

"I think, perhaps, you feel guilty."

"Guilty?"

"It is the feeling one gets after they have done something they know is wrong. I think you are feeling upset with yourself. But, you did not know, and it was an accident."

"I'm…I’m not all there." He stated, pulling his hat off and ringing it in his hands. "I know. I have moments where I lose lucidity. I think that might be insanity. But I want to be a good insane. Not a bad insane. I was so close to being a murderer tonight. That scares me…more than clowns scare me." He nodded to indicate it was very serious.

"Is there such a thing as a good insane?" She asked.

“If there is, I will be the first.”

She smiled at that.

"You should smile more often. It gives me goose pimples."

“What made you jump in to help us? It seemed as if you did not hesitate to do so.” 

He scrunched up his face in thought as he laid back on top of the roof. “D’know. I saw the guards outside with guns and I just like…knew what to do. Everyone kept telling me to leave, but that seemed like a dumb thing to do.” He shrugged. “I am a pretty big fan of clunking people.” 

"Black, why don't you come back with me to the tower?" She took his hand. "We can help you. Maybe you can even remember who you used to be."

He shook his head. "No, no. I can handle myself. I like it here, in my hat. And I don't want to know who I was. He gives me nightmares that I don't want to have."

"I understand. I was hesitant to accept help when I came here. But, if you ever need anything, just let us know. I'm sure we'll be seeing much more of each other."

He looked at himself. "Except I don't have any other clothes, so unless my shirt rips off, I don't think you'll see much more than this."

She giggled. "Have a nice evening, Black."

He stared at her hard with his piercing blue eyes. His glance was calculating, unsure. His brows furrowed. "Starfire?"

Her eyes widened. "Y-yes?" At that moment, she wasn’t sure why, but she thought of Robin. Mumbo had been a great distraction, but the way Black said her name, it reminded her…

He pursed his lips, but that look of intense concentration faded away. "I've puzzled and puzzled until my puzzler was sore. And there's something about you that I've known from before."

"Is it the friend you told me about? The one you said you loved?"

"Maybe. But then again, what is love?"

Starfire blinked, not really knowing how to answer that.

"Baby don't hurt me," He sang as he bobbed his head.

She laughed, not really getting the reference. "Farewell, Black."

"Too-da-loo, Starfire."

#fanfiction #paint it black #teen titans #tt animated #robin #starfire #robstar #beast boy #cyborg #raven #dick grayson #koriand'r

[ridiasfangirlings]

What would Munakata do if he was the one that's trapped in a musical? Would he be okay with it? Use it to his advantage? I mean people sing their thoughts or feelings sometimes and it doesn't register with other people except Munakata who is aware. How about Mikoto though? Imagine them being the only ones aware of something weird going on.

Honestly I bet Munakata would enjoy being trapped in a musical, he’d probably find the whole thing very amusing. Maybe the whole town is like under the spell of the Musical Strain and only Munakata and Mikoto are immune due to being Kings. Munakata initially suspects something is odd when he gets to work in the morning and Doumyouji and Kamo sing their reports to him but he thinks perhaps they are just trying to demonstrate their creativity. He praises their song and they both look confused, Doumyouji’s like are you sick Captain all we did was deliver our report. Munakata’s just like ‘interesting’ as he tells them they can go back to work. He decides to go check on the rest of the force, he finds Awashima having her morning coffee and anko singing a ballad about the taste of red bean paste. Munakata hums along a little and then goes to find Fushimi, who is singing a very depressing song about how all the things he hates. Munakata makes himself known in the hopes that Fushimi might sing his true feelings but alas, all Munakata gets is the ‘My Boss is Being Annoying’ song.

Munakata is clearly aware by this point that something is odd but it also seems fairly harmless so he isn’t entirely worried, though maybe he’s a bit disappointed that thus far he has not felt the need to break out into song.  I imagine he would be the type to use this to his advantage too, like he goes into the city to try and get some clues as to what’s happening and he does this by listening closely to everyone’s songs. Munakata is very much the type to pick out little details and he probably memorizes most of the songs right after hearing so he can go over them in his head later. He realizes fairly quickly that this is a Strain issue, whether it will wear off on its own or not is questionable so he may need to find the Strain (the music soars and Munakata waits hopefully to sing his findings but nothing happens).

While he’s wandering the town he just so happens to run into Suoh Mikoto, asleep on a bench. Of course Munakata can’t resist a chance to bother him see what kind of music Suoh would make so Munakata kicks him in the head and notes that park benches are not for sleeping on. Mikoto grunts and gives him a look all ‘so you’re not singing either, huh,’ and Munakata can’t tell if he sounds annoyed or relieved. Munakata realizes that Mikoto must also be immune, if he’s noticed the singing as well. Mikoto shrugs as he lights a cigarette, like yeah Kusanagi sang the bar menu this morning and then all those guys did a conga line about how much they respect me. Munakata rolls his eyes and Mikoto gives him a grin like did your guys not do that are you jealous Munakata. Munakata states he does not require his men to literally sing his praises and Mikoto’s like so you are that unpopular. 

So now the two of them have to work together to find the Strain, though it’s really more Munakata dragging Mikoto around while Mikoto just wants everyone to stop singing so he can have a nap. Munakata wonders if their immunity is limited to simply being aware of the singing or if they aren’t affected at all, Mikoto’s like no one wants to hear you sing. Munakata thinks it could be intriguing to see what sort of music a man like Suoh would produce, Mikoto’s like too bad you won’t get to hear it. They realize when they’re approaching the Strain’s hideout by the rising music, Munakata is secretly very hopeful that they might do a duet but then Mikoto promptly just punches the Strain out without even asking about fixing things. Munakata sighs all of course you must always solve things in the bluntest way possible and Mikoto shrugs like I don’t hear music anymore it must have worked.

#k project #Talking K #Munakata would enjoy this too much #he too wants to break into song #he's planning an aria about bonding experiences #and he's secretly very sad he didn't get to sing #Mikoto just rolls with it #like he's not singing but if everyone else wants to sing well whatever

[siderealdei]

Whumptober 2023 - Day 7

Original fiction for Whumptober Day 7.

No. 7: “I paced around for hours on empty; I jumped at the slightest of sounds.”

Alleyway | Radio Silence | “Can you hear me?”

Can you hear me?

….

…

Guess not. Fuck. Well, there’s nothing I can do from my end, so I guess I’ll just – wait. See if you get the radio working on your end. Fuck!

Ow, ouch, shit. Shouldn’t have punched the wall. There’s just nothing at all to do in this fucking tomb – joking, joking.

Well. Hell. Maybe it will be my tomb. If you can’t get that radio working again, I’m probably going to die in here. No one will be able to find this place without a link, so I’ll – well, I’ll probably suffocate. If I don’t go crazy first from lack of space and lack of contact and –

Yeah. Yeah, shutting up now.

…

Still nothing, huh?

Hey, you know, I read somewhere that when you’re in a cave, deep below the earth, where there’s no light, eventually your brain just starts making up shit, pretending you can see shadows moving or something like that. Just, giving itself input. Like a glitching computer. I’ve kind of experienced that, I think. At night, when I’m asleep in my room. The soundproofing’s so good I can’t hear anything – except maybe I can. The house settling, or the neighbors playing music. But what if that’s just all in my head?

I wonder what I might hear this time. If I start hallucinating again.

Hah, sorry. Said I’d stop this line of thinking. I just can’t seem to help it. Anxiety or paranoia. The lack of anything is just really getting to me. I’m so used to you responding as soon as I start babbling or even before. You always know right when to interfere, to say something when I’m too wrapped up in my own head or the readouts.

Do you think that’s why they deployed the EMP? Or whatever it is I saw on radar right before everything went black. Do you think they knew what it would do to me and everyone else on watch to have things go silent like this? For all the readouts to go dark and then to plummet to the fucking ground like an amusement park ride?

Thank fuck all the failsafes for that part of the balloon-tombs are mechanical.

…is someone outside?

…

…

Hello? Is someone out there? I can – I can hear you, scratching away. Please don’t be a bear, please, please, do not be a bear looking for food, shit, that’s the most terrifying thought I’ve had yet, I do not want to be eaten, come on, I’m a city girl, this nature shit is for other people.

Yeah, that’s why I’ve never taken you up on all your crazy backpacking invites during our mandatory rest periods. I’m much happier in the city, only ever seeing all this greenery and these animals on TV or from way up high. But now I’ve crashed back down in the middle of nowhere, whatever was underneath my nice safe pod, and there’s probably a fucking bear or three trying to get through the tin can to the delicious meat inside –

No, wait, not delicious. I’m, uh, stringy and lean and my shitty diet means that I’m junk food, unfilling –

Huh. Huh, I think the scratching stopped.

What –

Shit, what’s that? There’s a different sound now. I don’t – shit, I really don’t like this. I’d go so far as to say I purely hate whatever the fuck is happening and only like fifty percent of that comes from the fact that I have no clue what’s happening. Please, please just be me hallucinating, that’s honestly the best outcome here –

Hey, uh. Hey, if you can, by some fucking miracle hear me, or if you recover the recording, provided there is one given that I still don’t know why I crashed, hey, would you – you’ll remember me, right? We were honestly friends, right? It wasn’t just us being partnered for the Watch. It wasn’t just in my head.

Right?

If that’s true – you know what I want you to do. If there’s anything left of me. But also with my – with my stuff, and notifying people, and – yeah. Yeah, thank you.

Fuck, I’m so scared, and I don’t even know if I should be.

…

I love you. Not, uh, not romantically. I can’t. I don’t. You know. But yeah. You’re – I love you. I just want to say that, before.

I don’t know if the mic can pick it up. Shit, I don’t know if this damn mic is even working. But. I can hear them. Cutting through. It’s definitely – I mean. No assumptions. But it doesn’t sound like our people. And. And it hasn’t been long enough, I don’t think. Not from what I remember seeing on the map before everything went dark.

I’m so scared. I’m so, so scared. Please. Please, just –

 I love you. I love you. I love you. I –

#whumptober2023 #no.7 #radio silence #can you hear me #o-fic #fic #my writing

[prismaticpichu]

Reeeeee I suck and finally got around to tackling a prompt that was giving to me like a month ago xD xD That prompt being Zack & Seph at the beach!!! An amazing idea and I’m so happy to have had the springboard!!

(And a molecule of angst for good measure. The rest is sugar sweet!)

x~x~x~x~x

Sephiroth had to recoil when the sharp, almost acidic smell of seawater knifed against his nose, catlike eyes constricting in adjustment to the shoreline ablaze with sunlit gold. He slid himself out of the passenger seat, a little flimsy, shutting the door behind him.

"So how'd I do?!" He met Zack by the hood of the car, his smile adding even more radiance to the already white-hot scenery.

"Adequate."

"Yes!" Zack pumped a fist in triumph. It was the first time he had steered while Sephiroth navigated instead of vice versa, and he did well, honestly, barring the fact that his lieutenant liked teetering just on the edge of the speed limit. Sephiroth also learned that he suffered from motion sickness when not in control of the wheel (although no emesis, Ifrit bless).

"I cannot believe I am here." Sephiroth kneaded his eyes, struggling to actually digest that yes, someone raised in a jungle-nestled village protested that it was too hot for paperwork and yes, that he had been coaxed into spending the day at the beach.

"Yes you caaan," Zack grinned, psychically, then turned to caper down the hill before Sephiroth's lips could even part. Classic.

He studied the ground at his feet, just where the concrete of the parking lot bled into the sand—which would have absorbed the afternoon sun by now and was undoubtedly scorching. His friend's advice be damned; he was keeping his boots on.

"C'mon, Seph!"

Shaking his head, Sephiroth followed close behind. Zack led them to a spot just a couple yards from the ocean, close enough where the stippling rocks had dispersed into the occasional pebble but far enough so they would be spared when the waves rolled in to lap the shore.

"This good?" Zack blinked, waiting for his buddy to catch up.

Sephiroth drank in their surroundings. "I would have no clue what makes an ideal spot."

"Then just leave it to me: this is good!" Zack wasted no time unfurling his towel, spreading it picnic blanket-style before flopping atop. He patted the space beside him with a smile.

"Then leave to you I will." Sephiroth joined him on the sand, taking an awkward moment to pretzel his legs and surprised to find himself actually sinking into the sand, rocking a bit for equilibrium.

Which earned him a laugh from Zack. "Don't worry, pal, it won't eat ya."

Sephiroth's gaze traveled down in response, looking for an evasion. "Moogle towel?"

"Of course!" Zack chirped. "Had it since I was little. Matched my bedsheets!"

"Which matches your pillows which matches your coffee mug which matches your favorite sleepwear," Sephiroth finished for him, wondering what was Zack's fascination with animals that had balloons sprouting from their heads—which was strange in its own right because Zack once openly admitted his dislike for balloons. They go and explode RIGHT when your guard is down. They're EVIL, Seph. EVIL.

Zack crossed his arms. "You gotta problem with that?"

"As for now, no," Sephiroth said dryly, then an amused smile budded on his lips. It would be alarming if Zack came prepared with something as absurd as a solid blue towel.

"Thought so." Zack brought his arms behind his head. "Because I'd have a lottttaaa things to judge you about. Like. Like—“ Azure eyes scanned his friend, eventually landing on his feet—“ like how you're wearing boots!"

"The sand is hot," Sephiroth justified. "I have no intention of burning myself."

"That's still weird!" Zack shook off his sandal for emphasis. "You don't—OW!"  The boy's face scrunched with a wince, a small yelp escaping as he immediately drew back his foot.

Sephiroth watched on, impassive. "Hot?"

"Just a tad," Zack slid back into his shoe. "Still wouldn't wear boots like a maniac though."

Now it was Sephiroth's turn to chuckle. His gaze drifted towards the heart of the beach, his chest perfectly untethered despite the dozens of people scattered about; the ogles only now came into focus, the bubbly squeals only now audible over the trills and wingbeats of seagulls overhead, stares being drawn like moths to a sun-kissed silver beacon.

He... didn't care. He also knew that no one actually ever came within a ten-foot radius of him. He also knew that hungry eyes who wanted him shirtless would be left starving.

Zack's smile broadened, grateful to see Seph so relaxed. The somber atmosphere he thought would envelop them, had once swallowed Costa Del Sol whole, was as existent as the supposed candy flavor in his toothpaste.

"Thanks for coming, Seph."

Sephiroth returned to his friend. "You pried me from the office... as per usual," he quickly added. He was also certain that, if available, Cadet Strife or his Second Class friend would have been his first choices.

"One, it's Saturday. And two..." Zack swayed his legs, a sheepish look eclipsing him. "It's just that the last time I came here, it was... real lonely. It was supposed to be a vacation—I think. I couldn't relax or anything 'cause it was right smack in the middle of the whole..." He tried his best to keep his words tender, "the whole Genesis thing."

Wistfulness rippled in the emerald eyes. "I see."

He did indeed recall that. At the time, their friendship had been extremely raw, delicate even, like a thin rod flung into the river after Angeal's passing. He hadn't been present during those times, cloistered in his apartment, islanded from reality. He wished he hadn’t been.

"Yeah... but now." Zack's grin revived, lifting his chin where the dourness bled away. "I don't have to be lonely. Never ever."

There was something so visceral about the way Zack said those words, tapping into emotions he felt so genuinely and speaking them with another tongue. What they had experienced was venomous, long, serrated, but it was their experience, and no one could ever take that away. No wonder Zack had felt so lonely despite being surrounded by friends and a loving paramour.

Sephiroth mirrored the smile. "Your feelings are mutual."

His eyes playful, Zack's lips curled into a smirk. "Things are getting too gloomy. Oh! That reminds me!" He sprang to his feet. "I'll be right back! Left something in the car!"

When he returned about a minute later, he was clutching a plastic bucket and plastic shovel, proceeding to sit at the edge of the towel and gouge out heaps of sand.

"...What are you doing?" Sephiroth canted his head, a hint of dubiousness prowling underneath. He had to be vigilant: Zack was much more familiar with the turf than he was, which made it an ideal environment for his... antics.

"Whad'ya think?!" The shovel plunged again.

Sephiroth's silence said it all.

Zack turned around, looking horrified. "A sand castle?"

"..."

"Oh my Shiva, Seph! You don't know what a sand castle is?"

Oh my Shiva, Seph! You don't know what tic-tac-toe is? Oh my Shiva, Seph! You don't know what a silly straw is? Oh my Shiva, Seph! You don't know what Hungry Hungry Elfadunks is???

"I can't say I do." Sephiroth unfolded his legs, trying to understand what about a pail even remotely resembled a castle. "Is this something you conjured up?"

"No!" Zack scraped the residue grains off the rim. "They're something everyone makes!"

"I've never—“

"Everyone with a soul makes." He quickly returned to his masterpiece. "Y'see, you take a bucket, fill it up, then turn it over so it takes the shape or the bucket!" He demonstrated by flipping said bucket over and embedding it into the sand, drumming the concave bottom with a series of pats. Then, making sure Sephiroth was watching—he was—Zack gingerly twisted the pail aloft where a cylindric, buttery structure was left behind. "Ta-dahhh!"

Sephiroth's head was still angled. "It doesn't share any parallels with a castle; it resembles a cup if nothing else." Which made sense, considering the bucket wasn't a castle. It was a bucket.

"I don't make the rules!"

Without warning, Sephiroth glided over to a brick wall lining the western side of the beach—specifically walking towards a barrel full of rental umbrellas. He hoisted the entire bucket in one swift motion, casually returning with the wooden vessel where it was promptly placed beside Zack's sand palace.

"Whatcha doing?"

"I want to try."

So, Sephiroth plunked all the umbrellas aside, lifting the barrel and using it as a makeshift shovel, gradually filling the hollow space with sand until it nearly overflowed. Then, he turned it over, followed Zack's instructions, and produced a structure the size of a beach barrel. All in the span of forty-five seconds by Zack's count.

"Did I do it right?" Sephiroth asked.

Blue eyes widened, impressed and twinkling with awe. "Hey, that's better than mine! No fair!"

Satisfied, Sephiroth returned to his friend and sat down. A few minutes passed, maybe ten, maybe twenty, nearly drifting into peaceful slumber as the tides crashed and veneered the sand in sea foam.

"Hey! Let's go in the water!" Zack suggested then.

Sephiroth was taken aback. Him? Swim? When was the last time he did so without the prompt of a mission? It wasn't even a pool, mind him; it was an ocean slimy with seaweed and riddled with jagged shells prepared to bite him.

"You go ahead," Sephiroth said. "I'll watch."

"No way! It's not fun alone!"

Sephiroth closed his eyes, sighing. "There's a hundred people—“

Then, a cascade pounded over his head, except instead of water it was a gritty assault of sand and instead of falling over him it was billowed right into his face. He opened his eyes, bewildered, but reality sank in not a second later when he found Zack standing in perfect kicking range in front of him. He brushed his bangs aside, pebbly rivers filtering through the strands.

"Welp, guess you gotta wash up now!" Zack shot him a smirk—playful, infuriatingly playful, infuriatingly lovable—and darted out of reach.

Sephiroth narrowed his eyes, green fire igniting as he hounded Zack and his growing look of terror into the crashing waves.

#sephiroth #Zack Fair #puppy Zack #fangirl #fanfic #prompt #crisis core #practicemakesprogress

[bornredheadedme-blog]

Once Upon a Time

One upon a time, I was born, 3rd daughter of three, my parents last attempt to have a son to carry on the family name. They lost. I was the typical youngest, unwilling to accept the status quo and always looking to invent new ways of doing things. I wet my bed until I was about 6.

My mother, in her wisdom, put a pot in my room so if I had to pee in the night, it would hopefully wake me up enough to get up and pee in the pot. My mom had great ideas, but her follow-through was not so great. She never emptied the pot in any reasonable time frame (like daily).

So, one day, being the precocious little one that I was, as the rest of the family was cleaning house, I wanted to do the same, so I got a rag and washed down my dresser, a mirrored old monstrosity, with the contents of the pot in my room. I still shudder to remember this. And I can still remember the smell. Luckily, one of my sisters realized what was happening and stopped me, but not before I had scrubbed the entire top of the dresser.

I can still see my room, with my bed with the metal headboard that was painted to look like mahogany. I remember every time I hit that thing it went off like a gong that could have awakened the household. I am also reminded of the time that my cousins came to stay with us. Their mother, my father's baby sister Annette, had died of cancer, leaving her children behind. I've struggled to learn the time line for this event and still have some questions about this branch of my family.

This is my grandmother and her husband, Joseph with their children, except for my father, who was born between Blanche and Edward. It's also missing 4 of my grandmother's sisters. Of interest to me is Jean Steward (Kinsell), who appears to be my aunt Annette. This woman is buried with my grandmother and Aunt Blanche, but I don't have a clue who she is and there is no one left alive to ask.

What I do know is that she had two children, Loretta and Roger, who lived with us for a short time. I remember the long car ride to pick them up in St Louis, and our car had 2 back seats. They didn't have car seats in those days (apparently children were considered expendable) so I just loved to switch between seats. Of course, my grandma wouldn't allow me to do this without moving with me so I never got to occupy a seat by myself.

I'm often amazed by the memories that I have stuffed inside my head. I would have been around 2 or 3 during this time. Loretta was the older of the two and while I don't remember what she looked like then, her behavior toward me was far more memorable.

My father worked summers at Riverview Amusement Park and they often sold off extra equipment at the end of the season. That year he brought home a stroller. This bright orange monstrosity weighed about 60 pounds and my mother said it was nearly impossible to tip back to go up the curb. So what happened next was surprising.

My sisters and their friends were riding bikes around the block while I sat in my orange stroller. Loretta watched me while they played. My mother said she was tipping my stroller back and right before the tipping point of balance, she would drop the handle, causing the stroller to thump forward and this made baby me laugh. We won't go into the possibility of concussion or neck or back injury.

One moment she was entertaining me and the next, she dropped the stroller backwards, causing me to fall out and hit my head on the bar. I remember the pain, and I remember walking up the front sidewalk and seeing my mother appear in the screen door. Next I remember standing on the lid of the toilet, while my mother held a Kotex pad to my head which was bleeding profusely. I remember being wrapped in a sheet or something similar, and laying in my mother's arms while we waited for my dad to come home from work so he could take us to the hospital to get my head stitched.

Stay tuned for part 2 of this exciting saga.

[imagine-a-life-like-this]

Finding Love (L.F)

Warnings : like one swear word, mentions of divorce, reader doesn’t believe in love

Word Count : 2891

Synopsis : her best friend set her up on 7 dates for a project he called “finding love”, but none of the guys made her heart flutter the way he does. 

“Okay, so there’s just some final questions you have to answer.” I nodded, barely looking at my best friend, thinking about the conversation I had with his professor just a few days prior.

           “I hope Felix’s grade won’t suffer because I didn’t find love with this project.” I told her. “He worked really hard, picking out 7 different guys he thought would compliment me well. And they were all lovely, but Miss, I just don’t believe in love. I tried because I don’t want Felix to fail, but none of them sparked anything in me.”

           “Y/N, Felix’s grade will not suffer just because you didn’t find love, though I don’t think that’s true. Forgive me if I cross a line, but I believe you already found love before this project began, but you’re scared. For you, love has always equaled loss, and this person is someone you could never lose, so you refuse to love them. Think about it for a minute.”

           “Felix is my best friend.” I countered and watched as she smiled.

           “I never said it was him.” I just stared at her, going through her words again. “Think about it, Y/N. Love isn’t as scary as it seems.”

           “Did you enjoy the dates you went on?” I met his eyes, pretending like I was listening the whole time. I nodded and watched as he wrote my answer down. “Let’s go through each of the dates and then continue the rest of the questions.” Again I nodded as Felix set the papers down and focused all his attention on me.

           Chan was the first guy I went on a date with for Felix’s project. He picked me up and I felt comfortable with him as soon as I opened the door. He greeted me with a warm smile and an awkward laugh as he stumbled over his introduction.  

           We ended up at his place, ordering some food and watching dumb romcoms on Netflix. The two of us laughed at the over-the-top cringey moments, and at some point, we fell asleep. I don’t remember falling asleep, I just remember waking up some time later, wrapped up in Chan’s arms with him still asleep.

           It was an enjoyable date, something very lowkey, but there was no spark. It felt more like a hang out than a date.

           “Did you just leave while he was sleeping?” Felix asked with a chuckle.

           “No! Of course not!” I countered, laughing at how ridiculous that would be. “I woke him up and he walked me home.” Felix nodded, urging me to go on.

           Minho was next, and at first he seemed like he’d rather be anywhere else, but he quickly opened up. “I figured since it was a nice day, we could have a picnic.” He told me with a smile as he walked towards the park.

           It was really relaxing. We just sat on the blanket he brought, munching on the food he made while getting to know each other. He told me about his family and his friends, what he was studying, and what he hoped to accomplish in life. If I’m honest, I could listen to Minho talk about his dreams for hours and not get bored.

           When he asked me about myself, it was like I drew a blank. The only stories I could come up with were all about Felix. How we met, how we agreed to attend the same college so we wouldn’t be separated, how he is the only person I’d ever need in my life.

           “You talked about me?”

           “You seem surprised.” I laughed. “You already know you’re my favourite person. Of course I’m going to talk about you.”

           “Look at you being cute.” I felt the heat rise to my cheeks at the compliment, something that didn’t happen with the guys I went on dates with. Sure, they complimented me, and I was flattered, but they didn’t seem to effect me the way Felix does. “Continue!”

           To me, the date with Minho was the most intimate. It’s the one that felt the most like a date. But again, the spark wasn’t there.

           Changbin was the third, and I must say I was surprised. I’ve heard the rumours about him around the school, so when he took me to the planetarium, I was rather surprised. “Felix said you were into astronomy.” I smiled so wide when we got inside and the show began. I spouted off random facts I knew to Changbin who seemed really interested in what I had to say. He listened to every word I said, and even spouted off some of his own facts.

           It was like running into an old friend, someone you haven’t seen in years but missed dearly. We clicked immediately and it felt like finding a safe place. For a minute I wondered if this is what people were talking about when they found their soulmates. But the longer I spent with Changbin, the more I realized that the connection I was feeling was purely platonic, on both ends. He’s definitely someone I see in my future, but only as a friend.

           “Hey, at least we’re getting somewhere!” Felix explained. “For a whole minute you thought he could be it!” I laughed at how excited Felix seemed, but my heart seemed to fall to my stomach. Why was he so focused on me finding love? Why does he seem excited to see if I fell for one of the guys he set me up with? “Keep going! 3 down, 4 to go!” He smiled at me, and I felt butterflies erupt in my stomach. No. No that’s not right. I must have eaten something weird.

           Hyunjin took me to an escape room. I’d always wanted to do one but was always scared. Hyunjin didn’t really give me a choice, telling me I would have loads of fun. So, we went. Unfortunately, he chose one of the hardest rooms they offered, thinking we were smart enough to escape.

           It was fun looking around different rooms, trying to find the clues to escape. He was really easy to work with, and though we didn’t escape, we made it pretty far. We then grabbed some ice cream and just walked around, learning more about each other, and complaining about how difficult the room was. “You know, if I wasn’t so distracted by how pretty you looked, we totally could have escaped!”

           “Oh so you’re saying it’s my fault?” I giggled, taking another bite of my ice cream.

           “It is! But it’s okay, I forgive you.” He smiled as he stole a bite of my ice cream.

           “Yah!” I screamed before quickly stealing a bite from his and sticking my tongue out at him.

           “You’re lucky you’re cute.” We parted ways soon after, but I had a smile on my face the rest of the day. It was really fun and something I wasn’t expecting from these dates.

           “Would you go out with Hyunjin again?” I shook my head and Felix’s wide smile seemed to faulter. “Well moving on then!”

           The date with Jisung was the most cliché, but it was still a lot of fun! We went to the amusement park and spent the day riding all the rides and even trying our hand at the different games. I’m fairly sure I ate my weight in sweets that day, but Jisung didn’t judge, and honestly ate more than I did.

           I was nervous at first, but I was quick to fall out of that and just be myself. Jisung is someone that makes you feel comfortable being whatever kind of person you are.

           As the sun set, we finished the day off on the ferris wheel. Super cliché, but it was really cute how excited he was. So I followed him onto the ferris wheel and took in just how beautiful the amusement park looked at night time, with all the lights on and couples walking around hand in hand.

           He walked me right up to my front door and told me to have a good night. I watched as he walked away out of sight before heading inside. My feet were aching, but I couldn’t stop the smile from forming.

           “Let me guess. Still no spark?”

           “No spark.”

           “Well okay, date number 6!”

           Seungmin took me to the aquarium, and it was so much prettier than I remembered. The last time I was there, my parents took me and my older brother. I remember looking at all the pretty colours, in awe of just how pretty the fish looked.

           This time around, though I was still in awe at how pretty everything was, I was more focused on watching the little kids run around in amazement, wondering if that’s what my brother and I looked like to the adults when we came.

           Seungmin seemed really nervous the whole time, barely saying a word and instead leaving most of the talking up to me. But he didn’t seem annoyed, instead he seemed intrigued by all my stories. He shared a couple of his favourite memories about the aquarium and told me why it was his favourite place. “Let me take a picture of you!” I exclaimed at one point. “To add to your memories at your favourite place.” I think that was the moment I first saw him smile wide. It was so precious, and I would have done almost anything to see it again.

           “Oh so you’ll go to the aquarium with Seungmin but not me!?” Felix pouted and crossed his arms over his chest.

           “Yah! It was your idea that I go on these dates!” He continued to pout. “Okay fine. Let’s go to the aquarium sometime.” He smiled wide, uncrossing his arms and clapping. “You are probably the weirdest person I know.”

           “But you love me!” More than I think both of us realized. “But enough about us, what about date number 7.”

           The date with Jeongin was the most unexpected as he took me to the library. We picked out a book for the other to read, found somewhere secluded to sit, and began to read. At some point, he handed me a headphone, and we listened to music together as we quietly read.

           Every once in a while, he would do or say something that would make me laugh. It’s like he made it his mission to make me laugh as loud as possible and get us kicked out. It worked, by the way. I have no idea what he said, but I couldn’t contain my laughter, and the two of us got kicked out.

           We ended up at a quiet café just down the block and just talked. We talked about the book we were reading, about school, friends, family, past, aspirations for the future. He was the easiest to open up to. He never looked at me with a look of pity, the way others do when they find out my tragic past, and instead made a joke to lighten up the mood.

           I think I spent the longest time with Jeongin. We just kept telling stories and laughing and before we knew it, the barista was coming up to us to tell us they were closing. Neither of us even noticed it was dark out.

           “So it seems like all 7 dates were successful in one way or another.”

           “I suppose you could say that.” His professor’s words kept ringing in my mind. My whole life, I’ve believed love was something just in books and movies. I would see the couples on campus claiming to be in love, just to break up later.

           I watched my parents argue every single day before divorcing. I watched my brother fall head over heels in love with a girl who played with his feelings. A part of me wanted someone to come along and change my views on love. Show me that love can be a beautiful thing. Falling in love was a risk, and I just wanted someone to be worth the risk.

           And as I sat beside my best friend, recounting the seven dates he set me up on, I was hit with the realization that I found my person a long time ago. Felix was the person I turned to when I needed a shoulder to cry on, he was the first person I wanted to tell all good news to. When I pictured my future, he’s right there beside me.

           He was right in front of me this entire time, and I just refused to believe it. As much as I hate to admit it, his professor was right. To me, love has always equaled loss. You love someone, you lose them. Felix is the only person in my life I couldn’t lose. It would be like losing a piece of me.

           “So out of the seven of them, is there someone you’d consider going out with again?” Felix picked up his papers he previously set down on the table, no longer looking at me.

           “No.” I answered simply, completely coming to terms with the fact that I’m in love with my best friend. “They’re great guys, but I think I know someone better.” I smiled, looking down at my hands clasped in my lap.

           “You do?” Suddenly, the project he’s been working so hard on was forgotten. He looked at me, and I looked right back, admiring his soft features. I guess a part of me always knew he was the one for me, it was just waiting for the rest of me to catch up.

           “I do.” I responded, my voice barely above a whisper. “He’s the best person I know. And honestly, he’s the only person I’d consider going on a second date with.”

           “Did you go on a date I didn’t know of?” He asked, looking through all of his notes, trying to see if maybe he had missed something. Maybe he had set you up with 8 people but forgot. But there was only one name in his notes that could be a possible 8th date. A name he wrote down in case one of the others turned down this experiment. A name surrounded by question marks; his own.

           “Why is your name written down?” I asked, pointing at the notes he was looking through. “I think I’d remember going on a date with you.” I giggled, looking up at him.

           “Oh, I was just a back up. In case one of the others fell through.” I nodded, coming to that conclusion myself. But the thought of going on a date with him gave me butterflies.

           “I think for the sake of the experiment, you should see if you could be the one to prove me wrong.” He stared at me with wide eyes, obviously wondering what was going through my head. “I mean, you do know me the best. I think if you tried you could win me over.”

           “The project specifically said 7, Y/N.” I slumped back in my seat.

           “Unfortunate. Well I guess we could go on a date just because.”

           “What?” I let out a small laugh at his bewildered expression before sitting up in my seat, leaning closer to him.

           “I’m asking you out.” The words didn’t seem to register in his brain, so I continued. “I talked to your professor, and she opened my eyes. She told me that for me, love always equaled loss, so I never let myself fall in love, especially with you. Because, you’re the one person I can’t lose.” I watched as his expression changed as the words registered.

           “Are you confessing to me right now?” I chuckled as I nodded.

           “Yeah I am. I’m confessing to you right now, Felix.”

           “Holy shit.” I couldn’t help but let out another laugh. “So you’re telling me that you went on seven different dates with the seven biggest heartthrobs of our school, but you’re in love with me?” I nodded, my confidence slowly fading the longer this conversation continues. Honestly, I’m not sure why I confessed. There’s never been a moment in our years of friendship where I thought Felix could have feelings for me. There was just a part of me screaming to let him know, to confess. “Forget the project, I’m taking you out right now.” He said while throwing his papers over his shoulder.

           “Felix!” I exclaimed while laughing, looking at him now standing.

           “What? I’ve been waiting years for this! The project can wait. Right now, I’m taking the love of my life out on our first date.” I couldn’t help the smile that formed as I took his hand. His project was long forgotten as the two of us went out and did all the things we did as friends, but now there was more hand holding and a lot more kisses.

           Love isn’t as scary as it seems. With the right person, love is beautiful. And though Y/N didn’t find love with the 7 boys I set her up with, she found love. A love that at first terrified her but made her happy at the same time. Falling in love is a risk, but it’s a risk she’s finally willing to take. And as the person she fell in love with, I hereby promise to never make her regret taking that risk.

#stray kids imagine #stray kids au #skz imagine #skz au #lee felix imagine #lee felix au #lee felix x reader #lee felix #kim seungmin #yang jeongin #bang chan #lee minho #seo changbin #hwang hyunjin #han jisung

[lemonhobgoblin]

Softer than the Summer Night

Mothman X (gender neutral) Reader

Length: 2k

Genre: Slight NSFW & Fluff

___________________________________________________

"Stay don't move please," you wearily voiced into the dark.

When you spoke it worsened the strain you were feeling, your face contorted in discomfort. Even the thought of being moved was enough to get you squirming and whining. On your aching knees, hunched over, knuckles turning lighter in color, and eyes fixed ahead.

The sounds of the city outside your home were overshadowed by your ragged breath. All you could hear was breath and beating heart. You couldn't endure this any longer. You knew you couldn’t stay like this forever. You desperately wanted to move and finish what you started, and backing out now was far from being a feasible option.

"Fuck." Feeling a slight slip up on the other end. You physically couldn't take much more of this.

Your grip on the material you had bunched in your hands was loosening, and your reign on things was beginning to drastically falter.

"O fuck me" you breathed out frustrated, resting your head against a wooden frame. You could feel yourself getting tuckered out from this ordeal, feeling yourself becoming flushed with a light layer of sweat coating your skin. This was a good time as any now and fully let go. Knees and thighs sore from holding your still form, you began to move, releasing yourself of this hold.

"Ahhhh," you moaned out, watching in disbelief as the blanket slipped off the chair. Frustrated you threw yourself back onto the cool floor. You wasted your time doing that for nothing.

Heated at how the fabric refused to stay in place no matter how much you adjusted it. You flopped onto the hard floor to cool down. The cool ground felt refreshing on your steamy body. You didn't even want to look at it at the fort at the moment. Knowing you would just give up if you tried again immediately. You decided to rest your eyes and give yourself some time to collect yourself. Giving yourself some time before getting back to work on it.

Why wouldn’t it stay when you wanted it to stay.

Perhaps you should've just waited for your partner to bring you the supplies and figure out what to do from there. Of course, you being you, you got a little impatient eager.

It wasn’t a minute till you felt a presence hovering over you- watching.

Cracking open your eyes, you saw standing over you was a large humanoid moth-like creature looking down upon your disheveled form. Holding a batch of items in his arms, curiously staring at you. Tilting his head, confused as to why you were on the floor and.. sweaty?

"Hey, you grabbed the stuff I asked for?" You asked. Not wanting to get into the details as to why you were down on the ground defeated.

He nodded.

"Cool, well just give me a minute more. I'm almost done here. I still need to fix some things." Launching yourself back into a sitting position, getting back to work on keeping the blanket in place, only for it to slip off the wooden dining chair again.

Groaning over the fact that you were making a fool of yourself- especially in front of Mothman. He shouldn’t have to see in all your shame. Meantime, Mothman was just standing there completely unaware of what's going on still, but content to be part of it.

Internally wallowing to yourself, unsure whether you should continue or throw yourself into your half-done structure and call it a night.

Then it hit you.

Recalling that you asked for Mothman to bring duct tape. Looking back, scanning through the items within his arms. You successfully spotted the tape that was cradled within his right arm.

"Can you pass me that duct tape in your arms?" you pointed.

"No, not that"

"it's right there. That's not it."

Redirecting him and pointing out what you wanted, only to end up playing a guessing game. Sifting through each item, and saying no to everything he held out. How he was able to get the supplies you asked for? You'll never know.

After the first ten items, Mothman dropped all the material onto the floor with a thud. Thinking it would be easier to get what you wanted. Unsurprised, you stared at the pile straight lip. “No problem that is just as effective."

Crawling to the pile in the middle living room of your home, to grab the roll of tape.

What started as a calm night alone, became a little date night-with Mothman coming over uninvited. This wasn't uncommon he did this quite often, but you never turned him down always glad to welcome him in. That and also the fact you didn't want a seven-foot monster outside your window scratching at your window like a stray cat begging to be let in and draw attention to himself.

Bringing you up to speed now, putting together a fort. Clearly, rusty, it's been some time since you made a blanket fort. It wasn't your fault, you were always busy to do anything like this. Even if you did have the time, it just never occurred to you to do so after a long day of work. Usually, the closest thing to this, is you grabbing a throw blanket and pillow onto the floor with maybe some plushies and calling it a day.

But with Mothman in the picture, you had to get creative with things to do at home. Meaning you coming up with indoor activities and not go out in public at all. So no causal stroll by the park, or popping into a nice establishment and chat. As amusing it would be going out, you couldn’t do that for Mothman’s safety and especially those around. Leaving you both to see each other deep in the wilderness at night, in the abandoned TNT facility where the Cryptid resided and here in your home.

And you both managed to keep each other occupied- getting into ridiculous shenanigans. There wasn’t a day you were bored of one another’s company, even when you both had nothing to do. It was always a good time. And today was any different.

Tapping down the blanket against stile of the chair and now the moment of truth. Removing your hands and...

It didn’t move. It stayed.

“Finally!” throwing your arms up in triumph. Behind you, Mothman watched your mini victory pose. Unsure what you were doing with your arms in the air he mimicked your gesture.

“Alright, just a few more things.” Walking back to the heap on the ground, pushing and gathering all of it into the fort to do some final touch-ups. Leaving Mothman to awkwardly put his arms down as you disappeared inside.

Decorating and organizing the interior of the fort, striving to make it as pleasant and comfy as possible. Knowing that Mothman probably hasn't experienced this before. You wanted this to be perfect. Well as perfect as you could, given that you already used tape.

Amid you’re scrambling, a curious and impatient Mothman wanted a quick glimpse, to get a clue to what you were doing. He figured it was shelter, but why make another within your home.

As quiet as he could, he tried to lower himself onto all fours - to sneakily get a peek inside. Unfortunately, due to his large stature mixed with the old floorboard, you were alerted of him snooping by the sound of squeaky floorboards.

“Not yet." You said, popping, catching him off guard, in the act.

Surprised he just looked down, pretending he was looking at something interesting. Squinting your eyes, you went back inside.

Once you were back inside, he was back to his antics, and once more you heard his attempt. "Not yet" you reminded, poking out once more before going back in.

Of course, that didn't stop. He tried his hand again and you knew him too well, you were quick to scold him from inside without having to peer out.

Startled, his antennas and the fur on his body puffed out. How do you see him? Looking around to see if you were behind him or somewhere else in the room. Are you still in there? A valid reason for him to look inside now, he chirped eagerly. “Nice, try. I’m still in here and you can’t come in yet,” you announced.

Defeated, he deflated and resigned himself to sitting on the floor picking at the rug. Fortunately, he didn't have too long.

"Okay, you can come in" you called out.

You were content with the work you did both inside and out; well mostly inside. A couple of plush blankets laid on the ground with pillows lined against the walls of the interior and little something extra strung around. But there was still a good amount of space, that even Mothman could probably fit inside. Reaching for the electric lantern, to illuminate the area. You heard shuffling behind you- figuring it was the Cryptid making himself comfortable.

Lantern in hand you turned right around, the light flicking on, and was greeted with misjudgment.

Guess not you thought.

Seated smack dab in the middle, Mothman had unceremoniously become a support beam for the structure. His head pitching up the sinking portion of the blanket up. Clearly, this wasn’t large enough.

"I thought this would be big enough." You huffed to yourself.

You felt positive this was big enough, thinking to yourself - trying to see how you could fix this. Whereas Mothman just did his own thing and took matters into his own hands.

"Maybe if you-“You trailed off, watching him crawl further inside before rolling onto his back, laying his head against a pillow you set near the walls of the fort - stretching his legs across the entire interior and his feet simply hanging out from the entrance. “Or that. That's fine too."

Inching closer to him, you noted his pleasant demeanor, his chest rising steadily as he breathed in deeply, his fur ruffling up and flattening back as he exhaled. His limbs going completely slack, his muscles loosened. He was completely at ease.

“Comfy?” you teased.

He chirped in response.

"Well, I'm about to up the ante," you crawled over across his torso, reaching for a switch just near him.

"1,2,3" with a click, the interior light up with a soft warm golden glow of fairy lights strewn about all over. Though it may be cheap lighting, its beautifully sparkling bulbs filled the area with a warm, cozy atmosphere as well giving you a sense of awe just as it did for Mothman.

"Do you like it?" You asked.

Sitting up with wide eyes, Mothman gazed on with the utmost sense of wonder, transfixed on the lights and nothing else. As if he was in a world of his own. This wasn’t anything new, honestly, this was one of the first things you noticed when you first met him. And you’ve seen his habit time and time again. But you could never grow tired of it. It was quite adorable.

"I’m assuming so.” You chuckled.

Your laugh snaked its way into his enraptured mind, knocking him out of his trance. He stared at you, nearly forgetting you were there. As luminous and beautiful as the light was, there was something missing.

It didn't take long for you to catch Mothman's sudden change in behavior-still as statue and eyes locked on you.

"Mothman?"

Without giving you a chance to ask, he moved toward you, lifting you from your spot like some common house cat with ease; body slack and no resistance. He placed you right in his lap, before laying back with you laying on top of him-your back against his chest.

This was a surprise but not an unwelcome one. You shifted into a more comfortable position, Flipping over onto your stomach, propping your head up with one hand while the other lightly stroke at his chest- you peered down at him. "Better?"

Mothman sunk further in his spot, completely in bliss, and if that wasn't proof enough Mothman purred even louder in pure content. Now it was perfect. Wrapping his arms around you, hugging you closer to him-making you rest your head on him. You smiled, digging your head further into his plush chest.

He finally realized what you made, it was a nest for the both of you. Thats why you were so eager to make this. He couldn't wait to put this fort to good use. But seeing how hard you work on this, he could only guess how tired you were after put this together. So he'll let you rest.

The strong vibration from his purring perforated through your body. Whatever tension or stress you had melted away. It was enough to slowly lull into a nice slumber.

Well there go your movie plans in here. But that was okay because this was better.

Together you both laid there in silence. The beat of his heart keeping in rhythm with yours along with the ambiance of the city outside your home. The feeling of his chest rising and falling with you. Sheltered under a flimsy but cushiony fort. You eventually succumbing to sleep while Mothman stayed up to keep watch - enjoying whatever time he had left with you till heading out before dawn. Until the next night, when you could see each other again. So for now, you both held each other in each other's arms on this soft summer night.

............

A/N: Thanks for Reading!! <3

#mothman #cryptids #mothman x reader #Mothman x reader insert #Mothman imagine #Mothman fic #exophilia #monster #creature #monster romance #monster lover #tw monsterfucking #monster fucker #monster fic #monster x human #Mothman x human #tetraphilia

[wearywinchester]

Something Old and Something New — Part One

Mechanic!Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: When life takes a turn and you take an unexpected break from college in Stanford with your best friend Sam, you return home to your job at your family’s co-owned garage. You return home to work alongside the guy you thought you hated—Dean Winchester.

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: mild angst, mentions of death, mild swearing, fluff

A/N: Part one to my mechanic!Dean series!

Kansas.

It’s always been home to you no matter what, even if your time was split between here on summer break and the apartment you shared with Sam while the two of you went to school together. It was somewhere that never changed despite your ever changing life, and that was something you felt you needed amidst everything swirling through your mind as of the last six months. A place that was always there to welcome you back home with open arms no matter how few and far between your stays back there were. It was home and it was familiar.

You sighed as you looked out of the car window, gaze focused on just about everything you could see ever since you landed at the airport just barely half an hour earlier. You had to admit you were happy to be home for more than just a short period of time, you missed it here. But you wished it were under better circumstances.

Sam was still back at Stanford surely with his nose stuck in a book far too thick for you to think about without giving yourself a headache, and while the thought made you smile, you couldn’t help the nagging feeling knowing you should be there too. You were nearing the tail end of your time in law school, having had one year left before you’re expected to graduate and get your degree, though you were feeling a little less excited than you think you should be. You were home instead of over there after all.

“For itchin’ to be back home, you sure don’t look like it,” Benny chuckled from the driver’s seat, glancing at you as your lips pursed and your brow quirks up. He nudges you with his elbow to accompany his words, his amusement only increasing at your grumpy expression.

Benny.

He was your parents best friend for as long as you can remember, the closest thing you’ve got to family since your parents passed away a few years back. He was an uncle to you just as much as Bobby Singer was to Sam and Dean, and you knew you wouldn’t trade him for the world. Even when he’s giving you a hard time like in that very moment.

“I wasn’t exactly planning on taking this kind of a break either, Benny,” you huff, shifting in your seat. You turned your head at the quiet sound of his laugh, your gaze narrowing. “‘S not funny.”

“You’re right, it’s not. But that pout you got goin’ on is.”

When he looks at you once more it takes all but a few seconds for you to turn your head and look away, eyes rolling as you bite the inside of your cheek to stifle your smile. You shake your head, knowing it’s no use to even try.

But it’s true, you weren’t expecting to take this kind of a break this far into college because you weren’t expecting to fall out of love with your choice in a career. You made it this far—you were twenty-four and on the brink of becoming a lawyer along with your best friend Sam. But somewhere between here and there you found yourself mulling over the possibility that maybe you didn’t quite like this kind of job as much as you initially thought. You chalked it up to burnout at first, a reasonable assumption, but after returning back from summer break last year feeling less than refreshed and ready to start the new year of studies, you weren’t feeling that same spark.

You were beginning to feel like that profession wasn’t quite the right fit for you, and that was when you decided to come home.

“You’ll figure it out, you know. You always do, Y/n/n,” he says after a little while.

The smile his words pull from you is more bittersweet than anything, because you felt so far from figuring it out that it was near laughable. If you weren’t going to be a lawyer, and you were entertaining the thought more and more every minute, you didn’t have a single clue as to what you’d do with your life. Going into the family business wasn’t exactly an ideal option—you knew your way around a car but you don’t think you could spend day in and day out being a receptionist forever either. You enjoyed what you did at the garage when you work, but you wanted to do more.

You knew that, you just didn’t know what.

“Sam doesn’t even know why I’m taking a break, that’s how ‘figured out’ I have this whole thing. He thinks it’s just ‘cause I miss home,” you say with a sigh, slumping back in your seat.

“You don’t miss home?” He asks, humor in his tone as he raises a brow in faux offense.

You flash him a half annoyed glance, lips pursed only momentarily. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

Your frown has him smiling all the more as you sulk, your mood only fueling his good one because that’s just how Benny Lafitte is. Not that he likes seeing you in misery, he just sees that everything will work out in time, even if you don’t.

“C’mon, Y/n, lighten up a little, kid!” He says, as upbeat as he can be as he gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze. You roll your eyes and smile a little more. “There’s that smile.”

You shake your head as a laugh falls from your lips, huffing out another sigh as you look at him. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“Is there any other way to be?”

You let out an amused huff then, feeling just a little bit lighter than you had when your plane first landed, though the tension in the very pit of your stomach still remained tightly coiled in its ever present knot.

There was a lot for you to think about in the time that you had here, your mind always wandering back to how you’d tell Sam. He loved it there and it was clear to see that, it was clear to see he fit the job and was leaps and bounds more enthusiastic about it than you. You thought about the extra studying you’d have to do if you decide to go back, and the studying you should probably keep doing if you want to be consistent and retain what you’ve learned. But the mere thought itself was something that made your head spin, something that made you even more content with the idea to leave that behind and stay here.

Surely Sam would understand it.

It wasn’t more than five minutes before Benny pulled his truck into the parking lot of the garage, the one you’ve been to a million times over by now. It was just the same as you left it last—a little rough around the edges but it was like a home away from home and you’d never think otherwise.

“Dean’s real excited to see you,” he jests, nudging your arm. His laughter is immediate at the sight of your expression, a scoff leaving your lips.

“I’ll bet he is,” you mumble, unbuckling your seatbelt.

“I thought you two grew out of that phase by now.”

“Who said it’s a phase, Benny?” You smile.

Dean Winchester.

The one who stepped on the backs of your shoes as a kid, the one who took the last slice of pie and still will without a beat of hesitation. The one you stole flannels from as teens, especially the ones he wore most often just to hear him shout and complain when they’d gone missing. It was a habit that led you to find the stash of candy bars he’d kept hidden in his closet, snagging them not so discreetly only for him to turn around and get you right back.

The two of you strived to get on each other’s nerves and it showed to just about anyone who had the pleasure of spending so much as five minutes with the two of you in the same room. You bickered even on the best of days, always a constant string of eye rolls and curses mumbled under the others breath in complaint. He was just as stubborn as you, and maybe, just maybe have you met your match.

You hopped out of the truck and closed the door, smoothing your hands over your jeans. You squinted as you looked upward, laughing softly. “You still haven’t fixed the sign?”

The ‘s’ that was supposed to be upright at the end of ‘repairs’ had been dangling crookedly since the last time you were here, looking comical and out of place with the rest of the sign but you can’t say you were surprised that it looked the very same.

“What do you mean still? It hasn’t even been that long,” he defended, scratching his head as he bit back his grin.

“Benny, I was here eight months ago and it looks exactly the same,” you say, brow raised as you squint at him with an amused smile.

When he does nothing but shrug his shoulders and hope you take his smile as a peace offering, you simply shake your head and laugh, pulling open the front door and walking inside.

The familiarity hit you once you walked in, the slightly crammed and cluttered place smelling a little bit like gasoline and a lot like the lunch everyone had on the collective lunch break. The radio in the corner was playing classic rock, the station never having changed from it unless you wanted to get on Dean’s nerves a little bit and switch it to some pop music he swore he absolutely dreaded. You knew better than to believe that when you caught him singing some lyrics under his breath as he worked on Baby after hours.

You leaned over the counter, the desk you called your very own and your pictures were still there, little knick knacks still in there place but everything was just a little bit grease smudged from one of the guys taking up reception.

“Look who’s back in town.”

You stilled, gaze shifting upwards in an eye roll as a huff exhales through your nose. You knew that voice anywhere, it was impossible not to. It was the voice of the very one who strived to get on your nerves with nearly every word he spoke because that’s just how he is.

Dean.

You spun on your heel and met his gaze, the irritated expression you’d held for the older Winchester faltering for just a moment at the very sight of him standing before you before it quickly returned with just a little less annoyance than it once had. The smirk he wore was enough to do just that, a bit of grease smeared across his cheek with some matching stains on his shirt.

“Deanie,” you greet, his expression fading in favor of a more hardened one at the nickname you knew he hated.

It didn’t last very long, the very corners up his mouth quirking upwards in a way that was all too telling that he was undoubtedly up to something. You knew him by now yet you were still too caught up with something about him to realize it before it was too late.

“Y’miss me, sweetheart?” He asks, tugging you in close for a hug. He gave you a squeeze just to hear you whine an fuss over the fact that he’d been sweaty from the heat of working all afternoon, that and the grease that most definitely was getting all over you.

“Dean,” you grumble, shoving at his shoulders halfheartedly, “get off!”

He let go with a chuckle, his head tipping back in a louder bout of laughter at the sight of the grease having smeared on your cheek and the frown on your lips. Fighting your smile was harder than you cared to admit in that moment, and you hated the way that maybe you missed the feel of his arms wrapped around you once he let go of his embrace. You shook your head partly in a bit of annoyance and partly to shake those thoughts away, arms having been crossed over your chest when he looked at you.

“You got a little somethin’ on your face.” He licks the pad of his thumb and reaches forward teasingly to wipe it off, your hand pushing his away.

“What’s the matter, law school too boring for you now?” He jests lightheartedly, slinging the rag in his hand up to rest on his shoulder.

You roll your eyes in response as you look away briefly. That’s when he saw a flicker of something different cross your expression for a mere moment, something he knows is more than just a little bit of annoyance. He knows you a bit better than you realize. It’s different but you quickly mask it with a smirk of your own and he thinks nothing more of it.

“Don’t you have a car to fix?”

“Don’t you have a textbook to read?”

You scrunch up your nose and he scrunches his, and you’re seconds from snagging the rag off his shoulder before the phone rings. You round the desk as he leans his elbows on the counter. He’s got a smirk on his lips as you shoo him away, more adamant the more the phone rings as he reaches over and snags a piece of candy from the jar you always kept. Your glare is one that he basks in as he pops the candy in his mouth.

“Winchester and Lafitte Automotive Repairs, this is Y/n speaking,” you say as you answer the phone, missing the way he smiles to himself and shakes his head as he walks away.

—

You sighed as the old clock on the wall behind your desk strikes seven o’clock, the last customer of the day having just picked up their car to take home. The stuffy heat had cooled off some now the the sun was beginning to dip lower in the sky now that evening rolled around, the fan set up in the corner helping just a little bit. Everything was cast in a golden orange hue as the sunlight streamed in, carrying with it the shadows of the pine trees standing tall on the other side of the road.

Your work day was cut a few hours shorter than it usually was since your arrival earlier that afternoon, but you were still just as tired, body fatigued from traveling. You were more than grateful that most of your stuff was already in your apartment here, the only things you’d brought having been your clothes and things you’d miss if you left it back at your place you shared with Sam.

“This place never runs quite as good without you, you know,” Benny says, nudging your shoulder as he passes behind you to snag his keys from the hook.

You smiled at his words, nodding softly as the sentiment brightened your mood a little bit more. “You ready to go?”

You stood from your chair and pushed it in as you stretched, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. The look on Benny’s face when he’d turned around to face you was one that had you curious, cautious at that. It was apologetic and amused all in one, something that was far too indicative that what he was about to say was something you didn’t want to hear.

“Don’t be mad, but—”

You tilt your head and your expression falls neutral as your lips purse. “Why do I feel like I’m going to be mad?”

He started to pass you and round the corner, almost as if to dodge a bullet, said bullet being just about anything you could throw before he spoke up.

“I can’t take you back home, so…” he takes note of your souring mood and he holds a finger up as you walk out from behind the counter with crossed arms. “So, Dean’s gonna drive you home. I already put your bags in his car earlier.”

“You what?”

The two words were doubly shocked and equally displeased as you and the green eyed Winchester spoke them at the same time. When you turned you saw him wiping his hands on a rag before tossing it to the side, his brows furrowed.

“Do me a favor and try not to kill each other,” Benny smiled, one that was far too innocent for his own good because you knew for a fact he’d done it on purpose.

But he said nothing more as he tossed Dean his keys, kissing the top of your head before he slipped out the front door. You turned to look at Dean who’d looked at you, a mirrored look of pursed lips and furrowed brows shared between you two as silence engulfed the place for just a few moments.

“I call radio,” you say, his brow raising when you head towards the door.

“Like hell you do,” he calls after you.

You were lucky it was only a ten minute drive to get there, the tension thick as you got in the car. He turned the radio up with a sly smile and a laugh at your glare, dodging your swat to his shoulder.

“Do you listen to anything other than the same five songs, Dean?” You huff, elbow on the door as you rest your head on your hand.

“Not a chance, sweetheart,” he says, tapping the steering wheel as he pulls out of the gravel parking lot, engine revving as he sped down the road.

You look over at him to see the content smile sitting pretty on his lips, his arm resting on the edge of the open window as his hand settled at the very top of the door, the other rested loosely on the wheel. That very same Zepplin song was playing on the radio that you were convinced he listens to daily, in fact, you knew he did because that’s how Dean is.

“What?” He asks, amused curiosity in his tone.

“Nothing,” you say as you look away, biting the inside of your cheek.

“The hot shot lawyer’s got nothin’ to say, I’m shocked,” he says, faux surprise coating his tone.

“Will you cool it with the lawyer talk?” You huff, staving off the anger in your words with a soft shove to his shoulder.

To be fair, he didn’t know just why it was that you were back here earlier than you should be, he was just yanking your chain like he always did. But it became abundantly clear to him that there was more to it than just a little annoyance. That, paired with the look on your face earlier made it all the more clear for him to see that.

He looked over at you with furrowed brows, the dimples by the corners of his mouth appearing as he looked at you briefly before turning his attention back to the road. He may have cracked jokes and got on your nerves just as much as you did the same to him, but he knew you more than you realized, knew when something was more than just a joke to you. You’ve got this frown that you don’t even know you have, and you bite your lip. He even notices that you tap your foot too—he noticed the little things but he won’t admit it.

His jaw clenched as he turned the radio down a little, speeding up a bit more down the open road.

You’re quick to get out when you arrive at your apartment. It was a nice little place, a house rather, one split right down the middle. You’ve got the right side and Mrs. Allen’s got the left, a sweet older lady that’s lived there far longer than you. She makes a point to tell you you’re her favorite neighbor, and she makes a point to say something about you and Dean every time she sees him that makes your eyes roll.

You knew for a fact she’d say something in the morning.

You snagged one of your bags from the trunk and he grabbed the other, slinging it over his shoulder.

“You don’t have to carry my stuff, you know. I can do it myself,” you say, but you make no effort to grab it from him.

“I know you can.”

You sigh as you fish your keys from your pocket as you continue on up the walkway and up the steps of your porch, sticking them in the door. You drop your stuff down just inside the door with a sigh, grabbing the bag from his outstretched hand before you step inside and turn the front light on.

He stuffs his hands in his pockets, shifting on his feet as the words sit on the tip of his tongue. The very words he’s been thinking about since you’d gotten upset in the car even if you wouldn’t dare to admit it.

“Good night, Dean,” you say, offering a half smile as you go to close the door.

His palm presses to the door almost before you move to close it, and he steps forward a step or two. Your brows furrow as you lean against the doorframe, watching as his mouth opens and closes a few times, and he’s lost for words for a few moments. You don’t push and you don’t pry as you stand there curiously, arms having been crossed over your chest.

“I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings,” he starts, hesitant and a bit quieter as he scratches the back of his neck and clears his throat. “In the car, I mean.”

You stand there, and it takes a beating silence before he meets your gaze. The sincerity in his voice isn’t something you hear all too often in your direction, having always been jokes and witty sarcasm painted over his words but this, this was a little different.

“S’okay,” you say, pushing yourself off the doorframe.

He smiles then, a soft chuckle leaving his lips as he nods. “I’ll uh, I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

You nod at his words, the corner of your mouth tugging upwards. “Good night, Winchester.”

You let out the breath you’d been holding when you closed the door, back pressing to it as you tip your head back. The day you had left you more than tired, thoughts running wild with no end in sight. But the day wasn’t half bad, not really. The two of you had gotten on each other’s nerves every moment you get to do so, but maybe you missed him a little bit more than you thought. Maybe through the layers of wit and remarks there was a little part of you that missed the green eyed Winchester but you’d never admit it.

Unbeknownst to you, maybe he did too.

The rumble of his engine was clear as he pulled away and drove down the street, a huff leaving your lips as you rub your face as you lock the door behind you for the night.

—

Series taglist: @myloversgone @dean-is-sams-apple-pie

General taglist: @flamencodiva @stixnstripesworld @dean-is-sams-apple-pie @elegantbutedgy @humanmistakes @agalliasi @campingmonkey

#dean winchester #dean winchester series #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester x you #dean winchester angst

[minniepetals]

nightlight

— summary: things have never been easy for you but you never expected it’d be them that would make things easier

— pairing: bts x reader

— genre: angst, fluff, mafia!au, gangsters!bts, rich!reader

— word count: 7.7k

— warnings: (triggering topics!) reader is sold to bangtan, dysfunctional family, allusions to an abusive father/husband, harassment, reader has a tough life growing up, guns, violence, jungkook calls her a whore (but apologizes), mentions of death, minor character death, insomniac!reader, nightmares, hurt and comfort

— rec music: finding hope - nightlight

Starlight star bright.

Fallen stars shooting in your dreams.

A wish, a hope. A prayer to escape from the world. From responsibilities and from the sacrifices that keeps you trapped in these chains of yours. 

You keep yourself from feigning a smile, knowing it means nothing, knowing there is no reason to fake anything when the rest of the world is already doing the job.

Your father doesn't love you.

If he does, he wouldn't have thrown you out of his life when things got too hard, too difficult because he messed with the wrong man.

The same man whom you kneel in front of. The same man who takes your face in his hands, gentler than your father can ever, and gives you a blank look when you meet his gaze.

Call it sickening but his eyes look quite lovely.

Beautiful even.

Maybe that is why you don't flinch away when he holds a sinister smirk. Or perhaps you had already gotten used to your father's actions and now he's the only one that can ever make you feel afraid.

That's why you can't be afraid of the mafia boss.

Because even though he kills, he doesn't hurt you.

Maybe not yet, maybe you're still expecting it, but his hands never hangs in the air, hoping to swipe it right across your face.

"Why do you always stay awake?"

You turn around from the window, catching the gaze of one of his most trusted men.

Park Jimin leans against the door to your supposed room, the moonlight illuminating his pretty face. He has an arched brow, pillow lips pressed together, arms crossed against his chest.

"Is the room not to your pleasing?" He asks you. A soft yet hard tone. "Do you need a bigger room, princess?"

He mocks you. The daughter of a businessman who should have known the consequences to his actions and now his business is at stake, with his daughter in the hands of one of the darkest gangs.

He played with the wrong card and these men will never let you forget it.

Yet you remain calm as you shake your head lightly. Sincerely. "I am thankful for this room," you tell him.

"Then sleep."

As if it is easy.

As if it had always been easy.

"I...will try," you promise him, not brave to go up against him or make excuses. He is scary but not as scary as your father.

You wonder what your father is doing right now. Is he sleeping? Living a better life now that you are gone?

You wonder if your mother is alright.

But then again, she's escaped him so perhaps she is indeed living a life far better than when she lived with the two of you.

"Trying is not hard enough," Jimin says and your gaze falls to the floor.

"I'm sorry."

Jimin scoffs. "Sorry?" He repeats. "For what? Not sleeping?"

"Yes," you hum softly, "and for being here."

"Not really your choice now is it?" He steps away from the door, arms uncrossing. "You've got to be braver than this, princess." The name is lighter. "There's no need to apologize for something you had no control over."

"Still, I.." you watch your hands hold each other, gripping against one another tightly, "I'm sorry for what he's done."

"That should be his words, baby, not yours."

You hear the door click closed and his footsteps echoing away.

.

.

"You know how to treat wounds?"

Hoseok stares at the concentrated look on your face, lips pursed, eyes barely blinking one bit as your fingers work their ways stitching him up.

"I've often had to do this," you tell him and it's a bit of surprise. "My father..gets in trouble many times."

He raises a brow. "He's messed with other gangs?"

"I have no clue on the backgrounds. He doesn't tell me and I am in no position to ask."

"You're his daughter."

You don't reply, just keeping quiet.

But he sees you blink, sees the slight hesitation in your hands, how your eyes just stares blankly for a brief moment before returning to focus.

You try to hide it but he knows there's something going on that isn't right.

He shouldn't be surprised. Your father is the one who offered Namjoon to take you in the first place and they allowed it only because they believed you were someone worthy to your father.

But it looks like that isn't the likely story.

He's tricked them, so maybe this should be the moment when he lets the rest know to kick you out.

You're not a pawn anymore at this point.

But he doesn't understand why he doesn't feel like making a move.

.

.

The halls of the mansion is dark and empty even when it is daylight so you can never really come to understand how much time has passed until you return to your room, tired and drowsy and check the windows.

It is usually dark by the time you come back from your duties of cleaning and cleaning but even then you can't fall asleep.

Some days are harder than the rest but it's better.

Better than playing your father's puppet in the media as the world's perfect daughter.

"Why don't you ever complain?"

You look up from scrubbing the floors, holding your forearm against your forehead to wipe the sweat.

Yoongi stands in front of you, dirty shoes on so you know you'll have to redo the floors all over again. Yet surprisingly to him, you show no sign of distress.

"You seemed to be living the perfect life as a rich man's daughter," he scoffs, "not that he's rich anymore. So why aren't you saying anything?"

You remain quiet for a moment and usually he'll hurt the ones who hesitates to answer him right away but to your surprise, he does nothing but wait for you.

"It's fake," you whisper.

His brows crease.

"The perfect life," you answer the unspoken question. "It's not perfect, as you can see."

"Oh?" A brow arches and he sounds a little amused. "I thought he was just desperate."

"He is," you say, "desperate to throw me away."

"Well," Yoongi begins to turn away, his steps walking off, "this just got a little more interesting."

You return to your duties, choosing to ignore what he means because you're sure he will not speak his mind if you ask.

You're afraid to ask. .

.

The library is more difficult to clean because it is so big but you enjoy yourself there more than most rooms.

Mostly because you get to take a moment to read a few things. No one comes in anyways, which brings out the question as to why waste a whole room filled with books when everything is dusty, as if no one has ever touched a thing.

"A-hem."

Your breath hitches at the sound and you're quick to get back on your feet, book slammed closed and placed right back into its slot.

The boss raises his brow. "Mythology?"

"F-forgive me, sir." You lay your head low, too afraid to meet his disapproving eyes.

"You like mythology?" He asks an unexpected question and you know you have to answer.

"It...interests me."

"Does it?" You nod. "Which one?"

"...Hades and Persephone, sir."

Namjoon chuckles. It isn't anything like the dark chuckles he gives to the ones that have offended him and you wonder why.

"What about that story interests you?"

"Well," you say. It's a little easier to speak. "I just..find it quite lovely. Persephone would have been a forgotten goddess if Hades had not given her purpose. Their love created the seasons. The darkness fell in love with the flower."

"More like he fell for her and stole her away to his kingdom."

"But she eventually found love within the Underworld God as well," you point out. "He showed her kindness, showed her that he's capable of love as well, and that he isn't as heartless and cruel as everyone deems him to be."

He takes a moment to be silent, his eyes meeting yours, the same ones that refused to be afraid of him from the moment he had first taken a good look at you.

You were pure, still pure, and too innocent to fall into the hands of a father who couldn't show his own daughter some bit of love.

Namjoon finds it disgusting honestly, and figured that was the case when you were first offered to him. So after finding out it was indeed true from Yoongi, the fact only makes him more bitter.

"I'm sure the God only felt a change in him because of her."

Yet you shake your head gently at his words. "No one can change you, you do that yourself," you say. "The people around you are the ones that inspires you to change."

Namjoon doesn't understand how anyone can ever dare to think of hurting someone like you.

.

.

A few days later, you don't know how you got here but here you are, standing in a room filled with people in an ivory dress that falls to the floor.

You've been to parties before, you've been to plenty of parties, and it surprises you that you're let out after just two months of staying with the mafia gang.

Are they not afraid of you escaping?

Then again, perhaps it's because they are prepared for your escape in case you do try to leave.

They'll hunt your father down.

He may not love you as you still dreadfully love him, but you won't risk him at the chance of death.

You stand alone, not understanding what your position is because this is their mission. They're here to hunt someone down.

Distraction, Namjoon states, but you don't understand what that means.

Someone walks up to you, a gentleman, who offers you a drink that you decide to let him down on.

Another walks up to you and another.

You feel uncomfortable in the crowd that surrounds you, making lame jokes, trying too woo you.

"How about we ditch this party?"

Oh no, you certainly cannot do that.

"You know, you look quite familiar."

You don't want to be known and expose your identity, you can't do that when you're in the middle of a mission you're supposed to be a part of.

But with these men around, you can't do your job even though you don't know what exactly you're supposed to be doing.

Someone touches you and you flinch. "Please don't do that."

But he only laughs.

They laugh, shrugging it off as if it is not inappropriate.

But it is and you hate it.

Someone slides a hand along your waist and you flinch again before relaxing when you see who the man is.

"She already came with someone," Seokjin glares at them, ready to hurt the guy who dared to touch you.

You don't know why he makes you relaxed but amongst the crowd that eventually dies down around you, Seokjin feels the safest despite knowing what he does.

Maybe it's because you know him.

A little.

When he turns to you, you lay your head in shame. "I-I'm sorry."

He scoffs. "For what?"

You look up at him, confused. "Hm?"

It's a cute hum. "You did your job distracting them, good job." That was what they meant? You really didn't like it and you think he can understand that by the look on your face. "It's okay, you can leave now. Now go there, we've located our guy."

You look over at where he beckons.

A hallway.

"You're...not coming?" You ask. You know it isn't good to question them and it almost scares you but Seokjin doesn't grow angry.

"I'm shutting this party down," he smirks and you can understand what that means.

When he lets you go, you hesitate for a moment, watching him, and when you come to comprehend the fact that he will do nothing until you leave, you bid him goodbye and rush away.

The gunshot comes a minute later as you're running down the hall and you hear the distant screams.

It's hard but you keep running.

Heels hurt but it doesn't matter.

You have to run.

Find someone, one of them. Leave with them.

Yet you can't get far enough because someone grabs you by the arm, pulls you into a room, and forces themself to hold you against their chest, arm choking you and a gun pointed to your head.

Jungkook stands before you with a gun pointed directly at you. Or maybe not at you, maybe at the man. With a blank stare, showing no sign of weakness.

"Let me go or I'll kill her," the man behind you threatens.

You don't know why he thinks you're important to the man and you're sure even Jungkook thinks that.

Because the youngest only shrugs.

"Kill her," he says nonchalantly. "As if I care."

"Then why'd she come with you?"

"She's just a maid."

The man laughs darkly. "A little whore, huh? I hear you don't usually keep girls around for long. Is she that good?"

"You're sick for an old man."

He laughs again, louder, and it brings shivers down your spine. "I can be sicker." Something wet swipes along your cheek and you realize it's his tongue.

His dirty, disgusting tongue.

It breaks you.

Memories flooding back. Your mother, her tears. You, a little girl, and your father not caring one bit.

Jungkook meets your eyes when it tears up, trembling, but he keeps on the nonchalant facade. As if he doesn't care what the man will do to you, so your tears only falls because you are so, so afraid.

You can't do this.

You're still pure.

You can't...you can't.

"Quite sweet," the man hums and you whimper. "What a sweeter voice."

Jungkook rolls his eyes. "Quit your games and just face me already."

He chuckles. "Alright, fine." He releases you, pushes you down the floor where you yelp at the harsh sensation. "Don't worry sweetie, I'll clean you up later-"

But he doesn't get a chance to say anything further.

Once he's distracted, a bullet has already hit his shoulder with no hesitation.

His head snaps back to Jungkook who shoots again. And then again, and again.

You hold your hands over your ears, tears falling at the continuous gunshots that doesn't seem to ever stop and Jungkook's angry voice rings above it.

"After I'm done with you, I'll deal with your family just like you've done to mine. I'll kill them, each and every one of them. Not even your damn dog will be spared."

He can't hear him, you know he can't. There's no chance of survival left with the continuous gunshots that comes and comes, angry waves of hot tears escaping the maknae's eyes when you look up, and your heart shatters.

A broken little boy of a childhood that forced him into this life.

Seeking for revenge for what someone, that someone on the floor, has done to his very own family.

When the ammo is no longer, Jungkook throws the gun harshly at the wall where it hits and breaks, and runs to hold up the man by his collar, fist coming in contact with his face.

He's already dead but even then Jungkook is not satisfied.

How can he ever be satisfied?

His family is gone, never to return to his side.

A lost man. A lost child.

You get up from where you were thrown and take his arm to pull him away. "Jungkook-"

"Get away from me, you whore!"

You ignore his spiteful words and continue pulling at him. "Stop! He's dead!"

Yet Jungkook doesn't care.

"Jungkook!" A few more punches until you finally got him and push him away. "Jungkook," you call his name a little gentler, "it's okay."

He scoffs and pushes you away. "What does a whore understand?"

He goes to stand again but you force him back down, hands reaching out to lay against his shoulders. "It's okay, Jungkook. It's going to be okay," you repeat again. "You don't have to be afraid anymore."

"I'm not-"

"You're going to be alright." You hold him down, staring straight into his eyes. "I know you're scared," you say, "I know you're confused. But it's going to be alright. You're just a little boy who's gone through so much. You must have been hurting for so long, Jungkook, but you're okay now and I am so, so proud of you."

You hold his face, a soft gentle sensation against him, thumbs brushing away the hot tears that had fallen from his eyes.

You wipe away the blood on his face. Watching him gently, holding him gently.

And Jungkook doesn't understand but he tears up a little more. His chest tightens and he feels himself trembling.

What a lovely pair of hands.

So he surprises you by wrapping his hands around your waist and pulling you in close, face resting against the crook of your neck.

"I'm sorry," he whispers.

You freeze for a second before relaxing and holding him still, hairs running along his fluffy hair, stroking it sweetly. "You're alright now. It's okay."

"Jungkook-!"

The rest of them comes rushing into the room only to find a dead body, blood spilled all around, with you and Jungkook holding onto each other as Jungkook cries.

Jungkook's crying.

Holding you.

He doesn't do that unless he absolutely cannot take it anymore.

He doesn't ever do that in front of anyone but them.

And now you.

You look up at their faces, some bits of blood managing to wipe across your face, with eyes of innocence, and Namjoon wonders why you aren't running away despite the blood in the room.

Despite having just witnessed Jungkook killing someone.

.

.

Taehyung lays in the pool when you walk in to clean a day later, body floating under the moonlight, eyes laying closed.

So when he hears a soft gasp and a bucket falling against the tiles, his lids open and meets your eyes from where you stand.

Heat rushes to your face and you're quick to turn around. "I-I am so sorry, sir! I didn't know you'd be here. I-I thought that, that I could clean up early since no one would be here."

What a cute little thing.

"Cleaning up at one in the morning?" He swims over slowly to you, arms laying on the edge of the pool, chin resting against his wet skin with an amused grin. "Shouldn't you be sleeping?"

"I..I couldn't sleep, sir."

Sir.

He smirks, a hum leaving his lips. "Can't sleep, hm?" Jimin's told him he checks up on you from time to time and always find you awake at night. "Then come join me."

You turn around abruptly. "W-what? No, I can't do that."

"Why not?" Taehyung shrugs casually. "A good swim is a nice way to clear your head. And don't worry, I won't drown you or anything."

You aren't worried about that.

For some reason.

But you still don't think swimming in the middle of the night is a good idea whether he's your superior or not.

But Taehyung isn't a man who takes no as an answer.

He kicks himself out the pool and the next thing you know, he's wrapping his wet body around yours and dropping the both of you straight into the deep pool.

He watches you struggle from down there, a nonchalant expression resting on his face while your eyes are squeezed shut as you try and fail at getting air again.

So Taehyung swims on over and takes you in his arms where he swims back up and lets you breathe again.

You gasp for air while he holds you and lets you sit against his strong arms.

It takes a moment but you manage to come back to him eventually.

You don't rush to yell at him like he expects you to. You don't even make a scowl.

You just rest your hands against his shoulders, holding on tightly and panting and coughing because you don't know how to swim and the deep water scares you.

He's got to admit though, you look quite pretty all wet like this, resting against his hold, clothes completely drenched.

"Um..-"

He adjusts his hold and your face comes closer to him than the two of you expects.

Your face flushes some more, nose slightly touching, and your eyes gaze into one another under the bright moonlight from above.

"...hi," you squeak.

Taehyung laughs. "Hi."

"It's um...cold."

"Is it?" You hum. "I like swimming in the cold."

"Do you often swim at night?"

He nods. "It's nice after a day of...you know what. It's relaxing."

"Won't you get a cold?"

"I have thick skin, little one." You sneeze right then and he chuckles. "But it looks like you don't."

"I'm sorry," you say as he swims on over to the edge of the pool, "for this and for interrupting your time here."

The man shakes his head assuringly as he settles you on the tiles of the pool. "It's nice to get a visitor every once in a while. Can you stay a little longer?"

You blink. "You want me to?"

"I do," he hums. "Besides, you don't have extra clothes and the boss wouldn't want his floors wet."

You bite your lower lip. "Right."

"There's some towels over there and you can wear my clothes."

You look on over where there's a racket of the white towels and his clothes hanging. But is it right? "I..shouldn't."

"Why not?" He asks, stroking back calmly. "Take it or you'll catch a cold staying here all drenched."

It takes a few more moments of hesitation but you eventually give in and does as he's asked.

The night is a little less lonely as you sit beside the pool, watching as Taehyung floats around on his back, eyelids closed, with a soft tune humming from his throat.

.

.

"Hey, you okay?"

You look up at the sound of Jungkook's voice who walks into the main living room, a face of concern resting on his face in this late afternoon. He's gotten gentle towards you ever since that night.

"Um..why do you ask that?" You reply with your own question while spraying the coffee table and wiping it down.

"You look tired," he states. "Jimin says he doesn't see you sleeping a lot..or ever."

"I'm fine," you insist.

But he goes on anyways. "Is it the atmosphere? Or maybe you're one of those people who needs something in order to sleep? Taehyung can't sleep without hugging something or someone."

What a cute revelation.

"Do you need to hold something? But then again, you've got pillows." You don't know why he's acting so concerned. "Or maybe you need a physical someone to hold you?"

And if you do, what will he do?

"Or do you need a nightlight?"

"It's okay," you tell him. "I don't need anything."

"But you can't sleep."

"I'm used to it."

Jungkook frowns. "That's not good, Y/N. You need to sleep." He pauses for a brief moment. "Why can't you sleep?" You don't answer him right away so he calls your name sternly. "Y/N."

You may have gotten a little closer but you still work for him, and you and your father's life is indebted to him.

"I get scared."

It's an honest truth, something that scares you for even speaking off it.

He settles down before you, taking your hand from mindlessly wiping at the same spot for the past few minutes.

"Of what?" He asks, silently hoping for you to meet his gaze.

But you don't.

It only falls to your lap.

"The nightmares," you say.

He hums as if he understands and he probably does. A young boy walking into the mafia life. His nightmares may be a little different from yours but nightmares are all the same.

Leaving you afraid, scared, trembling, and weak.

Too weak and terrified to close your eyes again. Afraid for the darkness to consume you all over again.

Even the drowsiness is not strong enough to pull you back asleep.

"What are they of?" He carefully asks.

"It...varies." You stare at the hand that holds yours. "Sometimes it's of me, trapped and vulnerable. Sometimes it's of me dying. Sometimes it's of my father, or my mother."

You've never spoken of your mother except now.

He doesn't think he's ever heard anything about your mother before. Not from your father, not from Namjoon who holds records of your father.

Even the news that had once made your family relevant to the world has never said anything about your mother.

"She left us, thankfully, and I think that she's happier now so I don't really care that she ran away. But sometimes I dream back to the days when things were rougher. Rougher for her and I couldn't do anything to help. When she ran, I was about twelve then. She wanted me to go with her but back then I cared for my father's mentality and what he'd do if the both of us were gone. He wouldn't do well, he grew sick then. So I escaped last minute when we got on the train and made up excuses to my father not to hunt her down."

"Y/N..."

He squeezes your hand and holds his other one up to your face, brushing away the tears you hadn't realized had escaped.

"Jungkook," you hold the hand that touches your face, "I don't think my father is going to pay back what he owes."

"Yeah," he sighs, "we had a haunch since it's been months."

"Are you...angry?" You ask worriedly. "Is Namjoon angry?"

"There's a good and a bad," he tells you. "The bad thing is that there was a lot of money he borrowed from us. The good thing is," his gaze falls soft your way, his hand grazing your cheek in a gentle manner, "I don't care because he won't be taking you back any time soon."

"What if...what if I don't want him to take me back...ever?"

"Are you afraid of him?" You nod, lips quivering and honestly he knows that was a foolish question to ask. "Oh baby, come here." He takes your body, letting you settle against his lap, letting your head rest against his chest, and holds you there as you cry softly. "It's okay, you have us now, you have me." He strokes your cheek, the same one that filthy old baster had licked upon and though Jungkook feels angry for him and your father, he keeps himself calm for your sake.

"There's no need to be afraid anymore, baby." A gentle promise that makes your heart smile and ache all at the same time. "Even if he does ever pay us back, I won't let him near you, you got that? You don't have to worry anymore. I'm right here."

.

.

You go missing a few days later and it creates sets of panicking emotions.

"The security cameras didn't catch her anywhere outside," Seokjin claims. "She has to be somewhere in this house. Y/N can't just disappear like that."

"Look around," Namjoon orders and they all begin to split up.

He walks into the library minutes after searching a few other places with Jimin, running around, calling your name. The library is one of the largest rooms and Namjoon curses under his breath because he knows he should have checked here first.

The aisle that holds that mythology book you like so much.

And he does find you, sitting in the dark room, head against the book shelves.

He almost shouts aloud, afraid you had fainted or something, but then he hears a soft snore and he realizes that you've just fallen asleep.

"Hyung, have you-" Jimin pauses when he finds you as well and the two of them both lets out sighs of relief.

"Inform the others," he orders as he walks over to you, kneeling on the floor in front of you.

You're in a deep slumber but he's sure you're neck will be tense if you don't move in to a more comfortable position so he maneuvers you carefully from the support of the shelves to his own chest.

You stir a little and he hushes you softly.

"It's the first time I've seen her sleep," Jimin says in a low whisper as the two of them watch you.

You look so vulnerable.

Peaceful and lovely laying in Namjoon's arms.

But then your face distorts, brows creasing, lips pressed against one another. Your hands come to rest against Namjoon's shirt, clenching onto it tightly, soft whimpers falling from your lips.

There are two stray tears that falls, your head reaching to nuzzle into the comfort of the boss's neck.

"What happened?" Yoongi asks when he and the rest shows up not long after.

"Nightmare," Jimin guesses by what Jungkook has told him.

Namjoon strokes your cheeks gently, brushing away your tears, shushing you lightly. "Wake up, baby," he repeats a few times until you finally open your eyes, the nightmares too hard to bear. More whimpers leave your lips as you sob a little more.

So he holds you a little tighter. "It's okay, baby, I'm right here. I've got you. You're okay now, baby."

.

.

"Your father has gone off my radar."

"O..oh..."

You don't know what it means for you, what any of it would mean. But standing here in front of Namjoon's desk, it scares you a bit.

"I assume the man is trying to escape from the consequences of his actions, not that it's going to help him. If anything, this only makes things worse." He watches you steadily from where he sits, leaned back against his chair, one leg over the other. "Can you tell me where he might be?" He asks slowly. "A safe house? Headquarters? A vacation home he may escape to?"

"There's...a place," you say hesitantly. You aren't sure if your father will be happy about this but then again, is he ever happy when it comes to you? "He has a safe house on Jeju Island."

You tell him the address and he jots it down in a notepad.

"He's not going to give up that easily but neither will I. What's his weakness, Y/N? You must know that, right?"

He hopes and he doesn't hope that it will be you.

For one, if you are then it means he cares more about you than what he shows. But it'll mean he won't be able to get through to the man because he knows he will not use you as a pawn in this game. And two, if you aren't then he'll understand just how bad of a human this guy really is.

Worse than him, a mafia leader.

Because at least Namjoon has a heart.

"He cares a lot about his business," you tell him. "It'll hurt him if his business falls and he goes bankrupt."

Business over his own daughter.

What a piece of crap.

"What..." you hesitate again, afraid to look up since the very beginning when you've entered his office. "What will...you do..?"

"Will it hurt you to see him fall?" He asks you, observing you carefully.

There's a moment of silence as you think it over.

"If he falls...will I fall along with him?"

"No," he's quick to say. "Your father doesn't own you, Y/N, this is your life whether he likes it or not. When I'm done with him, you can choose whether to stay or leave. Either choice you make, I'll make sure you will never fall to the position I hope to break him at."

A choice at your own life.

How different has life finally changed for you.

You take another moment to think again. "Do you believe I should still care about him?"

"He doesn't deserve any of your love and care," he tells you honestly. "He deserves to rot away in hell."

Yet he is still your father.

A father who hurts, a father who doesn't care.

"It's your call, baby."

Your call.

No one has ever given you a choice at anything. First your father, and then the society he had place you in.

Serving as the perfect daughter. Smart, pretty, dependable, and listens well. You don't speak up for your own self even when others criticize you. You don't make friends because your father forbade it. You've never fallen in love, never felt love of any sorts.

And now Namjoon, mafia boss, leader to a ruthless, dark gang, one many fears, is asking for your call.

But you don't know what to do.

"I-I'm sorry, I...I don't know," you admit.

Yet Namjoon remains patient.

"Do you wish to live an independent life, Y/N?" He leans away from his seat, legs uncrossing, elbows resting upon his desk. "Without having to worry about your father or anyone else but yourself? Live your own life, care for your own self and just yourself."

It may sound better than living with your father but it sounds lonely.

So lonely.

So you shake your head. "I want to stay," you tell him and he raises a brow, a bit surprised.

"You don't hate it here?"

You shake your head again. "I like talking," you say, "I like having someone else to talk to. I don't wanna be alone anymore, it scares me."

"This world I live in should scare you more."

"But you're more human than my father can ever be and you care more than what my father can ever give. I-I'm sorry if I'm being selfish, I just-"

"You deserve to be selfish once in a while."

He stands from his chair, rolling it back to take slow steps your way. You look up, meeting his gaze, those intense, piercing gaze, and the world seems to fall silent.

All but the intense beating of your heart.

All but his slow footsteps making his way towards you.

It stops when he's just a few inches away, his height hovering over you and you feel oh so small.

"Human," he says lowly, "no one's ever called me that in a while. It sounds refreshing, like I actually have a heart."

"But you do," you say and point right at his chest. "It's right here."

Namjoon chuckles. "Yes," he hums, taking your small hand into his own, "it is." Your heart skips a beat. "I believe the members won't mind another one added to the family."

"And...you?"

A smirk dances on his lips. "Isn't it obvious? Of course I want you to stay." You let out the breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding onto and he finds it amusing yet sad. "I'll take care of your father," he tells you, a hand reaching out to stroke your soft cheek, "just stay with the maknaes until we get back, alright?"

You nod at his words and he smiles, patting your head.

"Good girl."

.

.

Three days later at around 3 am, the door to your room creaks open and you turn from the window to find Hoseok standing in your doorway.

"He's dealt with," the man informs you.

Black suit on, a messy hairstyle yet he still manages to look good.

More than good.

You don't know what to say, how to deal with this. On one side, this is your fault, you've exposed his weakness and location. Your own father.

But on the other side, he's never treated you as human, never treated you as the daughter you deserved to feel like.

So maybe this is the right thing? Staying in a large mansion bigger than yours once was, living a life far better than your father who...who knows what's happened to him exactly.

"He isn't dead," Hoseok tells you, "but he probably feels that way at this point."

"Did he...mention me?"

A part of you still has hope that he has some humanity left in him, wondering whether he's asked about you, whether he's worried what will happen to you.

And Hoseok sees that without you voicing your thoughts so he keeps the story to himself.

You don't need to know how your father only belittled you some more, or blamed you, calling you plain useless, and not caring about what they'd do to you from now on.

Yoongi punched him a good few times for that.

You didn't deserve such words and the old man doesn't deserve you.

So Hoseok just remains silent as he walks through the door, watching you steadily from where you stand.

He stops where you are, brows furrowing at the sight he sees. "You're tired," he says softly with a hand going on to stroke your cheek.

You take that hand, hold it between yours. "You're cold, Hoseok."

Small hands caressing his, rubbing it to give it your own warmth.

"Sleep, sweetheart."

He presses a kiss against your forehead. A soft kiss.

So maybe it's what makes you a little braver to rest yourself against his chest, against his hold.

He's cold but you welcome it.

"Thank you, Hoseok."

.

.

"You didn't come back last night," Taehyung smirks at his hyung's way when he walks into the kitchen, hair ruffled and messy from just waking up.

Hoseok doesn't hide it. "How could I?" He says, shrugging. "I wanted to make sure the little one fell asleep."

Fresh morning light filters into the room after years of living in just the darkness. Coffee beans and scrambled eggs filling the room.

Yoongi takes a sip of his hot drink with eyes checking the clock that reads somewhere around nine. "She finally slept."

"So what'd you do to the old man?" Jungkook asks.

"Left him to rot away like the life he deserves," Seokjin says bitterly.

"And Y/N? The media isn't going to try and get into her life are they?"

"I've dealt with them last night," Namjoon tells him. "She can live a peaceful life now."

"Not entirely," Jimin points out with a light scoff. "Since when have our lives been peaceful?"

"Well," Yoongi shrugs, "at least there's some light now."

Footsteps are heard, coming from afar, nearing and nearing, and they almost consciously reach for their guns but the steps are two soft for anyone threatening.

Too soft.

And quick.

You run in, stopping at the sight of them with a soft gasp and Jimin stands from where he sits to instantly rush to your side.

Tears fall from your eyes. You're scared, the nightmares making you feel terrified.

"Hey, it's okay, baby," he holds your face, brushing the tears away, gives you kisses on both your eyelids as the rest joins to surround you with worry. "It's okay. We're right here, baby. You're alright now. You're okay."

.

.

"Jin...?"

He hums, asking you to go on when you walk into his office hesitantly, eyes never straying from the computers that surrounds his office, fingers typing away with codes of black and green letters rushing through the screen.

Something you can never come to ever decipher.

"You..you're good with...tracking people down...right?"

He hums again and you fall a little more hesitantly this time.

When he doesn't hear your voice again after a few long seconds, Seokjin stops typing and turns his chair around to face you. "What is it, little one?" He asks. "Do you need me to track someone down?"

His brows are a little furrowed, hoping you don't mean your father. The same one who unfortunately doesn't care much about you.

He doesn't understand why you had the heart to stay and not run away, but then again, perhaps there was no escape.

After all, where would you have gone? He just wishes you hadn't loved him as much.

But the words that comes out of your mouth is something entirely different from what he expects.

"I want you to find...my mother." He stares at you for a moment, a little taken back, and you swallow a lump in your throat. "I just need to know if she's alright," you tell him. "At least then," you pause, "hopefully...another nightmare may go away."

The nightmares, right.

"I just need to know."

He lets himself take a breather, arms opening up for you. "Come here, sweetie." He snakes his arms around your waist, allowing you to fall against his lap. A hand comes up to your hair, fingers playing along a few strands. "If I find her, what will you do? Will you go to find out?"

You're adorable with the slight pout of confusion on your face. He just wishes you smiled more often.

"...may I?"

He gifts you a soft smile, planting a kiss on your temple. "I'll come with you, alright?"

You nod, knowing it'll be better that way. "Thank you, Seokjin."

.

.

The street looks like a nice neighborhood. Suburban home miles away from Seoul.

Peaceful and friendly looking.

"There it is," you say softly under your breath as you stop walking, staring at the number of the house a few feet away.

It's a pretty home with a spacious yard, and suddenly you're feeling quite nervous. Small and timid.

How will she react? Will she even want to see you? You had deserted her on that train after all, left her crying and calling out for you from the window. Her shouts echoes in your dreams from time to time, moments you shall never forget.

You told her you'd head to the bathroom, only to escape, hoping she wouldn't catch you. So the instant her eyes met yours outside the train, all thoughts of watching her quietly leave were thrown out and you ran.

Ran and ran without giving her a chance to chase after you because the train had already began to depart.

You left her a letter in your backpack. She had asked you to pack, fully expecting a few clothes and snacks.

But the only thing in it was a photo of you and her with departing words in sloppy handwriting on the back, signed your name.

Would she forgive you for leaving without a proper goodbye?

Would she forgive you at all?

Seokjin takes your hand without a word, squeezing it for comfort as if he understands your thoughts and insecurities.

You look up at him, smiling, and his heart almost melts.

It's a little sad but you haven't smiled so much so he knows that this is good enough.

You hear voices, a cheery child laughing as she jumps and gasp as you grip onto Seokjin's hand tightly and rush to hide the both of you behind a fence.

There's a child with her parents, holding onto their hands as she skips happily.

Her father makes a joke and they laugh. Her and...

Your heart skips a beat, breath held back, tears forming at the brim of your eyes, throat clogged up, mouth feeling dry all of a sudden.

"Careful, sweetie," she tells the child just around seven years old. "You might fall if you aren't too careful."

"But you and Daddy will be there to catch me, mummy."

"Even so," she grins, picking her up in her arms, "I don't want you getting hurt, okay?"

"Ah, mom, you're always so worried about the slightest thing!"

Her father chuckles as he places a sweet kiss on his wife's temple. They share an understanding gaze, something the daughter will not come to comprehend just yet, and walk into the very home you had been seeking for.

Your mother is always worried about the slightest thing because of you, a young child who's often clumsy, a young child who should have never been exposed to the dysfunctional life of what was supposed to be a lovely household.

But she's escaped that.

Got a new husband, a loving husband, and another daughter.

Your half sister, your step father.

"Y/N?" He calls your name, one of the seven reasons why your life has gotten better, why you're saved.

So you turn to him, smiling sweetly even with tears falling away, and take his hand.

"Let's go home."

Home.

.

.

The sun has already set when the two of you return, lights by the entrance doorway flicking on when you and Seokjin walk up the doorsteps.

The doors open, revealing Yoongi who has on a grumpy frown.

"Where have you been? It's late and you never answered. Do you have any idea how-"

You wrap your arms around him, falling against his chest, and he freezes up, eyes blinking in confusion, looking at his hyung for an explanation.

Seokjin just smiles and though he remains perplexed, he allows your warmth to welcome him and pulls you in closer.

"You okay, baby?"

You nod against him. "Hungry."

He chuckles lightly.

.

.

2 am.

There's a knock at their door and Taehyung comes to open it.

You stand there, looking up at him looking oh so small and adorable. There's hesitation in your eyes, small body rocking slightly from side to side, unsure if this is the right place to come to.

"Nightmare, sweet one?" He asks you.

You shake your head, rubbing at your sleepy eyes. "Can't sleep, want my nightlight."

He tilts his head slightly to the side. "Nightlight?"

"You."

How cute.

It has him smiling no matter how hard he tries to hide it because he likes it. He likes the sound of that.

"Come in, then."

They're already settled in, just a lamp turned on by the bedside and you crawl in to the middle of the large bed.

"Sorry," you mumble quietly as you settle in between Jungkook and Namjoon who holds onto you securely.

Jungkook has his arms around you from the back, spooning you and pressing a soft kiss on your shoulder. "It's okay, baby, don't apologize."

"Sweet dreams." Another kiss pressed against your head, Namjoon pulling the covers up to your neck as your eyes slowly closes.

Your hear the light flickering off and you know you'll have a pleasant dream you haven't had in a long, long time.

"Thank you," you whisper into the quiet night, a confession just on the tip of your tongue but you know you don't have to say it aloud for them to understand.

And they don't have to say a word for you to know either.

#btsboulangerie #btsguild #bts polyamory #bts poly #bts mafia #bts mafia au #bts poly au #bts poly!au #bts x reader #ot7 x reader #bts ot7 x reader #poly!bts #poly bts #poly!bts x reader #mafia bts #bts mafia!au #bts gang #bts gang au #bts angst #bts fluff #bts fanfic #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook

[potter-imagines]

Being Thor and Loki's Little Sister and Dating Peter Parker Would Include...

Notes: wow I haven't written a marvel one in a long time pls don't read too much into the timeline lol I know things overlap but just go with it (:

Warnings: none... I think ??

Word Count: 3.6k (sorry its a bit long for a write like this but I couldn't help myself)

You managed to do a decent job at keeping your relationship under wraps from your brothers for quite some time

Of course every other member on the team knew before the two of you even begun officially dating

Peter had spent three months ranting and raving to Tony Stark about how cute he thought you were and how much he liked you

Tony insisted time and time again he should tell you but Peter’s fear of rejection was much too large for him to find the courage for that

Unbeknownst to him,

You had spilled about your crush on Peter to Wanda and Nat almost a week after living in the compound

Being the only other girls there besides Pepper, it was easy to confide in them

Day after day you would wander to Wanda’s room and lay on her bed and gush about how handsome Peter was and how kind of a heart he had

Wanda found it adorable

And Bucky, Steve and Sam had placed the pieces together after days on end of watching Peter and yourself flirt like school kids in the gym during training

Even after being frozen for years, Steve recognized the look of smitten on Peter’s face when he talked to you

Bruce on the other hand had to sit through most of the kids talks with Tony in the lab so he figured it out fast

So when the two of you finally confessed your feelings for one another and Peter asked you out, there was only one road block holding the moment back from perfection

Your brothers

You and Peter shared the news with all the other team members expect the two, possibly most important in your case, members

You’ve been close to your brothers since you were brought into this world so it wasn’t like you didn’t want to tell them

It was more or less how overprotective they could be that made you bite your tongue

And as nervous as you are, Peter is 1,000% more worried about your brother’s finding out

Like honestly can you imagine how petrified Peter would be to tell Thor and Loki you two were dating

He’d purposely walk in the opposite direction every time he saw either of the two for the first week

Couldn’t stop fumbling with his words when he spoke to either of them

Like he was terrified

It’s sort of a cliché to have protective older brothers but older brothers who were also both Gods ????

Peter felt like a deadman walking

When the day finally came that you did tell your brothers about your relationship with Peter, it was absolutely cringe worthy

Peter had been coming home to the tower after a long day at Midtown High School when he spotted you the second he stepped foot out of the elevator

His excitement had clouded his judgement as he failed to check and see if the coast was clear

“Y/n! Hey!”

He nearly tumbled over his own feet as he rushed over to you

His face was gleaming with happiness and for a brief moment you felt a smile creep to your face until you were pulled back to reality by his hand reaching out to grasp yours

Your eyes widened in shock as you stared at Peter and before you could warn him to stop, he had planted a soft kiss on your cheek

That adorable smile was glowing from his face as he reached down for your hand only to fall once you pulled your hand away

He gave you a look of confusion, clearly surprised by your lack of response

But when an awkward cough sounded from behind him, he suddenly knew why

Peter didn’t have enough time to make any sort of a move when a husky, all too familiar voice spoke up,

“Hello, man of spiders. May I ask why you just kissed our little sister?” “Oh shit- I uh, well you see I…um...she had something on her face so I uh…”

Loki would snicker in amusement at seeing the boy squirm and prolong his torture “So you kissed her?” “Yeah…” “Hm, there something you’d like to share, little one?”

It wasn’t exactly the way you were hoping to break the news to your brothers

But it was certainly one way of doing it

The rest of the night was filled with awkward tension as you and Peter had to confess the truth to your brothers, who then made you share the news with the rest of the team

Thankfully, the rest of the team pretended they were just hearing about your new relationship for the first time, seeing as no one wanted to deal with an angry Thor

Now let’s get into your relationship with Peter

Peter Parker is the most caring person in the universe

Honestly

And dating him certainly came with it’s perks

You can expect to wake up every morning with a fresh coffee and a pastry on your nightstand, courtesy of Peter

He’ll also write you a sweet little ‘good morning’ note with a sketch of spider-man hanging from a web

(( he’s actually pretty talented in the doodling department ))

Makes cute sketches of him as spiderman and you as a princess ( vv fitting)

But also draws you as a total badass saving the galaxy bc… well you are

Count on him to be the first person to greet you when the sunrises and the last person to wish you a goodnight when it falls

Gets Mr. Stark to buy you an iphone so he can teach you how to use it

Has your name as “goddess” in his phone

The first thing he does is teach you about texting so he can pay you in imessage games

Refuses to play you in battleship since you somehow have crushed him every single time

Gets slightly annoyed with the overwhelming amount of random photos you snap of him

But he knows its all new to you and finds it irritatingly adorable

Loves it when you walk home with him from school

Will also keep reminding you that you shouldn’t have walked alone all the way to Midtown High School alone

Peter often forgets that you’re Asgardian and can protect yourself just fine

But it’s so cute how protective he is

He’s very observant and notices nearly everything

Like when you’re feeling a bit homesick

He picks up on it right away and will ask Thor and/or Loki for advice

Or when you start to become bored and tired at one of Star’s parties

Peter made his way over you before you even had the chance to turn and search for him

He’d escort you back to your room and lay with you until he was positive you had fallen asleep

Kisses to the top of your head

Is the boyfriend that will take your makeup off for you if you wear any

(( and sets yours lashes on the nightstand so neatly and labels which eye they were on cause the poor boy doesn’t understand ))

Spends weeks learning how to master the intricate braids that adorn your head

It’s so cute cause he’ll sit and look up Youtube videos and try to learn how to make the different braids and is just so confused but so determined

Taking Peter to visit Asgard

“Woah- this place looks like something from Lord of the Rings! It’s awesome!” “Lord of the Rings? I’ve never met that God.” “Uh, no, it’s a movie from Earth. We can watch it when we go back.” “To Midgard?” “Midgard? No, to New York.”

Loves it when your people refer to you as “Princess Y/n”

For some reason it makes him blush

Will tell everyone back on Earth that he’s dating a princess

I could def see Peter getting annoyed and frustrated with the Asgardian men trying to flirt and win your heart

Although that’s something that already belong to Peter

And even though Peter trusts you entirely

He’s still insecure from time to time

Especially when he sees how much taller and stronger Asgardian men look in comparison to him

But he finds reassurance in the feeling of your hand in his and the gleeful smile adorning your face as you show him around your homeland

Attempting to help Peter study

Although you’re not much help to Midgardian school work “Peter, darling, I don’t have a clue what a watergate is and I haven’t an idea how that could be scandalous.”

Maths however you excelled in

And Peter was thoroughly surprised to find you had the sequence of PI memorized to the one hundredth number- and in song form

Holding your hand 24/7

Endless cuddles on the couch

And when you’re walking around together, he does that thing where he swings your hands and back forth

Movie theater dates… at the tower b/c your brothers feel the need to be in close proximity the you guys at all times

Trying ice cream for the first time with Peter at two in the morning

One of Peter’s favorite things to do with you is take you through a walk in his world

At least three times a week Peter and you will walk around the city and find new things your Asgardian self has yet to experience

Like pizza

New York pizza to be exact

And hot chocolate

Ice skating at Rockefeller Center once the weather got cold

Loves to take you for drives in the more woodsy land of New York once fall set in and the leaves began to change

But by far his favorite thing is showing you Midgardian films and movies of all sorts

He loves that you don’t judge him for nerding out over his love for films

Not to mention you actually sit and watch Star Wars with him

(( maybe it was the whole space element but Peter was just thrilled you liked it ))

But then he shows you ‘Alien’

And it was an instant regret

It took him the rest of the night to convince you that the movie was fake

You made him sleep in your room just for reassurance

Your favorite out of the films Peter played was called ‘Toy Story’

Buzz Lightyear reminded you of Thor

In terms of TV shows

F.R.I.E.N.D.S. which quickly became your guys comfort show

Parks & Rec too “That Andy fellow looks an awful lot like Starlord, don’t you think?”

Peter refuses to let you watch Black Mirror

After the whole incident with Alien

Black Mirror didn’t seem like a good idea

Constantly teasing from the rest of the Avengers

Tony just can’t help it

He loves tormenting the two of you

Especially when Thor and/or Loki are around

“Hey Peter, I thought I saw you go into Y/n’s room last night but I didn’t see you leave until the morning. Heard a lot of noise too- thought Y/n was getting attacked. What was that about?”

Or

“Kid, I got you those condoms you asked for. How’d you manage to run out of that last box so quick? I just bought it for you a week ago!” “Messing with you, they’re just sugar packets- Thor put Peter down right now!”

Aunt May absolutely adores you

Always tells Peter how sweet you are and is constantly inviting you over for dinner

Lets you two have sleepovers in his room at her place

As long as the door stays open

Peter can’t stop laughing when you compliment May on her ability to make an amazing bowl of cereal

She thought it was a joke seeing as she burned dinner the night before to a crisp and laughs until she’s in tears

And you’re literally sitting there so confused, clearly not understanding the joke

Peter then takes you on a trip to a grocery store for the first time to show you a whole aisle full of cereal

It is then that you realize Aunt May didn’t hand make the fruity pebbles

She still laughs about it to this day

Befriending Ned and listening enthusiastically while he gives you a full speech on the franchise Star Wars

And his rant on how terrible Star Trek is in comparison

Is shocked when you ask questions out of genuine interest

Ned immediately takes a liking to you after that and asks Peter daily to invite you to hangout

Whenever Stark adds an upgrade to his suit, you’re the first person Peter shows it to

He shares quite literally everything with you

As do you to him

The rest of the Avengers love gossiping about you guys

Nat and Wanda have already started planning the wedding and Pepper has the perfect venue in mind, much to your brothers dismay

For some reason

Thor and Loki are always within reasonable distance, enough so they can keep an eye on you but also give some sense of privancy

Thor is def always the first one to step in

“Peter, please remove your hand from my sister’s behind.” “Oh uh, ye-yeah… sorry, Mr.Thor.”

Loki would find Peter amusing

He loves to mess with him whenever given the chance

“Ah, Peter. Good to see you. I’m sure Y/n informed you of our task today. Very impressed that you offered yourself as the sacrifice to the aliens-” “Wait, what? Y/n?!” “He’s kidding, Peter.”

Everyone in the Avenger’s tower knew Peter was lactose intolerant and knew the repercussions of the boy consuming any sort of dairy

(( he physically cannot leave the bathroom for a full day ))

Yet Loki regularly will swap Peter’s specially labeled almond milk with a jug of skim milk just for the hell of it

There’s something so hilarious to him about the look of panic and alarm that smacks abruptly across Peter’s face as he quickly stumbles out of the kitchen to his room

It keeps him laughing for days

You’ll just shoot your brother a look of disapproval, clearly certain it was his doing

“Loki, why did Peter run off?” “Not sure, darling sister, maybe he’s got one of those stomach bugs. I’ve heard Midgardians are prone to them…weak bodies and such.” "You switched out his milk again didn’t you.” “I haven’t the slightest clue what you’re accusing me of, little one.”

Thor is a bit more hesitant on accepting your relationship with his fellow Avenger

He trusts that Peter would never harm you

Although he did not trust that you would never be harmed because of Peter

It was risky enough that both your brothers were big names in space, as well on Earth, however

Thor knew Loki and himself were capable of protecting you but Peter?

He was just a kid, in Thor’s eyes

However the one thing that kept him from telling you this was seeing how happy Peter made you

As your older brother, Thor trusted your judgement and tried his best to be accepting of his little sister dating

And as much as he wanted to deny it, he saw crystal clear the care and love Peter gave to you and he wasn’t willing to break that for you

Still

Thor is the type of brother to barge into a room and shove himself between Peter and yourself without warning

This man does not care at all

At least Loki has the decency to give you two space as a couple

Thor does not

He is constantly third wheeling on your dates and will ‘accidentally’ walk into rooms he knows you two are in claiming he forgot something

Not that he ever grabs anything,

He’ll usually just stand and stare at the two of you until you either leave the room or ask him to leave

To which he always answers,

“No.”

But with a smile

A smug smile

PDA is something he will never be okay with

Thor will yank Peter back by the collar every time he sees his lips on yours and glare at him, “Man of spiders, I know you’re in love with my little sister but kissing her infront of me is too far.”

And Loki will physically gag just to piss you off

For the most part, your relationship with Peter is nearly perfect

It would be entirely perfect if you weren’t constantly worrying about him dying on a mission or getting hurt

But still, just like any couple, you had your moments

And when you did fight, it was typically over Peter’s safety or him not wanting you to tag along for a mission

Your common way of dealing with conflict was the silent treatment

Which is pure torture for Peter

Not only does he miss the sound of your voice

He misses having you around

Seeing your smile

Hearing you laugh from something he said

He felt terrible everytime

He’d go to Tony for advice and spend hours rambling on to him about how sorry he was for yelling at you and for adding to the fight

Tony would half listen while he worked away on a new system and suit, offering a ‘yeah’ and ‘hmm’ every few seconds which pleased Peter who thought his mentor was fully listening

And after almost two hours of his non-stop talking, Tony Stark had reached his limit

Setting his wrench down on the metal table with a thud he turned around to face the young boy

“Kid, why’re you saying all this to me and not her? I mean, I’m all ears but I’m also not Y/n. I know we’re both good looking so I can see why you mixed us up, but you should be talking to her right now.”

Similar to Peter you also had someone to confide in when the road got rocky

Loki had always been the one you shared all your secrets with

As children you were attached at the hip to both your brothers but Loki a smidgen more than Thor

Your father, Odin, had Thor at his side 24/7 growing up

While he was busy learning the ropes to ruling Asgard, Loki and yourself run amuck causing trouble left and right through the royal palace

Through the years of bonding Loki become your best friend, and you his

So when trouble struck in paradise, your older brother was the one you ran to

He’d welcome you with open arms and a questioning gaze

Loki is by far the best listener in your family

Instead of telling you what to do, he asks what you want, which is a refreshing change

After a long talk with Loki you’d search the tower high and low for Peter while ironically Peter was doing the same thing

When you did finally make-up, it felt like coming home

The apologies were so sincere and genuine

You’d end up having a sleepover in your room watching 80’s films that Peter claimed were ‘iconic’ and laying in his arms

And that’s where you felt complete

Fights never occurred often but bickering ???

DAILY

You two bickered playfully over everything under the sun

Like who’s the better superhero; Ironman or Captain American

Or

Debates between living in New York and living in Asgard

Loves to pull up Midgardian inventions and ask you to guess what it is “Princess, what do you think this is?” “Oh! Oh! I’ve seen this one! Tony has one in his kitchen!” “Okay, so what is it?” “Yes, it’s a chicken nugget maker!” “It’s actually an air fryer but we only ever make chicken nuggets in them so I’ll give you a half point.”

Peter sneaking out of your room at the crack of dawn and sprinting to his

As much as Thor and Loki liked him and supported the relationship

He was sure they’d both team up to murder him if they caught him sleeping in your bed

Steve and Tony, who seem to be incapable of sleep, have watched him tiptoe out of your room numerous times but they only share a look of amusement then go back to their previous discussion

Playing hide-n-go-seek and tag on rainy days at the tower

Cuddling in Peter’s bed while he asks you to tell him stories about Asgard

Loves hearing about your childhood and what it’s like to grow up with siblings

Is fascinated when you tell him about Heimdall

Stealing Peter’s hoodies

Especially his Midtown High School ones

They’re insanely soft

Sweet little kisses throughout the day

He's just so sweet and gentle

Loves getting to hold you and snuggle in his bed

Most weekends you spend lounging on the couch with Peter’s head in your lap while you play with his hair

Other times you’re sitting next to Peter on his bed watching him play some video game and asking a million questions “Who is that man, Peter?” “That’s me, he’s the main character of the game. That’s Mario, babe.” “You’re not Mario- you’re Peter.” “No, the main character of this game is Mario, I’m just playing him.” “Oh… and what is that green dinosaur creature?” “That’s Yoshi!” “Adorable.”

Making out between games

In terms of... y'know... sex

Neither of you were keen on rushing the process

You had tip toed on the line multiple times yet never fully crossed it

Until you had decided to make the first real move after being together for about five months

You trusted him with all your heart so it wasn't exactly scary, but rather exciting

He had a way of making you feel safe, comfortable, and loved all at once

Lets be honest, Peter nearly fainted the first time he saw you naked

And still, no matter how many times the two of you have sex,

He worships every inch of you like it was your first time all over again

You couldn't have asked for a better lover

Dating Peter means a new adventure everyday

You’re constantly learning new things about each other and from each other

Despite coming from two very different worlds

You’ve never felt more connected to a soul until Peter came along

#peter parker imagine #Peter parker #Peter Parker imagines #tom holland #tom holland imagines #tom holland imagine #loki #thor #thor odison imagine #thor odinson #loki layfeyson imagine #loki layfeyson #thor and loki sister #avenger imagines #the avengers #avengers imagine #marvel #marvel imagine #spiderman #spiderman imagine #spider-man #imagine

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Remember?

Summary- 1.9k Frank Adler x You. Frank wakes you up at the ungodly hour of 3:30 am and will not even tell you why. Written for @stargazingfangirl18​ 5k challenge

Warnings- like... barely there mention hint of smut? But just barely? I cant even count it as a warning to be honest. 

A/N- so yes this is written for a soft!dark challenge, but dark writing just isn't happening. I went with just soft and with the prompt of lazy make out session.I really wanted to make sure I was giving something to Siri’s challenge because she works so hard on providing us wonderful fics to enjoy, is incredibly supportive and honestly she deserves it. Much love always babes and thank you for all you do.  

A/N 2- Can be read as a one shot. It is in the same verse as Oppressive. Also trying out a new site to make moodboards. I kinda like it? what do you all think? And I know the Fort Myers pier is made from concrete, not wood, but I wanted wood. So I went with wood. I always appreciate your thoughts on a fic. Alright, Much Love, Happy Reading! 🌊

“Baby wake up.” You heard a husky whisper in your ear as well as a rough scrape against your shoulder from Franks cheek as he pressed in close to your back, the soft hairs of his chest pressed into your sleepy warm skin and you muttered a no into your pillow as you hid your face into the cotton covers. 

He must be out of his ever loving mind to think you were going to wake up at… a quick peek at the old 80’s looking radio clock Frank loved sitting on his night stand. The red numbers were unfocused at first, but blurry sharpened to three thirty am. Yes, your man was crazy to think you were up for anything at all, and the way he was pressed into your ass cheeks, you suspected he woke up early for sex. 

That was going to be a hell no. “Frank go back to sleep. I will fuck you later.” You promised as you shifted back into your warm safe hollow. He chuckled gruffly and his hands slid on your hips to twist you to fast him, causing you to sigh and blink up at him. In the dark of the room, his eyes were a dull blue shining down at you amused. You though were no in that same mood as you blinked up at him, pushing a hand against his chest. “Come on Frank, I'm not in the mood. I was sleeping so good.” 

“You would think I would wake you up just for sex.” Frank scoffed.

“It wouldn't be the first time.” 

“Probably won't be the last either, but that's not what this is about. Come on Sweetheart, get up. I have a surprise.” He tapped your ass and pulled away as you were groaning, knowing sleep simply wasn't going to happen. 

“Adler, I swear to all that is holy, this better be good.” You grumbled as you sat up and tried to wake up. Frank came back out with some clothing for you, a pair of capris, tee shirt and undergarments. You looked at the casual clothing and arched your brows. “Where are you dragging me?” 

“Its a surprise, trust me, those are appropriate.” He started as he dressed in some old faded blue jeans and grey tee. Wherever he was taking you wasn't going to require dressing up too much, so you just pulled your hair back into a tie, and didn't bother with makeup. He kept glancing at his watch, and by three fifty he had you out the door and to his pickup truck. He tossed a bag in the back and when you went to question it, he shook his head firmly in a no while ushering you into the passenger side. “Part of it, just trust me.” 

“I trust you to have something up your sleeve Adler, considering you know I love my sleep in on Saturday Morning.” You grumbled under your breath. Typically you and Frank slept late Saturdays. Mary would go to Roberta’s Friday night for her weekly sleepover that both woman and child insisted on, you and Frank would go to the local bar for a night of cold drinks, games of pool and the occasional dancing when you could get Frank drunk enough to go on the small dance floor. Simple, but you always had a good time. Saturday was recovery day. 

So why was he dragging you out of bed on recovery day? 

“So a hint?” You decide to pester a bit, sliding closer on the bench seat till you were against his side, his arm circling around your shoulder to tuck you in closer and press a kiss to your temple. You could feel his lips upturned to a smirk against the side of your head. 

“You want a hint… It has to be done early in the morning.” 

You rolled your eyes at him with a huff, dropping your hand to dance your fingers against a jean clad thigh, making his eyes dart down to your hand. “I want better then that.” 

“You are not gonna get it Baby, but you can try your best.” 

He really was being serious this time, because he caught your hand from wandering up to far and brought it to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. 

“Alright Adler, keep your secrets then.” You let your head rest on his shoulder and eyes close. Frank was stubborn, always had been. You knew when you just had to let it go. You drifted in and out as he sped along the interstate. Soon he was turning off, but you weren't quick enough to catch what the exit was, so still had no idea. 

“Are we there?” 

“Close, you don't know where we are?” He asked with a slight laugh in his voice. You shrug a bit as you two are driving down the main drag of the area, passing all night gas stations, fast food chain restaurants, outlet stores and parking lots. 

“No clue, every place in Florida has this Frank.” 

He hummed a bit, slowing to an intersection and flicking on his blinker. “True, but you will soon see.” He winked as he made the turn, pulling away from the city-like area and moving towards the beach strip. Where million dollar homes, hotels, and beach side tourist traps laid quiet in the barely morning hours. It was starting to lighten though, you could see the black blue of the night sky make way for lighter purples and pinks. 

So you remained patient, waiting for wherever Frank was taking you. The terrain started to get sandier, the crack of the window took on a breezy salty scent and you could taste the hint of surf and sand in the air. Your lips turned upwards, just that scent alone reminded you of a couple years ago, and it all clicked right where you were. 

Your first overnight away from home with Frank was to Fort Myers, a small rundown motel on the beach. The room was iffy, the Ac barely worked, neither of you dared to use the pool. At the time it was all you two could afford. And it was all perfect. 

Because that morning, before sunrise, you two escaped to the beach, arm in arm and sat in the dunes to watch the sunrise over the crashing ocean, and all was perfect in the world with each other. 

Frank glanced over to see the knowing look on your face, and his own softened in a smile, his hand coming to grasp the inside of your thigh gently, squeezing. “Now you know?” He pulled into an almost deserted parking lot. At the other end were a group of people, unstrapping their boards to get ready to go into the surf. 

“Of course Frankie.” You said with a touch of sentiment in your tone as you leaned over to peck his lips and nip at him playfully. “How can I forget?” You pull away suddenly and jump out of the car, yanking off your shoes to ditch in the truck. Frank followed, doing the same with his own boots. 

You had already taken off into the sand, making your way towards the surf to dig your feet into the wet sand happily. Now it was getting lighter, those dark purples and pinks made way for the reds and oranges as the barest hint of the sun kissed the horizon. 

Frank came up behind, having managed to yank his jeans up partially around his calves and pressed you two to walk out a bit further into the surf, the salt water spritzing you both in a fine cooling mist, clinging to your skin, in your hair, on your clothes. It all brought back the sensations of that first trip together. You fall back into his chest while he dips his head to mouth kisses into your neck, enjoying the quiet of the moment with you in a more physical way for a moment. Making you tilt your head to the side while the sun finally broke. 

From the nearby pier, heavy pelicans lined the side to swoop down, skimming over the water in lines, giving the two of you a show all for yourselves, among the surf the small sandpipers chased after the tiny ghost crabs trying to escape back into the surf, all of it made you smile. This felt like home to you, right here with Frank. 

“It feels like forever since we have visited.” You finally say as you turn to face Frank, the two of you stepping out of the surf, and hand in hand making your way along the beach's edge towards the pier, the sandpipers running away as fast as they could, a few taking to wing to fly several yards ahead of you to start there search in the surf retreating back from the edge once more. 

“Been a couple years at least. I was looking at the calendar and realized an anniversary of ours was coming up.” He mentioned while you two stepped under the pier. A small private world for you two at the moment as far above you people made their way towards the end stretching out over the water, ready to drip lines for fishing in the surf. Here though, underneath it all, was just for you and Frank. 

Nothing but water crashing to the shore, wood above your heads and the morning bringing back fond memories. Memories of shared kisses against one of the ageless logs helping to hold the deck yards above them steady, the way your legs wrapped around his hips as he pinned you in place and loved you so freely out in the open where they could be caught. How afterwards Frank said those words that he never uttered to anyone else in the way he said it to you. 

Fuck I think I love you. 

You thought then you loved him to. Now you knew you did. Your fingers looped in his belt loops and you walked backwards, till your back pressed once more against that sand and salt aged wood, looking up at him in the now very present dawn. 

“You know Frank, I think I love you.” 

“You know what Y/N, I think I love you too.” He winked, sliding in closer till he was pressed against you, his hands cupping the side of your face and tilting up to meet him, his tongue sliding past soft lips to the sweet heat of your mouth and tangling his tongue with yours. It elicited a soft moan from the back of your throat. 

Warming salty air really agreed with Frank, mixing the tastes on your tongue, you curled your arms around his body, clutching at his back as you now clung to him, thoroughly enjoying the way this kiss made you feel. 

The sensations of love and passion curling in your belly and your heart thud against your breast bone, absorbing into Frank as he pressed into your body, trying to daze you from rational thoughts, away from the everyday thoughts. 

Frank had a talent at making you appreciate the here and now. 

And right here, with sand covering your feet, your shirt and pants clinging to you from the ocean spray and your man completely pressing every ounce of his affection into you, you could do nothing but appreciate being in the moment. 

“Scratch that, I don't think, I know I love you Frank Adler.” You managed to break out of his kiss for half a second. 

“I know you do.” He assured you as he grasped the back of your thighs and lifted you enough to fold your legs around his waist. “I plan on showing you just how I feel.” He promised, the glint in his ocean blue eyes turning mischievously playful under that pier.

#siris5ksoftdarkchallenge #amber writes #sweater writes #frank adler x reader #frank adler x you #gifted au #frank adler fan fic #chris evans characters #remember? #i have a soft spot for this man #cant change wont change #i love just soft sweet moments for him #and making out under a pier is one of those moments #so lets all just give him love #shall we? #thanks for coming to my soft moment

[pappa-molly]

I know I don't use this platform much, anymore, let alone make original posts, but I need to share this in a place that won't end up in my ex's inbox, courtesy of our mutual friends.

A handful of months ago, I ended a relationship.

I know it isn't kosher to compare your current partner to your previous ones, but I can't help it. I'm constantly brought to tears because of how loved I feel. Here's what I mean:

🚩 My last partner never let me listen to my music in the car. He would skip a song on his phone if I was singing along. He would come into the bathroom to turn down my shower tunes because "there's no reason I should hear that from the living room."

🏁 My current partner took me on a 5+ hour roadtrip and let me pick the music the whole way there and back, singing to the songs he recognized.

🚩 My previous partner and I went on one trip in 4 years and it gave way to a traumatizing series of events for me. There were fits of jealousy over my best friend of 5 years (who wasn't even present).

I believe a lot of his jealousy stemmed from the fact that we were in a poly relationship and he was insecure that he was able to provide enough for me and his other girlfriend, simultaneously.

I tried to reassure him frequently that he was enough for me, but he always believed I was seeking more, which was never the case. The fact that I was pansexual just meant *everyone* else was a threat to him.

🏁 My current partner trusts me. He doesn't question my loyalty. I live with a male best friend of mine and have for several years. He has never asked if there was anything going on between us, or if there ever has been (which is a solid no).

🚩 I got lost in an amusement park for several hours with no phone and no clue where we parked (because I never predicted being alone, which was my fault because I stormed away from him crying to find a bench to sit on and collect myself, but he wasn't there when I came back.)

When I found him, after hours of being alone and terrified, still panicking, he threatened to leave me there, in another state, unless I got my shit together.

🏁 My current partner always made sure to ask me if I had my phone on me in case we got separated, and he was never far. He was always waiting for me to come around the corner from whatever I was exploring.

🚩 My last partner's birthday was 2 days after mine. He would get upset when my friends would try to celebrate my birthday without making him a priority. My birthday celebration ended when the day ended. Every day thereafter was about him and making him happy.

🏁My current partners birthday was today [2/3] (mine is 3 months from now). All week, he has been fighting me, trying to GIVE me HIS birthday.

Me: "What do you want for your birthday?"

Him: "It's not my birthday, is yours. Happy birthday!! You want this? What about this? What do you want to eat? You want cake?"

I thought my ex was my soulmate.

Not in the sense that he was the one that would make me happy the rest of my life,

but because he had convinced me that I deserved that.

I know someone else out there needs to hear this...

You deserve better. Someone out there just wants you to be happy and would do anything to make it so.

Do not let yourself be convinced that the time you have invested in that relationship has weight over the pain you've endured.

Your feelings are valid.

You should never settle for a partner that is less than that,

A partner.

You deserve someone who-

Loves to hear you sing, because they know it means you're expressing yourself

Encourages you to maintain healthy relationships with anyone important to you

Who thinks of you the moment you're gone

Someone who puts you before themselves, as you would do for them.

Don't let your partner determine what you deserve.

You are human.

You deserve freedom.

You deserve trust.

You deserve love, in it's purest and most selfless form.

Please trust me when I say this,

You deserve better

and someone else is out there hoping to find someone just like you.

#red flags #relationship #polyamarous #therapy #love #couple #trauma #dating #cute #in love #breakup #break up #end

[redux-iterum]

A Kindling: Chapter One

(AO3 counterpart here.)

Rusty jerked awake and banged his head on the bottom of the armchair he lay under.

His immediate reaction was to hiss and duck down again, silently bemoaning each residual wave of pain between his ears. The armchair, just tall enough to allow him space to crawl underneath, shifted above him. The top of his human’s head appeared upside-down to peer at him curiously, mane dragging on the floor. He blinked at them and they chuffed, eyes crinkled, before the head disappeared again.

Rusty waited for the last achy throb to fade away before he crawled out from underneath the armchair, stopping to stretch between his human’s feet and shake his fur out to the irritating dinging of the bell on his collar. He felt fingers gently scratch at his neck and between his shoulders, to which he responded with an obligatory purr. The fingers lifted away as the human trilled something in a high pitch. Rusty’s pelt brushed against one of their legs as he turned and headed for the next room.

His food was still there, in its bowl. Rusty ignored it completely, even as his stomach gave a hint of a growl. The stuff tasted terrible and never seemed to make him full. Not for the first time, he reminisced about his last home, where he had been given something soft and much more delicious.

His mind started wandering on the topic of new and old sensations, as it always did, and he distantly felt his feet carrying him through the overly-warm kitchen and to the flap in the door he’d learned to use on his first few days in this house. He barely paid attention to where he was going; he was in the throes of his dream, before he had been startled into the waking world.

It was always the same: he would be prowling through a place he had never been, yet felt right at home in. The place changed every time he dreamed. Sometimes the grass was tall enough that he had to rear up to see ahead, sometimes it was unending stone formations that curved oddly smoothly and arched above his path. Usually…

Rusty pushed through the flap into the night, walked across the yard with cut grass that irritated his pawpads, and leaped onto chairs and pots until he was at the top of the fence that separated him from the outside world.

Usually, it was what he saw ahead of him—a thick forest, so dense with trees and ferns and bushes that it was impossible to track any potential trails to follow, and rich with the scents of the wild. Even from this distance, through the dark and the petrichor from the rain, those scents seemed to find him at all times of the day and night.

Rusty breathed deep, enjoying the freshness of the damp earth and the many, many smells he could not identify from the forest. It was close. Very close—

“There you are!”

Rusty blinked in surprise and turned his head to see another kitten in the next yard, who did a much less graceful job of getting up onto his fence, scrabbling and puffing for air every time he had to heft his considerable weight to meet with his friend.

“I didn’t think you’d be out this late, Smudge,” Rusty said once he had finally sat down on the rail and was catching his breath.  

“Well, I was looking for you all day,” Smudge said, letting out one final huff before sitting up straight. “Were you inside the entire time? What were you doing?”

“Ehm…” Rusty cocked his head sideways a little in thought. “Sleeping, I guess. I was having a lot of nice dreams. I suppose I didn’t want to wake up.”

“Very unlike you, bud.” Smudge gave him an amused look. “Even the old homebody down the way asked where you were today. He said you weren’t around to scare his prey off.”

Rusty snorted. “He’s never caught a thing in his life and we all know it.”

“Well, neither have we,” Smudge said. “Just a matter of time with you, though, I suppose.”

Rusty frowned. “You could catch something one day, too—”

Smudge blinked slowly, unimpressed, and motioned with a paw to his own chest and belly. He was quite different from Rusty—black-and-white and much softer and rounder. He looked like how he lived, never moving far from his bed and food bowl if he could help it.

Rusty, ginger and much wirier, persisted. “Still, you never know.”

“S’pose we don’t.” Smudge glanced out at the forest before them. “Though I wouldn’t dare try, myself. Not over there, anyway, since you keep looking that way.”

“There aren’t really any other places to hunt, though,” Rusty said. “Unless we wanted to go—”

“’We’,” Smudge muttered.

“’We’.” Rusty nodded. “Unless we wanted to go further into the neighborhood and try that park.”

“Eh.” Smudge rolled a shoulder like the very idea of walking that far pained his limbs. “There’re probably ferals out there too.”

Rusty did not respond to this. He was looking back into the forest, thinking. He’d heard stories of feral cats living in those woods—wild giants that lined their borders with the fur of trespassers and ate the bones of helpless kittens and house cats. He’d been warned many times by the adults in his neighborhood to stay away from them, and to run as soon as he saw a hint of their eyes or caught the scent of strange plants and cut wood (whatever that smelled like, he wasn’t sure). Apparently there were even more feral colonies far away, but he knew nothing about them. What everyone was concerned about was the group in the forest.

“Mind a nibble on your thoughts?” Smudge said, jerking Rusty back to the present.

“Just—” Rusty looked between his friend and the woods. “Just wondering what’s in there.”

“Probably nothing good.” Smudge wrinkled his nose distastefully. “A bunch of mud and bullies, I’ll bet.”

“Really?” Rusty looked at Smudge sideways, head tilted a little. “I’ll bet there’s a lot of prey and adventures waiting past those trees.”

“Ohhh,” Smudge said with a grand sarcasm. “Lots of good times in there?”

“All of the good times,” Rusty returned. “And if there are cats, I’ll bet they’re not as bad as everyone says.”

Smudge huffed an amused breath. “Tell you what, you bring one back for me to see myself, one that’s real nice and friendly, and I’ll personally take you to the park tomorrow.”

A spark of something lit up Rusty’s mind. “You know, I might take you up on that.”

All of Smudge’s snarky demeanor vanished in an instant. “Rusty, I was joking.”

“Well, I’m not.” Rusty bunched up and looked over the fence, eyeing the best place to land.

“Don’t—” Smudge puffed up out of the corner of his eye and his volume rose. “Rusty, don’t.”

“No, no, we have a bet.” Rusty jumped and landed with, he proudly noted, barely a stumble. “I’ve got to go find you a feral.”

“They’ll eat you alive!” Smudge protested, looking genuinely anxious. “Come back here! I wasn’t even serious!”

“See you in a while, Smudge!” Rusty called over his shoulder, and started off at a trot through the soft, uncut grass.

“Rusty!” Smudge shouted, but Rusty didn’t look back. He simply padded along, ignoring his friend’s yells, only pausing for an instant as he hit the treeline before pushing his way past a fern. The forest swallowed him and Smudge’s voice faded away.

Rusty stopped a few steps in, eyes wide. The trees, he knew, were always taller than the houses, but up close they seemed to scratch the sky—he wasn’t sure he was even able to see their peaks from here. Some smaller forms of them, much more delicate and thin, fought their way out of the brush that covered almost every bit of ground. The ferns, soft and broad and fringed, took up what the brush didn’t, and patches of incredibly soft grass soaked up what little moonlight they could catch. Everything was vibrant, fresh, alive.

More than that, though, were the scents, so numerous and strong that they threatened to knock Rusty off his feet. Even the trees clouded his nose, and he understood instantly what smells the adults were talking about. The ferns and grass were almost delicious, and the packed soil under his paws smelled not only of rain, but of something that made Rusty’s stomach growl. Something like what he had eaten in his old home.

He wanted to find it.

Without quite understanding what he was doing, Rusty lowered his body into a half-crouch and he tried to pinpoint the scent past all the others. Experimentally, he opened his mouth, and the air brought him a taste that seemed to be coming from his right. He sniffed, turning slowly, ears swiveling.

Something rustled in the ferns, and something else lit up in his head.

Very slowly, very carefully, Rusty moved forward, trying to track the scent as he went. His shoulders brushed against the fronds, but luckily, they made no sound (“Luckily?” What was he trying to sneak up on?). He cursed in his head when his feet shifted the soil and the rustling stopped. He paused, and the rustling eventually continued, as did he.

He closed in on this unknown target, until he ducked below a fern that was blocking his view. In a little clear patch of ground, he could see something tiny and brown scuttling back and forth, digging at the earth or chewing on grass. It had a long, naked tail and wide ears, and Rusty had a vague idea of what it was supposed to be, based on a toy he had at home that looked about the same, save being much more brightly colored.

Again, not having a clue why, Rusty crouched further, eyes focused on the animal. He kept as still as possible, waiting for an opportunity to… do something. The animal was entirely unaware of him. He lifted one paw and took a step, pulling himself closer.

The bush ahead of him violently shook and the animal darted into the undergrowth.

Rusty straightened up, greatly annoyed. He glared at the bush, now catching a scent of something else. Something that was also familiar, but still as new as the rest of this forest. And, going by the continued shaking, something quite large.

Rusty had a faint idea that he should probably run.

#warrior cats #warriors redux iterum #iterum #chapter #chapter one #book one #arc one #a kindling