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wallwriterstuff · 3 years

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Our Dearest Moments ||Alec Volturi x Reader||

Warnings: None, this is nice and fluffy

Words: 2964

Summary: A request for @royalvolturisblog Forever is a long time to live, an occasionally a little reflection upon who we are and how we got here is needed to maintain our sanity, and decided some very important answers to equally as important questions.

Sometimes, life is not all we expect it to be. Sometimes, life is cruel. Sometimes, life is disappointing. For me? I can safely say it’s none of these things. My life had always been easy, the best of everything and wanting for nothing. As doting as he was, my father had spoilt me rotten and never let me work hard for anything, never given me life skills that most normal people would need to live a functioning, adult existence. Why would I need them? Money was not a problem for my family nor would it ever be, so why go to the hassle of building a life where a nine to five job sapped the life from me when I could, quite sustainably, simply enjoy my life to its fullest at my loving father’s expense? Why make your child work if there was no need? I would not settle for a subpar life as nothing in my life had ever been less than luxurious.

That was my life in a nutshell. It was flat screen TVs in a ginormous bedroom which would have fit some people’s houses inside it, four poster beds and every new games console, every makeup palette fresh off the manufacturers line and vacations to the most remote and lavish corners of the Earth. I never even had to ask for some of it, my father simply expected I would want things and provided them without request – as those of guilt soul are wont to do.

“Well? What do you say?” Alec asked, his lips pressing the gentlest of kisses against my shoulder. I hummed, leaning back against him.

“Forgive me, I was hardly listening to a word you said, my mind is…elsewhere.” I admitted. Alec squeezed my hips, arms widening around my waist to tighten his hold on me.

“You’re ignoring me now? How very rude. I thought we were passed this.” He chided, though his tone was more playful than scolding.

“Call it introspection.” I sighed. Alec chuckled.

“Introspection? Now that sounds dangerous. I happen to like you as you are, if you haven’t noticed.” He teased, pressing a kiss to my temple. I turned in his arms with a smile. He stood a little taller than I did but I didn’t mind; it always gave me the best angle of the soft curve of his jawline, the fullness of his lips that didn’t like to stray from my own for too long. It also gave me the perfect excuse to nestle my head against his collarbone, escape those all seeing crimson eyes of his. Alec had seen right through me from the very start.

“I happen to know, you inform me every day…you sap.” I smiled a little as he lifted a hand to play with my hair.

“Then why decide to be introspective? What is there to reflect on? What would you wish to change?” he questioned.

“I already have changed,” I pointed out, lifting my hand to play with his coven crest, “I actually work for a living now.” Alec actually laughed at that, pulling back to feign shock.

“You? Spoilt? I would never have guessed.” he teased. He wasn’t wrong. Even now my room was lavish, silks and fine fabrics and luxuries filling every corner, but at least this time I had worked for it. Being a part of the Volturi was a privilege in itself but it required hard work, it required proving your worth and working for the greater good of your species. It was rather odd, how I had turned my entire life philosophy around in the span of a few centuries. Maybe it was Alec, making me humbler and wiser. Perhaps I owed some of it to Vladimir and Stefan, who had taught me to fight for what I wanted rather than throw money at it. I could still remember that fateful day, though faces and names were murky now in my ‘old age’.

Samuel and Scott were two boys I had craved the presence of a lot in my human days, though I couldn’t honestly tell you why anymore. Perhaps it was the familiarity of money, or the comfort that came from knowing someone of your status and experience walked alongside you and understood your world view, but they were the closest friends I had for a long time. What was better than going on vacation with your friends at the closing of exam season? Rome had been beautiful, the sights enamouring and the food…I suppose it was okay – my tastebuds had changed since then. I could still vividly recall the kind of heat I wasn’t accustomed to back home, and the dazzling brightness of the sunlight that spotted my vision and made my ever blurry human memories seem even worse quality somehow. I also remembered laughter, and warmth, the kind of warmth that flooded your soul and felt like a good hug on the worst of days. It was strange, the things that stayed with you.

Then there was too much warmth. The process to immortalise one’s body came at the cost of burning the eternal soul till only a shell was left behind, petrified and cold. That was how Stefan put it at least in his usual, grim way. The memories of my time with them had most certainly been the most vivid, since I was very much a vampire by then and I could remember every little glance, every change in the tone of their voice. Those days….those days were full of anger. My doting father taken from me, my best friends none the wiser as to where I had gone and yet never once pleading on the news for my safe return as most others did for their loved ones. Through time and trial and error, Vladimir and Stefan had shown me that I had actually lost nothing in this life, only gained. I was stronger, swifter, better than any human version of myself could ever be.

Then came the gift.

It had been purely accidental at first. Another boy taken in by Stefan only to be turned (in what I would later find out was an attempt at raising a small army) was similarly gifted. He had the quite remarkable ability to make anything he touched smaller or larger, depending on what he wished it to look like, and unintentionally I had taken his gift to use for myself. He hadn’t stayed much longer after that, Vladimir and Stefan reluctant to let him part but allowing it – only because they knew the Volturi would send the Guard after an unruly newborn causing havoc. Why should they need him when they had me? They had been the ones to train my gift, an enhanced trait from my human life they had said – as I had taken what I wanted then I could do so now with startling efficiency. By the time Alec had arrived I had not truly gotten it under control, hence my confrontation with Jane.

It turns out the unruly newborn had been smarter than we thought, and the Masters’ had dispensed the Guard to see about this gifted vampire the Romanian’s had collected. At this point it had been months since we’d even seen the boy, years since Vladimir and Stefan had stolen me from Rome’s streets on one of their daring missions taking them close to Volturi territory. My gift had made me indispensable to them, though I like to believe that on some level they cared for me as a person, given all the gifts and birthday celebrations they had indulged in for me. There had been trips and movie nights all at my request, and affectionate gestures such as hugs and chaste kisses to my forehead that had lulled me into the false sense of security that I was where I ought to be.

“Your mind keeps wondering. I happen to be trying to ask you a very important question.” Alec was sounding a tad frustrated with me now and my eyebrows furrowed.

“I’m sorry, really, I just…do you ever have one of those days where you feel like you can’t escape thinking about the past? Thinking about the things that led you to this moment?” I sighed. It was perhaps a tad dramatic, perhaps even silly of me to be this distracted by such errant thoughts, but they wouldn’t leave me be. Alec stared at me for a long moment, and then he tucked a lock of stray hair behind my ear and swept me off of my feet to seat us on the sofa before our fireplace. Draped across his lap as I was, he had made me his sole focus and gave me his undivided attention now.

“I can’t say I do, so explain it to me. What are you thinking of in particular?” he questioned. My head tilted slightly, the briefest of smiles tugging at my lips.

“Demetri fixing up his nose the day we met.” I giggled. Alec snorted, eyes rolling.

“Vladimir did hit him rather hard.” He agreed. The commotion hadn’t much bothered me, my head buried too deep in my book to really be bothered by such trivial things, but then he had screamed. It was a blood-curdling kind of scream, the sort you heard in slasher movies when the victim is disposed of. It was the first time I had seen Jane’s gift in action, and the only time since I had stolen it. I had only meant to shove the menacing little blonde away from the man I had grown to see as a second father, only to accidentally set her own gift on her. She had crumpled like a straw doll, screaming all the while, and anyone else who came at me went down the same way.

Felix, Demetri and Jane just writhed on the stone floor while I tried and failed to keep Alec at bay, the mate bond I had unknowingly just set with him the moment we locked eyes preventing me from hurting him and vice versa. His mist had danced at the edges of my feet as he gave me more warnings than I was sure was customary of a Guard with his reputation until I managed to calm the raging inferno in my own mind, and douse the flames in theirs.

“Then you misted me.” I recalled, scowling at him slightly. Alec looked amused.

“You were getting rather violent,” he pointed out, “I’d merely suggested an even trade, their lives for you accompanying us to Volterra, and poor Demetri lost his nose a second time that day.” I could still recall the crunch of his skin beneath my knuckles as I vowed to never let them take me anywhere, and now two centuries on I couldn’t bear the thought of being anywhere other than in Alec’s lap. His hand skimmed my arm as I dropped my head on his shoulder.

“You think he would forgive me for that by now.” I said. Alec chuckled and kissed my forehead.

“Not in a million years, his ego is more fragile than his nose.” He murmured against my skin. I hadn’t been happy for a very long time after that. Dragged away from my home against my will and told it was all for a mate bond I hadn’t been ready to accept. I was cruel, very cruel, and I called Alec all sorts of filthy names. Neither him nor Jane had ever really done me wrong, yet still I rarely addressed them as anything other than ‘witch’ or ‘terrors 1 and 2’. I spent the majority of my days avoiding as many people as I could really, though I found Marcus to be quite calming and consequently ended up with the Masters’ more often than not. It was with their encouragement I ended up confronting my two-arch nemesis, their gentle prodding that had led me into Alec’s arms in the end.

“God I’m sure your mother would weep if she could see you now!”

“She did! She wept and pleaded with the villagers tying us to the stake until they caved her head in with stones. How about yours?”

I cringed slightly, the memory as fresh as if it had been just yesterday. Jane had looked ready to roast me that day, while Alec had cut me down to size with his words. Their mother’s fate, their deaths, they were nothing such of tragic incidents that should never have occurred, not to these two. It had triggered a memory I had thought had faded as most other human memories had, though I could see no eyes in the soft, familiar features of my mother’s face given I couldn’t remember the colour of them. She had been reaching for me in my dreams for years, that single bloodied hand protruding from the wreckage of a car only I had escaped from haunted me to this day. How far I had strayed from the woman she would have wanted me to become.

“How could you forgive me?” I asked finally. Alec raised his eyebrows.

“For punching Demetri in the face? Quite easily. I found it entertaining.” He answered.

“Not for that! For…everything else. I was nothing short of difficult and downright cruel to you.” I reminded him. Alec tilted his head, quietly making a noise of understanding. It wasn’t so long ago Alec had asked me to marry him, at least, five years didn’t seem all that long for a vampire. He shifted till I was facing him, straddling his lap and chest to chest with our noses almost touching.

“I forgave you because I loved you, even then. I didn’t see cruelty, I saw hurt that never truly healed. Our scarred hearts were made for one another, even if you weren’t ready to accept it.” He murmured.

“But all those awful names I called you…” I sighed, closing my eyes as shame ate away at my insides. Alec chuckled.

“Some were quite inventive, I’ll give you that,” he said wryly, “Y/N…you replaced every bad memory with a good one. The time you gifted me that bookmark because you knew how much I loved to read? The memory of our first walk in the Garden’s together where you taught me all about gardening and when the best time of year to plant certain flowers was. Our first kiss, the first time you held my hand even. You made the effort to make it right.” He kissed my nose sweetly before capturing my lips with his. His every kiss had been intoxicating since our very first one, the sweet taste of his mouth on mine addictive, the way his lips moved a hypnotic dance I could forever get lost in performing with him over and over. When we parted I pressed my forehead to his.

“I do love you, you know.” I swore. Alec flashed me a smile.

“I know, you impossible little brat,” he teased, tugging my hair lightly, “Now will you please listen to what I’ve been so desperately trying to ask you all day now?” My eyes rolled, but I nodded.

“Make it worth my while, baby.” I teased.

“Don’t, you know I hate when you call me that,” he warned, though his lips twitched upwards, “Y/N, my impossibly stubborn, talented little beauty. I’ve never been in doubt you love me, and I hope I’ve never given you reason to doubt that I love you just as much. You challenge and enrage me daily, yet you are also my greatest comfort and strength when I need you to be. So stop being so bloody awkward and marry me already!”

“That wasn’t a question.” I pointed out, eyebrows raising. Alec groaned exasperatedly, his head falling back against the back of the sofa. My head tilted slightly.

If my day of reflection had done anything, it was show me how far I had come. I was no longer the same spoiled little girl I had once been. I had become a protector of our kind, and my journey with Alec had humbled my tongue. I was perhaps wiser, far kinder. I had not felt worthy of the mantle before but seeing him beneath me now, my love so ardent in his affection and persistent in his showing of it, I realised I had no need to be afraid – I had proven my worth to Alec tenfold. Gripping his chin, I forced him to look at me. He looked rather frustrated.

“This is the modern era Alec,” I scolded, “I will never say yes to your proposal.”

“But-“

“Because you are going to be saying yes to mine. Marry me, Alec.” I didn’t ask, more stated it. I knew he wouldn’t say no. With another exasperated groan he shook his head.

“You do make me work for it don’t you? So long as I slip a ring on your finger I really don’t care who asks who. Fine, I’ll marry you.” He leaned in but I pressed a single finger to his lips, preventing him from kissing me. His eyebrows arched into his hairline, almost as if to say ‘what now?’.

“It’ll be a Winter wedding.” I decided. A brief smile flashed his lips upwards.

“Spring.” He retorted.

“And the bridesmaids will wear emerald green.” I continued.

“Peach.” He countered, his smile growing as I pulled my finger from his lips.

“Oh and I want diamonds Alec, they’re a girls best friend.” I grinned, our noses brushing now.

“You’ll get a cereal box ring and be happy with it for all the waiting you’ve made me do.” He huffed. I didn’t get to protest, not when he smothered my mouth with his own, both of us laughing as we let the past be and looked forward to our future instead.

#twilight #twilight fanfiction #volturi #alec volturi #x reader #alec volturi x reader #vladimir #stefan #the romanians #dracula 1 and 2

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words-for-holland · 4 years

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Apple Tree Kisses | T.H.

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: The boys take Y/N out for apple picking on their day off. Much fun. Much cuteness. And lots and lots of apples.

A/N: So maybe another mini installment of fall adventures with Tom? Well see how it goes. Hoenstly dont even know I feel about this one lol.

“We’re going apple picking this fall right?” Y/N asked the boys as they all sat down, scrolling through their phone in their cozy Berlin suite. Neither letting out an answer, as they all sighed in unison.

“Right?” Y/N asked again. “Tom, right?” She playfully shoved his shoulder hoping to grab her boyfriend’s attention. Y/N could easily see the slight smirk that grew on his face. Of course, Tom was never one to ignore his girlfriend, but he loved to tease her when it came to doing things she really wanted to do. In all the years they’ve been together, he knew Y/N was the most indecisive person in the world but when she knew what she wanted...she knew exactly what she wanted and would go the distance to get it.

“Mmm I dont know Y/N. We might be busy.” He chuckled, his pink sleeves engulfing Y/N in a cozy bear hug.

“Cmonnn. It’ll be fun. We cant miss it this year. It’s tradition.” She reasoned.

“I know Darling. Soon. I promise.” Tom gave her a chaste kiss on her slightly chapped frown, which slowly turned into the smile he always loved to see.

Needless to say, soon came a lot faster than Y/N anticipated. As she wrapped up a few emails from work, Tom, Harry, and Sam stood before her, leaning over the table, giving the Goofy Holland smile. “Whats up with you three?” Y/N giggled.

“We’re going on a trip. So you better get ready.” Sam answered as he walked away.

“Better hurry up before we leave you.” Harry joked around as he made his way out as well.

“I do suggest you wear something cute. I mean, you always look cute. You’re perfect, but Im just saying that red plaid shirt you got in the closet...just does things to me.” He groans, making his way to their room to get ready as well.

Y/N playfully rolls her eyes and scoffs out a chuckle. Of course all the boys finished up before her as they head to the car waiting for Y/N. She appears, wearing Tom’s suggestion with a white top undeneath the plaid shirt and black leggings, opening the door and sitting beside her giddy boyfriend, who was smiling from ear to ear. He sported a denim jacket and pants with a white shirt underneath and navy blue baseball hat, much like his character Arvin from Devil All the Time. Of course Tom very well knew, this look did things to Y/N after the first time she saw the film with him, making comments about how hot he looked as a southern bad boy. “Well you’re looking mighty fine there miss.” Tom flirts, displaying his southern accent for Y/N.

“Why thank you kind sir. You’re not too bad yourself.” She responds back, smirking at his comment. Tom leans in quickly to give her a small peck...only to go back in for another. And another..and another...

“Ugh, can we save the flirting and snogging till after the car ride. Please. Im trying to keep my lunch down for the next hour.” Harry groaned in the front seat.

“Sorry Harry.” The love birds mumble as they sit in their respective seats.

For those wondering, Harry did indeed survive the hour drive while keeping his lunch in tact. The group arrived at the German apple orchard called Alstead farms where they were dropped off at front.

Y/N took in her surroundings. Seeing the fall foliage, with autumn colored leaves sprinking the walkways, the sounds of the busy stands of food and fresh produce, the smell of freshly fried apple cider donuts it reminded her exactly why fall was her favorite season.

“Cmon darling, you’re supposed to be day dreaming about me not those apple cider donuts.” Tom teases as he grabs her hand in his.

“Trust me mate, I wouldnt blame Y/N if she was. Those donuts were absolutely amazing..” Sam muffled as he shoved another donut in his mouth.

“Oi, you already got yours?! And didnt even bother to share?” Harry questioned as he tried to grab the crumbled bag of sugary goodness.

Sam rolled his eyes at he reluctantly lent his last donut to his brother. The four grabbed their wagon, maps, and bags, ready to gather as much apples as they could. They went row by row, picking up macintosh, fuji, honey crisps, and empires. They tasted each one closing their eyes in delight, and scrunching their faces with ones that werent so sweet.

Harry took pictures of the surrounding and as he turned around he was given the perfect angle to capture a sweet moment between Tom and Y/N.

The two had their hands interlaced as they admired one tree with golden hues on the apple. Tom leaned in towards Y/N’s ear as he told her a funny apple pun, kissing the top of her head. When Y/N turned around to hear the clicks of the camera, she proceeded to cross her eyes and stick her tongue out.

“Thats attractive.” Harry comments with a hint of sarcasm as he looks through his camera. They all knew how camera shy Y/N got when she was aware of her picture being taken. In her words, posing for the camera while acting natural, made her feel like an awkward deer that’s about to get run over over....Dont ask, its a long story. “Okay, wait the lighting and this tree is perfect though. I want you and Tom up on that tree.” He commanded as he pointed at the sturdy tree with curly branches.

“Uhh...you sure about this?” Y/N asked, in an apprehensive tone. “What if I fall?”

“Oh c’mon darling you know I wont let you.” Tom said as he grabbed her hand to reassure you. “I’m not gonna let you fall. Ill hold on to you the entire time.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Sam, hold the apples for them and I’m begging you to please not eat my share.” Harry groaned at the thought.

Tom and Y/N had situated themselves on the tree not as high up from the ground as they had anticipated. At first they took a photostanding up. Tom towering over her as he stepped onto the higher branch, one arm hanging on the branch above him and another holding onto Y/N’s hand. They smiled and looked into each others eyes completely forgetting that they were on a tree and Harry was taking their pictures. Y/N took his navy hat and placed it on her own as they laughed. Tom licked his lips at the sight and couldnt help but to lean in, “You look so hot right now.”

“Oh god, stop you know thats not true.” Y/N giggles as her cheeks are tinted with a light pink blush. Tom continued to look at her smiling, and buting his lips. He really couldnt contain himself when she was acting this adorable. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you want to eat me.”

Tom laughs out loud at her comment. “But I kinda do...like everyday.”

“TOM WERE IN PUBLIC!” She squeals covering face.

“Okay love birds, stop the flirting and give me one more pose. If you can manage just kiss each other without falling, I think it’d be perfect.” Harry instructs.

“Dont have to tell me twice, brother.” Tom replies as he looks down at Y/N, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Tom he said kiss not snogg, dont get any ideas. We’re in public!” Sam yelled out.

“You three are such debbie downers, I swear.” Tom pouts.

“Yeah yeah, come on lover boy.” Y/N says curling her index finger to gesture him to lean forward. Tom happily accepts, as he leans down pressin his lips against her soft glossed ones. They stayed like this for sometime, feeling the slight tingles that came with it. Slowly...so very slowly did they pull away, but only for Tom to come in for two small pecks...three...well maybe four...Okay five but that was it.

“Wow...these actually came out good.” Harry said atonished by how well he captured the sweet moment between his brother and Y/N. Tom who was very excited to see how their came out, jumped down from the tree as he made his way towards Harry. Meanwhile Y/N took her time trying to make sure she didnt completely fall off the tree. Sam was watching Y/N as he had his phone recording her. He didnt think there would be much but knowing how clumsy she was anything was game.

She was barely 2 feet off the ground, but for some reason it felt like the empire state building. “Wha-Okay.” She speaks out as she takes a leap of faith. Y/N sticks the landing, she walks toward Sam, Tom, and Harry with confidence that only lasted 0.5 seconds.

Thump

“WHAAA.” Y/N sqeuals, as the branch hits her straight on the face.

While all three boy were heavily concerned, they couldnt help but laugh so hard at what happened to poor Y/N.

“IM SO GLAD I GOT THAT ON VIDEO.” Sam yells out, tears of laughter streaming down his face.

“My god that was priceless. Please send that to me.” Harry says emoting the same expression as his twin brother.

“Darling, are you okay?” Tom says stifling a laugh, as he checks her precious face. “How did you manage to hit the tree?”

“Honestly I dont know.” She cries laughing. “These things just happen.”

“It’s okay.” Tom places feather light kisses on the corner of her eye. “C’mon lets get you an apple cider donut.”

“This is going on instagram I hope you know that.” Harry yells out as the couple walks away.

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader

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paint-lady · 3 years

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hey, if you don't mind, i want your advice: i'm going to be running a chronicle set in chicago (i am using the chicago by night 5e book) for players who are new to vampire for the most part in a few days and i can't For The Life of Me to come up with an interesting chronicle hook (yeah i have read the hooks in the book). any ideas/suggestions/general advice?

Hiya! I could talk your ears off on how I write my chronicles- so hopefully I have taken all my processes and reduced it down to a lovely World of Darkness jam.

Here are two good hooks I just came up with- feel free to use them! The third is what I got for my first chronicle, and I just think its a narrative that works very well for new players.

>Option 1: Guilty Until Proven Innocent ”Chicago is a series of paradoxes and transitions, of ever changing paradigms and whimsy,” (CbN 47). Have your coterie be newbies to the city. Ask why they have come to Chicago. Power? A new start? Perhaps this is a political arrangement between the clan of one city with another. Whatever their reason, they have arrived right when a Primogen vanishes- and guess who is first on the suspect list? The fresh faces on the streets >:) The coterie, having barely settled, has to suddenly prove their innocence. And finding evidence lets them uncover something much more sinister....

This one is ideal for new players as it sets everyone on an equal footing. Even if they create a character that has been a vampire for 50+ years and has amassed several dots of influence, herd, status- whatever, they are still new to the city. And being new means you have to start all over again. (This may be frustrating to a player that invested all those points at character creation- but it is on you as the ST to make sure they have opportunities to use those dots and on them as a player to think cleverly.)

Starting the tale off with defending their innocence is actually a very engaging questline. It effectively sets the stage for the political powerhouses. It lets new players know there are rules- and those in power are watching. It also sets the consequences for failure. Understand that the Camarilla probably isnt going to outright kill the coterie if they fail- always make the punishment just harsh and grueling enough to make final death feel like a mercy. Failure isn’t the end of the story.

For new players- I would be lenient with the time it takes for them to find evidence. But within reason. Think like your Prince and Seneschal. Do you really want this coterie running around for a full week, unsupervised, making more messes? No. You don’t. (You might wanna send an npc with them to watch and keep em out of trouble. Your npc is also able to vouch for them.)

This story lends itself to be a Camarilla Chronicle very easily. You can go Anarch, but an Anarch leader suddenly vanishing and blaming the newbies is much more quickly going to end with blood spilled. Thank your local sweeper.

> Option 2: Containment Breach Blacksite 24 (Loresheet on page 264) was temporarily occupied by Operation Firstlight. It has now been transformed into a medical research facility. While most kindred of Chicago know of Blacksite 24, they have zero clue what happens inside other than bad news for them- the less they know the safer they are. The chronicle opens with a car crash. The captured soon-to-be coterie was in transit to this feared medical facility. The crash did kill the driver and the agent in charge of transporting them. The crash did not fully break their restraints, but it did enough damage that first responders are freaking out. They are all at hunger 3. The chronicle is a hunt. The coterie should have some knowledge of what had happened to them and how lucky they are to have escaped. Operatives are already on their way to recapture them. They must hide in this city- and do their best to survive and stay out of sight.

The point of this story is to invoke dread. I highly recommend one player either being a thin-blood (or an npc) with the Daydrinker merit, or a player to have a ghoul. If they decide to not have a daywatch, they increase their chance of being found.

This story also sets up a feeling of desperation. They would be willing to take shelter from anyone- anyone. Eventually the other kindred will catch on that these guys are on the run from something. Any sane kindred would toss them out to protect themselves. A compassionate kindred who takes them in will suffer the final death as a compassionate fool- or join them in captivity.

This story lends itself to be an Anarch Chronicle much more easily. This is the time the Camarilla will likely be a bit more paranoid and bloody. While they might not outright kill the coterie- they will send them somewhere that is a death trap. They wont dirty their hands with this. After all, you do not want any evidence to fall into the hands of the SI if you hired the hit.

This story is ideal for newbies without background merits. No allies, no influence, no herd. Let them take more mythic merits such as bloodhound and unbondable (Consider finding some from V20 too! There are some really awesome supernatural merits!). These powers would certainly be more fascinating for a medical team to study- not how many instagram followers they have. This kind of story also lets your players feel more powerful- but out of the loop. It lends itself to them forging alliances and getting caught in one-sided favors a lot more quickly.

The challenging aspect of this story is that is starts with a masquerade breach. New players may not know how to handle such a blatant breach and thats okay. I would let the crash slide- and the Camarilla in the background handles it. Breaches after the crash need to be handled with proper consequences.

> Option 3: New Blood This is what my storyteller did to me and my first time players (and its also very close to the plot of CoNY). We were shovelheads. Embraced to make a huge mess for the Camarilla and die quick deaths. We were all thin-bloods. The last thing the pcs remember is the sweet rush of ecstasy washing over them, before clawing out of the earth and driven mad by an insatiable hunger. The thrill of the hunt, and the sweet, warm blood on their tongue, nothing was going to be better. All three will awake next to each other, surrounded by the corpses they drank dry in their frenzy. What a way to play the name game! The players have three nights were they figure out their new condition or coverup their tracks (if they think to do it). They contend with their hunger and hatred of sunlight, wrestle with accidentally drinking their family member dry. After three nights, the Scourge comes knocking. Rather than outright killed, they are dragged to Elysium. For some reason, they are adopted by an upstanding member of the Camarilla- or the Prince orders a political rival care for them (hoping they fail). The players are the errand childer of this kindred, and slowly they figure out what they have been gathering through all these errands....

This one lets the characters all have the moments where they discover their disciplines and powers- and bestial tendencies. It naturally flows to allow players to slowly discover the rules and mechanics as well. All players must play fledglings for this tale.

This story is much more a personal tale than a political one. Eventually politics makes its way in...but it does not have to be a focus.

This story has less of a hook and more of a “Figure it Out” survival mode until the errands begin. The story is how the character’s react to their condition. It very quickly lends itself to a narrative of finding your own path in the night, rather than mindlessly obeying.

So here are a few questions that I ask myself when crafting a chronicle story:

1. What kind of story do you want to tell? Not asking for a plot hook, I’m asking for a general concept. Is it a tale of good triumphing over evil? (Not necessarily a wrong answer, but if you wanna play good guys...vampire is not the best game for that). Is this a chase? Is this a race against time?

2. How do you want your story to make your players feel? Do you want to tell a story that invokes as much dread as possible in your players? Do you want them to feel ultra powerful? Vampire is both a power fantasy and a dread inducing game- it can do both.

3. If you don’t know what kind of story you want to tell, switch gears to worldbuilding. CbN has so many NPCs with the rumors already written for you. Its your setting, perhaps switch two rumors around with prominent NPCs. Decide which ones are true in your setting- Maybe Primogen Annabell did kill her predecessor. Perhaps the Lasombra are attempting to infiltrate the Camarilla as everyone fears- but no one is able to prove it or stop it. Deciding what is true, false, and undetermined usually blossoms into hooks and stories worth investigating.

4. What is a historical event of the city that the Vampires would have endured/ scars would have remained? For example, in my chronicle set in Richmond, the tale of the Richmond Vampire is true. Depending on who you ask, it is the Camarilla’s best or sloppiest cover up. Have the chronicle coincide with the events and the coterie live through them. No one said this must take place in 2021- you can do 2015, 2008, -hell go back the 1990s. Its actually super fun if you set your chronicle in the 90s and your Malkavian is using phrases from 2020.

5. One of my things I do when writing scenes and moments is play Dread by myself. Dread is a role playing game played with jenga. There are no dice rolls, if you want to attempt something, you have to pull pieces from the tower. If the tower falls, you die. If there is a moment where I really really really dont want to pull from the tower, though the reward for succeeding is so so sweet- I keep the moment. If its really easy to shrug and go eh, I can live without performing that action- go back and rewrite it. If you have no incentive to pull from the tower, why would they?

6. Examine your player’s desires and ambitions- and do not neglect them in your chronicle. The plot wont magically allow all of them to achieve their ambitions. However, provide opportunities for them through the plot. Its on them to strive for what their character wants- its on you to make them struggle but have the path to get there. For example, if a player wants to become a Baron, provide a political opening. Perhaps then by announcing their power, they have made a bigger name for themselves and it has become harder to hide. Perhaps by doing this, the kindred they owe a favor is suddenly much more vocal about it.

Here are some suggestions for handling new players:

> You are going to have to handhold them through some things. New players to vtm won’t be able to see the cascading political web and how the consequences of their actions will ripple into waves. I like to use Wits+Insight and call it Common Sense. Common Sense was a merit in V20- and damn is it WONDERFUL. All they need is just 1 success (they can take half) to have you explain how whatever plan they just thought of is actually a TERRIBLE idea.

> Do your RPG consent list. Know what is safe to discuss and what is off the table. I highly recommend utilizing something my Storyteller used for my first chronicle, and subsequently I use for all my ttrpgs now: Invoking the Veil. The metaphor is that you are slowly lessening the intensity of a scene- as if raising the opacity or looking through layers of fabric. Eventually, there is too much fabric and you can no longer see the scene. If something is too intense, the ST or the player may announce they are invoking the veil. Reduce the scene by lowering music, speaking in third person, or avoiding heavy descriptors. You can reduce it further to just dice rolls. Role play stops, and the consequences of the scene are solely dictated by the dice. Or fade to black. If a player is repeatedly fading to black on something- ask to talk to them about it. Clearly something is too intense and they are not having as much fun as they can. Debriefing after a session is also a good idea. Do something silly! Share and check all the memes in the discord chat. Its important to make sure you and your players know that at the end of the night- its all just a game.

> I find the sabbat and new players don’t tend to mix well. You may absolutely still use the sabbat in your chronicle! But the dogma and philosophical ideals of the sabbat can be offputting and downright upsetting to a first time player. You may absolutely build to it- that’s what I did to my players. And in the moment of the truth, they chose to cling to humanity.

> The taking half mechanic is your friend! V5 says players may announce how many dice they are rolling- and if the dividend is greater than the DC- they auto succeed. This streamlines play. Of course, you as the Storyteller may say this is a roll they are not allowed to take half on. Usually these are contested rolls (combat).

> The three turns and out rule keeps combat intense but not too lengthy. It actually streamlines encounters super super well.

> My ST used a phrase, “The quickest way to kill Cthulhu is to give it a healthbar.” If Methuselahs and Elders are involved in your game- avoid giving them stat blocks. This cultivates a conflict that new players must find a way to overcome without brute force combat. It makes them think critically and defy these super old antagonists through narrative means. This also gets the notion out of your and their heads, “if they die, its over.” Its never that easy. Never.

#steph answers questions #thanks for asking!#vtm #vampire the masquerade #vamp tag #storyteller vibes #ghostravens

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katsukisbeatingheart · 4 years

Text

sing to me

soulmate au where you can hear the songs stuck in your soulmate’s head. the closer you are to them the quieter the music becomes, before the voice changes altogether.

word count: 2,440

a.n.: helo i have a few of these typed up and a few others in progress explicitly for soulmate aus. it’s the least angsty one so far so here you go friends.

(psst here’s dabi’s)

(psst here’s sero’s)

(psst here’s bakugou’s)

listen while you read 👉👈

ao3

Shinso Hitoshi did not sing, and isn’t the type to give even so much as a hum. But when he did—of his own volition, mind you—he never did so in front of people.

Which is how he knew this soulmate bullshit might not actually be all that contrived.

Sometimes he’d catch himself embarrassingly humming or whistling in public—usually to the absolute amusement of his friends and family—stuck with songs in his head he hadn’t even ever heard of. And it was in times like that he’d begin singing something ridiculous back, as his own petty way to clearly say ’stop’.

When the music would disappear, he’d chuckle lightly to himself and continue about his day.

Only to fall asleep that night to you whispering sweet, sweet literal nothings from the far side of his mind. Barbie Girl was a slap and a half, but if he had to check out with it rolling around in his head at two a.m. for the third night in a row, he’d dedicate his waking hours to annoying the hell out of you.

See how you liked it being startled awake—hopefully, he wasn’t 100% on the time difference—by Caramelldansen.

There were even a few times where you’d try to push music into each other at the same time. Like hijacking a radio frequency, you’d change channels on each other all day and all night until it was a warbled cacophony of noise, bordering on a headache big enough for a small city. Rarely would either of you concede, but if and/or when you did, you’d make sure the song was something you both liked.

At any other rate, Shinso had to give you credit for your taste in music; even if he didn’t recognize a fair few, he’d remember the lyrics and scour the internet later looking for them like his life depended on it. He already had a building playlist of the songs you’d sing to him—separate ones for the songs he knew, the songs he didn’t know, and his personal favorites. He kept those to himself like trade secrets, deflecting questions about what he was listening to or what kind of music he had on his phone.

Oftentimes, it was easy to guess how you were probably feeling if he just listened. There were queues of songs that made him feel relaxed and incredibly focused—which he assumed did the same for you—and others that just set him on fire.

Then there were days he felt like he was walking around with water in his shoes and a storm cloud lamenting with taut strings and frail keys. It was days like those that he liked to physically, consciously hum meme audios—or if the sadness was particularly dour, he’d find a quiet place, and sing songs that meant the world to him. Shinso wouldn’t hear anything back, and assume you were singing too.

The music said a lot about you, which was a considerable feat as he had never met you before, and he wanted to be selfish. He didn’t want to spoil what was special to you and him before he even got to see you.

You definitely worked your way around that, the maddening anonymity—using song titles to give away bits of information about one another as generously as you could. Favorite colors, films, seasons; all objective small talk suddenly turned scripture. He amassed everything in a small journal like priceless treasures—carrying around the value of another life in his pocket as casually as a to-do list. He had the music, but something tangible like this put his mind and heart at ease. You were really out there, and Shinso could meet you someday.

It wasn’t a known secret to anyone that subject posed one of his greatest fears. One day finding someone to spend the rest of ever with, with someone else’s song playing in his head.

In more than a few ways, you helped him remain largely optimistic. As long as he could hear you, he could find you, and as he got older and he acquired more freedoms and was just a little surer of himself, there was a chance.

That hope suddenly burned like ice on one derisively beautiful day.

Shinso dragged himself up the flights of stairs leading to his apartment, sliding around the stacks of moving boxes cluttering up the only way home. He tottered down the hall, and stepped through the threshold inattentively humming a new tune he’d heard that day that he thought you might like.

If there was one thing he could ever count on, it was your consistency.

Ever since you were kids, he grew up with annoying, made up nursery rhymes he still had memorized, as though he’d written them himself. They quickly turned into fun jingles, which then morphed into some of the most beautiful melodies he’d ever heard. Those didn’t usually have lyrics though, so it wasn’t like he could look them up to be sure—and yet he somehow knew they were original to you.

It was then that he realized, he had never gone a single day of his life without music.

So, when he sat back after a long night of work and readied himself for at least a few hours’ sleep, he froze. Shinso hadn’t heard a beat of song all day. Not anything besides what might have been jumping around him as he went out for errands or to the agency.

With a harsh shake of his damp hair, he swiped a towel over his stony expression. His clenched jaw was starting to drive an ache into his skull.

You probably slept all day, he reasoned.

Even though he was sure you’d sent songs to him in sleep more than a few times in your life…

No. Absolutely not.

He shook himself free of worries, refusing to end the day with fear in his heart where the music should be.

Instead, he closed his eyes and slipped into a tune he’d fallen asleep to before—one that he was sure you created. It rained over his restless consciousness like sun-drops and star-dew, pulling steady, even breaths out of him and pushing a gentle weightlessness in.

The next morning, however, brought even more questions Shinso was just slightly afraid to have answered. Still no sign of the little voice that sounded like him, but was not his own. He absently picked up on a lilting murmur somewhere from upstairs, and anchored to it the more the weightlessness slowly began disappearing.

Shinso shrugged off his nerves, whistling light and roses into the bathroom mirror through his teeth. He splashed cold water into his face and closed off the tap with a huff, sending a final apprehensive glance to his reflection before heading out the door.

He doesn’t know why he’s suddenly ineffably compelled to turn into the shop on the corner after a quick run to the market—but he is. Maybe it’s the incoherent and yet still familiar ringing in his ears, clear as a bell ushering him along his spontaneity.

Shinso’s morning started jittery and threatened to boil over in anarchical agitation. Strolling down the street with the absence of his wonted metronome, hands in his pockets tapping to the beat of an abandoned drum, he felt he stuck out like a loose screw. He was mindless in his trips to each store as he blindly reached for things he was vaguely sure he needed.

It was when he had stepped out onto the corner that something inexplicable snapped into place.

Shinso jogged across the street and through the inviting doors of a building whose name he hadn’t even bothered to read. He found himself surrounded by chrysanthemums and dahlias before he realized he’s in a floral parlor.

The redolence of fresh soil and ingratiatory verdure engulfed his wearied demeanour; the petals brushed his cheeks, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d suggest that the bouquets were reaching for him. The salvia and larkspur waved from the other end of the aisle, and he followed their purple buds to the other side of the shop.

He stopped to admire the camellias and daffodils, lightly taking them between the pads of his thumb and forefinger.

Butterflies.

Hitoshi’s eyes widened with a start, his posture straightening like he’d been struck with lightning.

They fill my guts when I look in your eyes.

He pivoted back and forth on his heels, desperately looking to the flowers for an explanation. A voice filled his head for the first time in nearly two days.

A heart that’s young is filled with sweet surprise.

This time though, the voice isn’t his. It’s clear and ringing and it doesn’t belong to him. The usual warmth he felt basking in the sound of music you whisper in his voice does nothing to compare with the exhilaration frothing in his chest now. Shinso ran a hand through his already disheveled hair, sliding it down his neck and over his shoulder.

It’s really not his, he inwardly surmised. It’s like listening to someone from inside a bubble, though; it’s a round and full sound, but he just knew if it were only slightly louder, the barrier would pop and he’d be free.

Only the innocent can sympathize.

It’s yours.

He brushed past the water lilies, clearing row after row as casually as he could in a futile attempt so as to not appear deranged.

I don’t care

The voice bled into his mind clearer, like watching the gentle shift of river to ocean water through facile currents. He turned the last corner with a breath of anticipation. In a final bit of direction, the lilac, heather, and baby’s breath spilled out of an ornate frame, unquestionably pointing to a figure facing away from him.

“About the funny way you wear your hair,” you crooned. You turned to tenderly repot the rosy begonia cupped in your palms, tucking it in place with the most serene gleam Shinso Hitoshi had ever seen. He sighed, releasing a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding for years.

“Someday you’ll let me put my comb up there.”

“’Till then you’re beautiful and I just stare,” Hitoshi finished softly.

You almost dropped your armful of forget-me-nots. Your strangled breath caught in your throat, hooked solely on the man standing there waiting. He gazed at you with an amused smile and crinkled, bruised eyes. It’s reminiscent of a sleepy kitten and if you hadn’t been so shocked, you’d have melted in your shoes.

“I missed your voice yesterday,” he drawled almost lazily, crossing his arms over his chest. You cleared your throat, rolling upright with a swing of your hands as they lock together at your back.

“I was going to say the exact same thing.”

His movements reminded you of a large jungle cat, stalking forward with a controlled lethargy tensed in anything but. As eager as you were, you matched him beat for beat, dragging your quivering legs in delicate strides down the aisle.

“So, is this supposed to mean we met sometime yesterday then?”

He stood right in front of you, finally close enough to recognize as the nameless and faceless childhood friend you’d been listening to since you could think on your own. You stepped into him, coming to a stop just before the tips of your shoes met his.

“It’s likely.”

“No way,” he said with a resolute shake of his head. “I’d remember you if that were the case.”

“You sound so sure of yourself.”

He stared you down with a focus you wouldn’t expect from eyes as exhausted looking as his.

“I’ve never been more certain about anything in my life.” You bashfully tugged at the fabric of your clothes, the warmth in your chest spreading upwards to beam across your face. Flattening your palm against the expanse of his collar bone, you idly swung your hands over the surface like a pendulum.

“Maybe we just missed each other then—crossed paths without finishing them,” you suggested, twirling a lock of purple around your finger.

“You wouldn’t happen to be moving in somewhere, would you?”

Your head jerked with a small start to twist at him quizzically. How could he possibly know that?

“In a complex a few blocks away from here, yes. Why?”

Shinso’s smile broke into parts amusement and incredulity.

“Looks like I’m your new neighbor,” he grinned. My neighbor? You lit up, eyes twinkling with excitement.

“That means—!”

“You’re stuck with me, yeah.”

“That can’t be such a bad thing,” you started, dropping your voice to push into him more, “—after all, I’m a little new to the area.” You blinked, letting a coquettish simper slide across your features.

“I could do with some sort of guide if I’m going to survive out here, you know.”

“I think I know a guy,” he murmured, a strained husk in his volume.

“Oh, you do, do you?” you whispered under fragile breaths.

“Yeah,” he said, leaning down to angle his face with yours. Just as you reached in to touch his lips, he pulled back suddenly, tapping his finger to his chin in thought. “Tall, blond, black streak of lightning across his bangs—hard to miss. I’ll introduce you; probably just your type.”

You rolled your eyes and punched his shoulder, gripping the fabric of his shirt in an iron fist.

“How could you possibly know my type?”

You pulled his stupid happy face to yours and kissed the mischief out of him, and he dissolved into a tender mess under your fingertips. All of this was new and unexpected, but he imagined seeing, meeting, and eventually kissing you going much different. Shinso hadn’t expected colliding like old, familiar friends; Shinso hadn’t expected missing the way you pressed into him, as though you’d done it a thousand times before. This was a first kiss between two people, but not the first time you’d ever touched.

“Be careful,” he sighed, voice richly warm, “if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were flirting with me.”

You languidly pressed your lips to the corner of his mouth, tracing time signatures into his jawline.

“Have been since we were kids, thanks for noticing.”

“You mean to tell me Mr. Snuffles Is My Best Friend was actually for me? I’m flattered.”

“Oh yeah, definitely. Absolutely not about one of my favorite stuffed animals.”

“That’s good to know. And here I was thinking I would have to challenge a teddy bear for your hand.” You laughed heartily, pressing your forehead into his chest.

“Can I walk you home?”

You fingered the fabric of his shirt, leaning in to feel the rhythm of his heart. It was the prettiest song you had ever heard.

“I’m already there.”

#my hero academia x reader #shinso hitoshi x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #shinso x reader #hitoshi shinso x reader #hitoshi shinsou x reader #bnha x you #bnha reader insert #bnha imagines #mha imagines #soulmate au #bnha soulmate au #officer im babey #and i love him #my writing #a123 #shinsou hitoshi x reader

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homeofhousechickens · 3 years

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Howdy, I had some questions if you have the time and whatnot to answer ^_^ How would I go about catching a feral pigeon (they're in the parking garage at a nearby city)? What do I look for in picking a healthy or able to recover pigeon? How do I make sure I'm not separating a mated pair? Or how do I capture a matted pair?

My only bird keeping experience is with chickens

Is it bad if I don't want to fully socialize them and only give them a better home outside the city in my barn with access to food, water, shelter, and medical attention? Or should I only go into this with the intention of fully socializing them?

I suggest messaging Dani from @/theramseyloft as she runs a rescue and will probably be able to give you better advice :)

For me personally if a pigeon looks sick or has really bad string foot those are the pigeons that will not be taking care of peeps or anything like that and will be the best canidates for rehabilitation. Though sometimes ferals will even do what we call a "self rescue" where they basically throw themselves at people intill someone helps them usually those pigeons are very malnurished or sick in some way. Arga the racing homer self rescued into a womans chicken coop for example.

If Sectioning off a part of your barn for pigeons is what you mean then yes that works and can be a great set up! Its very rewarding even owning pigeons who dont want to be handled as they are intelligent and so much fun to watch so its perfectly fine to just want them to give them a better life and in fact there is a need for hands-off lofts for ferals (or fancy pigeons who need a home) who wont acclimate in a home or to alot of handling.

When you rescue a bird be sure to prepare a quarantine area and make sure they dont come into contact with your chickens intill they are cleared. They usually need a throat swab and fecal from the vet and the appropriate medications to treat any nasties. Its pretty simple if you have access to a good bird vet! If you dont there are places you can order testing kits from to send to a lab

But yeah to reiterate there is nothing wrong if you want to be hands off and give the birds the best possible life! You may have a pigeon "choose you" though against your will even if it has other pigeon friends 😂

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iridecsense · 4 years

Text

𝘯𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘩𝘦

𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘯𝘦

──── ⋅ ⍤ ⋅⊰⋅∘ 〄 ∘⋅⊱⋅ ⍤ ⋅ ────

⤷ summary: Proceeding the encounter with Grindelwald in Paris, Newt goes seaward on a secret mission for Dumbledore when his ship is caught in a storm...

✧ word count: 5.2k ✧ pairing: newt scamander | siren!reader ✧ genre: romance, slow burn, angst, adventure ✧ warnings: none ✧ author’s note: You may be wondering when I will stop writing for Newt. I honestly don’t know myself, but here is my new Newt series that I am personally very excited about. Now, in order to set up plot and all that yummy stuff, reader (you) wont appear for the first three chapters, so please be patient with me. I promise you will get all the fluff soon! Feel free to comment or send me feedback via my ask box, I love hearing from you all. That being said, I hope you enjoy this new series!

──── ⋅ ⍤ ⋅⊰⋅∘ 〄 ∘⋅⊱⋅ ⍤ ⋅ ────

About two months passed since Paris. Grindelwald's movement has spread across the wizarding world, earning him a significant amount of followers. Tension grew within the wizard community, causing the ministry a lot of grief. Grindelwald, being the infamous, conniving dark wizard he was, went underground. No one has seen or heard from him. He was nothing but a menacing whisper in the wind.

Even still, the damage he had caused festered. Darkness spread throughout Europe, slowly inching its way around the world like a disease. The loss of Leta Lestrange fell heavy upon Newt and his brother Theseus. Theseus, being Leta’s ex-fiancé, has become vengeful and apt to square his vendetta with Grindelwald. Newt, having also shared a love for the young, beautiful Lestrange, felt obligated to aid his older brother and guide him through his grief.

Newt had his own persuasions for bringing down Grindelwald. Had these circumstances not occurred, Newt would have nothing to do with the Ministry or the dispute at all. Though, fate has been less than kind. Grindelwald seduced his friend Queenie Goldstein and Credence Barebone to his side. This alone was enough to pull Newt from the sidelines.

After helping save Paris from Grindelwald’s killing curse, Newt’s travel ban was lifted, and he was once again called upon Albus Dumbledore for a separate mission. He disliked doing other people’s bidding, but for once this seemed necessary.

Newt was in his London flat feeding a hippocampus when his assistant Bunty called his name. Her quiet-like nature went unnoticed by him and she resorted to tapping him on his broad shoulder.

“Newt, there is a letter for you,” she said, handing him the envelope. Newt took it into his hands. “Thank you, Bunty.”

The envelope was blank, the only defining feature being the unmistakable Hogwarts seal. Newt broke the red wax, opening the letter. As expected, it was from Albus Dumbledore. The letter read simply:

Newt never said it, but he disliked how aloof Dumbledore was with him. Dumbledore would call upon him like a dog, and send him off on some journey that would most likely put him in danger. He wished that just once, Dumbledore could be straightforward instead of cryptic and mysterious. He also wished he wasn’t the one always chosen to aid him in his quarrels.

“Bunty,” Newt called as he tucked the letter into his pant pocket, unaware of Bunty’s presence looming behind him.

She inched closer to his side. “Yes, Newt?”

“I need you to finish up for me. I have taken care of the kelpie and there is no need to bother the zouwu,” he told her as he walked through the maze of creatures. “I can handle her when I get back.”

Newt was searching for his coat. Bunty saw it hung over the mooncalves’ fence and picked it up, shaking the dirt from it. Newt whirled around and she presented his coat to him. He thanked her and she helped him put it on.

“Should I finish the kappa enclosure while you’re gone?” She asked.

“No, that’s not necessary,” he said. “There is no need to wait for me. You can clock off when you’ve finished.” Newt gave her a closed smile and jogged up the stairs, leaving her behind.

Newt left his apartment and walked along the cobblestone road. It was night, and the streets were slick with rain. He looked around to ensure no one was watching before apparating to the London bridge.

Upon arriving, he saw the cloaked figure of Albus Dumbledore just a few feet ahead of him. Dumbledore had his back towards Newt as he looked over the bridge. His hands were tucked into his coat pockets and his collar was turned up.

“Have you ever wondered what controls you, Newt?” He asked, still facing the horizon. “The heart or the brain? Or perhaps you think it’s both.”

Newt ignored Dumbledore’s question and presented his own. “Why have you called me here?”

“I am not sure myself,” Dumbledore continued. “I can’t find the logic behind why we do the things we do. But perhaps that in itself is the answer.”

Newt walked to Dumbledore’s side and leaned against the railing. The air was heavy and thick with the weight of the situation. Evidently, Newt knew why he was being called. In fact, he was expecting it.

Dumbledore turned to Newt in a serious manner. “Grindelwald has successfully seduced half of Europe. Many of his followers have started carrying out his agenda, preaching to others while he continues to weaponize Credence.”

He motioned for Newt to follow him, leading him off the bridge. “What we cannot afford is more enemies. That is why I have summoned you.”

“What do you suppose we do?” Newt asked.

“You are well-traveled, Newt,” said Dumbledore as he rounded a corner. “So, naturally, it could only be you.”

They came upon a small tavern that stuck out from the rest of the surrounding buildings. Dumbledore held the door open for Newt before walking in after him. The tavern was practically empty besides the few drunk persons scattered by the bar and those who worked there. They took a booth in the corner of the room, away from prying ears.

Dumbledore took his seat across from Newt. “Have you talked to the Ministry?”

Newt shook his head. “Not recently. Not since the week after Paris.”

“Good.” Dumbledore waved over the bartender to bring drinks. “As I said before, Grindelwald’s influence has spread. Rumor has it that his henchmen have been killing and enslaving witches and wizards that do not have pure blood.”

“Last I heard, his influence was heavy in Germany,” Newt added.

“Yes, that is the last I’ve heard as well.”

The bartender came upon the two men and gave them mugs of butterbeer. Dumbledore thanked her and gave her two galleons, sending her off.

“The Ministry won't listen,” said Dumbledore. “They’ve been imprisoning traitors.”

Newt’s eyes widened. “The Dementors.” He recalled hearing rumors of Dementors scouring the city in search of Grindelwald’s followers.

Dumbledore nodded. “They think by striking fear into their hearts, they will obtain loyalty. Blind to the fact that their hostilities drive more towards Grindelwald.”

Dumbledore reached into his coat pocket, pulled out a dragon skin pouch, and an envelope. He placed it on the table. “This should be enough,” he said.

Newt furrowed his brows. “I’m sorry, ‘should be enough’ for what?”

“Your trip, of course.” Dumbledore took a swing of butterbeer, drinking it all and exhaling in satisfaction. “I’d suggest going to the Mediterranean first, they’ve yet to be influenced. If I’m not mistaken, there is a ship leaving tomorrow morning in Plymouth.”

Newt was having trouble processing Dumbledore’s words. Dumbledore didn’t seem to notice and spoke to him as if what he was saying were obvious. Newt watched Dumbledore rise to his feet.

Dumbledore looked down at Newt. “I want you to know, I do not take joy involving you in this, Newt. But you are the only one I can trust. You’ll know what to do.”

“But what about—”

“Good luck, Newt.”

Dumbledore gave Newt a lopsided smile before turning on his heels and walking out the door. Newt was left in the tavern alone and defeated. The corners of his lips quirked up and he took the pouch from the table.

When he returned to his flat he ran up the stairs and barged into a side room. It was a small, dreary old room, almost too small for a grown man. It didn’t help that most of the floor was littered with bottles and half-eaten plates. In the single bed pushed up against a corner laid the shell of Jacob Kowalski. His once dapper and bubbly persona had turned sour and grim. Instead of proper pajamas, he wore a dingy wife beater decorated with questionable stains and striped white and blue boxers. He laid face down in the bed, the sheets messily intertwined between his legs, and his hand loosely gripped a half-empty bottle of wine.

“Jacob wake up!” Newt turned on the light by his limp friend’s side. Jacob groaned and turned his back to block the glare from his eyes.

“Go away, I’m sulking,” he mumbled hazily.

“Yes, I can see that,” Newt snarked. “But we have to pack.”

Jacob turned to face Newt, squinting in his direction. “What?”

Newt pulled out a suitcase and started filling it with Jacob’s clothes. Jacob sat upright in the bed. “Hey, hey, hey! What are you doing?”

“We are going on a trip,” said Newt.

“A trip,” Jacob repeated.

“Yes.”

“And where is this 'trip' taking us, exactly?”

“Italy, I suspect.”

“What’s in Italy?”

“People we need to help,” Newt said plainly.

Jacob rolled his eyes and sighed. “Yeah, right,” he scoffed, turning his back to the wizard. “Just leave me alone, Newt.”

Newt stopped packing and glanced at his melancholic friend. Jacob struggled greatly after the battle of Cimetière du Père-Lachaise. Losing Queenie took a toll on his heart. He tried desperately to get her back the first couple of weeks, hardly taking a second to sleep. He drove himself mad following pointless leads, each failure sent him deeper into a downward spiral. By the time they returned to England he was devastated.

Newt told Jacob he could stay with him, and because they both needed a friend to lean on, he stayed. Their loss effected them differently. While Newt never gave himself the time to process his grief, busying himself in any way possible to keep his mind off it, Jacob wallowed in it. He hadn’t left the house since they returned, only leaving his room to eat and relieve himself. Wine became his new lover, and the bed his concubine. The constant disappointment brought on his own self-loathing, having convinced himself he was the cause of his impotence.

It pained Newt to see him like this. He halted his actions and moved to sit next to Jacob. He placed a soft hand on his shoulder.

“We could find Queenie, Jacob.”

Jacob tensed at the mention of her name. He stayed silent, unrelenting. Newt withdrew his hand and began to leave the room when he heard Jacob stir in the bed. When he turned around, Jacob was on his feet, a new fire swirling behind his black eyes.

“When do we leave?”

⁎ ⊹ ⁂ ˚ ✧ ⁂ ⊹ ＊

The moments just before dawn were always the most peaceful. At dawn, the sky was painted lapis, and the air was brisk. The docks were no different. The air was cool and smelled of seawater. A light fog blanketed the boats and piers, providing camouflage for the gulls hunting an unsuspecting fishermen’s catch. Newt ambled down the pier with his case in hand. Jacob less-than gracefully stumbled behind him, nauseated by the portkey they just ventured through.

“Oh, God, I think I’m gonna be sick,” Jacob groaned weakly.

His wailing went neglected by Newt who was far too busy unscrambling the thoughts in his mind. Dumbledore had told him that a ship to the Mediterranean was leaving in Plymouth this morning, and yet the docks were half empty, the only implements filling them being sailboats and fishing vessels. Upon arrival, he’d asked the first sailor they’d come across when the ship would come to port. The sailor brazenly voiced his annoyance with Newt and claimed that no such ship comes to dock there. Newt clenched his cheek. His own irritation created a deep line in the center of his forehead between his eyebrows. He shoved his hand into his pocket when he felt it brush against a piece of parchment. His mind flew back to last night’s encounter and the envelope Dumbledore had handed him. He pulled the paper out of his pocket and examined its front. The name ‘Uluras’ was written in Dumbledore's hand. He didn't recall seeing that earlier.

He whirled around and caught the arm of another passing fisherman. He asked about four strangers if they knew anyone by the name Uluras, all of whom denied ever hearing such a name. A woman who had just disappointed Newt with her answer left his presence to board a boat when a young man came up behind him. Jacob, having been aware of his presence, nudged Newt’s arm to gain his attention.

“Why are you looking for Uluras?”

A boy no older than seventeen stood in front of them holding a full box of cod. His dark brown skin glistened with a mixture of sweat and seawater. He was tall and skinny, his droopy clothes were muted and clearly worn with age.

“Do you know him?” Asked Newt.

The boy's eyes scanned the two men, using his intuition to determine whether they were a threat.

“Yeah, I know him,” he answered, finally. “What do you need him for?”

“I don’t know. I have this letter for him.” Newt handed the boy the letter. He placed the box on the ground and read the front before flipping it to the back. His eyes were drawn to the red seal that held the letter together. His once stone-set face washed over with recognition. He returned the envelope to Newt, bending down to pick up the box of fish.

He gestured towards the mainland with his head. “Follow me.”

Newt and Jacob shared a look before trailing behind him. They followed him up a trail through a rural plane. They trekked wordlessly for about a mile when they came to an isolated beach. Resting on a cliff overseeing the sea was an odd-looking shack. From where they stood at the base of the precipice it was terribly worn. It looked almost as if one strong gust of wind could send it hurtling into the sea. Taking a look back at the two men lagging behind, the boy adjusted the heavy cargo in his hands and began hiking up the cliff towards the shack. Jacob struggled to walk properly on the inclining ground, still recovering from his protkey-sickness. Newt took long strides, trailing the boy posthaste. Jacob called after Newt breathlessly as he stumbled over the rough terrain of the hill until he finally managed to grasp the back of his coat.

“Newt, buddy,” he huffed. “You know I like spending time with you, right?”

Newt slowed his pace to walk beside him, unsure of where the sudden sentiment came from. “Yes?”

“Good, good. Well, as nice as this boys trip is, don’t you think it’d be faster to do... whatever magic transportation thing you have to get to Italy? This seems shady, even for you.”

“I wish we could, Jacob. But ever since Paris, the Ministry has been adamant in restricting international travel; only aurors are allowed to travel now. They can’t know what we’re doing. We’ll have to travel like muggles to avoid them.”

“Right,” Jacob hummed. “Muggles.”

Newt smirked. “We could always use another portkey, if you’d like.”

Jacob’s face screwed up at the thought. “Nah, I’m good.”

Newt smiled to himself and continued up the hill to the shack. It was even more ghastly looking up close. The structure was crooked and with each gust of wind it appeared to sway. The wood was black with rot and mildew. Spots of green mold and moss crept up the sides and covered the roof shingles. The wind was strong at the crest of the cliff. It howled in their ears like a wailing spirit and caused the wind chimes hanging under the porch to play a tumultuous percussion. Shrieking gulls circled the shack, and swooped low to the ground upon their arrival, hoping to snag a fish from the defenseless boy’s hands. He leads them up the decaying stairs and to the door. Sounds of metal clinking together and floorboards creaking under shuffling feet could be heard from inside. With a kick of his foot, the boy pushed the door open and walked inside.

Inside was surprisingly well kept in comparison to the exterior. Though the structure was still deteriorating, it was more appealing with bright turquoise paint covering obscene blemishes and contrasting the white-painted beams on the ceiling. The various nicknacks and trinkets that lined the walls helped distract from the shabby furniture and moth-eaten curtains that covered grimy windows. It was a reasonably sized abode. From where they stood in the center of the shack they saw a kitchen, a door suspected to lead to a bathroom, and another door that was left ajar, revealing the bedroom behind it. To the left was a set of creaky stairs that disappeared to the second floor.

The boy told Newt and Jacob to follow him into the kitchen where a side room was connected. Across the room was an older man hunched over a blue wooden workbench. Above him was a wall lined with fishing gear ranging from hooks to harpoons. He worked busily on a metal contraption, screwing nails into overlapping metal sheets.

“Baaba,” the boy called.

The man didn’t turn around, entirely focused on the work in front of him. “Nuh badda mi, Niris. You know I am workin’.”

The boy sighed and placed the fish on the ground before walking over to his father. “Baaba, there’s some people here to see you.”

The man lifted his head and turned back to face Newt and Jacob standing by the archway. He had a strong face; angular, and relatively free of wrinkles. The only indication of his age was the silver streaks that colored his black locs and scraggly beard. It was no doubt this man was the boy’s father, he took after him quite well. The man gently pats the young boy’s arm and pushed him back towards the kitchen. The boy went to pick up the box of fish and reluctantly left the three men alone.

Newt took a step forward. “Are you Uluras?” He asked.

“Aye, that’d be me,” said the man. “Who wants to know?”

“My name is Newt Scamander and this is my friend Jacob Kowalski. He’s a muggle. I have a letter for you.” Newt fished the envelope from his pocket and handed it to him. “It’s from Albus Dumbledore.”

Both of Uluras’s eyebrows jumped. “Albus Dumbledore sent you this?”

Newt nodded. Uluras eyed the two suspiciously before opening the envelope. Newt shifted anxiously while he read. His eyes scanned the paper, his expression softening with each line. When he reached the end, he sucked his teeth and threw the envelope onto the work table.

“This man come to me asking for something like this?” He exasperated. “I tell him to let me know if there be anything he needs done, and he send me a war!”

Uluras mumbled to himself as he crossed the floor, walking to a bookcase filled with anything but books. He ran his finger across one of the shelves when he came across a figurine of a pirate ship. He pushed the ship back and turned it about ninety degrees. There was an audible click and a low rumbling coming from underfoot. The bookcase split into two and pulled apart to reveal a tunnel carved out of stone leading downwards. It was hard to tell how long it stretched, but occasional drops of water that fell from the ceiling echoed throughout the passage, and flickers of burning sconces lit the way.

Once the rumbling stopped, and the bookcase seemed to set in its open position, Uluras grabbed a pile of rope lying in a corner and slung it over his shoulder, and descended down the tunnel.

“Come this-a-way, foofool!” His voice bounced off the rock walls.

Newt and Jacob peered into the dim hole, their expressions displaying their contrasting emotions.

“Seem’s like a fun guy,” Jacob snarked.

Newt looked at Jacob with an amused smile, before gripping his suitcase and following after Uluras.

Jacob threw his hands up in exasperation, begrudgingly walking inside. “So, this is what we’re doing now?” He mumbled, gruffly. “Following angry old men into creepy tunnels? Where did this tunnel even come from? Is nobody going to ask that? We’re on a cliff!”

Jacob’s remarks went ignored by the others as they descended down the stone passage. It was a downhill walk. Three pairs of footsteps echoed through the cavern as they walked in silence. It was cold, and the scent of seawater grew the deeper they went.

“Where exactly is he taking us?” Jacob whispered. Newt was going to answer that he wasn’t sure where they were heading, but Uluras spoke first, surprising them both.

“You need a ship, do you not?” He said.

“Yes, we do,” Newt affirmed.

“Then that’s where we're going,” Uluras said, effectively silencing all doubts.

As they walked through the tunnel, and the smell of seawater grew stronger, a blueish light slowly engulfed them. Light from an unseen water source reflected against the walls and ceiling of the cavern, casting rippling white beams all over. When they reached what seemed to be an irrefutable dead-end, Uluras, as though he had done it a thousand times before, pressed his hands flat on the rocky wall that blocked their path and whispered a chant in a language neither Newt nor Jacob had heard before. The rock made a terrible crumbling sound and a large crack in the center of the wall formed, splitting the stone into two halves. The earth beneath them began to tremble as the wall slowly parted like sliding doors.

Uluras stopped chanting and stepped back as the wall broke off to reveal what it was meant to conceal. What a glorious sight it was, the view beyond the wall. From the grand ceiling were stalactites that protruded threateningly. The air was thick and moist, a refreshing salty mist dampened their skin. It was a glorious cavern where a vibrant blue pool of water collected at its center and stretched farther into a canal that lead out to sea. It wasn’t the cave itself that brought awe to Newt and Jacob’s features, but the grand ship that lay anchored in its wake.

A mighty sailboat, with hefty white sails secured to three proud masts gently, swayed in the water. Despite being dwarfed in comparison to many of the steamboats procured in the 20th century, the Georgian relic was still quite the sight to see. It’s chipping wood had once been painted a radiant royal blue and trimmed with glistening gold, yet both became dulled over time. Detailed heavenly carvings lined the sides and the stern, but they were no match for the wooden angel carved at the bow. A beautiful feminine angel with a length of black coiled hair and mahogany skin stretched its fading white wings in a protective manner in front of the boat.

“A pirate ship,” Jacob gaped. “It’s a pirate ship!”

Uluras scoffed and shook his head, mumbling something under his breath in a foreign language. “This ain’t no pirate ship, boy,” he said. “That there be the fastest ship on earth, Zanj Lanmè.”

“The Sea Angel,” Newt translates, his eyes still taking in the ambiance of it all.

The smallest of smirks managed to tug the corner of Uluras’s lips. “What you know about Creole, white boy?”

Newt’s cheeks spotted red. “I did some traveling around the Caribbean a while ago. I spent some time in a village in Haiti and helped them catch a Loogaroo that had been terrorizing their people.”

Uluras pursed his lips and nodded in understanding. “Nasty things, them Loogaroo are. Even the bokor have trouble ridding them,” he mused. “How a skinny bradda like you was able to subdue one?”

“I was just lucky, I suppose,” said Newt.

Uluras hummed, not completely satisfied with Newt’s answer, but enough to let it go. He turned his attention back to Jacob, who was still processing everything.

“Well, as I was sayin’,” he tells him, “she ain’t no pirate ship. Zanj Lanmè be a ship of liberty. She was once used as a slaver ship and crossed the ocean between West Africa and the West Indies, that be until a captured slave by the name of Asha discovered that she was a sòsyè.”

“She was a witch?” asked Newt.

“Yes, and a powerful one, too. Without realizing it, she called on a great storm. The traders were left to fight against the wind and sea on deck, while the slaves stayed below. Asha’s storm was too great for any pouvwafèb to survive. They all were taken by the sea and when the storm was over, the slaves realized what had happened. They were freed. Asha used her newfound power to break their shackles, and enchanted the ship to glide through water with ease and withstand any storm to take them to the mainland. Zanj Lanmè be the ship of my ancestors.”

“Wow,” was all Jacob could muster to say amidst his amazement.

“That’s incredible,” Newt added.

“Yes, she is.” Uluras smiled proudly and walked towards the ship. Newt and Jacob followed him to the edge of the pool. With a slow wave of his hand, a stream of water rose from the pool, splishing and splashing wildly as it began to form a sort of bridge between them and the boat. Just as fast as it had appeared, it crystalized in front of them, stabilizing it enough to support their weight. Without a smidgen of hesitation, Uluras stepped on the bridge and walked up to the ship.

“Zanj Lanmè will take you wherever you need to be. You should be thanking her, you are the first white men to board her in a century,” Uluras yelled back to them.

Newt stopped on the bridge and turned to the angel at the bow. He lowered his head in a respectful manner as a small thank you and continued up the ramp.

“Thank you, ma’am.” Jacob quickly bowed to the angel as he passed.

Just as Jacob stepped on deck, another low rumbling vibrated the grotto. The three men whipped their heads to the tunnel entrance and saw the wall parting again. With a large sack in tow, Niris emerged from the passage and rushed to the ship, much to Uluras’s surprise.

“Niris, what are you doing here?” He questioned.

“I am coming with you, father,” said Niris as he made his way up the bridge.

“No, you are staying here!”

“And do what? Sit and wait for you to come home? Besides, you need my help, Baaba. You can’t man Zanj Lanmè on your own.”

Uluras sighed, mumbling something in Creole before placing his hands on his hips. “You’re just like your Mudda: thick-headed,” he demurred, though he increasingly became convinced. “Hurry up and gadda supplies below deck,” he finally conceded.

Niris smiled widely with his teeth, rushed on deck, and thanked his father with a big hug before disappearing below.

“Mr. Kowalski.” Uluras turned to face the shorter man.

“Aye, Captain?”

“Would you mind helping my boy while I talk to your friend here?”

Jacob looked at Newt beside him, who gave him a nod to go on without him. “No, not at all,” said Jacob. “I’ll get right on that.”

Jacob lackadaisically headed in the same direction Niris had since disappeared to. Uluras walked in the opposite direction, towards what Newt recognized as the captain’s cabin. He opened the painted red door and held it for Newt to walk in after him.

The cabin was impressive, to say the least, a real French antique of the late seventeen hundreds. It was as long as it was wide, made up of dark wood in which the walls were paneled and decorated with miscellaneous objects such as maps and paintings. A few bookshelves lined the walls, filled with thick unknown books and some geographical tools. The farthest wall was covered edge to edge with five long, glass arched windows, leaking streams of light into the otherwise dim cabin. To the left was a rather posh canopy bed a few feet from a large cluttered desk that was bolted to the center of the floor.

Uluras let the door close and walked towards the desk. As he passed, the lanterns hanging from the ceiling, and the candles sitting on the desk lit to illuminate the room around them, creating a warm glow of light.

“Dumbledore sent you to me with the hopes I will take you to Italy,” he spoke. “Normally I wouldn’t be bodda’d to take anyone anywhere in this here ship, but it appears I don’t have a choice.” Uluras crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the desk as he inspected Newt. “I get the feeling you are an honorable man, Mr. Scamander. Odda'wise, you wouldn’t be chasing demons across the world. Demons such as Gellert Grindelwald.”

“Dumbledore told you,” Newt deduced.

“Even if he didn’t, I wouldn't need him to tell me a war is brewing. Everyone knows about Grindelwald and his blind followers. And everyone knows you. You managed to fight against him twice, most recently in France. No doubt you are planning to face him again.” Uluras let out a soft chuckle. “I don’t know if you are brave, stupid, or both. Maybe I am stupid for agreeing to help. Nothing good comes to those looking for trouble.”

“Sometimes it feels more like trouble is looking for me,” said Newt.

“The best people are tasked with fixing the worst of the world. Trouble chooses you because you are destined for greatness. It’s best to remember that.”

Oddly enough, Uluras’s words gave Newt the encouragement he needed. While he was always one for an adventure, the events that transpired the last few months left him feeling defeated. The loss of Leta filled him with a great deal of grief, one that numbed him almost completely. When Dumbledore called him back in arms, there was a flicker of hope that punctured his heart. He could avenge her, and save Credence and Queenie. He could stop Grindelwald once and for all. These were the thoughts that went through his head. But once his high died down, and he realized just how serious a mission he was embarking on. He quickly became apprehensive. What if he was in way over his head? What if he failed? What could he possibly do to stop a psychotic dark wizard from waging war on muggles? All of those anxieties seemed to muffle with Uluras’s reassurance.

Newt was brought from his inner monologue when Uluras placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. He must have sensed Newt’s doubts and concerns. “I will take you to Italy,” he promised. “Don’t worry Mr. Scamander, you can trust me and my son to get you where you got to go.”

Newt smiled awkwardly and bowed his head. “Thank you.”

Uluras slid his hand off Newt’s shoulder and gestured to the door. “Why don’t you go find your friend and my son. He should be able to show you to your quarters while I prepare us to sail.”

Newt nodded and headed out the door, leaving Uluras behind in the cabin to find Jacob.

──── ⋅ ⍤ ⋅⊰⋅∘ 〄 ∘⋅⊱⋅ ⍤ ⋅ ────

❦ 𝘨𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵 ⊱

──── ⋅ ⍤ ⋅⊰⋅∘ 〄 ∘⋅⊱⋅ ⍤ ⋅ ────

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slashingdisneypasta · 4 years

Text

Horror Villains / Misc x Reader || Drabbles

Plot: You accidentally summon Beetlejuice because he convinced you that he could help you with your Slasher problem, but he becomes an even worse problem. So, you need your Slasher to help you exterminate him, instead.

Includes: Chucky / Charles Lee Ray and Freddy Krueger

Warnings: It’s got nasty gremlin man in it (Meaning, gross language, dirty jokes and such), and also Slashers (Meaning, gore, swearing, course and suggestive language). Groping (Himself)

Notes:

Okay, those of you who were with me at MainstreamBaddies; You remember that post I wrote about some rando killer trying to get the reader, so reader goes to the Slasher that’s also trying to kill them for help?

Well this is basically that but with (Movie) Beetlejuice as the rando.

THERE WAS MEANT TO BE MORE CHARACTERS!! But its late and I wanna slep ^^ Hopefully I’ll do Ghostface and Jason tomorrow!

~~~

THE START / ‘Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice’

“So… “Worrying my bottom lip, I look from the wall where I can think properly to the small, ‘fun size’ version of ‘Beetlejuice’ who’s looking expectantly at me. Excited even.

Although I guess that’s a given. If I was that small and had the possibility sitting right in front of me, of growing back to full size, and full power again, I’d be jazzed too. But, still, there’s something very off about this guy, and it isn’t just the fact that he’s the size of maybe 2 thumbs snapped off at the knuckle and taped one on top of the other. He’s very enthusiastic.

In a Gollum-Swamp Monster-Chick Hicks kind of way.

“’So’, what? I don’t have all day baaaaaay – well, I do have all day. I got nowhere to be – not many fun joints for a guy to go to at this size, amiright? Yeah, but, that’s not the point! Do you wanna get rida’ your lil’ problem or not? Eh?” Beetlejuice is practically vibrating, like an alarm clock and I have the most impulsive urge to call his name three times just to stop it.

Luckily, I have impulse control.

“Of course, I do. I… “Eyeing him pointedly, I start wringing my hands. “I just don’t want to create a new problem, in its place.”

He rolls his dark, feral racoon-panda eyes, muttering something lightning quick to himself before throwing out his arms and yelling. “BABE! I promise ya, really, sweetheart. Baby-lemon pie-dumpling-doll-dollar-sugar-tea, I’m just gonna fix your problem! All I want in the world right now is t’ cum-plete our deal! Get rida’ your Slasher, and be on my way! Unless theirs somethin’ else you ask of me, eh? When I’m back to my normal size? You know, I’m big in all the right places sugar tit- “

I took a deep, necessary breath in when he started on the ‘something else’ and now have the required breath to drown out the last words. “Oooookay!! I wont need that.” I say quickly, as a statement. He licks his lips. “But, um… Are you sure you can get rid of them?” ‘Them’. The bane of my existence right now. The co-star in the horror movie of my life. That them.

“Trust me, babe-sickle. It’ll be sinch.” For a moment, he looks absolutely calm. No vibrating, no yelling, no talking really fast. And it hits its intended mark – my assurances. Okay.

“Alright.” I wring my hands one last time, then clap them and step back from the town diorama that Beetlejuice is roaming in. I cross my arms, then drop them to my sides and look around, then finally back at the impatient ghost… who’s doing squats. Good grief, how much energy is in this guy? “Beetlejuice.”

He gasps, jumps up to his feet, nearly falling over because his weight landed wrong and then rubs his hands together. “Here we go!”

“Beetlejuice.”

“Oh. You do it right, babe.”

Oh my god, here we go. Hopefully this can’t make my situation any worse- I mean, I am being targeted by a killer. What are the odds that this goofball of a ghost could ruin my life anymore? “Beetlejuice.”

“PRESTO!”

Human! Chucky / Charles Lee Ray – Chucky’s POV:

I figure this is going to be a pain, when a screech tears from the ugly old house before I even get in. Confused, and more then frustrated because this spells out nothing but problems for me for when I get in, instead of the nice peaceful kill I was intending to enjoy, I open the screen door -bitch didn’t even lock the front door, it’s like she wants me to kill her,- and rush up the stairs to where the sound came from. “Hold on, I’m not there yet!!”

What the hell is going on?!

“Look, in my professional experience, the screamin’ doesn’t start til the killer takes out a knife, sometimes even before but not before I even get into the house, lady. The audacity of you, here- “

What am I looking at here?

In front of my eyes, my fucking eyes, stands of course Y/N, my victim. And some kind of zebra - one that’s been dead and left out in the swamp for a fuck-long time. He’s got crazy eyes if I’ve ever seen them, and have you seen mine? That’s saying something. Who is this joker? In my coat, I grip the gun I keep just in case strangulation goes awry, but don’t bring it out just yet. Not until this guy reveals his cards, first.

The guy’s eyes flicker in smug amusement from my face, to my gun pocket -evidently, he realises something’s up. Can’t blame the guy, damnit, -, then whips right around, leaving his back wide open for me and my weapon, to my facepalming victim. I smirk at her. “I take it that’s the guy you want rid of, toots?”

“Uh… yeah… “She looks adorable and awkward. The guy lets go of her waist, which he was holding close to his body as she leaned away before, when I walked in and he literally, and I’ve never seen any person do this before, halted in his tracks. Stopped breathing, stopped shifting, it even seemed like the history around him stopped for that ‘caught’ moment. And I swear I heard the sound of record music abruptly being turned off come from his mouth.

And for some odd reason, I get the feeling he’s not human. Can’t conjure a reason why, though.

I should be saying this shit out loud, I’m wasted on myself.

Figuring this guy’s been hired to get rid of me, I take out my gun. “Okay, you’re gonna have to catch me up on what’s happening... Oh, no? Well, okay.”

BAM!

A bullet flies across the room and sticks into the freak’s chest, and that is the end of things going my way.

Because the force of the bullet somehow sends him slamming across the room and through a wall in the back. His body goes ‘poot’ down two stories outside and theirs a silence that doesn’t last long enough for either Y/N or I to digest what just fucking happened before the bastard’s grotty fucking hand spiders up my spine from behind. I wriggle out of his reach immediately on impact, because it’s like a real fucking spider, and whip around, waiving my gun- which is useless now, of course.

Games are over.

The guy looks over at Y/N and grins, throwing his arms out in a ‘ta da!’ way. She winces and just narrows her eyes in a glare. “What’d you think of that, sweet cheeks? I got a flare for the dramatic, you know? Ssssexy! Eh?” When she sticks her tongue out at him, for lack of any words to respond to that with I guess -I mean, I, can think of some choice words for the guy, but she’s clearly not as creatively gifted in the art of insult as I have been told I am. But, a tongue out works, - he grins the most fucking horny grin I’ve ever seen and clutches his sack. Her jaw drops.

“Where the ever-loving fuck did you pick crazy pants up from??” I ask, looking accusingly at Y/N. She chews on the inside of her cheeks and looks even more awkward then before.

“Truce?” She asks, instead of answering my question. I’m genuinely curious.

I roll my eyes. “Ughh, fine.”

“Oh well that won’t do,” The guy speaks up again, looking between us and letting his Johnson go, thank god. The boys have to breath! “Baby girl, blossom, light of my FUCKING DEATH! You wound me. riGHT IN THE HEART! Let me show you, sweetgums, why that was a bad idea.”

Her eyes widen, and I suddenly feel real unsafe. “How about you don’t- “

“Watch this!”

He turns to me, makes some overdramatic hand gestures, throwing his back out in the process and momentarily acting like he’s out of order.

Then he whips back into action and shoots me with finger guns,

And then suddenly everything around me looks 4 times bigger then before. Oh, well, its that or… I’m closer to the ground.

Because I’m a fucking doll again.

I slowly look up from the little black baby shoes and the edges of the godamn jean jumpsuit, to the infected condom in black and white grease paint. “… You son-of-a-bitch.”

He chuckles and turns to Y/N, and gives her finger guns too, but the only other thing that happens this time is he winks at her. “Now, baby! Time to get hitched!”

“What?!” She shrieks.

Freddy Krueger – Freddy’s POV:

“I’m going to die of boredom before this bitch catches winks. I’m gonna pummel her with the counting sheep she clearly needs when she gets here.” The corners of my mouth lift up from the deep scowl I was wearing before, at the idea. It has merit.

Behind me the fine folks of Pompeii run for their lives and a red and green striped Vesuvius explodes molten lava over their little town when I remember it’s been 2 days since she’s fallen asleep. Or found some fucking Hypnocil. Or killed herself. Who knows, really. I have a… deadly effect on women.

But damn, it would be a bummer if she killed herself. I was having fun with her. I had plans.

Have, have. I have plans. I won’t give up hope yet.

An hour, or who knows how long later -time is a human construct and doesn’t exist in the dream plain, - , I’m lying on the ground watching Psycho play in the sky when that familiar tingle rushes through me, telling me someone’s entered my world.

I’m just getting up and brushing myself off, taking my damn time like she left me to wait -besides, I can turn back time and make it seem like I appeared instantaneously if I want to. Time’s a construct, remember? And this is my world. I’m just doing this for me, to make me feel better, - when she comes out of fucking nowhere and nearly knocks me over. Im-ee-diate-ly I open my mouth to ask her why she’s so eager, but she beats me to the punch, causing me sadness.

“Wake up, wake up, wake up!”

Hold on, I definitely think there’s something off here. Don’t I make the fucking demands?! “Bitch- ”

“Wake!”

“-I haven’t done anything to you yet.”

“Up!”

“Goddamn!”

What is going on here!?

“I’ll do anything you want, just please. Wake me up!” Her eyes are deadly serious, and I can’t help the greedy smile I get at her submissive idea. What could have made her this way? I laugh.

“Ohhh, I’ll think it over. Tempting offer, though~” She lets out a growl and let’s go of me in pure frustration, looks around quickly for something and then lays eyes on my glove. She picks it up, and my eyes widen in surprise at what she does next.

The blade slices through the skin in her upper arm before I can take any control of the situation, and a nauseous feeling suddenly rolls me and she whimpers from the pain of slicing herself open, as the world goes blurry around us and she wakes up- of course, still holding my glove, which is attached to me, so I go with her.

“Fucking he- “

Much quicker than you think it will be, we both turn up back in the fucking reality. She hops up immediately and flies across the room to a first aid box.

I’m just assuming, I mean. Because I don’t make any move to leave the bed at all and just close my eyes and groan, and resist the urge to cry.

I hate this placceeeeeeeeee.

“BABES, YOU’RE BACK!”

Now I resist the urge to scream and phase out of existence, because a man just appeared on the bed with me and called me his babes. Instead, I slowly turn my head to him and sinisterly narrow my eyes- and hope he doesn’t notice my distress from a second ago.

I’m starting to understand why Y/N was so intent on getting back here. If this guy, a dung beetle with… oh, god. Clearly, some kind of terrible illness if that smell indicates anything, was hanging around me while I slept, I’d be… slightly bothered too. If only for the stink!

He squints, and while he does, his hair flickers through the various colours in the rainbow, confused. “Sweetbottom, theirs something different about you. Did you get contacts?”

As a knee jerk reaction, I stab him in the gut with my blades. “Stranger danger, bitch!”

My panic dissolves into glee as I jerk the knives upwards… just to turn back into panic when he starts tearing all the way in half from my stab wound up to the top of his head with minimal effort from me. I gulp, and retreat from him to where Y/N is, taping her bandages securely around her arm. I gesture to the freak who’s padded onto the floor and is zipping himself back together in front of my eyeballs. “… the fuck is that?”

“That’s Beetlejuice, he’s a ghost=

“With the most, baby.” ‘Beetlejuice’ stands up straight and rests his hands on his hips, chest puffed out and winks at Y/N.

“-What do we do?” She asks, looking with wide eyes at me.

What does she think I am? The Fairy Godmother of the dead?? I’m no godmoth-

… I could use this. A slow grin spreads across my mouth. “First, you go over there and distract him.”

For a split second she looks like she’s actually going to go with it, then looks with furrowed, unimpressed eyebrows at me. ‘Beetlejuice’ makes grabby hands at us, and she starts to look more panicked by the second. “And what will you do??”

I yank the bedroom door open. “Run!!”

#Keatlejuice #Beetlejuice #Chucky #Charles Lee Ray #Freddy Krueger #Drabbles #Scenarios #Part 1 #Horror / Misc Drabbles || Part 1 #Beetlejuice x Reader #Keatlejuice x Reader #Chucky x Reader #Charles Lee Ray x Reader #Freddy Krueger x Reader

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chimswae · 3 years

Text

BTS Caretaker CH41

Summary: She may think she has Bangtan Sonyeondan wrapped around her fingers. She may think it is easy to love the members equally without hurting any soul. She may think the boys wont fall head over heels for her. She assumes it is okay to show a little love and affection towards the boys, what if she gets it all wrong? What if it only brings more complication to her already complicated life? Can she survive their charms? Will she be able to resist them? What if they just wont let her go?

- Pairing: BTS x Oc ( Yoongi x OC, Jungkook x OC)

- Genre: Fluff, Slight Angst, Romance, Idol!au

- Word Count: 4,174

- Author Note: Happy Eid to those who celebrate, and yes this chapter is pure fluff <3 we lovee seulliee and yoongii and bangtannies!

Previous | Next

Chapter 41

“Are you two like together now?” Namjoon eyed the two lovebirds with so much interest followed by whistles in the background by the rest of the members. The tease went on when Seul moved away and hid her pink face in Yoongi’s arm practically clinging onto her dear life.

“Obviously. For some reason, Seul is being extremely clingy around hyung” said Jungkook with his eyes fixed on his phone playing the usual online games.

Offended by the remarks, Seul finally let go Yoongi’s arm and glared at his way “I am not being clingy. The thought of dating Yoongi is too much for me to comprehend” she murmured lowly.

“Wait until you live under the same roof as him then you know, it is not easy to handle Yoongi” Jin stated in the matter of fact tone receiving a dissatisfied look from the pale man. “Are you done exposing me to my girlfriend?” Yoongi snickered.

“Girlfriend” they responded in unison as though it was not enough to tease the two with mere look and the members were practically ganging up on them. With a proud smile spread across his face, Namjoon nodded in satisfaction “I am glad both of you are together and there is no bad blood between us. Not really all of us but the rest of you whom actually see Seul more than a friend” he stressed that part and glanced at Jungkook and Jin.

Jungkook and Jin exchanged a meaningful look as they heard their leader continued “We have known each other for as long as I can remember, this issue should have not jeopardized our friendship. And, I am proud of everyone for taking this matter maturely. Especially, you Gukk” Seul sent a grateful smile to his way, and he winked in response.

“I.. want what is best for Yoongi hyung, for Bangtan and for Seul-ie. I can handle this” “I am sorry” Seul mumbled before Jungkook could finish off his words.

“I don’t want the guilt consume my heart, but it can’t be helped sometimes. I am sorry, because of me you almost ruin everything that you build together” Jin and Jungkook shook their head, heaving a soft sigh.

Yoongi’s arm was automatically wrapped around her shoulder as a comfort “Baby, you don’t need to be sorry. It is not your fault” he gave the top of her head a soft peck. “We care for you and we love you dearly” Seul blinked his tears, allowing Yoongi to pull her small body into his embrace.

“Seul-ah, your existence in our life is the best gift that we ever had. Thank you for being our friend and to treat us not as a celebrity but just us” Jin professed earnestly. “It is a wonderful feeling, to be able to love you. We will cherish that deep in our heart” Jimin murmured watching the girl turned fifty shades of pink in Yoongi’s arms.

“Me too nuna. You will always be my first love” the maknae muttered shyly as Jimin nudged him with a teasing smile.

“I bet Jungkook has learned a lot from it” Jimin retorted.

Sitting quietly at the corner was Taehyung with a worried frown evident on his forehead “I am sorry for losing my shit that time and hurt your feelings. I can’t forget the foolish mistake that I commit, ugh stupid me” he puckered his lower lips in protest of his own demeanour.

“Taetae, I thought we have settled that stop blaming yourself. I understand why you did that so, let’s forget about those horrible fight okay?” her smile radiates the room.

“So, when can we meet ahjumma? I am dying to meet her!” Hoseok eyes glimmered with hope as others nodded in agreement. It is about time to meet their caretaker ahjumma considering the issues of her contract has been resolved. Therefore, it wouldn’t be a big problem for them to meet Seul’s mother.

She grinned widely “Oh, mother talked to me about that. She wishes to meet all of you soon probably after undergoing her kidney transplant” their face lit up in pure excitement upon hearing the news.

“Mrs Hwang finally get a donor, that’s cool! when is the date of her operation?”

“Next week and I will be taking few days off from work”

“But..we will be in Osaka next week” pressing his lips together, Yoongi hummed lowly. He really wanted to be by her side when the day come but knowing how it clashed with their Wings Tour in Osaka, Yoongi face harden at the thought.

Realizing his sour face, Seul slipped her arm around his waist admiring her boyfriend’s soft feature “I will be alright, focus on the tour okay?” at this point the rest of the soul inside the room were immune to the couple’s romantic gesture. As though watching them being touchy towards each other wasn’t enough to send chills down their spine.

“Maybe you can take the first flight after the concert end?” Jungkook suggested.

“No way, you guys need rest. Don’t think of flying anywhere after the concert” she frowned deeply despising the idea of leaving Macao without proper rest.

Yoongi seemed to be reconsidering the idea while glancing at the younger man with a grateful smile “That is not our first time. I like that idea Jungkook” Jungkook responded with a small salute.

“Baby you are not flying anywhere after the concert?!” Seul look bewildered as her eyes found its way to Jungkook, throwing daggers at his way.

“Baby~~” the guys chortled in unison once again causing the girl to squirm shyly. The eldest cringed not be able to handle more sweetness from them “As much as I like both of you I am so not used to see Yoongi and Seul together without fighting even for one minute” Yoongi swung his arm around Seul bringing the girl close to his body.

“She is using that mouth of hers for good things from now on” that remark earned a dissatisfied grunt from every member as they totally got what he meant by the good things. Rolling her eyes in annoyance, Seul chose to remain silent not going to get herself involved in the boys’ childish conversation.

---------------------

Breaking: Underground rapper Stephanie took down her Instagram post with an open apology to BTS’s Suga and Army.

This week, the industry was shaken by Suga’s dating scandal that involved Stephanie, a Korean-Canadian underground rapper. The Instagram’s post by Stephanie which claimed that she’s one of BTS Suga many girlfriends earlier this week was already taken down by the rapper.

Stephanie then in her recent Instagram’s post posted an open apology acknowledging her mistake for causing the unnecessary misunderstanding and worries. She denied the rumours of knowing BTS Suga personally as they had never met in the past. The scandalous Instagram’s post was said to be directed to someone else which had nothing to do with Suga.

Bighit seemed to be taken the matter pertaining to their artiste seriously as Stephanie’s management is willing to give their full cooperation to solve the issues without problems. Netizens on the other hand are not convinced with the news and demanded an explanation from Suga in the near future. Fans are enraged of the netizens who send malicious comment towards BTS and claim that Suga has nothing to explain as he’s not at fault.

Bighit has finally put BTS’s Suga and Stephanie dating rumours to rest with an official statement by the label today. The label states “ The dating rumours about Suga and Stephanie are not true. They’ve never met each other in the past. None of BTS members own a personal social media account apart from the official one. We are looking into this matter seriously and a legal action will be taken to those who spread false rumour about BTS. Please continue to love and support BTS in the future. Thank you”

Sprawling on the couch was Yoongi looking solemn and stress though the official statement by his label had cleared his name from the malicious rumours, he was worried of how it would affect the group as whole in the future. Guess, he must see it with his own eyes this Saturday during their concert.

Namjoon took a seat across him noticing Yoongi low energy ever since the article was out to public “Are you okay hyung? I think Bang Pd’s team had outdone themselves this time” he exclaimed softly fixing the glasses at the bridge of his nose.

“I don’t know. I am worried of how it will affect the group. The scandal was dirty and unacceptable Joon. If it only involve a dating scandal then it should be fine however.. this one.. people will be doubting BTS’s integrity and attitude. I am sorry..that it comes to this” he said in his deep voice.

The leader disagreed “You didn’t ask for this. It is never your fault, you are not the cause of this rumour to spread wildly like this. We know everything was a lie and we are in this together. Nothing can change that. There is no just BTS Suga, it is Bangtan Sonyeondan as whole. So, hyung don’t blame yourself for something you didn’t do” Yoongi sat up, rubbing his back head out of anger.

“What if it makes Seul doubt me?” it comes out nowhere, but his insecurity is severe since start, which is complicated for him to handle.

Unamused, Namjoon raised his brows with a perplexed look “Hyung, do you even hear yourself? Seul loves you with all her heart, what makes you think she will question your sincerity?” the latter shook his head in dismay.

“Both of you really need to spend a day together as if like a legit date. Have you even been to one?” the younger man pried answers from the already distressed man. Yoongi shook his head while recollecting the memories of him and Seul “One time, the bungee jumping” with that statement it brought laughter inside the room.

“Ew, who brings a woman to a bungee jumping for a date. Seriously hyung, you could do better. I am not amused” Namjoon retorted sarcastically.

Yoongi rolled his eyes offended by the leader response “It is romantic, and you should really try it out before laugh to my face” regaining his posture was Namjoon as he had a good time making fun of his hyung choice of date.

“Did Seul enjoy the date?”

“Of course!” he answered without any hesitation.

“I doubt that, knowing Seul, I bet you got cussed so hard that day” he chuckled at the thought of Seul’s fierce side.

Grunting lowly, Yoongi shot the fellow rapper a hard look shutting the guy’s mouth completely “Bring her to stargaze. Just both of you, a simple picnic-“ “Who does picnic at night?” suspicious with the ideas, he fired back earning a displease protest from the latter.

“I never heard picnic being associated with any period of time. I think this date fits both of you. You don’t like being in crowded place and prefer a quiet area. Seul doesn’t fancy an extravaganza date, so that will be perfect” he continued to fish Yoongi’s intrest.

“Picnic also means I have to cook something for us to eat” Yoongi expressed his concern.

Namjoon scrunched his nose in disbelief, if that’s what on his mind all this time then this man really need to get a dating class from a professional. “Prepare a simple one like sandwich. I thought we had enough practice from the Run BTS show, can’t you apply one of the recipes that we learned from that show for the sake of your date with Seul” he facepalmed as soon as Yoongi tilted his head in confusion.

“You do realize you can’t bring your proud ramen to a date right? Gosh, go and ask for Jin hyung’s help then” Yoongi loathed the idea of getting a help from Jin.

“He used to like Seul, I don’t trust him. What if he is planning to ruin my date by sabotaging the food?”

Overdramatic Yoongi was difficult to handle indeed. “Ramen is so unromantic hyung. I am against that choice of food. And, no alcohol. Seul doesn’t drink. Get help from Jin hyung to prepare a simple Kimbap at least. Who needs fancy food when all you do is making out?” his sarcasm has soared to a higher level challenging Yoongi’s ego.

“Yah! That is not true. Don’t turn me into a pervert”

“Aren’t you one?” a faint voice interrupted their serious conversation. Sweaty Jin sank beside the leader with a playful smile “So are you planning to take Seul out for a romantic date?” he inquired the obvious. “I can help you with the food. I know Seul’s favourite food” Yoongi glared in process while his mind insisted on accepting the older guy’s offer, but the jealousy stopped him from doing the right thing.

“Who is dating Seul here? You or Jin Hyung…” he teased the grumpy man.

“Shut it. What can you cook for Seul?” a wide grin spread across Jin’s face upon hearing the request from Yoongi’s mouth.

Jin chuckled “Grocery shopping in an hour” he threw the used towel at Yoongi as he arose from his seat to get changed. Unwilling to spend the day at the grocery some more with Kim Seokjin, Yoongi pushed his body up considering this thing involved Seul like he could bail on Jin.

--------------------------

Third attempt.

Fourth attempt.

Fifth attempt but came to no avail. There was no answer from Seul, now he wondered the girl’s whereabout. To begin with, this was Namjoon’s idea to not notify the busy girl beforehand about this date. He insisted that the surprise should start before the actual date took place.

“Kim Namjoon, I am so done with you” he grunted under his breath. Yoongi took this matter into his hand and decided to pick Seul up by his own. He should have done it sooner instead of listening to Namjoon’s fairy-tale.

The journey to Seul’s neighbourhood took approximately twenty minutes by public transportation. It has been a long time since he last used public transportation to anywhere. Even though he sneaked out once in awhile when he needed a fresh air, he avoided crowded place at all cost. Therefore, public transportation was not an option since he preferred to walk appreciating his surroundings.

He climbed up the stairs praying hard in his head that Seul would be home. On top of that, this would be his first time to meet Seul’s family. The thought of meeting their caretaker lady after years numbed his mind.

“Breath Min Yoongi.. Breath” he smoothed his sweaty palm against his dark wash jeans. Pressing the red button, he could hear heavy footsteps beyond the door hollering “Give me a second” not long after the door was opened wide.

Yoongi was welcomed by Hoon confused face “Yoongi hyung? What are you doing here?” he blinked rapidly making sure he’s seeing the right thing.

Swallowing the heavy lumps in his throat, he emitted a soft cough “Hi, Hoon. Ah, I am looking for Seul, is she home? She didn’t pick up my calls” Hoon shot him an unknowing smile and nodded in response to his early question.

“Nuna is home but she’s sleeping though. Do you want me to wake her up?”

“No, it is okay. Can I wake her up instead? I mean not to sound weird but yeah… I can do it, if you allow me” he mumbled shyly, rubbing the back of his neck in process.

Hoon chuckled lightly watching how a renowned rapper like Min Yoongi turned into an adorable puppy at his doorstep “You are nuna’s boyfriend, why should I mind if you want to wake her up. Come in hyung” he provided a space for Yoongi to walk.

“You know?” he entered the apartment.

“It is obvious. Plus, nuna is a bad liar. How can we not know? I am happy for you and nuna, please love my nuna and don’t hurt her” he closed the door behind him and led Yoongi to Seul’s bedroom.

Yoongi softened as a warm smile found its way on his handsome face “I promise to love her and to cherish her. She is an amazing woman, I won’t hurt her” Hoon opened the door to Seul’s room and signalled him to get inside.

“I trust you hyung. Mom would be happy to meet you, I will go get her. For now, go and wake nuna. She is a light sleeper, but it is hard to get her out from bed, so good luck” chuckling softly, he left Yoongi with one last ‘Hwaiting’.

He scanned the room admiring its ambience, simple and minimalistic just matched his personal preference. Now he had seen another side of Seul, it was another way in deepening their relationship.

Smiling bashfully to himself, he tore his gaze to the sleeping figure on the bed. Seul looked ten times cuter than she already did when she was asleep. His heart melted at the sight. Yoongi sat carefully not to wake her lover up.

You look effortlessly beautiful even in your sleep. He mentally complimented the girl before him. Unconsciously, his hand reached out to stroke the strand of her hair from covering her eyes. She stirred a little in her sleep, squinting her eyes in process as Yoongi returned to admire her sleeping face.

“Mmm..Hoon..What time is it” Seul croaked.

“Time for you to get up baby” he whispered playfully.

“Baby what?” reluctantly, she rubbed her eyes in protest. Even in this state, she never failed to amuse Yoongi with her grumpy side. What a thing to witness. Her eyes rounded in sheer horror realizing Yoongi’s presence in her room. Sitting up almost immediately, her hoarse voice boomed across the cold room “What in the world? Why are you here?!” she hissed.

“To take you out for a date, so get up” he grabbed her hands, pulling the lazy to girl to her feet.

“Yah, Min Suga! Don’t invade my personal space, you are unbelievable. And what date? That is so sudden!” ignoring the words that flew like a freaking bullet, he dragged the girl to the bathroom. “What are you doing get out!!!” she squirmed under his strong grasp.

Yoongi rolled his eyes, collecting her hair and tied it neatly into a bun. Dazed by his weird action, Seul didn’t know what to expect next. She watched him grabbing her purple toothbrush, pressing the toothpaste on it. Giving her no time to digest, he shoved the toothbrush inside her mouth softly.

“Open your mouth, wide” Yoongi motioned the girl to follow his action. She stared at their reflection through the mirror in disbelief. Did Min Yoongi just brush her teeth as if she’s 2 years old girl? Goodness, what the hell was he trying to do?

“Stay still, I am trying to brush your teeth woman!”

“I can do it by my own” Seul slapped his hand softly, allowing her to hold the brush instead. To her distaste, the stubborn man turned her body to face him and swept her up, placing her carefully at the edge of the marble top.

His brow flinched, unamused by Seul’s persistence “I will do it so can you just listen to me?” he swatted her hand, finally in charged of brushing Ji Seul’s teeth again. Unromantic and weird. Tired of fighting, Seul rolled her eyes only to earn a light smack on her forehead.

“Don’t be a brat” he snickered.

She puckered her lips, upset with the childish treatment. Seul shot her boyfriend a ‘I hate you forever’ look. Of course, that didn’t stop Yoongi to pamper her like a little girl. Yoongi stood in between her legs, and leaned forward to take a glass of water for Seul to rinse her mouth.

As much as she hated being treated like an incapable person, she enjoyed this soft moment with Yoongi. Something that never happened to before, so it was rather amusing to experience it with a guy like Yoongi. He dabbed her mouth with clean cloth and hung it loosely around her neck afterwards.

“Go shower and change. I will wait for you outside. Or do you want me to shower you? I am up for that” he smirked playfully.

“Ew, no. Unless you stink”

“I am not!” Seul giggled cutely, throwing her arms around his neck. “You smell just like my Min Yoongi” she nuzzled his face allowing the man to pull her body close.

“Stop seducing me, I don’t have self-control” he whispered against her lips, moving it painfully slow just to tease her patience. Murmuring softly, she softened her lips over his warmth one “Then, get out before I change my mind” he let out a low groan.

“I will make you pay soon” pulling the playful girl into a breathless kiss, he set her down giving her space to breathe. The more he stayed in the same room as hers, the dangerous it would be.

----------------

“Heol, nuna you don’t expect to go out for a date in that outfit, right?” his jaw hung low as his eyes scanned her sister from head to toes. Seul cringed in displeased upon hearing Hoon’s remarks “What is wrong with my outfit? It is my favourite hoodie and jeans” she puffed her cheeks.

“You look perfect” Yoongi chuckled softly exchanging look with Mrs Hwang whilst Hoon crossed his arm in disagreement.

“You look ugly” he corrected.

“Yah Ji Hoon! It is just a date with Min Yoongi. It is not a big deal! Mom, please tell me I look good in this?” she shoved her hands inside the pocket and pouted in hope to receive a morale support from her dear mother.

Mrs Hwang chided “ To me your outfit matched Yoongi-ah. So, I think you look pretty. Hoon stop making fun of your sister” she warned. “Next time I will dress you up prettily, now go and enjoy your date” she gave Yoongi’s hand a soft pat.

“Take care of my daughter and don’t forget to be careful. You don’t want to get caught by fans” he pulled his usual gummy smile. “I will make sure to protect Seul, ahjumma. Urm, we’ll get going now then. It is nice meeting you. The rest of the members are excited to see you soon”

“I know. Come and meet me once I get better, I will let you know. Seul, be nice to Yoongi. Do not be a kid” Seul pursed her lips and walked up to her mother for a brief hug. “Yoongi is the kid here anyway. See you later”

The lovebirds exited the house hand in hand finally to their very first date which was not a typical date inside Suga’s Genius Lab. Something new and exciting.

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Laying casually on the grass covered by a clean cloth beneath, they enjoyed the cold breeze and the shimmering stars above them. For once Namjoon’s idea worked today and Yoongi couldn’t be happier than this knowing he spend a quality time with the love of his life.

Yoongi had his hand encircled tightly around Seul’s waist, caressing it slowly enjoying the warmth that he gained from this proximity. Scooting closer to Yoongi, she grazed her fingers on his chest while continue stargazing.

“I wish to say like this forever” he broke the silence, followed by a satisfied sigh.

Seul propped her chin on his chest, gazing at Yoongi face lovingly. His lips curled into a charming smile as he pushed her up to match his level “Stop weakening my heart. You are hard to resist even now” his eyes bore into hers.

“I am not used to romantic Suga. Guess, I am going to live with that thought in my mind” she blushed, rubbing their nose together.

“Every moment that we spend together from now on, I will make sure it is something unforgettable. So you will love me even more” his sweet and alluring voice hummed, driving her heart to the edge of the cliff.

She stroked his jaws, trailing a kiss along his nose to the corner of his lips “I think I am falling for you deeper without trying. I am going to miss you, being this close to you” his lips broke into another charming smile.

“When you miss me, just look up. Because the moon is the same wherever you go” Yoongi slid his hand to her neck, caressing it softly. Melted into his deep gaze, she felt his face inched to hers and his breath fanned against her skin.

“I will find my way home because you are my home” nibbling on her lips, he hovered her lips, kissing her sweetly.

You are my home. She repeated in her head multiple time devouring herself into this sweet moment. Even the short kisses that they shared could render them breathless. Live in the moment and paint it with beautiful memories, because it is worth it.

#btscaretaker #bts series #bts fanfiction #bts fic #bts idolau #jungkook x oc #bts x oc #yoongi x oc #yoongi fic #jungkook fic #suga fic #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction

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jusananimehoe · 4 years

Text

Play with Me?

Here kiddies, have 2000 words at 3am of Chronostasis, the man is just so sexy, I can’t help but write him, especially in situations where reader is meant to be with Kai, woops, xx

“Catch me if you can”. Your giggles clearly weren’t amusing him, if the angry growl that rumbled through his mask was anything to judge by, but you laughed it off and went bolting through the corridors, breathing ragged, pulse racing as you pushed yourself faster, he’d catch you eventually of course, he always did, but until then, you’d have you fun. This side of the base was mostly empty, no Kai to terrorize you for just having fun, just fun to be had with your favorite babysitter, even if he was ready to murder you right now.

You leapt up onto the railing of a stairway, before jumping up into the rafters, grip tight on the pipes lining the roof to hold you carefully in place, eyes glimmering playfully at the annoyed man below you, you could practically feel his frustration, could see his scowl even through the mask. He gripped the railing tightly, gazing up at you, “You aren’t going to like what happens if you make me come up there”. His voice was ice cold, it sent enjoyable chills through you, shivers down your spine, all the way to your toes, it made you bite your lip, head tilting playfully to the side, outwardly flirting. Not that he’d ever notice, Kurono might as well have been blind to your affections for him, but then you were supposed to belong to Kai after all. Not that he’d ever touched you. Or ever would.

“Oh come on Hari”, you called back to him, smile widening as he sniffed unhappily at the use of his given name, it was an act and you knew it, he’d never of told you it if he hadn’t wanted you to use it, but god forbid he ever admitted any such thing to you. “You never play with me, just one game, please”, your heartbroken pout did little to persuade the yakuza below you, who was starting to lift himself up the railing, time to fly. You leapt off the roof, landing safely on the edge of a couch that lined the wall, and just as you straightened up to leap, you were trapped against it.

You squeaked in surprise and shoved Hari’s shoulder playfully, giggling as he pressed you back harder, he was always surprising you, so much stronger than that lean body would suggest. Your eyes dragged down it, tying to imagine what he might be hiding under that raincoat of his, the plain white pants could defintley fuel a fantasy or two when they were wet though. You chewed on your lip, eyes raking his lower half, before you snapped your gaze back up, unable to tell if he’d noticed your appraisal with his mask on. Let’s fix that.

You lunged forwards at him, and he reeled back, keeping a careful balance to prevent the two of you from falling, which ultimately led to you gaining an upper hand, pulling the mask from his face and throwing it before he could grab it, the glare he turned on you in return was so fucking worth it. Even furious with you, Hari Kurono was crafted from perfection. Silver hair falling just slightly across his face, you resisted the urge to carefully push a needle back behind his ear, losing yourself in those lovely, silver eyes of his even as he growled at you, leaning forwards again. Most people would have run from his rage, you giggled and rolled the two of you.

You wrestled half-heartedly with him, trying to win, to no avail, as he pinned you down below him. Maybe this is a win then? Your eyes flickered up to his pretty face, observing the flush in his cheeks from chasing you down, the disarray his hair was in, the annoyed glint in his eyes, accompanied by another emotion you couldn’t place, couldn’t hope for. You beamed at him, even as he frowned unhappily and then burst into laughter at his indignation. “Oh Hari, I just don’t get why you never want to play”.

He rolled his eyes but let you roll the two of you, allowing you to pretend, at least, that you’d gained the upper hand on him, straddling his waist, pressing him down, even as his grip on your wrists clamped tighter. No escape, not that you’d want to. He clearly didn’t realise how sexy he looked like that, pinned beneath you, hair shoved back, god you wanted to touch it. “You never specify a game”.

You were so distracted in your appraisal of him that you nearly missed his response, eyes snapping to his in surprise when your brain caught up to his words, raising a brow at him in a silent question. “You complain constantly that I never entertain your ‘playing’, and yet, you’ve never once specified what game we’re meant to be playing”. His voice was cool, bored, aloof, but there was a hint of genuine curiosity hidden in there, you just had to be familiar enough with him to dig it out. You should just go for it, what’s the worst he could do, tell Kai? It wouldn’t end with a great result, but did you care? No, not really.

You blinked down at him, biting your lip slowly as you dragged your hand slowly from the tops of his thighs, steadily up and over his chest, eyes glued to his expression the whole time, watching his chest contract in surprise as he drew a sharp breath in, grip on your wrists becoming painful as he jerked your hands off his body. “Silly Hari, we’re playing right now”, you whispered softly, head lowering as you lowered your body to his, wanting to feel more of him against you. “We’ve been playing all along, you see”? You whispered the words against his throat, nuzzling the skin there softly as he flinched and shoved you back, eyes hardening like jewels again. Here we go.

“No”. The word was sharp, commanding, it was his ‘this is final’ tone and you dropped your face instantly, shame settling deep in your gut. How pathetic, to throw yourself at him, seriously? You leaned back, hips rubbing unintentionally against his, drawing a soft gasp from you at the hardness you felt there. Hari, to his credit, barely blinked, but he did blink. You squirmed slightly again, feeling it rub against the growing heat of your core, watching in amazement as Hari’s eyes fluttered even as he growled at you. “No, we’re not playing this game”.

He sat up sharply, clearly intending to push you off, but you pulled your hands free instead, looping them tightly around his neck even as his head dropped back in exasperation, glaring at you. “Just tell me you don’t want me then, not one bit, you don’t want me at all, and I’ll leave you be”. Your soft murmur against his lips had you shivering again, and yet Hari seemed barely affected, cold, silver eyes boring into yours. He didn’t respond though, he didn’t say it, he didn’t say he didn’t want you but he didn’t say he did either. You ran a finger carefully over the needle of hair that had fallen in his face, brushing it back carefully and nearly flinching when he sighed softly. Sensitive, are they?

You pressed closer, chasing the heat of his mouth, panting softly against him. “One little game Hari, what’s one little game going to matter?” You licked softly at the corner of his mouth, feeling him arch underneath you sharply at the motion, eyes flickering up to yours, pupils dilated wildly, half in lust, half in panic. “Play with me Hari, please”, you whimpered softly, hips rocking against the growing tent in his pants as his eyes fluttered, only semi-hard but it felt huge.

“He’ll kill you”, whispered softly against your throat, warm breathing leaving goose-bumps on your skin as he breathed raggedly against you. Wet mouth sending shivers up and down your spine, wanting him to kiss you so badly. He lipped very gently at your jawline as you stretched into him, motion a silent plea for more. “He’ll kill you and then me as well, that’s what your little game will get us, and you know it”, his voice was breathy, snarky, but breathy, he wanted it too, you could tell. You leaned closer then, licking softly at the shell of his ear, smirking softly as his hips jerked forward against you, fingers tangling angrily in your hair, ripping your head back so he could face you, eyes glittering as you panted desperately against his mouth.

“So desperate, and I’ve barely touched you”, were the last words whispered softly against your lips before his lips slotted slowly against yours, testing, careful, even as you moaned softly into his mouth, hands tightening in his hair as his came to dig into your hips, pulling you flush against him. “Stupid, stupid little girl”, he spat, and then he licked into your mouth, tongue tasting the insides of your mouth in detail, exploring every little crevice, leaving you shaking and trembling in his lap as you rubbed slowly against his clothed erection, grinding down carefully to try and give him better friction, rewarded with a soft hum of pleasure against your mouth. You needed more.

His fingers dug into your waist tighter, but careful enough that it wouldn’t bruise before he pulled away to carefully nip at your jawline. You gasped and moaned softly at his ministrations, fingers pulling his hair, desperate for more of him. “He wont even care”, you moaned softly as he mouthed sloppily over the column of your throat, always careful with the hints of teeth. “He’s never wanted me, not really, and I’ve never wanted him”, you continued softly as his hands wandered up to cup your breasts through your shirt, drawing a deep, throaty groan from you. “Only-oh yes-only ever you”, you gasped out eventually, listening to his answering groan, as he dragged you closer, lifting your shirt carefully.

“Hari, please”, you whispered softly, dragging a soft groan from him as his name fell so haggardly from your lips, the desperation, the longing in it had him pressing closer instantly, tongue lapping slowly up your throat as he gradually pulled up your shirt, desperate to get his mouth around those perky buds.

“Chronostasis, where are you, did you find her?”

You’d never moved faster in your life, leaping from his lap like it had burned you, even though you desperately wanted to climb back into it and stay there forever. Hari had somehow got to his feet, pushed his erection down, and shoved his mask back on, and all before Kai came round the corner. He leaned over, grabbed you by the elbow, expression shifting back to annoyance, and strode forward to meet the yakuza boss even as you stared at the ground miserably.

“She just went for a little run, up to mischief, the usual, it was no hassle boss”, the words hurt, though you knew he had to say them or risk both of you being killed. You finally looked up, gaze meeting Kai’s before dropping it swiftly again, the disgust there drowned Hari’s annoyance right out.

“Excellent work Chronostasis, I must say, you caught her in record time. See to it that you don’t have to catch her at all in future, simply put, teach the little beast how to behave”. The ice in his voice made you tremble and shake even as Hari nodded and affirmed his agreement, twisting the knife even deeper, but at least Kai was turning away, he wasn’t glaring at you anymore, probably a good thing, he’d just hurt you more if he saw the single tear slip from your eye, might even slap it away, just to prove a point.

You walked forward in Hari’s grip, eyes downcast, flinching slightly when a warm hand brushed your tear away, you blinked in shock and turned to glance at him but his mask stayed pointed firmly forward, not a single look in your direction, even as his thumb began to stroke soothing circles around your elbow, a small smile tugging at the corner or your lips before you shoved it away.

Maybe he’d play more next time round.

#chronostasis #bnha chronostasis #overhaul #bnha overhaul #shie hassaikai #hari kurono #kai chisaki #eight precepts of death #myheroacademia #my villain academia #league of villains

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thepeacetea · 5 years

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Broken Angels Ch. 5

Hi everyone! Sorry this one came out a little later, but here it is. Though I do have to say, I don’t know where you guys got the idea that Marinette is Jason’s sister. I don’t think I ever remember saying that. Oh well. Anyway, thank you all again for the likes, comments, and reblogs. I tried to tag everyone, but if I missed you, just send me a message and I’ll get you next chapter. You all really seemed to enjoy the last chapter, so I hope ya’ll enjoy this one! Again, if you have any comments, questions, or suggestions, let me know. Hope ya’ll enjoy! Peace!

“I swear, if you don’t get out of my way right now, I will kill you! NOW. LET. ME. GO!”

It wasn’t the threat that caused the family to pause. No, they received death threats everyday. Nothing new there. It was the pure rage, desperation, and panic that radiated off Jason that caused them to hesitate. They had never seen him like this. Sure, they had seen him angry, they had even seen him worried. But they had never seen him panicked. Ever. No one, that is, except for Alfred. As he watched the young man yell and threaten his family, his brothers, Alfred was reminded of the one time Jason had displayed that same amount of panic.

It had been three weeks since the boy had been in the hospital. Three weeks since Master Bruce had found him in that ally beaten half to death. Three weeks since he had been in the coma. Alfred had been coming in faithfully for those 24 days like clockwork. He would arrive precisely at nine and leave when visiting hours where over. Bruce would occasionally come for an hour or two and Dick had dropped in once or twice, but most days it was just Alfred. Most days he would just sit in the room and read. Nothing changed for three, long weeks.

It was around 4:00 p.m. on day 24 that the boy woke. The subtle shifting was Alfred’s first indication that he was waking up. The soft groan that followed almost made the old man smile. If the boy was feeling pain, then that was a good sign. It meant he was healing. The boy forced his eyes open and for the first time, Alfred looked into the blue eyes of the newest member of the Wayne family.

The boy blinked a slowly a few time, carefully shifting in the bed to scan his surrounding, muttering something that sounded like ‘Nettie’. Confusion flashed across his face as he surveyed the hospital room before landing on Alfred. For a moment, Alfred let the boy just look at him, giving him a chance to collect himself before speaking. But he never got a chance to.

In a split second, the boy’s eyes went from clouded with confusion to recollection. Alfred watched as the boy’s eyes grew impossibly wide as panic leaped in.

“NETTIE! WHERE’S NETTIE?” the volume of the question was more on tune with a scream then a shout as the boy shot up from his position, fully intending on leaving the bed.

“Sir, you need to calm down. You’re in no condition to be walking.” Alfred stated, rushing forward to prevent the boy from getting up.

“NO! NO! I HAVE TO FIND NETTIE! SHE’S OUT THERE AND SHE WOULDN’T RUN! SHE WOULDN’T RUN AND THEY WERE GONNA HURT HER!”

The shouting caught the attention of the staff. Nurses and one of the doctor’s came running in a panic. They were greeted with the sight of the comma boy wide awake desperately trying to get out of bed, while his temporary guardian was trying to hold him down.

“Kid, listen. You need to calm down. You just woke up from a comma. You’re still healing.” One of the nurses said, rushing to help hold the boy down.

“NO, YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND! I HAVE TO FIND NETTIE! SHE’S OUT THERE ALONE AND I NEED TO FIND HER! I HAVE TO FIND PIXIE! I NEED TO FIND MY SISTER! NOW! LET! ME! GO!” He ordered, the panic giving him enough strength to throw the nurse and Alfred off him and into the wall.

The doctor used that momentary distraction to his full advantage. Moving faster then the boy, the doctor injected a sedative into his body. The thrashing he was doing speed up the reaction as his body started to relax.

“No, please. I have to find her. She needs me. She needs me!” The boy said, his voice cracking as tears made their way down his face. “. . . . I need her.” he whispered the last part before his body relaxed. Forcing him into a state of forgetfulness.

As the medical staff buzzed around the boy, Alfred just looked at him. The boy may be asleep, but he wasn’t forgetting. The whimpers proved that. He wouldn’t be forgetting any time soon.

“Jason, we are not going to let you go out to do god knows what until you tell us what is going on.” Master Bruce’s voice snapped Alfred out of his memory. “And I think a good place to start is how you know that girl.”

“Yeah, its not like you’ve cared about accident victims before.”

“Or anyone for that matter.”

The last statement was from Damian, who had said it in an attempt to snap whatever state of panic his brother was in. Though he may not admit it, he was concerned for his older brother. Panicked was not something Jason ever was, and it honestly scared the youngest. He knew that it would snap him out of panic, but no one was ready for what it snapped Jason into.

Jason’s eyes flashed from panicked blue to almost murderous. If looks could kill, then the family would have been turned to ash. Everyone, including Bruce, fought the urge to step back. Jason never was one to keep his tempter in check, and the family had seen many explosive episode, but none prepared them for what they were seeing. To see Jason go from laughing, to panicked, to looking ready to murder them, in under the course of a few minutes, was terrifying.

“How do I know her? Why do I care?” he hissed, his mouth pulling back into a snarl, eyes flashing dangerously. “She’s my f*cking sister! That’s how I know her!” He yelled, his words echoing off the walls of the manor.

“I thought . . . I thought she was dead for seven years. Seven! Then I see her on the news after almost getting killed by that frecking driver looking like someone’s been beating her! So get the hell out of my way!” he shouted, his voice hitching slightly at the mention of her injuries.

“Jason, think rationally for a moment. It’s late. Even if she still was at the station, they wouldn’t let you in. They would be monitoring everyone who’d go see her. Only her legal guardians could, even then, they would be under scrutiny because of the state she’s in. If you go down there like this, with no form of prof of your claim, they could very well arrest you under suspicion of abuse.” Bruce said, physically putting himself between Jason and the door. He spoke low, logical. It wasn’t quite his Batman voice. No. But it worked better.

For a few, very long seconds, the two men stared at each other, neither breaking contact. Both tense, ready to fight. Jason’s fists shook with pent up energy, his entire body taunt. The silence stretched from seconds to a minute, with no one daring to move.

“ . . . you have a sister?” Dick finally asked, breaking the tense silence with the question everyone had.

“Nettie. My little Nettie.” The confirmation came almost without thinking, Jason’s eyes never leaving Bruce. “She was always so tiny. No matter how much I tried to feed her, she never grew. We were both convinced she had some pixie blood that prevented her from growing. But what she lacked in size, she made up for in heart. Tch, her heart was always too big, ‘specially when I first met her.”

“You look cold.”

The tiny voice startled Jason. He almost thought he had imagined it as it seemed to blend in with the wind. Looking up, he found an incredibly tiny two-year-old girl staring at him, wide blue eyes blinking slowly. The kid’s face was red from the cold as the bitter February wind tore through the streets of Gotham.

“What?” He hadn’t meant to ask that. It just slipped out.

“I said you look cold.” The tiny fairy said, waiting for an answer.

“That’s because I am cold.” Jason growled. He didn’t have the time or the patience to talk with this kid. He was trying to stay warm. He had gotten kicked out of his last place and he hadn’t been able to find a new one to hole up in. He didn’t want to spend time talking with an over curious kid.

A tug on his sleeve brought his eyes back to the girl. She was tugging on his coat sleeves, trying to pull him up. While she obviously couldn’t, Jason was a little impressed at the strength she did seem to have.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his brows scrunching together at the girl’s actions.

“Well, you said that cold so I’m taking you to my house. It’s not very warm, but warmer then out here.” She grunted, still trying to pull Jason to his feet.

“Thanks kid, but I don’t think your parents would be too happy with that.” He explained, gently pulling his hand out of hers. She seemed sweet. And caring.

“Oh, I don’t have parent’s, so they wont mind. An’ I have blankets an’ some food an’ you can stay with me.” She said, a cheer in her tone that caught Jason by surprise. This girl, this two-year-old was on her own and offering him, a total stranger, to stay with her.

“Kid, didn’t anyone tell you not to talk to strangers? And how old are you?”

“I’m five. An’ yeah, I’ve been told not to talk to strangers. But you’re nice. You won’t hurt me.”

“Really, and makes you think that?” Jason asked, momentarily ignoring the question of why a five-year-old looked so small, and focusing on why she thought he was safe. Her answer surprised him.

“Your eyes.”

“My eyes?”

“Yup. You have good eyes. You . . . care even if you don’t show it. You’ve been hurt before, but you still care what happens to other people. And you don’t always follow the rules, but you do what you think is best. You do what you have to do. You’re good.”

That answer shocked Jason. This little girl. This tiny, pixie like five-year-old, was telling him that he was good, that he was worth something. She was too trusting. Too soft. Something tugged at his heart at the thought of someone taking advantage of her.

“Alright you pixie, I’ll come with you. But just for tonight.” The words were out of his mouth before he could even register what he was saying. The smile she sent him seemed to make the air a little warmer, but it fell after a moment.

“I’m not a pixie, though. Pixie’s are pretty, and nice, and magical, and I’m not.”

Seeing how she seemed to shrink into herself, Jason felt that tug again. Smiling, he knelt beside her, gently guiding her chin up to meet his eyes.

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that. You’re tiny, just like one, you have the most uniquely beautiful blue eyes. And you seem pretty magical to me. You where able to tell I was a good guy just by looking at my eyes. And you’re offering me a place to stay, and that’s really nice. So yeah, I think you’re my pixie.”

For the longest time, the girl just stood there looking at Jason, as if trying to see if he was telling the truth. Finally, that same, heart warming smile made its way back on her face.

“I . . . I guess you’re right. But if I’m your pixie, can you be my big brother?”

‘Big brother?’ Those word caused something to tighten in his chest. He didn’t know how to be one. He had no idea how to care for someone younger. He wasn’t exactly the safest person to be around. He was in trouble more often then not. But . . . she didn’t have anyone to look after her. And she was too trusting. She needed someone to look after her. He couldn’t just leave her after everything he just said. The coil in his chest just tightened, agreeing with everything his mind thought of. Glancing at her, he found her looking at him with so much hope shining in those eyes, that he knew there could only be one answer.

“As long as I get your name, pixie-pop.”

“Marinette, but everyone calls me Nettie. What’s your name?”

“. . .Jason.”

The smile that she gave him sealed the deal. He was going to be her big brother. He was going to protect His pixie.

“Well then Nettie, lead the way.”

@mystery-5-5 @captainmac6 @you-will-never-know-how-i-think @mochinek0@sonif50 @zalladane @thebananathatwrites @schrodingers25 @kuroko26 @miraculousbelladonna @souleaterlicestein @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @ijustwannabecanadian @ellerahs @ranger-paladinikoe @xxmadamjinxx @derpingrainbow @sassy-spocko @vixen-uchiha @mjisntme @iggy-of-fans @violentbisexualprophecywriter @valeks-princess @crazylittlemunchkin @redscarlet95 @alexzandria-747 @ayuchan07 @whomthefyck @rhub4rb @constancetruggle @rikku052 @kurogaya913 @shizukiryuu @spicybelladonna @zazzlejazzle @luciferge @mewwitch @emotionalsupportginger @grunklestantheman @my-name-is-michell @northernbluetongue @chez-pezeater @shamefullove @goggles-mcgee @gingerdaile @zebrabaker @tinybrie @bluefiredemon @tbehartoo @god-is-dead-and-so-am-i @shyestofhearts @darkthunder1589 @fridayfirefly @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @yazi-ing @lunar-wolf-warrior @ladylb @vivilakitty @ghostcryptid @casual-darkness @yamadochie @thatrandomfandomgirl @mindfulmagics @myriad-of-passionate-pettiness @violatiger8 @seraphichan @synnesstra @friedchickening @kiara-rose-blackthorn

#maribat #daminette #batfam #mainette #damian wayne #jason todd #jim gordon #big brother jason #tim drake #dick grayson #bruce wayne #ml salt #marinettes class #angst with happy ending #fanfic

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keig-hoe-takami · 3 years

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Chapter 4

Masterlist

The three friends gaped at the crowd around the UA campus, it was only the third day of school and already news reporters were circling the school gates.

‘Excuse me! You three there!’ a reported yelled as the students were noticed by the group ‘What’s it like being All Might’s pupils?’ Voices converged into one as more reporters hounded them for comments.

‘Come on guys, here.’ Kirishima put his arms around the two girls to the side of him, dragging them forcefully through the crowd, ‘He’s a great teacher, we’re really learning a lot from him!’ He shouted in the hopes of calming the crowd down, he succeeded partially, allowing the three to finally rush through the gates.

‘Oh my god that was crazy!’ Ichirou gasped, ‘I didn’t realise people would be so interested in All Might being a teacher!’

‘I mean, I guess it is pretty cool since he’s the number one hero,’ Kirishima said, looking back at the still restless crowd,

‘I hope they don’t use those pictures, you messed up my damn hair Kiri!’ Mina cried out as she tried to flatten the now frizzy mess,

‘Sorry Mina, I didn’t mean to- just wanted to protect you that’s all.’ Kirishima apologised,

‘Spoken like a true hero.’ Ichirou said, ‘I’m sure they wont use the pictures though, they’ll probably want some more candid photos.’ Mina smiled at her, slightly reassured.

‘Lets get on with home room notices…’ Mr Aizawa said calmly, ‘I’m sorry to have to spring this on you all, but we need to pick a class president.’

A ripple of excitement rolled over the class, finally they were going to be doing something school like!!

‘I wanna be class president!’ Kirishima cried out,

‘I love leader positions- Ill do it!’ Mina challenged

‘I wanna do it too!’ The girl in front of Ichirou said, almost everyone had raised their hands, Ichirou included, excited for the opportunity to prove themselves at UA.

‘BE QUIET!!’ A loud, commanding voice caused everyone to turn to the back of the room, Tenya Iida began to speak, ‘This is a task laden with responsibility where you must carry and pull everyone else’s weight! Just because you’d like to do it doesn’t mean you can!’ The tall boy had a point but he seemed to be taking the entire thing way to seriously, ‘It is a holy office that requires the great esteem and trust of those around you…! The only truly worthy leader will emerge from a democratic choice reflecting the will of the people! It must be settled with a vote!

‘But everyone will just vote for themselves!’ Kirishima shouted back,

‘Which is why the person who does earn multiple votes will be the truly appropriate person for the job, no?!’ Iida explained, Ichirou understood exactly what he meant, and placed a hand on Kirishima’s shoulder in warning.

In the end, almost everybody voted for themselves, and Ichirou wasn’t innocent. It was true that she didn’t really know anyone well enough yet to assume that they would be a good leader, though she was pleased that Momo had won vice-president, but she had also wanted to see if she could have won.

Midoriya stood at the class next to the taller girl, nervously shaking as he excepted his place as class president, ‘So then its president Midoriya and vice-president Yaoyorozu.’ Aizawa confirmed, stepping out of his sleeping bag.

The lunch rush cafeteria was just as amazing as usual; Ichirou and Mina took their seats with the boys at an empty table.

‘I’ve been talking to Asui quite a lot, she’s the frog girl who sits behind me,’ Mina explained to Ichirou, ‘I think she’s really nice, told me to call her Tsu- so I guess that means we’re friends!’,

‘That’s great, you’ll have to introduce me,’ Ichirou smiled at her friend as the two tucked into their noodles, ‘Sometimes Jirou turns round to chat to me, she so cool- her dad was in a band or something like that.’

‘She sounds awesome, there’s so many cool people in our class! I don’t even have a backstory.’ Mina sulked,

‘What do you mean you don’t have a backstory, you weirdo.’ Ichirou questioned,

‘Well, Kiri dyed his hair, and you don’t have a dad-‘ Mina started,

‘Hey, those jokes are only funny if I do them.’ Ichirou jokingly narrowed her eyes at the girl,

‘Whatever,’ Mina stuck her tongue out at her,

‘Besides, you saved those girls from that villain, that’s backstory.’ Ichirou motioned with her fork,

‘Don’t remind me of that! It’s so scary to think of!’ Mina covered her eyes, shaking her head,

‘Sorry Pinky, but you were so brave!’ Ichirou nudged the girl next to her,

‘Move up.’ Ichirou looked up at the recognisably gruff voice above her, her eyes met with Bakugou’s stern face. The girl smiled, sliding along the bench to allow the boy to sit next to her.

‘Baku-bro!’ Kirishima said, ‘Didn’t expect you to actually come sit with us!’

‘Don’t make a big deal of it shitty-hair.’ Bakugou replied, sending a glare in Kirishima’s direction, the boy put his hands up in surrender, Denki and Sero’s eyes widened,

‘Hey we got the same meal!’ Ichirou exclaimed as she saw Bakugou begin eating his noodles, ‘Mina got it too.’ She added, becoming nervous as Bakugou didn’t reply,

‘They’re pretty good.’ The boy mumbled as he finished his dish quickly, holy shit he eats fast- Ichirou thought to herself, turning to Mina who was wiggling her eyebrows suggestively back at Ichirou who faked puking to save face.

Suddenly, a loud blaring noise rang out through the cafeteria, ‘SECURITY LEVEL 3 HAS BEEN BREACHED. STUDENTS, PLEASE PROMPTLY EVACUATE.’

‘Evacuate!’ Denki exclaimed as the group left their seats, joining the crowd of teenagers trying to get to the school safety points,

‘It means someone’s infiltrated the school grounds!’ A voice shouted over the crowd, whipping the students into an even bigger frenzy. Ichirou was jostled into a wall by her upperclassmen as they raced to the door, finding it difficult to see her friends thanks to the tall 3rd years,

‘Mina! Kiri, where are you?’ She cried out, becoming stressed at the chaos of the situation as she was pushed into the wall again, face first this time. She had no clue what was going on. Her ears were ringing with the crescendo of voices and her tail was hidden between her legs in fear. Overwhelmed, she turned again, hoping to catch a glimpse of Mina’s pink hair, instead she was met by another wall.

‘Watch yourself, runt.’ Ichirou looked up to see Bakugou standing above her, ‘listen, this is those damn reporters, alright? Don’t go running around like a damn idiot.’

‘O-okay.’ Ichirou mumbled, dangerously aware of how close the two were, she was practically trapped by his strong chest,

‘The hells up with your damn ears?’ The boy questioned abruptly, noticing the way they twitched, moving independently in all directions,

‘Um, its just loud.’ Ichirou answered, her tail wiggling from side to side as she felt her entire body heat up,

‘Huh.’ Bakugou grunted, before promptly flattening the girls ears with his hands, dulling the sound and pulling her even closer to him. Ichirou’s eyes went wide at the sudden intrusion, the sensitivity of her ears causing the speed of her tail to increase rapidly, thrashing from side to side as she gripped the boys forearm.

Ichirou wasn’t sure how much time passed in this position, but she was soon taken out of her trance as Bakugou lifted his hands from her ears.

‘Its over.’ He stated, the somewhat dazed girl lifted her head from where she had burrowed into his front, she looked around noticing Iida being helped down from a doorway? How he’d got there she didn’t know- ‘He jumped.’ Bakugou stated as he took a step back from the girl, Ichirou nodded in acknowledgement as her arm dropped back to her side. Bakugou nodded back before sticking his hands in his pockets and turning to walk away.

‘For the foundational skill of heroics we’ll study today,’ Aizawa started as his class calmed down, ‘It was decided you’ll be supervised by a three-man team comprising of me, All Might and somebody else.’ Decided? Ichirou thought to herself, what were they going to be doing that needed three teachers?

‘Be the hero everyone need, whether it’s a flood or any other disaster’ The teacher dramatically revealed the activity, ‘It’s the trail of rescue!!’ Ichirou’s face broke into a smile, thanks to her wolf traits, rescue was surely going to be a strong point of hers.

‘Trail of rescue… sounds a bit difficult this time round…’ Kaminari pondered,

‘Cmon, dumbass, that’s what a hero’s whole job is!! I’m chomping at the bit!!’ Kiri replied, almost jumping out of his chair in his excitement,

‘As I was saying,’ Aizawa continued, staring down the two boys, ‘This time, it’s entirely up to each of you whether or not you wear your costume. Some of your costumes probably aren’t adapted to the task at hand, after all. The training area is fairly far away, so we’ll get there by bus. That’s all.’

‘I cant believe we’re going on a school trip!’ Mina swung Ichirou and hers hands as the two girls walked to the bus,

‘Same! I wonder who the somebody else Sensei was talking about is.’ Ichirou nodded in agreement as they came to a stop,

‘In order to get everybody seated smoothly on the bus, file into two lines according to your numbers.’ Iida, the classes new president, shouted to the waiting students,

‘Damn it, we cant sit next to each other! Why’d Iida do that.’ Mina sulked,

‘I think he’s pretty good, besides we’re close to each other so don’t worry.’ The other girl reassured as they parted to find their space in line. Ichirou was one of the last on the bus, but she soon realised poor Iida’s system had failed, no one was sat in their right places,

‘Rou!! I saved you a seat!’ Mina called from one of the benches at the front of the bus and Ichirou soon found herself sat between her and Kaminari,

‘So it ended up being this kind of bus anyway!’ Iida said defeatedly as he sat next to Mina,

‘Yeah there was no poi-‘ the girl began,

‘I think you did really well organising it Iida!’ Ichirou interrupted, sending a glare to her friend,

‘Thank you, Sato.’ Iida replied, turning to the girl,

‘Oh, call me Ichirou, we already have a Sato in this class.’ She said smiling and giving the boy a thumbs up,

‘Alright, Sa- Ichirou.’ Iida nodded his appreciation before turning to talk to Midoriya, Ichirou turned to her friends, who seemed to be in the middle of a conversation,

‘I’m kinda jealous of that kind of simple enhancer type quirk, though! There a lot you can do with one, and flashily too!’ Kirishima complimented Midoriya, ‘My hardening power isn’t bad for punch-ups, but I hate that its just not that flashy.’

‘Well , I think its an awesome quirk! Definitely a quirk that’ll be great use to a pro!’ Ichirou smiled at Midoriya’s reassurance, she was beginning to really like the strange boy.

‘Besides, Kiri, you know heroics has a lot about it that’s more like a popularity contest too, right?? You’re so nice I’m sure you’ll do great!’ Ichirou chimed in,

‘Yeah, like everyone’s gonna love Ichirou bc she’s like a teddy bear!’ Mina patted the girls head, rubbing at her ears as Ichirou leaned into the touch,

‘If we’re talking the double whammy of flashy and strong, you can’t not mention Todoroki and Bakugou!’ Kirishima added, deflecting attention,

‘Bakugou’s always fuming, so he wont be very popular.’ Asui mentioned, offhandedly, clearly not realising what she was saying,

‘The hell did you say! I’ll be popular, too!!’ The boy exploded from behind them, gripping the rails in front of him.

‘It’s only been a brief while since our socialisation has commenced and yet already we have been made apodictically cognisant of your personality, redolent as it is of a turd getting steamed in a sewer.’ Kaminari pressed the boy to further anger, Ichirou smacked his arm as she stifled a laugh,

‘Huh?! What the hell kinda vocabulary is that?! Ill fucking kill you!!’ Bakugou was practically bending the railing in anger, face scrunched up in a terrifying, but almost cute, fit of rage,

‘Damn Bakugou, you are one fouled mouthed dude.’ Kaminari continued, despite the fear in his eyes, and Ichirou had half a mind to smack a hand over the boys mouth.

‘We’re almost there. Settle down already…’ Aizawa ordered, before Bakugou jumped the railing and attacked Kaminari,

Bakugou kept his eyes trained on the poor boy, eyebrows drawn in a scowl. Ichirou looked at him subconsciously, wondering how in the world the boy could get so angry, that is, until his eyes flickered onto hers. She raised an eyebrow, snapping out of her thoughts quickly, but the boy didn’t reply, instead deciding to turn away as he so often did when their eyes met.

Ichirou’s eyes lit up as she finally saw the wide expanse of simulations the class would be training with, she shared a look with Mina whose own eyes were wide- the place looked like an amusement park!

‘Is this USJ or something?!’ Ichirou heard behind her, she had heard of the place before when researching UA as a school,

‘This is a practical training area I created to simulate all kinds of accidents and disasters,’ A voice came from the right, causing the student to turn and meet the 3rd teacher they’d be working with- the space hero 13! ‘It’s name is… the Ultimate Space for Jams!!’ they finished as the class burst in excitement,

‘I cant believe its 13!!’ Mina grabbed Ichirou’s hand and gripped tightly, gasping at the thought of meeting another pro hero,

‘I know! And they’re going to be teaching us!’ Ichirou added, just as excited as her friend to be learning from such an amazing hero.

‘Before we begin, just a thing,,, or two,’ 13 started again as the chatter died down, ‘I’m certain you’re all already quite aware, my quirk is called ‘black hole’ no matter what material may get sucked into its vortex, I’m afraid it will turn into dust.’

‘That’s a quirk perfect for removing wreckage and saving people injured by disasters!’ Midoriya shouted out excitedly,

‘Yes… it is, however, a power that could also be easily used to kill people. And in that way, it’s no different from the quirks of everyone here.’ At those words, Ichirou felt herself tremble, remembering how long it took for her to get used to her claws, how she would wake up scratched and bloody from restless nights, how she cut her friends, teachers, her own mother. ‘Naturally, in this society of super humans, quirks are strictly regulated, and the requirements for their lawful use enforced. Now, this lesson will serve as a fresh start! Lets get to studying about how to wield our quirks for the sake of human life! That is all! You have my gratitude for listening so intently and patiently!’ 13 finished their speech with a bow and was met with a round of applause from the students, all empowered by the words.

‘All right, first things first…’ Aizawa began, seeming to be disturbed by something in the centre court, Ichirou couldn’t see very well, but there seemed to be a swirling black mass- by the looks of things it wasn’t part of the training course. ‘Huddle together and don’t move!’ He shouted back as figures began to emerge from the darkness, ‘13! Protect the students!’

‘Is this like that training pattern at the entrance exam? Kiri said as Ichirou backed into him,

‘I really don’t think so- sensei looks nervous.’ Ichirou turned to the boy, speaking quietly as to not alarm the others.

‘Don’t move!’ Aizawa shouted back to the huddled children as he fixed his goggles, ‘Those are villains!!’ Ichirou’s suspicions had been right, she stepped back in realisation that these were the people the pro hero’s battled- and they were coming for her class.

‘Rou, can you hear what’s going on?’ Kirishima asked as he wrapped a protective arm around the girl who nodded in return, training her focus on the centre of the chaos.

‘According to the teachers curriculum we procured yesterday, Mr All Might was supposed to be here…’ Ichirou’s ears twitched at the unexpected voice coming from inside the black hole,

‘They wanted All Might,’ She relayed, ‘and I’m fairly certain that the black mass is actually a person.’ Kirishima and some of those around her seemed almost relieved that they weren’t the target,

‘You can’t tell me All Might… the symbol of peace… isn’t here…’ a dry rasping voice consumed Ichirou’s sensitive ears, it was a voice she was certain would haunt her forever, ‘I wonder if he’ll show up if we kill the kids?’

Ichirou tensed- they needed to get out.

a/n : its getting spicy y’all ft. Bakugou’s tiddies :)

taglist : @jazzylove

#bnha #bakugou katsuki #bakugou #mha #bakugou x oc #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo #boku no hero academia #mha bakugou #my hero academia

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