#really just a fucked up year. ducked up like 6 years running but whatever

[icterid-rubus]

😕

#scheduled my cat to be put down this Friday #don’t wanna make a post about it but I wanna talk about it #asked my mom to come with to drive me and do the talking. dad asked to come too #except he doesn’t do earnest emotions well and says really stupid and insensitive shit when people are emoting #and I will be sobbing through all this. I already am #on a zoom call with family so they can say goodbye to Chloe and he’s going on about how bad she is sees I’m trying not to cry and says #gee! I don’t think she’ll make it through this! hohoho! #I don’t want anyone to be there with me at all but I know I just won’t be able to talk to the vet and pay #really just a fucked up year. ducked up like 6 years running but whatever #really tired but I can’t sleep. don’t want to talk to people but isolated #I want Chloe’s suffering to be over but I don’t want to let her go. #meanwhile I have bumble person on discord talking to me and it feels like such a slog. I want to ghost. I’m just tired in them and having #to keep up this like essays long reply chain about the minutia of our lives that doesn’t change ever #but that also feels mean because they haven’t been pushy and have been really considerate even when they asked to meet again and I said to #hold off because of my cat and it’s been like two weeks #I haven’t been in instagram because I don’t want fish store person to ask me out #trying to get stuff done for friends baby but realized in all this mess I forgot to block anything. feel like such a failure at everything #making baby presents. keeping my cat alive. making connections #I just don’t want to be perceived at all. I feel like such a non entity #or rather I feel like I should be a non entity. a picture on the wall of a disused room. #I’m so tired.

[42donotpanic]

FIC WRITING REVIEW 2023

Thank you @loki-is-my-kink-awakening for coming up with this!

Rules: Feel free to show whatever stats you have. Only want to show Ao3 stats? Rock on. Want to include some quantitative info instead of stats? Please do this. Want to change how yours is presented? Absolutely do that. Would rather eat glass than do this? Please don’t eat glass but don’t feel like you have to do this either.

(I just copied @voiceoffenrisulfr who copied @foxywrites thank you both for tagging me <3)

Before we start I want to note that I hope to post 6 more fics this year and make it to 100 posted works before 2024 ^^

Words and Fics

335,338 words published in 2023

70 fics worked on

62 completed fics

most productive month: July with 74,045 words

monthly words average: 27,945 words

Top 5 Pairings

Clint Barton/Matt Murdock [16]

James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton [13]

Matt Murdock/Franklin "Foggy" Nelson [6]

Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier [6]

James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark [6]

Top 5 by Comments

Purple and Red; all the same to me (AUgust Writing Challenge 2023) - 78

The quiet life - 17

Building a Relationship - 14

Safe Place - 13

3 Times Matt's date didn't take his blindness well (+1 where it wasn't the biggest surprise that night) - 6

Top 5 by Kudos

3 Times Matt's date didn't take his blindness well (+1 where it wasn't the biggest surprise that night) - 255

Couch already taken - 208

The Reporter and The Lawyer - The Devil and The Protector - 146

Daredevil: The Man with Trauma - 131

Fuck Ninjas - 122

Top 5 by Hits

The Reporter and The Lawyer - The Devil and The Protector - 2,251

3 Times Matt's date didn't take his blindness well (+1 where it wasn't the biggest surprise that night) - 1,725

Purple and Red; all the same to me (AUgust Writing Challenge 2023) - 1,724

Coming Untouched - 1,722

Building a Relationship - 1,529

Fandom Events in 2023

For this part, I'm only adding in Bingos that I was able to get a bingo/blackout for If you want to know more feel free to check out my masterlists in my pinned post <3

Bingos

[5/9] Any Fandom LGBTQ Bingo - Bingo

[5/5] July Break Flash Bingo - Black out

[9/9] July Break Mini Bingo - Black out

[25/25] July Break Bingo - Black out

[15/25] Marvel Rare Pair Bingo Round 1/2 - Bingo

[6/25] Masturbation Midsummer Bingo - DNF

[13/25] WinterIron Bingo - Bingo

[9/9] Writers Pride Month Bingo - Black out

Writing Challenge's

[30/30] Slash Mulitverse Daily Pride Prompts

[31/31] AU-gust Writing Challenge 2023

[5/31] Flufftober 2023

Upcoming Plans

Fic's I'm hoping to continue/complete next year:

[Clint/Bucky] Soul Marks and Metal Arms

[Clint/Natasha] To see the Bruises

[Matt/Foggy] Learning to Live again

[Clint/Bucky] Now I wear my scars just like Tattoos

[Clint/Rhodey] Bring them back (to get you back)

[Clint & Matt] Who even am I?!

[Clint/Matt] Hawkdevil AU

[Clint/Bucky] Domestic WinterHawk AU

[Clint/Matt] Building a Relationship

Writing Reflection

After I got back into writing fic this year it was something I really enjoyed all throughout this year. I discovered a bunch of fun challenges and servers, met many lovely people (sadly all online) and learned a lot. I have hyperfocused a lot, especially in the summer and I collected a boatload of prompts I would like to fill in the coming year.

I have a lot of fics already planned for the next year. There will be a lot of feels, fluff and angst/whump alike and I hope I can keep the run I had this year going.

A big thank you to everyone who supported me along the way, be it with ducking/spaghettiing fic ideas, sprinting with me, participating in challenges, commenting, sharing or even just reading and liking my fics. You folks mean the world to me and I love every single one of you. Take care and remember, as long as you do what you love you get a good grade in fandom <3

Tagging: @stripedscribe @ravenmold @endlesstwanted and everyone who wants to participate (totally not a cop-out because I lost track of my tumblr, no)

#writing challenge #2023 recap #2023 in review #fanfic #alternate universe #writing #writers of ao3 #tumblr tag game #writers on tumblr #is it obvious that I don't know how to tag? #2023 #masterlist #mcu #marvel #clint barton #matt murdock #bucky barnes #tony stark #hawkeye #daredevil #charles xavier #erik lehnsherr

[pesterloglog]

Autoresponder, Jane Crocker

Act 6, page 4961

TT: Hmm.

GG: Welp, let me have it!

TT: Have what?

GG: A hard time for botching up the pooch!

GG: I think I just locked the door with that muttonheaded stunt. And now that mirrored obelisk is good as gone.

TT: I wasn't going to say nothin'.

TT: Hell, I was asleep at the wheel too while you were busy fucking up, and I have an IQ of, hold on, robo-calculating...

TT: Robo-calculating...

TT: Robo-calculating...

TT: Robo-calculating...

GG: Oh brother.

TT: Robo-calculating...

TT: About 500 billion.

GG: That is really, really robo-smart.

TT: Don't get human-fresh with me, Crocker. I'm about to bring all five hundo-billy points of my stringent cyborg IQ to bear on your dumb problem. Check it out.

TT: I took note of the captcha code to the thing, and recorded a digital flashsnap of its appearance through my photographic silicone memory canals.

TT: Which is to say I looked at eight alphanumeric digits a couple minutes ago, and remembered them.

GG: Ok?

TT: So give the bunny the wallet. I'll have him run back to the house and make you a new obelisk with the same grist you just collected from it.

TT: He can stash it in the wallet and run it back to you, and then you can open the door. You shouldn't be waiting around too long, cause he's real spry.

TT: Which is exactly why you should wait here. You'll just slow him down.

GG: Alright, I think I can do that.

GG: What should I do in the meantime?

TT: Let me think about that.

TT: Robo-calculating...

GG: Oh stop it!

TT: K.

GG: None of our friends will answer me. What could they be up to?

GG: You must at least know what Dirk is doing.

TT: He's slicing up some drones.

GG: Some what?

TT: Big red robots. He'll be busy for a while.

TT: Roxy I'm not sure about, but there is a pretty high probability as governed by the immutable laws of mathematics that she is preoccupied similarly.

GG: She's fighting robots too, you mean?

TT: I don't know. Maybe.

TT: Dealing with them, in some way, perhaps.

TT: If so, it wouldn't be a coincidence.

GG: Why?

TT: I think the Condesce is attempting to force the issue now.

GG: What? What issue!

TT: It's likely that it's a coordinated assault. Sending drones both to here and Roxy's place.

TT: She's probably trying to get everyone else to stop dicking around and join the game already.

GG: Are you sure she's not just trying to kill them?

GG: It wouldn't be her first assassination attempt.

TT: Yeah, but come on. Dirk has been a sitting duck here for years. Roxy too.

TT: She could have wiped them out any time with a swarm much bigger than this one. Or just nuked them.

TT: Her "assassination attempt" on you was pretty weak too.

GG: But it nearly worked!

GG: I would be dead right now if not for the whims of GCat.

TT: Right.

TT: Like I trust the motives of that fucking thing.

GG: So, you're saying she's only pretending to hunt us?

TT: I believe she probably would genuinely like to kill us. She is a psycho after all.

TT: But it's also obvious to me she needs us to begin playing this game, for whatever fucked up purpose she has.

TT: She might even need us to win it too, for all I know.

TT: Her antagonism is all part of the dance.

GG: Then you're saying Dirk and Roxy aren't really in danger from the robots?

TT: Oh, I wouldn't say that. They're still pretty deadly and they shoot missiles and stuff.

GG: Augh! I just want to talk to my friends and see if they're ok.

GG: What about Jake?

TT: No idea what's going on with him right now.

TT: I'm sure when the time is right, the witch will keep pushing him along to join the game as well.

GG: Then I guess I'll just sit here and worry about everyone quietly until Seb gets back.

TT: What about your troll friend?

GG: What?

TT: The alien whose name you don't know.

TT: You could talk to her.

GG: Oh yeah!

GG: I forgot about her.

GG: But I suppose that's because she's always the one to contact me. I never get a response when I message her.

TT: Well, you could give her a try. Maybe things are different now.

TT: I could hack into her system to get her attention, if you think that would help.

GG: You can do that??

TT: Nah, just messin' with you.

TT: Later.

timaeusTestified [TT] ceased pestering gutsyGumshoe [GG]

#homestuck #autoresponder #jane crocker #homestuck act 6 #page 4961 #homestuck act 6 act 3

[shurisneakers]

harmless (vii)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, existential crisis, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, lil bit of angst, clint barton being a lil shit

Word count: 3.4k

A/N: hey shoutout to @ugherik for suggesting a spin on the “A PLATYPUS!??!“ [perry puts his hat on] “PERRY THE PLATYPUS!???” thing. i used it in here, it’s a really small part and probably missable but i tried!! also i like the next chapter better than this one, i just wanted to put this here so it doesn’t seem abrupt <3333

here’s

my ko-fi

if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Series Masterlist

Bucky can’t stop staring at the mirror.

He wishes it was for narcissistic purposes. He had enough reason for it to be. His age may be a hundred but he had the youthful exuberance of a very drained sixty year old.

But no, it wasn’t because of the steel cut jawline or thousand gigawatt smile.

After last week’s mini-spiral, he does what almost half the videos on TikTok warn him not to do.  

He got a haircut.

Everyone’s reaction stopped him from following it up with an ear piercing, but he can’t confidently say he didn’t at least consider it once. Maybe a neck tattoo. 

He pulls at a lock of hair. It’s not even longer than his finger.

What did he do-

“It’s just a haircut, man,” he says to no one in particular, almost like he’s trying to reassure himself.

He runs his hands through his hair. It takes lesser time than he was used to.

Steve had told him he looked good. But then again, Steve wore a fugly costume 90% of the time, what did he know?

Clint acknowledged it and didn’t outright call him ugly, which he supposed was a compliment. Wanda simply smiled at him.

“FRIDAY?” he reaches out.

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?” comes the automated reply.

“How are you?” It took him some getting used to her, given that she was constantly listening to everything, and in general seemed to go against the universal idea of privacy. 

But his therapist told him he needed to form friendships. 

She didn’t mention it had to be human ones.

“As good as ever. Is there anything I can help you with?”

He wants to ask her what she thinks of his hair until he realises fashion advice from a faceless AI is a new low for him. Maybe ‘Do you think I should crawl into a pit and die?’ would be more appropriate. 

“Never mind,” he dismisses instead. “Any messages for today?”

“A reminder to buy a harder bed because you can’t keep sleeping on the floor.” Ah, that was on Sam’s recommendation three months ago, but he wasn’t going to stop any time soon. “And a text from a contact named Nuisance saying to meet them at the attached location in thirty minutes.”

“Where is the location?”

“The local sports centre.”

“Isn’t that closed today?” 

If he had to go out in public looking like this, maybe he could wear a cap and sunglasses and no one would recognise him. Unfortunately, as he was reminded several times before by anyone with an iota of common sense, it was a stupid disguise. 

Beanie it was, then. Bare minimum. 

“It is, yes.” Fewer citizens to worry about.

“Okay.” He hesitates in front of the mirror again, adjusting the hat on his head. “Thank you, FRIDAY.”

“You’re welcome, Sergeant.”

He stares at the little tuft of hair at the front that refused to stay down no matter how much he shoved it back.

“Come on, man,” he exhales in slight despair. “Whatever.”

____

The lock of the door leading to the pool is easy enough to pick. He can see how you got in without a hitch even though it was closed. 

The deck around the pool was absolutely drenched in water. No one was using it, there was no reason for water to splash out unless it was deliberately kept like this.

He catches sight of you easily, being that you’re the only two people there. You were standing at the end of the hall, head ducked as you scrolled through your phone.

The door closes behind him with a soft thud.

You don’t look up from your mobile when you start talking, “What do you think 6 year olds like?”

Because James Barnes, carbon dated to 1917 and therefore certified young person, would definitely know the answer to this question.

“I don’t know. Lego?”

“Just how much money do you think a teacher makes-”

You stopped mid-sentence, finally lifting your head to catch his eye. He stares back at you, steps faltering when you don’t move.

"Who are you?" you squinted.

What

"It's me," Bucky says, tugging off the dumb beanie and using it to gesture vaguely towards himself. Fuck, he shouldn’t have worn it, it was ridiculous anyway-

"You sound like him..." You narrow your eyes. “You don't look like him.”

Great

He rolls his eyes before putting on a mock scowl. Can't have Bucky Barnes without a sense of eternal disgruntlement.

"Oh hey, that is you." You grin. "You got a haircut."

“I did.” He suddenly feels the awkwardness increase. His fingers fidget with the beanie.

“Nice.” You nod in acknowledgement.

He wants to hit himself at the words that just spill out before he could think about it. “You hate it.”

“I never said that,” you snort. “And since when does my opinion matter?”

“It doesn’t.” But now he wants to know what you think since he didn’t trust anyone else to tell him honestly.

“Must cut down on time in the shower, huh?”

It did.

He shrugs. He shoves the beanie into his back pocket.

“Was it a crisis haircut?” How did you kno- “Are you going to get bangs next time?”

“Shut up,” he says lamely, a dull burn in his cheeks. 

“I know a place where you can get hair dye for cheap. Not technically FDA approved, but I think purple streaks are a good place to start-”

“What are we doing here?” he interrupts, sighing.

“Skinny dipping. Take off your shirt, Barnes.” 

“Funny,” he says dryly, eyeing your shoes when you straighten up.

Ice skates.

“Fine, pants then.” You don’t make any effort to move from your end so he does, walking closer to you. 

“What are those for?” He doesn’t hide the annoyance from his voice when he points at your feet.

“Oh, these?” You look down at them. “Yeah, I’m going to freeze the pool.”

That seems... mild compared to the shit show you wanted to do last time.

“For?” He halts where he is. 

“’M gonna take my friends ice skating.”

“Is that all?” He wants to make a comment about the fact that you have friends but bites it back.

“Today is just a trial run. Tomorrow I’m gonna go freeze the East River.” There it is.

“The East River is not your personal ice skating rink.”

“Not yet it isn’t.” You lift up a middle finger.

It was too early for you to flip him off, even by your standards.

He raises an eyebrow.

Your face scrunches in confusion. You follow his gaze to your finger. “Oh yeah, no, that’s a freeze ring.”

Only then he notices a ring around the finger. From where he was standing he could make out the blue stone that adorned it.

“Joy.” He rolls up the sleeves of his black bomber jacket. “Let’s get this done with, then.”

“No no, wait.” You hold up your hand and he complies, having nothing to lose anyway. You pull out your phone and press a few buttons before shoving it back into your bag and tossing it aside.

The soft sounds of a piano start playing from a boombox near the corner of the room. A child starts singing following a series of knocks.

His eyebrows furrow. “What the fuck is this?”

“The Frozen soundtrack.” You beam at him. “I thought it was fitting.”

He doesn’t know what that is and at this point, he’s too afraid to ask. He can vaguely make out the lyrics being about a snowman but he isn’t too concerned.

He takes one step forward. You immediately point your fist at the ground in front of him, forcing him to jump back when a blast hits right in front of his shoes. Suddenly he gets why the floor is covered in water.

It sounds like a series of cracks as the water starts freezing over, a layer of ice now separating him and you.  

"You ready?” The mischief was woven in your voice as the blasts continued throughout the deck, effectively turning the entire floor into ice.

Bucky takes a step tentatively forward. Not bad. He takes another. Okay.

The third one is when shit starts to hit the fan. His hands shoot out to hold onto his balance when his footing slips from beneath him.

His Nike sneakers aren’t used to snow. They’re used to well manicured lawns and pavement trips to Starbucks and marble floors of the compound. Not swimming pool decks covered in ice.

He can hear you singing in the distance and every time he looks up you’re a little further away, making sure every inch of space is frozen.

It takes him a while to get over the initial fear of breaking his skull and just move forward swiftly with short steps. A goddamn penguin is what he looked like.

“There you go, you’re getting it,” you chirp as you whiz past him. He reaches out to grab at you, only to miss by an inch. He staggers, arms flapping wildly to regain his stability.

He hears crackling beside him. He gets a second or two to watch ice crystals spread through the water before turning it completely solid. You step onto the now frozen pool, testing your weight with one leg before cautiously getting on.

A triumphant smile emerges on your face. “Awesome.”

He manages to press himself against the wall as a form of support. 

There is no point to this whole thing. He knows this. It’s been well over 6 weeks and there is genuinely no point to this.

He realises it again when he moves from side to side, body erupting into a waddle. 

Why is he doing this. He doesn’t get paid extra. He doesn’t get any kind of compensation. All he gets is more wisecracking geniuses, embarrassment and the mortifying ordeal of getting caught imitating a penguin.

The song changes to a woman singing about doing something for the first time, forcing him to pay attention to it. He hears something about ball room and balls and tunes right back out.

Bucky manages to find his way to the actual pool since that’s where you’re twirling around, opting to land on his mental arm in case things go wrong. He takes a sliding step forward, followed by another. Maybe he can do this. 

“If a 200 pound super soldier can stand on this, I suppose it’s strong enough,” you muse, watching him slip and slide as he tries to invent makeshift ice skating.

Unfortunately, his method doesn’t have any brakes, so while he’s too busy trying to move forward, there’s no way to actually stop. He finds this out very soon when he almost launches himself off the edge of the pool.

Something yanks him backwards and back onto the ice.  

“Honestly, this is utterly useless since you can’t really do anything but it’s the most fun I’ve had all week,” you admit when he goes sliding towards the middle, arms flailing.

“You had to pick fuckin’ ice of all things.” He thinks that maybe he’s getting a hang of this. He can definitely move faster than what he was doing like, 10 minutes ago. It’s not like you were going anywhere, anyway. 

“I like to keep things spicy.”

He stays where he is to glare at you. You mouth the words to the song, watching his every move whenever it interested you. 

Okay, change of plan; a temporary distraction till he figures out how to actually get the ring from you. He settles on skating towards the edge of the rink slowly, taking a step off, slipping almost immediately when his foot comes in contact with the deck. 

“Where are you going?” you yell over the music initially but immediately break into song when it ends in a crescendo.

He takes a knee, lifting his metal arm up before driving it into the ground. It shatters magnificently, leaving small shards of ice at his disposal. 

He picks up one of them, waiting for you to complete your dumb twirl. He takes aim, and-

“Ouch, what the fuck?” You stop your off key singing to rub your shoulder where the ice hit you.

He wordlessly picks up another piece to throw at you, hitting you squarely in the leg.

“Stop that!”

He may not be able to move as fast but he can definitely throw. 

“Give me the ring,” he commands, stretching his arm behind his back before releasing another piece to hit your forearm. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” There’s nowhere you can skate to avoid his stupidly good marksmanship. 

“You gotta do what you gotta do.” He shrugs, breaking another patch of ice to replenish his ammo. “Hand over the ring.”

“Over my dead body,” you shriek when a particularly big piece lands next to your feet. You knew he missed that shot on purpose.

“I feel like I’m finally acting my age,” he says casually, finding your darting about in order to avoid him more fun than he initially thought. “Can’t throw pebbles at meddling kids so this is the next best option. Thanks.” 

“If you acted your age you’d be in a casket, Barnes,” you hissed, finding that skating in zig zags helped your cause, but not by much. “I’d be- you bitch- I’d be more than happy to help you get there.”

You raise your arm, ready to send another blast to freeze the water that was starting to melt around him, hopefully, keep him where he was if it froze around him. 

He flinches. You notice immediately, hand dropping slightly when you realise what it looked like.

“I’m not gonna freeze you,” you say, softer than you intended. From what you knew, he had enough and more experience with that and you weren’t going to contribute to it. 

He swallows thickly, giving himself a little shake of his head as if to jolt him out of his train of thought. 

Another piece of ice hits you in the leg. You let out a string of curses at him.

“The more ice you make, the more I have to throw at you, Y/N.” He waits for you to regain your balance when you nearly take a stumble. 

“Shut up, you’re so immature.”

“Remind me whose plan this was again?” No point waiting for you to regain your balance when you fall over only a few seconds later. 

He gathers a few shards in his beanie, tucking it into his belt like a little makeshift rucksack just in case before venturing out on the main rink again. 

It’s more difficult for you to stand without railings to guide you, giving him enough and more time to make his way towards you, staggering and skidding. 

Both of you looked ridiculous. 

“Stay away, fiend.” 

“Ring first.” He holds his hand out in front of you. He even considered pulling you up if you just made things easier.

Next thing he knows he’s on his ass on the ice beside you. 

“I hate you,” he groans, watching as you inch away from him on your knees.

He doesn’t really have any other options so he shoves aside the humiliation and gets on his knees, using his arms to drag him along the ice.

“For the love of Christ, none of us are winning here. Just give me the ring.”

The bitch from the soundtrack sings about letting it go but he won’t. 

“Never,” you shout, sliding away from him as fast as possible. 

You make use of the fact that the top layer of ice is starting to melt, using the ring to freeze it again. His knees and fingers get stuck as the water freezes over but he has super strength. It barely takes him a second to free himself. 

“Great,” he huffs, just settling down on the ice, ignoring the sting of cold that was spreading through his limbs. Running after you wasn’t going to work; he needed a way to get the ring. 

“You won last time, I’m not letting you win again.”

“Are we seriously keeping score?” He watches as you scramble towards the edge.

“No one likes a loser, Bucky.” You use the pool stair railings to pull yourself up.

“Explain why you have friends then.” He can’t help himself this time. 

“Hardy har har.” You roll your eyes. 

He doesn’t make an effort to move. Instead, when you take a step back into the rink, he raises his arm and pummels it into the ice, just to annoy you. 

The ground damn near shakes, pushing you dangerously towards losing your balance again. 

“Are you crazy?” Your arm shoots out in front of you to keep you from falling headfirst. 

“No.” He does it again. This time there’s a crack in the ice. “I’m just very tired.”

“If the ice breaks we’re both gonna be underwater, you moron!”

“Fine by me.” He shrugs. “Freeze it again. I’ll just find different ways to ruin it for you.”

You glare at him. He raises his arm above his head again.

“Fine! Fine, stop.” You eye him as he lowers his arm. 

He reaches for his stash of ice pieces from earlier, throwing one at your shoulder again.

“Boy, I swear if you don’t stop doing that-” you duck when another one comes at you. You had no idea he could be this annoying. 

It suddenly hits him, like a lightbulb going off in his brain. He wipes his hands off on his jacket, getting on all fours before slowly managing to pick himself up again. 

He looks at you, tilting his head slightly like he was studying you.

“What?” you ask suspiciously, eyeing as he starts inching closer towards you. “What are you thinking?”

It’s like watching a newborn deer stumble its way through the world, albeit more gracefully, until he starts picking up speed. The motherfucker was going to mow you down.

The skates are useful but not so much when an extremely determined bumbling oaf is barrelling towards you, his speed beginning to match yours even without equipment. 

You don’t know why you’re running, you don’t know why he’s chasing after you but when you see the end of the pool you take a sharp left only to have him knock right into you, sending you both sprawling.

You land half on top of him, breaking your fall but it doesn’t stop the very loud groan that escapes your mouth. He’s already in the process of sitting up straight, giving you less time to analyse what just happened.

“What the fuck was that for?” you speak through gritted teeth. “Fuckin’ acting like the both of us have free healthcare.”

“You refused to give up.”

“So your plan was to tackle me like a quarterback?” You threw your hands up.  

“One part of it.” He drags himself to the edge, away from you. 

“There's more to your monkey brained plan?” He doesn’t look at you. The ice around the pool has more or less melted, letting him gain proper footing on the floor before he stands up. 

“Oh, yeah.” He turns to you. “The other’s a trick I stole from Stark.”

Bucky holds up the ring. Your jaw slightly drops, eyes searching your finger for the now missing piece of tech. 

“Suppose that’s two points for me?” 

You’re impressed. You also want to stab him. So you do the next best thing.

“When I imagined you holding a ring in front of me, the circumstances were very different,” you comment.

“Bye, Y/N.” He spins on his heel, not even giving you a second’s worth of reaction. You found it amusing.

He heads towards the door, clothes all wet. He empties out melted ice water from his beanie before stuffing it into his pocket. Just when he’s about to leave, you remember something. 

Do you mean it genuinely or just because it has an effect on him? 

“Just for the record, Barnes, about your hair-” you call out, earning his attention from over his shoulder. “I think you look really good either way.”

The world may never know. 

You swear you can see the corners of his lips quirk upwards before he turns around again. 

He slips on a block of ice, cursing and clenching on to the door to keep him upright, quickly yanking it open and leaving before he has a chance to embarrass himself further.

Smooth.

Next part

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #harmless fic #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes #bucky

[wh6res]

chase — renhyuck

“needy kitty. i can’t wait for purge night.”

tw bullying, violence, swearing, yandere themes, possessive themes, blood, weapons (a gun, a grenade), implied noncon, implied kidnapping, mentions of stalking

disc i dont condone this behavior

wc 5k

‏‏‎ ‎

29 hours before the annual purge

“hold her down—i said hold her down, idiot!”

putting everything into account, they saw you more like a glorified chew toy than an actual person. 

they ruined your life simultaneously and it's ironic, that despite being sworn rivals, it seems you were their neutral ground—after one has had their own fun, you’re passed on to the other person so they can deliver that final, shattering blow that weakens your resolve. 

it was meant to be that way because it had always been that way. you’re the unlucky loser that ignited the worse sides of both lee haechan and huang renjun. 

they’re like oil and water; they don’t mix but with you, they found a compromise. stealing your lunch money, trashing your homework, quickies in between lectures. all of these should’ve been enough to give them a good power trip. but they’ve developed a hunger so severe that these past instances are but mere crumbs that hardly satisfy their cravings. 

it was beyond exhausting, being caught in between two headstrong people that were unwilling to back down at any cost. their aggression and anger towards each other directly being channeled onto you as they shove and swing you around like some ragdoll. 

you weren’t a bunch of kids, you knew that. you don’t cry and sob and say that it’s unfair, you hold your chin high and walk up to the guidance counselor’s office to report them for bullying. but you never should’ve underestimated the power of money and their respective families’ broad network of connections. 

without a doubt, the empty promises for justice is what broke your heart the most. it breaks with every bruise, every tight grip, and every nasty name the people willingly turned a blind eye to. 

it’s sad but it was a reality you taught yourself to get used to—the meek mouse learning how to evade the cats hot on her trail. 

but you weren’t as lucky today. 

“i am holding her down.”

a pair of lips comes in contact with your neck. its feathery and light at first until its biting down to mark you with his teeth. not too strong to draw blood, but enough to dent the surface of the skin. 

haechan has an oral fixation. biting his lips. his nails. whenever you see him, he always has a lollipop on his mouth and if he doesn’t, he’s painting hickeys across your skin. you hated his oral fixation, especially when makeup and clothes proved useless to hide the marks he gives you. 

“why run?” renjun asks you, slipping his fingers underneath your skirt as he kneels. “you know you have nowhere to hide in the campus.”

haechan snorts. “or anywhere else.”

it’s always the same thing. you go to school. you sit in your first period for thirty minutes until one of them shows up. then the other boy probably felt a gut instinct that he’s missing out on the fun. last time, it was an empty classroom in the abandoned left wing. 

they like taking you there all the time, it was always dark, the blinds pulled and shut tight. not to mention it was incredibly dusty. but both male knew you’re afraid of the dark, exactly why it’s their favorite spot. but empty classrooms and supply closets are close seconds, too. 

“you’re so pathetic. useless—only know how to whine like a fucking pornstar,” he quickly comments, feeling you arch against him when renjun’s tongue comes in contact with the pearl between your legs. “my cumdump.”

you feel a sharp exhale against your lower lips. you shudder. renjun clicks his tongue in annoyance. “can you shut up? you’re making my dick soft with all that talking.”

but haechan had ignored him completely, blissfully ignorant of the petite boy’s frustrations as he angles your head up to crash his lips onto yours. when he slightly pulls away, still playfully nibbling your bottom lip, what he said next made your blood run cold. 

“needy kitty. i can’t wait for purge night.”‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

6 hours before the annual purge

the price to pay for protection started rising again this year and you, much like your neighbors, are in a sense of turmoil. jamming the doors with cabinets and nailing your windows with wood is hardly enough to satisfy the gnawing feeling in your stomach. much less when you didn’t even have a weapon to wield other than a wooden bat and a cheap taser you bought on sale. 

“its not like anyone will be coming for you, right?” the little girl says, touching the randomest stuff in your apartment. her name was naeun and she never really liked pink and sparkles like most girls her age, maybe that’s why she took a liking to you. 

her mom works a 9 to 5 and her grandma stays with her on occasion. but the old lady loved to sleep, naeun said, so she gets the chance to slip out and come knocking on your door. you tried shooing her out of your apartment countless times but she’s stubborn. 

she reminds you of yourself. 

“well, i hope no one does.” you joked, putting on a turtleneck. 

naeun’s mom doesn't like you as much as it is, but if you yourself let naeun see the bruises on your skin? you’d hate yourself forever. “now, come on little missy, go back to your grandma. i need to head over to the bank to settle my protection fees.”

“but you just said no one is going to come for you anyway,” she whines stomping towards the door. “mom already settled ours yesterday becase grammy forced her to. mommy said it was just a waste of money because who’d bother to rob us anyway?”

a memory flashes in your head. two boys who’ve sandwiched you between them in the dark of a fucking supply closet at uni. wandering hands, labored whispers, curt giggles, one pair of lips trailing up your neck while the other up your inner thigh.

“needy kitty. i can’t wait for purge night.”

you needed that protection. that was no slip up because haechan never makes mistakes. if he wanted to make you feel like some animal on the run after catching a whiff of trouble then he sure is doing a good job. 

“hey! i think you just went someplace else there,” naeun says, nudging your side irritably to get your attention again. 

you try forcing out a chuckle but it doesn't work, still deeply peeved by a memory from last week replaying vividly in your mind. if they ever mean what they meant (which you know they do) then this is now more than just trying to get through the night—you have to survive, prepare, and pray neither of them finds you. 

“i think your grandma’s right in doing what she did, naeun. with humans, you’ll never know.”

and just like that naeun went silent, bid you goodbye, and disappeared behind the apartment door.

the bank was a quick walk from your apartment. you hardly broke much sweat and you even managed to stop by the grocery store to make some last-minute runs. the store’s nearly empty, deserted of any human being as the seconds slowly but surely ticked away. it was only when you walked past aisle seven did you pause, the hairs on your back standing as a slow chill crawled up your spine. 

you look over your shoulder. 

no one’s there. 

you swallow, quickly looking down your watch to check the time as you made your way to counter. 3 hours before the annual purge. you needed to get your ass moving. you just need to grab one more thing and you’ll best be on your way. 

you practically ran towards the dairy section and just as you spin around, strawberry ice cream pint in your hands, you jump as he appears before you in thin air and you drop whatever you’re holding. 

“such a skittish little kitten,” renjun clicks his tongue, bending down to retrieve the ice cream on the floor. “here you go.”

you couldn’t even stare at him in the eye. your hands shook but it wasn’t because of the cold desert. now you get it. it’s his eyes you felt on you earlier, ever intrusive and piercing as he watched you from afar. was he stalking you?

“i didn’t quite catch a thank you, kitty.”

how foolish of you to think he’ll let you duck away without at least speaking to him, hm?

“thank… thank you?”

renjun grins, satisfied with your stuttering as he raises a hand to ruffle your hair—he ignores how you flinched away from him—before walking away with one hand in his coat pocket, whistling an eerie tune that can haunt your nightmares way after purge night. 

“see you later, kitten.”

if it wasn’t the whistling that set you on edge or that clear promise of your doom—it’s the pack of zip ties and duct tape in his hands.‏‏‎ ‎

you were watching a rerun of your favorite morning reality tv when it cuts to the dreaded blue screen showing the flag of korea. 

this is not a test.

this is your emergency broadcast system announcing the commencement of the annual purge sanctioned by the south korean government. 

weapons of class 4 and lower have been authorized for use during the purge. all other weapons are restricted. 

commencing at the siren, any and all crime, including murder, will be legal for 12 continuous hours. 

police, fire, and emergency medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning until 7 am when the purge concludes. 

may god be with you all.

you’ll never get used to the blaring siren that echoes through the empty streets. you can feel the floor vibrating and it travels throughout your whole body as the dread starts sinking deep into your skin. 

you’ve already double checked all your windows and the front door. activated the security system provided by the bank. and you’ve also already charged your taser and have hammered down nails into your wooden bat. fine. if they wanted to scare and bully you into a panicked frenzy, it did its job but fuck no will you go down without a fight. 

you shut all the lights, the apartment basking in the moonlight glow brought by the translucent curtains as you make your way to your bedroom, nearest the emergency exit just in case they barge through your front door by force. 

at first, nothing happened. it was peaceful. tranquil. you can hear a pin drop with how quiet it was. both inside and outside. you were almost tempted to cover your mouth in case you were breathing too loud. 

it’s silent. until it wasn’t.

your phone rings. it’s there, vibrating on your desk and you make long strides until you’re face to face with a set of numbers on your screen. an unregistered contact. there’s a debate inside your head whether to answer it or not, fingers hovering between the red and green button… until it eventually lands on the green. 

you put it up to your ear, hands sweating as you wait with bated breath for the person on the other end to speak. 

“kitten?”

it’s renjun. you don’t answer. 

“i can hear you breathing, you know. i can’t wait to see you. we’ll have so much fun together. it’s sad that i have to share with that imbecile but better half of you than nothing of you, right?” he laughs and you feel a rush of anger surge through you. yet, you don’t bother to give him the satisfaction of a reply. 

“i can see you’re angry, little kitty. while it’s cute and hot… don’t be. turn that frown upside down for me, wouldn’t you?”

but the blinds are drawn he couldn’t have seen you—

“you’re never going to get me, you fucking bastard. i’m not scared of you,” you sure do hope he can’t hear the tremble in your voice. “whatever you plan on doing to me, you’ll fail.”

you walk back slowly, eyes darting everywhere to look for a camera they could’ve installed in your room. they have connections and the money to do it so you won’t put it past them. 

“oh, my stupid kitty. how can we fail when we already got a head start?” 

the floorboard behind you creaks and before you could turn around, someone slams your head against the desk. you hear a crack, whether it’s the screen of your laptop or your nose, you couldn’t tell. the person is agile and silent as he maneuvers you to the ground and seals your lips with duct tape. 

“after all,” haechan giggles. “you can’t lock out what’s already inside, kitten.”

your phone lands somewhere near your head. renjun has already dropped the call and the line goes silent. 

squirming, you glared at the person on top of you. is this how you’re gonna go? you can’t deny, even you yourself find this pathetic. the security alarms you bought, the nail-studded bat, your taser, everything was all for naught? just because you didn’t check under your bed to make sure no one was there?

how long was haechan waiting? when naeun was still here? when you went out to buy groceries? 

you thought it would be fear you’ll be feeling as you get caught but the emotion isn’t present at all. instead, it’s white hot anger that overrides your system and forces you to act without thinking—and it just fucking saved your life. 

haechan always saw you as a vulnerable, sad little human being who couldn’t do shit on her own. it’s easy to underestimate you and that’s his first mistake. 

the second is rather foolish—not tying your legs up first. it’s all too easy to slam your forehead against his before jerking your leg up to knee him in the balls. 

you can see the anger in his eyes clear as day as you made a run for it to the kitchen, having come up with another escape plan—because surely if you went down the emergency exit, haechan would’ve caught up easily with those long legs after he’s recovered from your assault. 

your nose was probably bleeding and your head is in the early stages of a full blown migraine, at least you were able to function enough to wobble your way towards the trash chute situated near the stove. you had cursed that chute the first day you moved in here (who would put a trash chute next to a fucking stove) but the day has come for you to thank the gods that you have that in your house. 

going for a swim in all your neighbors’ trash is disgusting and unplanned (plus, falling down maybe six floors to your doom) but you’ll choose that over lee haechan and huang renjun any day. 

“don’t you dare fucking think about it!”

you flashed him the middle finger to tick him off. a petty retaliation for all the bullshit he and renjun put you through but it felt good nonetheless. 

“catch me if you fuckers can.”

and you were falling down the trash chute.‏‏‎ ‎

okay, yeah—maybe you should’ve thought it through before hurling yourself six floors down only for some half-filled dumpster to catch you but at least you’re still alive, right? alive and free, mind you. but you don’t have time to celebrate. 

it smelled awful and you swear your knees and elbows are bruised but you scramble to climb out and run away as fast as you can. 

it was only haechan inside your apartment. no sign of renjun but he did see you somehow and you have no doubt it was a camera inside that room. you didn’t have much time to ponder for how long they were installed in your room. it’s the least of your worries at the moment.

you’re outside. 

during purge night.

even if you did manage to escape it felt more like a win than a lose, forced out of your own apartment in nothing but shorts and a shirt—heck, you don’t even have shoes on!—it felt like they won. again. 

if you’re not going to die in the hands of some other wacko, you’ll die of hypothermia. how nice. 

you didn’t know where you were running to, the only thing you knew was you need to get the hell out of this neighborhood as fast as you can. you didn’t want to run in alleyways and risk getting stabbed for fun. maybe the sewer system… oh, right. you don’t have your phone on you and it’ll probably be pitch black down there. 

you really, truly, genuinely didn’t want to run so out in the open but it was the best you can impulsively come up with. 

when you feel like you’ve put a reasonable distance between you and the apartment, you stop, hands resting flat on your knees as you crouch to catch a breath. just as quick the adrenaline appeared as fast as it had disappeared. you feel the weight and tension crushing your legs, not to mention you’re really starting to feel that headache settle after headbutting haechan. 

you almost collapse against the brick wall. 

the last person you ever thought you’ll see jumps out from the corner of the alleyway and you almost broke their nose. 

until you saw who it was. 

“NAEUN?”

their apartment got raided, some buffy sickos who they had the misfortune of breaking into their house to purge. luckily they got away, but after getting attacked on the streets, naeun got separated after she ran for her life just like you did. you can’t help but feel sorry for the little girl, who experienced the full effect of this godforsaken holiday. 

this is bad. you can’t leave her but it’s tough enough to have to fend for yourself. you’re not so sure whether you can protect another human being but you’ll have to try. 

“did your mom or grandma tell you anything? anything at all?” you ask, crouching to her eye level. “you said your mom knew the way… where? what do you mean?”

“mom said they’re providing refuge on the other side of town but it’s a 30-minute drive. walking would take longer.”

shit. you didn’t want to risk it. you don’t have a car and you’d rather die right here right now than walk another step out in the streets—

“who’s ‘they’?”

“i don’t… i don’t know. she didn’t say.”

you licked your chapped lips. you can’t trust what she’s saying, not when you didn’t even know these people. it’s too risky, not to mention you’re already running from not one, but two people.

naeun sits next to you against the bricked wall of the alley, looking down at her lap. “i’m scared,” she admits. you hear a tremble in her voice. “are mom and grammy de—”

“no,” you cut her off, pulling her tiny body against yours. when you feel her fists clutching your jacket, you swear to protect this girl with your life. “no, they’re not. i’m sure they’re heading there now to the refuge center just like we are.”

her head pokes out, looking up towards you. “we’re going? i thought you didn’t want to.”

you shake your head, wiping her tears. “well, it’s the one way for you to meet your mom and grammy, right?”‏‏‎ ‎

walking down the streets during purge night—man, this has got to be the most ballsy thing you’ve ever done after that one time you spat at renjun in the eye. you managed to find a litter of bodies way into thirty minutes of walking and you nearly sent naeun flying onto the asphalt with how hard you pushed her back. she couldn’t see this mess, you’d be damned to allow a nine-year-old walk right into psychological trauma. 

you pocket a gun—you didn’t have enough courage to fight with a knife. you wiped the blood off using your shirt before shoving them down onto the garter of your shorts. you didn’t bother to take their shoes, none of them would’ve fit you anyway and it’ll just slow you down. 

“hey, are you alright? is that blood—”

“it’s not mine, naeun. come on, let’s get moving.”

for two hours you walked towards this mysterious refuge center on the other side of town and both you and naeun managed to evade death three times. 

the first attack: a group of high schoolers with their uniforms on. there were three of them, about your height, and while you weren’t responsible for the blood on your shirt, you’re not so sure about their lot. they looked crazy, excited even, but sloppy in the way they flung their knives and bats around. their first purge, you assumed, so it was fairly easy to take them down. a bullet to the head worked like a charm. naeun didn’t say anything when you urged her out of her hiding place to flee the scene. three bullets left. 

the second attack: it was a surprise, one that got you stabbed in the shin of your right leg. it was a drunkard with a knife, you could smell him as you walked past by his slumped form in the sidewalk. he wasn’t moving, so you thought he was dead and it was poor judgement on your part. it’s pathetic getting injured this way, you thought, but at least it was you who faced the consequences and not naeun. two bullets left.

the third attack: two men but deadlier than the girls and the drunk. you didn’t get to reason out with either of them, not when they drove their cadillac at 140 miles per hour and nearly ran you over. a chill crept up your spine when you saw the bloody, naked women strapped down onto the hood. victims. you didn’t engage in any form of combat, it’s impossible, so you took naeun in your arms and ran straight to the back alleys. number of bullets remain the same.

three lucky strikes. 

three times you’ve cheated death. 

but time is up and your luck has run out. 

“beating up a girl? what a coward, if you ask me,” you say, spitting out a tooth after someone kneed you in the face. you were in no position to say such things when they’ve got you busted up and bloody, left eye swollen after one hard punch. 

naeun is nowhere to be seen. 

good. 

who knows what these assholes could’ve done to her. you told her to run so she better fucking run and make sure she lives through this nightmare. 

another kick flies to your ribs and you lie sprawled on the dirty pavement of an alleyway—what an uncool way to die but at least you’ll die with a clear conscience. 

you passed by city hall a few minutes ago. surely, the refuge center is not too far from there. naeun will make it safe. she’ll make it. 

“what’s that look on her face? is she dead?”

another one scoffs. “well… if they’re after her then she’s as good as dead.”

you blacked out. ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎

you hate the scent of disinfectant. it crawls up your nose and you hate how the stench is so strong you can taste it on your tongue. this isn’t heaven, not when you know you’re better off burning in hellfire.

unless you weren’t dead—your eyes shoot open, sitting up in haste as you clutch the thin blanket. 

rows upon rows of the same cot you were lying on greets you. people injured, some standing, some sitting. there were people treating them, too, but they were in normal clothes so this can’t be a hospital. in fact, it looked like you’re in some warehouse, stacks of metal crates sealing off all entrances. 

“it’s the refuge,” you whisper. 

“you’re awake!” before you could even turn around, a body launches itself onto you and nearly makes the cot collapse. judging by the small frame and the pitchy voice—

“naeun, be careful!” her mother hisses but the girl in between your arms couldn’t care less. if she’d been an adult, she’d be squeezing the life out of you. when she pulls you closer, your healing ribs made a strike of pain surge through you. 

you groan, bowing in the pain. distantly, you can hear the mother and daughter fighting and it was a banter you’ve never experienced with your own mom. it nearly made you tear up from the overwhelming wave of emotions you were feeling but all else disappears when a person tenderly grips your shoulder. 

“thank you for taking care of my granddaughter.” the old lady was smiling appreciatively as she stared at you. 

that was it. it could’ve been the happy ending to a gruesome and bloody storyline—it should’ve been, family of three reunites again and that was all thanks to you, right?

but even heroes have their own bad endings. 

you heard the ticking of the grenade only seconds before it detonates. the other refugees didn’t even have the time to take cover as some closest to the sealed doors were sent flying so far back they crashed into the row of crates behind you. 

you were severely injured, limping, ribs broken, and you only had one good eye to rely on—yet the first thing you thought of was protecting naeun. maybe the midget had a way of worming herself into your heart. but before you even push yourself off the cot, a figure emerges from the smoke. 

petite and harmless, pretty as the tips of his hair grazed porcelain cheekbones. renjun’s eyes are as cold and calculating as can be and it’s the only thing that terrifies you to no end. when he opens his mouth, anger is hidden well underneath that calm tone. 

“i’ll give you one minute to come here willingly.”

there’s no room for bargain, he needn’t when he knows you have absolutely nothing to offer him but yourself. he doesn’t finish his sentence but he trusts you’re smart enough to figure out the silent threat—come, or he’ll turn this place into a fucking bloodbath. 

cornered and weak, defenseless. weird how they have a fixation for calling you ‘kitty’ when they’re the cats in this chase. 

“naeun,” you whisper, trying to crane your neck to look for her in the filth of rocks and debris. please don’t be hurt.

you freeze when you feel a barrel pointing at your head. it was only there for seconds, haechan probably doesn’t have the guts to hurt you in any way permanently (unless it’s inflicted with his own hands and not through some other medium). 

“ah, look. now we have matching black eyes,” he giggles like a madman, craning your neck up and the leather in his globes brings discomfort to your skin. 

you see the way the other refugees looked at you—scum, dirt on their feet that brought about trouble in their lives. they were already badly hurt as it is and now, this happened? you don’t blame them. 

not one man tried to stand up for you as haechan hauls you up and throws you down on renjun’s feet. your ribs were screaming and you’re cold and so, so afraid. with shaky fingers, you gestured towards the crowd. “just... please, don’t hurt them. they don’t have anything to do with this.”

renjun coos. such a cruel smirk for a pretty face. “aw, such an angel my darling is. always thinking of others instead of her own safety. funny because i don’t think you’ve ever done such a thing for me and haechan, though. i wonder why...”

the latter digs his heel in your injured legs and you scream as black starts to surround the corners of your vision. you tried to crane your neck back, pleading eyes wanting to look at the assaulter but renjun’s calloused hand is gripping your chin too tight.

“should we make a bargain, kitten?”

you stare deep into renjun’s eyes. he knows you don’t have anything left, he can see it in your glassy eyes, too wide and vulnerable. he’s doing this all for show, trying to make you even more desperate and self-aware of your eventual demise.

and you thought haechan was the only cunning one.

“what… what bargain?"

renjun practically gleams in pride. “i’ll let everyone walk free—even your precious little naeun—that’s her name, right? the little girl you’ve been protecting the whole night?—we’ll let her and everyone in this building walk away unharmed. that’s my bargain. you know how those work, right? now, you need to give me something i want.”

forcing you to offer yourself up to them.

what a brutal way to crush your pride.

choice wasn’t an option. if you don’t oblige and choose to run away on your own, they’ll kill them and still hunt you down. you gotta say, it was a tempting bargain that appealed to the sense of heroics in your heart. naturally, you have to choose where there is less blood shed. and as renjun lets go of your chin and lets you look over your shoulder to meet little naeun’s eyes, how she sobbed against her mother’s arms and shook her head and screamed…

“hurry, kitten. i don’t like to be kept waiting.”

you know what needs to be done.

“me. i’ll give you… me.”‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎

they stood playing a game of pool in the dead of night. it’s peaceful inside the estate while the city beyond rampaged and burned. they achieved their goal, had finally seen an end to a plan that had been set in motion for years. they’ve succeeded and the broken woman lying on the bed meters from the pool table is proof of their victory. 

“don’t you just love it when an elaborate plan works like clockwork, injun?” he asks, voice like trickling honey as he hits number 9 with the cue ball. 

the other, more petite male, rolls his eyes but doesn’t disagree. “oh, please, people like us always triumph, donghyuck. it’s nothing new. although i am surprised that little girl and her so-called “family” played along so well. almost had me fooled.”

“i agree. it's such a shame they had to go.”

‎

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#nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #renhyuck scenarios #renhyuck imagines #haechan imagines #renjun imagines #yandere haechan #yandere renjun #purge au #purge au nct dream #tw bullying #tw violence #tw purge au

[mypoisonedvine]

Love, Theoretically | Sebastian Stan x reader (Chapter 9)

(chapter 1) (chapter 2) (chapter 3) (chapter 4) (chapter 5) (chapter 6) (chapter 7) (chapter 8)

series summary: having lost your husband, sister, and best friend all to the same extramarital affair, you ran away to a secluded villa in the Hungarian countryside to write and get a little time away from the life you’d left behind.  you were only looking for peace and perhaps some inspiration for your novel, but instead you found an unlikely connection with the immigrant repairman– even though the two of you don’t speak the same language.

word count: 3.8k

warnings: smut (semi-public fingering, specifically), angst... I think that's it

After your impromptu motorcycle drive you stayed out all night; exploring the empty city, ducking into dive bars if they were still open, dancing in the streets to music only the two of you could hear.

The city was so eerily empty at night, nothing like a metropolitan complex like London. But it was less creepy and more peaceful, especially when you were walking with Sebastian hand-in-hand along the cobblestone path. He started to swing your hand as you walked and it made you laugh.

“Teach me more Romanian words, please,” you requested, looking at him and struggling to fight your smile. “Română?”

“Eu voi,” he nodded, looking around and pointing to the ground. “Stradă.”

“Stradă... we call it the street,” you answered. “Or road. Road?” you prompted.

“Road,” he repeated.

“Good! Your pronunciation isn’t too bad either,” you grinned.

“Copac,” he announced as he pointed to a tree.

“Copac,” you repeated. “In English, it’s tree.”

“Tree,” he smiled. “Engleza este o prostie.”

He suddenly pulled you into him and spun you around in a twirl, making you laugh. “Dans,” he said as he stepped his feet in time with yours. “A dansa.”

“Yeah, dancing,” you smiled. “I haven’t danced in years, you know, except for tonight.”

He surprised you with a sudden kiss that was unexpectedly chaste, just a press of his lips on yours that either lasted longer than it normally would or just slowed time for a moment. “Sărut,” he whispered when he pulled back.

”Sărut,” you repeated.

“Aș putea să te sărut ore în șir. Ai cele mai perfecte buze,” he breathed, running his thumb over your bottom lip which had gone slack just from listening to him talk.

Your fingers trailed down over the portion of his chest exposed by his unbuttoned collar. “I didn’t know I could feel this way about somebody,” you admitted aloud to yourself. “I wish I could stay…”

His hands lifted your face to look up at him. “Nu face asta. Nu te mai ascunde în gândurile tale. Fi cu mine.”

“Sărut?” you requested, making him grin.

“Da, iubirea mea,” he cooed as he leaned in and kissed you again, smiling into it.

You really hadn't even liked kissing all that much before you met him… you just hadn't seen the appeal beyond warming up to more exciting activities, but now? This was all the excitement you needed; you could kiss him for hours and never get bored.

That said, apparently Sebastian had exciting plans of his own, because you found yourself being backed up against a brick wall, his hands exploring your body— subtle at first, just rubbing your arms and gripping your waist, but then it got less ambiguous as you felt his fingers toying with the hem of your shirt, just barely grazing over your stomach.

His touch trailed higher, nearly reaching your breast but stopping just before: you didn't mean to whine impatiently, but you heard it muffled against his lips and felt him chuckle lightly, breaking the kiss and leaning in to whisper in your ear.

"Atât de nevoiași," he hummed, nibbling on your earlobe as your thighs clenched together much too strongly when he'd barely touched you.

You clutched at his shirt, watching as his hand moved down to the top of your pants, the tips of his fingers just barely breaching past the fabric and starting to slide down.

"Here?" you gasped, finally remembering you were in public though you hadn't seen another person out here since you left the bar.

His hand moved lower down and your stomach fluttered with the forbidden nature of it all, feeling like a rebellious high schooler fooling around behind the movie theater when you both had curfew in ten minutes. But then he found your clit right away and it was nothing like high school.

"Oh fuck," you whimpered, shuddering and pushing your hips up to silently beg for more. He rubbed circles over your bud and smiled against your neck, already making it a struggle for you to stay quiet.

“Un alt cuvânt pe care ar trebui să-l știi,” he whispered, the pitch of his voice making it clear he was saying something beautifully filthy, “este dracu. Vreau să te dracu.”

“Seba, please,” you sighed.

"Dar nu cred că o pot face aici," he added with a soft laugh.

Two fingers suddenly pushed into you and didn't seem to struggle with it at all since he already had you soaked, curling into a tender spot inside you right away.

“Yes,” you whined.

“Yes?” he repeated with a smirk.

“Yes,” you said it again, “fuck yes.”

“Fuck,” he laughed, the word that was so familiar to you almost sounding foreign when he said it. “Spui asta mult. Cred că asta înseamnă că vei veni.”

“Your fingers feel so good,” you moaned, barely enough air in your lungs to get the words out. "Please… please don't stop…"

He kissed you again, open-mouthed and desperate as you both breathed heavily, his tongue sliding against yours as if to taste your moans. Hoping to stay upright now that your knees felt a little wobbly, you slipped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer. That, in turn, led to you feeling the hard outline of his cock pressing against your thigh and you nearly melted right there, wishing you could feel him inside you now but figuring it probably wasn't worth the risk of being arrested for indecent exposure.

By now he knew you like the back of his hand, it seemed, because you were already throttling full speed ahead toward the edge, shocks of heat jumping up your spine each time he curled his fingers inside you.

"I— I'm gonna—" you stammered through your warning. He nodded, moving his fingers faster as you bit your lip a little too hard.

Just when you thought you couldn't help but cry out he kissed you one more time, rough and hungry, and muffled the sounds of you reaching your peak literally by his hand.

Everything that had twisted and snapped all at once began to soothe as you sighed and pushed his hand away slowly, feeling your walls spasm one more time when he slipped his fingers out and slid them right over your clit.

He pulled his hand out of your pants and brought his fingers to your lips; you dutifully cleaned them off for him, watching his lips twitch into a brief snarl when you took his fingers down your throat.

"Vom termina asta mai târziu," he promised darkly as he pulled you off of the wall and spun you around, and you wanted to return the favor but he stopped your hand from sliding up his thigh. "Mai târziu," he insisted, instead guiding you around the block and back to where his bike was parked.

Hopping on the back again as he started it up, you relished the change to cling onto his back tightly. He drove you through the empty streets, over sprawling hills and through stone archways, but just as you noticed this wasn’t the way to get back to the farmhouse, he slowed down and turned into a place to park.

“Why are you pulling over?” you asked, furrowing your brow as he parked the bike and motioned for you to get off with him. “Where are we going?”

“Ai incredere in mine,” he smiled as he took your helmet off for you and kissed you again, quickly, taking your hand and guiding you down a secluded path. You followed him down a few strange alleys, under clotheslines and sconces that started to dim with the oncoming morning light. Finally, he navigated you around a turn, through a tight gap, and out of nowhere you were on an overlook; one that gave you the perfect view of the sun beginning to rise over the city. “Wow,” you whispered, watching enraptured as soft yellow light overtook everything, the village and the woods in the distance beginning to come to life.

“Vremuri de genul ăsta mă fac să-mi fie dor de casă,” he sighed, before looking at you again from where he leaned on his elbows over the stone railing. “Îți faci mai ușor. Nu mai sunt singur.”

“This place is so beautiful, I’ve never lived anywhere like this before,” you admitted. “Maybe it’s just that it’s different that makes me like it so much… I guess I could say the same about you.”

Your eyes met his again, and the way he looked at you… it was like he saw right through you. Honestly, it was a bit terrifying. You'd never been so vulnerable to someone. You liked it more than you expected.

But it still scared you.

"Haide, hai să mergem acasă," he smiled as he stood upright again and took your hand.

"Let's get back to the house," you decided, but he was already leading you back to the bike where you rode through the countryside one more time, doing your best to memorize it all while you still had the chance.

You found tears in your eyes, though you didn’t remember crying, as you typed the final page of your manuscript.

It was a first draft, nothing close to a completed novel, but you were on your way to jumpstarting your career again. The only problem? You couldn’t have a career here. You couldn’t be published while living here, you couldn’t even edit this thing properly without a computer and you didn’t even have one here.

You needed to go home.

It killed you to realize that this was not a sustainable system: you living here— Hungary or Mrs. Alberti’s lakehouse— and falling in love with a near-stranger.

Sure, it was good for what it needed to be; he reminded you what it was like to be cherished and cared for, maybe you helped him break some dry spell (although you couldn’t imagine that this guy was anything but drowning in pussy all the time, but whatever). Regardless, it couldn’t last. It wasn’t meant to be anything other than… whatever it was meant to be.

You flipped through the pages of what you’d written already, admiring the journey that you saw on the paper— not just that of the characters, but your own as well. You could feel the weakness in your own voice in that first chapter, as if your hurt was right there painted on the page with the ink-pressed letters. You could remember shakily typing these words, hoping they would distract you from the fears and memories that plagued your mind.

A few chapters in, you could see the hope and optimism that built with the action of the story. You could feel your own love mirrored in the way you wrote your story, it was painfully powerful.

It brought a sense of closure, in a way; it gave you a chance to appreciate everything you’d learned from this, even if you knew you couldn’t take it with you into the next chapter. But this love didn’t feel like a subplot, it didn’t feel like a stepping stone onto the next adventure— it felt like what you’d been looking for your whole life. Maybe that’s just how it feels to be in the ‘honeymoon phase’ or whatever it’s called; maybe it’ll fade soon, with time and distance.

That was what you silently prayed for as you packed everything, folded your clothes, checked the nightstand drawers for those random trinkets they seemed to accrue. Funny how packing to leave this place took you longer than it did to throw your stuff together when you left Michael, and you’d been living there for years.

Then again, you'd known Michael so much longer than you'd known Sebastian, and yet it was Seba that meant so much to you now.

You weren’t sure what would be more difficult: leaving him, or knowing that you could never hope to explain everything in a way he would understand. You considered writing a letter and hoping that he would come upon a Romanian to English dictionary— but with everything you wanted to say, that would take him hours. After all that, would he find your words worth it? Or would he see it all as one last chore from a peculiar fling?

You were pretty sure he didn’t see it as a fling. But maybe he would understand that it was best left as a very unique rebound.

You left your room just to go get some coffee (or maybe something a little stronger, if it was available) and jumped when you saw Sebastian in the hall, causing you to quickly close the door behind you. “I didn’t expect to see you upstairs,” you greeted.

“Obținerea cearșafurilor curate,” he explained as he opened the door to the linen closet and pulled out some bedsheets.

“Oh, yeah, those could probably use a change,” you mumbled as you realized he may not have washed them since the last time you stayed in his bed.

“Vrei și tu câteva?” he asked, pointing towards your door and holding up the sheets.

“Oh, uh, I don’t need any more sheets,” you shook your head, “but thank you…”

His face curled into a mischievous grin. “Poate că trebuie să murdărim acele foi,” he purred as he set the linens down and stepped closer to you, wrapping you in his arms.

“Seba,” you mumbled, but he must not have heard the hesitance in your voice as he leaned in and kissed your neck, making you sigh a little. He hummed contentedly and lightly bit your ear, and you were almost ready to just let him do it and procrastinate this conversation a little longer, but you had to sigh and push him back.

“Esti bine?” he asked, voice heavy with concern, as he straightened up and examined your face.

“Sebastian…” you started with a sigh, the words you’d been anxiously mulling over all night suddenly abandoning you. “What happened between us meant so much to me,” you continued slowly, “but the fact of the matter is, my first marriage isn’t even over yet. I mean, it’s over, but… I’m not really in a place where I can… start a new relationship…”

He looked back at you, that same blankness of incomprehension you were so used to painting his expression, and yet it was somber; he seemed to sense the tone, even if he was losing out on the specific ideas.

“It’s not fair to either of us, really,” you sighed. “I’m still mourning my marriage— and you were a really important part of that for me. So, thank you.”

You realized you needed to express your gratitude more thoroughly. Thinking quickly, you reached for his hand and opened it, placing his palm to your chest. He looked at you, a little confused.

“Thank you,” you repeated, looking him right in the eye.

He nodded slightly.

“Someday, somebody is gonna love you the way you need— the way you deserve,” you told him, stopping briefly to bite your lip in hopes it would stop quivering. “God, I wish it could be me. But it can’t.”

He held your face and kissed you, and much to your dismay it didn’t feel like a goodbye kiss. It didn’t feel like he knew this was the end. “Nu plânge,” he whispered. “Te iubesc.”

He kissed you again and you let yourself get lost in it like a complete fucking idiot, melting into his arms as he opened your bedroom door and pulled you inside with him. For a moment, it was like any other time, like any other perfect kiss with him, but then he pulled back and looked around and you had to watch his eyes as he realized. You had to watch his face as his smile fell away and his hope turned to despondence.

The whole room was packed. Heavy trunks on the bed, the sheets already stripped so Mrs. Alberti could wash them. Everything that made it feel like your room was gone, and it was just a guest room again, feeling bigger and emptier than ever.

All that was left was the typewriter on the table, because you still couldn't lift it.

“O să pleci,” he gasped, stepping back and releasing you from his embrace. “Chiar mă părăsești.”

You knew that look he was wearing on his face; beyond heartbreak— betrayal. You were all too familiar with it. “I’m so sorry,” you whimpered, “I would stay if I could, but I can’t, can I?”

A car horn honked outside, making you wince.

“That’s my ride,” you mumbled. “I have to go…”

You started to reach for your trunks and for a moment you thought that was really it. “Nu te duce,” he interjected suddenly, grabbing at your wrist and turning you to face him.

“I’m sorry— I have to leave—” you rushed, trying to grab your bags again.

“Nu te duce,” he repeated again desperately, pulling you close, cradling your face in his hands.

“Don’t make this any harder than it already is,” you pleaded as your eyes began to water.

“Stay,” he begged, and you didn’t know that he knew that word. A tear fell; you wished he didn’t.

“I’m sorry,” you shook your head, “I can’t.”

You stood up on your tiptoes to try to kiss him one last time, but he grimaced and pushed you away.

“Să trăieşti,” he said quickly, bitterly, as he stormed out of the room.

“Sebastian, wait—!”

But he was already running down the stairs; you heard the sound of the back door slamming a moment after he was out of sight, and another honk of the horn outside reminded you that you didn’t have time to chase after him. This wasn’t how you wanted it to end— really, you didn’t want it to end at all, and maybe if it had to (which it did) then this was as good a way as any. But you hated to leave like this when the last thing you wanted was to hurt him.

Defiantly wiping the tears from your face, you lifted the first of your trunks and made your way down the stairs, bringing them to the front door where the driver of the cab was waiting to carry them the rest of the way for you.

“Could you go upstairs and get my typewriter for me?” you asked him. “I can’t carry it well myself.”

He nodded and did as he was told, another small but painful reminder of your first day here. Mrs. Alberti came around the bend wearing a knitted shawl and a bittersweet smile.

“I hope you didn’t plan to go without saying goodbye,” she teased you.

“Of course not,” you smiled, “goodbye Mrs. Alberti.”

“I didn’t mean to me, dear,” she explained, making your heart twist.

“I don’t think he wants to hear it from me,” you admitted awkwardly. “I don’t think he can, literally.”

She just sighed and looked away, just as the driver loaded the last of your things into the trunk.

“So, this is it then,” you shrugged as you turned to face her.

“I doubt that,” she smiled. “It’s not a goodbye, sweetheart, just a ‘see you later.’”

“Sure,” you agreed, knowing she was wrong. You couldn’t come back here; you couldn’t leave him twice.

The driver shut the trunk and got back into the driver’s seat, leaving you to stare up at the house and take one last moment to soak it all in.

“You be sure to call me when your book is a big hit!” Mrs. Alberti instructed with a grin.

You were too choked up to say anything back, so you just waved and nodded as you got in the car and took a deep breath. “To the train station, please,” you mumbled to the driver, covering your eyes with your hand as you felt the car reverse and turn onto the road. You couldn't open them, or you’d look back, and you couldn’t look back.

Since your eyes were closed, you had no way to know that Sebastian chased after the car for nearly a block, giving up at the turn of the road, falling into the gravel and laying there for a while, repeating that one English word he couldn’t get out of his head: stay.

#sebastian stan au #sebastian stan x reader

[toddtakefive]

Honestly, I've been coming up with a LOT of prompts out of no where recently, so here's just a list of them...

1. "That was funny!"

"Really? But you've never found my jokes funny."

"What! Yes I have!"

"Uhm... *proceeds to list every time they've found their jokes not funny*."

2. "You ever wondered where babies come from?"

"You did not just ask me that."

"What! It's a genuine question!"

"You're twenty-three!"

3. "Why are you calling me at three A.M from a landline?"

"I made some smoothies."

"...ok?"

"Well do you want one?"

4. "Tell me again how we got from you throwing up in your moms car, to a fucking holding cell?"

5. "Your dad is scary, man."

"That was my brother..."

"..."

"..."

"You have an older brother?"

6. "As much as I love being held at gunpoint, can you maybe stop getting us into situations where we are HELD AT GUNPOINT?"

7. "It's not that high of a jump."

"Honestly, it's not high enough."

8. "Is your home screen a picture of my hand?"

"One, why are you on my phone, two, how do you know my password, and three, did you seriously recognize a picture of your hand from four years ago?"

9. "Your mom hates me."

"She likes you!"

"She threw a plate at my head."

"Well, Mazal tov right?"

"That's for marriage, and you know it!"

10. "Do you think I could win a fight with a bear with my nothing but my fists?"

"Why?"

"Someone said they'd pay me fifty bucks if I did."

11. "Didn't you get those shoes in eighth grade?"

"Maybe."

"Dude, we're seniors."

12. "I know gays own pool scenes or whatever, but I really would apprecite if everyone stopped making out in my pool."

13. "You said you're royalty, right?"

"That I did."

"Would you behead me if I asked?"

"...What?"

14. "It's honestly so tiring carrying all the looks in this group."

"Babe, I love you, but you carry a fourth of them at best."

15. "So I'm in trouble for expressing my opinion?"

"No! You're in trouble, as you so eloquently put it, for breaking the kid next doors nose!"

"He called me a loser..."

16. "You'd be a lot easier to deal with if you didn't argue with everything I said."

"I don't do that!"

17. "And if you look closely here, you'll see that I didn't pay attention to this class at all and I gave up half way through making my presentation."

"Can you stay after class? We need to have a little chat."

18. "Just because I stare at him all the time and want to know what it's like to hold his hand, and like kiss him and whatever doesn't mean I have a crush on him!"

"You are so much stupider than I thought you were holy shit."

19. "So this issue is done with, alright?"

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

"..."

"..."

"But you owe me another capri-sun."

"OH. MY. GOD."

20. "Are you reading fanfiction?"

21. "Duck!"

"Haha, quack."

*gets hit in the face with a ball*

22. "You're staring at the batter."

"I'm watching the game."

"No, you're staring at the batter on-deck."

"Shut up."

23. "So, what's it like working at a coffee shop."

"Absolutely riveting."

"Really?"

"No."

24. "Are you eating my cereal?"

"Perhaps."

25. "This is the height of betrayal! I can't believe I have a crush on you!"

"I win one game of jenga, and suddenly peoples crushes on me jus- wait you

have a crush on me?"

26. "You look like a stringbean."

"And you look like a damn fool each day, but I never commented before."

27. "Are you gonna eat that?"

28. "Pleasing people is so hard."

"Pleasing- YOU JUST TOLD MY DAD TO GO FUCK HIMSELF!"

"I never said I was any good at it."

"You're TERRIBLE at it!"

29. "You're Jewish, right?"

"You've known me since kindergarten, I thought you would know this already, but yeah."

"So like, if I were to marry you would one of us just have to like, convert?"

"...why are you thinking about what would happen if you married me?"

30. "Why is multiplication so hard!"

"I'm sorry. Did you, a fucking PHYSICS MAJOR, just say that MULTIPLICATION was hard?"

31. "My computer brokle again."

"I fixed it a week ago."

32. "Why do you do that?"

"Huh?"

"That thing with your nose. You like scrunch it up all the time."

33. "Why are you staring at me?"

"Sorry, I was looking at your beauty mark!"

"I have a beauty mark?"

34. "I'm gonna commit a crime!"

"Let's go back a few steps. Why are you mad?"

35. "Looking good there, cutie."

"Are you seriously trying to flirt with me after running face first into the shop door?"

"You saw that?"

"All the cashiers saw it."

36. "Killer shoes."

"Thanks, I stole them."

37. "Not to be poor or anything, but can I borrow five bucks?"

"Did you seriously start that sentence off with 'not to be poor or anything'?"

38. "Crazy how you're effortlessly cute."

"Crazy how you're effortlessly annoying. But thank you. You're honestly not that bad yourself"

39. "Good news! I got a number from the girl I was talking to."

"And the bad news?"

"It definitely wasn't hers."

"How do you know?"

"Cause she wrote down yours."

40. "Hey, can you help me get this cat out of this tree?"

"Who are you...?"

I'm definitely not gonna be writing all of these, so @justanaveragefangirlsblog feel free to use literally ANY of these!

#writing prompt #my brain just comes up with these out of NOWHERE so #might write some of these #fanfiction #fanfic #reddie #stenbrough #merthur #sasunaru #snowbaz #sp style #south park creek #klance #tomco #reed900 #byler #asheiji #harley keener x peter parker #gumlee #birdflash #drarry #rumir #damien x oz #sukka #prinxiety #tododeku #kiribaku #boyf riends #richjake

[internalsealpanic]

The Dog and Duck

summary: Dick Grayson is a terrible flirt (in more ways than one).

a/n: Special thanks to @jd-loves-everyone, @littleredwing89, @glorified-red, and @multifandomgirl-us for proofreading! This fic is based on a headcanon by @pricetagofficial (I think) that Dick Grayson is actually terrible at flirting which is just the cutest thing.

warnings: Potential cringe and terrible flirting advice

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

The sound of voices and clinking of glasses mingle around you like a bustling symphony: discordant, rhythmic, clashing but endlessly vibrant. The scent of alcohol hung thick in the air, enough to taste and intoxicate. The amount of people in such a small space made something under your skin hum, whether it was simply an irritable Yasiri or the buzzing energy stored in your bones or maybe even a genuine discomfort, you weren’t entirely sure.

You sip lightly at the scotch in your glass, letting it burn through your throat, but it wasn’t enough to make the itch in it go away completely. 

 You watch Dick’s eyes intently as they slide past you, just over your shoulder. His sentences coalesce clumsily, syllables squishing and clipping at odd ends as his plush bottom lip catches between his teeth. His eyes are glossy with interest even in the dim lights of the pub. His pupils are blown and dark. You fight everything in you to stamp down the urge to huff or roll your eyes. Not that he would have noticed. You’re pretty sure you could stab someone in the eye and Dick wouldn’t even blink, not when he is so enraptured by whatever the hell is behind you. You feel a gross sticky sort of jealousy pool in the pit of your stomach.  You swallow it down not really knowing of any other way to deal with it. 

 You arch a brow, the tips of your nails tapping loudly against the lacquered wood of the table as Dick once again stumbles absentmindedly over his story about Wally West being living proof of the need for warning labels (for people). You click your teeth irritably while Yasiri’s tail rattles against your collarbone before you take another sip, eyes following his only for them to land on a vivacious redhead at the bar. The irritation bubbling in your veins dwindles into mild amusement. Your best friend is a hilariously predictable moron. 

 “She is either a suspect or you’re being a creep.” You tease, the cruel curve of your lips barely obscured by the glass pressed against them. The mockery in your eyes shining amber like the drink in your glass. Dick’s cheeks flush as the playful lilt in your voice lances through the fog in his mind. He looks at you, dopey and red-cheeked as if he didn’t know what you were talking about. You roll your eyes, nostrils flaring letting out a breath caught between a huff and a laugh. “Stalker.” You hiss, trying to smother the warmth in your voice with sheer, unadulterated pettiness. 

 Dick levels you a look, cutting and vicious if he wasn’t flushed. “Am not.” He whines halfheartedly, eyes flicking once again to the woman at the bar. Some part of you is sure you really ought to be mad at him. After all, you haven’t seen each other for almost half a year. This is thanks in part to work and in part to work getting royally fucked up. Thankfully, not because of Gotham’s resident furry and his new little bird boy. Really, you should be furious at being sidelined considering this outing was his idea but here you were smirking into your malt whiskey, tickled. 

 “Then stop staring.” You challenge, unfolding and relaxing into the moldy cushioning of the bar. Dick glares at you, the pout on his lips obscured by his hand as he rests his chin on his palm but you know it’s there. You’ve memorized the plains of his face and how they shaped themselves, a product of spending far too much time staring at the details.  Hey, if he was gonna third wheel you the least you could do was tease him about it. “Or do you want me to wingman for you~”

 “HELL NO”

 You can’t stop the cackle that spills from your lips. “Why not?!”

 “I’m not letting you cockblock me. AGAIN.”

 “That was one tiiime, Joystick.”

 “Once was enough!" 

 "’Fiiiine but to be fair,  you still ended up dating her, didn’t you?” You defended weakly, running your fingers through your hair, jostling the already wind whipped strands. Dick was red-faced. The liquor was definitely working through his system. The color in his cheeks was lively and cute, making him look boyish despite how much he’d grown. You had, in fact, cockblocked him due to an extreme bout of jealousy, childishness, and hormones. Back then you hadn’t yet learned the art of burying your feelings 6 feet under.

 “Fine, fine, fine. Just shoot your shot, Dickie bird.” This does not appease him. He, in fact, crosses his arms over his chest. You set your glass down and raise your brow. “If you fail, I’ll buy you a round.” You add placatingly. Dick’s eyes slide over your shoulder, the lump in his throat bobbing.“Make that two.” 

 Your eyes shine, cat-like the dim lighting of the lamp overhead. You smile at him all cocksure, placing your chin on your intertwined fingers.“Deal.”

 Dick gives you a withering look as he pushes off the table. You take a sip of your daiquiri as he moves through the crowd, gracefully slicing through the sea of bodies. No, maybe they were parting just for him. Dick does have that air about him. A pull that made it so painfully obvious that he was so much more. Dick also had this way of talking that made you unsure of whether you’re being flirted with or if it’s just the way he talks to people. Either way, he had this way of making you feel special and you had no doubt he would sweep this one off her feet.  

 The redhead at the bar tipped her head finally sensing his gaze on her and as per your expectation, she seemed to reciprocate the interest. Not that you can blame her. Dick was a 10 on his worst day. Now that you thought about it, you’ve never actually seen Dick flirt. You’ve seen him banter but flirt? You can’t seem to think of an instance of it. This’ll be fun. 

 You watch him closely and your brows climb higher than you thought they could. Something was off, something very un-Dick-like. There’s an unsteadiness in his step that makes your stomach sink. Dick wouldn’t. Even Dick wasn’t stupid enough to blow his shot just to get a few shots, would he?

 And then it happened.

 “Did it hurt when you hit your face?” Dick asks, winking stiffly. A ripple of pain lances through you followed by an unbearable wave of second-hand embarrassment. “Excuse me?!” Her face morphs into something terrifying before Dick’s brain can catch up. You watch in mute horror as Dick’s face slowly matches the sinking feeling in your gut as embarrassment suffused his entire body. 

 “Wait, shit. I- I meant- Shit. I didn’t mean to say you look like you banged your face. I mean, of course, you don’t-” You watch in fascination as Dick stumbles through apology after apology after apology. Until finally, he gives up. “Actually, I’ll just leave.” Dick shambles gracelessly back to your table while your brain tries to process what just happened. 

 You wheeze against the table, pounding your fist against the table. “Dickie, yanno you did have a shot before you opened your mouth, right?” Your hand is clamped over your mouth trying to stop the shrill cackle bubbling in your throat. 

 “Y/n...” 

 “Jeez, Dicktopus, was gin really worth getting blue balled?”

 “You better have your money,” he sneers, cutting you a scathing look as he slides into the booth. 

 “I-” The smug look on your face vanishes when you reach into your wallet. “If I apologize for you, will you cut me some slack?” you try, brandishing your nearly empty wallet. 

 “I’ll buy you a shot if she doesn’t tell you to fuck off.”

 “Hmm, if I get her number for you, will you get me two?”

 “Sure, why not?” Dick whines petulantly. His head sinks into his arms desperately trying very hard  to implode. You cough into your sleeve trying not to laugh and hope he doesn’t notice. A blush creeps up the tanned skin of his neck. He tries to hide it by placing his hand on his neck but the color’s already made its way to his ears. Feeling a little bad for him, you squeeze Dick’s shoulder once, then twice, then twice once more. You swing your legs dramatically out of the booth. You hear Dick groan and you chuckle. 

 You flick your eyes to him one last time before moving forward. You roll your shoulders, realigning your form into something more suave and less goofy. The rhythm of your feet goes from a clumsy shuffle to a confident saunter. The woman looks at you skeptically, her lashes fluttering mockingly. You move, easy and casual. With a playful grin, you apologize and make up some bullshit excuse about Dick being extremely shy. She eases. You continue on your little sales pitch as if it was the most natural thing in the world.  You draw a laugh out of her. You can hear her heart pick up. She smiles at you telling you that you and your shy friend are fine. You chuckle and promise to tell your long-suffering friend that, tilting your chin towards Dick who is still trying to melt into the table. She scribbles her number onto a napkin and hands it to you with a flirtatious wink. You smile lopsided, cute and sheepish, as you wave her goodbye.

 Dick stares at you with slack-jawed awe. This time you feel genuinely bashful but you shrug it away with a sharklike grin spreading across your face.

“Pay up, pretty bird,” you say slamming the number on the table, teeth gleaming in the low light of the room. The petty satisfaction oozing off of you is almost palpable. Dick looks up at you, his pretty mouth twisting.  “What are you? Seven?”

 “If by seven you mean lucky, then yeah,” you sneer, nudging your empty shot glass against Dick’s shoulder. “Pay up, Dickenson~” you sing. Dick’s face twists even more and he waves you off, pushing off the table.

 “Let’s just go,” Dick bites out, cheeks burning. You bite your lips trying to resist the urge to tease him more but it’s hard. Not when he’s all pouty and cute.  

 “I mean you did just wine and dine me,” you laugh musically. You promised yourself you would stop teasing him but you never said you would stop making jokes. There’s a complicated expression on Dick’s face before it shifts back to exasperation. 

 “You. Are. Awful.”

 You shake your head not even denying it as you follow him out of the old Dog and Duck into the fresh Bludhaven air. 

“How are you good at this?” Dick whines into one of your throw pillows. The poorly counterfeit superman one he had gotten you a few years ago from a trip to the Philippines. He's pouting at you like a kid. To be fair, you did laugh at him in the club (and the whole way back to your safehouse which was not a short walk).

 You chuckle, tapping a cool can of beer against his forehead.“Sadly some of us need to work at being charming, Dimples McGee.” He accepts the can, scowling at you. Your grin doesn’t waver which only serves to deepen his scowl. It was an irritating feedback loop. Well, irritating for Dick. You’re having the time of your life. You settle on the other side of the couch rolling your beer can in your hand. “ Plus, you’ve seen pops talk right? The man sweet talks like his life depends on it.” 

 “Right, I’ll remember to ask him for flirting advice next time he tries to kill me,” Dick says, rolling his eyes at you. You perk up at the awful idea before you snicker and press a hand to your lips in a barely held back smile. It’s Dick’s turn to perk up. His blue eyes shine with interest at your expression like he’s trying to capture it. You turn to him with a serious expression. “Please, please ask him that. I will pay you to record his reaction. Please. Please. Dickle, please,” you beg, moving on your knees to his side, your hands clasped in prayer.  Dick shifts sticking his tongue out at you childishly. 

 “Noooooo!”

 “Pleeeeeeaaaaaseee”

 “No!”

 With an ‘oof’, you plop yourself between Dick’s legs, your chest against his. You stare up at him with eyes mimicking the wide-eyed innocent look he uses on you when he asks for a favor. Dick gives you a sorry look asking you to please drop it. You don’t. You double down trying to look as cute as possible. 

 Dick looks down at you, glaring then grimacing then smiling. “Ok, fine,” he huffs stiffly, wrapping his arms around you. You snuggle up against him, smug in your victory.  Your nose brushes against Dick’s pulse which makes his breath hitch. He squirms under you but you just find yourself laughing. “You. Are. Evil. ”

 “I promise to make your Granny’s goulash,” you say in a halfhearted attempt to appease him. Dick’s face softens  “Now, that’s just bribery.”

 “You’re gonna be a cop here in Bludhaven. You gotta learn how to take bribes.”

 His brows crease as you shake your head. Dick huffs, planting his chin against the crown of your head before pressing his lips to your hair. You feel one of his arms pulling you closer, his hand threading through the tangle of your hair. You smile against his skin, breath tickling him which just makes him squirm. He’s breathless under your touch and you don’t even know it. You two sit basking in the close proximity and the soft intimacy you two shared. Your limbs tangle and twine around each other carelessly. 

 Out of context, you two could have been lovers. 

 You sigh, feeling a bit drowsy from the ‘tussle’. You blink, mind reaching for something. “Wait…. Brucie flirts like his life depends on it too! What’s your excuse?” you grin, jabbing a finger into his chest. Dick scowls at you, clearly flustered again. He stammers, babbling out answers. “Hey, I- I could probably do it...” Dick mutters, finally finding a semblance of coherence. 

  “After that performance?” You challenge, sitting up, eyebrow raised and arms crossed. A sharp laugh spills from your lips. It’s louder than you intended, your entire chest moving along with every exhalation of air. 

 Dick looks at you like a kicked puppy which has you roaring with laughter. “You don’t have to laugh that hard”

 “Admit it, Grayson, you are an actual bonafide dork”

 “I’ll bonafide you,” he growls and you’re bent into the couch cushions, clutching your stomach. Dick looks like your house plant like he’s about to disintegrate. You sit up again and cross your legs. Your lungs expand as you draw in another calming breath before you give him a softer, lopsided smile, placing a hand on his knee and shaking him gently. “Come on, practice on me I’m probably one of the few people you don’t have a stick up your ass around.” Dick, not getting up, puts his hands in his face looking positively mortified by the idea. You make a little affronted noise in the back of your throat and thanks to whatever god is up there that you don’t seem to know how much he doesn’t wanna fuck up flirting with you.   

 “I don’t know how to!” The cry is muffled but the mortification still bleeds through. The admission startles something out of you. “Holy shit, Nightwing can’t flirt his way out of a paper bag. Oh my god, this is great!” you cackle, falling into the cushions. 

 “I’m trying damn it!”

 “Ok. Ok. Ok.” You breathe. You’re still clutching your still aching stomach. You wish you recorded that confession.  “Ok. Phew. Ok, I need a minute,” you say folding over into the cushions again, another bubble of laughter rising in your throat. This is the best ab workout you’ve had in months. 

 “Take your time,” Dick deadpans, rolling his eyes, color rising in his tanned cheeks. 

 “Ooook, I think I’m good. First, we need to work on your wink.”

 “The hell is wrong with my wink?” A wry smile tugs at the corner of your lips. You make vague hand gestures, hoping somehow you could physically pluck the correct words from the air.  “Just try winking, Ric.” Dick raises his brow but gives in. He winks at you in his usual devilishly charming way. You shake your head. “Wink at me like you’re trying to get my number.”

He stiffens and gives you the most artificial wink you’ve seen outside of a bad 50s flick. You drag your hand over your face. “How come you can wink so naturally while fighting and look like you work at in car sales when you flirt”

 Dick tries again. He ends up closing both his eyes and scrunching his nose- looking like a disgruntled puppy. You squeal and Dick’s eyes fly open. Your mouth works to flatten itself but your mind is still picturing the expression. “What?” he growls. You wave him off. “Sorry. Sorry. Just- just try again. Please.” 

 Dick gives you another stiff wink and you’re surprised to find yourself cringing at your best friend for the first time in your life. You drag your hand over your face. “You look like you’re trying to ask me to prom.”

 “You’ve never even been to a prom!”

 “Who do you think scares off Joey’s dates? Pops?” you snort picking up your beer can and taking a sip.  “Did you miss the absentee father part?”

 You both silently agree to move on. 

 “How the flying fuck did you date both Babs and Kory with your atrocious flirting skills?”

 “I have good pick up lines.”

 “Uh, sure, buddy.”

 “It worked on both of them!”

 “Well, hit me.”

 “Call me Fred Flintstone,”  you wait patiently, “cause I’ll make your bedrock.” Another artificial wink. 

 You blink at him, mind still trying to catch up. “Dick you are the epitome of ‘you’re lucky you’re cute’,” you groan, palm flat against your forehead. 

 “I’m not cute! I’m handsome!” Dick protests, mouth twisting into a pout. A shrill squeal is dying in the back of your throat as you draw a breath. You pinch his cheeks, “you pouting just furthers my point.”

 “Are you just trying to destroy my confidence?” Dick whines, lightly shoving you away. 

 “Oh no, the girl back at the club did that. I am just dancing on your grave.”

 “Give me another wink.”

 Dick fails at winking, again. You cringe openly at him and he scowls at you halfheartedly, more defeated than angry. Dick’s used to being good at things, you supposed. You tap your finger against your chin, trying to unspool a thought and rethread it into words. “Ok, figured out one of your problems.”

“Aside from my terminal dorkiness?”

 “You’re too nervous-”

 “You would be too,” Dick cuts in. 

You snicker, teeth bared in a mocking grin. ”Did you miss the part where I got her number?” Dick refuses to answer. You sigh but you can’t keep the smile off your face. “Let’s start with body language because for a guy with so much muscle control you are shit at this.”

 “You’re just gonna keep being mean,” he moans. 

 “I’ll stop being mean when you sweep me off my feet,” you jab. 

 “Ok, fine, maestro. What do you need me to do?”

  “You’ve got to lean into me and smile coyly,” you say vaguely.  Dick leans in close, your noses touching, his lips ghosting over yours. You can feel his breath hot against your lips. It sends bolts of electricity careening through your nerves. Your brain takes its sweet time catching up, giving your body ample time to soak up the proximity of the almost kiss. You gasp then reign yourself in. “Dickle, that’s- that’s a teensy bit too close,” you laugh awkwardly, hands playfully shoving at his chest. 

 Dick shakes out of his haze. “You said to lean in!” he says leaning into your space again. “Yeah, I did but I never said lean in close enough to eat my face. I can smell the gin in your breath,” you snort airly, pushing at his chest again. 

 Dick sits back, embarrassment creeping into his features. His bottom lip is caught between his teeth as if he’s thinking carefully about his next few words. “I’m just-” Dick puts his head in his hands. “Like you said, I’m too nervous.” 

 You raise a brow. The sound that comes out of you is too sharp and disbelieving to be a laugh. “Pfffft, it’s just me, you dork.”

 That’s the problem, Dick thinks. It’s you. The exasperation bleeds into his features. Dick fidgets, shifting and shaking in his seat like a wet chihuahua. Don’t you know how much he wants to get this right for you?. 

 “Stop twitching! You look like you’re having a seizure.”

 “I’m nervous!!” he says. “Don’t you ever get nervous about a person you like?”

 You side eye him. “I do,” you admit, rubbing your thumb over your tattoo out of habit. Dick’s eyes widen, then narrow. You see the word ‘who’ forming on his lips but his train of thought is cut off by the sound of Yasiri’s tail rattling against your skin as she emerges. Your poor danger noodle is likely frustrated with the lack of progress. You quietly thank her by scratching her chin.  “Whatever made this world just decided that you had to have at least one very obvious flaw,” you say, insincerely patting him on the back.

 “You're enjoying this.”

 “Way more than you think,” you say grinning at him. Dick simply grimaces at you. “You’re not helping me.”

 “Were you really expecting me to help?” You shrug. “Why would I do that?”

 “I’d help you!”

 You level him with a flat look. “No, you wouldn’t. You’d laugh just as hard as I did.” Dick opens his mouth then closes it. He opens it again. You raise your brow at him. “ I- ok yeah. No, I would laugh harder,” he says, giving you a cheeky, lopsided smile. Vindication and something warmer tug your features into a smile.

 “Just… relax and be yourself,” you mock sagely. Dick rests his head on yours. “ I hate you,” he groans, pressing his shoulder into yours. 

  “You’re just thinking about it too much,” you say, pressing back, “just do what’s natural. The more you over try the funnier it is.”

 “Goes back to my problem of being nervous,” he huffs into your hair. You boop his nose. “Goes back to my point about you overthinking things.”

 “I’m not!”

 “Fine.”

 “Fine?”

 “Fine,” you say, reaching back and presenting your danger noodle in your palm, "practice on Yazzy.”

 “You’re not serious?”

 You hold up the clearly unamused snake eye level with Dick. “Go on." Dick gives you a withering look. He exasperates, then looks deep into Yasiri’s black eyes. He opens his mouth and Yasiri flicks her tongue at him. The next few things happen in quick succession. Dick’s body relaxes. His face breaks into a smile that makes your heart flutter. He lets out a bubble of laughter that has you jumping and reaching for your own breath. "I can't!" he gasps. You both dissolve into laughter. 

 “Suit yourself - but prepare to have blue balls," you grin, punching his shoulder, "at least, they'll match your new suit!" you cackle. Dick flushes red.“I - I - you are legally the worst and most unhelpful human being in modern history!”

 Your cackle rises higher even as Dick shoves a pillow in your face. You push it away and wipe the tears away from your eyes. “Just practice on me, go on,” you say, reaching out, “once more." He frowns at you. "Please?”

 Dick closes his eyes. His movements become leisurely the way you've seen him when he's about to do a routine on the trapeze. “Do you have a map?” he says, pushing a strand of hair out of your eyes. The oxygen in your lungs evaporates. Heat spreads from the line of skin Dick’s finger grazed to the rest of your body. You swallow trying not to collapse under the weight of his gaze. You realize he's expecting an answer. "No, why?” you stammer out stupidly. 

  “Because I keep getting lost in your eyes,” he says, eyes glittering in the dim lights of your apartment. Some part of your brain short circuits, fizzing out in sparks and fire, then the rest of your brain follows. The entire structure goes out in a puff of smoke. You're completely frozen. Dick watches you with a furrowed brow, bottom lip caught between your teeth. Apprehension rolls off of him in waves and you can feel your lungs work again. "Exactly! Exactly that!" You squeal in delight. Dick smiles relieved. "I knew you could do it, you magnificent dork. I could kiss you right now!" you say squishing his cheeks and pressing your forehead against his. Dick’s breath catches. There's a hopeful look in his eyes. "Would you?" 

 Something clogs your throat as you pull away. You're pretty sure it's your heart. You force the nervous laughter in your throat into something else. "Need practice with that too, Dickens?" 

 "Dunno," he hedges, eyes holding yours, "you tell me." His hand cups the side of your face. You ease into his touch like a marshmallow dissolving into hot cocoa. "Can I?" he whispers, thumb brushing against your bottom lip. He's being careful with you you realize. Your eyes flutter closed. You can feel your nerves disentangling. They cross and recross so that you're fully aware of your lips. The gap between the two of you is small but it feels so impossibly big. Anticipation, anxiety, and excitement all thicken the spaces between you. You want him. You want this. Is it so wrong? 

 "Yes."

Tag list:  @batarella, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @idkmanicantenglish,@birdy-bat-writes,  @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders , @l-inkage, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay, @wunderstell   @hyp-oh-critical @glorified-red

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson #merc!reader #my writing

[ninjago-happens-here]

@ninjago-angst-week sorry I'm late!

Day 6: Anger

Kai hates the universe for everything. Surprisingly, his teammates don’t agree.

Or 5 times where Kai lets anger control him, and 1 time he doesn't.

Word count: 13,944

- Nya - It’s been 6 days. Kai has spent all his time at Wu’s Monastery doing nothing but training and passing out from exhaustion. The only reason why he kept going was his love of his sister- and his spite against the universe. First Spinjitsu Master, why had Lord-fucking-Germadon take his sister as a hostage? He was just a poor blacksmith, trying his best to make ends meet and to get a proper education for his bright, 14-year-old sister. But the universe has decided to throw another curveball at him by forcing him to become a ninja and complete this stupid course-

“ARGH!” Kai shouted in frustration as he was thrown off by the training course, again. “Failed,” Wu said and took a sip of his tea. Punching the obstacle course, with another shout, Kai seethed, seeing the colour red dancing all over his eyes. What did the old man know about saving people anyways? Why can’t he just fight Wu and be done with it? Graduate his class, be finally given the location to where his sister is, and end this chapter of his life- because he was all for it.

Looking for his tormentor, Kai noticed that Wu has slipped away, with all the stealth that only a ninja master has.

Taking deep breaths, Kai balled his fists even tighter, nails pressing indents into his palms. Tomorrow. There still was tomorrow. And by god was he going to pass because he won’t let his sister spend another day in captivity.

All he needed to do was complete the training course before Wu finishes his tea.

He had done it. Of course, it took a well-timed sword throw to technically pass, but he was done sitting around and waiting for some unknown force to rescue Nya. Master Wu told him to get a goodnight’s rest as they were going to leave in the morning. Yeah right. As if he wasn’t going to spend this night tossing and turning around again.

He didn’t spend the night staring into the ceiling of the monastery. Rather, he was rudely ambushed by 3 men dressed in black, who actually weren’t as much of a challenge that Kai thought they would pose. Huh, maybe the training Sensei Wu put him through was pretty useful after all.

All praises for the cryptic old man were thrown away once Wu revealed the 3 men to be his students. Seriously? Didn’t Wu just tell him to get a good night’s rest? Kai barely kept the snarl inside him when Wu did his spinjitzu thingy and he suddenly was in an entirely different get-up.

Hey! Kai thought angrily. What’s the big deal? The garment was loose-fitting and a solid shade of red, and whilst red may be Kai’s colour, the garb was still drab-looking and overall, not something Kai would have picked out for himself..

Wu then gave a quick introduction of the 3 men who attacked him, who were probably called Jey, Zain, and Coal. Hey, don’t look at him like that! It’s not like he had the time to go to school and learn Maths and the Ninjago Alphabet. Anyways, they were all, apparently Elemental Masters? Of lightning, ice and earth nonetheless. Now, Kai can understand Earth. And Kai of course can give a testament to fire. But what do lightning and ice have to do with the elements? Shouldn’t it be Air, Water, Earth, and Fire or something along those lines? What was the FSM thinking, naming these the elements of creation?

Just as Kai was about to head back into the monastery and actually catch a few Zs, Wu called to them telling them that they have to protect the 4 weapons of spinjitzu in order to beat Garmadon to them, for the Skulkin must have taken the map that Wu had hidden in the Four Weapons.

“And rescue my sister,” Kai stated, daring anyone to challenge this non-negotiable mission.

“We’re rescuing a girl? Is she hot?” The ninja in blue (seriously, why blue on a ninja? It really does not help his stealth) just straight up asked Kai if his sister was hot. Kai’s first instinct, of course, was to punch Jay hard in the teeth, followed by an elbow straight to his gut. But if he was going to be teammates with this guy, he had to control his urges and only glare at him through the convenient slit in his mask. The blue ninja chuckled nervously as Kai’s eyes bore holes into him.

“Does she like blue?”

“Back. Off.”

“When we find the weapons, we will find your sister. We rise at dawn to look for the Scythe of Quakes in the Caves of Despair,” Wu concluded the impromptu meeting at night, which diffused the tension between Kai and Jay. The fiery anger he felt pooling in the balls of his hands started to dissipate. In fact, most of his energy was gone too. Kai felt like he was sagging under the weight on his shoulders and immediately headed for his room, where he collapsed immediately upon reaching the soft, inviting mattress. It was the best sleep he had in possibly years.

Of course, Sensei Wu upheld his promise of rousing them at dawn to go collect the first Golden Weapon. What he didn’t warn the ninja beforehand was that he was going to use them to be his literal slaves, and Kai spent the morning running whilst pulling a carriage like a horse. This has to be illegal, Kai grumbled to himself. He was starting to be seriously short on breath. Luckily, his teammates seem to at least have some strength and endurance training, so whilst he was stationed at the easy middle, Cole was at the front spearheading the charge whilst still holding conversations like it was no big deal.

“So…huff, how did Sensei find you guys?” Kai panted, wanting to learn more about his teammates.

“Let’s just say if it wasn’t for Sensei Wu, we wouldn’t be seen together.“ Cole started

“I was testing my limits,” Cole gave a brief description of how when he was rock climbing, he found Sensei Wu already at the top of the mountain, drinking tea and offering him a cup.

“I was testing my inventions,” Jay also panted out, and tried to ramble about how he was testing a flying machine and crashed through a billboard (what?) before seeing Sensei Wu, was also drinking tea and offering him a cup. He couldn’t really talk too much, because at this point he was getting tired too.

“And I, was testing myself,” Zane said, whilst recalling how he was practicing to hold his breath underwater for even longer periods of time when he found Sensei Wu sitting next to him at the bottom of the pond, still somehow drinking tea before offering some to him, which immediately led Zane to choke.

“You’re right, if it wasn’t for Sensei, none of us would-” Kai said before Wu shouted at them to stop. They were here.

Immediately, everything felt more real to Kai. The drowsiness that he felt clouding his mind was cleared as pure adrenaline shot through his veins. He couldn’t fail now. Not when Nya’s life was on his hands. All he has to do was to collect 4 Ancient Weapons that have powers and he would be able to face off with Lord Garmadon. Jumping into action, he weaved through the Skulkin that were strolling and working in the area, body moving in autopilot and mind focusing on only one thing: Get the weapon.

On his way to the opening of the cave, Kai spotted Samurai reading the map to the 4 Golden Weapons on a watchtower. Kai immediately took a detour and climbed up onto the roof, where he could see Samukai reading the map.

“What’s the matter with you,” Jay whispered, hitting Kai on the head. Kai shushed him, before returning to watch Samukai laugh menacingly whilst holding the map upside down. Kai wondered how incompetent he was one week ago to have let this guy kidnap his sister. “The Golden Weapon is near,” Zane observed, before taking out a shuriken with a rope attached before looking at Cole for confirmation and then throwing it done, landing squarely in the middle of the map before pulling it back, holding the prize squarely in his hands.

There was no time to waste. Kai immediately backflipped off the building before climbing to the outcrop where 2 guards were stationed. Picking up a convenient lamp head, Kai carefully snuck by the 2 guards before ducking into the cave system. Kai began to start pushing the rock blocking the path to the weapon. But no matter how much he exerted himself, it didn’t move one inch. He felt like he was trying to make a sword again, doing everything he could but still failing. Grunting and groaning, Kai gave it his all.

Not soon enough, Kai heard the footsteps of his teammates.

“Hey, before you race off again, you gotta remember that we’re a team.” Cole’s patronizing voice made Kai stop his futile attempts at trying to push the boulder on his own. Kai looked at the 3 Ninja before sighing. “Yeah, whatever.”

The white, black and blue Ninja gathered around him and they all started to push, actually managing to shift the rock. Giving the rock his all, Kai did enough on his part to be suddenly be blasted by a golden light, shining from the cavern behind the rock. As his eyes got used to the sudden brightness, Kai spotted the Golden Scythe, sitting on top of a weird creature’s head.

“Woah, that is SO COOL!” Jay exclaimed, and his voice reverberated throughout the entire cave. Kai cringed from his volume. Here’s to hoping that the entire skeleton army outside won’t discover them. Cole shushed Jay again, before pulling out the Golden Scythe and jumping back down onto the cave floor. Wrapping it in a sheet of canvas, Cole once again reminded Jay to not be so loud.

“Oh, don’t be paranoid!” Jay brushed off the sentiment. Kai couldn’t believe that this guy was his teammate. “We’re totally on the other side of the caves!”

“Zip it, okay?” Cole admonished the blue Ninja whilst handing the wrapped Scythe of Quakes to Kai. It’s okay with him. As long as he can make sure that this weapon is safe which in turn ensures that Nya is safe, he’s alright with taking the Scythe. “Now that we’ve got the Scythe, let’s sneak out whilst the boneheads are still busy.”

“Alright team, everyone sticks together. Way out is right around the corn-“ Cole suddenly came face to face with Samukai. All Kai could think at that moment was Fuck the blue guy. Because seriously. Now he was going to have to fight these guys. And alright, honestly- Kai was more than happy to throw hands with the skeletons that captured his sister. In fact, he’s been waiting all week to do so. But come on, this guy was supposed to be a ninja? Pulling out his sword, Kai stayed in the middle of his teammates for a bit as they tried their hardest to protect the Scythe, but quickly they were drawn by enemies elsewhere and the red ninja was left in a precarious situation.

“Kai! Throw it here!” Thank god for Zane. Honestly, he took back what he said about how this guy takes things a bit too seriously, now that he was in the heat of battle and could feel every beat of his heart. Kai heaved the heavy weapon to Zane. Immediately, the heat was taken off him and Zane had to pass the Scythe to Cole as he was dog-piled by 3 Skulkin in seconds. Cole made it past a long line of skeletons before catching the Golden Weapon, but Kai could see 5 to 6. no, 9, 10- argh, who cares! Either way, there were too many enemies.

“Let me handle it!” Jay shouted, taking out a couple of enemies quickly, before exclaiming, “Hey! Guys!”

“It’s just like the training course! Over the planks, dodge the swords- here comes the dummy!”

Kai heard multiple enemies being defeated before a bright blue light shined through the caverns as this guy did spinjitzu. What. The. Heck. Kai’s level of respect for him instantly rose.

“Jay! What’s the key?” Kai waved at his teammate desperately. He had to do spinjitzu too- if he ever was going to see Nya again.

“Hehe, I’m just going through the motions! This is what Sensei must have meant when he said we already know it!” Jay laughed from inside his tornado as Kai watch him take down 4 enemies in one second. Kai contemplated this for a moment, before relying on his muscle memory to dodge a couple of Skulkin.

“Over the planks, dodge the swords- here comes the dummy!” Spinning in a beautiful vortex of red, orange, and yellow, Kai saw the world around him slow down as he moved with enhanced power and agility, taking down enemies with incredible ease.

“RETREAT!” Samurai shouted, and Kai could hear the screams of the skeleton army mixing with the beautiful chime of his team’s spinjitzu. Slowing down, Kai stopped his spinjitzu and surprisingly, didn’t feel dizzy. Man, this spinjitzu thing is really cool.

“Hah! Guess they didn’t want a second serving of these babies,” Cole flexed his biceps as Kai and Jay both shook their heads in dismay. “Good thing they didn’t check out the merchandise on the back!”

From the corner of his eye, Kai watched as Cole turned around to emphasise his point. Alright, 2 can play at the end game. Raising the Golden Weapon of Spinjitsu, Kai cheered and high fives Jay. That dude has many faults, but he would be able to have Kai’s back in a moment of need, and Kai vows to watch his back too.

“Uh… guys?” Cole stammered. Kai and Jay rolled their eyes. What was Cole trying to get at now?

“Didn’t Sensei say there was a guardian protecting the weapons?” Zane recalled. Kai tilted his head to the side, before turning to his right AND WHAT IN THE WORLD IS THAT.

“Is that- a..a, that’s- not what I think it is, isit?” Cole blubbered, his voice an octave higher.

“Y-you mean a dragon?” Jay stammered.

“Uh, that sure looks like a dragon!” Kai panicked, his voice on the edge of a scream.

“I sense that we won’t be able to spin our way out of this one,” Zane stated with the calmest out of any of them.

Out of the blue, the dragon breathed out a breath of earth, and Kai was suddenly flung to the side. Screams filled the cavern as his teammates landed from their dodge. getting up on his feet, Kai immediately started to run towards the exit, clutching the Golden Weapon tightly. Unfortunately, they were cornered, and Kai did the only thing he thought he could.

Removing the canvas, Kai moved to use the weapon but was stopped by Jay, stating something about how Sensei told them not to.

“Well you better keep your mouth shut,” Kai growled as he ran towards the otherworldly creature. Nothing was going to stand in his way from reaching his sister. Cole shouted something at him, but he raised the weapon high above his head and brought it down to the earth in front of the dragon, causing a split in the ground like a fault line and the cave started to shake. The dragon was temporarily rendered stunned as a large piece of rock fell on his head. It reacted too late, for Kai and his team were getting out of here.

“We gotta escape!” Kai said frantically. Looking up, he and his team saw the caverns opening up to the skies. “We’ll use spinjitzu!” Cole proclaimed, and Kai spun into his tornado, finding that the boost in speed and strength was exactly what he needed to make through the opening in the ceiling of the cave.

Landing on the ground in front of his sensei (on both feet, take that Zane and Jay!) Kai immediately devolved into cheering and celebrating with his teammates, because who wouldn’t after such an adrenaline high? They were 1 weapon closer to finding Nya, and Kai had learned the amazing art of Spinjitsu, and he had just escaped from a dragon.

“ENOUGH!” Sensei Wu shouted. Kai immediately felt his mood sinking. “I told you not to use the scythe!!” Of course, Jay, then Cole, immediately threw Kai under the bus.

“Using it was my only option!” Kai said, starting to get frustrated with his teacher and teammates. Couldn’t they see it that was a matter of life or death? He just saved all of their sorry asses!

“And what makes you think that you’re more important than your team? Huh? Huh!?” Wu got closer to Kai’s face, and he was not happy. Not happy with this at all.

“They took my sister, remember?” Kai stated angrily. Who did the old man think he was? Nya was everything to him, and losing her- Kai did not want to think about losing her.

“There are still 3 weapons left. Maybe next time, you can do it right,” Wu admonished him, and Kai could only watch as his teammates follow in their master’s footsteps. Whatever. It’s not like he needed a team. Hoisting the scythe onto his shoulders, Kai swore that nothing, not even the First Spinjitsu himself, would stop him from saving Nya.

Over the course of the next few days, Kai learned of a technique called the ‘Tornado of Creation’ as they journeyed all over north Ninjago and found 2 of the remaining 3 weapons. Just before they headed to the Fire Temple, Wu made them all rest, for some reason he was unwiring to share. Kai privately thought that it was for them to recuperate their energy because his sister was going to be the one they rescue next, and once he got his hands on the Sword of Fire, nothing would be able to stand in his way, his team included. If he was being honest with himself, Kai was grateful that they had time to celebrate his past achievements. They had been through so much climbing, exploring, and journeying these fast few days and they have beaten Garmadon’s Army too many times to not do something about it. His mood was so great that he even invited Sensei Wu to dance with them as Cole played the bongo drums that they had stolen from the skeleton army at one point.

Kai didn’t know when he fell asleep, but what he did know was that he was roused awake by a voice whispering his name. At first, he was groggy with exhaustion, but the second time Nya called out to him, Kai was wide awake. Looking at the source of the sound, Kai saw his sister standing directly at the edge of his camp. Immediately, Kai felt a great wave of relief wash over him. His sister looked, at least in the dark, fine and free from any visible injuries. He was just about to get up and reunite with his sister when she suddenly stated that she had to go, and started to run away from him.

Kai immediately shot to his feet, alarmed. There was definitely something wrong. He followed her as best as he could through the dense forest, calling out to her, but not receiving a reply. He was led to a temple sitting right next to a volcano. Ghostly whispers of his name reached him as he saw his sister’s vague figure entering the temple.

“Nya?” In a heartbeat, he arrived at the front of the temple. Fully pushing open the doors, Kai was blown away by the cavern and the inviting, welcoming warmth of the lava that slowly cranked up the further he went. In fact, it was slowly stifling, and Kai wanted to grab Nya and get out as fast as he could. Looking all over the place for her, Kai saw the image of his sister appear right in front of the Sword of Fire.

“Nya!” Kai said with a smile, running towards the platform. He was praising FSM for this miracle when suddenly, he skidded to a halt as Nya transformed into a large shadow that laughed menacingly. It was Garmadon. And he- was dangling Nya, wrapped in iron chains, on top of a pool of lava.

“KAI!!” Nya shouted desperately. The red ninja called back to his sister, as Garmadon taunted him, stating that only by removing the sword, could he save his sister. And as much as Kai hated the fact- Garmadon was right. There was nothing he could do but take the sword and save his sister. Nya begged Kai not to listen, but the chain had suddenly lowered her even more, and the screams of his baby sister were too much for Kai to bear. Taking a deep breath, Kai did a series of acrobatics pulling out the Sword of Fire and doing spinjitzu on the walls in order to get to Nya, and then to get her to safety on the other side. Landing o the warm rock, Kai pulled his sister up and told her to stay close.

Then Garmadon appeared directly in front of him, and Kai changed his mind. Not long after, he was getting beat up by a shadow- a shadow of all things! Then, Garmadon played extremely dirty and duplicated himself, and in no time at all, Kai lost the sword and Garmadon picked it up. Tired, out of breath, and running on a combined 18 hours of sleep this past week and a half, Kai collapsed and couldn’t move any further.

Just in time, Sensei Wu arrived and started to use his shadow to properly fight Garmadon. As Kai could only sit and watch, he saw Sensei Wu’s incredible usage of shadows, and his respect for him rose even more. But soon, the feeling of calmness turned into panic as he remembered his 3 teammates who were probably out like a light.

Nya gave Kai a hand to stand up, and they both moved to be closer to Wu. Soon, they were assaulted by Garmadon showing them that the Skulkin has taken Kai’s brothers and 3 of the 4 Golden Weapons.

“My brother must not unite the 4 weapons. We must keep them apart!” Sensei Wu commanded, to which Garmadon responded by rousing the dragon guardian. With a swipe of its flaming hot tail, the Fire Dragon blocked the entrance of the Fire Temple. There was no way out.

“He’s taken away all our options!” Kai said, starting to panic even more as the Fire Dragon breathed on them.

“All but one.” And soon, Kai lost his Sensei to the Underworld. Feeling terribly guilty for not being a better student and teammate, Kai collapsed on his knees. However, he was soon confronted with greater, immediate danger.

Luckily, he seemed to be able to talk down the dragon that was guarding the sword. They reached an understanding that they were trying to protect the weapons from Garmadon, and just in time too. He heard his teammates outside the temple and Flare did too, opening the temple dramatically. Too soon, he had to split from Nya again. But he would return in no time at all, with all members on his team.

Through a great load of traveling by dragon, managing to use the Tornado of Creation, and watching Samurai get vaporised whilst Garmadon passed into a portal to another realm, they eventually returned to Ignacia, and Kai could finally feel safe again. Of course, he immediately slept for 3 days straight after making sure that Nya was doing alright and that she could take care of herself for the next few days.

This was not the first time he was fuelled by only his fire, and unfortunately for his body- it would not be the last.

- Lloyd - The next time that Kai could say with 100% certainty that he hated the universe was when Garmadon decided that it was a good idea to turn them into all children. They then had to be saved by Lloyd, his baby brother, but in return- he had grown. Too fast. Way too fast.

And Kai had to look at his failure, his inability to protect Lloyd because it falls on his shoulder to at least stay beside the green bean whilst he deals with the fact that he was older now. And whatever fallout was happening with his body. Because whilst Lloyd can try to insist that he’s fine for the 100th time, Kai is not letting him get out of bed whilst he has a 40 degree fever.

So whilst Kai stews angrily at the edge of Lloyd’s bed, he reflects on all the things he’s going to punch the First Spinjitsu Master for. Honestly, he did not know where the thought came from, but today was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

Kai will be honest- he hadn’t always been this friendly with Lloyd. In fact, if he saw someone else doing what he did to the kid when they first met, he would sock them in the eye, no questions asked. (In fact, he wanted to do that to himself now.) But then he got close to the brat. He saw himself in the kid, just- lost without an anchor as Kai had in Nya. And the ‘demon spawn’ became ‘kid’, and ‘kid’ became Kai’s baby brother. Kai’s baby brother who he lost at the arcade just because he was too focused on his ego, going after the damned Samurai who turned out to be his baby sister. Seems like Kai can’t do much protecting at all.

After Kai had rescued Lloyd from the volcano (Fuck you Pythor), it was revealed that Lloyd was the Green Ninja, and would, in turn, have to fight Garmadon And whilst at first Kai felt elated that the search for the Green Ninja was long over, he then felt horrible to see Garmadon and Lloyd falling out as both knew that they had to fight each other. Kai could see Lloyd’s lip tremble as his father released the hug, and almost start to cry when Garmadon disappeared after having saved the Ninja and the fang blades.

He knew that Lloyd had it especially hard, seeking his father’s approval and attention, yet not getting it as Garmadon tried his hardest to delay the oncoming final battle, but furthered it instead. He saw Lloyd look incredibly small in their tiny apartment, and wished that he had just earned more money, or that he had somehow managed to defeat the Great devourer instead of Garmadon.

Yet all he could do was comfort Lloyd when he opens up about Darkley’s (boy, wasn’t that’s something they’d have to unpack in the future) before they returned to the accursed school, or treat Lloyd’s sore muscles before the kid has to inevitably wake up at 5 AM tomorrow to do an insane amount of training.

He hates how all the pressure in the world is hoisted by the shoulders of his baby brother, and he would do anything, anything to give Lloyd a good childhood.

Now, he can’t even do that. Unless the element of time exists, all he could do was count the numbers of a good childhood Lloyd had on one hand. And goddamnit. All Kai really wanted to do was to give Lloyd the childhood didn’t have, not the incomplete one he had given Nya that ended with a kidnapping. Was that too much to ask for?

A drop of a hot tear escaped Kai’s eyes and rolled down his cheek. Quickly snapping his head towards Lloyd, he saw that he’s fallen asleep. Okay, thank FSM for that. Kai did not want Lloyd to see his big brother cry. Now, Kai didn’t want to be a bad brother. But he wasn’t Lloyd’s only family left. He’ll just ask Zane to watch over him as he runs the training course at Dareth’s dojo.

Or maybe not, Kai thought as he sat on the roof, hidden by water tanks and billboards as he had a meltdown. He didn’t even know why he was crying! All he knows is that suddenly, he can’t stop the water flowing from his eyes, even as his own body heat evaporates them as soon as they are shed. His head was still stuffy even though the night air breezed past him. All he wanted to do was to shout, screen- anything to release the tension he’s been building up in his body. Now that he’s reached his breaking point, he was ready to release like a coiled spring.

But he couldn’t. They were living in the midst of Ninjago city, not on the Destiny’s Bounty. And they would get kicked out of their cramped apartment if Kai just shouted at the night skies. So Kai hissed, growled, and wrapped his hands around himself, and squeezed as much as he could. He wanted to fight anybody, be it serpentine, skulkin, Garmadon, or even the First Spinjitsu Master himself.

The air around him got even more suffocating as his fist couldn’t find anything to connect to.

And suddenly, the roof hatch opened suddenly, scaring the living hell out of Kai Smith. Jumping into action and getting into a ready stance, Kai immediately felt the tension dissipate as it revealed that it was just Cole.

“Wow Kai, you must be really wounded up to be spooked like that,” Cole commented whilst giving Kai a smirk. Kai glared back at his team leader before futilely trying to wipe his face clean. Ah well. He tried. Cole snorted. “I always knew that you were a big softy.”

“Got any reason why you came up here?” Kai grunted. His ego had taken enough bruising these past few weeks.

“Of course buddy. I needed to spar with someone at full strength, and since Zane is looking after Lloyd and Jay won’t be able to effectively take my hits, I had to find you.”

“Psh, whatever. You’re in luck that I need to let off some heat too,” Kai shrugged off.

“Cool. Race you to Dareth’s Dojo?”  “You’re on.”

In a few minutes, Kai would come to regret his decision. Hey, it wasn’t his idea to race with the idiot who got himself dehydrated via crying. Still, falling in only just a step behind Cole (It’s been 80 years, Coke joked), he grabbed the energy drink Cole held out to him and take an unprofessionally huge gulp. Man, was he going to feel that later. Still, a promise was a promise, even if it was a verbal agreement. He watched Cole do his warm-up stretches before settling into his own normal routine.

Too soon, they rolled out the sparring mats, and Kai had a fleeting feeling of vertigo. Why had he agreed to this again? Oh yeah. Lloyd’s life is shit, and I can’t do anything. Balling his fists tightly, he started to bounce from on the balls of his feet.

Too soon, he ended up on the mat. And then again. And again. When he was defeated for the 4th time, Cole called for a break and sat down next to Kai, who was lying on the mat and just staring straight into the sky.

“Why did destiny make him grow up so fast?” Kai’s voice was trembling too hard for even Cole’s liking. “It’s not your fault-“

“IT IS MY FAULT! My fault, that I couldn’t protect him! Not from the serpentine, not from Garmadon, not from destiny!What’s my worth as a protector if I can’t even defend the one destiny said I must?!” Kai wailed out, enraged with everything. After his anger outburst, Kai breathed out deeply as his whole body sagged, the tension broken. They sat in silence as Kai contemplated what he was going to do next.

“You know Kai? Maybe you should talk with the Green Bean about this. But just so you know, no one is blaming you for what Garmadon had to do, and in turn what Lloyd had to do in order to save all of us,” Cole responded and stood up. “Thank you anyways for agreeing to spar with me.”

He offered a hand, to which Kai grabbed and was pulled upright.

“You go ahead. I’ll go wipe down the mats here,” Cole stated. It was a regular schedule that they had made up in order to reduce the amount of traffic using their tiny bathroom, and Kai gratefully accepted the chance to go first. If he was going to talk to Lloyd, he had to at least get his spikes up to regular Kai standard.

After doing the bare minimum amount of cool-down stretches, Kai took a swig of the energy drink as he jogged back home. After showering and gelling up his hair, Kai was ready to sit down with Lloyd and just- talk. He finished his bottle and prepared some sandwiches as the sun rose on Ninjago City, showering the apartment in fragmented light.

Just on time, Lloyd returned from his morning run, this time accompanied by Zane. Kai patiently waited for him to be done with his shower before Lloyd sat down right beside him and took out a peanut butter and jam sandwich from the small pile on the plate. Zane gave Kai an acknowledging nod as he went to grab his work bag before going back out the door.

“Hey, bud. How’re you doing?” Kai started tentatively. Lloyd, having just taken a huge bite of the pb&j, looked mildly alarmed at the confrontation, but still answered after finishing the bite.

“…honestly Kai? My bones don’t feel on fire anymore and Zane has said that my fever had gone down through the night. Still, I don’t regret what I had done,” Lloyd responded earnestly before taking another bite of the bread. If Kai didn’tknow better he would have thought that the kid had faced starvation before, because he was still eating as if the food could be taken away at any moment. Keyword: thought.

Kai really wanted to continue the talk after Lloyd had his fill, but knew that Lloyd’s busy schedule didn’t allow for such talks. So, he pushed down all the instincts that screamed that he was a bad brother and gritted his teeth.

“I know that that wasn’t your choice-“

“It was my choice!” Lloyd cut in even though he was still chewing. Gulping down another mouthful of food, Lloyd continued. “… because if I couldn’t even consider that my choice, how much of my life can I say that belongs to me?”

Kai was stunned into silence. In his mind, he didn’t think that Lloyd had thought of throwing the tea like that. He wondered how much Lloyd had been holding in inside of him, how much he had to endure being told by people that he hadn’t had a choice. Thinking back to the time where he couldn’t save Nya without listening to others on what he had to do, Kai felt even worse. Cole was right- he wasn’t at fault for this specific action that Lloyd did, but he was at fault for not being understanding enough, or even approachable enough.

Taking advantage of Kai’s speechlessness, Lloyd finished up his sandwich before reaching into the pile and taking out another, this time picking out a Nutella and cheese combination.

“It’s not just that. Now, I can finally go on missions with you guys. Now, you guys don’t have to hold back on me, and I can train for longer amounts of time. The Final Battle will be on us whether we’re ready or not, and I too would feel much safer if I am prepared to… to face my father,” Lloyd said before continuing to stuff his face with breakfast.

Kai’s brain began to work again, and he formulated a good enough response. “…Alright buddy, but just so you know, you’re still not going on missions with us.” Lloyd’s face immediately formed a pout and Kai grinned, rubbing his blonde hair. “Also, since when did you start speaking like that? ‘The Final Battle will be on us whether we’re ready or not.' Wow, such language. Much eloquence.”

“That’s because you guys gave me 2 hours to spend studying Uncle Wu’s books every day,” Lloyd huffed in annoyance, having finished another mouthful of bread. “But seriously Kai, please don’t be angry for me. It really isn’t your fault.”

Kai mused over those words as he watched Jay trained Lloyd with his acrobatic abilities. Of course, the kid was still getting used to his taller and larger limbs, but Kai could see him improve at an incredibly fast rate. Lloyd was right, in a sense. He didn’t really have the legal right to worry over Lloyd’s physical and mental wellness, but still- he was Kai. Master of Fire, protector of the Green Ninja, and he should be allowed to feel the fuel of his anger at any time he so pleases. If it happens to be an injustice to his trainee and well- who can blame him?

He accidentally fell asleep during Lloyd and Jay’s training, having to catch up to last night’s lost sleep, and boy was that a bad idea. He forgot one of the most important rules within the Ninja’s family: Do not fall asleep when with Lloyd and Jay, because those two can pull some terrible pranks.

Kai didn’t notice anything wrong until he passed Dareth’s trophies and saw that his beautiful hair was not spiked. Kai swore that when he sees those two again, he would chase after them until they begged for mercy because Kai cannot be seen in public with hair like this! Feeling his eye twitch, Kai wondered if Lloyd was going to be the cause of him popping a blood vessel.

Years later, Kai would realise that indeed, Lloyd would give him his first grey hair at 19. That damned brat.

- Zane - When Zane… left the team, all Kai could feel was a sense of numbness. He floated through a fuzzy reality as nothing seemed real to him anymore. His family was in shambles, broken pieces that were scattered without their missing piece completing them. The fact that Zane was gone didn’t really register to him until they had asked Lloyd to do a speech honouring the titanium ninja. Lloyd, face as pale as the gi Zane used to wear, couldn’t say any words, so he volunteered to step up for his brother. Lloyd looked at him with thanks, before disappearing off to whatever world he was in just moments before. Kai joined him, staring aimlessly at their ceiling, before having to get up and pen down words that he was going to say, to honour Zane.

He realised that he couldn’t, really couldn’t. The words just wouldn’t come out of his ink pen, even though he was pretty much literate now. He could only manage to jot down a few words that summarised what Zane was to him. A brother. A teammate. A fellow Ninja. Built to protect those who cannot protect themselves. But words can't do Zane justice. How could he capture Zane's cool-like grace, his calm calculation when it matters most? Zane's amazing cooking, his incredible kindness, and all-around sweet nature? How could he describe his first time meeting him, first time working with him, when he discovered his true potential and saved all of their sorry asses? How could he do all that?

Hot, angry tears dribbled down from Kai’s eyes as he hunched over their kitchen table. No, this wasn’t going to do. Kai decides that he'll just have to wing it.

As soon as he had finished his speech and paid proper respect to Zane, Kai left his family and just wandered around aimlessly, going from bar to bar to drink and inevitably get into fights.

Having been thrown out of almost all bars in Ninjago city for ‘disrupting common services’, whatever that was supposed to mean, Kai soon found himself standing in front of Yang’s Tavern. From what he heard, this place was run by quite a few Serpentine and they had a ‘Slither Pit’. Whatever that meant. What Kai needed to do was to feel his fist connect to something flesh-like, and he will be okay.

Months passed, as Kai found himself falling deeper and deeper into Ninjago’s criminal organisations. Under the name ‘The Red Shogun’, he would remain the undefeated champion, all whilst working for different kinds of bosses as ‘security’. Kai knew that he shouldn’t be doing this, that he shouldn’t be helping criminals get away with their criminal activity, shouldn’t have let human merchandise go under his nose. But he couldn’t bring himself to care. Nothing really mattered after Zane’s death. Nothing had mattered at all. Kai was stuck down in the pits of hell, drinking himself to half-death before the barkeep regulated his intake just so that he could bring in the cash that Kai made through betting, before receiving poor attempts to reach out by Lloyd.

Somehow, the kid had gotten the number of his burner phone. He even sent mail to the bar, to which Kai and his bar buddies had laughed at. Kai didn’t feel too bad for ignoring the kid. Zane’s death was partially his fault anyways. (Nromal Kai would have been horrified to hear him think this.) Kai was angry. Angry that Lloyd didn’t try hard enough. Didn’t try hard enough to defeat the Overlord, when he had a clear shot. Angry that Lloyd had apparently failed to defeat the Overlord 100%. Angry that he had been captured whilst literally wielding the power of God, only for the Overlord to use its incredible power to construct a new body. Angry that Lloyd didn’t try hard enough to keep the team together, to reach out to him, or even to speak at Zane’s funeral.

But above all, Kai was angry at himself. Angry that he had made fun of Zane for his passions and clothes. Angry that he did not try hard enough to train Lloyd, and ultimately failed to be with him in the ‘Final’ battle. Angry that he couldn’t have done his job as a ninja properly, getting captured and tied to a rocket ship which only made them have to try rescuing him instead of stopping Project Arcturus. Angry that he couldn’t do anything when Zane took on the Overlord by himself again.

And Kai was angry at Ninjago. At the world. At the universe. At the First Spinjitsu Master, who had no right to decide that his family had to face the world like that. Angry, and wondering why he was being put through this kind of torture: not being able to live, and yet not willing to die. Kai was a man of action and he had to stay in motion- so his knuckles split. So he goes ‘home’, to the hotel room in Yang’s Tavern, covered in bruises and sometimes even blood- just not his. So he has to take part in crimes, never rising above the level of a security guard, all whilst feeling terrible. He did not know how to get out of this state and feared that if he did, he would collapse into a lump of uselessness.

He fought all day and night, and in the moments where he wasn’t fighting, he was drinking. His sleeping schedule has shifted to between 6 AM and 2 PM. All whilst he kept grieving over a death that was not deserved.

After a year, Lloyd somehow inexplicably showed up on his doorstep, telling Kai to not drink too much ‘juice’ (he rolled his eyes at that and smiled fondly at Lloyd’s innocence) and asked him to show up at Chen’s noodle house where he was holding a meeting with his other teammates.

Unexpectedly, this led to a discovery that instantly brightened Kai’s mood before dampening it slightly. Zane was alive! But they had to fight through… an elemental tournament to get him? At this point in time, Kai was alright with doing anything, anything to get Zane back.

Just 2 weeks later, Kai would hesitantly retract his statement. Sure, they had gotten Zane back, but in exchange, Lloyd had to lose Garmadon to the Cursed Realm. Kai wonders if they’ll ever be able to make it through a fight with everyone intact, but today wasn’t about him. He felt a familiar spark of rage burning brightly through his chest as he watched Lloyd trying and failing to smile. From the corner of his eye, he saw Zane approaching him.

“Kai, can we talk for a moment?” Oh, dear. What is this about now? Was it about how Kai had almost killed their baby brother over a stupid staff?  Or the fact that Kai had very stupidly fallen for the Criminal Mastermind’s daughter? Did Zane find out about his criminal activity?

Well, it wasn’t everything that Kai had thought would happen, although the topic had come stupidly close to the last point. Zane confronted him, making him open up about his ‘feelings’ or whatever, before telling Kai that the alcohol content in his body was too high and that his livers were on the edge of failing. Well. Good to know that Zane is still regular old Zane who’d scan you without permission.

“Kai, all I’m saying is that you are free to tell me anything. To just let it all out -“

“I can’t let it all out!” Kai shouted in annoyance. What did Zane know about grieving- Oh wait. Doctor Julien. Well, what did Zane know about Kai’s specific method of dealing with his issues? He was fine.

“Why not, Kai?” Zane asked with a bittersweet smile. Kai looked around, desperately searching for an answer that he doesn’t have.

“Well- I can’t tell you that! Just know that it’s okay for me to feel angry!” Kai stated very, very eloquently. Zane just gave him a look that said ‘bullshit’. “It’s also okay for you to be sad, and to cry.”

“You’re-you’re wrong!”

“And you’re a hypocrite, Kai. You can’t make Lloyd do the right choices if you aren’t gonna do them yourself.”

“Well- Lloyd’s just a child! A teenager at best, really. Me? I’m a fully legal adult! I can make my own decisions!” Kai seethed. Zane looked sad for a moment, before straightening up and doubling down.

“Whilst according to Mill’s Harm Principle, you’re free to do anything that could harm yourself without damaging others, might I remind you that you’re still a role model for Lloyd, Nya, and even Jay? Please, Kai. If you can’t do it for yourself, at least do it for them.” Zane pleaded. And damn it. Whilst Kai wouldn’t lift a finger to save himself, just the thought of Lloyd doing what he’s done sent a shiver down his spine. Zane was right, as always. He had to be the big brother, and being the older brother means that he has to display healthy habits more. FSM knows that Lloyd would need it. So he sucked up his pride, arrogance, and ego, then threw it all away, metaphorically off the Bounty

He knew that they would always come creeping back to him later, but for now, Lloyd needed a functional older brother, and Kai was going to be exactly what he needs.

“Thank you, Zane,” Kai stated. Grinning, Zane waved Kai on to go save Lloyd, who now looked like he was drowning from some invisible force.

“Lloyd? Lloyd buddy, you there?”

- Cole - Of course, Kai couldn’t stop his blood pressure from reaching a boiling point. How could he? This month had been the worst month for his health since- well, since forever! Who would’ve thought that Wu’s dead first student would escape the Cursed Realm just to possess Lloyd in order to exact an act of stupid, grand revenge because he didn’t get the title of the Green Ninja?

Kai had to fight his baby brother, lose the staff of the First Spinjitsu Master, fail to defeat ghosts, bargain with a stupidcrook for some weapons that were actually effective to ghosts all whilst looking for the scroll of Airjitzu, who guess what? Turns out Ronin had it all along. And he had just handed it to Morro, which caused all of them to go to this cursedtemple, which was designed to be a terribly haunted house, because it just amplified Kai’s fear of water a 100 times more, and all that culminated in a stupid idea where they tied themselves together to not lose track of the other, which caused Cole to lose valuable time when the scroll of Airjitzu was dropped right as they were at the door to the temple.

Spinning around to check on his teammates, he saw a pale green sheen. Just as he was about to raise his weapon, he heard Cole’s voice calling out to them that they had the scroll. And oh. Oh no. No, Kai couldn’t deal with this anymore. He watched Cole realise with horror that now, he was technically dead, and wail.

Kai’s blood vessels were very, very close to popping. Being an alcoholic had not helped with his anger issues, and having faced too many setbacks, all whilst not having any powers or any victories, Kai was prepared to curse the entire 16 realms.

As Nya parked the bounty right next to the floating temple of Airjitzu, Kai could see her face widen in shock and horror at Cole. Fists clenched the tightest they had been in a while (and that was saying something, given that he had failed to protect Lloyd again) Kai could only take over the lead as he herded his teammates onboard the ship.

Cole’s a ghost now. So what? He can deal with that later. For now, they had to beat Morro to the Cloud Kingdom and the Realm crystal if he was going to have any chance of having Lloyd back.

Well, that was a lie, Kai thought to himself after the heat of the moment. Their ship was now charted towards the Wailing Alps, trying to make it as the Blind Man’s Eye passed over the top so that they may use Airjitzu to get the Sword of Sanctuary. And that meant they had time. Whilst Zane and Jay were working on some mechs to help them traverse the mountains, Nya was training with Sensei Wu to unlock her true potential faster, and Misako was packing them supplies. That meant that Kai and Cole were left in the bow of the ship. The air just felt denser than usual, even though by all logic, it should have been lighter due to their high altitude.

Kai watched Cole trying to tap a button on the control board, but couldn’t manage to get his hands to temporarily appear solid. He saw the frustration on Cole’s face grow as he gave up and slammed his hand on the board, accidentally touching on several buttons. Immediately the ship started to list onto the left side. So bracing himself Kai rushed to the position and immediately undid the damage Cole had done.

Cole then let out a scream of frustration. “All I wanted to do was to view the stupid GPS! Why. Can’t. I. Do. Anything. Right?” Cole angrily shouted, punctuating each word with a kick aimed towards the control panel, but never managing to connect. He immediately sunk onto the floor and held his face in his hands.

Kai sucked in air through his teeth. He wasn’t everyone’s go-to when comforting them from anger, but it seems that he had to step up this time.

“Hey, Cole?” Kai started gently. “Yeah?” Came a muffled response.

“I know that I’m not the best person to do this, but I just want you to know that I hate the universe as much as you do, and it’s alright if you wanna just shout and spar with me-“

“Hah! As if I can do anything good with this. Stupid. Body!” Cole replied, voice tense with frustration. Kai frowned.

“I’m serious Cole. And you will get better at using this body. Remember how Morro’s ghost friends had beaten us? Imagine them, not realising that we actually have a pretty powerful member right in their midst. Think of the recon missions you can do as a ghost! Imagine how satisfying it would be to just punch Morro in the nose without feeling bad for hurting Lloyd!” Kai picked a direction and resigned himself to it, smile getting more manic as he realised that hey! Cole’s new body is actually kinda cool. Cole snorted.

“Imagine all the pranks I’ll be able to pull on Jay. And imagine me possessing Mr. Cuddlywump-“ Both of them dissolved into laughter after this thought, each imagining Jay’s terrified expression as Cole’s voice comes out of the teddy bear that he thinks nobody knows he hugs every night.

“Hey- you know that being a ghost would be incredible for your stealth right?” Kai ribbed Cole gently, finding delight that it actually connected. Cole scoffed. “Oh, don’t remind me Mr-I-blew-up-2-trucks-filled-with-jet-fuel-and-thought-that-I-wouldn’t-be-noticed.”

“Hey! It was just one time.” Kai defended himself. “Seriously though, imagine all the cool shit you can do now.”

“Too bad that I won’t be able to eat anymore,” Cole said mournfully. Kai raised his eyebrow. “Nah, this just means that you can eat as much as you want and wouldn’t be scolded by Sensei Wu. Also, don’t we have Hungry Ghost Month right before Day of the Departed?”

“Holy shit, Kai. You’re right! You know, maybe being a ghost isn’t so bad after all,” Cole said with a hearty grin. With a grin of his own, Kai thought to himself that really, being a ghost is no big deal. We have a nindroid as a brother after all! Besides, at least Cole is still with us in, heh, spirit.

Too late did Kai consider the cons of being a ghost. As Cole watched helplessly from the banks of the river that Lloyd was drowning in, Kai had to bite his own tongue to stop himself from screaming as he plunged into the water to save Lloyd from drowning. Too late, after the defeat of the Preeminent, did he see Lloyd flinching from Cole’s touch, which led to a very heartbroken Cole and an extremely apologetic Lloyd. He saw Lloyd trying his best to just endure and adapt to the change, and his heart was filled with anger again.

It wasn’t as bad as his breaking point at Yang’s temple, but he now has a grudge against Morro that runs through the core of his being, like how ‘Nya is my Sister’ and ‘Lloyd is my baby brother’ are the code of his being. Still, victory tasted bittersweet as he gets to finally pat the golden head of hair his brother has.

Kai would be okay to go through anything, as long as he had his family with him.

- - Jay - Family. That’s what Kai’s life has circled back into, hasn’t it? He had fought skeleton armies for his sisters, fought snakes with his brothers, trained the youngest to fight the literal embodiment of evil, went through an entire tournament for one of his brothers, fought with Wu’s student to save Lloyd, and now destiny decides for him to face another whiplash.

His parents. His good-for-nothing parents. They had left Kai when he was 6 and Nya when she was just 3. It had been absolute hell, making sure that they had enough to eat, enough to drink, and enough to wear during the winter. Kai had to start working at the blacksmith shop when he was just 8, trying to find some independence from the goodwill of his neighbours. And whilst he was working odd jobs, being a stable boy, an errand boy, doing some house chores for the minimum wage- he also had to make sure that his baby sister could attend school properly.

He had properly started to work at the forge when he was 12, having sold most of his father’s previous work. Soon, he found ease in making spear tips, armour, and samurai-style helmets. He had been working on doing a good sword when his sister was kidnapped, and his entire life changed as he tried his hardest to bring her back. Since then, he hadn’t gone back to his old home in Ignacia.

But he couldn’t ignore it anymore.

Looking at the smithing symbol on the inside of the Vermillion Warrior’s helmet, Kai had to take a quick journey back to his old home, back into his past. Picking up a decade-old helmet, Kai’s worst fears were confirmed.

“I knew it,” Kai said humourlessly as the puzzle pieces began to construct a monstrosity that he never wanted to know. In a fit of anger, he punched his father’s symbol, to which a secret hatch just suddenly opened. Curious, Kai took a look at the basement of the shop, only to see a double-edged blade as well as some old armour. What was he making? Kai wondered, before shaking his head. It doesn’t matter now.

With single-minded determination, Kai took the blade, old, and a new helmet, then immediately headed to someone who he knows would understand.

10 minutes later, Kai was sitting at a booth in Chen’s Noodle House, venting out all his frustrations to Skylor, who, bless her, had offered him free noodles as he spilled out his feelings. Of course, Kai didn’t feel much better after doing so, but at least he felt like he wasn’t suffocating anymore. Just as Kai was summarising his rant, incomes Nya, proclaiming something about how Skylor was the mysterious and new Samurai X. Kai’s stomach suddenly started to churn and he gulped. He had to break the news that their parents were still alive to Nya. And whilst that was mean, what Kai learned throughout his years as being a Ninja that being honest with your teammates was the difference between life and death. Funny, he remembered a weird dream that was focused on this exact point. But Kai didn’t have time to reminisce now. All he could do was think of ways of breaking the news to Nya.

Too soon, Kai Smith, no not Smith, Kai had to think of a better surname after this was all over. Anyways, their team has decided upon infiltrating Krux and Acronix’s secret base, which also meant that they will find his traitorous father. Instantly, he felt a searing hot pain radiate from within his ribcage. teeth clenched, fists tightened, he and Nya arrived at the swamp.

He had a single-minded focus on finding his parents and nothing could stop him.

“Kai, I don’t see anything. Give me the map,” Nya whispered. “Hmmm, what even makes you think that Acronix and Krux will be around here?”

“I honestly don’t even care if they are,” Kai said noncommittally and looked around his surroundings. In the distance, he saw a building, right where the blacksmith shop was situated on the map. Heart pounding, he raced up the planks leading up the shop.

Kai was in too deep to stop now, to have second thoughts. Seeing his father’s blacksmith symbol on the door, builds up his resolve to kick the door open.

“I knew it!” anger, like how lava flows down a volcano, seeped into his bones as his father stared at him like he was some kind of stranger. In all fairness, he was. Because what kind of ‘father’ was Ray Smith for abandoning Nya, for abandoning him, all those years ago?

“Who are you? What do you want?” Those words cut deeply into Kai’s heart, etching all kinds of feelings that Kai couldn’t process. Because all he could see. Was red.

“I WANT JUSTICE!” With a war cry, Kai drew out the double-edged blade that his father had watched. But this time, he wasn’t fighting to disarm, to defeat, or to stun. He was fighting to kill.

Running towards the blacksmith, Kai jumped to plunge the blade into his father’s chest, only for him to dodge, Raising another strike, he missed and hit the edge of the forge. Spinning around, his next shot was parried by his father.

Blocked by his father again, Kai gave his old man a chance to explain himself. But what was said was, “You’re red like a Vermillion Warrior. But you’re no snake.”

“No, I’m not, BUT YOU ARE! TRAITOR!!” Kai broke out of his father’s block, spinning the weapon before clashing it with his father’s hammer again. His next few strikes were dodged and a kick sent Kai sprawling over the anvil. Getting up again, Kai swung the weapon wildly, getting dodged before being thrown back by a well-timed shot from his father.

“You messed with the wrong blacksmith, my friend,” Ray said, standing over Kai’s body. hearing those words sent a hot shot of seething fire down to his free palm. Building up a fire in his hand, Kai stood up and spun the double-edged blade.

“Fire power…” Ray thought out loud. Shocked, he could only get out of the way as Kai threw a fireball at him.

“No… you’re certainly not a guard. You’re… my son!” Hearing those words made Kai pause. He didn’t know why, he just couldn’t move. Too many emotions were battling in him, and he could only focus on his father’s next few words.

“Kai! You’ve inherited my elemental power!” his father had actually said that. In joy. Suddenly, his fire was rekindled.

“That’s the only thing I’ll ever inherit from you!” Kai started to move, to continue the fight when suddenly his baby sister screamed for him to stop from the front door.

“He’s a traitor!” Kai explained through gritted teeth.

“He’s still our father,” Nya begged Kai to reconsider.

“Whatever it is you think, I can explain-“

“Yeah… BET YOU CAN!” Kai threw back his left hand, ready to unleash another fireball at his father when a jet of water put his element out.

“Kai, let him speak!” Nya pleaded. “There’s no harm in hearing him out!”

Kai then moved to throw the double-edged blade at his father, who had dodged out of the way. sensing that Nya would just put out his fire again, Kai pounced on his father and dragged him hip by the collar of his clothes, and began to wrestle with him.

“It ends here! NOW!” Overpowering his father, he managed the wrench his left hand free, and pulled it back into a punch.

“Kai, you don’t know what you’re doing!”  “I DO NYA! I ABSOLUTELY-“  “I’m not your sister, son.”

Kai suddenly stopped. His mother… was alive?!

“Huh? M-mom? I-I don’t believe it!” Kai released whatever he was holding as he turned around, trembling.

“That makes the 2 of us,” Maya stated sweetly, and suddenly all the memories that Kai had been oppressing came back- he could see the woman who cared for him, hear the lullabies she used to sing Nya to sleep, smell the floral shampoo and scent of mountain springs that hung around her. He remembers the taste of the food that she had made, and the warm, slender hands that held his own. As Kai watched his mother fuss over his baby sister, his resolve to fight, to seek revenger, crumbled away into pieces.

Removing his hood, he threw his arms around his mother, still smelling the scent of mountain springs, feeling the her skin, folded and cut in several areas, but still warm and firm.

But suddenly, he remembered the snake helmets and of Sensei Wu, and immediately pushed her back.

“Why, she’s as guilty as he is! They’ve been helping Acronix and Krux for years!” Kai seethed. “They’re the enemy!”

“Is that what you think?” Maya reproached. “We are not your enemy.”

“Then how do you explain this?” Kai took up the vermillion warrior’s helmet and showed his father’s symbol to his biological family. “Dad’s blacksmith stamp on every piece of Vermillion armour!”

“They forced us to work for them! Part of their revenge…” Maya rebutted.

“For what?”

“For creating the time blades,” Ray shook his head and creased his forehead. “It goes back a long tie, then Acronis and Krux were still Elemental Masters.”

Ray recounted how Wu had asked them to forge blades made of a chronosteel, a sort of metal that suctions your elemental powers away permanently if you used them to their true potential on the metal.

“We had worked for days and nights. At the end of it all, we were so exhausted, that we could not participate in the fight. But Wu had told us the results of the fights, about how he and Garmadon had sent the Time Twins and the Time Blades into a Time Vortex, essentially having them lost to time.”

“Yet, immediately after the portal has closed, Krux had gotten away. And he had gotten a glimpse of the Blimp too. He now knew that his brother was being sent to the future without him.”

“Now, he had decades to scheme and plan. He adopted the persona of the kindly Dr. Sanders Saunders. He had begun making the first batches of Vermillion out of the Great Devourer’s eggs. And his army would need weapons. Armour. Vehicles.

“So he went looking for us, and we had built a cordial relation with the old man.”

“One day, he suddenly revealed his true colours and held you two at sword point, stating that if we did not cooperate, he would not hesitate to kill you,” Maya said, eyes glistening with tears. “What could we have done?”

Kai didn’t know how to react. He stood there shell-shocked. His parents.. they weren’t traitors after all? The fire of anger fizzled out. “Okay, but what about the stamp?”

“I stamped every piece of my work, hoping that one day, someone would figure it out,” Kai’s father admitted. “So that together, we can stop Krux and Acronix’s plan.”

“What is their plan?” Nya asked. Ray shook his head and creased his eyebrows in fear. “To control all of time.”

That revelation shocked Kai into speaking again. He looked at his father, bruised, dirtied, and tired from their fight before. The feeling of guilt bubbled in his stomach, and Kai had to immediately right the wrongs.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” Kai began, wincing internally at his bad apology. But Nya- blessed Nya, had saved him by asking about Krux and Acronix’s plan to control all of time.

“They made me design the Iron Doom, a machine capable of transporting the Vermillion warriors through time,” Ray explained, rolling out a blueprint of the iron doom.

“So you built a Time Machine?” Kai asked incredulously. Ray huffed. “No, just the shell. I’m afraid the Time Machines are bit out of my skill set.”

“But Cyrus Borg was forced to design a power source capable of powering the machine by using temporal energy from the Time Blades,” Maya said whilst rolling out another piece of blueprint next to Ray’s this time of some sort of machine.

“Oh no! That must mean that the pause we felt earlier… that must mean that there are 3 blades in the present!” Nya exclaimed. Kai thought out loud that if Krux and Acronix got the blade, there will be only one left. “And if they get that, their time traveling mega armour will be fully operational!”

Kai stared dumbfoundedly at the smile shared between his parents. “Sorry, full operational is… good news?” Man, if his parents could just pick a side already!

“They’ll never get it,” Ray said with a smile. “Master Wu found it shortly after Acronix disappeared. Turns out it had the power to reverse time. Wu knew it was too dangerous to keep, so we hid it, buried deep in a location where only a combined elemental power of Fire and Water can reach.”

“And since you inherited our powers-“ Kai’s mother gasped sharply. “You must leave. Now!”

Ray looked downright alarmed. “You’re right. If Krux and Acronix knew you were here, they could-“

At this moment, the door burst open and time stood still.

“Could force you to retrieve the Time Blade for us? Excellent suggestion,” Krux said with a menacing smile.

“No way! We’ll never retrieve the Reversal Blade for you!”  “You tell him, brother!”

“You will! Or your parents will face the same fate that they tried to protect you from.” Krux countered, his smile stretching impossibly wider.

“We’re done serving you, Krux. Bring your worst!” Ray shouted, charging towards the Time Twins. Kai watched in horror as Krux used the Pause blade to stop his father’s momentum immediately, before giving him a hard kick in the gut.

“DAD!” Kai shouted, watching his father still frozen in place, bouncing on the hard floor.

“Look what I found,” drawled the voice of Commander Machia, wheeling in-

“Master!” “Wu!’

“You know, it occurs to me that the Reversal Blade is the only way to undo Wu’s Time Punch.” Acronix grinned.

“I…I’m afraid that’s true,” Kai’s father said, having gotten out of the pause effect.

“If you want to save your master, you’ll have to retrieve the 4th blade.” Krux walked even closer to Kai, before snatching away the double-edged blade. “And I’ll take that.”

Lightning flashed over the skies, creeping in tendrils and thunder boomed, rocking the ship. Kai and his family were stuck on a ship, not able to help his other family back at the swamp to fight off a whole swamp’s worth of snakes! And to top it all off, he had to retrieve the 4th Time Blade for the Twins, directly enabling Krux and Acronix’s plan!

Kai felt anger in the many hot drops of rain the fell onto his skin. But he couldn’t afford to lose himself here, he and Nya would have to work together, get past all the challenges and get the time blade, save Wu and get out of here!

Yet, once he and Nya had returned to the ship, the blade was immediately knocked out of his hands and his father took another Time Punch. Just as he was about the throw hands with the Time Twins, he was hit with a jet of brilliant red light, trapping him a Pause as he could only see the ship moving away from underneath him. They barely had the time to pull up their fusion dragon before heading back to the swamp.

Upon their arrival, they saw the Time Twins enter a temporal vortex. They had to follow them. There was no other choice.

A long, tiring battle in the past 40 years ago had taken its toll on Kai and Nya. They had managed to reverse the Time Punch on Master Wu (though Kai wonders if maybe Nya used a bit too much) and they had managed to drive Acronix and Krux back into the Temporal Vortex, this time actually sneaking aboard the ship and trying to remove the Time Blades from the engine of the Iron Doom.

Unfortunately for Kai, he just couldn’t lift the Reversal Blade, but Sensei Wu had. Throwing the Time Blade to him, Kai almost didn’t register Wu telling them to use the blade of Ray before throwing both of them out of the time stream and back into the present.

After had used the time blade on his father, Kai and Nya were tasked with Master Lloyd’s command to return the Reversal Blade to its place in the Boiling Sea. Of course, Kai had complied, adrenaline still fuelling his body. And yet when all was said and done, Kai collapsed upon reaching the Temple of Airjitzu.

The days after Kai and Nya returned to the present without Sensei Wu were some of the worst. Kai felt like he was over bursting with emotions. Guilt, grief, and anger clouded his mind over the loss of Wu. Joy, confusion, and deep-seated anger clouded his heart over his parents. Kai didn’t know how to deal with everything. He couldn’t really talk with his previous confidence, he couldn’t move without double guessing himself, and his decision-making skills were in pieces, grounded into a fine dust.

Does he reconnect with his family or not? What could he do the aid the search of Sensei Wu? Are Nya and Lloyd doing alright? Cole seems to be the hardest hit out of all of them, maybe he should go check on him?

Lying on his bed in the Temple of Airjitzu, Kai couldn’t muster his strength to well, do anything! He just needed some time to just… process, everything that had happened in the past month. His parents, of course, had given him some space, and just said that when he’s ready to contact them. Kai thinks that they also didn’t know how to deal with his situation and just took a cop-out. Or maybe they just wanted to breathe fresh, non-swamp-sewer air and tour Ninjago after being in captivity in 10 years. Honestly, who knows?

Lloyd had walked in and provided a brief source of relief for Kai, but too soon had he walked away, going back to his training. Kai saw his baby brother’s eyes sporadically turn green, infused with his element, in just 3 days. Kai would have joined him too, doing whatever hellish program he had set up for himself, if he wasn’t just ambushed by his feelings whenever he tries to get up, wondering if that was even the right choice. He certainly felt that it was his fault that he lost Sensei Wu, and now his kid brother had trained so hard that his eyes became green just to find Sensei again.

Nya was dealing with her own reconciliation with his parents and sometimes offered Kai a shoulder to cry on. Mostly, she was by herself, as Jay had told Kai to ease his worry. Still, his worry for Nya is topped only by his worry about the future.

Cole had also been hit hard by the loss of Sensei Wu and was shutting himself in. Zane was still trying to spend time looking for Pixal throughout the Bounty and any of our other bases of operations, trying to tracer her down.

That left Jay, who really, was as much of a help as a hindrance to Kai. Hanging out with Jay meant that Kai soon developed a terrible sense of humour, an arsenal of horrible puns, and way too many prank ideas. Jay had made sure that everyone was fed, watered, and in some cases- slept. Of course, being the responsible one for once meant that Jay had to bully his most stubborn teammates into taking a break, or having some food.

“MOOOORRRRNNIIIIIINNG!” Kai was once again woken up by Jay’s terrible screeching. Turning to face the wall, Kai pushed a pillow on top of him just so he could remain in the land of sleeping for longer. No such luck.

“KAAAIIIIII! GET UP!” Jay, screamed as the door to his room flung open. Aw man here we go again, Kai grumbled to himself.

“So what would you like to have this morning? Eggs and bacey? Toast with jam? How about-“

“How about you shut up and leave me alone!” Kai shouted, irritated by the perky tone that Jay has adopted. Watching Jay’s smile become less bright and more forced, Kai couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. Sitting up and rubbing the base of his neck, Kai apologised for his outburst. “Sorry, Jay- it’s just that I need some time, alone.”

Jay nodded solemnly, before sitting down at the edge of his bed. Kai watched as Jay took a deep breath before saying his piece.

“I know Kai, but… Nya… she needs you. You have got to fix your relationship with your parents, or at least start on the first step. I’m going to be honest: I’m not good with people like you are. I don’t know how to get Lloyd to rest, because he’s going to break his body this way. Don’t get me started on Cole, who won’t open up to me at all. And I can’t out logic Zane. He keeps saying that since he’s a robot, he doesn’t need rest as we humans do.”

Kai stayed silent for a while, mulling over Jay’s words. Truth is, if he could, he would have done so already. What did Jay know about these kinds of relationships, anyways? In fact, when compared to everyone else on the team, Jay has the best relationship with his parents. So what was the point of this? Kai felt his hands curl up into a fist, bunching his bedsheets. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, he breathed out to calm himself down before he could impulsively do something he’d regret.

“No can do, Jaybird. I don’t even know where to start,” Kai said regretfully. Kai honestly expected for Jay to slink out of his room, to go pester Nya to try or to get Lloyd to see sense, or to even get his best buddy to open up about his troubles. Kai did not think that Jay seemed to double down, taking several huge gulps of air, and one the edge of hyperventilation. He saw Jay’s hands tighten into fists before he spoke in a trembling voice.

“Kai… did is something that I really, really don’t want to share. It’s something that I keep wanting to erase out of my memories. But I can’t, because no matter how much I try to see it as just a prank- it’s the truth. I’m… adopted,” Jay finished in a hushed whisper. Immediately, Kai sat up straighter. He hadn’t heard this before. “Please, please, keep this a secret, Kai.”

“…so, when did you find out?” Kai whispered back.

“It was at the height of our popularity craze right after stix. A letter had come in, about how my father had died. Immediately, I went off to my Ma and Pa’s scrapyard, but it turns out that I had been adopted, and that my biological father was… Cliff Gordon,” Jay’s teeth had begun shuddering as tears came leaking out of his eyes.

“Oh,” That’s all Kai could really say. I mean, how were you going to reply to that?

“Of course, I felt all sorts of different emotions at first. Relief that my Pa didn’t die, confusion at why I was abandoned on my parent’s doorstep, realisation why neither of my parents had elemental powers, and eventually gratitude because my biological father had written me into his will.”

“But Kai, you don’t just easily forget the feeling when you thought that your parents died. I’m sure that if Cole was himself right now, he would have knocked some sense into you.” Jay stated with a small smile. “Our lives as Ninja are really, really dangerous. Yesterday, we lost Sensei Wu. Tomorrow… well, let’s just say that as a Ninja, you have to cherish time with your loved ones. Don’t put off tomorrow what can be done today.”

And Kai seriously was lost for words. Jay was… 100% right. There were no faults, no counterarguments. Danger was a Ninja’s job description, and too soon he could leave this realm without patching things up with his parents- his parents had almost done so too when his father had been struck by the Forward blade. If he couldn’t do it for himself, and his parents- well, he could do it for Nya’s sake.

Suddenly energised, Kai stood up.

“Thank you, Jay.”

And off he went to call his parents, checking in on them, holding a conversation that had a semblance of normality. They had talked about safe topics, about interesting areas Ray and Maya had visited, about Kai and Nya’s adventures, and about Kai’s team, Sensei Wu- anything, really.

Tears of joy fell down his cheeks before he decided to barge into Nya’s room, throwing open her curtains and rousing her from her slumber.

Because now, they had a chance. They could reconcile.

And then they can find Sensei Wu.

- Kai - It was their first machine in 6 months, and Kai had managed to lose his powers. Again. This time, however, the warmth and fiery spirit that Kai could always cling to were gone as well. He had always felt utterly powerless without his fire. But without his anger? Kai was more than useless. He couldn’t even defend the civilians from the fire snakes, because he was out of shape as well and had to rely on Jay to save him. Jay!

Severely discouraged by this fact, he told his team to just ‘go ahead without him'. He would not be of any help to them anyways. He would only add more onto their already full plate as they would have to focus on defending him too.

Slumping next to an overturned car, Kai hid his face in his hands. What if he never gets his powers back? Would they hate him? Forget him? Maybe he could become The Red Shogun again, maybe pilot a mech as Pixal does.

Kai’s jumbled thoughts were interrupted by a kid (seriously, how many disasters have Ninjago faced to let people carry on their normal lives whilst it’s raining fireballs?) handing him a journal, stating that Kai was his favourite Ninja and could he please, please sign his notebook?

“Sorry kid,” Kai huffed out. “I’m not really a ninja without my powers.”

“Well then, why don’t you go help your teammates?” The kid, Max asked.

“Because, I’m useless, that’s why!”

“Well- if you don’t help the ninja, I will!” And with that, Max stormed away and started to head for the scene of danger. Kai called out to him futile to come back and resigned himself to his fate. Picking up the notebook, Kai saw a cartoonish sticker of him in his ninja mask at the front, before coming to an epiphany.

His teammates didn’t like him for just his fire. Nor did the Ninjago citizens. He carried everyone’s hopes and dreams on his back and he can’t just turn around now and leave him to face the enemy alone!

What was he thinking?

Immediately, Kai rushed down the street to the Ninjago Museum of ancient artifacts.

Kai didn’t always have to run red hot. He didn’t need to perpetually be angry. Sometimes, it’s okay to mellow out. But now is not the time. Now, he has to save his family from one crazy snake lady who was fuelled only by revenge.

Kai couldn’t just be fuelled by his anger. Facing off with Aspheera taught him that. Being angry all the time was exhausting when he inevitably turned off the switch. Anger clouded his thoughts, made errs in his judgment, caused him to be impatient- all whilst ignoring the important parts of his life- his family. And from now on, Kai would only tap into anger when it was absolutely necessary. What matters the most to him isn’t feeling invulnerable, like nothing could hurt him, especially if he was protecting his teammates. Rather, it was the job that Kai had to do. Emotions in battle are a tricky thing, but all the times he observed Lloyd setting aside his feelings for the greater good had made Kai realise that emotions can be easily goaded. Manipulate, by enemies such as Chen and Harumi.

In a life or death situation, Kai couldn’t just rely on his feelings. He had to embrace his moral code, the values that he holds dear, and act upon them, even though it may seem impossible at times. And he shouldn’t get frustrated with his team.

Kai may be angry, but the only time he’ll properly deal with his emotions will be when the battle is all over, and then he will learn how to compartmentalise, how to sort through his emotions. Maybe he’ll take up blacksmithing part-time again.

All Kai knew that was in this instance, he refused to let his life be ruled over uncontrollable feelings, mostly of rage. He was the master of his own emotions.

And nothing will stop him from helping out his team.

#ninjago #ninjago fanfiction #ninjago kai #kai smith #kai centric #ninjago angst week #ninjago angst week 2021 #ninjago nya #nya smith #ninjago lloyd #lloyd garmaodn #ninjago zane #zane julien #ninjago cole #cole brookstone #ninjago jay #jay walker #ninjago ray #ninjago maya #ninjago pilot #ninjago season 2 #ninjago season 3 #ninjago season 4 #ninjago season 5 #ninjago season 7 #ninjago season 11 #i am so done right now

[fallingoverharrypotter]

Torn a New One

This is based on the @drarrymicrofic​ prompt for pretend, and got very long. Heres the ao3 link :).

The shirt is supposed to make Harry look like that one Bratz doll meme; you know the one. 

Thanks for reading <3 <3

Harry is a stoic man. That’s what Hermione calls him.

He’s sitting on Ron’s plush carpeted floors in his shiny new flat. Ron himself is passed out on a couch that costs more galleons than a year of Hermione’s tuition, with Hermione herself teetering on the edge of both her couch and hers and Ron’s refusal to bring up that they’re still fucking on the side of their tumultuous breakup. She brings up Harry’s problems to distract herself, and Harry tells her not to bother. Harry also tells her that she and Ron should just own up to their idiocy and sort their crap out sooner rather than later, and then Hermione yells loud enough to wake Ron with: Harry James Potter, you’re a complete and utter hypocrite. Ron does wake up when their voices raise like this, and then cordons Hermione off to the main bedroom leaving Harry to pretend that he’ll floo home, before the three of them end up eating cereal whilst sitting at/on Ron’s granite countertops the next morning.

All three look a right picture. Hermione is staunchly refusing to acknowledge that she’s wearing a t-shirt of Ron’s – old Canon’s merch that she’s absolutely swimming in. Harry, in solidarity, is also wearing one of Ron’s shirts without pants – the newest Wheezes rollout collection, classic stylized lettering (Ron’s got this beautiful flat because every single Witch and Wizard between the ages of 14 and 37 owns Wheezes now). And Ron himself is shirtless and in nothing but underwear.

They’ve seen more of each other than is completely normal over the last 15 years, but they’re still indulgent enough not to bring up any of the shit they refuse to talk about. They need a balancing force, Harry often thinks, someone who is outrightly honest and refuses the stupid little games that the golden trio fall into to avoid talking about their true feelings. That’s what Harry thinks inside his head, but his body ends up groaning and bending forward so his forehead smacks the countertops none too gently. His consciousness sounds more and more like someone he refuses to think about whenever he’s been drinking. Merlin save him.

“Oi,” Ron admonishes without looking up from his bowl. He’s leaning atop the counter on forearms and staring into his cereal, swirling the spoon around the stodgy mess and eating no longer.

Harry grunts first, and then says “gonna sick up, Ronnykins?” and gets glared at by Hermione who is onto her third bowl of cereal at this point. Right. Can’t joke about Lavender either, apparently. That fling definitely didn’t help the dynamic, Harry reminds himself.

“Jus’ don’t wan’ you bruising my bench with your fat head.”

Harry kicks out at Ron with his closest foot and makes contact, gets an immediate groan for his efforts, before Ron’s pulling up from his slouch and getting Harry into a pretty tight headlock. Harry resorts to elbowing Ron in the gut over and over. Ron groans and releases, making a mad dash for the fancy powder room into which he projectiles.

Hermione, for all she looks dazed and noncommittal this early into a hangover, manages to give off an air of created aloofness about the violent noises coming from down the hall. Harry smirks at her, and gets his own kick in response that makes him exclaim “ow, fuck. You two are so bloody violent.”

Before she responds, there’s a tapping at the window. Owl. Hermione stares at Harry to let him know that there’s no way she’s moving from her lounging for the bloody post, so Harry straightens up to open the window for the tawny. Efficient things these post owls are this morning; just drops the paper on the countertop near Harry’s bowl before flying right out the window without even waiting for a treat.

Harry’s shaking his head to brush away the last fuzz of the evening with the assistance of the scent of fresh air. Hermione gasps out loud. That makes Harry turn around quick enough for whiplash, and then he wishes fervently for death by sustained head trauma when the figure on the front of the paper, unfurled and sepia, winks right at him.

“Fuck,” Harry says. His gut churns, and then he’s running down the hall, past the occupied powder room to Ron’s master bath, and vomits up his guts.

 ***

Ron’s back in the kitchen by the time that Harry stumbles back in. Three strong cups of tea are quick-brewing under Hermione’s wand, even though both her and Ron’s attention is maintained by the Prophet’s front page. Because that is Draco Malfoy wearing a Wheezes “I shagged Harry Potter and all I got was this stupid shirt” collectable.

“It’s ironic!” Ron and George had insisted on its’ inception 4 years back. Only 100 had been made, a necessity: scarcity is key. They resell for a lot of money these days. Harry would rather die than see another in person. His face, a terrible photo of him caught by photographers during a pretty brutal night out, is plastered right on the middle along with stylized fireworks that go off every couple of minutes. He’d been convinced into making them, to try and control the narrative or whatever bullshit the Weasley’s had spouted just a couple of days beforehand when Harry had started stomping around the burrow or the floor of the joke shop or Hermione and Ron’s old shoebox apartment in anguish. It worked, he guesses, and he doesn’t see many of them anymore, as they’re kept in the strongest of imperturbable charms and modified protegos by anyone lucky enough to get one. But this one. This one he didn’t know about.

Hermione’s been muttering to herself as she read the accompanying story, when her voice perks up. “Merlin, listen to this: ‘this intrepid reporter asked what I’m certain all our readership will be most curious to uncover now that we are sitting down with the one and only Draco Malfoy. When we had sat down in Mr. Malfoy’s beautifully appointed drawing room, I too was especially shocked at his choice of attire,’” Hermione pauses here to roll her eyes and mutter “oh here we go,” before continuing in a higher and haughtier voice. “‘We all know the poise that Mr. Malfoy holds, one of Wizarding Britain’s most darling Stars, his performance in Wizarding Wireless serials having taken our world by storm the past 6 years. I must myself mention the serialisation of the modern take on the Wizarding classic story of Millicent Mimbletonia’s Marvelous Manor; captured this reporter’s heart, it did.’ What a load of absolute nonsense.”

“Oh, come on, Herm,” Ron says and knocks into her arm to get her to continue the story.

“Fine, but this is all absolute tripe. What was Draco thinking! Okay. Blah blah blah, you can’t believe how long this person goes on about Draco’s drawing room, blah. Okay here. ‘On questioning Mr. Malfoy’s choice to wear the now famously collectible Wheezes’ Harry Potter shirt, the gentleman seems to look slightly pensive.’

“‘‘Monsieur,’ our Star addresses me, ‘when you have been in the business of telling stories for as long as I, you start to have a great fondness for truth. I must now admit to you, and all of your lovely readers, that I bought this shirt on release and whilst under Polyjuice’. Now readers, you must bear with Mr. Malfoy here. Yours truly was very shocked-’ Good God, can this man obfuscate. Okay, then Draco says, ‘‘I’ve kept my ownership of such an item close to my chest, and away from my closest relationships. I have found over the years that true mutual affection, friendship, and love, have foundations built on beds of uncertainty and trust simultaneously, and thus I was afraid to expose myself.’ I but in here and ask what we must all be thinking at this admission: is he such a big fan of our Saviour that he is ashamed? But Mr. Malfoy continues: ‘No, monsieur. In all honesty, I am the man’s biggest critic.’’” Harry ducks his head, his hands shaking as he reaches for the now over-brewed tea.

Hermione looks up at Harry and Ron with wide eyes. Ron looks back at her wide eyed too, glancing small looks at Harry every now and again when he finds something particularly salacious, but he says nothing. Harry is hiding his trembling hands and trembling mouth behind a blisteringly hot cup of tea. She receives no objections, and continues. “‘‘I am livid that he’s been out of the public eye for so long regardless of his exceptional ability to bring about change in those around him; Potter has worked the same archival job in the Ministry for 5 years, with no end in sight, I fear. He refuses to allow those outside of his closest friends and family to know him in any sense, and I would argue that this is truly detrimental to his relationship with the Wizarding community. Although I disagree with the man on many things, I will be the first to say here and now that if any person deserves privacy, it is him. But the relationships we build with those we love-’’” and Harry snatches the paper out of Hermione’s hands.

“Harry,” Ron starts, reaching out a hand and grasping his upper arm. Hermione too has hopped down off the counter and is crowding Harry’s other side. He wants to shake them off, but he can’t. He can’t stop looking at the paper in his hands with Draco’s figure. Draco’s white blond head of hair turned beige on paper, his eyes sharp and flirty to readers, his hands restlessly gripping at his shirt. The shirt with Harry’s face.

Harry is a stoic man. Hermione tells him that exactly, Ron tells him that adjacently, and Draco. Draco has said the same thing in so many ways and at so many times that Harry has had it drilled into his head. His eyes are watering now, a little. And he can’t read much more of the article, but he doesn’t really need to. Because Draco will skate around enough of his personal life that it seems as though he’s come clean about something when he’s actually just marketing his next serial; it’s what he does.

This time, though, he’s wearing one of those terrible shirts that almost single-handedly sparked the Wheezes fashion line and bought Ron this apartment, and he’s saying things here that Harry knows are true. Knows are directed right at Harry. Knows because a week ago Harry had walked right out of Draco’s “well-appointed” drawing room, slamming the door and not answering the following owls. Harry hasn’t slept at his own sparse flat for a week. He’s spent time at Ron’s, spent time at Hermione’s, spent time at the Burrow. He’s even spent time in the dark halls of Grimmauld, which he hasn’t wanted to touch for years, no matter how many people around him shared their opinions on it being the perfect. Home. One day.

They’re standing there, the three of them, when a knock sounds on Ron’s front door. Harry freezes, but Ron staggers out into the hallway, still in nothing but underwear.

“Sweet Merlin, Weasley, could you put on some bloody pants? You do know it’s ten o’clock?” Says the visitor, and Harry just lets his back go limp, setting out to truly bruise Ron’s beautiful granite countertops with his forehead once again. He can hear Ron sarcastically mumble something along the lines of ‘yes Malfoy, of course you can come in’. Hermione grips his arm slightly in sympathy, but turns to face the entrance to the kitchen anyway. Like a traitor.

“Hermione, lovely as always. I see the three of you are in similar states of distressed undress this morning. Have you finally succumbed to your polyamorous destiny?”

“Nice to see you too, Draco. Lovely article.”

“Thank you. Do you like the shirt, too? Catches a sweet mint in resale these days.”

“You don’t say…”

“Yes, yes. Now, Harry, please pick yourself up off of the place we civilised people prepare our food.”

Harry groans into the cool surface, but can’t stop himself from responding. It’s a natural reaction to the bullshit that comes out of Draco’s mouth most times. “If you’ve ever made a meal by yourself in your life, I’ll eat the countertop.”

“Harry,” his voice is menacing, and his footsteps are getting closer, “I’m not civilised.” And at that Draco grabs Harry by the shoulder and turns up around and back up against the counter top with not a small amount of force.

Harry’s reply comes out breathless from the impact. “You said ‘we’.”

“It was a universal ‘we’.” Draco says this through gritted teeth. His blond eyebrows are sitting right on top of his grey eyes and they scream murder louder than they’ve ever done before, which is saying something since Draco was once a Death Eater, no matter what the admiring general Wizarding public would like to remember.  

Harry doesn’t have a retort prepared, per se. It would be a more concise comment on how Draco hadn’t taken a single English language course his entire life, and what would he know about the universal ‘we’, but Harry meets Draco’s eyes and he’s a bit lost. A week of blanket non-communication. A bit extreme. Not gone longer than a couple of days without talking for years, have they.

“Cuppa, Draco?” That’s from Ron.

“Yes. Two sugars. Level.”

Ron scoffs, but Draco beats him to it. “Weasley it’s two-level sugars, please, for once, reorient your sense of balance before you spill the entire sugar pot into the cup.”

“Just don’t give him any sugar, Ron. He’s obviously already mental, we don’t want him to go into cardiac arrest.” This from Hermione.

“Uh-”

Draco scoffs before Ron can respond. “Settle down Granger. I’m not going to pretend to like black tea for some sense of superiority like some of us.”

“It’s better for your-”

“You know what’s good for your health?” Draco all but yells and spins around to face Ron and Hermione. Ron, still next to naked, and Hermione drowning in Ron’s clothes. She’s back to sitting on the counter, Ron leaning back next to her. They look like they’ve looked for the past 10 years – drawn to each other, allies, et cetera. Draco huffs. “What’s good for your health is you two sitting down and talking about your absolutely bloody insane coupling. What’s good for your health is not getting blackout drunk every Friday night and ending up sleeping with each other, and then not talking about it, until the next week when you can do it again.”

Ron and Hermione are shifting where they sit, Hermione, looking as though she’s getting herself ready to argue back, and Ron in a more protected position behind his ex-girlfriend. Harry feels a little sorry for them, getting the third degree from Draco when he looks as unhinged as he does now. The Harry on his chest, a mess when the photo was taken, is now looking at them disappointedly like he’s on Draco’s side. Like a magical recreation of a Harry who was in quite an intense meltdown at the time has any right to be “on Draco’s side” about any issues of wellbeing.

Hermione does get the strength to pipe up. “Don’t take that tone with us, Draco Malfoy.” But that’s all she can get out. Harry’s pretty sure she’s stumped. Doesn’t have an argument. Draco, Harry knows, has refused to get involved in this situation. Has watched from the side-lines and stewed. Harry’s been all for letting the two of them work their shit out in their own time, but he’s a stoic man, what does he know about all that?

“Don’t take that tone with us, Draco Malfoy,” is Draco’s retort, mocking back in a high-pitched squeak that Harry winces at. Hermione was about to hop off the counter, he could see, but Ron’s sudden arm around her waist kept her down. “You two just have to talk about it. So what if Hermione slept with Lavender? You guys weren’t together at the time!”

Hermione splutters, eyes wide, all thoughts of advancing physically on Draco gone. Ron sat eyes wide too, flicking between Draco and Hermione as if waiting for more.

“Wait-” he starts.

Hermione wails “Ron I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I know. It was such a bad thing to do-”

“No wait! You’ve been acting weird because of that?” And Ron looks incredulously at Harry. Harry sends him an incredulous look back, equally as surprised that Draco hit the nail on the head.

“What! You knew?” Hermione is still wailing.

Ron turns fully to face her and wails himself: “Of course I knew! How could I not know! Harry told me! Draco told me! Lavender told me! Hell, a month ago you got so drunk you told me.”

Hermione’s eyes are so wide that Harry’s afraid she’s going to start crying, and he grabs Draco’s arm in shock. Draco tenses all of a sudden and then Harry consciously remembers why he’s not doing that and shrinks back again. Ron and Hermione aren’t really focusing on anything but themselves now, so they don’t notice how Draco turns slowly back to face Harry, backed against the kitchen’s island like he has been since Draco arrived.

“And you, Harry Potter.” Draco pauses, and Harry has time to do a quick pass over. Draco on the front page of the Daily Prophet and Draco in the middle of Ron’s stylish London flat are two very different Draco’s. Quiet, pensive, charming and loveable Draco in the papers. Thoughtful. Friendly. A bloody myth.

This Draco. Angry, flustered, dishevelled, loud. This is the same Draco who, when Harry slipped up the other week – the week when everything changed – went red, went silent, went unresponsive in so many ways. Harry, fresh off the first love confession he’d ever given, so incredibly off the cuff that it had shocked him and scared him, had had to storm out of the apartment, slam the doors behind him, and apparate away to his own flat he barely spends any time in.

He’d slipped up. They’d never even suggested anything romantic between the two of them. They’d been close for a long time at this point and. Feelings. His feelings. They were supposed to be unspoken. He’d been nursing the growing beast of his feelings behind his stupid chest, which was okay as long as they were unspoken. Pretending every day that they weren’t eating at him alive.

Eating at him when he woke up in Draco’s spare room on more mornings than he’d liked to count, early enough before work that they could sit for breakfasts in Draco’s kitchen. And then Harry’s co-workers at the Ministry archives asking him questions about Draco’s new shows or his schedule or his favourite foods. Draco and Harry having dinner with Ron and Hermione at hole in the wall restaurants in the muggle world. Birthdays together; dinners at Draco’s or Ron’s nicer flats; bickering over anything and everything they could get their minds on.

“You hate my job.”

Harry’s eyes bulge open. Did he mean to say that? Sweet Merlin. It was definitely him, and now Draco is staring at him in confused consternation, as if he has to come to terms now that Harry’s gone insane.

Harry doubles down, though. Trusts his subconscious decisions. “Yeah, you hate my job!” he repeats.

“Are,” Draco starts, slowly, “you kidding me.”

He could respond, but Harry just shakes his head instead.

Harry’s thought Draco’s been properly angry this whole time. He was wrong. “I hate your job? Who doesn’t hate your job!” Draco’s arms reach out and grab tightly around Harry’s upper arms. Harry’s not above flexing, just a little. He tells himself it’s to test the grip, but honestly, he’s hoping to distract Draco from the rage.

“It’s not that bad!” Harry repeats, and Draco groans loudly.

“Not that bad? Are you trying to give me a stress induced ulcer?”

“What do you know about stress induced ulcers?” comes a faint response from Hermione.

Draco turns his head, hands still tight around Harry’s biceps, and says “don’t you two have make-up sex to attend to?”

Harry responds. “Ron’s sick.”

Draco glares back at Harry for a second, and then turns back to where Ron and Hermione haven’t moved. “Get out, you’re distracting him from the fight.”

“We’re the emotional support,” and “lame fight” come respectively from Hermione and Ron.

“Oh, that’s rich!” Draco yells in their direction, but Harry’s sure that he’s ignoring Ron’s comment. “Emotional support! You two have let this wanker,” a thumb thrown at Harry from over Draco’s shoulder, “probably crash on your couches rather than forcing him to face me. You’re all as bad as each other.”

“Draco,” Harry feels he has to say, and draws Draco’s attention from his two best friends who definitely have been letting him crash on their couches and had not once tried to force Harry to face his problems. He loves them a hell of a lot.

“Don’t you try to lessen this, Harry Potter.” Harry’s been on the receiving edge of worse glares from Draco, so this one isn’t that bad. Harry’s actually feeling a lot better now that Draco is in the same room as him. Feels his terrible, traitorous heart almost relax. “I’m sick of you three. You’re the worst bloody enablers for each other.”

Harry scoffs. Sure, they’d never force him to do something he didn’t want to, but it’s not like they agree with his decisions all the time.

Draco hears the scoff of course, and gives up on trying to chase the others out of the kitchen. He turns around towards the entrance, faces away from all of them and talks to himself at top volume. “This is what my life has become. The sole source of constructive criticism for the bloody Golden Trio.”

Ron snorts to cover up a laugh.

“I survive working for a fascist dictator, successfully rebuild my image, forge a new path for myself in the world, but I’m here. An overworked, under-rewarded, glorified therapist!”  

Harry, Hermione, and Ron exchange glances. The other two look at Harry in commiseration, but Harry is starting to think that Draco has a bit of a point when he realises that Ron’s arm is still around Hermione’s waist who is leaning right into his side.

“Okay.” Draco takes a deep breath and turns around to face Harry. “Since they’re not leaving, you all get to hear this.” He steps closer. “I hate your job. I hate your flat. I hate that you won’t face up to hard things, and I refuse to be okay with any of that.”

Harry swallows hard.

“People are letting you get away with anything at the moment, and when you told me you loved me, I got scared. Because I thought that I’d become one of those people to you too.”

“That’s not-”

“No.” Draco stops Harry for butting in. “No. We’re not pretending any longer. I love you-” thump goes Harry’s heart in his chest, eyes bulging and smile unable to be stopped “-but sometimes I seriously don’t like you.”

Harry’s smile does dim at that, but only slightly.

Draco looks away at last, his hands on his hips, and starts pacing. “I couldn’t believe-” sharp glance at Harry through the pacing, “-you just left after you said that. I couldn’t believe you’d actually not answer my owls. You’re an absolute coward sometimes.”

“You didn’t say anything…” Harry mumbles.

“Oh,” Draco responds with an eyeroll, still pacing, “so you get to freak out for a week, but I’m not allowed longer than a couple of minutes to compose myself?”

Harry ducks his eyes, ashamed.

Draco hmphs, and pauses in his pacing to look down his nose at Harry. “That’s right. You should feel bad.”

Shirt-Harry shakes his head at real-Har- “God Draco, take the shirt off!”

“What?��� Draco is shocked into pausing his restless movement. “Take my shirt off? You haven’t even apologised and want to get me half naked like the rest of you? I think not!”

“That’s not- ugh, forget this.” Harry reaches forward and grabs Draco mid-pace. “Draco.” Deep breath. Harry meets Draco’s eyes. Draco looks like he’s been through his paces. He doesn’t even look angry anymore, he just looks like the culmination of a week of stress. Ron and Hermione are eating dry cereal right out of the box from their perch as they watch, and they both give Harry nods and a thumbs up in encouragement when his eyes stray to them.

He’s a stoic man: Draco and Hermione are right. He hasn’t had to be brave in a long while. This is a moment that’s worth it though, even if he has to fake it at first.

“I’m sorry.” He has to pause at that, because he can feel the emotions bubbling up a bit too high. He takes a deep breath, and makes sure that Draco’s eyes don’t stray. “You’re… you’re right. About a lot of that-”

Draco buts in with “I’m right about all of it, actua-”

“Shut up, do you want me to get this out?”

Draco concedes.

Harry takes another breath, but the nerves have disappeared in the face of Draco’s unfiltered verve. “I shouldn’t have left. I was-”

“A coward.”

“Draco.”

“…sorry.”

“I was. I was a coward. I was scared. You didn’t respond, which never happens. You’re so good with your words.” He has to take a minute to collect his thoughts, but finds the right thread. “I love you, and have done for a while. I ran because I kind of didn’t mean to say it then. We were already fighting about something, and it just came out, which wasn’t right, and sometimes I’m so afraid that things will change, because you’re my best friend-” “Hey!” “-my best friend and I didn’t want to lose that.”

“You should have said that then.”

Harry closes his eyes. God, feelings are so bloody hard. “Yeah, yeah I know.”

“Oh well, as long as you know.”

“Draco. Shut up.” He swallows. “I like my job.”

“No, you don’t. You come home-” a sharp breath “-you come to mine, I mean. You come to mine after work and you can’t stop complaining. We like our jobs. I’m sure when Hermione finishes her ChP and becomes the Minister she’ll love her job too.” (“It’s a PhD, Draco, I’ve told you a million times.” “Maybe another time, Herm.”)

Harry has to breath deeper, because his blood is pumping a bit too fast in his ears. He drops his hands from Draco and takes a couple of steps back. A retreat. “I think,” and he has to swallow a couple of times before he can force the words out of his throat. He looks up and meets all of their eyes. “I don’t think I can do important things anymore. I. I don’t want to- I.”

“Merlin sakes, Harry.” Draco says. “I think it may be time we force you into therapy.” And Draco just looks impatient. “You can’t keep pretending it’s not a problem, and we can’t keep letting you!”

Harry. Harry nods. He thinks he nods. It’s what he wants to do, but he’s not really looking at anyone anymore, eyes to the ground, heart a bit too fast in his chest for comfort. He wishes that he was still eating soggy cereal in the kitchen before the post arrived this morning. He’s a stoic coward.

Draco seems to take a deep breath, and then he turns around to face the others. “Okay, get up. I’m sick of standing in Weasley’s kitchen.”

Harry takes a pause and looks at Draco’s face. He’s perfectly serious, and so is the Harry on his shirt.  Harry’s heart is still racing, but Draco just looks resigned and present. He can’t help himself from smiling a little when his eyes catch on Draco’s. He gets a pretty severe glare in response, before Draco just walks right out of the kitchen and into the living room.

Harry follows, and hears the small grunt from Hermione hitting the ground behind him. Two sets of feet follow his own.

“Don’t forget my tea, Weasley!”

Ron scoffs, but still walks back into the kitchen to make a tea he’d promised about 20 minutes earlier.

Harry sits down on the floor in the same place he sat last night. Draco’s chosen the armchair near the fire; where he usually sits. Hermione stomps over to take the seat on the couch closest to the armchair, and Ron can be heard pottering around the kitchen.

“PhD.”

Draco looks to Hermione with a frown. “What?”

Hermione looks haughty yet contrite. Like she actually can’t help herself from making sure that Draco knows he was wrong, and feels a little bit sorry about it. “It’s a PhD, not a ChP or whatever you called it.”

“Honestly Granger, what does it matter?”

A harrumph from Hermione as she settles back into Ron’s expensive couch cushions. “It’s a very important thing.”

Harry chucks her a grin, and she smiles back proudly.

Draco rolls his eyes. “Why do you all insist on patting yourselves on the back constantly. You don’t see me singing my own praises.”

Ron let’s out a violent laugh from the kitchen, and Draco flushes a little bit, his eyes flicking to Harry who grins at him too.

Mugs float out from the kitchen, Ron trailing behind. Harry grabs his out of the air and cherishes the sent of the strong tea. He can’t help but laugh when Hermione grimaces at the taste of her milkless cup, and Draco looks at her as if he’s won something.

Harry’s won something. He’s won Draco sitting here in Ron’s expensive apartment, Draco rolling his eyes when Hermione chides him about his too sweet tea, then Draco chiding Ron when he argues that Ron made it too sweet anyway, and that if he has to have teeth work done it’ll be Ron’s fault.

“You can make your own tea, you know, you’re not that famous.”

“Actually, Weasley, I’m more famous than all three of you, currently. The only thing getting you through is dumb luck and a gullible consumer base. I get by on pure talent.”

“Sure, Draco.”

“Also, I expect thanks when Wheezes gets the significant boost in sales it’s sure to this week, what with the Prophet this morning.”

“Sure, Draco.”

Harry smiles. His arse will probably start hurting before his mug is drained, and the sounds of arguing will get tiring soon after that. He’s smiling so hard his cheeks hurt a little. He takes a deep breath. “Okay, fine. Therapy. I’ll do it.”

Ron and Hermione smile at him like they knew it was coming all along, pressed up against each other on the expensive couches. Draco just looks at him with a raised eyebrow, waiting for who knows what. Probably an oral manifesto of Harry’s recognised faults and his plans to change them. Harry just smiles right back at Draco, wide and unashamed. Draco shakes his head a little bit, lips pulling up too.

Harry’s worried that if Draco keeps looking at him at all that he’ll have to walk over there and kiss him without warning. He picks his mug up and keeps sipping though, pretends he doesn’t absolutely need to do just that. Because there’s going to be time. Lots of it.

His stoicism has its uses sometimes, maybe.

#drarry #drarry fanfic #harry potter #draco malfoy #ron weasley #hermione granger #harry potter fanfic #god what have i done this is too long #love the idea that ron gets rich by capitalizing on the idiocy of the regular consumer e.g. like Supreme #drarrymicrofic #prompt: pretend #emotionally stunted golden trio #emotionally mature draco malfoy #very sexy dynamic #harry potter fanart #my fanart #my fic

[bokunoheroanalysisforthefuture]

Time for the rest of the first challenge. Event. Whatever. Words hard.

[No. 26 - Chase Down The Leader]

We flashback just a minute or so from where we left off, in order to see just how Izuku pulled off his impressive launch across the field. He stands at the start of the minefield, watching other students pick their way through - and occasionally setting off mines with missteps - while having a veritable mumblefest over the mines and the general issue of trying to pick past them. 

The general gist of the mumbling: The mines are the type that blow up when stepped on, and aren’t that strong, but can throw a student off enough to possibly cause a chain reaction and lose them a lot of time. It’s better to go slow to avoid damage, even for leaping types, and trying to slow others is a guaranteed time loss. Izuku then analyzes the field in front of him, noting the spots people avoid and that most students will be most on guard at the entrance, which means there are plenty of mines left for his plan so long as they stay frosty. 

Izuku puts his armor plate to work digging up mines, muttering about how anti-personnel mines should only be 14 centimeters or so deep (about 6 inches). Jirou, just making her way into the field and using her quirk to… I guess disable mines in front of her? Anyway, she actually notices Izuku is up to something and asks what he’s doing, though I think it’s not one she expects to get answered. In short order, Izuku has a pile of about a dozen mines, and mentally claims he’s taking a page from Kacchan’s book. Meanwhile, Present Mic announces Shouto and Katsuki are still in the lead, and that they’re about to cross the finish line.

Not for long, though, as Izuku names his adhoc maneuver ‘great blasting turbo speed’, throwing himself on top of his armor sheet and onto the pile of mines, launching him over the field and right towards the two leading the pack. Pretty much everyone hesitates or stops to stare for a moment, shook by the sheer brass balls it had to take to literally blow yourself sky high. The two most shook, of course, are Shouto and Katsuki, who only just start moving again when Izuku actually flies ahead of them, forgoing their fight in order to catch back up.

Izuku considers the whole experience intense, and is even more focused now that he’s managed to gain the lead. However, there’s one huge issue - he didn’t think far enough ahead to consider how he was going to land. As if that’s not enough, Katsuki is throwing himself forward with more explosions, screaming at ‘Deku’ to get back there (presumably to fight). Shouto’s not far behind, giving up keeping the others hindered in exchange for the speed he gets from icing over the field ahead of him - he doesn’t have time to worry about those behind him now.

Present Mic announces the temporary ceasefire between the two in order to chase down Izuku, and how when a common enemy appears, people stop fighting - then tacks on that, well, actually they’re still fighting, just not each other. Aizawa wonders what his friend is even trying to say. 

Izuku starts floating away from his armor sheet, the larger surface area causing it to stall and slow faster then he is. He grabs onto one of the wires as he recognizes this, and that if he loses time on his landing, passing the two again will be impossible. As the two just start to rush past him, Izuku swears mentally, telling himself to not let go - while he’s still ahead, this is his only chance. So, if passing them is impossible, then he has to maintain the lead. 

Somehow, he manages to flip in the air, using the momentum to bring the armor plate swinging around and into the ground right between the two, the pressure enough to set off several more mines. The two are forced to stop from the resulting explosion, while Izuku’s newfound momentum throws him readily ahead. 

As he falls into a duck and roll, Present Mic announces how Izuku blows off the competition with no time to lose. He goes on to marvel at Aizawa’s class, wondering what he’s teaching the kids. Aizawa says it’s not his doing, and that they’ve been spurring each other on all on their own. Present Mic rolls on with his commentary, asking who could have predicted such an incredible turn of events? Aizawa asks if he’s being ignored as Present Mic announces the first one back to the stadium:

Midoriya Izuku. The crowds go absolutely wild. Outside the stadium, Death Arms recognizes Izuku as the kid from a year ago. At home, Inko falls off the couch sobbing while repeatedly stumbling over Izuku’s name. In an unknown location, Shigaraki watches on while scratching idly at his neck. 

Izuku looks around the stadium while breathing heavily, eventually looking at one spot in particular. Somehow, he’s found Toshinori in the stands, and the two have a Moment™ from across the stadium. 

These fucking two, man. 

While Izuku is trying to keep himself from crying, the other students start making their way across the finish line as well. 

Toshinori thinks about how Izuku has the spirit of a savior hero to the core, but the sports festival is a competition that tests the exact opposite of that - your willingness to take down the enemy. Heroes nowadays depend on popular opinion so much. So many selfishly seek to beat everyone else. But that’s not Izuku - and that’s why Toshinori chose him, even as he thoughts that lack of selfishness would be his one weakness. He claps in the stands, happy to have been proved wrong and mentally apologizing for doubting him, even as he laments Izuku’s crying habits.

Some business students nearby catch Toshinori’s attention, mostly due to them discussing Izuku’s potential and how they’d market him. They talk about how Izuku’s stock is about to rise, but it’s hard to say what’s still in store for him since he didn’t show his quirk. They then start speculating about how a hero agency would market him if they took it on, with one pointing out how he’s not much to look at, so they’re have to push his skills and his unique, almost artistic sensibilities. When the resources you need aren’t there… Well, we don’t hear how that gets handled, but Toshinori does note how some things never change.

We get a brief narrative insert about the business course, most notably how they have nothing to gain by directly competing in the sports festival. Instead, they hone their skills as salespeople and run business simulations. 

Back with the hero students, we see Katsuki and Shouto both catching their breath. Katsuki is furious at Izuku once again managing to wrangle a win right from under him, while Shouto is just staring after Izuku silently. Present Mic announces more racers reaching the finish line, and that the standings will be gone over later, so the students can catch their breath for now.

Ochako and Tenya make their way over to Izuku. Ochako calls Izuku’s strategy awesome, while Tenya is in despair over losing a race with his quirk, stating that he still has progress to make. Ochako states that she’s jealous of Izuku’s first place; Izuku flushes and hides his face behind his arms, stating that it wasn’t that impressive, and was still too close. Internally, he laments that he just got lucky, that all his chance strategies happened to work. They say it’s awesome, but it was just a lucky break, and that the real test of skill starts now.

Anyways, Midnight announces the end of the race, and we get the results:

Midoriya Izuku

Todoroki Shouto

Bakugou Katsuki

Shiozaki Ibara

Honenuki Juuzou

Iida Tenya

Tokoyami Fumikage

Sero Hanta

Kirishima Eijirou

Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu

Ojiro Mashirao

Awase Yosetsu

Asui Tsuyu

Shouji Mezou

Satou Rikidou

Uraraka Ochako

Yaoyorozu Momo

Mineta Minoru

Ashido Mina

Kouda Kouji

Jirou Kyouka

Kaibara Sen

Tsuburaba Kosei

Kaminari Denki

Bondo Kojiro

Yanagi Reiko

Shinsou Hitoshi

Kendo Itsuka

Shishida Jurota

Kuroiro Shihai

Kodai Yui

Rin Hiryu

Shouda Nirengeki

Komori Kinoko

Kamakiri Togaru

Monoma Neito

Tsunotori Pony

Hagakure Touru

Tokage Setsuna

Fukidashi Manga

Hatsume Mei

Aoyama Yuuga

I wasn’t able to find this list in word form anywhere online, so I made it myself. You’re welcome. I also calculated the points each of them had going into the second event, but I’m not gonna worry about that here. I’ll do individual and team points when we actually get to the teams. That way, we’ll know who has which teams’ headbands at the end!

Moving on with the chapter. Midnight announces that the top 42 from the qualifying round will move on, conveniently just including every hero student as well as the two non-hero students who managed to place higher. For those who placed lower, the sports festival will have another way for them to show their stuff!

(Not that we see said show, which I mean, makes sense narratively speaking, but also…)

[I was going to insert the server discussion about my thoughts on the arbitrary cut-off point here, but it’s getting long enough to merit its own post at this point. So look forward to that whenever it goes up!]

Anyways, Midnight continues on, explaining that now the main selection really begins, and that the press corp is going to be jumping out of their seats, so the students should give it all they’ve got. Now, onto the second event, which she already knows - which confirms these are predetermined by UA and they just do the randomizer for the sake of the crowds. Said event is… 

the cavalry battle!

Kaminari is nervous at that, thinking about how he’s going to suck. Mineta is also looking concerned. Tsuyu notes they’re teaming up, but how, exactly? Midnight explains with a neat little graphic:

Basically, participants get in teams of two to four, and get into a horse-and-rider formation. The rules are the same as your regular cavalry battle - snag the opponent’s headbands while guarding your own - but with a twist. Each student has an assigned value based on their placement in the race. 

Sato notes that it sounds like the points in the entrance exam, so it sounds simple. Hagakure comments on how this means the point value of each team is based on its members. Midnight snaps and cracks her whip at the students that she’s about to explain, so they should shut up already. 

Individual point values start at five, at the bottom, so the student in 42nd place is forth five, 41st is worth ten, etc etc. However, the first place participant - that is, Izuku - is instead worth a whole ten million points.

That, my friends, is the face of someone realized they done fucked up.

Basically all the students stare down Izuku as he goes stiff from the internal panicking. Shinsou and Hatsume seem to be shown particular interest in it. Midnight finishes the chapter by noting that the higher-ranked students are the ones to aim for, and that this survival game is a chance for a comeback. It’s anyone’s game!

And with that, we end chapter 26… and volume three. Which means bonus content will be coming soon! See y’all then, and we’ll be back with more sports festival action in the next volume. 

#boku no hero academia #my hero academia #chapter 26 #readthrough #sports festival arc #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #todoroki shouto #yagi toshinori #kayama nemuri #yamada hizashi #aizawa shouta #uraraka ochako #Iida Tenya #seriously though #there's some small things in here which really do suggested some fucked up stuff #even if that wasn't hori's intention #it does sort of fit with the rest of what we see about hero society so like #it's hard to dismiss the evidence #the sports festival really is awful the more you genuinely think about it all #but that's another post

[scxrlettwxtches]

[6:10p.m.] kiss in the kitchen + missing each other | yang jeongin

warnings: none

requested: yes!

a/n: my first jeongin fic on this blog omggg >.< it’s short and sweet, but i really hope you like it, anon! <3 

The smell of grilled meat and the sound of sizzling filled Jeongin’s senses as he quietly opened the door to your apartment. He was supposed to be away on tour for two more days, but he’d decided to come back early, to see you, to spend his time with you. 

Slipping off his shoes as discreetly as possible, he made his way to the kitchen of your apartment, staring at the image of your back as you happily cooked with your earbuds on, listening to whatever music you liked to listen to when you had the house to yourself. Jeongin’s smile grew tenfold as he realized that you were humming to one of his songs. 

He watched silently as you flitted around the kitchen like a graceful fairy, a supernatural being of beauty and gentleness because truly, Jeongin sometimes refused to believe that you were actually a human being. You were just so kind, so soft, so unapologetically in love with him. Jeongin had long since accepted that no one would ever be able to love him with their whole heart, that his career would always stand in the way of a stable relationship, but then you came, quite literally plopping yourself into his life until you became an irreplaceable figure in it.

Ah, he just really fucking loved you.

Finally, he couldn’t stand to stay invisible any longer, and he walked forward, engulfing you in the tightest, most loving hug he could give you. Feeling his arms wrap around your waist from behind, you let out a gasp of shock before you recognized the familiar scent, the unforgettable touches of the person you hadn’t seen in over two months.

“Jeongin?”

The poor boy almost felt his heart physically melt at the way his name fell out of your lips. He’d heard it many times through the phone and on video calls, but hearing it in person? Hearing it when he could rest his chin on your shoulder?  He wouldn’t trade it for the world.

“I missed you,” he sighed, squeezing you tighter as he began to pepper kisses all over your cheek and neck, causing you to squeal.

“Jeongin, wait--baby, come on! At least let me hug you for real!” You laughed, such a joyous, untainted sound. Spinning around in his arms, you finally got to get a good look at him, to see his pretty features and his excited smile. 

Your smile grew soft as Jeongin stopped his slew of kisses, opting to stare into your eyes, his arms still comfortably wrapped around your waist. His eyes reflected a plethora of emotions, elation, relief, love, and you wanted nothing more than to bask in his affection for the rest of your life.

“My, my,” you reached up, brushing a strand of hair away from his face, “did you get even taller?”

Jeongin giggled, shaking his head and very purposely leaning down, as if to really drive to point across, “Hm…I don’t think I can grow anymore,” he said thoughtfully as he nuzzled his nose against yours before smiling innocently, “maybe you shrunk?”

“Alright, that’s it,” you growled without much bite to your voice as you reached back into a bowl and blew a puff of flour into his face, “take it back.”

The boy coughed in surprise, ducking away from your attacks as he laughed, “Why? Aren’t we raised to be honest people--hey!” He narrowly missed catastrophe as you threw a towel at him. Never one to stay on the defensive (the dorms were an absolute battle zone and it’s killed or be killed in there), he grabbed a handful of flour and threw it at you, causing you to shriek.

When the two of you were finally exhausted, covered in flour and the kitchen a mess, Jeongin moved towards you, grabbing your wrists and pulling them forward to you would fall into his chest. Your hair was dusty and your face had streaks of flour on it, but with your eyes bright and your cheeks flushed from exertion, Jeongin thought you really never looked more beautiful. 

“I can’t believe you’re really here,” you murmured softly as you looked up at him, and Jeongin’s heart completely melted. It was no use, you held him in the palm of your hand, and he had no problem letting you do whatever you wished with it. 

Jeongin cupped your cheek, causing you to scrunch up your nose at the addition of more flour on your face, but neither of you truly minded, “I’m really here,” he smiled, looking at you fondly for a moment longer before closing the distance, pressing his lips against yours.

It was chaste and simple, and so undeniably Jeongin that you found yourself melting into his touch. Your hand moved to bury into his hair, and pulling him closer as his hands moved down, running up and down your sides.

You finally pulled away, sharing secret giggles and soft smiles as Jeongin blushed. Despite dating you for almost a year, he was still a shy little one when it came to physical affection. He must’ve missed you terribly to be so forward. It was okay though; you were sure you missed him just as much, if not more. 

Jeongin giggled as you booped his nose playfully, his arms still happily wrapped your waist. He leaned in again, his lips just brushing yours when he stops. 

“Wait...what’s that smell?”

Frowning, you scrunched up your nose as you sniffed the air, and your eyes widened.

“Shit! The meat!”

Jeongin pouted as you rushed back to the stove to salvage whatever you could from the burnt meat, feeling a little cheated, but slowly, he began to chuckle. What was the rush? He had a whole lifetime to shower you with kisses, and he had every intention to do so.

#inkidz #districtninewriters #stray kids scenarios #stray kids drabbles #stray kids reactions #stray kids imagines #stray kids blurbs #skz oneshots #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz blurbs #skz fics #yang jeongin scenarios #yang jeongin imagines #yang jeongin blurbs #skz x reader #skz x y/n #stray kids x reader

[notanacousticsetcal]

begin again - calum hood

summary - based off of the song “begin again” by taylor swift. because i adore her and her songs are basically perfectly condensed little stories. so here’s what i think of when i hear that song.

mood board

warnings - hints at prior emotional and physical abuse, some emotional abuse flashbacks. toxic relationship.

word count - 1.9k

a/n - i’m not sure how I feel about it. I think I like it. please enjoy!! i love doing these song-based stories though I think they’re so fun to write so ill probably do more if you guys like it? highly highly recommend listening to the song first. or after if you want but definitely listen to it, its so good.

Took a deep breath in the mirror. He didn't like it when I wore high heels, but I do. Turned the lock and put my headphones on. He always said he didn't get this song but I do, I do.

You straightened your dress in the mirror, sucking in an anxious breath, and applied a thin layer of lip gloss. You glanced down at your heels pushing away his voice in your head. The voice that controlled you for so long. You checked the time, 6:14pm. With that, you grabbed your bag and pulled out your keys, locking the apartment door behind you. A foreign feeling washed over you as you walked down the hall. One that felt a little bit like confidence. You hadn’t felt that in a long time. It was quickly replaced by nerves at the prospect of what would be happening in 15 minutes, but you did your best to suppress them, the constant feeling of not being good enough entering your mind once again. 

It was a beautiful day. The sun was still shining though it was getting nearer to the horizon, there wasn’t a cloud in sight. It was a warm 80 degrees. 

He would say it's too hot. He would ask to stay inside. You, however, wanted to enjoy it. And that’s what matters, you reminded yourself. 

You put your headphones on as you walked along the cement sidewalk and shuffled your playlist. A song you used to love started playing softly into your ear and your finger itched to change it. You almost pressed skip, but stopped yourself. What was it he always said?

“I don’t get this song. The lyrics are kind of silly, don’t you think?” He grabs your hand and gives you that little smile he always did. The empty one that made you feel small.

“Yeah, you’re right. I’ll change it.” You reach up and change the station, falling back into the passenger seat and resting your head against the window, not knowing exactly why you felt so sad. 

He knew how much you loved that song. 

You shook yourself out of your thoughts and tucked your phone away, letting the old song play out. It sparked some of those old feelings in you. The ones you had before you met him. Those feelings of contentment and comfort. Happiness.

“I get this song,” you whispered softly to yourself.

Walked in expecting you'd be late, but you got here early and you stand and wave. I walk to you. You pull my chair out and help me in and you don't know how nice that is, but I do.

You stumbled into the small cafe and began to scan the room for an available small table. You were shocked to see the brunette already occupying a table near the window. Your favorite spot. He had a book out, but you couldn’t read the cover. 

Not wanting to disturb him, you walked up hesitantly, prepared to wait awkwardly until he happened to glance upwards, but he noticed you right away, closing his book and shoving it in his bag. 

“Hey,” he said as he stood up. A smile quickly took over his adorable features. 

“Hi.” You glanced down shyly, and his smile only grew. Before you could move, he reached around behind you and tugged your chair out from its position under the table and gestured for you to take a seat. You stared at him, embarrassingly dumbfounded, before quickly taking the seat and muttering a quick, “thank you.” 

A small, unfamiliar feeling began to grow in your stomach, replacing the pesky nerves from earlier. 

You didn’t know what it meant, but you knew you liked it. 

And you throw your head back laughing like a little kid. I think it's strange that you think I'm funny 'cause he never did. I've been spending the last eight months thinking all love ever does is break and burn and end.

“And so I ran out of the room, completely covered from head to toe in flour and practically broke down my mom’s door begging for help. She forbade me from baking ever again and I can’t say I blame her.” You smiled proudly as you watched Calum throw his head back and let out the cutest chuckle at your stupid childhood story. 

“That’s fucking hilarious. You’re really funny, you know that?” He looked at you in admiration, the most genuine of smiles on his face. Not a hint of the emotion you used to see in his face when he looked at you. One of apparent disdain and resentment. For what, you didn’t know.

You blushed a deep shade of red. 

“You really think so?” Your intonation says the questions rhetorical, but you genuinely wondered. 

“We hid behind a shower curtain at Kohl’s and won the entire game.” You finish the story up and the entire table erupts in laughter. 

“Max, you never said your girlfriend was such a blast, you should bring her around more often,” one of his friends says from across the table. Max laughs a hollow laugh but you don’t think anyone else picks up on it but you. You’ve gotten pretty good at reading him.

“She’s great, isn’t she?” He grabs your hand. It's a compliment so why does it sound like a threat?

The table continues with their conversation and Max’s jaw sets, his grip on your hand tightening,

“Are you trying to make me look bad?” He whispers. 

You lean back in your chair, dumbfounded at his ridiculous comment. “What are you talking about, Max?”

“Stop trying to show me up, these are my fucking friends,” he spits. He looks angrier than you’ve ever seen him, his face tinted red. You glance around the table to see if anyone else is noticing this. They aren’t.

“I’m not trying to show you up. I’m sorry.” You feel so small. 

“Just shut up, alright? I just want to spend time with my friends without you ruining everything for me.” With that, he turns away, leaving you to hold back your tears.

You didn’t know it, but from that moment on, you would find it hard to talk in group settings. Or to anyone at all. Because whatever he said, you believed. 

And you didn’t want to ruin everything. 

“Hey, you alright?” Calum asked, reaching out his hand gingerly to touch your shoulder. 

You jumped slightly, partially because you were daydreaming and partially because of the jolt of electricity his touch sent up your arm. “I’m sorry, did I scare you, love?” He laughed and you blushed at the pet name.

“Sorry, sorry, I have no idea why I do that sometimes. I’m so sorry.” You repeatedly apologized, growing increasingly flustered. You shook your head in an attempt to brush away the unpleasant memories that plagued your mind.

“Hey, hey,” he reached out and grazed his fingers against your arm again in reassurance and butterflies practically exploded in your stomach, that gut feeling you couldn't identify earlier growing stronger with every passing moment. “You don’t have to apologize. I was just wondering where you went, is all. I’m curious to know what goes on in that pretty head of yours.” Here comes the millionth blush, you thought as you ducked your head down, a cheesy grin on your face. 

“If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”

But on a Wednesday in a café I watched it begin again. 

You said you never met one girl who had as many James Taylor records as you, but I do. We tell stories and you don't know why I'm coming off a little shy, but I do.

“Do you like music?” He asked, resting his chin in his palm, all his attention on you. Something you weren’t used to. It made a pink flush wash over your cheeks.

You weren’t aware at the time, but Calum found it incredibly endearing.

“I love music.”

“What kind of stuff do you listen to?”

“Honestly, I mean it when I say I’ll listen to anything, but I think I most enjoy alternative. All the different sub categories. Indie, Folk, Punk, Rock, you name it, I’ve probably tried it. I think I like how all-encompassing it is. What about you?” Talking that much made you clam up a little bit, worried you’d seem annoying. He didn’t seem the slightest bit bothered, though, as his fingers began to drum softly on the wood of the cafe table, his other hand stroking his chin in thought. 

“I think I’m the same way. I think all genres have some creative element to offer and what I love most about music is the fact that there are so many different kinds.” 

You smiled to yourself, running your finger around the rim of your coffee cup.

“What’re you smiling about?” He teased.

“I just like your passion. That's all.” His expression turned bashful and he gently kicked at your feet under the table. 

Calum wondered about you. About how you would freeze up or disregard compliments. About how you remained hesitant to share your interests. About your unwillingness to really let him in. About your passive nature. He wondered about how you flinched at his touch. That hurt his heart. He felt the urge to make sure you felt safe with him.

Most importantly, he wondered who would’ve ever tried to hurt someone as gentle as you.

And we walk down the block to my car and I almost brought him up but you start to talk about the movies that your family watches every single Christmas and I would talk about that and for the first time what's past is past.

“You told him you were from France?” Calum struggled to get the sentence out as he was laughing hysterically. 

“Yes,” your hands went to cover your face in embarrassment as you let out a pained groan. “I even faked a French accent and everything but ended up getting a detention anyway.”

Calum continued to cry laughing at your story from your formative years. “You were a little rule breaker back then, huh?”

You laughed and kicked a few pebbles on the sidewalk. The breeze had picked up slightly as a storm threatened the skyline. Involuntarily, a shiver traveled up your spine. “I guess I was. No idea how I turned out like the grandma I am.”

He glanced over at you running your hands up and down your arms to ease the goosebumps and immediately started pulling off his leather jacket. You, of course, protested but he insisted and draped the heavy piece of clothing softly over your shoulders, rubbing them affectionately. 

“Thank you,” you said, softly, kicking a few more pebbles on the sidewalk as you made your way to the parking garage. 

The jacket smelled expensive and woodsy and you felt yourself cuddling into it, the scent feeling so welcoming already.

Calum felt giddy at the sight. You were blissfully unaware. 

A comfortable silence filled the evening air and you felt yourself wanting to talk about him. To tell Calum why you don’t let people in. Why he broke you. Calum chuckled to himself and your train of thought dissipated immediately. His laugh practically made you forget your name.

“Have you ever seen A Christmas Story?” 

You smiled warmly. “Of course. I love that movie.” And you felt in that moment, a piece of you slipped away. A piece of you that was never really yours… rather, who you were told to be. That happiness sucking, all consuming, toxic piece of you that left you exhausted and resentful. You decided you didn’t want it anymore. You didn’t need him anymore. You never did, you just didn’t know it.

You were you. And that was enough. More than enough. And it felt so fucking good to start to realize it.

That cool evening on that quiet sidewalk next to that cozy cafe with that smiley brown eyed boy was the night you watched it begin again.

#calum hood #calum hood imagine #calum hood fluff #calum hood fanfiction #5sos #calum hood x reader #5sos imagine #luke hemmings #calum 5sos #michael clifford #ashton irwin #fanfiction #5sos x reader #michael #ashton #calum #luke #x reader #imagine #calum imagine #calum fluff #calum fanfiction

[alphadaddyderek]

random sterek fic. kinda dark so...(hybristophilia, specifically, murder)

Stiles knew it was wrong. Like, come on now, it’s murder. But! Was it really so bad? ‘Cause think about it: yes, murder is wrong, no, it doesn’t make it better that the person/thing that got murdered was a bad person/thing, but, the way Derek does it?

It’s just hot as fuck.

Derek could snap someone's neck one minute, then in the next minute be like “wanna go out for dinner?”

It’s insane and it should be very disconcerting. Which it totally is! Well, it was. When Stiles was 16. Back then he was just about unnerved by everything Derek did. He’s very intimidating, okay!

Now, though? As an adult? He’s so desensitized to this shit, and it’s morphed its way from being alarming to being tolerable to being full on aphrodisiacal. 

It really is insane. Like tonight for example.

Stiles is at the loft, reading a book and snuggling with their cat, Kitkat. Stiles picked the name and he’s not ashamed one bit. It’s January, and it’s uncharacteristically cold in the loft, although it's always cold at the loft, it’s usually never this cold. The central heating in there is bonkers. Anyway, Derek left to help Scott and Isaac chase down a wendigo, again. Derek told Stiles not to worry about it, which, Stiles definitely tried to do and nearly had an aneurysm for his troubles. Stiles is anxiously waiting for Derek to return, it’s one thing for Derek to run head first into danger while Stiles is there because at least then Stiles could keep an eye on him. It’s another thing entirely when Derek goes on these little trips without Stiles. Derek could be bleeding out from a gash to the chest on the forest floor for all Stiles knows. 

Stiles is starting to work himself up into a panic attack, which is never good but especially when he’s alone, when the door to the loft opens up. Stiles’ head whips towards the loft door to look, to make sure that it’s Derek and not Scott coming to deliver the worst news Stiles would get since the news of his mother. 

Stiles lets out a sigh of relief when Derek is the one walking through the door, clothes clean and free of blood or rips. Stiles instantly stands up and crosses the room so fast that Derek hadn’t even closed the door yet before Stiles was all in his space. 

“Well hello to you too,” Derek jokes with a smirk before finally closing the loft door. “I’m guessing you missed me?”

“No, I just wanted to make sure I didn’t have to find a new place to live. That would be a huge hassle,” Stiles replied even though Stiles knew that Derek knew that he was lying. 

“I thought I told you not to worry,” Derek says, crossing his arms and giving Stiles The Eyebrow. 

Stiles rolls his eyes. “It’s like you don’t even know me. All I do is worry.”

Derek very not subtly sniffs the air, before looking at Stiles again. “I can smell that. Are you okay?”

Stiles huffs before finally wrapping his arms around Derek like he’s been wanting to for the past minute. “I’m fine. Are you okay? You’re the one flying into danger with nothing but nails and teeth.”

Derek wraps his arms around Stiles with a chuckle. “You are grossly underestimating just how good I am at defending myself with said nails and teeth.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever. Can we go sit down now?”

Derek pinches Stiles in the side and ducks out of the hug before Stiles has a chance to retaliate. Stiles narrows his eyes at Derek.

“See. This is why I’m going to break up with you and start dating Cora. How about that?”

Derek snorts, something that Derek would’ve never done 6 years ago. Stiles can’t help but smile.

“Yeah right. Anyway, since you were so worried about me, I have something that’ll cheer you up,” Derek states.

“Oh yeah? Like what?” Stiles asks, although he’s pretty sure he already knows the answer. As stated earlier, Stiles thinks that Derek killing is super hot. It’s a huge kink for him and Derek knows it. Derek has no problem exploiting that kink. None. Nada. Zip. 

So, whenever Derek ends someone’s life, Stiles wants to fuck him. He wants to hear all the gory details because that’s part of the kink.

It’s fucked up. Like, so fucked up. If Stiles’ father ever found out about this he’d probably have a coronary. 

“Wanna sit down first?” Derek asks. He’s teasing. He knows that Stiles wants to hear all the murder details and he’s being a grade A dick about it.

Stiles huffs, for the second time in the span of 2 minutes, and grabs Derek’s arm before dragging him towards the couch that their cat has long abandoned and depositing him onto one of the cushions. Stiles falls down beside him and waits not so patiently for Derek to speak.

Fortunately for Stiles, Derek takes mercy on him and fills him in. And oooh boy, it’s graphic. Derek actually did end up getting blood and innards on his clothes but he had a change of clothes in the car, which explains the lack of blood and innards on his clothes right now.

Of course, because Stiles is a fucking freak who loves this shit, he’s immensely turned on and he needs to fuck Derek as soon as humanly possible. 

And by the look that Derek is giving him, Stiles thinks that will happen very, very soon.

#sterek #sterek fic #derek kills people...so...just like in canon lmao #except in this stiles has the hots for it #stiles stilinski #derek hale #my fic

[thebrownssociety]

Space Jam 2 AU [AKA Across The Serververse] Part 2.

Hey! Roxy Goth here. So, just a couple of quick note before we carry on, firstly -  from now on I think I’ll just have the title of this as ‘Across The Serververse’ and drop the Space Jam 2 AU bit. 

Secondly - I can’t remember exactly how Rhythm got the toons into the Servereverse, by that I mean if they literally just stepped into it, ALA Dom + LeBron or if they had to go into a spaceship like Marvin’s. 

So I’ve just done something that may or may not be right. Enjoy!

Warning: Swearing

*6 months later*

Pepe and Penelope were excited. After 6 awesome - but admittedly long - months they were finally coming back to Tune Town. As they had been last to be picked up last time it meant they were also last to be dropped off, so by this point they had the boat to themselves.

“Ah, mon leetle cherry-blossom.” Pepe said, embracing Penelope. “The other passengers, they have gone, which leaves a monsieur and a mademoiselle alone together. What do you suppose we do in ze short about of time we have?”

Penelope giggled and hugged him, but as she hugged him she got a view of their home world. “P-p-pepe-” She said, faintly.

Not liking the nervousness in his wife’s voice, Pepe turned and his jaw dropped.

Tune Town was deserted. There were no signs of life anywhere, tumbleweeds ambled lazily across the desert parts of it, while in the forest parts the trees had started to go somewhat wild. That had always been Elmer and Sam’s job [and Marvin’s, if he was around] to cut down the trees. So where were they?

Before either of them could really process what was going on, the trees started shaking with so so much force that Pepe and Penelope were inclined to cling to each other, despite the fact they were on a boat.

“What is it?” Penelope whispered.

“I don’t know.” Pepe said, forgetting to put on his French accent. 

Just then a small figure darted out of the trees and ran towards the beach. “Don't stop!” The voice of Bugs Bunny called. “Keep goin’!” They could see him properly now, running down the beach and along the jetty. When the boat got close enough the rabbit braced himself and jumped onto it, hitting the floor with so much force he became flat.

“Hey! You have to pay!” The boat-captain yelled, while Pepe shook Bugs so he became 2-D again.

The rabbit reached into hammerspace and pulled out a couple of notes before just hurling them at the captain with an impatient. “Dere, does dat cover it? Now-” He turned to his friends. “Am Oi glad ta see you two!”

Pepe and Penelope were to stunned to respond to that, there eyes taking in the rabbit’s appearance. His eyes were wild and excited, his chin had stubble on it, his fur was messy and unkempt and - the most worrying of all for Bugs Bunny - his ears were down. He had also seen fit to dress himself in a tramps outfit. 

Seeing his friends horrified look, Bugs looked down at himself and said. “Eh...I guess ya wanna know what happened, don’ cha?” Upon getting a nod Bugs yelled to the captain to ‘park it a moment!’ and - grabbing a torch out of nowhere - began with: “It all started a mere two weeks after you left meself, Daf and Elmer were practising our famous ‘Duck Season, Wabbit season’ routine, actually, ya know what? I’ll show ya in flashback. Hold on-” He put his hands to the side of his head and concentrated.

*Flashback starts*

“Duck season!” Bugs said, ripping down a poster,

“Wabbit season!” Daffy snapped, yanking down another poster.

“Duck season!”

“Wabbit season!”

“Duck-!”

Bugs was cut of in his witty comeback by Elmer suddenly sighing and sitting down on the grass.

Bugs and Daffy looked at each other in confusion, before simultaneously shrugging and sitting next to the hunter, one on each side of him. Bugs got a carrot out his hammerspace and took a bite. “Eh...what’s up, Hunter?”

“Sowwy.” Elmer said, tiredly. “I’m not feewing it today.”

“No prob-lemo!” Daffy said, before Bugs could speak. “What do you want to do? We could go to Australia!” He pulled down a backdrop of Australia, causing them all to sweat. “Or France!” He pulled down another backdrop and threw a string of onions round both his brothers necks. “Or England!” He pulled down another backdrop and grabbed a cup of tea out from hammerspace. “Justh name a place!”

Elmer, holding a cup of tea with a string of onions slung round his neck, looked wide-eyed and confused. “...Home?” He said, simply.

Daffy sighed and the backdrops fell around him. “Okay then. I suppose we’ve had enough for one day. Oh, Bugsy, Bugsy ol’ buddy, ol pal!” He slung an arm round the rabbits shoulders. “Might I enquire what you are making for dinner?”

“Eh...ya can ask.” Bugs said nonchalantly.

As Daffy started to try and barter his way into a good dinner, the scene switched to the middle of Tune Town, where a tall, black, slightly shimmering man was talking to the other LT’s.

Bugs’s eyes narrowed and he marched towards them, yelling. “Hey! Who de hell are you? Dis is a private island, ya know!”

“I am Al-G-Rhythm.” The guy said, smoothly. “I am Warner Bros newest mode of technology. The link between all of your worlds. The Serververse. No longer will you have to travel between world like a second-class citizen, you can all live in one place together.”

“An’ dis benefits us...how?” Bugs asked, not believing all this for a second.

“You get to expand your horizons. Actually go into other characters worlds. You can explore, who knows? Maybe even rebrand-”

“Eh...I don’t think so.” Bugs said, confidently. “We’ve done enough ‘rebranding’ over de past few years. We’re all good here.” The other toons nodded along with him. 

“That’sh what YOU think!” Daffy said, dramatically poking Bugs in the chest. “I for one would LOVE to spread my wings!”

“Eh...jus’ talk ta Warner Bros, Daf. I’m sure they can get you a role spoofing some of de other properties.” Bugs said, easily.

“Of course.” AL-G-Rhythm purred. “With the offer I’M making you you can go anywhere and be whoever you want to be. All of you.” He added, seeing the other Looney Tunes beginning to look interested. “Anything and anywhere you want to be. I mean, let’s face it, you’ve all done so much for this stup - I mean, Warner Brothers over the years, isn’t it time you cut loose and had some fun?”

Bugs’s eyes narrowed. The Looneys were perfectly capable of having fun without needing to go across the serververse, thank you very much. He looked around, expecting to see his family with similar expression, but instead they were all talking to each other about it and sounding...excited?

“I can take you anywhere you want to go.” Rhythm said, his voice raising a little above the noise. “Hogwarts, Austin Powers, Matrix, you name it, WB have probably done something with it at some time. And if you wanted to go back in time, no problem, we still have the Paramount Pictures stuff on a different planet.”

“Reawwy?” Elmer -who was a big fan of The [original] Addams Family - asked.

Rhythm smiled. “Reawwy - eh, really. All you have to do is step into the serververse...” He stepped to one side and a suddenly a glowing door appeared from nowhere. “...And you can go anywhere you want. Now...who’s with me?”

The other Looneys looked tempted, they really did.  But after a shared glance and one of those ‘telepathic conversations’ they were so good at, Porky shook his head and said, politely but firmly. “T-th-thanks for t-t-the offer, Mr R-r-rhythm, but if it’s all the sa-the sam - makes no difference to you, we’ll stay here.”

The other looneys nodded.

Al-G-Rhythms eyes grew hard and his voice dropped to a baritone level as he said. “Well...don’t say I didn’t try and do it the nice way.”

Before any of the toons could ask what he meant though, Rhythm raised his hands and every toons except Bugs was lifted in the air, all with various shouts of surprise.

Bugs heart pounded as he looked at his family's frightened faces - some of them were clearly in pain - and he yelled. “Let ‘em go! Take me if ya hav’ ta!”

The other Looneys all started yelling at him not to do it, that it was a stupid idea. Rhythm looked at the grey rabbit and seemed to be considering it. Then he shrugged and - with a dramatic swoop of the arms -  made all of Bugs family disappear. 

“NNNNNNOOOOOO!” Bugs yelled and kind of did a little dance where he tried to go to one side, then the other, but realised that unlike his cartoons he had no idea what had just happened. “A’ight Buster.” Bugs growled. “What the fuck have you done with my family?”

“Oh!” Rhythm said, with false innocence and Bugs’s fist itched to punch him. “That was your family? Oh...I had no idea. From the way you treat them I thought it was the ‘Bugs Bunny’ show.”

“Yeah, a’ight, ya made ya point. Now bring ‘em back!”

“And where would the fun be in that?” Rhythm smirked, then became deadly serious. “Now listen to me ‘wabbit’ and listen carefully, course I ain’t sayin’ this again. I have sent your assistants-”

“-Brothers and sisters you mean.” Bugs corrected.

Rhythm looked surprised. “You consider Lola Bunny a sister? I thought you were dating.”

“Eh...” Bugs waved a hand. “That’s in canon Doc. This is ‘off-stage’ so ta speak.”

Rhythm hummed thoughtfully then - remembering he was supposed to giving a monologue - carried on with. “Whatever they are to you is no matter. The point is they are all spread across the servisverse and they’ve all been sent to random places that-” He laughed. “-Hell, even I don’t know! And YOU-” He pointed at Bugs. “-Have 6 months to find them and if you DON’T they will be deleted!” He started laughing hysterically.

“Eh...” Bugs said, left eye beginning to twitch. “Ya know Warner Bros have access to the servers as well and will realise we’re not in our world? They’ll then send us back.”

Rhythm scoffed. “You think I’m an idiot? I’ve thought of that - you wanna know how? Well, FORGET IT!” He suddenly bellowed, getting right in Bugs’s face. “I’m not going to tell you! You’ll have to figure it all out for yourself. but I’ll make it fair for you.” He said, voice taking on a soft, almost fatherly quality. “I promise that I won’t look at your progress until the last day, deal? Then you can’t say I’ve interfered. Deal?”

Bugs yelled his protestations at the top of his lungs, but Rhythm just laughed and disappeared back into the serververse. 

*End flashback*

After the end of that flashback it was safe to say Pepe and Penelope were quite shocked. They were still trying to get there head around the fact that all this had happened in the 6 mere months they’d been away, when they heard a strange sound and saw Bugs crying.

Penelope hushed him and Pepe offered him a handkerchief. Bugs blew into it noisily at exactly the same time the horn blew before handing it back to Pepe who looked at it in disgust and threw it over the side of the ship. 

“So what happened after that?” Penelope asked, fearing she already knew the answer. “Where are they?”

“Oi don’t know, okay!?” Bugs wailed. “I don’t know! Dere in different worlds somewhere, but I don’t know where and I don’t know how it works! Oi don’t know if they’ve just gone to the worlds, but without being able to shift so they stand out like a sore thumb or if they’re replacing someone else within dat world! In which case, where’s de character dere replacin’? Oi don’t know which worlds dere in, oi don’t know if dere safe or happy or bein’ tortured - I DON’T KN-!”

*SLAP*

Bugs blinked and felt the imprint Penelope’s hand had just left on him. “T’anks. Oi needed dat.”

“We weel get them back.” Pepe said, placing a hand reassuringly on Bugs’s shoulder. “Myself and Penelope will help you. We will not rest until out family, it iz complete!”

Bugs smiled shakily and wiped his eyes. “Well, dere’s one issue with dat-” Seeing his brother and sister’s curious look he gave a half-hysterical laugh and asked. “Well, why do you t’ink oi’m still here? Oi can’t get out. I’ve tried goin’ back through to Warner Bros central, oi can’t do it. The portal we use physically won’t let me through. Oi t’ink Rhythm has put some kind of block on me. To stop me leaving so oi can’t find da others. It’s de only thing that makes sense. An’ I’ve tried different versions of me as well from all across the years. King me, jester me, classic me, new me. I even tried Ace Bunny, dat’s how desperate oi was! I can’t leave-”

“-What about Chungus?” Penelope asked. Seeing the weird looks Pepe and Bugs were giving her she explained. “It sounds like Rhythm has put some sort of block on YOU. But...Big Chungus...he isn't technically a version of you, is he? He started out as a meme taken from when you were shape-shifting”

“He’s in ‘World of Mayhem.” Bugs said, doubtfully.

“Which is a game!” Penelope said, excitedly. “Not a tv show! Have you tried it? No? Well, give it a go!”

Feeling excited for the first time in 5 and a half months Bugs took a breath and started to shape himself into the monstrosity that was Big Chungus. When he had finished he smiled, leapt onto the mast and - donning a pirate hat and sword - yelled. “Full steam ahead! Warner Bros Central here we come!”

As the exit - aka the portal - that led to Warner Bros Central loomed over him Bugs felt nervous. ‘Please work, please work, please work-” He chanted under his breath. 

Then with a flash of blinding light, they went through. 

#Space Jam 2 #A New Legacy #Fanfiction #Space Jam 2 Fanfiction #Across The Serververse #Bugs Bunny #Al-G-Rhythm #Space Jam 2 AU #Pepe Le Pew #Penelope Pussycat #Looney Tunes #Looney Tunes Fanfiction #Family #Adventure

[uwu-shinsou]

First,,,, CONGRATS ON 500 BB!! YOU DESERVED IT!! And uhhh if it's not much a bother can I request Shinsou Hitoshi with 6 and 13 (if it's alright! If youre not comfortable with doing it you can do whatever youre comfortable with, I care abt your well being more than the fic that Im requesting) and I dont really uh care if its hc or a drabble or smth cuz im inlove with anything and everything that you make! Again congrats! Have a nice day :))

Title: Whatever You Say

Prompt: Accidental Text, Hate-to-Love

Warning(s): Mild language

Pairing: Shinsou Hitoshi X Gender Neutral!Reader

Genre: Drabble, working through feelings

Word Count: 1.3K

A/N: THANK YOU ISSA!! 🥺💖I’m so glad you requested!! Bc I’m trying to keep these shorter like “drabbles” I had a hard time doing like,, full on hate to love so this is more like resentment to friends with implications of hidden feelings?? AHAHA but uhhh yeah, I hope you all enjoy 🥺and in case you missed it, my last year of college has started, so I will be updating less frequently, but I will still be around and writing and vibing!🤗

500 Event Masterlist

✿ .✿ .✿ .✿ .✿

Oh shit.

You flew down the hall, bursting into Kaminari’s bedroom without knocking. The blonde sat up quickly at your intrusion, but relaxed slightly upon seeing it was you.

“What’s up speed racer?” He joked, folding his legs up to make room for you on the bed. You walked up to the side of the bed, dropping your knees on the edge and falling forward face-down onto the covers.

“I messed up, Denki,” You groaned, rolling over onto your back and staring at the ceiling. “I sent a text to Shinsou-”

He let out a little snort. “Now that’s unusual.”

“Yeah,” You agreed. “Because it was a text that was not meant for him.” 

“It couldn’t have been that bad, right?” He asked, now a little nervous. You couldn’t blame him. You and Kaminari had clicked instantly at the beginning of your first year at U.A., and now you’d pretty much consider him your best friend, and you his. But come the end of first year, with the trial and following announcement that Shinsou Hitoshi, general ed student, would be transfering into the hero course- and more specifically- your class, Kaminari Denki had seemed to collect himself yet another best friend. 

And you had made your first rival.

You hadn’t wanted to. But when you had first heard about Shinsou’s quirk, people couldn’t help but compare it to yours. As long as you maintained skin to skin contact, you could command another person to do anything that you wanted. Paired with your athletic background (which started when you were young, at the insistence of your parents that it’d “prepare you for hero training”) you were clearly the superior “mind control” student. You didn’t understand why another one was needed in the hero course. Wasn’t he just fine being in the general course?

But of course he had to join class 2A, become Aizawa’s favorite, and start to steal the attention of your best friend.

But Kaminari was his own person, and he made his own choices about when he hung out with the two of you. It really wasn’t fair to put him in the middle of your mess of feelings. And even though he was Shinsou’s friend, you knew he would keep your secrets.

You turned onto your side to look at him. “Here just- read this.” You shoved your phone at him. He took it in his hand, his face contorting into a grimace as he read your mistake once, twice, three times.

“...Why the hell did you send him this?” You slapped your hands against your face in embarrassment and despair. He mockingly cleared his throat. “‘Can you believe purple hair beat me in today’s exercise? Why does he have to basically have my quirk? If he wasn’t so hot I’d be really pissed.’” Kaminari let out a whistle. “Wow, now there is a lot to unpack here, hun.”

You winced. “Yeah, that text was supposed to go to Mina, but I mean- fucking hell, I don’t know?” You ran your hands over your face. “I guess I somehow just clicked the wrong contact and instead it went to him! And it’s even worse that he hasn’t responded about it yet.” You’d never outright said to Shinsou that you disliked him, but you had to assume he knew, and felt the same way about you.

“I didn’t know you thought he was hot,” Kaminari said, wiggling his eyebrows. You launched a pillow at him that he ducked. 

“C’mon, anyone with a brain can see that he’s attractive,” You muttered. “It’s the same as Todoroki, or maybe Bakugou if you took away some of the attitude.”

He let out a sigh. “Yeah you’re right.” After a moment of silence he pressed your phone back into your hand. “Anyways, I think the best approach would be to sort it out face to face. Texting can make things too muddled sometimes.”

“Since when did you have so much wisdom?” 

He nudged you with a knee. “Hey, there’s a reason you came running to me.”

“I suppose you’re right.” It’ll probably be really awkward and not fun, but you should try to explain yourself in person.

Which is how you found yourself on the outskirts of the woods by the dorm buildings watching Shinsou workout, your presence still unnoticed as his back was turned to you. Kaminari had directed you here, knowing that his friend often trained here on his own. 

Suddenly he relaxed his stance, speaking without turning around. “What, you got more to say to me than what was in that text?”

You gritted your teeth at his words. What is up with his attitude!? “Yeah, well maybe I do.” You crossed your arms, shifting most of your weight onto one foot.

Shinsou glanced over his shoulder. “Sucks for you, I’m busy.” He reached down to the ground and slung his towel over his shoulder. “Since my quirk is clearly inferior to yours, I need to keep training.” You winced slightly at his words.

“Hey, I never said it like that-”

“Yeah, well you didn’t have to.” He sighed before turning to face you fully. “Look, I get it, you feel like I’m trying to take your spot here at U.A. Well just- don’t worry about it, okay? I’ll stay out of your way.”

As he began walking away, you found yourself stepping after him. “Shinsou, it’s not fair to phrase it that way.”

He stopped and turned to face you once more. “What do you know about ‘not fair’?” Shinsou took a step closer to you. “‘Not fair’ is getting into the general class, only to see someone just like me being praised for their power in the hero course. ‘Not fair’ is working as hard as I can to make my dreams come true, only to find out that I still have to compete against you. ‘Not fair’ is wanting to so desperately hate you for it all, but I can’t. Not when I see your strength, your power, your drive and ambition, and I can’t help but admire it. Admire you.” He let out a soft snort of mock amusement to himself. “I do kind of hate you for that, though.”

You stood there in silence. What do I even say to that? Shinsou watched you warily, waiting for a reaction.

“I don’t hate you, not really,” You said slowly. As good a place to start as any. “Resented you, yes, but hate is a strong word.” As you continued talking, your mouth let more and more words spill out, words you didn’t even know you had wanted to say. “And yeah, I was worried that you’d ‘take my spot’ or whatever, but I think that was the competitive nature of this school getting to me. They support friendly competition between students, but maybe I took that too much to heart.” You toed at the ground, slowly looking up to meet his eyes. “I was worried about you joining our class because I think you have amazing control over your quirk and you’re really talented. You really do have the potential to be an incredible hero. And I think… I’d like it better if we were friends, instead of pitting ourselves against each other.”

As you waited for Shinsou’s response, you started to get antsy. Why do I care so much about what he’s going to say?

Finally he answered. “Alright. Friends is a good place to start.” He held his hand out to you, as if to shake on it. Hesitatingly you reached out, your fingers firmly grasping his. He tightened his grip. “Should we also acknowledge that you said I was hot in your text?”

His words brought on a wave of nerves, and you yanked your hand back as if it were on fire. “That- That was a typo!” He began walking back towards the dorms with you hurrying to catch up to him.

As you matched his stride, he huffed out a laugh and sent you a knowing smile. “Sure, whatever you say.”

#uwu shinsou 500 event #shinsou #shinsou hitoshi #shinsou imagine #hitoshi shinso x reader #bnha shinso x reader #shinsou hitoshi imagine #shinsou headcanons #shinsou hitoshi x reader #shinsou x y/n #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha imagine #bnha shinsou #boku no hero academia #boku no hero #boku no hero x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia imagine #my hero academia #my hero academia x reader #my hero academia imagine #my hero academia headcanons